#i want to see my girl as a veteran i want her to get so grey only her ears are black i want her to teach the next puppies how to behave

[imaginespazzi]

We finally got to watch UConn WBB play and as always I have thoughts!

I'm ngl, I almost jumped off a cliff after that first quarter but I'm very glad I didn't because the rest of the game didn't actually make me want to kms!

We'll start with the obvious which is: PAIGE. BUECKERS. NATIONAL. PLAYER. OF. THE. YEAR. 27 points on 12-14 (!!) shooting and 9 rebounds. My double-double prediction (even if it was point/assists) was almost true and really she should have had more assists but as the story goes, her team sold her dimes as per usual. But the main thing is don't let no fucking list fool you, PAIGE BUECKERS IS THE BEST FUCKING PLAYER ON THE PLANET.

I told y'all Kaitlyn was gonna get the first points didn't I? AND SHE DID!! In general I thought she was really good and everything I expected her to do well, she did. She's a great veteran presence and I think she's really gonna raise her draft stock at UConn

YEE FUCKING HAW. ASHLYNN SHADE THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. I said four 3's, she gave me 3 but the main thing is that her feet did move one defense!! She was aggressive on both sides of the ball and my favorite part of her stat sheet is the 4 steals. Feeling like a proud mom about my sophomore.

Sarah Strong YOU are my NFOY. I was so impressed with her and I knew she'd be good but I think she was even better than expected. The 3s didn't fall today but I very much do expect them to eventually fall and when they do, well it's basically game over!

Jana's hustle is going to pay dividends. She's aggressive and as soon as she's able to do that in a more controlled manner that doesn't lead to fouls, it's going to be something special. She and the team have both got to work to make sure she's getting up more shots though.

Allie baby 2-10 from 3...where's that girl from first night go? But I'm actually not that mad about it. Partly because she's simply just not gonna have the opportunity to do that again and also because I actually like that she keeps on shooting and doesn't let it phase her. The defense definitely needs a fair amount of work.

And finally Ice....*sigh* girlie GET IN THE FUCKING PAINT. Listen it wasn't all bad and I thought she was okay on defense and at least she did grab rebounds but like oh my god PLEASE JUST GET IN THE FUCKING PAINT. Maybe it's a confidence thing, maybe it's that she wants to be a wing but she just needs to get in the paint

I really liked our effort to rebound today. I won't read too much into it because it's a D2 team and we're taller than everyone but hustle can be translated and I hope to see it against better opponents too.

What I really didn't like is how stagnant the offense started off and how stagnant it got a couple of times, especially when Paige was out. But that's a new team thing and it's going to take some time to mesh it all together for 40 minutes and while it's not great right now, I see a lot of potential.

Final thought, y'all see my girl in warmups? MY AZZI BAHAMAS AGENDA IS IN FULL EFFECT!!

[pippindot]

Lots of good vibes for Pip please. Her tummy is still getting bigger. She does not seem uncomfortable, and is in fact currently begging me for breakfast, but I don't like to see this increase. I'm suspicious this is actually a result of her very low protein diet, as she's having no other symptoms of liver distress. We all need some protein to build albumin, and albumin is what keeps your fluid inside your blood vessels. Low albumin means leaky vessels means ascites. There are some other liver formulations out there with slightly higher protein, so we might climb the scale. The main goal of low protein is to avoid neurological symptoms, and we haven't had any of those, so it should be safe to try. Nutrition consult tomorrow and I hope they're ready for the freight train.

Worst case, I may bip my little self on over to their ER and get some diuretics for her. The timing is very poor since we are traveling for Boofest, but at least we are going to be in an area with a lot of specialty services.

Most of all, she seems in good spirits and is not having any trouble breathing. Let's hope this is temporary and won't require long term medication to manage. I want to preserve her kidneys as much as we can.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Beekeeping age [Dilf!Konig x fem!Reader]

You're ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so you decided to fuck his hot military dad instead. You're going to find out why his first wife ran as fast as she did, very soon - but Konig is still the best dick that ever happened to you.

CW: Daddy kink(obvi), power imbalance, possessive Konig, perverted Konig, age gap(Reader in her early twenties, Konig in his early forties), mentions of cheating(your ex is a douchebag anyway), slightly obsessive Konig, size kink, unprotected sex.

FIRST PART (can be read separately) AO3

— Why your wife left you, again? 

You stuff your face full of…something. He cooked it – gods did he cook it well. It’s meat and vegetables and spices, and it feels like your dad cooking but twice as good. It feels like pure sin because he says you shouldn’t worry about calorie counts or how fat the meat is, or how good everything tastes fried because he needs his special girl to feel good and healthy and fatten up a little bit, and you…gods, you’re down. Bad. 

You wonder if König’s wife left because she couldn’t compete with his cooking. You wonder if his wife left because he was feeding her too good. 

— Why don’t we leave uneasy questions for later, Schatzi? 

He brushes his hand over your hair, taking in the way you look – dressed up in his shirt, skin covered in bites and bruises from his hold. He can’t see it right now but can almost testify to the way your lipstick was all over his collar – good thing he wasn't wearing his uniform shirt, wouldn’t want to make dorks from Kobra jealous. 

He brings you another plate, he fills your glass – you never knew beer could taste this good, but he whispered something about having his own little homemade brewery for wine and beer somewhere in the mountains, in his Summer house. This man has a hug apartment in Vienna and a Summer house – you think you heard him having enough land to go hunting and to keep bees, and you might have cum a little bit just here and there. 

— I would like to know the story, actually. To not repeat her mistakes, you know. 

— You won’t, Liebling. I can already picture you with a ring on your pretty finger. 

— Not so fast. Maybe I don’t believe in marriage. 

— You’re too young to stop believing in it. 

— Way to talk when you’re the divorced one, sir. 

— Shut it, Schatzen. I can still take care of a good girl like you, ja? König leans in to kiss you, his lips brushing over your mouth – it’s wet and swollen, he bite you quite a few times already, and you feel dizzy just from the way his tongue lingers just a second before going in, taking your arousal even more. His hand gently brushes some hair from your face and you giggle from the sensation of his rough fingers on the softness of your skin. It never failed to mesmerize you, just how seasoned and old the colonel might be – and his hands would still tremble as if he is handling the finest porcelain doll in his hands. He has the expression of an anxious, devoted follower – you are not sure how his wife could left him. If he was looking at you like this every day, even as you go through with pregnancy and a piece of shit kid like Paul, you would die before leaving him. 

— Could you two please stop fucking each other? 

— I thought you wanted to move to dorms.

— This is my house too!

— Not on the documents, it’s not. — You can’t just throw me away, dad! — Your new stepmom needs her space. 

König grasps your shoulder as you try to stop them from arguing again – it’s embarrassing enough that you’re fucking your ex’s dad. Colonel makes it a whole fucking show, parading you around as his controversially young girlfriend, making sure that his son will hear your moans and whimpers as you get fucked at every surface of this apartment. You were wondering if you could ask him to move to the Summer house – even with your college and all. You can take a gap year and write a journalist investigation about lonely veterans and their mastery at brewing alcohol. You can take a gap year and try your best in the new trophy wife gig. König’s hand is firm on your shoulder – you know better than to try and argue with him, the silent recognition of authority loud in your head. You sigh, trying your best to just stop yourself from acting too damn weird. It’s their male thing, and you’re just an intruder in a big T-shirt and old leggings. König said it wasn’t his wifey’s – that he burned all of her stuff when she left. Somehow, you find peace in that statement. 

— How could you even…Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. She is my age! — And the most beautiful girl in the world. I can see why you liked her. — She is my girlfriend! — Schatzi came to me in distress and begged me to take her. I think we both knew you weren’t…the best option. You feel more embarrassed with each second of their conversation. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to take in their words, you feel like a trophy being discarded between two different winners. You feel like a prized mare on a farm – and they won’t even look at you. Too distracted by the sound of their voices, you eat your dinner in somewhat somber peace because you need to eat, after all, and you really like what König cooks. You like what König does most of the time. All of the time. 

Paul storms off the room after a few minutes of bickering. You feel guilty for not stopping him because he was still kinda your boyfriend. You ex-boyfriend. Your asshole incel-ish ex-boyfriend whose assholless literally made you go and sleep with his dilfy dad, and…god, you feel like a whore. Good. Paul was calling you a whore a lot of the time, you may as well take the new name and plaster it in your new badge. 

König’s hand lingers on your back, caressing it gently. You whimper because you feel bad and you’re still in college, and Paul’s disgusted reaction reminds you that fucking a guy in his forties isn’t the best business decision. Even if the said guy is a retired colonel with shitload of money, even if he still goes to work sometimes, just because he wants to feel cool and shoot guns at bad guys, even if this guy buys you cool gifts and he promised to renovate your car or buy you a new one, and he makes plans and takes you to places that don’t make you feel like begging for attention. 

If anything, you feel like he is drowning you with attention. 

His hand lets go of your shoulder – he was holding you so tight the whole conversation, you can sense the bruises forming on your skin. You lick your lips, and he moves to kiss you again. You feel like drowning, you feel like this is all just a dream – and you’re also drunk because gods, König knows how to make a good glass of…something. 

— You shouldn’t act like this. He is your son. 

He laughs dismissingly. He dismisses a lot of things you said – you think it’s the age difference. You think he is just being traditional, and you don’t want to be too nagging. You don’t want to end up like his wife and wake up from the dear you’ve been seeing. 

König’s lips are soft, and you can look past his hands, taking you too possessively – you can close your eyes, and you can just listen to his accent, smiling as his tongue worms its way into your mouth. He is good, you think – at this whole kissing thing. At this whole “Hi there, I’m a retired old dog and I am fucking the girlfriend of my only son. I’m divorced btw” .

He has experience – you know it when he tucks your lip between his teeth, when he massages your shoulders as you spread your legs already, so wet for him, it’s almost embarrassing. You never slept much with Paul – his poor excuse of a son – it was always never enough lube, it was always never enough attention, he always needed you to shave or to leave your hair to grow a little bit, it was either your perfume being too sweet or you no wearing anything at all. You thought he would have much more fun masturbating to his anime chicks and poor gaming sessions with his friends. 

But König isn’t like this – every time he drops on his knees to eat you out like a man starving, you feel utter and complete devotion. In his tongue, in his mouth, in his teeth as he sucks little marks into your thighs, making sure you will remember it tomorrow when he will ask you to stay for breakfast and then ride you to whatever you need to come next. Last time he promised to drive you to the library, he took a few turns and took you to some restaurant instead. You gushed about not having proper attire, he was still in his half-uniform and rocking dark cargo pants, and he was apologizing every time his fingers hit that special spot in your cunt as he fingered you during the second course of meals. He said that he was so, sorry about not fucking you properly, about having to resort to public displays like this – and you were too high on loving him to care. You still are. — I don’t think we should be…

— He left. Won’t bother us anymore. 

— I’m not in the mood right now. 

— You’re always in the mood, Schatzen. Enough to drive me crazy. — You’re a pervert. Like Paul. 

— He takes on after his father, ja?

It would alarm you how much contempt he had for his own child right now. Then, again, you were the one who dumped his son for the powerhouse of a dad. Maybe it was your daddy issues, maybe it was your dumb reasoning and the summer break that you didn’t want to spend with your family. Good thing you’re spending it with the other. 

König’s face is buried between your legs, his teeth tugging on the soft fabric, forcing your leggings down. God, it feels good – he is so high on wanting you, can’t even wait to take off your clothes properly. You never had a man wanting you so badly before – it’s addicting, it’s crushing, it makes you feel like a goddess among men. Makes you feel wanted, a thing that your ex never did. 

You forget about guilt when he kisses your lower tummy, when his lips trace down to your cunt, taking sharp licks through your panties. You wore them this morning, something from a new lacy set he bought – one of the only ones that weren’t torn off from your body the moment you took them on. He always wanted you to make these little fashion shows for him, making good use of his money – you weren’t a sugar baby, not on paper, you still clutched to the last traces of your dignity, but he did buy you a lot of gifts. 

— S’ pretty for me, Liebling. The prettiest girl in the world.

— I assume after…af..ter your wife. 

You giggle when he frowns, his rugged face filled with concern. He doesn’t like jokes about his marriage – you don’t want to ask him about it because it would mean waking up from a dream you want to experience over and over again, but you heard what Paul was talking about. What his mom told him about. you heard enough to know that kissing a man like König is a safety hazard and a liability that you can’t afford, but it’s warm, and he is rich, and you don’t want to go back to your part-time job this season. You want to be dumb and you want to be young – right now, you’re doing both. — Don’t be so dumb, Schatzi. Although it suits you. 

— I’m not dumb! 

— Nein, you’re not. Just silly. 

— You just call me a different type of dumb. 

— I like it when you’re dumb. Makes you cuter. 

König is awkward and funny, and he buys you things that you could never afford. He is mysterious and kind – to you, not his enemies – and he uses German words randomly in his phrases because he knows the accent, and the pronunciation drives you crazy. You never thought of thinking of yourself as a dilf hunter but, hell, here you are. With his dark ginger stubble – and grey streaks that make you go wild every time you look at him – between your thighs. It’s tickling, and it’s a bit irritating, and he will rub some calming lotion in your skin after this, making sure to cover every inch of your skin with some expensive cream that he knows jackshit about, but you wanted it, and so he went out and bought it. Gosh, you felt dumb even asking him for this. 

He traces his kisses along your thighs, tongue lingers to press against your wet, swollen folds. Flirting in front of Paul made you embarrassingly hot, solidifying you as a shitty, bad, horny person who needs fat cock stuffed in your leaking pussy. You lick your lips, and you tremble when he pushes his tongue inside. He is starving, pushy with all of his needs – makes you almost beg for it, like a pet he took from the street. 

— I want to take you to the Summer house next week. 

You open your eyes, shocked. It’s nothing, really, you shouldn’t be this surprised about him wanting to show off his other properties. You want to check out his wine cellar and how sturdy the furniture is. You want to see if he had deers running around the house. If he had any pictures of his family – and if you could ever hope to compete with his ex-wife. It’s a petty competition, but you don’t have much to do and to think about. It’s obvious the love here won’t last until the end of the break, and you want to get as much from it as possible. Maybe even some hot bikini picks at his pool. He has to have one. — What if I have plans, sir? 

It’s innocent and you play the role well. You think some of your friends wanted to hang out or make a study group for the upcoming semester. You are a good girl at heart, with nice grades and a perfectly played-out future, and not as many working opportunities as you may like, but you could manage with something. Writing a killer essay about your life with a smoke show during Summer would be easy with someone like him. 

He laughs, his hand lightly smacks your butt. You bite your lip and whimper, not accustomed to pain feeling this good. 

— You will change them, little one. For the whole Summer. 

— I wanted to study. 

You moan when he lightly presses his tongue on your swollen clit, kissing and licking it. Slick runs down your legs, and he collects it with his mouth. You whimper again, tears prickling at the edge of your eyes – the sensation is sudden and overwhelming, makes you get your hands in his hair and slightly tug. He groans, pleasure from having you so active, so participating is overwhelming. He loves you, loves you, loves you, adores you. God, you’re beautiful. And so, so restrained – just his special good girl. Only for him. — You can study at our house. 

— You mean you and your ex’s house. 

He smacks you again for the foul language – although you know you didn’t even curse, he is still punishing you. In the lightest way possible, of course, you know you won’t handle anything too harsh – still, you feel nice and warm when he isn’t just eating you out, but also smacks you for speaking in such unpretty words again. 

You don’t even register the way he called the house yours too. All too dumb for this, again. 

— I mean our house, Schatzen. Just you and your daddy, ja? You worry too much about studying. 

— I want a nice job. Without…distractions. 

He slips one finger in your warm, tight hole – even just one digit is enough to make you shiver, clenching it like a sloppy whore. He is big in every way – just two of his fingers are bigger than a normal cock, and no, you didn’t want to compare a son with his father, but even Paul’s cock, as big as it was, was still way thinner than his father’s. 

— Why you need a job? 

— Not everyone are retired military. I need money. 

— You have me. 

— I d…don’t want to be a sugar baby. Sir. 

— I have no problems with being your daddy, Schatzen.

König is build like a powerhouse – when he slips just the tip into you, ignoring all previous preparation because, by god, you both need to feel connected, he is dragging you on top of the table, tossing aside the dirty dishes with remains of his perfectly cooked dinner…and you feel like home. Almost. 

You imagine waking up with his cock every morning, and with the nice cup of coffee only he can make. You imagine him gushing about rebuilding the house and working on his tight and neat desk job at the mercenary company – something about instructing, dumb recruits, only the most elite missions as an operator in retirement, creating strategies and tactics for the warfare – and thinking that, wow, your husband is really cool. You shouldn’t be thinking this because this is just a summer fling. Your relationships with Paul weren’t too serious either, you just didn’t want to be alone. 

König gently caresses your fingers, whispering something about numbers – you think you could recognize the word for a ring a bit later when he was making a call to some friend. In German, of course, you don’t quite understand it, but you worm your warm on his lap like a spoiled cat, purring on his crotch like a good fucking girl. But it was a while later. 

Now, you’re gasping and panting, his cock spreading you open and stuffing you like the poor bird he was cooking for dinner. You know you won’t be able to walk after a short while – would probably have to spend the day at his house, with him cooing and gushing about your sore body while he is quietly proud of himself. If you’re lucky, you could convince him to let you go in the evening. If you’re not, he will ask you to stay the night, and maybe even a bit more, and then he will just get the bag with your stuff from your room in the dorm by himself, and then… — What do you think about getting married in August?

Maybe, you do know why his wife left him. 

[bunnys-kisses]

HI HI omg this is my first request

Can I order a coffee with side of crostata and crème caramel served by 7x world champion Lewis Hamilton

And can the situation be they are both drivers and she pushed him of the track and won so after the race she avoids him until he catches her finally

Love the bakery btw 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

bakery menu

want to submit your own order! then check out the menu! there are tons of options and i'd love for you check it out! as for this lovely anon! thank you for the submissions! you know i love a good rivals au, i eat it up!! so i hope you love it! enjoy!

crostata (“stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.”) crème caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + coffee (rivals au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dom/sub, rivals au, driver!reader, mean!lewis, rough sex, driver's room sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, mean!lewis

you had been hiding since you pulled ahead in zandvoort, securing first place. you got past norris, you got past verstappen, and you even got past the seven time world champion, lewis hamilton.

maybe your methods were a little unconventional on the track, after all, you pushed lewis off the track as a meant to secure your spot. so currently the mercedes driver was upset with you.

so therefore you were avoiding him.

you and lewis had been rivals for close to two seasons. even if he was the seasoned veteran of the track. the top title holder with a model's face and the heart of an engine. and you were a little firecracker. you came onto the scene and drove like the devil himself was on your heels.

one the track, in the paddock or in front of the press. you were the first in a while to really give him a run for his money. while you weren't a beauty queen, the media thought you were their darling. when lewis accused it of amazing media training, you just smiled, "what's wrong hamilton, under my spell too?" and lewis wanted nothing more than for you to choke on his cock.

but, lewis was a good finder. and soon as you slinked through the empty paddock. everyone packed up for the night, you heard his voice, "is that the princess!" his voice echoed in your brain.

you swallowed and tried to start moving faster. but lewis had a wider stride and even if you tried to run. he would follow. after all, he wanted to see today's winner.

"there you are!" he said with faux sweetness in case there were any lingering workers. he grabbed you from behind and hoisted you around, "there's the winner! i was looking all over for you." you tried to make yourself dead weight so he'd let go of you, but when he whispered in your ear, your knees turned to jelly, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?"

"hi, lewis." you swallowed.

his hand was spread across your chest. he could feel your racing pulse. he exhaled close to your ear and said, "oh, you're very funny for thinkin' that, love."

"it was an accident."

"no, no. don't lie. where's all that bravado. you look like you're going to pass out. what about the spell you had?"

"i'm sorry for pushing you off the track."

he kissed a kiss on the back of your neck, almost tender, "words mean nothing, love. can i trust you to walk about thirty feet to my driver's room? can you be a good girl for me?"

"lewis, can't this-"

"no." he said simply, "if this was about half an hour ago i would've driven us to my nice hotel and we could've even had dinner before i wrecked you. but not now, now you get to be fucked in the driver's room." his tone left you feeling hazy.

you tried to stand your ground with him, "they didn't call it, so you have no reason to be mad. you can't just pull those cheap seduction tricks and except me to fall for them."

his hands groped your ass and he said, "no, no. it's just the princess getting her special treatment once again. she can do no wrong." he kissed your neck once more, "can't let that ego get too big. because if you stop winning and the shininess of a female driver fades. they'll drop you. but i'll always have a place for you, love. right between my legs."

your stomach twisted, you felt a throb of heat in your chest. you said softly, "driver's room, right?" there was no escaping this.

lewis let go of you, but took you by the hand as an extra safety precaution. he even swung your hand like you were lovers as you walked to his driver's room. meanwhile you were mentally screaming.

you and lewis have had sex before. it was an open secret in the paddock, so much so the press had caught onto it. but it was all a flurry of rumors. there was no evidence, only word of mouth from the poor employees that caught you in the act.

you got into the room without much trouble. despite what many thought, the driver's room was the worst place to have sex. it felt like it was almost designed for driver's not to have sex.

it wasn't spacious, something about the furniture left it almost impossible to get intimate at a good angle. and that was where lewis was going to teach you a lesson.

lewis started to get undressed and expected you to do the same. he locked the door so there was no intrusion. if someone with a camera caught you, it would be international news.

then the press would talk about the eventually wedding and kids. and even the mere thought of it made you feel disgusted. being married to lewis, you had a career to go after. women to inspire! you couldn't be tired down to a man like lewis.

but yet he had you on the carpet, your hands above your head with your ass in the air. there was something domineering about him in that moment. the charming lewis, a true face of formula one, had you spread out on the carpet, ready to devour you.

you tried to get out of your clothes with your head pressed against the carpet. you kicked off your pants and struggled to get your panties off, briefly getting tangled in them.

lewis chuckled, "stuck there, love?"

you replied, huffing against the carpet, "i'm fine, i'm fine." you got out of your clothes and yelped when lewis smacked your soft ass.

"i have to admit." he said as he leaned back on his heels with his hard cock in hand, "you are very pretty. you could sell tickets with that face, but if you showed a little more. you could sellout tracks."

you arched your back and sighed into the carpet, "is that why you show all that skin online."

he leaned on top of you, his cock almost slipping in. he said, "no, no. i do those because i know you're looking. you still follow me online, love. i know you're watching and i like showing off."

you felt your heart skip a beat and you gripped into the carpeted floor, "fuck, lewis."

he pulled away a little and then rubbed the blunt tip of his cock up against your slick entrance. he said, "i know, i know. i'll make it all better soon." then eased into your pussy, which made you make the sweetest noises for him.

such a foe on the track, but when you were under him, you were a little lamb. you wouldn't hurt a fly. or push someone off the track.

he held onto your hips as he started to move. there was little time for introductions. the need to fuck was intense, it was causing your blood to run hot. you held onto the carpet and tried to meet his pace, but he kept it in a way that threw you off.

"you look good under me." he chuckled, his mouth was near your ear, he was keeping your top half pressed with the carpet. the material of it rubbed awkwardly against your breasts, leaving them a little raw from the movements.

"lewis. please, i'm sorry." you croaked.

he replied, almost softly, "i'll forgive you when you make me finish. can't be in a good enough mood to forgive when i'm hard as fuck." his lips trailed down your neck, and it made you shiver.

you whimpered a little, the feeling flooded your brain. the rush of feelings left you feeling hazy. your heartbeat felt distant in your ears as he continued to fuck you.

it was private, but it felt so public. someone with the right key could easily find lewis hamilton taking apart his rival. you were his favourite one, in a total honestly if he'd want anyone to beat him, it would be you.

but he'd never tell you that, he'd push you to your racing and sexual limits, leaving you gasping for more. flood that little head of yours with the reminder of how he made you feel.

you came and you had to cover your mouth so you didn't make so much noise. you didn't need to have people outside the room starting to get curious about what was going on inside. the feelings hit like a brick, a swift kick to you that left you aching. your noises, while muffled, made lewis want to fuck you harder.

you panted into your palms and arched your back. your eyes rolled back a little from the intensity. when you started to come down, lewis was still thrusting up into you. your noises were more passive as he continued to move against you.

"pretty girl." he said, "all fucked out under me." he shook his head a little, "i wonder what your team would think? having you spread out under me. no matter how many podiums you take, you'll never be me." he leaned forward, making sure every last inch was inside of you. he kissed the apple of your cheek and said, "i'll show you sometime, what a world champion trophy looks like." his voice was venomous and it bit at your lust riddled head.

"lewis."

"it's only fair." he curved your back a little more, getting at just the right angle, "it'll be the closest you ever get to one."

his harsh words made sparks in your head as you came once more. this time you sounded a little more desperate as you weren't able to cover your mouth. but that was enough for lewis, two heavy thrusts and he held onto you as he came.

you dropped your hips onto the floor and some cum ended up on the carpet. you panted wildly, not able to find words. but you could feel lewis' heated gaze.

he chuckled a little and rubbed his eyes, the feeling was intense even for him. he could feel the blood rush in his body, like when he raced. he said, "this is how i like you. all fucked out and not causing me problems on the track."

you made a small noise, your tongue unable to produce words. next time, think about running one of the greatest off the tracks. <3

[blingblong55]

Cowboy like me -Philip Graves

creds: @/vhenan_virabelesan on instagram

Based on a request:

i need more graves in my life. like southern cowboy graves who finds veteran reader one day in line for food or something and he just can’t help but talk to her until the blood rushes to his face and flushes red. need graves who never thought he would settle down or get married until he finds himself staring at rings after dating you for 8 months. philip who cherishes his fiery girl by winning stock shows and buying her a new mercedes just because. reader asking him how she can pay him back and he asks her to move in. philip who holds reader so so close to his body, never wanting to hurt her while his cock throbs into her. caressing her hair and clicking his tongue whenever she breaks eyes contact from his good he feels. philip being called away for a two month deployment all of a sudden. two months feel like two years until he can see his beloved peeing the ranch goats and chasing chickens back into their coop. philip who finally gets home and uses his rank to skip the welcome home ceremony, wanting to surprise reader at home since it’s late at night and him speeding home because they’re not going to live their lives through the phone. driving like a maniac until he feels the grind of gravel against rubber and the familiar low glow of the wooden house, until he holds onto her body like how oxygen embeds itself into his lungs. i need him so bad ---- F!Reader, fluff, some smut, boyfriend!Graves, cowboy!Graves, P-in-V, soft sex, soft!dom Graves, veteran!Reader ---- A/N: this is how I know you are a Graves lover, so please my dear..enjoy :)

You moved to the countryside, a small town and a pair of old boots. Life is calm, away from that old and rowdy one you lived as a soldier. This time around, you were told about some new small restaurant in town, decided to check it out and that's when all the stars aligned. He walks in, three days into his break from a long deployment and then, his eyes meet your frame. A small smile on him. Never did he see another woman like you in his part of town. Not as pretty or as captivating. His cowboy hat by his chest as he admired you. You, unaware, order your meal, eager to taste something new.

He walked closer, and the cashier asked for your name. "R/N," you said and he smiles. What a precious name. For days after, he returned to that small restaurant, walked around town and frequented many shops and then he stopped walking. There you were, getting what he assumed was your truck loaded with gravel and some other stuff. You were a local then. He knew the man from the shop, asked around and soon he realised you were the woman who bought a property close to his. Ain't it funny. Your herd dog ran away and into his property, what a fun time Philip would have.

"I'm sorry, he…is a bit of a runner," you chuckle as you get your dog in the truck. "No worries, hun. I'm Philip," he extends his hand and you shake it. "I'm R/N, a pleasure to meet you," you smile. "So, what is a pretty lady like you doing 'ere?" You chuckle, your hat being the perfect sunblock for this sunny day. "I own this land," you answer and he smiles more. "Ah, so that means you aren't just a pretty lady with a dog, that makes you my pretty lil neighbour," he gets closer. You couldn't deny it, he had his charm and it worked on you. "What if instead of keeping you out on this Sun, I keep you out, say Friday night at around 8 pm?" Oh that smile on him, what a dangerous game it played.

And so you accepted. You played the dangerous game with him and it turned into something so calm and beautiful. Now, instead of spending his days or weeks off work alone, he spends them with you. He got to know you, understand you and love all of you. Every day, there he was, at your front porch, wildflowers at hand from his part of the land. Every day, there you were, at the front door, ready to greet him with a kiss. It never was the fact he could buy store flowers, it was the intention, to always bring them to you, pretty or not, he took his time every day to pick them out, to think, 'She'll like them, yeah…this one is perfect,' that is the beauty of him. And, you always fell even deeper for him. That smile, the same one he saw every morning, gave him more reason to go around, plant flowers on his land and when they grow, he will cut them and hand them to you.

It's what all lovers did before him. His eyes, my my my, were they enchanting to look at. He never meant to be a husband, to come home to his pretty lady, to love. He was meant to be a soldier, a commander and to watch himself die sometime far from today, in some dangerous place. Today, he walks around, looks at rings and shakes his head anytime the lady at the jewellery place asks if he likes that ring. "No, don't think my darling would fit this, I need something more…more beautiful…something that matches her beauty, so let's keep looking." But that was a game to never be won. In his mind, no diamond would match your beauty, it just had to at least resemble your natural looks.

His friends were all teasing him for falling in love. It's not bad, they reassure, it's…new..it changed you for the better, they all admit. When he introduces you to them, they all look at each other. "Oh, it makes more sense," one says and the rest agree. You did change him, he has become someone everyone admires more, and he has more reason to do certain stuff now. You and him, it is possibly the healthiest of loves he or you had. The warm feeling in your chest, that feels right. The compliments from his mother, his father and siblings, all feel too well. And you know that maybe you are right, maybe this is love. It's love in the beautiful, the ugly, the immature things you two laugh at, the stare his friends give when they know he find his forever person. It is real…it's love for what humans know love to be.

"My dear, c'mon, calm down," his voice soft, hands on your body as you argue over something that happened at a store. "Babe, you don't get it. That man…ooh that man do I dislike him!" He chuckles, "You know what the deal was and what he said was right-" "No, no it wasn't and you know what, shame on you for backing him up." You push him. "No, don't do that, we don't do that. If I fuck up, you correct me and I do the same for you, we fix each other that way." You huff out and cross your arms. He was right, you did that and now he had to do the same. Anytime he said or did something that wasn't right, you corrected him and he listened and apologised and did better next time. Now, here you were, having to be in his situation. "Sorry…it's just…why…why would that man do that- you're right..sorry"

"It's over, let's move on," his arms wrap around you and you sigh. "I love you," he reminds you and you smile. Your arms now wrapping around him. "I love you too," you whisper and get comfortable in his arms. Slowly, this became the norm, talk it out, don't yell but talk, it's simple and it's what keeps it all comfortable.

Christmas, ten months into loving you, he buys and gifts you a car. Lavish and all for you. For what reason? No motive, he just felt the need to give it. You, being someone who can't just accept these nice acts, shove the keys back to him. "Nope, nope…Phil, you can't just give me this." He shakes his head, "I can and it's rude to deny a gift, my love," he walks to you, the smile on him again. Was he a wizard? To have you so enchanted by his smile? "But-…how can I repay this? This is too much, Phil-" A kiss, is all it took to have you calm down and let him love you more. "Move in, that's all I ask of you." He says between kisses and you smile. Of course, now that is the man you know. A mastermind for a fiance? Now that is something to have yourself get accustomed to.

By Spring, he and you married.

By Summer, he had your back arched, your body and his pressed against each other as he repeatedly made love to you. His cock, deep inside of you as your milked him for every last drop. Your hands, wrapped around his back, owning him and marking him with scratches, ones he would proudly wear. His hands caress your body as if you were some angelic creature. Your eyes close once your body starts to feel euphoric, its pleasure to the greatest it can be. Philip's kisses trail from your lips to your collarbone. Your tits bounce with each thrust he gave you, your eyes closed and then he grabs your face with force. "Don't you dare look away, my love, not now," he grunts and moans.

His fat cock stretches your tight cunt to its limit. You let our whimpers, your orgasm building up slowly. "That's it, be a good girl-" he grips your face again. "Tsk, what i say?" He kisses you and once he is done with your lips, he ensures your gaze never leaves his. Your drunken stare is the one thing that is making him last so long. Your juices leak all over him, his cum deep inside of you, making sure to leave you leaking. It was his way of saying goodbye as he went on yet another operation. Your cunt, throbbing for the abuse and love your dear husband gave you over and over. It was perfection, it is love that he makes to you on a night like this.

Your teary eyes, make him frown and apologise. "I'm sorry, I know…I know darling." he cups your face with his warm hands and kisses you all over that precious pouty face. Your tears dried by his lips. Love is an action or emotion. Right now, in this bed made up of two drunken lovers, he made sure to teach you that he was not like any of the past men you loved. He was sure of it because no other man-made you cum with a stare, a touch, or a lick of your precious and delicious cunt. He isn't most men, he is your man, your other half, the one that has you whimpering over his size. The one that has you lighting candles for when he comes back home.

After that night, he was gone for some time. Not much contact besides the small talk on texts or the quick calls from the base. It was an eternity, to not have him by your side, to not watch you fall over as you tried to feed the animals on the ranch. It was a long night when you didn't have him wrap his arms around you and whisper sweet nothings. But it was the rule, wait and I'll be back to love you more. You were his patient lover, like a woman back in the day, waiting all day for her man. And the second came with the view of the joint estates, he smiles. His pretty darling, his home and all those crazy animals, all waiting for him.

His mates at the base, all begged him to wait just a little longer but he couldn't not when he yearned to be in your arms. He didn't care, it didn't matter if they all wanted a sit-down cookout to celebrate a triumph of an operation. You mattered. You see, the thought of you, laying in bed, with an empty side, his pillow used as a teddy bear as you await for him, that was an image he couldn't let happen anymore. His truck, rushed through the night all to get a glimpse, a touch, a whisper and an 'I love you' from you.

The door, swung open as he hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom. The floor creaks under his step as he silents himself from excitement when he sees your precious face. It was a rush, it's love and glee to know he came home, came home to you. "R/N, doll..I'm home," he whispers as he gently stirs you awake. That smile of yours, oh it can melt a man as mean and cold as him. "Hi," your voice is so soft and small. "Hi," he responds and sits on the edge, watching as you crawl into his arms. "Did you miss me?" but of course, he knew that answer. You nod and bury your face on his chest. What was once an empty bed, is now a bed full of two. Two crazed people, two hearts, one home. "Oh I missed you more," he rubs your back and notices how your body relaxes. He holds you close, so close that it's as if he wants your body to become one.

His boots are under the bed as he settles in with you. Your warmth wrapped him in an embrace. This, this is all he ever needed. It wasn't some drunk one-night stand, it wasn't cheap love or cheap sex. No one could afford this. Don't think he even understood how much he had to afford this kind of love but he can and that is all that matters now.

A/N: I love cowboys....and I love cowboy Graves

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[barcaatthemoon]

Can I please get an Emily Engstler blurb with the prompt "A little bird told me you're a really good kisser." please?

chirp || emily engstler x reader ||

your welcome to the league came early. while your former syracuse teammate was drafted to the fever, you went to the mercury. there, your veteran teammates were sure to get you ready for every aspect of the game that they could. their favorite just happened to be trash talking you during practice. anybody should have been able to say anything to you without phasing you, but emily wasn't just anybody.

you had admittedly been so deep in the closet that you thought it was just another room in college. it seemed that everybody except for you had seen the revelation of your homosexuality coming. and so, maybe emily had felt a bit slighted when she saw you run around with your now ex on social media just before you started playing in your first season.

she hadn't said anything too personal, but emily's words bounced around your head all game long. "i guess that dani was wrong." it was so smug, and you knew exactly what emily was on about when she had said it. the first little seedling of doubt in your straightness had come when you kissed one of the volleyball players at a frat party to help her get a boy's attention. you were still friends with that girl, and she had jokingly said that you were the best kisser she knew.

"what the hell was that game?" emily asked you. it wasn't syracuse by any means, but she always knew where to find you. tough games were a part of everybody's career, and you always put in some extra practice after yours. "i know you play better than that."

"shut up em" you told her. emily didn't listen as she took your ball from you and held it in her arms. "what do you want?"

"you know what i want, what i've wanted since we met on the campus tour. come on, you know you like girls now. besides, a little bird told me that you're a great kisser, and i'm curious." emily's words were teasing, but you knew that she wasn't just joking around with you. emily wanted to kiss you, she had been trying to get with you since you met on your first campus tour.

"what makes you think that you're my type?" you asked. emily scoffed at that, rolling her eyes. she had seen the girl you dated, a former player whose career was cut short. the girl had a story that had melted your heart, and she also just happened to look a lot like emily. you couldn't deny the blonde hair, soft eyes, and tattoos drew you in just like the rasp in her voice kept you in a metaphorical chokehold.

"fine, be like that. i'll see you in indiana in a couple weeks then." you sighed as emily passed your ball back to you. she was nearly halfway across the court when you dropped everything and sprinted towards her. you crashed into emily's back, but not hard enough to knock her over.

"fuck it, you've waited long enough," you said softly. emily looked like she couldn't believe you were really going to kiss her until the moment your lips were on hers. you clung to emily tightly, like you were afraid that you'd float away otherwise. her lips were so soft that you might as well have jumped into the clouds. emily was gentle with you in a way that you hadn't expected. "fly back safe, and find somewhere good to take me when i'm in your city. i don't mean fancy em, i want a good time. you don't have to impress me."

"anything and everything you want," emily said with a dreamy look in her eyes. you gave her one more quick kiss before you turned back to your practice. emily stayed to watch you for a couple more hours before she absolutely had to get back to pack her things up at the hotel.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Run Free

art by me!

Price, Gaz, and Ghost visits the MacTavish Estate baring the news.

Word Count: 2.1k words Warning: Major character death, angst and comfort. Note : I wrote this fic a few days after I finished the campaign. I've always thought it weird why the 141 boys had Soap's ashes when I've always seen Soap as someone with a family and a had good relationship with them, especially since it's canon that Soap's cousin brought him to the SAS base several times as a kid. Here's my interpretation of that fact, on how Soap's urn ended up with the boys.

Price, Gaz, and Ghost wore their dress uniforms from head to toe, finding themselves in front of the MacTavish Estate in Glasgow. It was… big, to say the least. Soap’s family was known not only because a number of people from the family are serving in the British Royal Armed Forces, but also the fact that they are 7th generation furniture company - MacTavish Furnitures. Lots of members of the family are veterans turned businessmen, carpenters, or woodworkers. It is a common cycle of life for them.

As Ghost and Gaz stood, Price climbed the stairs and wore his beige beret, breathing deeply through his nose before letting the air out to prepare himself, lifting his hand to knock on the wooden door. The captain heard faint noises of multiple footsteps from multiple people and some voices of heavy Scottish accent from inside the house. He waited for a moment, until the door finally opened, but he found no one in front of him. 

“Who are ya?”

A little voice spoke from under him, prompting Price to look down. He found a little girl with blonde hair no taller than his knees. She’s absolutely drenched from head to toe in a blue swimming attire and had to bend her neck so high to see him. He bent down to his knees to match her height, before saying,

“Hello. I’m… My name is John.” 

“John? Like Uncle Johnny?” Her little voice said, face gleaming with happiness at the name.

“Yes. Like Uncle Johnny.” Price smiled, chuckling lightly. The girl grinned at his smiling face. “May I see your dad? Or mum?”

“Phoebe MacTavish! Get your wee feet here before I pick your legs off of that floo–! Oh, Hello there.” A new voice came from in front of him, revealing herself to be an old woman with dark brown hair, though with white strands and the same quizzical brow that reminded Price of Soap. She looked strong, nonetheless, wearing a green shirt and knitted vest with a towel hanging from one of her shoulders, obviously to dry the little girl after a session of swimming in their estate’s pool. 

Price stood back up, greeting the lady. “Mrs. MacTavish.” 

The old woman looked at his attire up and down, and Price swore that he saw the gears rotating inside her mind. She looked down at the girl and gave her the white towel, “Phoebe. Go inside and dry yourself. Find your Da, Aunt Rachel, and Uncle Hugh, too. Tell them to meet me at the front door, yeah?” The little girl nodded and ran inside, disappearing into the house as Price heard a faint yelling from the same child, calling for the stated family members. 

Now, the lady in front of him walked closer to the doorway, face to face with him. She’s undoubtedly no taller than 5’7”, a height that might have been receding as time went by, but you could spot a proud MacTavish wherever you see one. Price offered his hand for a handshake as she accepted. “Captain John Price from the 22 SAS Regiment.” 

“Joan MacTavish.” She replied. Price noticed the name as the name on Soap’s file as his guardian, with the relation being marked with ‘Aunt’. “What brings you here, Captain?” Her face looked neutral like it wasn’t the first time a soldier with a full dress uniform knocked on this wooden door. 

Just before Price could say what he wanted to say, a deep voice called to her. “Mum?” One woman and two men with a frame similar to him showed up from inside the house. One man was around Ghost’s age, one was around his age, while the woman in a bun looked older than him, though looking very vibrant and professional. All of them had the same thick eyebrows – Family traits, he supposed – and clearly looked like honourable but firm Scottish people. Upon seeing Price, though, their faces changed from confusion to realization. 

Price remembered that Soap was not the first MacTavish in the SAS. In fact, there was another member of the family, Oliver MacTavish, who died in the line of duty a decade ago. Price remembered the way Soap had told the story of Ollie, his cousin, bringing his little arse to the SAS base  - however unpermitted it was – and how Price had busted Soap multiple times for applying with a fake age. 

“Rachel MacTavish.” The eldest one spoke.

“Hugh MacTavish.” The elder man said, followed by the younger.

“Scott MacTavish. That was my daughter, Phobe.” They all shook hands with Price. 

He repeated his greeting, before Rachel started,

“I've seen the likes of you before. I recognize that beret even from a mile away." She said firmly. "Out with it."

The captain's breath hitched as he cleared his throat, preparing himself to deliver the news. And so, he began.

"On November 21st, our target had placed an active bomb inside the underwater tunnel that connects the UK and France. During our attempt to defuse the bomb, the target sneaked from behind our line of sight…"

The whole family's face changed, Joan's eyes looked glassy with tears seeming like she knew of the incoming words.

"And I regret to inform you… that Sergeant John MacTavish has died in the line of duty."

Ghost, without his mask and black face paint around his eyes, and Gaz with their dress uniforms and beret could only stand from the base of the stairs, watching and hearing as Joan's cry of anguish tear through the morning sky. 

"Oh Lord. Johnny. Johnny. My baby, Johnny." Joan repeated his name like a chanting to the sky. "Why must You take him so soon? Why must he join Ollie so soon?"

The whole family hugged their mother as she wailed, her knees looked like it was giving up. Gaz gritted his teeth to strengthen himself, not wanting to break down to cry himself. 

As the family cried, Price could only stand still, letting the news sink in for the family. His job as the leader of the team was done, at that point. He delivered the news to his family. 

"The bomb…Did he defuse it?" Hugh questioned in the middle of his sobs. 

"He–" Price swallowed, remembering the way Makarov had killed him. "We were both defusing the bomb, John guiding me along the way as he was the demolition expert."

"He protected me, Sir. Our target was about to shoot me, before John stopped him - and got killed instead. The target ran away, but me and Sergeant Garrick managed to defuse the bomb thanks to his prior guidance, saving thousands of lives underneath the 30-mile underwater tunnel." Price answered as Rachel looked up at his face, anger and denial filling her in an instant. 

She raised her hand in such a way that Price knew that she was about to slap him. Price still opened his eyes, fully welcoming the slap before her hand stopped. 

Rachel bit her lips so hard that it might bleed, lowering her arm.

"...Why does it have to be Johnny? Why do you get to live and he doesn't?" She barely whispered in a shaky voice, going back to wiping her face again. “Why Johnny…?”

And Price asked that question every single hour ever since his death. 

Why Soap, and not him?

—

The MacTavishes requested for Soap's body to be sent to Scotland, where they held a memorial at the MacTavish estate to which they promptly honoured. The number of family members participating was not that many, considering only the immediate family attended. Price, Soap, and Ghost joined them, and even escorted the family as they travelled to the crematorium.

After the whole procession finished – that took the entire day – the family finally had possession of the urn containing Soap's ashes, and they invited the three back to the estate, where they now sit inside the guest room and tea in front of them with Joan and Rachel, his urn placed on a table beside Joan.

That was the day they learned that Soap was actually the son of Joan's late husband's younger sister. Soap's mother – her sister-in-law, died when she birthed Soap, while Soap's father died during an accident in a factory before his own birth. 

Soap had been raised by his uncle's family since his infancy, growing up in the MacTavish house as a strong and firm Scott under the wing of the eldest brother, Oliver. 

"He's always wanted to be like Ollie, that wee kid," Rachel told them after holding a photo album containing photos of Soap when he was a baby in his late uncle's arms, a photo of him and his older cousins playing with mud, photos of his graduations from school, and photos of him passing the test to be a part of SAS along with his cousin, Oliver. "Said he didn't want to go to school. Just visit the army base every day. It's what he dreamed of."

Ghost, still in his dress uniform, felt the most vulnerable in that room - Without his mask, in front of Johnny's family. He also had been in agony for the past day, because he'd failed to cover Johnny's back. He had one job at that time, and he failed, catastrophically. He only sat there with his hands joined in his lap, not daring to look at the family in the eyes. 

"We're very thankful for John's service with us. He was the best there is." Gaz spoke, "John's memory will live with us."

"Thank you, Sergeant Garrick." Joan smiled as she looked up. "I heard you share the same quarters with him in the barracks. I hope he wasn't too much of a naughty boy."

The sergeant chuckled lightly at that, "Well. Soap wasn't someone who could stay away from mischief too long, but I assure you that he's an absolute joy and inspiration to be around." Hearing Joan's laughter cured a little part in Gaz, as the only thing he'd heard from her was the sound of her cry. He could at least pride himself in knowing that he could share Soap's merry nature.

As they share memories, Price finished his tea before he stood up from the sofa, followed by the other two. "Well. We must take our leave, Ma'am. Thank you for the tea."

"Anytime." Joan spoke as the soldiers started to leave the sofa, heading towards the main room and front door. 

"Which one of ya’s is ‘LT’?"

Rachel’s voice stopped the men in their tracks, particularly Ghost’s. All three men turned around, finding the woman holding Soap’s urn in her hands. Price saw how Ghost's face turned to that of a deer in a spotlight, so he put his hand behind Ghost’s back to lightly push him towards Rachel, but Ghost’s hesitancy was apparent in the way he slowly walked. 

“...That would be me, Ma’am.” Ghost’s deep voice rumbled softly as he looked down to Rachel’s height. The lady herself observed him up and down with a negative face that she could convince him that he was standing there naked. 

“Yer tryin’ so hard to make yourself look small for such a big man. It’s almost dreading.” She started, her hips shifting. “I’ve been the CEO of MacTavish Furnitures since my da’ passed away and Ollie decided to go to the army, and I read people like a book. For someone whom Johnny admired the most – and repeatedly spoke about – you don’t look like the LT I heard from him.” Ghost was starstruck at the statement. Soap, talking about him to his family? “I expected you to be cocky and exude pride in your steps, but all I’m seein’ is just a pathetic, sad bloke.” 

Ghost stood still at those comments. No one practically had ever roasted him this badly in front of his teammates. He wondered if he showed up in his other attire, she’d dare to say all this. But then again, if someone got to do it, he was glad that it came from an honourable woman of the MacTavish bloodline. 

What caught him off guard was her hands stretching towards him, holding Soap’s urn in front of his chest. Ghost looked down at the metal container, looking confused as he looked up again to face Rachel. He thought the MacTavishes were going to hold on to Soap’s urn, and they get to keep Soap’s dog tags. However, clearly, the current head of the family had other wishes.

“Take Johnny with ya. Being trapped inside this urn for eternity in this old house would be the last thing he wanted.” The woman started with a shaky voice, her eyes starting to brim with tears again. Seeing Soap’s character, Ghost could understand that completely. 

“He’s… the proudest he could ever be when he’s with ya’s." Rachel continued. 

"So I ask you, as our brother’s comrades, to hold on to Johnny – and free him.” 

Ghost’s eyes opened wide in surprise, still couldn’t fathom how fondly Soap must've talked about his teammates, especially him, to his family that they’d give him his ashes. Ghost lifted his hands to carefully receive the urn. 

After breathing deeply, Ghost stood straight, holding Soap firmly. 

“We will, Ma’am.”

—

The three of them walked towards the car parked just outside the MacTavish estate with Ghost holding Soap’s urn in his hands. They all took off their berets and entered the car, Price the designated driver, Gaz riding shotgun, while Ghost sat in the backseat. 

“So what do we do with him, Sir?” Gaz rotated his body to look at Soap’s urn on Ghost’s hands, same as Price.

Ghost contemplated in his mind, staring at the metal urn, before speaking, “Where’s Johnny’s place of birth?” 

Price answered immediately as he’s the one who took care of Soap’s documents. “Isle of Skye.” 

“Soap said there’s a beautiful cliff where he and his cousins used to go to play. Endless sea where the eyes could see.” Gaz added.

“Then that’s where we’re goin’.” Ghost spoke with finality. “And then we’ll let Johnny go.”

Price and Gaz nodded to each other. "Alright, Soap. Let's get you home." The captain started the car and stepped on the gas, beginning their journey towards the Isle of Skye.

---

I'm not okay. Thank you for reading! (T_T) reblogs and comments of your thoughts are much appreciated!

[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 4 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Reader and Tobin spend some more time with the team.

Part 4

As soon as the hotel room door closes Y/N wraps her arms around her sister and buries her head into her chest. 

“It’s ok Kid. It’s going to be ok.” 

“They were really loud.”

“I know.”

“Can we finish our nap now? Please.” Y/N's voice strained as she tried to keep herself from crying. 

“Ya kid we can. I’m sorry today has been so overwhelming for you.” Y/N just shook her head and curled up next to Tobin on the bed. 

It wasn’t too long after that Y/N was asleep again. Tobin, however, couldn’t fall back asleep. The only thing running through her mind was how she was going to get through the next two weeks without someone finding out about their pasts.

It was another hour later that Y/N started to stir. Calling out to her sister in the midst of a nightmare. “Toby… Toby. Make them stop. Please, make them stop. Toby…”

“It’s ok it’s ok. No one here is going to hurt you. You aren’t there anymore, I’ve got you.” Tobin pulled her sister into her lap and rested her head against her chest stroking her hair in hopes to calm her down. Tobin started rocking her when tears started streaking down her face. 

It took another few minutes for Y/N to open her eyes and willingly curl in further to her sister. 

“You want to talk about it?”

“No, how long till dinner?”

“About half an hour, we should start getting ready soon.”

Y/N nods against her sister, “A few more minutes?”

Tobin sits up and gathers her sister in her arms, “Whatever you want Y/N. Whatever you want.”

The sisters spend another 10 minutes snuggled into each other. Tobin sighs, “Come on kid, let's get ready for dinner. We don’t want to be late. Remember what they said earlier, you get all the good stuff if you get there first.”  

The sisters make their way out of bed and spend the next few minutes cleaning themselves up. 

“Do you think they’re going to yell again?” Y/N asks. 

“I don’t think so. They should have settled down at this point.” Y/N nods. They head down to the meal room. There are already a few members of the staff there when they arrive, but none of the team members. 

“I knew I made the right decision bringing you into the squad.” Jill commented following the sisters into the meal room. They gave her a confused look. Jill chuckled, “You are going to be the only one of the girls here on time, which confuses me to no end seeing as they all love food.” 

Jill continues to walk into the room and joins more of the training staff at their table. Tobin and Y/N make their way to one of the open tables and wait for the rest of the team and dinner to be served. The next one of the girls came in 5 minutes after dinner was supposed to start. It took another 10 minutes for the entire team to show up. As soon as the last two showed up, Kelley and Sonny, dinner was brought out. 

They ended up sitting with a couple of the more veteran players Krieger, Kilng, Becky, Abby, A rod, and Cheney. 

“Ah come on, I wanted to sit with the newbie.” Kelley complained as she finally made her way into the room. 

“Well then you should have been on time. Now sit down so we can eat.” Her captain told her. She grumbled her way to her own seat. 

“Have you gotten settled?” Kling asks them.

“Oh, uh ya. The rooms really nice. Had a great nap.” Tobin replies. 

“How about you Y/N? How are you settling in? You figured out your luggage situation yet?” 

“What luggage situation?” Becky asked. 

“Oh, the airport lost Y/N’s bag and sent it to florida. It wouldn’t arrive here in time before we went back so we just had them send it back home.”

“So Y/N doesn’t have any clothes?” 

“She’s got her soccer gear and she can just wear some of my stuff. It’s only a couple of weeks. So I guess you can say that we’ve got it all sorted.” 

“Two weeks is a long time to not have any clothes. We’ll have some time tomorrow after morning practice to go to the store. We can take the rental car coach won’t mind.” 

“No, that's ok.” Y/N just sits picking at her dinner as the older girls around her talk. The other girls at the table could tell that that conversation was over, and wanted to change topics quickly. 

“So Y/N your sister said you're a forward right?” Y/N nods. “What soccer player do you look up to the most?” A Rod questions.

“Toby. Who else?” 

“Ok I should have seen that one coming. Then who is your second favorite?”

“Toby.” 

“But you said she was your first favorite?” Cheney buts in. 

“No Tobin is the player I look up to the most, and my second favorite player.” Tobin chuckled at the serious tone her sister took on. 

“Ok so who’s your favorite player?” A Rod tries again. 

“I… don’t think I can say.”

“Why not?” Y/N doesn’t respond. “Are they someone on the team?” She blushes and looks down, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Holy shit it is. Now you have to tell us.” Abby demands. Y/N blushes even harder and shakes her head. “We won’t tell them. Unless it’s someone at this table.”

PART 5

[qqueenofhades]

AAAAHHHHHHHH It's TIM! 1000% strong MN girl here and boy it's been real fun to watch Tim (and Peggy! Our amazing lieutenant governor) take a small small Democratic majority and do incredible things. My kid ate two meals at school every day for free. DELIGHTED that he's the VP pick. LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!

Listen, I am just ECSTATIC. Ever since I seriously became tuned into the veepstakes, he was my number one pick (I mean, I was not immune to the brief flirtation everyone had with Beshear/Buttigieg/etc), but yes. Walz was my top pick and I was trying desperately not to get my heart too set on him in case it fell through, but he was the obvious best choice of the contenders by a country mile. He has an almost absurdly Midwestern pro-America background (military veteran, public school teacher, football coach from a small rural town, etc) AND he has managed to enact a long list of progressive policies in Minnesota with a very narrow majority in the state legislature. Also, you're going to be seeing a lot of this video, for good reason:

Also.... let's be real, Shapiro would have been an incredible distraction/drag on the ticket, unfortunately. We don't need to deal with his retrograde views on Gaza and his other baggage, and while he is a very popular governor in Pennsylvania, it's less certain that his appeal would translate to other states. We can argue (or you know, let's not and move on) about whether or not that was fair, but this is just not the year to try to win the most critical high-stakes election ever by pissing off young voters. Shapiro has done plenty of good things and has time to develop his career further, but he would have been a BAD pick for 2024 and I was alarmed at how many Respected Pundits (tm) were pulling for him. Reuters even claimed that picking him would "defang Republican attempts to make Israel-Gaza a wedge issue for Democrats," which is such a mind-bogglingly stupid statement that it makes you wonder how anyone writing it actually got paid for their political insight, but it also explains a lot about mainstream media these days. Picking Shapiro would have been an absolute gift to the Republicans and bad-faith actors and others (plus like, I don't want to have to spend time winning back the young voters who are actually once more engaged in the process!) and would have led to the media eagerly jumping into the feeding frenzy (because they're desperate to have a reason not to cover Trump's increasingly crazy-ass shit) and other Democratic-on-Democratic infighting. And it goes without saying that WE CANNOT AFFORD THAT.

As well, picking Shapiro just because you need to win PA this election cycle is yet another example of why the Electoral College sucks, and the polling averages in PA have been moving solidly blue anyway. You can just park Shapiro there and have him campaign in the state as the sitting popular governor, rather than expose him to the liability of a nationwide campaign where, as noted, all the other stuff would be a drag. If it's true that the establishment was pushing Harris to pick Shapiro and she picked Walz instead, a) GOOD! and b) if anything, this election cycle needs to fucking teach us that we have got to stop going with the Conventional Wisdom Tee Em. Walz was already out there, he was already popular with the public/energizing the grassroots, AND he was the guy who coined the "Weird" attack line that is actually effective and organically popular against the Republicans and drives them batshit. So for Kamala to lean into that and take him as her running mate is... zomgz... smart, and I am not used to the Democrats playing smart and aggressive and not just passive-defensive. I don't understand. Wow.

Anyway, now watch the New York Times (and the others, lbr, but especially the NYT) desperately try to dig up scandalous stories about that time Walz didn't stop at the 4H booth at the county fair, or walked past someone without saying "Ope just gonna sneak by ya first" or some other terrible Midwestern sin, but fuck those guys. I am EXCITED I am ENERGIZED I am THRILLED. This is a GREAT new ticket that came together at incredibly short notice and completely changed the dynamics everywhere, Walz is gonna make JD Vance cry (unsure whether I want to see Harris demolish Trumpster or Midwestern Dad to turn the cranks on Weird Couchfucking Fascist Skidmark more, but both, both, both is good). LET'S GO GET THOSE WEIRD MOTHERFUCKERS, Y'ALL!!

HARRIS/WALZ 2024!

[narwal-ed-in]

ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

[warpcorp]

If fear and hunger guys had tumblr:

💰 veteran-funger Follow

Hey! Did you know the dungeons of Fear and Hunger have treasure in them! For the low price of 50 gold, I'll sell you a treasure map. Dm me on discord thanks.

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus I'll be back in a few weeks! Love you!

🍇 celeste-on-hiatus Follow

What.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I fucking hate le'garde. He keeps on having holy crusades for "Alll-mer" or something. MY WIFE AND CHILD DIED. I hate him so much. I want him dead. Sorry for the vent. It's been a tough week. I am going to track him down and kill him with my bare hands.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde isn't that bad. Calm down, the crusades had a purpose. Stop being parasocial about a guy you don't even know? Sorry about your wife but you gotta get over it. You're a full grown man.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I added "Le'garde apologists" to my DNI, leave me alone freak. Go and kiss Le'garde's ass somewhere else.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

I will! You know, they say Le'garde is in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger?! Yeah. I'm going there. Fuck you. I'll save his ass and send you pics of us together.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey guys I'll be at the dungeons of fear and hunger for a bit.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey do you guys like my dog?

💀 old-night Follow

That ain't a dog. It has twice the amount of eyes??

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Her name is moonless <3

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus how do we feel about another kid?

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

On the way to save my cutesy bf! Wish me luck!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Found some people in a cave.. gonna talk to them. Maybe they'd like to hear about alll-mer. I don't think they've left this cave before :)!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Um.. they did not like alll-mer. In other words, a blue haired guy and a small girl saved me! Wish us luck. And yes guys, i do love legarde. Idk what "comphet" is? Sorry. Is that an old god? I read about that in a book.

🌚 rher Follow

Comphet is an old god, yeah. He's the old god of denial.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Oh thanks!

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Today I almost died as a sacrifice. Though, I stopped it because I had a vision. Apparently something inside the dungeons of Fear and Hunger is waiting for me. I'll update my blog as I continue on.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

I hear screaming. Dogs barking and a man crying. I'm reading.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Something broke through the wall. I'm reading. Lots of information to bring back.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Can't get fucking quiet in this dungeon. Gonna have to leave this library and find a new one. People are so inconsiderate sometimes.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day one dungeons of fear and hunger. They gave me rotten flesh as food. Not befitting for a man such as I.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day two, dungeons of fear and hunger. They chained me up and this rather large man has been watching me. Help?

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I hear footsteps. Maybe someone's coming to save me!

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I think the guard died.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I lived bitch.

🗡 cumhara Follow

Well I left the dungeons. No treasure but I got a kid I guess.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Still reading.

🔮 nosramus-blogs Follow

Still reading.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

How to do necromancy

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why doesn't he love me

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

What is a "lesbian"

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why do i like when i see girls kissing

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde is dead.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Leaving dungeons now. I didn't save le'garde but i found out i was a lesbian.

[batmanschmatman]

Book Rec: Coming Out Under Fire, by Allan Bérubé

Occasionally I see some discourse on Tumblr from folks in the HBO War fandom or different historical/history adjacent fandoms about how there weren’t that many members of the queer community involved in WWII, and I’d really like to point them and everyone else with an interest in queer history to this wonderful book. Originally published in 1990, Coming Out Under Fire gets into all the different ways queer folks DID participate in the war. It’s from an American perspective, so if you’re looking for other Allied experiences, unfortunately there won’t be much here for you, but it’s exceptionally well researched, and crucially a lot of the content comes from interviews with surviving servicemembers. There’s also a documentary based on the book, which came out a few years later and includes video interviews with some of the folks included in the text.

One of Bérubé’s main points in his introduction – and for writing the book in the first place – is the American government, history textbooks, Hollywood, etc. is able to paint the WWII-era military as an almost entirely straight military force because many queer people who participated in the war effort were silenced during their lifetimes, and were unable or unwilling to reveal their true identities. Some of this was from societal pressure – the post war period saw a huge surge in homophobic rhetoric and persecution in the name of fighting Communism, not to mention the ever present heteronormative pressure to get married and have kids – but also because so many queer veterans died during the AIDS epidemic. Bérubé was inspired to preserve the voices of those who were still with us and shed a light on some of the folks we lost. (Note that this was also an intensely personal issue for Bérubé, who lost friends and his partner to AIDS and thus saw first hand how devastating this was to the community in terms of robbing us of our loved ones, friends, elders, and history itself.)

In the book, Bérubé makes the point over and over again that queer people were involved at basically every level in the American military during the war. There’s stories about guys lying when asked “Do you like girls?” during enlistment, lesbians in the Women’s Army Corps being brought to trial for fraternizing, drag shows in POW camps and in reserve, front line combat veterans discussing losing romantic partners to enemy fire or coming out to foxhole buddies, who were supportive allies rather than hateful. One of my favorite stories that’s always stuck out to me is a guy who came home and decided to come out to his elderly mother, who was fully accepting and supportive of her son’s sexuality. I see so many people speaking in absolutes that there’s NO WAY you could come out to your family and be accepted in the past, and while that was certainly true for so many people, it’s also not an absolute truth.

Please note I am NOT giving blanket permission to make assumptions about real-life people’s sexualities or identities, nor am I saying Band of Brothers fics where half the company is dating each other are historically accurate, but it’s really sad to see folks on here (unknowingly, hopefully) perpetuating the myth that there really weren’t that many queer folks in the military during WWII. We were there, we just couldn’t be out the way we might have liked to be. After the war, the Red Scare, societal pressure, and a literal epidemic silenced countless members of the community about their time in the service. There’s no way to know how many people who fought on Guadalcanal or worked at stateside bases or sorted mail in France were queer, but it’s a lot more than you were led to believe.

As a member of the community and a historian (brief resume: MA in Public History, BA in American History, have published stuff and created exhibits for dozens of museums), I just want to remind folks that we have always been here, and our lives weren’t always miserable and tragic when we came out to people or decided to live as authentically as we could get away with. It’s not completely historically inaccurate to write fic or original fiction where your queer characters can come out to their families and not be shunned, or live with their partners and not be immediately murdered. Being queer wasn’t invented at Stonewall.

[thewritingofspencerrose]

criminology anon again. It is such a cool major and I get to learn a lot of cool things. Currently have an internship with an investigative team of detectives so pretty hyped about that. If you still need ideas, you would write about maybe the reader coming back from working on a case and it didn’t end the way she wanted it to so Jack takes care of her?

Loved your response to my last ask I ate that up !

Ah, so glad you enjoyed! And congrats on your internship, that's so amazing! I personally had the most draining day in uni so writing some Jack comfort was absolutely what I needed. That's also why it's definitely longggg, and it has some Luke in it too (platonic). Enjoy <3

(to make this blurb mild for all, i did not go into any details on the mentioned case)

Jack Hughes x Criminology!OC, Luke Hughes x OC

It had been a day.

Scratch that, it had been a week.

A week of being in another state, a week of meetings, a week of assisting on the investigation.

All for it to end like that. God it has been tearing at my insides since we walked out of that precinct.

Kev tried to help. She's been at this for a years, but talking to her on the plane made it clear that even for a veteran like herself this case was hard.

All I have been able to think about is coming home. And now I'm stuck outside the door, unable to take out my key and even unlock it. I don't want to bring this inside, home is my safe place and after everything I just can't help the feeling of unsettled energy sitting on my chest.

"Crim, you're back!" Luke's voice is what shakes me from my own head space, the nickname he gave me when he first found out my major making the slightest smile come to my face. I'm still tense, but I can't help but turn to face the kid as he takes long strides down the hall, his arms wrapping around me as both our bags fall to the floor. "We missed you around here."

"I miss you too, Kid," I whisper, tears already threatening to spill.

"What are you two doing in the hallway?" Jack's voice interrupts our hug, and I guess I missed the door opening because he's standing there, dazzling sleepily in grey sweatpants and the shirt of my alma mater on his body, having gotten it my freshman year. As if sensing my question, he smiles softly. "I heard both your bags hit the floor. You two are loud."

"You are so not one to talk," Luke groans, grabbing both of our bags and shoving past his brother with no real fire. Poor boy.

I'm still in the hallway. He's standing inside the doorway. And it's now that our eyes fully meet, his shoulders falling.

"It didn't go well," It's not a question, he knows simply from how I'm standing what the answer is. "Come here baby," He coos, taking my hand and pulling me into the apartment, closing the door as we move towards our room.

The lights are low, only the Christmas lights I strung up around the edge of the room during the holidays being left on as he coaxes me to sit on our bed. He doesn't say anything, ask any questions, just moves around the room in silence as he goes to his dresser, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and one of my favorite hoodies, his favorite hoodie, from his drawer and bringing them over.

"Here baby, how about you put these on and I'll go grab the ice cream and we'll see where we left off with New Girl, yeah?"

"Thank you," I thank, him kissing the top of my head with a smile before walking back to the door.

"You don't have to thank me for doing exactly what you do for me after tough games," His voice vibrates back into the room.

And it's with slow hands that I peel off my business casual and pull on his sweats, pulling my hair from where it was sitting on the top of my head.

Two knocks later, I'm already leaning against the headboard of the bed, quilt pulled up high against my chest.

"J, you don't have to knock to come in our room," I can't help but chuckle, although it's Luke's curly head that pops in first, his hands holding 3 soda's as Jack trails in, a bowl of popcorn and a bowl of chocolate strawberries in hand.

"Someone felt left out and wanted to join us," Jack explains, curling into my side as Luke throws his lanky body at the foot of our bed. Jack's lips meet the side of my head again, wrapping his arm around me. "He noticed how upset you were earlier and wanted to be sure you were okay," Is the explanation he whispers in my ear, my heart warming.

"Thank you for all of this," I whisper, Luke too distracted by the remote to notice our conversation.

"I'm just glad you're home, I missed you," He responds, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"I miss you too, babe."

"Hey, I'm here too," Luke grumbles, having rolled onto his other side and looking pouty. "Did anyone miss me?"

"No."

"Always Kid, always."

[azure-firecracker]

The X-Files Season 1 Review (First-Time Watcher)

(Any fans-please come talk to me about the show and send me asks-I’m obsessed!)

It did not take long for me to realize that this was going to become my newest hyperfixation show. It has everything I love in my shows-a strong focus on its main characters, campy sci-fi monsters mixed with some genuine creepiness, slow burn romance, banter. In short, it’s the perfect show for me. I was basically hooked right away.

Like all first seasons, it was pretty clear that the show was still finding its footing. There were some clunky bits to iron out and the show definitely found its vibe more and more as it went along. I would say it began getting overall more consistent around episode 10 (with individual exceptions before and after that).

In terms of episodes, I enjoyed almost all the episodes of this season even though I would only call a couple stellar. Most episodes were fun or at least had fun moments, and the banter between Mulder and Scully (what’s their ship name?) is enough to keep me going through even the clunkiest and cringiest plots.

Speaking of Mulder and Scully, it’s rare that a show can make me love two characters so equally but I really do. Although Scully is much more in line with my usual favorite characters (she is my special girl and I will do anything for her), I also have a special place in my heart for Mulder’s neurodivergent traumatized puppy energy. Of course they really go together so it’s natural that I love them both.

The only weighty criticism I have for this season is that I feel Mulder gets more spotlight moments than Scully. Not egregiously, but it feels like he’s usually the one in the final fight, seeing the aliens, figuring it out, etc. I do know that they were trying to break gender roles by making Scully the skeptic, but given that the aliens are so real…here at least she often came off as oblivious and she sometimes felt like she was tagging along on Mulder’s quests. Which SUCKS! Because I LOVE HER and she could be SO USEFUL if the writers LET HER. This is why I really loved the moments where she got to step up. Veteran viewers…want to tell me if this gets better?

That criticism aside, I could watch these two fight monsters for days, and I know the S2-S5/6 stretch is considered the show’s best, so I’m looking forward to that.

Individual episode reviews under the cut.

Pilot: Fantastic introduction! It did a great job establishing the characters and their dynamic pretty seamlessly, as well as introducing the alien lore in a way that we could digest. It wasn’t perfect and the story was a bit clunky at times, but it got me hooked and did its job well. I also liked Scully being the audience surrogate here. 8/10

Deep Throat: This episode really solidified the dynamic introduced in the pilot, and is packed with great character moments. It gets a HUGE boost from Scully exchanging the guard to rescue Mulder at the end. I mentioned living for the moments when Scully gets to step up, but I think it was necessary to put this moment so early. Because Scully is new to the X-Files and also clearly wrong about aliens, it was necessary to show us that she had a lot to bring to the table and that Mulder needs her. Also a special shoutout to Seth Green as a stoner. 9.5/10

Squeeze: A very fun monster of the week episode, slightly reminiscent of BtVS. Decently creepy with that 90s horror/sci-fi vibe we all love. Plus lots of great Mulder/Scully moments. (Also, despite my complaints about Scully being underutilized, I enjoyed Mulder saving Scully at the end. Rescuing one another from mortal peril is actually my favorite trope, as long as it’s balanced. In that regard, this season has been). 8/10

Conduit: Honestly this episode was a little slow for me, I felt like the pacing could have been better. I had a hard time staying interested. Also it was hilarious that this was supposed to be Iowa because Iowa does not have mountains like that. It gets a boost from the ending scene which in itself is a 100/10. 6/10

The Jersey Devil: Now this is campier and goofier than suits the show, and I feel like they realized that soon after this. The Mulder/Scully banter still made this a good time, but it wasn’t great. Also not helped by the fact that everything happened during the day (the only time in this show where the lighting was too bright) and the Jersey Devil looked like a normal person with some dust on her. 6/10

Shadows: I found the mystery of this one quite engaging. Back with those 90s horror vibes we love, and it kept me guessing right up until the agents figured it out. Negative points for the lack of Mulder/Scully banter though. 7/10

Ghost in the Machine: Was this cheesy? Yes. Was it objectively good? No. Did I enjoy it anyway? Yes. Who doesn’t love a killer computer? Also Scully crawling out of the vents was badass af. Objectively like a 6/10 but 7/10 for my personal enjoyment.

Ice: Now THIS was the stuff. An objectively great episode of television. The tension, the paranoia, the fallout, seeing what our leads do under that kind of stress…brilliant. (Although my dad the geologist couldn’t help but point out that there is no ice sheet in Alaska). Very tempted to write an alternate version where Mulder actually is infected and Scully has to find a cure before the others kill him. That would’ve been interesting. Anyway 10/10

Space: Apparently people don’t like this episode but I enjoyed it. It had a ticking time bomb feel that I quite enjoyed. Also Mulder’s space nerdiness was adorable. 8/10

Fallen Angel: Similar to Conduit, this episode felt rather slow to me despite the fact that there was a lot happening. It just sort of failed to hook me, which is a rarity for this show. 6/10

Eve: This was FUN! I love when we get to unravel the mystery along with the agents and the plot twists definitely kept me guessing. Props to the child actors who did a great job. I did get thrown off by the many parallels to Stranger Things-even though this obviously came out first. 8/10

Fire: Once I got over my anger at sharing a name with Mulder’s horrendous ex, I liked this one. Both Mulder and Scully got good character moments here, with Mulder trying to shield Scully from all his drama and also showing one of his flaws-he’s susceptible to manipulation. Scully, conversely, was really the MVP of this episode and carried the investigation on her back. Also props to our bad guy of the week-great job being creepy! 7.5/10

Beyond the Sea: Immaculate. Probably my favorite episode of the season. Scully burying her grief in work and Mulder being gentler with her than he’s ever been. Scully’s family lore reveal. Both of them going toe to toe with this killer (forgot his name) and not knowing what to believe. Mulder getting shot and Scully getting FURIOUS. Scully’s complicated relationship forming with this killer while she also thinks about her father (rather reminiscent of Silence of the Lambs). Cinema. 10/10

Genderbender: So we have gender switching aliens who kill people…I’ll give the show overall a pass since it’s 1994 but I will not be revisiting this one. Extra points for Mulder yelling GET OFF OF HER at the guy who’s working his weird magic on Scully. Minus points for him blaming her for it after. 2.5/10

Lazarus: So we got panicked Scully 2 episodes ago and now we get panicked Mulder and it is GLORIOUS. I also found all 3 side characters-Scully’s ex as well as both criminals, interesting, especially as Scully’s ex began to mix with the bad guy. Minus points for not shooting the bank robber until after he started shooting up a room full of civilians, extra points for Mulder being great this entire episode. 9/10

Young at Heart: Episodes with creepy killers are always my favorite, and I loved seeing Mulder get toyed with. Reverse aging science…eh it’s not the main point. Minus points for the worst plan ever (let’s invite the killer into a crowded area and let him shoot at Scully even though apparently her bulletproof vest barely saved her), but extra points for Mulder angst. This man has so much guilt. 9/10

E.B.E: Honestly the plot of this one wasn’t super interesting but that’s not what we’re here for is it? Every Mulder and Deep Throat interaction? Perfect. Scully’s little « the truth is out there, but so are lies » speech? Immaculate. The ending where Deep Throat reveals his backstory and Mulder says « I’m trying to decide which lie to believe? » Cinema. 9.5/10

Miracle Man: A bit of a letdown after such a strong streak, but still solid. Pretty good! And I admired that they had the guts to kill the kid too. 6.5/10

Shapes: Another fun 90s horror episode, HEAVY on the BtVS vibes. And it actually dealt with all of the Native American issues better than I thought it would! Not necessarily well in every aspect, but I was expecting much worse considering Genderbender. 7.5/10

Darkness Falls: Y’all this was GOOD! I loved the sense of impending doom that was just present the whole time, and the melancholic feel of the entire thing. Minus points for the anti-environmentalist sentiments and for the blatant plot armor at the end (they really should have died…but then there wouldn’t be a show). 9/10

Tooms: While Tooms being let out on parole was a bit of a stretch, I enjoyed seeing Mulder stretched to his limit. He’s a good character to do that with. Tooms was an even better villain here than in Squeeze imo, because his craftiness really got to shine through. Huge bonus points for the scene in the car. « Mulder, I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anybody but you. » I’M DEAD. 8.5/10

Born Again: The most memorable parts of this episode for me were the thick fake New York accents and the fact that the kid was named Michelle so I kept quoting Derry Girls in my terrible fake Derry accent the whole time. 5/10

Roland: This was the only episode I hated. I could barely get through any Roland scenes-I thought the autism portrayal was clunky and unnecessary and I just don’t want to watch autistic people suffer. It pained me. There wasn’t even any Mulder/Scully banter to salvage it. In fact, it seemed they were barely in the episode at all. It gets half a point because Scully looked really pretty this episode. 0.5/10

The Erlenmeyer Flask: Now this was GOOD STUFF. I feel like since we know the aliens are there and there’s less mystery, alien-focused episodes so far have been slower and I’ve liked them less but THIS kept the pace up and the mystery going throughout. I was fully hooked. I was also WORRIED for Mulder at the end-I thought we were getting a season cliffhanger! And those chemical burns looked BAD. And I DID NOT expect Deep Throat to die OR for them to get shut down. Where the heck are they gonna go from here? I love it. My favorite thing about this episode was really getting back into Scully’s headspace for the last 10 minutes or so. With some exceptions, I feel like a lot of the season has been shown through Mulder’s eyes (part of my gripe from earlier), but the pilot was 100% Scully and circling back to her here felt right. I also liked that she had to do another hostage exchange-a parallel to the first time she really showed why Mulder needs her. So much to love here. 10/10

Idk how many txf fans I have here aside from my one post that made the rounds, but if you’re here congratulations for making it through my essay! Let me know if you’d like any more thoughts/analyses, and if you’d like shorter, episodic posts when it comes time for Season 2:)

[jrow]

May Prompts (29)

Day 28 here. Start from the beginning here. Day 30 here.

Hero

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

Doctor. Writer. Veteran.

He will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life.

He is not a hero.

Junkie. Sociopath. Freak.

That John would choose him for a friend is unfathomable. That John could want more, entirely out of the realm of possibility.

It does not compute. It cannot have happened.

Currently, John is looking at him, concern etched on his features.

“Are you okay, Sherlock? You fainted.”

“No, that doesn’t seem right.”

The worry on John’s face morphs into a smile. “Who’s the doctor here?”

He furrows his brow. Perhaps he did faint. Perhaps he hit his head. Perhaps that’s why he hallucinated the conversation with John. But then he sees the gift. “You gave me a Yamaha SV250. And a case decorated with Rosie’s handprint.”

“Err … yes? I mean yes, I did.”

“That doesn’t seem right. Because that means you want to move back. With Rosie.”

The smile gets bigger. “Yes.”

“And this would entail sleeping in my bed. With me. Presumably.”

“Presumably.” And now John looks like the cat that got the canary.

“And I fainted?”

“When I tell everyone the story later, I may use the term swoon.”

His eyes snap to John’s. “You want to tell everyone?”

John’s smile softens. “Yeah, quite badly, actually. I want to move in. I want to sleep in your bed. And I want to tell everyone. Not that anyone will be all that surprised.”

None of this makes sense. “But you … you are … you’re a war hero!” he sputters.

John knits his brow. “I don’t think that’s true and I don’t see how it’d be relevant even if it was.”

“Of course it’s relevant!” he says, sitting up. “War heroes don’t raise families with sociopaths!”

John sighs fondly, reaching out and touching his arm. “It’s a good thing you aren’t a sociopath then.” A pause. “You know, I was just thinking how beautiful protagonists don’t usually end up with minor side characters.”

He scoffs. John can be such a fool sometimes. “I am the not the protagonist, John. I wasn’t even in the story until you came along.”

John chuckles and stands, before reaching out a hand to help him up. “ Well, I am certainly not the protagonist. So who does that leave?”

They both reflexively look up when they hear the sound of tiny feet hitting the ground. A couple seconds later comes the loud squeak of the upstairs door.

“Lock, play!” Rosie yells at the top of her lungs. The speed at which that girl can go from fast asleep to boundless energy is staggering.

John sighs and looks at his watch. “Right on schedule, I suppose. Busy day means short nap.”

“You go lie down, I am the one being summoned,” he says. Despite his fainting/swooning a moment ago, John is the one who needs to rest. He coughs and feels heat rising in his cheeks. “Lie down in … our bed?”

John looks at him with an expression that can only be described as adoration. “Okay, but can I make one request before you go see to the princess upstairs?”

He nods, slowly. Fairly certain, and fairly terrified, of what’s coming.

“Can I kiss you now?”

He nods again. And then, without hesitation, John kisses him. It’s slow and soft and like he’s something precious. And it is terrifying, but in the best possible way.

He’s still not 100% sure this isn’t a hallucination.

He closes his eyes and returns the kiss.

John Watson is nothing short of a hero.

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty @quimerasyutopias

[ohkkotsuu]

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒! utahime iori.

ৎ୭ PAIRING: utahime iori x f!reader (she/her pronouns, afab anatomy)

ৎ୭ ABOUT: you and your boyfriend, satoru gojo, have been fighting for a while now. he has been paying too much attention to other girls, breaking your heart and ignoring your needs. when it gets back to utahime, she sees the opportunity to help you, like a good veteran.

ৎ୭ CW/TW: [ NSFW ]. college au/no curses au, cheating (reader cheats on satoru, implications he cheated too), reader is multi, shoko is a bad friend to satoru here i think?? she and utahime talk about fucking you. geto flirted with you (off-screen). utahime is head over heels for you without even noticing. tbh gojo is a bit of a jerk here, but everyone acts like jerk, ngl. utahime was originally going to do it out of petty revenge but she really started to like you. there's a gay vibe between shoko and utahime (they joke about a three way with you), and between gojo and geto. everyone is kinda multi implied. everyone is on college (around 21-26)! reader is a sophomore, gojo is a junior, utahime is a senior. honorary mentions: nanami is a freshman, geto is a junior, shoko is a junior. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I'M NOT A GOOD SMUT WRITER, I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS — this is my first time writing anything along these lines (smut) im sweating buckets, not proofread

PORN WITHOUT MUCH PLOT; fingering, facesitting, 69, mentions of previous sex (among reader and gojo), exhibitionism, possessive behavior (utahime towards reader), praise/worship kink, getting caught, a bit of cuckolding?? nicknames (pretty, darling, princess, lovely, angel).

＃TAGGING: @maisieisbae • thanks for your support! <3

UTAHIME was sure that living with satoru gojo was a kind of divine penance. payment for crimes she committed in a past life. there is no other explanation for how terrible it is to have to deal with a man like him.

and it only got worse when satoru gojo, the worst man she's ever known, got a new girlfriend. you. and oh, you. you were perfect — you are perfect, but you're gojo's. he doesn't let anyone forget, and that makes utahime angrier than any of his lame jokes.

because he could never do you justice.

the first time utahime saw you, she reluctantly found herself at a party she didn't even wanted to attend. that's what she gets for betting against shoko on poker night (she always wins, after all). however, she made the most of the situation by settling into a cozy corner, sipping on her drink while chatting with shoko about anything on mind. exams, people being jerks, the hot girl shoko wants to call, — and utahime's motivational support was important, of course — anything, really.

from her secluded spot, she couldn't help but observe her younger peers recklessly flirting, which added to her growing disdain for the party. she just wanted to de-stress from exam week, but the environment only added to her headache. she was ready to punch any idiot if they made a move on her or her friend. prying eyes and drunken men quickly turned away from the woman's aggressive gaze, making shoko laugh.

as she scanned the room, utahime noticed a familiar face — geto, one of the popular idiots (as she sweetly called them), talking to a group of girls. his flirtatious attitude is usual, what is unusual to see him without his equally well-liked best friend. that damn satoru gojo. utahime couldn't help but feel curious about why he was alone this time. it was strange not to see the partners in crime together.

“is gojo fuckin’ a girl on the second floor or something?” she asks curiously, making shoko raise an eyebrow. “the trash there is all alone.”

shoko giggles, snatching utahime's drink from her hand, earning some protests of her, to take a sip. the alcohol burns in her throat, but she loves anything that burns after all. she stares at her friend and shakes her head no.

“haven't you heard? satoru got a new girlfriend. real cutie.” utahime finds herself interested, tilting her head to encourage her friend to continue. and speaking the truth this time. “okay, you got me. she's hot. like, I mean it. not going to lie, got me really jealous. she's just my type.”

“you got any pictures?”

while shoko searches which coat pocket her cell phone is in (she can never find it at first try), utahime watches who enters through the door. she scowls, rolling her eyes. speak of the devil — satoru gojo himself, but he's not alone. utahime doesn't expect much as he pulls whoever it is along with him to join the party, heading to the dance floor.

gojo always has a girl, or more than one, around him. he is like a light bulb, effortlessly bringing the moths to him. be a girlfriend, fling, sneaky links. it is never lasting. he's the kind of asshole who won't settle for just one girl, and ends up breaking the hearts of several and just disappearing. sometimes he and the other trash (geto) seem to forget they're in public, and act like two hormonal assholes with those girls.

honestly, utahime doesn't know why so many girls find them attractive. what's so special about them? for her, they're cute at best. physical appearance does not make up for the fuckboy attitude. instead of settling down for guys who would care for them, take them on dates — like that freshman, nanami, the kind blonde —, they choose to run after whoever will break their hearts after a good fuck.

then, she sees you. oh, you— good lord. utahime can't help but stare at every step you take, arm in arm with your boyfriend, with him grinning from ear to ear as he guides you through the party. you are the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. with a sweet smile, well-done makeup, in a tight party dress — holy fucking crist. she doesn't even realize that her jaw has dropped or that she's in a trance until shoko nudges her.

“told you.” she has a smirk on her face, and utahime can feel her face heating up in jealousy. “pretty, isn't she?”

“pretty is an understatement. c'mon. what is she doing with a stupid fuck like gojo, anyway? damn, that dress. i can see her thighs.” iori watches you from afar, as your boyfriend asks drinks for the two of you. “how long have they been together?”

shoko thinks for a moment, rummaging through her phone. utahime peeks over her shoulder and she can see that she is searching for your instagram page.

“two months, i think?” shoko laughs when her friend let out an impressed whistle. “It's a new record for satoru, I know, but damn. a girl like that, I would also be with for long. check her insta.”

utahime blames the redness of her cheeks on alcohol. while shoko shows her your page full of selfies, she has to restrain herself from picking up her cell phone and immediately following you. there are so many pictures — pictures of you in baggy pajamas, chilling at home with your boyfriend. bikini photos at the beach or pool. a photo at night, in the stars. and you're so, so pretty in all of them. god damn satoru gojo. always getting the best out of the best.

“don't even look at me with that face, I haven't tasted her, and I won't.” shoko says with a pout. utahime's eyes are still focused on her phone — she's liking a picture of you in a bikini, in what seems to be satoru's house for a pool party.

“what do you mean?”

the music at the party background seems irrelevant. after seeing you, utahime can only hear her own heart hammering in her chest. goddamit, she thinks. im acting like the trash.

“y’know, satoru is always sharing his girls with suguru. they never invite me, though, those assholes.” she says without much resentment, shrugging. “I had asked to go along this time, only that suguru told me that he asked to have her too, and satoru wouldn't let him.”

“you're kidding.” utahime says, shocked. that can't be true. shoko laughs.

“I know, right? they share everything. but i think satoru really likes this one. he doesn't want to leave anything to geto. or me.”

utahime turns her head to see you again. the beautiful girlfriend of satoru gojo. who's actually being ignored as mentioned jerk is paying more attention to his phone than to his girlfriend. utahime feels anger burning inside of her. if she had a girlfriend like you nothing could hold her attention.

“you wanna hit it? i think she's very faithful, so you might wanna avoid being direct.”

“oh, please, shoko.” utahime crosses her arms. “she's that idiot's girlfriend. she will be unhappy with him, look at her face, she's unhappy already. every unhappy woman can use a helping hand, can't she?” both of them smirk at that. “besides, he seems to be getting tired of her already. two months is too much for him. the biggest commitment gojo ever made was a tiny tattoo or something.”

shoko laughs at that. “true, true. why don't you invite her over? i have her number.” she says in a sing-song voice, but utahime shakes her head no.

“i have a better idea, but thanks.”

ieiri just shrugs and smiles at her. the partners on crime can be terrible, but these two know how to misbehave too.

“any chance you invite me, too? three is much better than two, huh?” utahime gives her a light push as a joke, and they both laugh. she looks at you again, smirking slightly, more to herself than to anyone else.

“nah. veterans first.”

utahime's plan actually starts with a simple motive: petty revenge. gojo is the worst of all juniors — since she was a sophomore and he was a freshman, she had no peace. unfortunately, the coming of shoko on her life brought the coming of this imbecile along with her.

there were always reasons for satoru's jokes or mockings. he had this constant joking tone, but she understood how cruel he could be. always bragging about his perfect grades, his good results in sports, how he managed to be captain of the debate club before she could, and of course, bragging about how he could get good pussy without lifting a finger. he had no respect for seniors (or any authority figure, frankly), especially utahime. so teaching him a lesson was the only necessary way to sent a message.

It started in a cliche but simple way. you were at the library, having trouble looking up a stupidly specific book — needed in a research essay required by one of your classes. the library index looked more disorganized than anything, although it's function is exactly the opposite.

it would take half of an afternoon just to find the research materials, and who knows how long to get everything you needed for the essay. not to mention sitting down and writing it all down.

“do you need help?” you hear a voice calling from behind you. you turn on your heels to see a woman. you recognize her. is that woman who is always with shoko, satoru's friend.

“that would be lovely, thanks.” you smile, and she moves close to you to offer assistance. “you're a senior, right? utahime? thanks for the help.”

she nods. god, you're so sweet, she thinks. satoru doesn't deserve you. you introduce yourself quickly and she smiles at you. after a good few minutes of searching and casual conversation, she pokes your shoulder.

“so, this is what you're looking for?” she hands you a heavy book.

“yes! that's it! oh, thank you. you just saved my life on this essay.” she giggles, giving you a reassuring nod.

“hey, no worries. that subject was hell when I was a sophomore. but im good at it now.” she puts her hands on her hips. ���are you having difficulties? I can be your tutor, no problem. you don't even have to pay me. courtesy to a friend of shoko's.”

your smile widens, and iori swears her heart skips a beat. in fact, the idea was perfect. satoru and you have been fighting over the last few weeks with the attention he's been giving to random girls (usually in miniskirts). shoko is busy always studying or cheating, and geto — well, he's geto. satoru's best friend who will always side with gojo. so things have been lonely around your house.

plus you know utahime is one of the best in her class. a veteran's help that fell for you at the right time, like a gift from heaven.

“i would be very happy about it, actually. thank you so much! wait, take my number. let's schedule it on days when you're free, okay?”

“uh-huh. perfect.” utahime feels herself smiling like a fool while you exchange phone numbers.

it was the beginning. the preparation of the land. now utahime had to move on to the next part.

tutoring took place every wednesday night. a day you originally planned to spend with satoru at the beginning of your relationship, full of dates and romantic promises — until he starts to get tired. being late for dates, not showing up to them, being seen or photographed at some party instead. then wednesdays nights as a couple just stopped happening. the frequency was decreasing until it stopped completely. you don't even want to see satoru's face after your last fight. he's been acting like a jealous asshole, freaking out at anyone who talks to you. when you try to do the same, he acts like you're insane.

this is one of the concerns you share with utahime. it's been almost five weeks since she's been helping you with the subject — she was the first person you told about your straight A on the essay —, and you have become close. she carries your stuff sometimes, walks you around campus. you text each other late into the night, laughing over silly cat videos or talking about preferences. she's not just a tutor or a senior, she's your friend.

she is a much better listener than satoru. especially in recent times. he rarely visits your apartment now, and you're giving him the cold shoulder. you even started avoiding geto, not wanting to hear through him how your boyfriend is sorry and he is going to change or whatever mess he makes up this time. utahime is the first one you share everything with now. she is happy for her achievements, celebrates with you for them. she's always checking up on you — if you are drinking water, resting. if you can't sleep, she calls you during the night and you laugh until you pass out from tiredness. she makes your anxiety and sadness go away when she's around.

satoru knew how to tolerate, utahime knew how to listen. an important and crucial difference: while moving away from your boyfriend, you grew closer to utahime. every little message or request to do something, even if it was drinking at a random bar, warmed your heart. it was always crowded at first, with even a few freshmen. but then, she reduced the group, and now it's customary for just the two of you to go out.

when you're together, utahime doesn't pay attention to anything else. nobody else. no girl in a miniskirt attracts her attention. her cell phone could beep for minutes and she wouldn't even spare it a glance when you're in the same room as her. she is kind, respects your limits, does her best to help you with everything and is happy when you are happy.

and honestly, she's beautiful. you can't take her gaze away even when you should be paying attention to what she says, not her appearance. she is wearing dark jeans, a black tank top that shows a lot of skin. so simple yet so elegant. her hair is tied in a low ponytail, and she's sitting by your side on your couch, pointing to something at your notebook screen.

she's saying something, but your brain can't quite process the words. the way her lips move is kind of hypnotic.

“and here, you have—” she snaps her fingers in front of you with a smile. “are you listening, angel?”

petnames became a thing. you let her call you that a few times and now, utahime seems addicted to it, even though she doesn't do it in public.

“yeah, no, you got me, sorry. can you repeat that?” she shrugs. normally, she would be irritated by someone who doesn't listen to a tutoring session. but with you?

iori has all the patience in the world and then some more when it's about you.

“i think we could use a break anyway. five minutes and we start again, all right?” you nod as she leans in to kiss your cheek, like she usually do to reward you for a good answer.

as utahime gets up to fetch some water from the kitchen, you start thinking about your relationship with her. the word sounds more serious, something beyond friendship, but there's nothing more fit to it. you realize that you and she are definitely getting closer than usual friends. you feel comfortable in her presence and enjoy her company, and she clearly enjoys yours. in fact, you have noticed that your senior really likes closeness and physical contact, and it's interesting how much you do too. you wonder: this is just a coincidence or if it's a sign of something more?

satoru, always appearing when uninvited even in thought, flashes through your mind. in the beginning of your relationship, he was as lovely as utahime, but things cooled down over time. you start to compare your current relationship with utahime to your past relationship with satoru. you realize that while things may have started out strong with satoru, the passion eventually fizzled out. with utahime, however, you feel a deeper connection that continues to grow with each passing day. could this be something more than friendship?

the guilty of thinking about this when your boyfriend is away consumes your insides. but there's this sparkling though, that question whose answer you so ardently want: what would utahime be like as your girlfriend?

“hey.” she calls, moving closer to you. her glass of water was left on the table on your living room. “you ok? what's on your mind?”

she's so sweet. so sweet and worried all the time, trying to make you comfortable and happy. she would make an wonderful girlfriend.

“yes.” you have to shake that though. what are you thinking? this is utahime, your kind senior. and you have a boyfriend. “just— got stuff on my mind.”

“about you and gojo?” she sits down beside you, worried, watching you nod. “that asshole doesn't return your calls, does he?”

you're never imagining the contempt in her voice. for some reason, utahime really doesn't like satoru. but it's understandable. the way he's been acting lately, doubts about your relationship with him are sprouting like fruit on a tree.

you feel tears well up in your eyes. utahime let out a gasp, worried as hell now. where is the satoru who would bring you flowers and spend hours talking to you when you can't sleep? could he really have just gotten sick of you? got bored?

that's what everyone said it would happen. satoru is not a one woman man, he never was. and judging by the look of things, he never will be. your relationship has just gone downhill steadily over the last few weeks. if you had someone like utahime, none of this would be happening.

“hey.” she calls you gently, whispering your name. utahime puts a hand on your face, tilting your head to look at her. her thumb is wiping away your tears. “don't cry. please. that jerk doesn't deserve you, he doesn't deserve your tears. you could do so much better. you only deserve the better.”

there is an odd consensus that you sense when you look into her eyes. something you two are thinking about. the best is not him.

you're trying to get some words out, to figure what to do next— when utahime leans in, looking you on the eye. her voice is a gentle z soft whisper you thought you wouldn't hear from anyone else. your heart skips a beat.

“can i kiss you?” there's so much despair. so much desire to have you in her voice, like you've never heard from anyone else. something that goes beyond a passing lust or a quickly acquired love.

instead of saying anything, you put your hands on her face, pulling iori close. you smash your lips against hers, letting out a soft sigh against her mouth because of how good it feels. she kisses calmly, a controlled and subtle desire — that's still there, but there is no rush.

there is no explanation for how good this moment is. when you pull apart, she looks at you. what do you whisper sends shivers down her spine.

“again.” her eyes widen. “kiss me again, utahime. and don't stop.”

she leans in, practically smirking against your lips. “whatever you wish, princess.” and she does exactly as you told her.

even though utahime is in no hurry, she gets bolder with every brush of lips. her hands wander around your body and settle on your waist. she pushes her tongue against yours out of the simple desire to be that close to you. it's not a rush. there's desire there, but it's more than that, more than just a passing desire for a good fuck. more than you ever felt coming from satoru.

oh, lord. your boyfriend is travelling and you're here. it's late at night and you're making out with utahime on the couch in your apartment, moaning against her mouth because how good it feels when she sucks your tongue, how she grabs your waist.

iori leans back again, licking her lips — a bit coated with your saliva and hers. the way she looks at you, with that much adoration on her eyes...it makes you forget about gojo in a heartbeat.

“wanna take this to the room, pretty?” and you never said yes so fast in your life.

just once. just this once, just tonight, you promise yourself. what a good liar.

not even you can blame withdrawal on the lewd way your body reacts to hers. utahime undresses you gently, laying you down in bed. the lights on, the curtains drawn, blotting out the sky outside and leaving just you and her. not even the stars will be a witness to it. no other people, no doubts, just you and utahime. the door was left slightly ajar, and she is enjoying each new inch of skin she sees, layer after layer of fabric being leisurely removed. she'll dedicate this whole night just for you, and every other night you want her.

you pull her hair tie, watching the strands coming lose and letting her hair down. she chuckles as she leans down to kiss you again. gentle, soft pecks. you are being treated like glass, like the most precious thing on her life — and it's making you really, really wet.

ever since satoru simply disappeared from the map and only left a message saying he was going to travel, fulfilling your desires all on your own has been an arduous task. she's undoing the clasp of your bra, admiring how your body looks in underwear. better than her sexiest dreams.

“black lingerie, lovely?” you blush and nod, helping her get rid of the rest of your clothes and panties. “i love it.” she whispers, lips pressed against yours, eyes wandering down your body. “help me undress, pretty? it's not fair if you're the only one naked, although I really enjoy the view.”

she chuckles sweetly, seeing your hands move to help her out her crop top, while she's undoing the buttons on her jeans.

“utahime, you're so pretty.” you whisper is like something heaven-sent, just for her.

“am i? you're the pretty one here darling.” utahime wants to give herself a self-control medal for going so long without kissing you. and now that you're naked underneath her, she wants nothing else than to touch you.

but she forces herself to be patient until you two are naked. she gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, whispering a “good girl” as her hands move to cup your breasts. the sensation is quite new, her fingers twisting and pulling your nipples, making moans erupt from you. your tits were never the focus on any previous sex you had.

“mm— ah, utahime, this is...”

“no one played with your nipples before? you seem quite sensitive here.” she pulls one nipple slightly, delighting in the way you moan.

god, you're so pretty she can't decide where to touch first. you're laying down on the mattress, with her sat and settled between your legs. the way you look at her makes her whole body shiver, and utahime bites down her lip as her eyes and one of her hands wander down. her fingertips graze over your stomach, lower abdomen, and—

“is this okay?” she whispers, and you look at her, surprised. “we can stop if you want. we can always stop.” she's so sweet, looking you in the eyes, searching for any sign you're uncomfortable.

but you've never been so comfortable and worked up, really. you nod, looking at her hands.

“yeah. yeah, please— keep going.”

“okay, pretty.” her hand moves down, index finger sliding among your folds, relishing in the wet sound. that gets a moan out of you and a smirk out of iori. “you're so wet. is this all for me, angel?”

“mmm.” you nod, biting down your lip and yelping when she pinches your nipple.

“don’t hide your noises. I'll start touching you now, okay?”

when she gets our approval, her fingers tease you, opening your cunt for a better view. utahime licks down her lips — for weeks now she has been wondering what it tastes like. but patience. she can't have everything in one night, if she wants you wholeheartedly.

she needs to make you want more. and that's exactly what she does, thumb playing with your clit and her other hand giving some special treatment to your breasts. as she ordered, your mouth falls open, letting out lewd noises. it's like you're doused in gasoline and utahime is a spark. her touch sends flames throughout your body.

she gets you panting in seconds, and stops. utahime chuckles meanly at your whines of complaint. “relax, princess.” she instructs, raising her hand to lick of your juices from her fingertips. “i'll start using my fingers just a bit. tell me if it hurts, alright? and help me here when I touch you.”

she coats her fingers in saliva, bringing them down to your entrance again. she massages you, slowly entering one finger as she looks you in the eyes. she can't believe she had to wait so long to see this. your flushed face and erotic moans make every second, every night full of wet dreams of that moment, every minute desiring you more than anything — it's all worth it. she has you now.

she checks that you're okay and starts moving her wrist. you're so wet, the noise of her finger entering you enough to make your cheeks burn. she's trying to find something, her fingertips pressing your insides gently, here, there, until—

“ah!” you moan when she hits your sweet spot.

“found it.” she adds one more finger, pressing onto that spot again and again, making you squirm.

“uta— hime! utahime!” the hand on your chest moves to your waist, helping you grind against her. utahime uses her thumb to play with your clit, making your back arch a bit. “i'm close!”

“yeah? go on, lovely. make a mess on my fingers.” the stretch of a third finger being added is quickly forgotten as your orgasm wash over you. your legs shake, your back arches fully off the bed, and you're grabbing the sheets for dear life.

she doesn't stop immediately, like your boyfriend usually would if he wasn't cumming. she helps you ride out your high. utahime pulls her fingers off you slowly, licking the mess on her fingers, putting them entirely on her mouth while keeping eye contact with you. erotic. half of your brain doesn't fully function. this was so good, better than any orgasm you had before. she found all your weak spots and hit them perfectly.

utahime caress your thigh gently. a nod of approval, which she usually did to congratulate you on a correct answer in tutoring classes. always rewarding you. utahime leans in to give you a kiss, making you taste yourself on her tongue.

“was that good?” she asks as she leans back.

“you’re kidding me?” you're still trying to catch your breath. is she insane? can't she see how perfect this was? “it was amazing. really, really good—” you hesitate, but she smiles at you.

“go on, angel. tell me what's on your mind.” she gently encourages, voice a bit husky.

“can i do anything to make you feel half as good?” you suggest, shyly.

the glint in utahime's eyes would be dangerous if it weren't so attractive. she tilts her head to the side, pretending to think about something — but you two know. she's been dreaming about it for weeks. she is just choosing what to do.

“there is something, yes. we only do if you want it, though.”

you nod, waiting for her to continue. “what is it?”

“did you ever tried facesitting with a woman?”

that's how you're laid back, with utahime hovering over your face. she smells sweet, addictive even. you wonder if the sex is feeling so good because of how you two get along. but that doesn't matter that much now. she's turned so she can touch you, making your legs wide open, facing the door.

“i'm not going to put my full weight on you, but if you need to breathe, tap my thighs or my waist three times. three times, you hear me?” you hear her voice from above you.

“mm-hmm.” you confirm, hands on the top of her thighs, pulling her to you and giving an experimental lick on her cunt. utahime moans softly, and you see that as permission to continue. you feel her taste on your tongue, and it's so good.

soon the gentle, kitten licks you're giving her are becoming more hungry, desperate ones. iori closes her eyes and let her mouth hang open, letting out moans. her hands are flat against your stomach, trying to steady herself.

“oh, that's it, angel.” she praises. “that's so good, keep licking like that. mmm.”

she's on heaven right now, she's sure of it. satoru gojo's cute girlfriend is eating her out just like she dreamt about for weeks. one of her hands move down to your cunt, just as wet as hers.

utahime licks her lips and moves down to lay over you, taking some hair out of her sweaty face and starting to return the favor. you grab her hips, her ass, giving it a light squeeze.

the feeling is electrifying. there is no other way to describe it beyond that. she makes every nerve in your body burn with the flicks of her tongue, as you do for her. she grabs your thighs, pulling them apart. you can feel her muffled moans against your pussy, the vibrations rushing straight to your core.

and the feeling of your tongue on her cunt is the most perfect she ever felt. utahime smirks to herself, thinking about ways to convince you to do this more. but she won't have to. one night has already turned you two into addicts. existing without each other will become impossible after that.

and that's where the best part happens. utahime is giving kitten licks on your clit when she raises her look, looking at the door. her eyes widen as she sees who's standing there: satoru gojo himself, watching you two through the opening with a terrified look on his face.

there is a bouquet of flowers in his hands. the poor thing is pale and utahime would feel sorry for anyone else. she realizes that, from your position, cunt on your face, you can't see him. you don't even know he's there, since gojo didn't make a sound. then she leans back from your cunt, feeling you whine against hers. she doesn't even have to try hard to look happy. you make her so happy.

and she'll make you happy like this idiot never did.

utahime returns to the original position, grinding her hips against your mouth, bringing a hand to finger you and replace her tongue. she looks satoru straight in the eyes as she moans loudly. it's so obscene.

“oh, pretty, just like that. you love licking your senior's pussy, don't you?” your hum of annoyance almost makes her cum on the spot. the way you grab her hips and pull her more to you is driving her insane. but she still has a secondary goal.

she smirks seeing gojo grimace like that. in years, she had never seen him so upset, so angry. and she can guess why. i think satoru really likes this one, shoko said. he broke so many hearts without giving a damn, provoked utahime several times — and on the day he finally, truly likes a girl, his senior is fucking his girlfriend.

well, after tonight, you'll certainly won't be his anymore. utahime will make sure of that. she enjoys the fact that her back arches when you lick her so eagerly, to stare right at him mockingly.

“told you, y-you could do so much better than him. atta girl. perfect little girl, i want your cunt all to myself now.” she shivers as you moan in agreement, her dirty talking turning you on. “haah— you're really close, aren't you, angel? it's okay. I am, too. i wanna cum on your mouth, okay? you'll let me? ‘going to let your senior make a mess on your tongue?”

“uh-huh!” it's hard to talk when you're so overwhelmed by her taste, by the sound of squelch squelch squelch her fingers make when they enter your cunt again and again. she leans in to spit on it, making you moan and shiver, trying to pull her back to you.

“you're never going to let him hit it again, right, princess?” her question makes a vein of anger pop out on satoru's neck. she never saw him so bothered. so, utahime continues, lifting her hips a bit so you can talk, but not see. “who does this cunt belongs to? remind me and I'll let you cum.”

you whine when she's off you, quick to answer and get your release. “yours! yours, utahime! a-ahh— please go harder! i wanna cum!”

she lowers her hips back down, moaning when your mouth eats her like that. she tilts her head to the side, spreading your legs more for gojo to see how much of a mess she's making you. her thumb plays with your clit again, and she starts humping her hips against your tongue, moaning loudly.

“that's right.” she licks her lips and looks the man right in the eye. “all mine, princess. now go on. cum for me.”

her words are the final push that sends you over the edge. your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and the way you moan against her cunt is obscene. utahime finger-fucks you during your high, making you squirm, undecided if he's trying to run away or lean more into her touch. you thrust your tongue inside of her and that's when she loses it.

she cums almost at the same time as you, riding your face while looking your boyfriend in the eye. you two ride out your highs, and she lifts her hips slightly to help you breathe more easily. your eyes are closed, and you're panting. she's breathless too, trying to regain control do to one last thing.

she bites down her lip, and when things are calming down and he's about to leave, pissed, utahime moves her lips to him without making a sound. a phrase she'd said hundreds of times to him before, but he'd never listened to her.

“respect your senior.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀> there will be no part 2.

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