#cause it's coming from alaska

[jacensolodjo]

i've earned more money faster and legit doing surveys than these 'play games on your phone' things i keep getting ads for lol

[starry-eyer]

‘the black bastard of the wall’ moniker is the exact opposite of the ‘white wolf’ moniker and this perfectly highlights the irreconcilable differences between book Jon and show Jon

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Please

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary Dean has been acting out, and you decide it’s time to give him what he really needs: to let go. CWs Dean gets the full sub experience - crawling, crying, begging. It's a hoot. Femdom. Some religious imagery. 18+. 2.5k words.

Dean Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

Dean’s really fucked up this time, although you’re starting to suspect he’s doing it on purpose.

The last time he did it, chatted with a busty brunette in the bar where you could clearly see it, and you were done roughly fucking back at the motel, you let your head drop back, panting.

“You pull this shit again,” you said between deep breaths, “you’re seriously going to pay for it.”

And Dean, smug asshole that he is, had thrown you a look that told you that if it meant more of what you had just done, he’d let you catch him flirting with every woman between here and Alaska.

You don’t actually get jealous. You know Dean won’t actually do anything beyond chatting them up. And the reason he started doing that in the first place is to try to get a rise out of you, try to get you to the point where you are pinning his wrists over his head, fucking yourself down on him with no regard to his pleasure, only yours.

Cause. Effect. It’s simple.

But lately he’s been getting a little too cocky, a little too sure of himself. He still gets off, and he really likes seeing you the way you get, domineering and a little mean. He loves that someone cares enough about him to abandon their own control of themselves. It feeds something in him he didn’t know needed feeding, is your theory. But maybe it’s time to change up the game a little.

The two of you haven’t discussed this before, and a part of you thinks that maybe you should. But talking to Dean about sex is like talking to a dog about barking. He really doesn’t have that much to say about it beyond the doing of it. Plus, you cannot wait to see the look on his face when you do it, can’t wait to see his pretty face all confused. It makes you tingle just to think about it.

So it’s the usual, some sweet girl Dean chatted up, and he keeps throwing you looks over his shoulder, because of course he’s not subtle about. Thirty minutes later, you’re pulling up to the motel in the Impala. Your hair is already a mess from how roughly you and Dean have been kissing, but it’s nothing compared to what happens once you’re inside.

You haven’t even managed to take all your clothes off, only your jeans, your panties still dangling from one ankle, but Dean is already licking and fingering you so vigorously that you couldn’t care less.

“Fuck, yes, keep going,” you whine while you press the back of his head down roughly, his face against you, watch him with his eyes closed and brow slightly furrowed, like he’s in fucking heaven.

You come, your cry is loud and you’re distantly aware of someone banging on the wall that separates you from the next room, but you’re too busy having the top of your head blown off. Dean gets off you, basically rips his own clothes off in an effort to get to what will happen next. Boy, is he in for a surprise.

You’re still a little jelly-boned, but once Dean has taken off his clothes, he helps pull off your top, immediately leaning down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. You moan, roughly grab him by the hair and he sucks harder in response. Then he moves off you and turns, lays on his back, all the while stroking himself. He doesn’t need to, he’s hard as steel, the head of his cock wearing a crown of pre-come. You get on top of him immediately, high on your knees so his cock is below your pussy.

“You like making me angry?” you say as you slowly sink down. Dean grunts and you almost forget what your plan is, because goddamn he feels good. You stop moving when he’s fully seated in you.

“I asked you a question,” you say. Dean has his head pressed into the pillow, eyes closed, and he blinks them open now. He looks confused and you could squeal at the sight of that.

“Do you like pissing me off?” you ask again, voice calm. Dean seems to gather himself, because he nods. As a reward, you roll your hips, making Dean’s breath hiccup. His hands shoot to your hips.

“Tell me, Dean,” you say, not moving again. “Tell me and I’ll move.”

Dean needs to get his breathing under control, since it’s all over the place. Once he does, he looks up at you.

“I like that you take what you want when you’re mad,” he says, and you clench a little, making him flinch, eyelids flutter.

“Love the way you just take from me,” he adds, and he actually blushes, blushes so prettily. You grin and begin rolling your hips in earnest now.

“You just have to ask, Dean,” you say, hoping he can hear you over his beautiful moans. “You don’t have to act out, just ask me to pretty please be a little mean to you.”

The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile at that, but he’s already got his eyes closed again, completely absorbed by your movement. So now, it’s really a race against time, because you’re not sure you’ll be able to do what you want to do if you don’t come again first.

Though there’s no need to worry. Years of sex with Dean, getting to know how your bodies work together, plus how absolutely crazy it drives you to see him like this, get you there quickly.

One hand is in your hair, one on your clit, and your hips are snapping back and forth, and you can feel it build in you quickly. There’s a light sheen of sweat on Dean’s forehead and he looks like he’s in pain, so beautiful, so perfect. You come, riding him even harder to prolong your release, and just as you recover, Dean lifts his head from the pillow a little.

“Gonna, fucking, gonna come inside you,” he groans and you can feel his hips buck up for the extra stimulation. Your hands land on his chest and he probably thinks you’re gonna ride him right into it, but instead you press yourself up and don’t come back down.

It takes about two seconds for Dean to understand what you’re doing. He blinks his eyes open as he slips out of you. You climb off the bed, grab his shirt laying close by and use it, just as an extra pinch of degradation, to dab the sweat off your body. Then you turn back to Dean, and it takes you everything not to burst out laughing at the view.

He’s still in the position he was in, hands up, as if he’s holding on to a ghost version of you. Cock flushed and angry and it makes your mouth water, but you know better. You drop the shirt on the floor just as Dean sits up, not touching his erection. Good.

There was a small chance that he might just get himself off, but while Dean can be an absolute brat, it all melts away as soon as the sex begins. Then he’s like a little kitten.

You sit in the armchair opposite the bed, the one you turned around before you left for the bar, just in case tonight was the night, the anticipation making you giddy. You sling one leg over the side of it, revealing your pussy to Dean.

“Babe?” he says, sitting up, tone questioning and, if you listen closely, a little nervous.

“I think I’ve been letting you get away with this shit for a little too long,” you say, and then raise your hand, collect a little bit of spit with your fingertips. The hand goes to your clit, barely touching it, just enough for Dean’s eyes to drop there and stare at it, like a man in the desert looking at a glass of water. He actually licks his lips. You could die from love for this man.

“I think you need to learn, Dean,” you continue, flexing your shoulders a little because you are feeling too damn good. “Need to learn that bad behavior doesn’t get you rewarded.”

Dean still seems shellshocked, swallows heavily. Good chance his brain is still fighting through the fog of arousal.

“So why don’t you come over here,” you say, voice low, “and show me how sorry you are?”

You see the moment it clicks in Dean’s brain, the moment he understands what you want him to do. And the second after that, you see that he likes it. He doesn’t look happy exactly, but instead he looks… needy. Hungry. Desperate. But also blissful. His shoulders go down, his face relaxes.

He hesitates for another second and then he moves, and you want to pray to the gods above when you see that he gets on his fucking knees, and then Dean Winchester, feared and famed hunter, the man monsters have nightmares about, is crawling towards you.

You could come again then and there, because it is the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. His back and arm muscles ripple with the movement, you can just see his perky ass over his back, his cock hangs heavy and leaking under him and his face is so beautiful, so full of reverence, like he's about to sacrifice himself at the altar of you.

He reaches you and you pull your hand back, because damn it, he knows exactly what to do, falls into the role like he was born for it. He rubs his face against your pussy and you gasp. It’s uncoordinated, he’s not eating you out, it’s something else. Your slick is smeared over his face before his tongue finds your clit, presses against it, sucks on it but only shortly, because he is working himself into a frenzy.

You wouldn’t mind coming again, but the truth is, this is about Dean. It’s about giving him what you believe, and see now confirmed, he always wanted. To be told what to do. To make up for what he’s done. To be taken care of. To completely let go, which you’re pretty sure he’s never been able to do for a second of his life. To beg for what he wants and actually get it.

His hands go to your thighs as he holds you open, almost as if he’s worried you’ll close your legs, as if they’re the gates to heaven and he’s terrified of not getting in. He tongues and nibbles at you and you just watch him.

“Please,” he finally says, and you feel the breath of his words on your sensitive skin. “Please, please, let me come, I’ll be so good.”

Jesus Christ, this is better than you ever imagined it could be. It’s actually making you emotional. Your hand goes out, and you pet Dean’s cheek and he moans, presses his face against your palm, brow deeply knotted, eyes falling closed.

“Please,” he says again.

“You’ve been very bad, Dean,” you say and he nods vigorously, looks up at you.

“I know,” he says, glistening eyes pleading. “But I can be so good, I promise. Just let me come. Just let me come inside you.” You look at him, pretend you’re thinking.

“I always thought you were a bad boy,” you say, thumb gently stroking Dean’s cheek. “But you’re really a good boy, aren’t you?”

For a second it looks like Dean comes right then, without any touching, because the shudder that goes through him is that intense.

“Yes,” he says, and it’s more of a breath, voice raspy and deep as if he’s been screaming, his eyes falling shut again. “Yes, I’m good.” You nod, continue stroking his cheek.

“Come up here, Dean,” you say. He does it immediately, pushes himself up. Daddy’s little soldier. So good at following orders.

You pull on his arms to make him lean towards you, one of his knees going on the seat of the armchair for balance. But instead of guiding him into you, you guide him so that his cock is lying on you, across your mound, and you gently stroke it. Dean gasps.

“You want me to make you come, Dean?” you ask, studying his face. He’s torn up, torn between the promise of release and self-control.

“Inside, please,” he huffs, restraining himself from bucking into your touch. His chest is rising and falling, his shoulders are tensed. “Please, please, let me come inside you.” You raise your eyebrows as if you’re confused by his request.

“But you can come on me, Dean,” you say. “Isn’t that nice?” Dean nods then shakes his head. God, he is really losing it.

“Inside’s better,” he says, then swallows, like he’s correcting himself. One of his hands lands on your waist, like he’s begging for entry. “Nothing feels better than being inside you.”

You purse your lips, then press a hand against his abdomen, push him back a little. Dean complies. His cock drops off you, head now hanging close to your entrance. You reach down, line him up, and then you wrap your legs around him, and pull him in.

Dean looks like he’s seeing God for a second. He fills you up so perfectly and a little moan escapes you. When he’s all the way inside you, you cup his face, run your thumb along his lips.

“That’s where you belong, isn’t it?” you ask and Dean just barely nods.

“Yes,” he breathes. You clench down on him, against him and he moans, so you do it again, harder.

“Fuck, please,” he grunts. You wonder if you can make him come just from this. Something to try next time, maybe. Right now, you need Dean as much as he needs you. You loosen the grip of your legs around him.

“Fuck me, Dean,” you say, voice quiet. “Come inside me, you deserve it.”

Dean’s hands go to your sides for a better grip, and you see that they are actually shaking. He pulls out, then pushes in again, clearly trying to control himself.

“Faster, baby,” you say, biting your lip. “Fuck me good.”

And Dean does. He’s completely desperate at this point, and he pulls out quickly and pushes in again even quicker, until he’s fucking himself into you fast and shallow. A drop of sweat runs down his temple and you want to lick it away, but can’t reach.

You don’t come again, which is fine, but Dean does, quickly and violently. He leans his head forward and it lands on your chest.

“Please,” he groans as he comes, his entire body shuddering, his back tensing. You wrap your arms around him, stroke his back.

“Ssh,” you coo, and something like a sob leaves him.

“You did so good,” you rasp into his ear and he presses his face into your neck as he’s coming down. You’re not sure if the wetness you feel on your neck is sweat or tears, but it doesn’t matter. You just hold him, for a long time, stroke his shoulders and back, tell him how good he’s been.

Dean never pulls the stunt with flirting in a bar again. He doesn’t need to. He knows how to ask now. 

[spidermansballs]

I HAVE ANOTHER HOT TAKE. UNPOPULAR OPINION!!!

hazel is not a cinnamon roll. HAZEL IS NOT A CINNAMON ROLL. this is a black teenage girl, who grew up in the 30s and into ww2, segregation was still happening, and women were still not valued more than a wife. she was also raised by a single mother with psychological problems who was very irresponsible. without all her godly happenings, her mortal home life was fucked up and she saw so much and was treated horribly. then she had to move away from her only friend to ALASKA and like a month later, she died, TAKING DOWN GAEA, SHE IS THE ONLY OF THE SEVEN (correct me if im wrong) TO TAKE DOWN GAEA SINGLE HANDEDLY. shes fucking powerful. then she spent over 60 years in the underworld, the only person who had any memories wutsoever, she couldn't interact with her mom and was completely alone, then some random as white boy comes and takes her out of the underworld and resurrects her. she has maybe a month of somewhat "peace" and then is pulled into a prophecy that causes a WAR and she is a child soldier, and one of the LEADERS in that war. and even if you ignore that and you look how "oh shes always bubbly and giggly and sweet" liek yeah smtms but even then she is cursing every 5 words in her sentence, so much that percy cant say what it is. i have a best friend who is the embodiment of a cinnamon roll, she has nvr cursed in her life.

HAZEL LEVESQUE IS NOT A FUCKING CINNAMON ROLL!!

[writing-mlm]

Hii!! This is my first time request so if you feel uncomfortable you can ignore this!

So Plus size male reader who was traumatized by getting bully in the past and body dysphoria. So he always wears baggy clothes and long sleeves shirt that cover his bruises and his body. Simon Riley is curious why reader always wear that types of clothes until he knew the reasons. After you confronted to him, he always cherish and praise you every where especially on the bed and tell you to wear more revealed clothes just for him!

To be loved

Summary: Simon’s trying his best to show he cares and you’re trying to open up Pairing: Simon Riley x Male Reader Word Count: 2.3k Tags/warnings: talks of prior bullying, sexual themes, talks of body issues, I still struggle to write accents, reader is offhandedly mentioned to be a firefighter, soft Si, plus size reader, mild hurt/comfort A/n: gasp is sharky projecting neverrrr anyway the first draft of this is gonna be part 2 that won’t come out for a while

“Nah, mate, you’ll love him!” Gaz had promised after Simon had finally agreed to a blind date. Soap was going to set it up but Simon didn’t exactly trust his taste in partners. And, believe it or not, Gaz was right. One blind date turned into five real dates and now a six-month mark in dating. 

He stares at you from across your apartment, cleaning up after a sip n paint kit your sister had gotten you as a birthday gift. He’s cleaning the dishes— well, he was. Now he’s leaning against the sink and watching you. 

Dressed in a long, extremely baggy sweater and pants, he tilts his head and tries to see your face. There’s some sweat building on your forehead and he’ll have to admit the apartment is pretty warm and he’s in a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Lovvie,” He calls and you hum, looking up from where you’re wiping up some drying paint. “It’s burning in here, you sure you don’t want to get changed?” 

“Mm-mm, I’m fine, baby,” You reply, tossing the cleaning wipe into the trash bag. He hums and pushes off from the counter, crossing the room over to you. You laugh as he hooks an arm around you and pulls you over to the couch. 

“Come ‘n’ sit, watch a movie,” He nearly begs, pulling you onto his lap. You pause, shifting so you’re not pressing all of your weight on him before sliding down so only your legs are. 

“What movie?” Plucking at the sweater so it stops hugging your chest and stomach, you look over at him. “No more RomComs please!” You beg while reaching for a throw pillow to place over your lap. 

“You pick,” He shrugs while his hands make work at going under your sweats by the ankle cuff and massaging your calves. You’d been called to a search and rescue earlier and came back with a bruised arm and leg— not that he saw. He found out because you were complaining about it over the phone. Apparently it was huge and hurt like a bitch. 

He can tell because when he presses, you wince and nearly jerk away from him before apologizing. 

“Why don’ you change so I can help?” 

“I’m fine, Si, it’ll heal in a couple of days. Just a bruise,” 

He sighs, not loud or frustrated. Just, he wants to take care of you and it’s hard when you don’t let him. When you’re in those clothes that’re going to cause a heat stroke, in pain from bruises he can’t even see the extent of, and you won’t even sit close enough that he can cuddle up with you. 

“Love,” He slowly says and you look over from the movie selection. “It’s blazing in this flat and yer dressed like it’s the middle of winter in Alaska.” 

“I’m fine—“

“You’re sweating and it’s dripping onto the couch. Don’ lie to me. What’s so wrong about changing into a bloody shirt and shorts?” You sigh and rub your face, collecting the sweat before wiping it on your pants. 

“I just…” You shrug, looking away to think for a second. “If I do change, can we turn the lights off?” He wants to say no, he wants to be able to see you. If he wanted to be around you with the lights off, he would’ve offered to turn in for the night. He wants to tell you that whatever you’re worried about cannot possibly be worse than what he sees in the field. But he doesn’t think that’ll help much, at least not right now. 

“Can I ask why?” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shrug, making a point to avoid looking at him. 

“It’s just… guys always made fun of my body.” You explain, your voice smaller than it was earlier. The smallest tone that he’s ever heard you speak in before, to be honest. “I don’t like talking about it but I just, it’s better for me if you don’t see me.”

“I want to see you, though.” He stresses, holding your face in his hands. You shrink under his gaze but he coaxes you out with ease. “And if I ever think about making fun of yer body, take my gun and shoot me in the head, alright?” You laugh and nod. He smiles, a small barely there smile that hardly moves his lip scar and removes the pillow from your lap. 

“Get changed into something better, please, love. Yer killin’ me in that outfit,” Reluctantly, you agree and leave the room to change. He waits, and then continues to wait. Nearly ten minutes have passed before he gets up and ventures down the hallway to your room. 

He knocks, once, twice, and goes for the third when you speak up. 

“I just—“ You shout before stopping yourself, hands shaking as you look at yourself in the mirror and then the door. “I need a minute, Si, please.” You don’t even know why you keep that mirror, you hate it. It must be one of those funky mirrors because you swear you don’t hate yourself that much that you don’t like staring at your body. 

And now with the bruises, the way it wraps around your extra skin, how your stretch marks seem more visible than they have the potential to have an audience other than yourself and your primary doctor. Hurriedly wiping your face, you look at your shirt. You only really have work shirts, button downs, and sweaters. Your parents didn’t let you buy normal t-shirts growing up, and you guess that stuck with you. 

This was a gift, a silly firefighter pun t-shirt the whole squad got as a Christmas gift from the chief's wife some years back. It even has your last name on the back. You’ve never worn it, though. Aside from the one time everyone did a group picture when they got it. 

“Love, I—“ Simon pauses, unsure if he’s about to make the situation worse. “Can I come in?”

“No!” You quickly respond and toss the t-shirt on just in case he didn’t hear you. “I’m done. I’m coming out,” 

“Okay,” He takes a step back from the door, waiting for you to open it. He waits a while, longer than it would take to walk around the whole apartment, let alone your bedroom. But the door knob twists, slowly. Painfully slow before the door cracks open.

“Please don’t laugh,” You urge, looking at him through the crack. 

“Never.” He promises and you nod, looking away before opening the door. The first thing he sees is the massive bruise blooming across your left leg and then your left arm. “You should be resting! Go and sit, I’ll get ice for ya,”

“No, it’s fine. I bruise easily, iron deficiency. It’s not that bad,” 

“Go and sit.” He points to the living room and you decide not to argue because he didn’t make fun of you. And you owe him that much, right? 

“Why did you think I was going to laugh?” He asks, coming back with two ice packs. He lays one carefully on your leg and you hiss, tensing at the sudden coldness. 

“Most guys do,” 

“Am I most guys?”

“No,” You smile.

“Then why?” He pushes and you realize that he’s serious— about this and about you. You might as well spill your guts now rather than later when you’re in too deep to take it away. 

“There was this guy in my high school. Mitch, he… was a fucking asshole. Star player for our sports team— I think it was basketball— he got everyone to call me Tubs or Snorlax. Someone decided to be original and write LardAss on my locker for a week straight. The school and guys were popular enough that it stayed with me through college. Every guy I’ve dated has known one of them somehow, they always slipped up and called me that.”

“I doubt a couple of names made you like this— no offense,” He backtracks, eyes wide as if he’d made a grave mistake but you shrug. 

It’s true. You hardly cared about the names, sure it stung the first couple of times, but then they just got boring. Just sounds. 

“They’d try and shove me in lockers, tied me to the flagpole using rope, tripped me during the mile run, and would loosen the screws on my seats before class. We went on a trip to a farm once…” You trail and cover your face with your hands. “They fucking locked me in the cattle chute. They took pictures and they posted it. I… I was—“

“I get it,” He nods. “You don’t gotta continue,” 

“Thank you,” 

“Don’t thank me, lovvie. Now, c’mere,” He pats his legs and you shake your head. “No, ‘m serious. Take a seat, I promise you’re nothing compared to what I have the recruits lift.” Reluctantly, you agree and let him pull you up. It hurts a little, with the bruise and all, but he puts you so your back is to his chest and rests his head on your shoulder. 

“See, light as a feather,” He says, feeling that you’re still tense so he starts messaging your sides, easing you until you’re fully relaxed against him. “Wanna watch Scarface?”

“You hate that movie,”

“I can make an exception,” 

—

When Simon’s deployed, you don’t hear much from him. There are the letters, all of which you’ve saved and cherished greatly, texts, and sometimes you’ll get a package. This is one of those times. 

It’s a plain box, crudely wrapped in tape and sent from Brisbane. So he probably sent that out ages ago since he’s currently stationed in Ireland for some intel. 

“Oh, something from Lieutenant Simon?” Your sister grins as you grab a pocket knife to cut the box open. He’d gotten you that as a gift after you spent longer than two seconds staring at it in the mall.

“Yes,” You laugh, sitting with your legs tucked under yourself. The basketball shorts ride up a little and you wince as the tape scrapes against your skin, quickly pulling them down. “From Australia,”

“Careful, it might be a giant spider!” She giggles as she makes crawling motions up your arm. “Turn you into Spiderman!” Laughing, you open the box and grab the letter on the top. Of course she leans over your shoulder to read it too. 

“Aw, he’s so sappy!” She cries. “Wait… ew, I didn’t want to read that part.” She leans back and you cackle, hiding the letter. “I can't wait to be suffocated by your legs for a change! Oh my god, you two are gross!” She gags and moves away from you, wiping her eyes as if that would erase the words from her memory. 

“Don’t read a love letter, then!” You huff, carefully folding it and setting it to the side. The inside of the package has some clothes, stuff you know he sent because he wants to see you wearing it, and others because he figures you’d like it. Then there’s some snacks, along with some lollipops with a note that your sister shouts at again. 

“You two are freaks!” She cries. “God, wait until I tell James!” James, your older brother, as if he was the high authority. 

“Fuck is James gonna do?” You huff and she just shouts, unsure of what to say. As you roll your eyes, you see a call is coming in from Simon. “B-R-B!”

“I don’t wanna hear phone sex!” She calls as you walk away. 

“Then leave!” You shout, closing the bedroom door behind you. Picking up, you flop down onto your bed as Simon’s face takes over your screen. You’re glad you convinced him to upgrade his phone from the stone ages.

“Hello, love,” He greets, removing his mask. 

“Hey, Si, how’ve you been? And I got the package, the clothes are really nice?” 

“They came?” His eyes widened a fraction as you nodded. “You should try them on. Right now, on the phone,” Shaking your head, he nearly groans and sits on the corner of his cot.

“My sister is here, she’s already traumatized by the letter and the lollipops.” He laughs at that but apologizes. “But I’ll definitely try them on later. If you’re free around ten, call.” 

“I should be,” He nods and licks his lips. It’s more out of habit than anything. He looks up and then rolls his eyes. “Ah— Gaz says ‘ello. Bloody bloke won’t leave me alone,”

“Ah, hey Kyle! Tell him to come over when you guys are done and come back home. We haven’t seen each other in ages now,”

“You’ll be busy after I come back,” He promises, the innuendo doesn’t go over your head and you bark a laugh. “Gaz can wait until the week after,”

“I really hope he didn’t hear that,” Unfortunately, Gaz pokes his head into frame and plugs his ears. 

“I hear too much about you, mate. Please come ‘n’ get your boyfriend. He talks about when he sleeps!” Simon promptly shoves him away and looks down at you before nodding. 

—

Simon’s been back from deployment for two days now, two days where the front door stays locked and your phone was left turned off. Unfortunately, you had to go back to work so you were eating breakfast while he was coming back in from his workout. You’re in your uniform, a short sleeve navy blue shirt with the station logo and matching pants with leather shoes. 

Sitting at the dining table, you cross your arms as you watch the news. They’re reporting on a fire you’d been called to the night before, it had wiped out an entire building. But thankfully no one had died, a couple of hospitalizations but nothing beyond that. 

“Sit on my face,” Simon says as he walks past you. Fast enough that you don’t register it for a second before you laugh and look back at him. But he pretends to not notice as he grabs his mug from the cabinet. 

“Wanna repeat that, baby?” 

“Hmm?” He looks over at you. “Oh, I said your arms look good in that shirt. You should wear it more often,”

“You just like my arms flexed,” He shrugs and walks over, leaning down to kiss you on the lips. 

“I just like you,”

[herpsandbirds]

May I request animals that were endangered but are now recovering please?

Was endangered, but has now recovered...

The first creature to come to mind is the American Alligator, which was in real trouble at one time, being close to extinction in the 1960s (due to overhunting and habitat destruction). Protection helped them recover by the 1980s.

American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis), family Alligatoridae, Georgia, USA

photograph via: UGA Coastal Ecology Lab

Lake Erie Watersnake (Nerodia sipedon insularum), family Colubridae, found in islands of western Lake Eerie and in one county along the lake in OH, USA.

A subspecies of the Northern Water Snake.

Declared endangered in 1999, from habitat destruction, this snake had recovered by 2011, when it was removed from the endangered species list.

photograph by Jukka Palm

Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), family Accipitridae, order Accipitriformes, Kachemak Bay, Alaska

Affected by variety of causes, overuse of DDT (a pesticide) hit them hard. The birds bioaccumulated the chemical through prey (mostly fish), causing the birds to produce thin egg shells, which would break easily when the parent sat on them.

Placed on the endangered species list in the 1970s, the birds had recovered by the 1990s, due to a ban on use of DDT in the U.S.

photograph by Andy Morffew

[sturgeonposting]

Hey there! In the Brooks Falls Alaska bear watching community we have a gif a bear coming across a large, seemingly dead non-salmon fish and looking creeped out by it. We nicknamed it "baby shark" but I was wondering if it might be a sturgeon

From the shape of the head and tail i would say its not a sturgeon, this also isnt really the kind of water sturgeon are known to inhabit. I should say that its hard to tell anything for sure just cause of the video quality and length, so take my thoughts with a grain or two of salt

@superiorsturgeon @fishyfishyfishtimes thoughts?

[pumpkinbxtch]

hi! I love your Apollo fics sm can I please request a fic we’re the reader is Percy’s older sister and she finds out there’s like a prophecy of her marrying Apollo and then like they eventually meet and fall and love and then what there marriage is like

𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰

— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader

— part i | part ii | part iii | part iv |

☆ radiostar is playin': hot rod by dayglow...!

summary: There is a prophecy waiting for you to listen to it and although it may not be something you expect or consider possible. You know what they say about prophecies…they can't fail to come true.

warnings: none BUT long read, literally. got out of hand and i couldn't stop writing. that's bad? oh, fuck me, i'm sorry. a/n: i appreciate your request, thank you (although I think I changed it a little, sorry). HEAR ME OUT I feel like I owe a lot of love to those who love Apollo, so that's why I didn't entertain the idea of ​​making this long. Hope you like I know it's long, but I promise I did my best to make it bearable and fun, I swear. 😭

“The sea and the sun are not far away as they look…”

They told you to stay away from the attic of The Big House, but they never told you why.

“Only he can go up”, they said, and it seemed stupid to you because he was your younger brother; you were supposed to protect him.

“It's very dangerous”, they told you while Annabeth went up, even though you were a couple of years older than her.

“Only if you lead some quest, but…” but no, because as the years went by, they made sure to remind you of your place. They told you that you were powerful, smart, and capable, because, yes, you were Poseidon's firstborn, but not the chosen one. That was Percy, your brother. Did it hurt? Yes, as an older sister, you tend to aspire to greatness and be an example, but you didn't die; you got over it.

“What does it matter? Less work for me” you said as you watched your brother's back on all the missions. Anyway, you ended up stuck in his destiny.

“His destiny. But then, what's mine?” you wondered. Then, when you took a step near Rachel Dare's cave, they stopped you too.

“It's–”

“Dangerous.” You completed the familiar phrase with a look of disgust, avoiding Chiron's eyes. He just looked at you with pity, thinking to himself that if you went in there, you could cause more trouble for your father or Olympus… Or everyone; it would be a war among all the Olympians, something they didn't need with Titan Kronos already on their heels.

Dionysus gave you his typical mocking smile, the same one that made you want to grab the can of Diet Coke and throw it right at his disgusting Christmas-reindeer-red nose.

“It would be so interesting, but we don't need it,” he said as he dragged you away from Rachel with Chiron.

You weren't stupid, you knew there was some good reason. But damn, those fossils were sneaky and never let you get to your redheaded companion, who also avoided you like the plague. Between those two things, you never managed to achieve it. Even less so after you ended up fighting on the Argo II with your new friends, straight from real Greece.

Oh, man, if you had thought Kronos was a damn old grump, Gaea was an old ball-buster. You didn't even have time to think about your future when you didn't know if you had one.

After the second war is when you started to throw in the towel about the future. You realized that the last thing you wanted to know at that moment was whether you would have to fight against twelve more Titans, return to Tartarus, or travel to Alaska again.

New Rome became your new home, and you only waited for Percy to catch up with you along with everyone else. That is, until you returned home to pack new things and didn't find your brother studying just as he should be.

— Mom? — You asked when she came back from shopping.

She gave you that look, and you cursed.

— Relax, he'll be back in a while; he just went to drop off Apollo or well, now he's Lester because apparently he's no longer a god but Zeus…

— Wow. Wait, what?

As a hero of Olympus, touching, seeing, or talking to the gods was never impossible for you; in fact, it was much more usual for your taste, and although you had been through too much already, that was new. So, you found yourself immediately traveling to Long Island Sound on the back of a Pegasus, looking for your brother. You wouldn't let Apollo, Lester, or whatever he called himself now take your brother away to distract him with his godly stuff that surely wouldn't lead to anything good.

— Where's Percy?! — You shouted in the dining hall, making the campers flinch.

Chiron got up from his seat, and from there, he smiled at you, but it only put you in a worse mood.

— Dear, it's been a long journey. Please, sit and eat with us.

You lowered your head without taking your eyes off Chiron and tightened the dagger on your belt. There was no reason for it, you knew, but you couldn't help feeling that fury after knowing everything you had been through. Percy deserved a break.

— Where's my brother? — The pause between words made the campers squirm in their uncomfortable seats. They had heard about you, about everyone. to be exact, in the third lesson of history in their camp classes.

— He left Apollo and Meg in a field not far from here — Chiron decided to sit back down and began to spread the tablecloth nervously. — He probably should have already reached home while you were flying here.

You sighed, and as you relaxed your body, everyone seemed to feel relieved.

— He has exams, Chiron — He nodded, and you made your way to the table where he was.

— In fact, there are problems, and apparently, he promised to come back this weekend — Your eyebrows furrowed again, and Dionysus laughed.

— Girl, shouldn't you be in New Rome?

— I went home for a few more things, also taking the opportunity to see my family, and it turns out that my little brother was helping an ex god who can't fend for himself, risking his studies. — You replied without looking at him — And speaking of brothers, you should control yours, Mr. D.

The god of wine snorted, and you formed a mocking smile. — Insolent.

— Miss Jackson — Chiron intervened, and you softened your gaze toward him — You can stay tonight, you know you're welcome and after all, it's too late to travel on Pegasus.

You didn't argue with them; you'd never put your pegasus in danger. So, for the first time in a long time, you returned to your cabin, the same one you shared with Percy and Tyson for so many years, and you had to admit that you missed him. At dawn, you were preparing to travel, and you left at the moment you thought no one was watching you, how wrong you were because a few meters away, Apollo was hidden behind the cabin piles, admiring you from afar.

— She… — He felt his heart tighten, and his gaze unfocused. He cursed his mortal body for how weak it was.

— Pervert! — Meg shouted, alerting the other campers who turned confused, and Apollo blushed.

— Shut up, I'm not a pervert — He smiled exaggeratedly at the others, pretending a smile and letting them know that everything was fine.

— You saw her — Said a voice behind him once Meg was far enough away to hear. The brunette turned and smiled sheepishly.

— For a second — Apollo replied, avoiding his old friend's gaze; embarrassment nibbled at his body, and it became evident once his cheeks glowed.

Chiron had never seen him… like that, so young, embarrassed, and notably imperfect, but despite Apollo's opinions about his recent change, he thought it suited him well, even found it amusing.

— You remember…

— I remember it well, Chiron — Apollo blushed even more — That's why I didn't approach her; dealing with my father's wrath is enough. Now I don't want to annoy Poseidon or I'll probably wake up dead on the lake shore tomorrow.

He played with the tips of his sneakers as buried them in the rocks on the floor; he looked like a scared little boy, but Chiron didn't judge him.

— I think you know what it means when she's around when you're close.

The ex god didn't want to pay attention, but he knew he was right.

— Although I remember who she is… there’s a problem. I don't remember how to avoid her…— Apollo's blue eyes looked directly at Chiron's, and the urgency on his face told him he was telling the truth. — If I don't know now, it's going to be harder; all I can do is hide if she's near.

— We've lasted many years with this circus, and as much as I respect the lord of the seas, I don't think this will last long. And you know what's more stubborn than a son of the sea god?

— The sea god — Apollo raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and Chiron resisted rolling his eyes.

— Fate, Apollo. You know it well, things are written. The prophecy is still there; it exists, and all we've done is delay the inevitable.

The brunette nodded with annoyance and waved his hand dismissively.

Although he wanted to pretend that he didn't care, the anxiety of what was to come ate at him. He knew very well that it wouldn't take long for you to discover what all these years had been hidden from you. If Apollo reflected better on that, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue keeping it to himself, either, 'cause those years had been torture for him. Yeah, he knew that you weren't yet mature enough for your mind to be stained with the weight of a prophecy that, unlike the others, not had to do with some quest or some imminent danger that threatened the entire world; but now you are in college, he couldn't wait for you to know.

The thing was, your father thought that the one who could be in danger was you, his precious daughter since Apollo was selfish, arrogant, and immature to have been around for eons. Poseidon could not fully explain the reason The Fates had woven such a destiny for you. So, until things had and could happen at the right time, in the right way, he warned Apollo to be close to you and he knew so well that be such an idiot idea to make him angry.

Before his thoughts could swallow him, Apollo shake them off and sigh to Chiron.

— Right now, I have a bigger problem. I think we've found something.

— Where?

— Here — Chiron frowned, and Apollo looked towards the camp's forest. — My dear friend, you have the Grove of Dodona here, in your playground.

Apollo didn't know that of all the decisions he had made in his life, avoid you was the best one he could make, because even if you had met that day or before, with the things that were about to happen to him, he wouldn't come back as half the man he was.

“Things at the moment, in time” the fates whispered in some place.

[aurifulgore]

Ok, y’all. I just want it to be understood how important the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) is.

Tampering with NOAA would have more impacts than just the main one I've heard - privatization of weather tracking. Of course it would be catastrophic. That means their weather forecasts, guidance, and warnings would not be available for free. Weather is going to go subscription based if this happens, I bet. This undoubtedly would cause the most immediate impact on our daily lives.

Before long, however, more will come.

NOAA also administers the Coastal Zone Management Act. Under this act are the National Estuarine Research Reserves (NERRs), National Coastal Management Program (CZM), and the Coastal and Estuarine Land Conservation Program (CELCP). 

There are 30 reserves established totalling 1.3 million acres. More are on the way.

No, this isn’t just our oceans! This impacts our freshwater coasts of the Great Lakes.

Grants and funding for institutions, including the University of Michigan. They manage the Science Collaborative, which funds research and exchanges to address coastal management needs of all 30 reserves or projects in collaboration with them.

Blending new technologies with indigenous knowledge with regards to management of wetlands and estuaries, strengthen food and economic stability, water quality, coral reefs, and resilience against climate change (ie. Ola i ka Loʻi Wai, Hawai’i) 

Restore ownership of indigenous ancestral lands (ie. Conservation of Cape Foulweather Headland, Oregon)

Identify for underwater archaeological sites for research and surveys, create a draft tribal climate action plan (ie. Penobscot Nation’s involvement in the Northeast Regional Ocean Council, Maine)

Work with each participating state (regarding the CZM, as it’s voluntary to participate) to address challenges along their coastlines. Maybe reach out to your representatives to see why they’re not involved - looking at you, Alaska!

Population enhancement of coral reefs, manage the Coral Reef Information System, minimize negative impacts of fishing on reefs, mitigate impacts of land-based pollution on coral reefs (Coral Reef Conservation Program)

And much, much more.  I’ll note that the aspects of the projects I highlighted above aren’t all they do. These are just a few I want to highlight here. Links can lead you further and I encourage you to take a few minutes to explore.

Another important note: both our oceans and freshwater lakes impact our biggest trade partners!! If dismantled, it would be yet another way that our foolish president will negatively impact our economy and relationships with our most crucial neighbors of Canada and Mexico. NOAA’s efforts also help support one third of the US's commerce. One third. 

Here is a map which breaks down the 1.3 BILLION in awards from the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law and Inflation Reduction Act. This includes goals towards economic development, flood, etc…

Oh and they also help with oil spills. No one likes those.

And space weather, geomagnetic storms/solar flares ie. impacts to GPS, power grids.

I really stress people to look at what the agency does overall, as well as what they do in your state. It’s more than just weather. You can find that information here. 

Just please understand what we will lose if NOAA is gutted, or even just incapacitated for a long time. We already have little time to lose to slow the impacts of climate change and these are just some of the ways they're leading the charge with that.

It’s vital for us to understand what we will fundamentally lose, and it doesn't end at weather/hurricane predictions.

On a personal note, my dad has put what I can only estimate as hundreds of hours of work into one that was begun before the pandemic. If you can, I’d appreciate it if you’re in that area that you participate when you can, or if anything, donate to the UW Green Bay’s NERR General Fund. He’s also involved with portions of the Lake Superior NERR, so your time, if possible, or a donation if you can, would mean a lot to us.

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part four)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve realises where home is, both in 2017 and in the 1950s. The reader bolts, faced with the memory of the woman Steve cherishes. Bucky starts to find himself drawn to you.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, angst

word count : 2.6k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist

2017, a year after the Avengers' Civil War

It had been nearly four months of the arrangement that you and Steve shared. Hiding away in some remote cabin in Alaska.

Time was running out. You both knew you had to get a move on soon, as you can't stay in one place for too long.

If only you actually stayed put, and didn't cause Steve to worry almost every other week.

He quickly realized that you came and went when you pleased. A habit you must have picked up from your profession, one that Steve was sure would drive him to madness.

He was glaring at the newspaper he picked up from the nearest town when he made a supply run.

Your name was printed in bold lettering, along with your moniker, Huntress. Wanted for conspiring against the State, it read. You had been spotted in some other city, a blurred-out CCTV snapshot of your face included on the page.

If seen, please alert your local authorities. Suspected to be in hiding with Steve Rogers, famously known as Captain America. Reward to be disclosed.

Captain America. Steve never thought there would come a time when that name would leave a bad taste in his mouth, until now. He wondered what excuse you would have this time. Which person was it that you just needed to help? What was this important thing that justified suddenly leaving without telling Steve?

Steve hated your absence, but he knew he was being a hypocrite. He admired how eager you were to help your friends. If he was in your place, he would probably do the same.

He had begun thinking of the next plan. He knew he would always be welcome in Wakanda, but he didn't want to abuse their generosity. It would subject them to intense scrunity in the international political arena and they were already doing more than enough with just taking Bucky in.

No matter the next step, wherever the location, Steve found himself thinking of you. He would always think in terms of we, not I.

Where would we go next? Where would we be safe?

You were free to go wherever you wanted, of course. The others have been roaming different corners of the world, and maybe it was even safer that way, to spread out in those circumstances.

You could choose to go alone to a different hideout, and of course he would have to accept that.

But Steve didn't want you to leave him.

Why? What was he to you? What were you to him? Steve thought of how he never had the best timing. He knew there was something there, and you had to know it too.

He felt it whenever you would smile at him as he handed you your cup of coffee. He felt it in how comfortable it was when you would both read in silence at the opposite ends of the couch in the living room. He felt it in how much you cared, in how you understood his strong tether to Bucky.

And that small cabin was the biggest testament to it all. It was absurd, how much it felt like a home to Steve.

A home, while he was being hunted down and scorned by the country whose values he so proudly stood for and represented. A place of refuge, while everything else was in shambles.

He knew it was all because of you.

If only you would be quick in coming back home.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You didn't mean to leave abruptly again, without giving any notice.

Really, you swore you didn't.

You were also lying to yourself. Because you knew it was all because of what Steve mentioned a few nights prior.

Or rather, who.

It was all going well, you thought. You were getting to know your dangerously attractive housemate quite well. So much so, that you had decided he would be the first one you'd call if you ever got into trouble or needed a shoulder to cry on.

Natasha would understand, of course. She had been in contact, updating on her whereabouts, and also checking in on her apparent ship.

"Ship? Here in the woods?" You had been visibly confused, stupidly glancing out the window as if that very ship would materialise.

"No, you idiot. Ship... relationship. A couple. All the kids are using it these days."

Oh. You debated acting oblivious but you knew that would never fly with someone like Natasha. Nothing really got past her, and you had to admit, your excitement flared up a little bit every time she hinted at something between you and Steve.

Nat was one of the shrewdest people you ever met, and she didn't have the habit of stirring things for no reason.

So you believed her, and you hoped.

In that cabin, in that isolated little bubble, Steve was really all you had and vice versa. Selfishly, you wished you never had to leave. You found yourself imagining that you were an actual couple, maybe even married. That you had chosen to live together in that place, and that circumstances did not just force you together.

That image quickly came crashing down, the curtains closing in the middle of a play. Because that was all it was - make believe.

You and Steve were sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace one late night, your mind going haywire because his knee was pressed against yours. Your heartbeat skipping because he would pat your leg once in a while.

Maybe it was a Steve thing. Maybe it was just a gesture people make when they tell stories to their friends. But friends wouldn't lean in so close, would they?

He eagerly shared about his life in the 30s, when he was an asthmatic hundred-pound determined youngster. When he'd only ever been Steve. He kept a box of personal things that reminded him of his era, and the two of you perused through them. You smiled at the brochure from a museum exhibit that featured him and Bucky. Tried flicking on rusty old lighters. Jokingly saluted him while putting on the pins that were circulated when he was first introduced to the public as Captain America.

Your delusional self thought you noticed his focus drifting to your lips almost every time you replied to him, and that he got that look in his eyes.

But you reached in the box and picked up what looked like a compass. You pried it open, and one glance at his face told you everything.

In it was an image of Peggy Carter, you recognised. You knew all about her and her work for SHIELD. You knew her and Steve had been acquainted back in their day, but you didn't know how much.

He leaned back almost immediately, his touch no longer on you, looking like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Peggy Carter, right?" you offered eventually, balancing the compass in your palm. From what you can recall, she had passed recently. But clearly her ghost was still haunting Steve.

"Y-yeah," he stammered, strangely unable to look you in the eye. "I met her just before I was put to the serum, actually."

Well, that's definitely something. She knew him when he was just Steve, and she saw him. That must have left a mark.

"So... can you tell me about her?" you asked to fill the silence. To quell the barage of intrusive thoughts you had.

Steve noticed the difference in your posture, straightened back and stiff smile. You had been freely laughing moments ago, and he had been too. He wouldn't be able to remember what he said after that, distracted by the sudden coldness in your expression. He must have said something about Peggy being good at her job. About how big of an impact she made on SHIELD.

You didn't want to ask about the obvious thing, and you didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes.

You were also responding on auto-pilot. Like you were simply making small talk. The mood had changed, and you hated yourself for not looking into Steve's file with more detail. There must have been clues there about his past relationship with Peggy.

But if you had known... then what?

You would have fallen for him anyway. But at least, you would be aware that you were falling for someone who wasn't yours to keep.

Because if there ever was something, Peggy's unfading light is one you don't want to compete with.

You let the conversation go on for a few minutes more, to not arouse his suspicion, before making some excuse about being tired and needing sleep.

Hold on, you heard him plead. Maybe you can show him one of the movies you kept telling him about? The one with the Anakin character you liked?

You did your best not to cave in.

Even if all you wanted was to crumble, and kiss him hard enough that any remnants of Peggy Carter still lingering would dissipate.

When you heard that your friend Mason needed some help getting Secretary Ross off his tail, you jumped on the opportunity to leave. Even though Natasha already said she would be on it.

Of course, she saw right through you.

The task was quick and easy and soon enough, the three of you were sitting on lawn chairs in front of her cozy trailer in Norway, when Mason cheekily commented on the little arrangement you had with the Captain America.

"How do you do it?" he joked. "Being under the same roof as him, and not getting some of that? I mean, I know you're all international criminals right now, but even criminals need some loving once in a while."

"Leave her alone," Natasha quipped, pointing at him.

"We're friends," you said defensively, to which Nat raised her eyebrows at you.

"Sure, hon," she said, before taking a swig of her beer. "Shouldn't you be making your way back to him? Steve must be worried."

You shrugged, but you knew she was right. It didn't feel right being away from him like that. Running away like you were a teenager acting out.

It took you only two days to come back, with the help of one of Mason's many smuggled helicopters.

You felt his presence immediately once you stepped foot in the cabin.

Days old newspapers sprawled on the kitchen counter. Fresh coffee on the pot. The surprising but pleasant smell of baked goods coming from inside the oven.

He materialised from your periphery, wiping his hands clean on a towel. Clean-shaven once more, your eyes getting drawn to his pink lips now in clear view.

"Did you - "

"Oh, yeah," he said, gesturing towards the oven. "I tried making you something. Nat called me and said you were on your way back."

That traitor.

But then Steve added, "Welcome back," with that sheepish smile on his face, and you forgot what you were supposed to be pretending to be annoyed at Nat for.

It was comfortable, familiar, like home, when you both silently enjoyed the blueberry muffins he prepared.

You expected him to lecture you, to remind you of the dangers of running off by yourself again. But he took a gentler approach.

It felt good when he made sure you were okay, asking the same question but in three iterations. Are you okay? Did everything go well? Does anything hurt at all?

Did he know why you left so abruptly? Did he suspect anything?

Later that evening, he brought up the fact that perhaps you both should be moving on to another safe place.

You felt his eyes glued onto you, gauging your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you said, "Okay."

Steve had been practicing what to say, how to ask you, while you were away. He would suggest that you were safer together. That the two of you could go see Bucky for a time. That it was probably smarter for you to stick with someone like him - if you ever got caught, he could use himself as leverage, negotiate in order to lighten your sentence.

But all that was no longer needed, because you asked, "Where will we go?", without wavering.

We.

It turned out Steve wasn't going to lose his home, after all.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The 1950s, six months after Steve's arrival

Steve is certain that there must be something wrong with him.

Maybe he's just been in the fray for far too long, going from one fight to the next, that now he is supposed to settle and be at peace - he can't.

It disappoints him. He's frustrated with himself. He's become angry.

It's not fair. How does he still feel like a man out of time for someone who has returned back to where he supposedly came from. Back to where he belongs.

Peggy has noticed his frustration, so she suggested they head down to a local fancy restaurant once a week.

A recurring date of sorts, giving them the chance to spend one-on-one time together. They had both been busy - Peggy with SHIELD, Steve with his newfound job managing a local community centre.

His job was simple enough, definitely less demanding than what he's used to, and he's satisfied that he still gets to be of service. He's also refurbishing their home. Doing everything to keep busy.

Everything to keep you out of his mind.

But Hunter would stroll in when he would fit the new wooden panels for the back porch.

Hunter, his dog. Named so because Steve had the thought that Huntress would appreciate the tribute.

You would, but you aren't there.

He's supposed to be at peace now. He's supposed to finally feel at home.

But he wasn't called the man out of time for no reason, and he's come to accept that maybe they had been onto something.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2024, six months after Steve's departure

Bucky's date is going well. At least he thinks so. Not that he would have much knowledge on how these things go nowadays.

His first date as himself, James Barnes, since the 1940s. Leah's a lovely girl, but it was mostly due to yours and Yori's instigating that he caved in and asked her out.

Well, he didn't really ask. You did. But Leah was kind enough to accept.

The conversation is fine, flowing smoothly, a couple beers shared between the two.

Leah asks how old he is, and he replies dryly, "106."

Bucky isn't sure she got it, but it's better this way. She doesn't need to know who he is, or what he's done. She wouldn't understand.

As they play a round of Battleship, Bucky wonders if you would be good at this game, if you would playfully stare into his eyes much like Leah is doing.

He thinks of how much he likes your eyes, and the way you look at him.

But he is 106 after all, so he's not some fool. He suspects that he might be a stand-in for his revered lost bestfriend. Do you see him, and only him, or is he partially hidden behind Steve's shadow?

Do you keep him around, because he reminds you of him?

Bucky decides he's not ready to know the answer to those questions. Not just yet.

Leah makes another move. He lets her win.

He calls you right after the date. You did say that he should tell you all about it.

"So how was it?" you eagerly ask right away, not even bothering with a hello.

Bucky finds himself smiling at your voice, pausing on the sidewalk on the way back to his apartment, "Have you played Battleship before?"

Read chapter five here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer

Happy TTPD release day! I just knew The Bolter would be one of my favourites!!!

The final scene is in reference to the first episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Lil bit of a spoiler!!!! -- We'll see them all back together in the middle of that series.

There will only two-three more chapters of jumping back and forth in time. I'm also worried I'll confuse myself with the timeline. If the months/years aren't aligned with MCU canon, please ignore it.

Also - if not in the next one, then there will definitely be smut in chapter six. But with who???? Steve or Bucky? I'll let you guys speculate... 👀

[loudclan-clangen]

So, here is the pitch:

AU where Siltsplash finds out they are pregnant around the same moon that Eklutna gives birth to the boys. (Rather than an AU where Owl doesn’t cheat because then we wouldn’t have Song, Dance, or Dash and that won’t do)

It makes the betrayal even worse because it’s even more pointless since they were going to give Owl an heir.

Anyway, meet Spindlekit

She will eventually go blind I imagine, but if Owlstar suggest she retire she tells him that he should retire for being old lmao.

Warrior name is open to suggestion

I love her and I’m so mad that she doesn’t exist now.

The fact that Song doesn’t have a little sister is a CRIME. This is what he was born to do.

Not only am I okay with it, I would love to see it!

You are so right, here's a flashback that was cut for time from Moon 28:

Erminepaw has had a crush on Songpaw since they were in the nursery together, he just never called attention to it. He honestly probably doesn't even register that it is a crush, he's doing that thing that kids do where they're like this is my best friend, of course I want to marry him that's how everyone feels about their best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary here! Just my best friend that I must be holding hands with at all times for best friend reasons!

Yes! This is Fox----, he has been causing problems since the literal day he was born. You've met both of his parents, but I would be a little bit surprised if you guessed them correctly. Parental drama is kinda part of his whole deal. He's one of the first 3rd generation cats born in Loudclan.

I have SO much advice, about the images, the recommended size is 1280 x 1920 pixels, that's always a little too short for my panels, so I try to aim for 1280 x 2000 - 3000. It still deteriorates them a little bit, but people can always click on them for better quality. Bigger text and variation in values also help for readability regardless of size. (value meaning how light or dark a color is. if you want something to stand out it's more important to change the value than it is to change the hue generally speaking.) As for grabbing attention, I would recommend making sure that the image you're trying to show is visible above the cut off for longer posts, posts with only text visible are a lot less likely to get interaction. That being said, the most important thing for the longevity of your blog is making sure that it's something you are doing for yourself. There's nothing wrong with liking when your posts get attention, but it's not likely to happen for a long while (I think moon 5 was the first time I got double digit likes which was three months after I started.) I appreciate all of the love that Loudclan gets now, but if I had started with that as the goal I never would have been able to reach the point of it happening. (I actually started posting Loudclan with the intention of proving to myself once and for all that posting art was not a viable endeavor for me, so... I'll consider that a successful failure!)

You CANNOT DO THIS to me anon- "the canadian city"- YOU MEAN JUNEAU? YOU MEAN THE CAPITAL OF ALASKA JUNEAU?!?! JUNEAU?!?! CANADIAN?!?! When I catch you anon- anon when I catch you-

Come here, anon. I just want to talk. I just want to have a word with you.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Every once in a while I’ll see some posts about everyone should become vegan in order to help the environment. And that… sounds kinda rude. I’m sure they don’t mean to come off that way but like, humans are omnivores. Yes there are people who won’t have any animal products be it meat or otherwise either due to personal beliefs or because their body physically cannot handle it, and that’s okay! You don’t have to change your diet to include those products if you don’t want to or you physically can’t.

But there’s indigenous communities that hunt and farm animals sustainably and have been doing so for generations. And these animals are a primary source of food for them. Look to the bison of North America. The settlers nearly caused an extinction as a part of a genocide. Because once the Bison were gone it caused an even sharper decline of the indigenous population. Now thankfully Bison did not go extinct and are actively being shared with other groups across America.

Now if we look outside of indigenous communities we have people who are doing sustainable farming as well as hunting. We have hunting seasons for a reason, mostly because we killed a lot of the predators. As any hunter and they will tell you how bad the deer population can get. (Also America has this whole thing about bird feathers and bird hunting, like it was bad until they laid down some laws. People went absolutely nuts on having feathers be a part of fashion like holy cow.)

We’re slowly getting better with having gardens and vertical farms within cities, and there’s some laws on being able to have a chicken or two at your house or what-have-you in the city for some eggs. (Or maybe some quails since they’re smaller than chickens it’s something that you’d might have to check in your area.) Maybe you would be able to raise some honey bees or rent them out because each honey tastes different from different plants. But ultimately when it comes to meat or cheese? Go to your local farmers. Go to farmers markets, meet with the people there, become friends, go actively check out their farm. See how the animal lives are and if the farmer is willing, talk to them about sustainable agriculture. See what they can change if they’re willing. Support indigenous communities and buy their food and products, especially if you’re close enough that the food won’t spoil on its way to you. (Like imagine living in Texas and you want whale meat from Alaska and you buy it from an indigenous community. I would imagine that would be pretty hard to get.)

Either way everything dies in the end. Do we shame scavengers for eating corpses they found before it could rot and spread disease? Do we shame the animals that hunt other animals to survive? Yes factory farming should no longer exist. So let’s give the animals the best life we can give them. If there’s babies born that the farmer doesn’t want, give them away to someone who wants them as a pet. Or someone who wants to raise them for something else. Not everyone can raise animals for their meat. I know I can’t I would get to emotionally attached. I’d only be able to raise them for their eggs and milk.

Yeah this was pretty much thrown together, and I just wanted to say my thoughts and throw them into the void. If you have some examples of sustainable farming/agriculture, please share them because while I got some stuff I posted from YouTube, I’m still interested to see what stuff I might’ve missed!

[bethanythebogwitch]

So a while back I made this post

And it became very popular. While many people already knew, I did get some asking why humboldt squids are scary. So for this Wet Beast Wednesday I'm going to teach you why you should be afraid, or at least respectful, of molluscoid menace that is the humboldt squid.

(image: a humboldt squid)

Known to scientists as Dosidicus gigas and to many others as the jumbo squid, pota, jibia, and diablo rojo, the humboldt squid is the 5th largest squid in the world and the largest of the flying squids. Don't worry, it can't actually fly. They reach an average mantle length (tat's excluding the head and arms) of 1.5 meters, with some specimens reaching up to 2 meters (6.5 ft) in mantle length. The arms can reach up to another meter in length. Adults can weigh up to 50 kg (150 lbs), with females generally being larger than males. They live in the Pacific along the cost of the Americas, from the tip of South America up to California in North America. Some individuals have been known to travel farther north, up to Alaska, which is outside of their historical range. It is possible that as the ocean warms, their native range will continue to expand north.

(image: a humboldt squid releasing ink as a defense mechanism)

Humboldt squids reproduce in deep waters, and as a result we don't know much about their courtship. Males use a modified arm called the heterocotylus to transfer sperm into the female's mantle. She then lays a transparent, gelatinous egg mass that is left to float in the water column. These masses can range between 1 and 4 meters in diameter can can contain up to 4 million eggs. Hatchlings receive no parental care and most will die before adulthood. They grow extremely rapidly, likely as a self-defense against cannibalism by larger squids. Like many squid, humboldts only live for a year and die shortly after mating.

(image: a humboldt squid next to a much braver diver than I will ever be)

As with most cephalopods, the humboldt squid has cells called chromatophores that allow it to change color. Cameras attached to captured and released specimens have show two types of color-changing behavior: flashing and flickering. Flashing is when the animal changes rapidly between red and white. This is done in the presence of other squid and is likely a means of communication, possibly a form of courtship or warning to stay away. Flickering is when waves of red and white travel down the body. This is likely a form of camouflage to blend in with light flickering through the water. In addition to flashing and flickering, cameras have seen multiple forms of color changes and communication behaviors, indicating that they have a rich social life. The red color the squid turns when hunting contributes to its nickname amongst Mexican fishermen: "diablo rojo", the "red devil".

(gif: humboldts changing color)

So all that sounds pretty normal, why are they scary? Well that comes down to their feeding behavior and aggression. Humboldt squids hunt in shoals that can include thousands of members and go into feeding frenzies that can make shark feeding frenzies look like a child's tea party. They are infamous for their aggression and there are many stories of them attacking divers and fishermen. Not even they are immune to their predation, as multiple studies have found between a half and a quarter of all dissected specimens have recently fed on others of their species. Cannibalism may make up a major portion of their diet, though cannibalistic behavior seems to increase in response to stress. Their typical diet consists of fish, crustaceans, and other squids. Humboldts typically keep their two long tentacles coiled up between their arms, only for them to suddenly lash out and grab prey. These tentacles have multiple sharp hooks that have been reported to cause severe cuts in humans. Captured prey is then pulled in toward the beak and consumed. Feeding happens so fast that scientists need to us high-speed cameras to record the capture as the tentacles move so fast they prey can be caught and reeled in between frames. Eating is also fast enough that they can grab a hooked fish and skeletonize it in the time it takes a frustrated angler to pull their catch in. And if that wren't enough, they also engage in cooperative hunting, working together to catch prey. When not feeding or being hunted, they have been described as curious, though they often react to unfamiliar stimuli with aggression. Some divers have reported that humboldts will come investigate them and even act friendly, though I can't say I'd be willing to try it.

(gif: a squid attacking a camera)

(gif: hunting squid)

Numerous fishermen's tales and news stories tell of attacks on humans, but the squid do have a reason to not like us. They are fished heavily, especially off the coat of Mexico and are the most important squid for commercial fisheries. Humboldt squids make up about a third of all squid fished every year and are the most popular food squid. Squid meat is saturated with ammonium chloride, which they use for buoyancy, and must be prepared to remove the taste before eating. Not much is known about threats to conservation, though some speculate that overfishing and global warming disrupting their food supply could threaten the population. They are listed as data deficient by the IUCN. As scary as they might be, humboldt squids serve a very important ecological role in their territories, both as primary predators and as prey to sharks and toothed whales, and more research on their sustainability and conservation needs is important.

(image: a scientist attaching a crittercam to a humboldt squid)

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

welcome to my masterlist! here, you'll find everything i've ever written! enjoy!

Marvel

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Another Love- You meet Wanda at a grief group, as she’s struggling to heal after Vision’s death. Will you help her heal? Will your friendship grow into something more?

Under the Weather- You’re not feeling the greatest, but your girlfriend is there to nurse you back to health.

A Happy Ending- Wanda has to choose between you and Vision. But will she make the right choice?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Keep You Warm- You are stuck in a freezing cold safe-house in Alaska, but luckily Nat is there to provide you with some warmth.

Not a Monster- After coming home from Wakanda, you meet a certain red head recovering from rejection and show her she’s capable of being loved.

Rocky Road- After Bruce disappears, abandoning Nat, you help put the pieces of her broken heart back together. When Bruce comes back from Ragnarok and professes his love for Nat, will she reject him? Or will she break your heart and run back into his arms?

No More Hiding- You’re a super soldier fresh out of the ice, so it’s your first pride month. And you get to spend it with your girlfriend.

Enough- After Wanda cheats on you, you’re heartbroken. Luckily Nat is there to pick up the pieces.

All I Ever Asked- Promises are hard to keep as an avenger.

Yelena Belova x Reader

Always- You have a nightmare about your days in the Red Room, but Yelena is there to comfort you.

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x reader

Proud- After a not so pleasant dinner with your homophobic mother, your girlfriends are there to give you the support you need.

When They Remembered- Wanda and Nat forget your birthday. But will they remember before it’s too late?

Part 2

Take Care of You- You’re sick, but luckily your girlfriends are there to help.

Deserve- Sometimes your doubts and insecurities become too much to handle. But your girlfriends will always be there to remind you how much you mean to them.

Invisible- You feel invisible, and your powers don’t help with that fact. Can two redheads and a team of superheroes change that feeling?

Wanda Maximoff x Yelena Belova x reader

Starting Anew- You lost your mom. Yelena and Wanda lost a mentor figure. But can something good come from all this loss?

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Reader

Festivities- Yelena has never had a normal Christmas before. Time for her girlfriends to give her the best one yet!

Soteria- You struggle with being kept a secret by the team and the insecurities of not being good enough. After a hostage situation, your girlfriends reassure you of your worth.

Rio Vidal x Reader

Gentle Love- She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Home- She's fading away from you. Is the love you two share enough?

Part 2

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Lavender- Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Miscellaneous

Colt Seavers x Reader

Danger- you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?

Colt Seavers x Jody Moreno x Reader

Sane- You’re going crazy on a miserable set with a miserable director. Thank goodness you have two wonderful things that keep you sane.

Shelby Goodkind x Toni Shalifoe x Reader

Calm in the Storm- You are not okay. But you are also not alone.

Calliope Burns x Reader

Only You- you and Calliope had something going on that had yet to be labeled. so when your friend Juliette starts to take a liking to the girl, should you be concerned?

[kirlicues]

Cooke Corner | Sims 2 Residential Lot Download

This sprawling single-story ranch style home built on a 4x3 lot is the perfect abode for the sim who loves to cook. There are 2 separate kitchen spaces to create confectionary delights of all kinds!

This lightly furnished home will set your sim back §180,507. Let's take a tour and see what's included (aside from the kitchens)!

On one end of the backyard there is a pool...

...And on the other end, a small gazebo.

Want a better look at the front yard now? Oh good, 'cause that's where we're headed! 🤣

...And a view from the opposite side of the lot.

There are so many places to relax after a long day spent on your feet cooking and baking!

I've mentioned how I'm more of a builder, not so much of a game player, but at one point I built lots for most of the pre-made "lot bin" families that came with the game. This particular lot was especially for the Cooke family. I never did play long enough to find him a wife and start a family, so there's only 1 bedroom on the main level, but there is some extra space in the basement (thankfully there are no rules in the game about having to have egress windows) so a larger family can live here.

Speaking of which, let's take a look at the floor plan.

1st Floor: Clockwise from left: Dining room, kitchen, half-bath, back entryway and patio, laundry room, bathroom, bedroom, garage, living room, and front entryway.

Basement: Clockwise from bottom left: Chef's kitchen (with double stoves and double fridges!), guest bedroom/2nd bedroom, closet storage space, bathroom, and office.

Ok, so maybe you love the look of the house but don't have a family that lives to create Baked Alaska and Lobster Thermidor--no problem! Tear out the kitchen and turn it into a bedroom or maybe a craft room. It's up to you!

Cooke Corner: MF | SFS

All EPs and SPs are required.

*I highly recommend that you have the PerfectPlants mod from TwoJeffs*

I’ve run this home through the Lot Compressor so any random references to sims that aren’t there should be removed. I have also run this lot through the Lot Cleaner to remove any bits of buggy code. This lot comes with a shiny custom thumbnail so it has even more curb appeal in your Lots and Houses bin! 😄

This home has 4 pieces of CC, 2 of which are Maxis "Lost & Found" items that you may already have in your game (used in the downstairs bedroom). These can easily be replaced or omitted if you don’t want them though.

CC List (Included): -Maxis Match Wall Cabinets by CTNutmegger at ModtheSims -LG Dryer & Washer Machine by Fresh-Prince at ModtheSims

CC List (Not Included): -Maxis "Lost & Found" BILLY Wallshelf at Mod the Sims -Maxis "Lost & Found" BENNO Coffee Table at Mod the Sims

Default Replacements Shown: -White Wall Top Texture Replacement by Maranatah at Mod the Sims

I ALWAYS recommend using the Sims 2 Pack Clean installer to install lot files.

Want to improve the look of your game, or grab some “Lost & Found” Maxis objects? Check out this post.

[sunlightgalaxy]

heating up in here

hotchniss alaska au

warnings: smut, case talk, the usual

a/n: this got looooong oops ! for the sake of the story we’re pretending they weren’t matchy matchy and that she is in fact wearing his sweater

(gifs by @aaronwhorechner )

**

“i’m not sleeping with reid.”

emily stifled a laugh, watching as penelope instantly claimed dibs on sharing with morgan.

“come on, spence, we can share.” jj spoke, placing an arm around the young agent to turn him towards the stairs. and then there were three.

rossi wordlessly looked between emily and aaron before sticking his hand out for a key. 4 rooms, 7 people; the math wasn’t hard, there was one single room. and dave knew he had it to himself.

“guess it’s you and me tonight,” hotch said, picking up his bag and making his way towards the room. emily followed in tow, doing her best to keep up.

“you think they have heat?” she asked as she trailed behind, arms rubbing against herself as best she could to keep warm. emily was a cold woman. not emotionally, well, not anymore, but physically cold almost all of the time. needless to say, she was not doing too well in the alaskan weather.

“let’s hope,” hotch said, stopping at the hotel room door. he unlocked the lock, taking a little longer than emily pleased.

“what, did you forget how to open a door?” she teased.

“it’s an old hotel, prentiss,” hotch sighed, finally pushing the door open. “the lock probably hasn’t been changed in decades.” he walked in, flicking on the light and stopping in his tracks. which, naturally, caused emily to walk straight into his backside.

“ow, hotch!” emily yelped, her hand reaching for his shoulder to steady herself. she was about to ask why the hell he stopped walking two steps into the room when she noticed what caught his attention: the lone, king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“you can have it,” hotch said, moving in further and digging clothes out of his go-bag. “you get cold.” emily rolled her eyes, grabbing her own pajamas from her bag.

“don’t be stupid, there’s no couch and you’ll kill your back laying on the floor every night.” she reasoned, watching him make his way to the bathroom. “we’re adults, we’ll be fine.”

“yeah,” she heard hotch call as he shut the door. emily dug through her go-bag, grabbing her pajamas and groaning. the case had been called in hours after they returned from their previous one, meaning she hadn’t had time to properly pack her bag. which meant she had no sweatshirt. sighing, she threw on her sweats and t-shirt and waited for hotch to be done in the bathroom.

he walked out moments later, breath catching in his throat when he caught sight of emily. his eyes flitted down to her chest, nipples visible through the fabric of her shirt. clearing his throat, he looked back up at her and spoke. “no sweatshirt?”

“forgot to pack one,” she mumbled, walking into the bathroom and closing the door. splashing water onto her face, emily sighed as she resigned herself to sharing a bed with her boss. her very attractive boss, no less.

stepping out, her eyes landed on hotch, sitting in bed looking over the case file. he looked up, eyes meeting hers momentarily before reaching behind him. “here,” he said, tossing his brown quarter-zip sweater towards her. “it’ll keep you warm tonight.”

emily smiled gratefully, pulling on the warm fabric and watching it pool around her arms. “thank you,” she mumbled softly, climbing into the bed next to him. “goodnight hotch.”

“goodnight prentiss,” hotch replied, taking a moment to look at her before shutting the light off. god, she looked so good in his sweater. he laid there for a moment, the darkness and silence of the room really putting into perspective his situation. he was sharing a bed with his subordinate, arguably his most attractive one, in the middle of alaska. truly not how hotch had expected his day to end.

emily, meanwhile, had the same thought about her boss looming in the back of her mind. however, she couldn’t bear to focus on that, instead channeling all of her energy into not shivering. as warm as hotch’s sweater was - and fuck, it was warm - she was still freezing. arms wrapped around herself, doing her best to not hog the covers, emily tried her hardest to keep warm and still.

it was no use though, hotch could feel her body twitching every so often. plus, her teeth were chattering so frequently that he thought they would chip. he debated for a moment whether he should sacrifice his own warmth and give her the blanket, or cross the line and give her his embrace. and as much as he wanted to just give her the blanket, he didn’t want to be cold either.

she felt the bed dip first, feeling hotch roll to his other side. then, she felt the warmth encapsulate her body as his arm wrapped against her. finally, she felt his body directly against her back as he pulled her flush to him. oh. she was definitely warm now. their close proximity meant that when he whispered to her, his words went straight to her ear, hot breath tickling her skin. “think you can sleep now?”

no. absolutely not. “yeah,” she whispered back, making a feeble attempt to relax her body and find a comfortable position. instead, however, she found her ass pressed directly against him. she was sure her skin was fucking boiling at this point, cursing herself internally for even moving half an inch. she felt hotch breathing heavily against her, and all she could do was pray he was asleep and close her eyes.

he was not asleep, instead focusing everything on trying not to get rock hard against emily’s ass. unfortunately for hotch, no amount of steady breathing could stop his dick from growing harder. feeling the sudden warmth on her ass, emily smirked to herself. “think you’ll be able to sleep now?” she whispered, stifling a giggle.

“emily,” hotch groaned, his tone somewhere between a moan and a warning. keeping her lower body in place, she turned her head around to meet hotch’s eyes. the smirk fell from her face when she was met with nothing but lust from the man in front of her. gasping, she felt hotch’s hand wrap around her waist, snaking its way up bottom of the sweater.

“aaron,” she whispered, a moan catching in her throat. her free arm wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. she could feel his breath on her lips, inches away from making contact with her own.

and that’s when they heard a scream.

***

“his name’s craig ramey. fisherman.”

the team gathered around the latest victim, all clad in their pajamas and jackets. as the discussion about the unsub’s accelerated schedule picked up, emily’s attention only strayed further. she could practically feel hotch’s eyes boring into her cheek, and if she was still enough, she could almost feel his breath on her skin.

aaron was doing all he could to maintain his professional manner in this moment, but all thoughts led him back to emily. he forced his eyes on the victim in front, around the team, at the cops, but they always found their way back to her.

“it’s still late,” hotch spoke suddenly, clearing his voice. “i’m sure none of us got much sleep, why don’t we all take a couple hours to rest and get ready for the morning?” it wasn’t a question, and he knew there wouldn’t be any rest in his room.

the team trickled apart, each making their way back to their respective rooms. emily stopped at hers, waiting for aaron to make his way from back of the group. he opened the door, and when emily stepped inside it was only a matter of seconds before the door was locked and she was pressed against it.

“aaron,” she gasped, arms wrapping around his neck to stabilize herself. he looked into her eyes, pupils blow.

“what, sweetheart?” he asked, voice about a whisper.

“kiss me.”

and kiss her he did. lips against each other, breathy moans traveling from emily’s throat to aaron’s mouth. she could feel his stubble against her face, turning her on more than she already was. his hips pushed towards her, causing emily to gasp when she felt his cock press against her pulsing core. aaron pulled back, lips beginning to nip along her neck. one hand braced her hip against the wall, the other finding its way through her layers of clothing.

“look so fucking good in my sweater, baby,” he muttered, eliciting a moan from emily as he twisted her nipple. “gonna fuck you so good while you wear it.”

“aaron,” she whined, his name apparently being the only word her brain could form. she released one hand from his hair, bringing it down to fumble with his jeans. before she could even get them unbuttoned, however, he was pressing his hips forward, cock straining against her hand. “fuck,” she groaned. “need you so badly.”

“is that so?” he asked, emily practically feeling the smirk radiating off of him. “take me then.”

she didn’t need to be told twice. she had his pants and boxers dropped in seconds. eyes blowing wide at the size of his cock. emily sunk to her knees, taking her time to work him with her hand. “emily,” hotch moaned, almost as if it was a warning. it was then she wrapped her lips around him, moaning at the string of curses he muttered while she swirled her tongue around his tip. inch by inch, she took him in her mouth, jaw aching from the size of him. she bobbed back and forth, increasing speed ever so slowly and wrapping a hand around what couldn’t fit.

hotch looked down, pupils blown at the sight of emily beneath him. he let out a groan, even more turned on when he felt her gag around him. they locked eyes, emily watching his expressions as she moved back and forth. it became too much, then, hotch tapping her cheek twice as a sign to release.

“too good at that,” he murmured, thumb wiping away the stray tears that fell from her eyes. “would’ve cum if you kept going, and i’m saving that for when i’m inside you.”

it was emily’s turn to groan, which no sooner turned into a squeal as hotch swept her off her feet and placed her on the bed. true to his word, he removed all her clothing, save for his sweater. taking of the remnants of his clothes, aaron climbed on top of her and pressed two fingers to her lips. instinctively, she opened her mouth, sucking the digits nicely until he pulled back.

within seconds those same fingers delved into her wet, soaking cunt. emily moaned, to which aaron placed his free hand on top of her mouth. “can’t have you being too loud, can we?” she shook her head, mouth opening and closing against his palm as aaron’s pace picked up.

“aaron, oh my god,” emily whispered, nearly biting his palm to keep from screaming. he smiled, planing a kiss to her head as he added a third finger inside her. she groaned, head pushing away from his hand and dropping to his shoulder. “fuck, aaron, please,” she whined, feeling herself getting closer to the edge.

“come for me, baby,” he muttered in her ear, groaning softly as he felt her tip over the edge. “good girl, so good for me.” he fucked her through her orgasm until it was too much, emily removing his hand and panting into his chest.

“holy fuck,” she breathed, slowly catching her breath. she looked up at hotch, meeting his soft smile with one of her own.

“you okay?” he asked.

“yeah,” she said. “so okay.”

“good.” he didn’t waste a second before pushing her back onto the bed, spreading her legs as he followed and lined up inside her. she gasped, locking eyes with him.

“please,” she whispered, staring at his hard, leaking cock at the edge of her equally soaked cunt.

“oh god, emily,” he moaned, watching his dick disappear under his sweater and into her pussy. “so fucking tight, so fucking good.”

“aaron,” emily whine, relishing in how good the pain was as his dick stretched out her cunt. she didn’t even want time to adjust to his size, she needed him to fuck her. “move.”

he wasted no time, fucking her with a rapid pace. “oh, emily,” he moaned, a string of curses following under his breath. emily groaned at the sensation, his tip hitting her perfectly. aaron looked up and felt himself getting closer as he watched emily, her mouth agape as she bit back a whimper. “so good for me,” he said, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. “i’m so close.”

“inside,” she responded, no hesitation. “please.”

“of course,” he whispered, picking up the pace and moving impossibly faster. he felt emily’s orgasm before she did, her moans combined with the clenching around his cock pulling his own. he spilt into her, stilling as they came down from their high.

he pulled out, laying down next to emily and turning to look at her. she turned to him, a soft smile on her face that matched his. “what?” she asked.

“you’re beautiful,” he responded, pushing her grown-out bangs out of her face. “pretty girl.” she blushed as he planted a kiss to her cheek, pulling her into his arms.

“you’re not so bad yourself,” she spoke, her voice muffled against his chest. “can i keep the sweater?” she asked a moment later, feeling his chest vibrate with laughter.

“for the rest of the trip, sure.” he said. “i have others i can wear. but i want it back, that’s my favorite one.”

“yeah,” emily sighed. “me too.”