#in the writing of this post i had to reference a Just Security post on the case because i had totally forgotten about Kiobel

[badkitty3000]

Anonymous asked:

THE ONE FROM THE TRAILER BITTING HIS LIP AND THE SITTING ONE OH LORD HOLD ME BAAAACK please write something for those specific ones (+ last 2 ones duh) like i don’t even need plot atp the one bitting his lip made me go feral 😀

I needed a few days to work on this, but I got it done! This ask is referring to a post I made featuring some sexy Five gifs that you can see here.

And well, you said no plot was needed, so here you go!

Summary: You and Five get down and dirty on the train. 1.3k words

Warnings: Smut, Daddy kink, blow jobs

You hadn’t stopped nagging him about it since he came back and he told you about the never-ending time traveling subway that only he could access. He had deciphered the map fairly quickly after accidentally getting stuck and it had only been a few weeks for him, and only a few minutes for you. But in those few, lonely weeks, he had needed something to occupy his mind, and so he dreamt up multiple scenarios involving the two of you on that train. After your steamy reunion, when he told you about them, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

So, now here you both were, standing at the bottom of the subway stairs as the first train came squealing to a stop in front of you. Five wasn’t sure this was a good idea. He wanted this, but just because he had made his way out before didn’t guarantee that he’d be able to do it a second time. If you became lost in time, unable to get back home, he’d never forgive himself.

With a worried glance back at you, he saw that gleam in your eye that only meant one thing, and fuck, he was not a strong enough man to resist that look. Biting at his lip with hesitation, because he knew he shouldn’t be risking this, he gave in. When the doors slid open, he took your hand and led you inside.

The car was warm in contrast to the chilly platform. As it started to pull away, while some unintelligible voice that sounded awfully familiar spoke overhead, the hum of the train and the darkness of the tunnel created a false sense of security. As Five sat down, he spread his legs just enough to convey what he wanted. Then he looked up at you, settling into the seat like a king on his throne, resting his arms across the back, and raising an eyebrow. You knew what that look meant without any words being spoken.

Get over here. Now.

You obeyed his silent command, and you stood in front of him while his hand roamed up your bare thigh and under your skirt. You had specifically chosen to not wear any underwear today, and when his fingers grazed your bare ass, he smirked; clearly pleased with your wardrobe decision.

“On your knees,” he said plainly.

Dropping down onto the hard and dirty train floor, you rested your hands on his thighs. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Five shrugged off his overcoat and began unbuckling his belt. Just the sound of the clinking metal made your mouth water and your pussy ache. As he freed his hard cock, stroking it a few times, you licked your lips.

“Go ahead, honey. Make Daddy proud.”

There was nothing to say to that, and it didn’t matter anyway, because a second later your mouth was filled with his thick cock. Hissing through clenched teeth, Five dropped his head back. You knew how to drive him crazy by sucking hard on the head and using your hands to stroke his shaft and fondle his balls. The rocking of the train helped you out, and you moved your head up and down with the steady rhythm. Lights would pass over and then disappear again, creating a hypnotic effect over both of you. When you looked up, he was watching you again, those steely green eyes piercing right through you. 

“God, you’re so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he moaned, petting your hair gently while you choked and gagged on his dick.

Hearing him praise you like that would have soaked your panties if you had been wearing any, so instead you felt a warm trickle of wetness slide down your inner thigh. You increased your pace, quickening your hand and hollowing your cheeks to suck him off as hard as possible.

Five’s groans were growing louder and you focused on every beautiful sound that came out of his mouth. The way his breath caught in his throat, the thick swallows, the sharp gasps of air drawn in between the quiet whimpers you knew he was trying to hide. With his hand on the back of your head, he sank lower into his seat, opening his legs wider and thrusting his hips into your face.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmured through clenched teeth as his fingers flexed in your hair. “Keep going, just like that, honey. You know how Daddy likes it.”

Removing your hand from around his shaft, you took his entire length into your mouth, shoving it down your throat with each bob of your head, and expertly working through your gag reflex. This was nowhere near the first blow job you had given him, and it certainly wouldn’t be your last. He loved watching you kneeling before him, worshipping his perfect cock with your hot mouth. But doing it here, in this weird, supernatural traincar, while your bare knees ached from the hard floor and you had no idea where you were going to end up… that just made it all the more erotic.

You could tell by the higher-pitched grunts and erratic thrusts of his hips that he was about done. With his cock slicked with your spit, you removed your mouth and started to jerk him off fast and hard, sliding your fist up and down at a frantic pace while Five let go of your hair. His eyes closed and lips parted as he let out a long, low moan.

“Fffff-UCK!” he cried out, right before he released himself to your amazing handwork.

Long ropes of cum spurted out of his twitching cock and into your open and waiting mouth. You lapped up the bitter-tasting semen, swallowing as much of it as you could, while the rest dripped down your chin and neck, and covered the front of your dress in white streaks.

As the last few drops were expelled, and Five’s hips stilled and then relaxed into the seat again, he let out a long sigh. When you let go of his slowly softening dick, you sat back on your heels and licked your lips and then the palm of your hand as you stared up at him with a coy smile.

“How was that, Daddy?” you asked, resting your chin on his knee as you blinked up at him.

“So damn good, darling,” he breathed out.

As you stood up and Five started to pack himself into his pants again, the train began to slow as it approached the next stop. You held onto the pole while the brakes screeched loudly and that same odd voice spoke gibberish through the speaker. You peered out of the grimy windows, trying to read the large neon sign that was just outside the platform. 

“Where are we now?” you asked, a little worried.

You had been hoping to stay on the train for a little while longer. Your groin was still throbbing and dripping wet, and you had assumed he would be repaying you for your generous service in the form of either his mouth or cock. Or both.

But when Five stood up and took your hand, the doors opened and he started to lead you out. You hesitated at the door, poking your head out and staring curiously at the sign that you could now read clearly.

“Max’s? What is this place?”

To your surprise, Five grinned widely in that way that meant he was up to something. Then he pulled you onto the platform, taking your chin in his hand and kissing you long enough that when he pulled away you whined a little at the loss of his lips on yours.

“Five, my dress is covered in your cum and I am not wearing any panties. I was also kind of hoping you’d you know…” you pointed to your much-neglected crotch region. “... Take care of this for me.”

He chuckled, pulling you along as he headed for the weird, random deli up ahead. “Come on, darling, I think you’ll like this place. They’ll take real good care of you here.” He looked back at you with a smirk. “And don’t worry about your dress… it’s about to get a lot dirtier.”

***************************

Thank you for this ask, this was fun!! ❤️

If you'd like to check another amazing sexy Five one-shot, featuring some very sexy artwork based off of a couple naughty pics that are included in the original post, @kaybreezy3000's Lips Of Wine will not disappoint 😉

[mourning-again-in-america]

Inspired by a recent (I assume) throwaway post from a popular leftwing blogger in these circles

Many people bemoan, in this age, various forms of disinformation, misinformation, malinformation, etc., but I think the best phrase that properly sums up the phenomenon is "context collapse", altho I would like to ignore the brouhaha that brought that phrase some popularity.

An example: Neal Katyal, a highly regarded establishment lawyer for the Democratic Party, who also does a bunch of high-dollar appellate legal practice incl arguing in front of the Supreme Court (not unsurprising, given his role as former acting solicitor general, see similarly Paul Clement), argued a case on behalf of Nestlé regarding a tricky and yet-unsolved attempted application of the Alien Tort Statute, which allows people who were harmed due to violations of international law to recover damages.

The alleged violation of international law at issue was the aiding and abetting of child slavery, child slavery itself being obviously outside the bounds of international law, but things are not as clear as to the precise inquiry required for aiding and abetting, for the simple reason that nothing is particularly clear in international law. That being said, Katyal did not argue that aiding and abetting was an insufficient theory of liability, nor did he argue that Nestlé's behavior failed to rise to the exact standard required under international law; nay, he argued that the American law should not be enforced in American courts for things that were done overseas by non-Americans (ish) to non-Americans, a rather popular and common form of argument in the modern moment, and about the liability of corporate persons (rather than natural persons) under the statute -- a complex issue given that this is about implied federal common-law causes of actions & their jurisdiction, arising under a statute passed by the First Congress!

But no, it is so much easier to simply say that Katyal was "defending child slavery", for indeed, his quality advocacy before the Court likely decreased the incentives pushing against the rampant use of child slavery in the Global South by USAmerican corporations, but this is just as true as the truth that zealous advocacy for murderers in front of a court will likely decrease the incentives against committing murder -- does that mean that we should condemn those who do so? We don't want more murder, we don't want more child slavery! But to that, I say that we should invest more in asymmetric informational weaponry, and occluding the truth, sweeping the complexifications I noted above under the rug hardly help in that project.

[catenary-chad]

Here’s some links about amusement park trains (mostly US and mostly steam, it’s actually really hard to find much on non-steam ones)

Outdated but extensive list of Crown Metal Products trains

Relatively current list of only their steam engines

General amusement park trains site, dated but very thorough with what it has, lots of photos

The wikipedia list of amusement park railroads is very incomplete but a decent starting point for non-Disney parks with historic trains

(funny fact: I thought Hersheypark’s train was a fake with some attention to detail sound/motion wise…. it is not, just very small and clean burning)

[pathologicalreid]

Hii I am making a Spencer Reid x citizen! F reader. They have been dating for a really long time but for a while reader has been dealing with a stalker, suddenly the stalker becomes much more violent and maybe even kidnaps her if we want to get real cray cray. Just lots of protective reid and angst to comfort!!

don't lose your head | S.R.

a stalker uses your work as a tudor history professor to follow your every move, so you go to the only place you can think of for help - the BAU

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: professor!reader, fiance!spencer, erotomaniac stalker, lots of tudor history facts, kidnapping, decapitation, happy ending, s11 (post-maeve), guns, death, spencer feels a lot of guilt, unhelpful police, exhaustion, nausea, dry heaving word count: 3.71k a/n: yall if i wanted to make this into a series would you read it 😭 i had so much fun writing this!!! and yes the title is a reference to six! thank you sooo much for requesting!!

you

You told Spencer after the fourth note. While the first two had been near your office door – harmless enough to have been brushed off as a student prank, the third note had been left on your desk. When someone had gotten into your locked office to leave you an intense love letter, you knew you were out of your depth.

After years of hearing stories about the BAU needing to battle the chain of command, you thought the best thing to do was to first go to the campus police. You were a professor, so the natural assumption was that they’d look into it.

They didn’t even take a report. No one listened to you.

From the campus police, you went into the city police, then the county, and by the time you marched into DC Metro, you hadn’t slept in a day. Spencer was in Utah on a case, and you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Once DC Metro told you there was nothing they could do without an open investigation or further evidence, you went back to your apartment.

The fourth note was there waiting for you, covering the camera that you kept on your front door.

Since you had the first three notes already in your bag, you plucked the newest one from where it was stationed on the front door and stuffed it in with the others before making the trip down to Quantico.

You had no idea when the team would be back, but the security guards at the front desk recognized you from the times you’d come to pick Spencer up or bring him lunch and they let you up anyway.

There were no notifications on your phone from Spencer letting you know that they were flying home, but the only place you felt safe was in their headquarters. The idea of going to see Penelope crossed your mind, but as a profiler-adjacent, she’d likely see right through you. You never dropped by, especially not when Spencer was away.

Settling yourself at his desk, you pulled an empty manila folder from a drawer, placed the notes neatly inside, and left it on Spencer’s desk before sitting in his chair and waiting for something to happen.

“Hey, Reid,” you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Slowly, you spun the chair around and looked at the team as they filtered in the glass doors.

Confused, Spencer tilted his head at you, clearly wondering why you were staking out the bullpen as he approached you. As he got closer, he observed the bags under your eyes, bloodshot from your lack of sleep over the last few days, “What’s wrong?”

Chewing on the inside of your lip, you clutched the folder like your life depended on it – for all you knew, it did. Your eyes followed Spencer as he knelt in front of you, accepting the folder when you handed it to him, “I think I’m in trouble,” you whispered, voice raspy from lack of use.

Your fiancé flipped through the pages, reading each of them a few times while you garnered attention from other members of the BAU. Tara, Derek, and JJ all crowded around Spencer’s desk, curious on your surprise appearance.

“I…” you faltered as you tried to explain what felt inexplicable. “The first one was folded over the doorknob of my office, the second one was slid beneath the door to my office, the third one was left on my desk, and the fourth one,” you glanced nervously at Spencer, “it was on the apartment door.”

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, “apartment door? Our apartment door?” As he questioned you, he stood up, leaving you with four federal agents staring down at you.

Despondently, you nodded, steepling your fingers in your lap and letting your shoulders droop.

“I’ll go get Hotch,” JJ said, nodding at everyone else to confirm her intentions before turning around, making her way up the steps to Hotch’s office.

From there, you ended up in the roundtable room. Tara had personally brought the letters for the lab to be checked for prints, and the techs had sent Garcia scans that were now projected on the screen. Each member of the team had them up on tablets, but you and Spencer knew the words by heart.

Shaking her head, Tara looked up at everyone, “I mean, who writes like this anymore? ‘But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself up body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant,” she shrugged, continuing to look over the letters.

“They’re love letters,” you explained, tugging the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your palms before crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “The words aren’t original, they’re all passages from the love letters of Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn.”

Pointing to something on her screen, JJ frowned, “And what does his greeting mean? He always starts with ‘my rose without a thorn’.”

Nodding dejectedly, you focused your eyes on the now-empty manila folder on the table in front of you. “That was what Henry VIII called Catherine Howard, she was his youngest wife. It’s widely accepted among scholars that she was around seventeen when they got married, but others say she could’ve been as young as fifteen,” you answered, wondering if more details would help the investigation.

“So, we have Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, which wives were those?” Rossi asked, looking around the table for someone who knew the answer.

In the middle of scrawling something on an evidence board, Spencer answered quickly, “Two and five.”

Folding your hands in your lap, you scoured your memory for anything that could be helpful. When Hotch asked if those numbers meant everything to you, you just shook your head. “Is there any significance to the two wives he chose being Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard?”

Your lips parted in surprise as the blood drained from your face, “They were the two wives who were beheaded.”

An eerie silence fell over the room, interrupted only by a chime from Penelope’s laptop, her shoulders slumped forward in abject disappointment, “The lab didn’t find anything on the letters. No prints, no hair… nothing, but uh…” her voice trailed off as she looked up at Hotch, it was almost like she was seeking permission.

Each member of the BAU looked at each other with the same concerned expression on their faces. “What do you all know that I don’t?”

“Two bodies turned up last week in the greater DC area,” Morgan was the brave soul who spoke up, “they were both missing their heads, and they were both college professors.”

Goosebumps spread over your entire body, a chill of fear causing the tip of your nose to feel cold, “Oh, I…” you fumbled over your words, standing up from your chair and rushing to leave the roundtable, nearly throwing yourself out of the bullpen on your way to the women’s restroom.

Entering one of the stalls, you haphazardly gathered your hair at the back of your head and you dry heaved into the toilet. You dropped to your knees as nothing came out.

A knock at the door barely garnered your attention, you didn’t even bother responding as Spencer was already entering the stall, “Oh, honey.”

That was it, you sat back on your heels as tears welled in your eyes, looking up at Spencer as he sat down next to you. Immediately, you turned your body to face him and leaned forward.

Welcomingly, Spencer grabbed you, firmly wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you into his lap, “I have you. I’m right here.” His voice was gentle, no more than a whisper as he kept a firm pressure around your body, “You’re safe with me,” he reassured you, using one hand to keep you upright and the other to rub your back as you cried.

Your face was buried in the crook of his neck as you wept, the sensation of fear ran through your body like electricity, and you felt content for the first time in days in the safety of Spencer’s arms. “I- I just teach. I’m n- not built for this,” you cried, words slightly muffled by his shoulder.

You were a history professor, teaching a course on the six wives of Henry VIII, this was never even in the realm of things you considered when putting together your syllabus.

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled away from Spencer, and he reached behind you for a wad of toilet paper to dry your face. “Spence,” you said, though it came out as more of a whimper.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands while he studied your exhausted expression.

Shrugging, you shuffled off of him, dropping the wad of toilet paper in the bowl and flushing it, “A day? Two?” You weren’t entirely sure what day it currently was, the events of the last few had caused everything to sort of blend together.

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Okay,” he responded, slipping his phone out of his pocket before typing something out, “Why don’t you go lie down in Morgan’s office for a little while? He won’t mind.”

You blinked a few final tears from your eyes before affirming, “Yeah, uh. I need to grab something from my car.”

“Okay, are you parked in the garage? I’ll go down with you,” he offered, getting up and lending you a hand up, mumbling about the state of the bathroom floor as he did so.

After washing your hands, the two of you made your way through the hall and to the elevator before Garcia called out for Reid, “Hotch needs you for something, he said it’s urgent.”

Glancing back at you, he pursed his lips before selecting a lower-level special agent to go with you to the parking garage. “Be right back,” you told him as you stepped onto the elevator.

him

Once he was finished with Hotch, Spencer made his way back down the hallway, expecting to find yourself settling in Morgan’s office only to find it empty. Turning back in the hallway, he nearly bulldozed into Morgan and JJ, “Hey, what’s the rush?”

“Have either of you seen Y/N?” He asked, trying not to let panic rise in his voice, but there had been ample time for you to get to the parking garage and back. You should’ve been back by now.

The two of them shared a look, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her since she left the roundtable room. Is she alright?” JJ asked, blue eyes filled with concern.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Spencer hit the number one on speed dial – your number – and brought the phone to his ear before rushing to the elevator and moving to the side as JJ and Morgan piled in with him. Frantically pushing the button for the parking level, he cursed as the phone went to voicemail.

“Reid, what is it?” Morgan asked as the elevator started moving down.

Redialing your number, Spencer muttered to himself, hoping you’d pick up, “I sent her down with an agent. Hotch needed my apartment key so that Tara and Rossi could go look for anything.”

As the steel doors opened, the three of them drew their firearms, each of them taking a different direction when Spencer realized he didn’t even know where you had parked your car. “We have an agent down,” Morgan called out, calling Garcia and putting the phone on speaker. “Baby girl, we need medical and crime scene techs down to the lower-level parking garage,” he said into the phone.

“Spencer,” JJ called out, garnering his attention as he made his way through the garage to where JJ and Morgan were now stood, Morgan was applying pressure on Agent Franks’ wound, and JJ was looking at a car.

The passenger door to your car was open, and the vehicle was chiming as an alert to get you to close the door. As he stepped forward, something glimmered at the edge of his vision. Crouching down, he picked up your engagement ring from the cement, “He’s got her,” he said, a wave of déjà vu nearly toppling him over.

Impatiently waiting for the elevator to take him back up to the sixth floor, Spencer trudged to the roundtable room, desperate for another look at the evidence board. The dates of each letter that you had received, the content of each letter, and the reason for all of this didn’t make any sense to him.

It had to be an erotomaniac, it was the only thing that made sense. You were an object of someone’s desires, and their delusion had to have become so strong that they took you.

Quietly, someone stepped into the roundtable room behind him, “What are you thinking about?”

Imminent death. Statistics of harm and death in cases involving erotomanic kidnappings. “Synchronicity,” he answered simply, entertaining JJ’s conversation as he continued to study the letters. The love letters were at the core of it all, so the answer needed to be written in there. Everything that had come to you was almost an exact copy of words written by Henry VIII.

“Ah, that’s Jung, right?” JJ asked, her voice was kind, and she was using the same tone she used when doing cognitive interviews with victims. He didn’t have time for her pity, they were on a clock.

Sighing, Spencer picked his dry-erase marker back up and scrawled on the board, “It’s a concept that he introduced, yes. It’s meant to describe the occurrence of events which seem like they’re significantly related but there’s no discernable causation.”

JJ nodded understandingly, taking a spot next to him and looking at the notes, “And what occurrence of events are we thinking about right now?”

“I suppose more than anything, I’m wondering if there’s an action that I took in the past that somehow caused me to find myself in this situation twice,” he answered, circling the word ‘the place chosen by yourself’ on the evidence board.

Humming, JJ turned to face him, “Does Y/N know?”

Pressing his lips together in a thin, white line, he nodded tightly, “I told her years ago, when we had first started dating, actually. I never thought…” his voice trailed off as he set down the marker, “She came to me, JJ. She came here to be safe, and he grabbed her from the parking garage.”

“You sent her down there with an agent, you thought you were doing the right thing,” JJ tried to comfort him.

Scoffing dismissively, he stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs, “I can’t stop thinking about if it would’ve made a difference. If her asking me for help would have fixed anything, or if it would have ended the same way.”

Taking a seat near him, JJ paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words, before responding, “We can’t really afford to think like that though, in our line of work.”

Spencer scoffed, “No, we can’t. Especially not now, but the timing of it is weird. It’s been almost exactly four years, and now…” his voice trailed off as his eye caught on something on the paper. “The timing is off,” he muttered, picking up the first letter you had received.

“What is it, Spence?” JJ asked, tilting her head to the side curiously.

Shaking his head, he read the letter again, “This letter, it’s from the first letter Henry VIII wrote to Anne Boleyn, but in this version, he says he’s been waiting for months to be with her, but they waited seven years to be together because they were waiting for his marriage to Catherine of Aragon to be annulled.”

Still confused, JJ leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, “Okay, what does that mean.”

“We ruled out a student because the crimes didn’t read as mature, but what if it’s a different kind of student?” He proposed, standing up from the chair abruptly and starting to write on the board.

Rolling her chair closer to the board, she shrugged, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

Holding up a single finger, Spencer wrote a name down on the board, “Y/N has a grad student TA, he’s been working toward his PhD for seven years. He’s been her TA for three months – that lines up with the timeline in the letters.”

“Okay,” JJ said, starting to follow along, she waved at the team members in the bullpen to get their attention before hitting the call button on the conference phone. “Penelope, what do you have on a Geoffrey Williamson? He’s a TA in Y/N’s class.”

There was typing on the other line before a sound of disgust came from the technical analyst, “He is a different kind of smarmy, it looks like he transferred programs two years ago to Y/N’s university after he… oh. It looks like he bounced from foster home to foster home as a kid, his parents never fully gave up their rights but couldn’t follow through on their case plan. He was unsuccessful in his last dissertation defense three months ago,” she continued clacking on her keyboard, “after which his mentor teacher dropped him and the school gave him one more semester before pulling his funding. He asked Y/N to be his new mentor teacher and it looks like she turned him down -very nicely, might I add.”

Scoffing, Morgan crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That sounds like a stressor and a trigger if I’ve ever heard one.

“Garcia,” Hotch spoke into the phone, “Do you have a location for Williamson?”

There was more typing as Spencer could feel his carotid pounding in his throat, “It looks like he lives in student housing, but… he recently inherited an old factory after his biological father passed away two weeks ago.”

Nodding, Hotch looked around the table, “Send us the address, and forward it to Rossi and Lewis too.”

“Done, go get her,” Penelope urged into the phone before hanging up.

He slipped your engagement ring into his pocket before adjusting the strap on his Kevlar, thrumming with nervous energy as Morgan coordinated with SWAT, waiting outside of the old textile factory as the tactical team organized themselves in front of the BAU.

Spencer and JJ took the left side, Rossi and Tara took the right, and Morgan and Hotch went through the main doors.

“No!” Your voice broke out through the steel corridors of the factory, immediately followed by a yelp.

There was an awful noise then, like metal scraping against itself, “Fucking say it!” An unfamiliar male voice broke out in a holler.

Steeling himself, Spencer had to hold himself back from rushing into the room where your voice was coming from, each one of your sobs was like another strike at his resolve. “Good Christian people,” he heard you say, your voice was strained, “I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to- to-“ Your voice broke off into a heap of wails.

“What is she saying?” JJ whispered, waiting for SWAT to clear the corridor.

All of the blood had drained from Spencer’s face, “She’s reciting Anne Boleyn’s execution speech, from right before she was beheaded.”

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation – they needed to get in there, and they needed to do it quickly. SWAT waved them over, and the two of them filtered through the open doorway. The space was dimly illuminated by candles, but the only thing Spencer could focus on was your head, bowed toward the ground as you watched the ground. Above you, Geoffrey was holding a sword, ready to cut your head off.

“Geoffrey Williamson, FBI!” JJ called out, announcing themselves to the UnSub before he could get any further in his convoluted execution, “Put the sword down! Let Y/N go.”

Spencer clocked the UnSub’s grip tightening on the sword as he zeroed in on you, “I can’t! She has to pay for this! She has to finish the speech.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but as you raised your head slightly, he found himself silenced by your gaze. Roll, he mouthed the words to you, hoping Williamson was too focused on JJ to notice what he was trying to tell you.

“And by the law I am judged to die,” you continued the speech, your voice wavering.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer watched as the UnSub raised the sword despite JJ’s instructions to set it on the ground, “Y/N, stop talking!”

Releasing another sob, you finished the execution speech, “And therefore I will speak nothing against it.”

As soon as the last word was out of your mouth, Williamson brought the sword down, and as it swung, two things happened. JJ pulled the trigger on her firearm, killing the UnSub, and you rolled out of the way, the chains that bound your hands and feet clanging on the ground as you did so.

Holstering his weapon, Spencer ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you, “It’s done. It’s over,” he tried to reassure you, but you had begun struggling against your restraints as Spencer tried to settle you down, “Stop, it’s me, baby. Baby, it’s me,” he said desperately.

Once you had maneuvered yourself into a sitting position, you looked at Spencer with big, watery eyes before completely breaking down. “I just wanted it to end,” you babbled as your face crumpled.

“I know, honey,” he said, reaching out to pull you close as JJ contacted the rest of the team, asking for a chain cutter to get your restraints off of you as they weren’t able to find the keys on the body. “He’s gone, you’re safe,” he urged, holding you tightly.

You weren’t seriously injured, but there were enough bumps and bruises to make Spencer insist on a trip to the hospital. Until the EMTs could make it to you, he was fine with holding you on the floor of the factory. Keeping you close. Keeping you safe with him.

[crescenthistory]

Hi I really love your fics and was hoping to send in a request! I was thinking a fem!reader who’s also a swan animagus, and partners with any or all of the marauders (minus Pete). She’s a very clumsy person, constantly stubbing her toes and bumbing into corners and walls, so when the boys find out that her animagus form is something so graceful they’re just baffled. That’s all I got really, so with that as you please if you please ❤️

this was such a sweet request darling, thank you so much<3 i made this into a general view of what her animagus process looked like + the boys' reactions to what she became

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, remus' pov, loads of anxiety and fearing for safety of a loved one, post-hogwarts with references to oncoming political turmoil but it is not canon compliant, reader is regulus' best friend, flirty bullying lol, mostly fluff and some hurt/comfort

Note: this is my first official poly!marauders fic, and i absolutely adore writing their dynamic

When you began your animagus journey, Remus was unsure of what to expect.

Back when James, Sirius and Peter did it, none of their animagus figures came as a surprise, the picturesque manifestations of the personalities Remus had come to love. Sirius, the loyal guard dog, looming and intimidating in your periphery or on the battlefield, but playful and loving by the fire in his own home. James, the noble and brave Head Boy turned stag, equal parts beautiful and fierce, able to balance out and maintain the worst and best in the rest of the boys. Peter, the quiet and mousy dry-humoured boy they came to love much in the same way you love your pet rat, slippery and smart, able to wield what he has to his advantage. All of it made sense to Remus, which provided a balm for the anxiety that settled in his chest at the thought of the lengths his friends and partners were willing to go for him.

With you though, nothing seemed to make sense. Never really had, it was just right somehow.

You came in later in the Gryffindor friend group, a year younger than the rest of them and best friends with Regulus. It was seemingly a buy one, get two deal when Regulus was finally able to escape the Black household and join Sirius at Potter Manor at last. He refused to leave you behind, knowing all too well what it felt like. Neither Sirius nor James could argue with that, and Remus quickly found he didn't want them to.

No, because when you were integrated into the friend group, hesitant for a mere second – mostly out of respect for Regulus it seemed – before allowing your full personality to prosper at its natural breadwidth, Remus was infatuated. You weasled your way into his heart, knocking against every surface on the way there, leaving him breathless.

He was beyond relieved to look at his two boys – his two lovely boys – and see the same longing in their eyes.

In a relationship that already housed a half-blood half-breed, a disgraced son of a most ancient and noble house and a blood-traitor himbo-jock, Remus had not fathomed there would be room for one more. Until that one was you in all your clumsy-bodied warm-hearted glory – then suddenly, it was unfathomable not to have you.

Despite his shock, Remus found himself quite pleased when finally sat in your shared flat a year after Hogwarts, with you held securely in his arms while Sirius and James were commuting home together from their apprenticeships as aurors at the Ministry. The picture of domesticity. The life he never dared imagine. With your scent filling his nose and your cheek pressed against the skin of Remus' throat, he was sure there was nothing else he could ask for.

"I did something today," you murmured absentmindedly then, trailing patterns on his arm, careful not to snag him with the edge of your nail that broke a few hours earlier that he had not bothered filing down yet.

"Mhm, and what was that, dove?" he replied in the same tone, only half-paying attention as he drowsed in the warmth of you.

"I applied to become an animagus."

Suddenly, Remus was no longer tired nor warm nor comfortable nor nuzzled into your hair as he jerked back to look at you in shock.

"You did what?" His voice somehow didn't convey his immediate turmoil, but he's sure his eyes did as you bit your lip sheepishly.

"I applied with the Ministry to become an animagus," you restated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Dumbledore's suggestion. Though if one person in our household is properly registered, it could be easier to avoid any suspicion should the order need you to utilise it more often."

The rest of the night was spent with you explaining what was surely a sound and reasonable plan, but that still lit Remus' veins alight with fire. As was the next few weeks, awaiting the pending response, spent with you and James – who quickly jumped onboard, eager to support you – reassuring Remus and in part Sirius that the plan was sound and reasonable and you would be fine.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think you have zero faith in me," you joked one evening when you were all cuddled up on the sofa.

"It's not that I don't trust you, dovey," Remus began despondently.

Sirius preferred to cut to the chase with a deadpan. “We just prefer for our darling girl who has never once gone a day without a single bruise to not be undertaking dangerous magical transformations that largely depend upon precision.”

"I have gone a day," you muttered petulantly at that, to which James began rubbing your arms up and down whispering something in your ear about "pick battles we can win, angel".

Remus smiled a bit hesitantly at the sight of his two loves sat opposite him, while he himself was currently held in Sirius' arms and unable to see his face. He could, however, feel the tension in his grip though, likely at the thought of all that could go wrong.

"I understand why it has to be done," Remus started. "And you know I support you always, dove. I just can't help but worry."

You cooed at what Remus was sure was a slight pout on his face before leaning forward out of James' arms to kiss it off him. At that, a genuine smile spread across his lips and into your kiss, breathing you in as a sign of defeat.

"I may stumble, but I can do difficult things, my love," you whispered, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "And with you here, I'll always be alright, won't I?"

"I suppose," Remus faux grumbled, to which James leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

"You are so cute," James all but exclaimed. "So, so cute."

"Alright Jamie, that's enough of that," Remus tried but James kept on playing with his hair, though with slower movements.

"Look at you caring for our little clutz." You let out an undignified "hey" at that. "With big Moony on watch, we will never have to worry."

"And big Padfoot!" Sirius exclaimed from behind Remus, causing the latter to roll his eyes fondly at the boy's not-so-fake fear of missing out.

James caught it too with a hearty laugh, slipping off the sofa to slide to the floor beside Sirius with a soft "of course, baby" before littering his face with a sickening amount of kisses.

As Remus watched you giggle, he pulled you closer. Sickening indeed he thought as he stared down at you with overwhelming love in his throat.

The cycle of worry and reassurance continued well into the animagus process when your application was approved, which Remus suspected Dumbledore also had a hand in. Though, for these, you often couldn't reassure him as much with your words, with the mandrake leaf and everything, but James was your perfect advocate, speech ready on his lips, and your hand never strayed far from Remus' body, keeping his anxiety at bay.

When you fell down the stairs one day or when you ran into doors, Remus' breath caught in his throat like never before, the implications of your clumsiness far more prominent than ever before. You were always alright, and Remus knew he just had kept telling himself that until it was over.

You're alright, you're alright, you're alright. A mantra, a prayer.

"She will be alright, right Siri?" A broken sob into his lover's chest on nights you were away to complete the process.

"Always, always, always." A murmured response that weighed a tonne in his chest.

He never did tell you about those nights, he knew you didn't deserve the guilt or the fretting that would overtake you at the knowledge, not when you were doing something to support your loves, your family, your cause. He could never tell you that while you, in all your clumsy chaos, was being brave, he was being a coward.

And you never did tell him that you knew, that you saw, but you held him closer the nights following them.

While one the precipice of oncoming political collapse, one is rarely allowed full reprieve from anxiety, but Remus found himself washed with immeasurable relief and calm when the front door opened on the final night and he heard two sets of boots and laughter as you and James walked into your flat.

The lightning storm in the background required for the final night of the process was still raging outside, but your flat might as well be on another planet for all Remus cared because you were inside, you were alright and you were laughing. 

Only James could follow you to it, as you had to go through the very final bit alone and Sirius convinced Remus you should be surrounded with calm and reassurance before you took those last steps alone. He agreed, always wanting what was best for you, but it did not help his roaring fears to not be able to go with you.

Thus, the homebound boys immediately shot up at the sound from where they had been anxiously perched on each their chair in the living room, running towards the front door. The latter placed his hand pacifyingly on Remus' shoulder, a silent I'm here, it's alright, she’s alright.

You were.

You were alright.

You were also being laughed at, they now realised.

Chucking off your boots, drenched to the core with hair plastered to your face, you looked awfully displeased with James who - equally as drenched but thrice as enthusiastic - was bent over against the wall, face scrunched up with delight. Remus supposed some of the water drops trailing down his face were actually tears of laughter.

"It's not that funny, James," you grumbled, but the twitch in your lips gave away that perhaps it was.

Ignoring whatever petty squabble for half a minute, Sirius swept you up in a hug and twirled you around, the squelch of your clothes and your own giggle filling the room. "My love!" he exclaimed with glee. "Oh you did it my darling, you did it."

Remus walked towards your embrace with reverence, laughing a bit wetly with relief. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes he wasn't sure if he could take it – and then you opened your arm to invite him into your hug, and he knew he couldn't.

With a shaky breath, Remus let himself fall into you with a few tears rolling down his face and an immense smile across his lips. He murmured some sweet nothings into your hairline that not even he could quite make out.

Pulling back just enough to see your now-wide grin, he kissed you searingly in the exact way he had dreamed of doing on this day.

Safe in his arms, at last.

At the thought, he could almost hear you whisper back that you always were.

"Thank you," Remus whispers against your lips. "Thank you."

"What for?" you laugh back into him.

He opens his eyes to gaze warmly into yours. "For being okay. For being brave."

A soft cooing sound escaped you as you gave him another lingering kiss that seemed to promise you always will be. He felt Sirius' lips drift between each of your foreheads, an eternal comfort in all of Remus' worry, even when he had his own.

"Is this the part where you lie to me and say you knew I could always do it?" you tease as you look between the two boys pressed up against you.

At the same time, Sirius gives you a resounding "yes" while Remus shakes his head at you with a laugh.

"It's not a lie," he begins, continuing despite your light scoff. "I always knew you could, you can do anything you set your mind to. I just love you too much not to freak out about the what ifs."

"You absolute sap," Sirius laughs at him, resulting in you slapping his arm lightly in defence of Remus.

"Do you disagree with him?" you question with a raised brow, challenging smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius' humour was washed away to be replaced with soft fondness. "Of course not, doll."

Behind you, James cleared his throat.

The three of you turned around to see your final boy leaning against the wall, admiration written clearly across his face as he took in the picture before him with heart eyes. It didn't escape Remus, though, that you tensed in his arms beside him nor that James had one of his most mischievous smiles across his face.

"Yeah, angel, we are all super duper proud of you now and forever and always." James says it in a way that makes Remus suspicious he has already told you as much a hundred times over while you were out together. "Now can we skip to the fun bit?"

You groan, throwing your head back against Sirius' shoulder – who whispered a petulant ow! – and promptly pulled out of their grasp. Remus tried to focus on whatever bit was about to come from James to ignore the feeling of loss.

"Fine, but I am going to need so much flattery from you after this relentless bullying, Mister." You threatened as you pointed your wand at James, first in replacement of an accusatory finger, and then to vanish the water from his person. You did yourself the same favour, then grabbed Remus' hand to direct your boys to the living room and its wonderful fireplace that Sirius kept alive for you while you were gone.

"You know I will, baby!" James called after you as he grabbed some water bottles from the fridge on the way to follow you, handing one to you unprompted.

"Now? What's so funny?" Sirius asked impatiently as he perched himself on the end of the sofa, directly in front of where you and Remus stood before the fire.

James' grin came back in full force as he looked at you devilishly. "Can I be the one to tell them?" At least he had the decency to ask you.

"You're the one who thinks it's so bloody funny, so you ought to." Remus chuckled at you, pulling you closer into his side, protecting you from James for once.

"So we all know that your lovely, lovely girl here does not have the best track record when it comes to, you know, general spatial awareness?"

Sirius barked a laugh at that and Remus had to pull you back from kicking his shin, resulting in you stumbling slightly. You shot him a half-hearted glare that seemed to scream don't prove his point!

"Yeah," Remus agreed readily, shooting you a smug smile at the betrayal.

"I have yet to meet a table she can outsmart." Sirius nodded solemnly.

This all seemed to excite James even further. "Right! Or a cart she can't run over her foot, or a door handle she can't smash against her hip, or a staircase that won't make her eat-"

"Okay, okay!" You threw your hands up in defeat. "We get your point, Jamie, gods."

James' smile almost turned rueful, but your cute expression was not really helping your case here. Remus couldn't blame him as James reached out to pinch at your chin.

"And we love you all the more for it, angel, really."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, waving his hand away and placing more weight against Remus. "Get to it, Potter."

"Moony, Pads," James said, looking at them with levity, as if he was about to disclose serious news. "Our beautiful little klutz is a swan animagus."

There was silence for two seconds, as Sirius' jaw fell on the floor and Remus' eyes widened. Remus regretted to disclose that he was the first to break it as he snorted a laugh, prompting Sirius to immediately match James' previous hysterics, clapping his hands together.

"No way!" he laughed as you crossed your arms in further petulance.

"A swan?" Remus questioned with mirth to no one in particular.

"A swan!" James confirmed excitedly.

"And what about it?" you grumbled, stepping back so you could more easily glare at all three boyfriends at once. "What's so so funny about it?"

"It's nothing, dove, it's just-" Remus' placating was undercut by him laughing through it "- swans are know to be, like, elegant."

"I can be elegant!" you retorted. Sirius just snorted at you. "I can be!" you continued, nodding your head in that endearing way you do when you try to insist.

"You certainly look elegant," James relented. "But, my absolute love, you are anything but."

"Again, stairs." Sirius said it as if the word "stairs" in and of itself was an argument. Knowing your past, it most certainly was.

"Grace and elegance are often considered opposites of clumsiness and incoordination, dovey," Remus explained.

"I know that," you seethed in response, but the fight was already running out of you.

"It's just a tad bit ironic, isn't it?" James fought to calm his laughter.

Sirius did no such thing. "Understatement of the year, Prongs."

"Maybe the grace my animagus refers to has something to do with my inner grace in handling you lot," you grumbled, to which James cooed – effectively not helping his case. "And they represent wisdom and understanding, not to mention that they bite so you watch yourselves now." Your glare was withering as you couldn't help but laugh a little at your own joke.

With another breath of laughter, Sirius rose from his seat to reach for you in a hug, but you stepped out of the way. "No hugs for rude boys," you said simply.

"Oh, come on dollface, let me appreciate our little swan." You put up little effort as Sirius tucked you under his chin, chest still rumbling with laughter. “I just cannot believe you're a swan, baby."

"I can," Remus said, letting affection take over the humour in his voice once more. "They represent love too, you know."

James' face scrunched up in laughter as he roughly pulled the wolf into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "You're killing me, Moons, you can't say stuff like that."

"Why the hell not?" Remus grumbled all the while holding James tighter, eyes trained on you and Sirius.

"Because I’ll love you too much." At that, Remus laughed, kissing James' cheek softly.

"Regardless of any humour and irony, you did something incredibly difficult, dove. We're so proud of you." This was not just placation, Remus believed it with his whole chest. You could evidently tell as you almost shied into Sirius' chest.

James walked his embrace with Remus towards you and Sirius, so you were all standing close to one another in front of the sparkling fire.

"Is it okay to say I'm really proud of myself too?" you asked then with a slight self-conscious smile.

Sirius shut down any insecurity with the searing kiss he pressed to your forehead. "Of course, baby. It would be a tragedy if you weren't."

Remus could feel James tilt his head in thought. He couldn't help but pry. "What is it, Prongs?"

"Just that," James began. "Because of our animagi, I'm Prongs and Sirius is Padfoot. But you've always called Y/N dove just because – and now she is a bird, so should we all call her that now? It's not the same bird, but close?"

"No," Remus and you said quickly and shared a small smile. "Dove is mine, you lot can find your own bird-name for her," he teased.

James just laughed. "The possessive streak runs deep in this wolf, huh?"

"What nicknames can be derived from a swan then?" Sirius wondered out loud. "White Wing sounds too much like a superhero name."

"We are not calling me White Wing." You laughed, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. "I quite like what you've always called me. If we need a codename later we can come up with it then."

Remus was sure his irises could melt from how soft his gaze on you felt. "Sure thing, dovey. Tonight we just do whatever you want to celebrate."

Your smile was relaxed in that domestic, beautiful way that Remus felt the urge to frame. "We're already doing it. Just being with you three."

"Sap," Sirius whispered in your ear, accidentally tickling you, causing you to giggle and twist in his arms.

As Remus' body shook with both his and James' laughter, he knew that you had once again gone and done everything he never expected. If he was lucky, you would do that for the rest of his life – and that is what would make it good.

"Oh, I have to go tell Regulus!" Sirius exclaimed, running off - with you hot on his heel.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Daemon’s daughter and being in love with Aemond. Sprinkle some taytay songs in there

Request: Daddy I love him with Aemond I beg you

Although the song title references The Little Mermaid, the lyrics screams Aemond. I started writing this when the TTPD came out, but I lost the file (I searched for it but it’s no longer there…) and had to start over -_-

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’But Father, I love him!’’ 

The words escaped your lips before you could hold them back. 

Daemon's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he registered the implication of your words. He had forbidden you from courting Aemond Targaryen long ago. He thought the matter was solved, that the one-eyed prince was out of your head – of your heart —, but apparently you had gone behind his back and disrespected his authority. He shouldn't be surprised; you were your father's daughter, after all.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knew all too well that you had inherited his fiery temper, and a clash between your wills would only end in disaster. ‘’Love?’’ Daemon scoffed, his voice dripping with skepticism. ‘’What do you know about love?’’

Your eyebrows knitted together in a frown, hurt and anger flaring within you. Just because you were young didn't mean you couldn’t know what love was. Your feelings for Aemond were true and pure. 

‘’You are not to see Aemond anymore. I don’t want you to ever go back to King’s Landing. Am I understood?’’ Daemon's voice was cold and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

‘’You can’t cage me in this castle,’’ you shot back, your defiance burning brightly.

‘’But I can assign a guard to follow you around,’’ Daemon countered, his tone unyielding. ‘’Do not underestimate how far I will go to keep you from him.’’

The room fell into a tense silence as you watched your father leave your chambers, slamming the door behind. 

You wanted to scream in anger and frustration. Why was everyone protesting your and Aemond’s courtship? In a realm where political marriages overpowered ones of true love, they should be happy for you. Instead, they were demonizing the man you loved. 

Aemond didn’t always make the right choices, but he was not a bad person. He had a heart, and genuinely cared for you — contrarily to what your father believed. You met him on the day of your mother’s funeral. He found you in a corner of Driftmark, crying by yourself. He offered you comfort while your father was avoiding his daughters, not knowing what to say to any of you.  

⁂

If your father thought he could control you by having a guard follow you around all day, he was strongly mistaken. A fortnight had gone since he forbade you to see Aemond, and you were already planning an escape. You had sent a raven to King's Landing, informing Aemond of all that happened with your father and requesting to meet you at the Iron Gate on the new moon, which was tonight. 

You waited until nightfall to change into your riding clothes and sneak out of Dragonstone castle. Assuming you were sleeping, Ser Erryk had left from his post and gone abed for the night in the sword quarters, leaving you without a chaperon until morning.

The flight to King’s Landing took longer than you had calculated, but you made it before the first ships would sail through Blackwater Bay. 

From above, Aemond could be seen waiting for you by the gate, standing tall in his black leathers and his sword secured on his hip. He must have been waiting for you for most of the night. 

You landed with your dragon on the shore, and skillfully dismounted before running up to him. Your hair billowed in the wind, the joy spreading on your face as you got closer and closer. A warmth spread through your chest as he finally embraced you, his arms closing around you, holding you tight. 

‘’You are here,’’ Aemond murmured in your hair. ‘’I was beginning to believe your plan had been discovered.’’ He released you, taking your gloved hands in his and kissing them. ‘’Come. It’s cold out.’’ 

Sneaking inside the Red Keep was nothing new. You had done it many times. 

The door of Aemond’s chambers closed behind you. He cupped your chin and pulled you up towards him, his lips finding yours like a magnetic pull was forcing them together. A soft, loving kiss, making up for the time spent apart. 

You wrapped your arms around Aemond’s neck as you felt him grabbing your thighs and lifting you up to press you against his body. The maneuver was much easier without a dress in the way. You tangled your fingers in the back of his hair, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as you nipped at his bottom lip. 

Aemond let out a guttural moan, breaking the kiss. ‘’Don’t,’’ he warned, his lips so close you felt his warm breath when he spoke. ‘’You drive me mad when you do that…’’ 

His warning triggered your defiance. With mischief in your eyes, you took his bottom lip between your teeth, and released it. ‘’That?’’ you asked, playing the innocent card. 

Aemond’s eye darkened at your defiance, and he gave you a glare that could make even the bravest men run for the hills. He walked you over to his bed, setting you down on his velvet sheets. You pulled him down with you, but Aemond stopped you, standing to remove his sword and anything that would bother him when holding you close. 

You wished you had more time together, but you needed to depart for Dragonstone before the sun started to rise. If you stay longer, your father will be alerted of your empty bed and you’ll have to face the wrath of his anger.

⁂

Drenched in rainwater, guards opened the doors as you stepped inside the castle. You got caught by the rain on your way back, which slowed you down. 

Without surprise, your father was waiting for you in the great hall.

His voice was stern as he questioned you. ‘’Where have you been?’’ Daemon waited expectantly for your explanation, although he already has his suspicions. 

He had been your age once. It seemed some of his worse traits were in you too — stubborn, defiant, impulsive. And now he was the one who had to deal with it. Add to this your mother’s fiery personality, and it became Daemon’s worst nightmare. 

Fortunately for him, your sister did not share those traits as strongly as you. 

‘’Good morrow to you, Father. Did you sleep well?’’ you asked, trying to find a quick lie. 

Would he believe you if you said you went for an early walk on the beach?

Daemon's eyes narrowed as you evaded his question with your own greeting. ‘’Don't play games with me, young lady. A maid came in to see if you needed help dressing for the day, and found your bed empty. Dragon gone. You were with him!’’ His voice dripped with venom.

You couldn't hide your late night escapades from him. There was no point in trying. 

With his gaze fixed on you he continued. ‘’He's going to ruin your life, ruin your name,’’ Daemon roared, slamming his fists on the painted table just as Rhaenyra walked in, holding baby Viserys on her hip.

‘’I do not care! My name is mine alone to disgrace. He’s the one I want, the one I love,’’ you shot back, wishing he could see past his hatred. 

‘’May I know what it is with the loud voices this morning?’’ Rhaenyra asked, glancing between you and Daemon. ‘’You can be heard in the villages below the Dragonmont.’’ 

Your father turned his gaze toward his wife, trying to keep his temper in check. ‘’She flew to King’s Landing in the dead of the night to see that one-eyed Hightower cunt!’’

‘’Do not call him that!’’ Your eyes were blazing with anger. 

‘’Daemon,’’ Rhenyra scolded, her eyes going to young Viserys who should not be hearing such words. 

‘’Don’t go thinking I am out of ways to keep you away from him,’’ Daemon warned. ‘’You might have slipped from Ser Erryk’s watch, but I will exile you to Pentos if that’s what it takes. The Prince’s son is conveniently looking for a wife.’’

Your eyes welled with tears, but you blinked them away. Pentos was where your mother died. The thought of going there and being forced to build a family made you unwell. ‘’Y-you wouldn’t dare.’’ 

‘’I would. You will not marry Aemond Targaryen. I’ll never allow it.’’

‘’I’m afraid you have no choice,’’ you said, straightening your back before bringing a hand over your stomach. ‘’His babe is in my womb.’’ 

A murderous look twisted on Daemon’s face. His hand tightened over his sword, as if he was ready to bolt on Caraxes and behead Aemond Targaryen. Kinslayer was not a title he was afraid of. 

Beside him, Rhaenyra grabbed his arm, silently telling him to not do anything impulsive. 

‘’No, I'm not,’’ you quickly added, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. ‘’But you should see your faces.’’ 

—

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All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  @Anouknani-2305 @books0fever @papichulo120627 @qardasngan @ghostlyvoidydragon @M0rgans1nterlud3 @dahlia-blossom21 @Spacexdrago @nhlfs

[lueurjun]

f1 driver!boyfriend heeseung.

request — if you are accepting requests i was thinking maybe something like formula one driver heeseung x reader where they travel to support him at his races all around the world, and also watching their boyfriend become world champion at the end of the season? thank you <3 !! 🎀

eek ! sorry this took so long. i have been in a deep writers block. but i hope you enjoy this lovely <3 this is long, my bad… i got carried away because i loved writing this. i had so much fun im not even kidding, i think i’m going to turn this into a written series for heeseung.

refer to this edit for the vibes—it has me in a chokehold and gave me the motivation for this.

rocking back and forth because ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

LEE HEESEUNG?? FORMULA ONE DRIVER?

SEDATE ME ! I NEED THIS

ahem anyways :)

heeseung’s career began at eight years old when his parents finally gave in and allowed him to start go karting.

f1 was his dream! he had posters in his room. miniature car figurines in a glass case that he didn’t let anybody touch. he sat for every race, knew every driver and owned so much merch that his mother had to hide her credit card

it’s giving maddy knew who she was from a young age- it’s giving obsession- it’s giving me with my enhypen obsession-

it was clear from the get go that this kid had some talent. he knew what he was doing and he knew how to do it better than anyone else

though he’s always been a little bit of a shit talker and ended up in several friendly feuds with other upcoming drivers.

lmao can you imagine 8 year old heeseung bickering with max verstappen?

as he grew older, he began competing in various competitions, and won the majority of them which opened up the doors to competing internationally

years later, he secures a position in F3 and gradually works his way up to F2. eventually, he makes it into F1 as one of the most promising drivers, under the guidance of red bull

now let’s introduce you

*louder than heeseung* hey 😘😉

you met Heeseung at one of his karting races when he was 15. instantly recognizing his potential, you had him sign your phone case, insisting that he was going to be famous one day and you wanted to sell it on ebay when he did.

absolute icon if you ask me

he thought you were being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel flattered by your confidence. after signing your phone case, he surprised you by asking for your number.

and who are you to pass up on the opportunity to keep in touch with a soon to be famous racer?

i can race faster than him just sayin ✋🙂‍↔️🤚 broom broom

the two of you remained in touch, and you attended as many races as possible to support him as a best friend. two years later, just as he secured a seat in F2, heeseung nervously asked you to be his partner.

which, of course, you were more than happy to.

now, onto present day: f1 driver heeseung with you, his beloved partner.

not you in your wag era-

i genuinely see you owning a tiktok account where you kinda just post daily grwms or vlogs which feature heeseung and your life travelling with him

and everybody eats it up because they get to see the human side of heeseung not just the aggressive driver that shit talks everything and everyone

yes i’m making him a sassy shit talker because i want to SUE ME

you kinda prove to his haters that he’s actually a huge nerd with the cutest personality, which garners him a lot more support

his team ADORES you for this

but it’s also really funny because why is the p2 winner, cocky red bull driver giving your followers a haul on all of his toy story merch?

his helmet is definitely custom designed as buzz lightyear and i find that absolutely adorable

he also has your initial on his helmet somewhere that everyone thinks is so sickeningly cute

he calls it his good luck charm

you receive some hate with jealous people accusing you of only wanting his money and fame

haters come outside i’m not gonna do anything. haha. i just wanna talk ( and set their hair on fire ) just a lil chit chat 😃

but for the most part, you are actually very much adored

if fans see you walking around, they call out for you to take pics with them

which you do, albeit with a little hesitance, as you’re not used to the spotlight and don’t quite understand why people idolise you.

ummmm because you’re perfect🫶 hope this helps

in this scenario, you’re a full time influencer which makes it easy for you to travel alongside him and attend all of his races

which is good because you couldn’t make his japan gp due to an issue and he damn near lost his mind

bro was STRESSING

i would be too if i had u and had to deal with a couple days without u 🫶

he made it everyone’s issue

his team were so tired of him that they sent you multiple texts begging for you to get on a flight

he was so sassy during his interviews and the viewers immediately knew it was because you weren’t there

‘bringy/nback’ trended with memes making fun of him for being a brat without you there

he finished really badly that weekend

bro relies on you fr

when you eventually returned at his side for his next race

he was back to his angelic self

you made him apologize to all the team

imagine you stood behind him with your arms crossed, shaking your head while he sheepishly apologises in front of everyone for being difficult HAHHAHA

he was all smiles in his interview and got p1 because he was eager to impress you

gigglin and kickin my feet BECAUSE HES SO CUTE

and you’re stood in the paddock, watching with the biggest grin on your face

when the podium celebration rolls around, you’re front row and he makes sure you get hit with some champagne with the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen

he ruined your very expensive outfit but you didn’t have it in you to be mad

i would never do that to you personally- just saying, your clothes would always be in pristine condition if you were with me… just sayin ✋😌🤚

when the two of you leave literally anywhere, he gets swarmed by fans

tells them to wait a second, and gets you to the car safely before he jogs over to sign some stuff

if you can’t get to the car, he makes sure your hand is in his, keeping you close whilst he signs things

he’s always hyper aware of your safety in public

if you’re instantly met with flashing lights, he will either cover your eyes or take off his hat and put it on your head to shield you

your safety always comes before his

also can we talk about your fashion?

you always dress to impress, never a bad outfit day

pfft is anyone surprised? you’re literally gods gift to earth- MOVE HEESEUNG

travel days are always so tiring for heeseung

which is when you become the protective one

holding him protectively whilst you both wait for your flight

running your hands through his hair

he holds you so tight; he doesn’t care who sees or about getting teased by his fellow drivers

when you’re finally in the air, whether it be private jet or not, you always make yourself into a personal pillow for him

it could be the cushiest flight known to man, and you’d still be his pillow

that should be me fr

he sleeps like a baby the whole time

and you don’t mind because you know he needs it

in the days leading up to the championship, he becomes…

unbearable? whiny? annoying? come here, i’d never- sorry sorry 😔

tense…

his stress levels are through the roof and nothing really helps other than just letting him be

he’s snappier than usual, but after many years together, you’ve learned to let it go

because you know this is a huge deal for him and he always apologises afterwards

the only thing you can really do is serve as his support and try to relax him as best as you can

like couple spa days when his schedule isn’t crammed

sightseeing to enjoy the beautiful country

even lying in your hotel room the night before, reminiscing about your relationship and his journey to becoming one of the best

you’d feel his heartbeat beneath your back which would be pressed up against him

his shaky breaths against the side of your neck as he pressed nervous kisses beneath your ear, nibbling slightly on the lobe

god… i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

“will you still love me if i don’t win tomorrow?”

you can tell he’s straddling the line between joking and genuinely needing reassurance

so, you do what you always do

you turn, cup both of his cheeks in your palms, and press your forehead against his

“you look funny.”

he’d giggle, and you’d start wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh harder

and he always does, because to him, you’re the funniest person he’s ever met

then, you’d scrunch up your nose and gently sweep it against his, eventually leaving a kiss on the bridge.

“i will love you no matter what. even if you wake up tomorrow and decide that you want to quit, i will love you. even if you decide to walk away from it all, i will love you. because at the end of the day, it’s not the trophies that matter or the podiums. it’s you. you, you, you! your happiness, your peace of mind. you are my greatest achievement; you are my championship win. and i will love you until my heart beats its last pump of blood.”

if you look closely, you can see me drowning in the shower-

a million kisses are shared that night before the two of you finally slip into a steady sleep

when the next morning rolls around, heeseung doesn’t talk much as he gets himself ready for the race

you’re a bundle of nerves as you follow behind him, hand clutched in his own

pre race cuddles are a must in his little rest room

there’s not much talking, heeseung quite likes his silence to gather his mind and enter his racing headspace

but his hold on you, and the way he looks at you speaks for itself. you don’t need his words to know that he loves you and he wants to win not only for himself or red bull, but you.

“if we win this, i’ll give you my helmet to sell on ebay. i think it would go nicely with the signature i gave you at 15.”

your heart quite literally melts into a puddle at the memory

you grin, peppering a bunch of kisses all over his face until you finally land on his lips, soaking in the pre race nerves and savouring the taste of nutella from his pancakes he had that morning

“oh, i am going to be absolutely loaded.”

the two of you share a laugh, knowing silently that you’d never sell it on ebay because it’s tucked away in your memory box, where it will stay until you’re grey and old

a piece of the past where the two of you very first met

the peace drains from the room as though a plug had been pulled from the bathtub, with tension and nerves flooding in

look at me getting all poetic 😌

heeseung doesn’t let go of your hand until he absolutely has to

leaving you alongside his family members with a kiss so passionate it left your mind reeling

his mother grabs your hand after sharing her own moment with him, and the two of you hold on tight to the hope that he’s going to win

the race is tense, you’re almost in tears from the chaos and the nerves

your heart feels like it’s seconds from stopping as the end to the final lap approaches with heeseung in close second

he’s going to overtake, and you’re not quite sure whether your heart could handle it

STOP WHY IS MY HEART POUNDING AS IF IM THERE PLS

you grip onto his mother, the two of you holding onto each other in anticipation

it happens within seconds, you barely have time to process it

heeseung overtakes, barely missing the Ferrari car as he does so

several seconds later, your world stops as the red bull team bursts into celebration

someone is shaking you, gripping onto you with pure elation but everything is in slow motion

heeseung just won the world championship

your heeseung just won

nah because why am i crying? someone take my laptop i’m far too into this

you choke out a sob, allowing his mother to cradle you in her arms with tears flowing down her own cheeks

you’re a crying mess, blubbering proudly and unable to make sense of anything

you don’t even care that the camera is on you, displaying your reaction for everyone to see

“he did it!”

“he absolutely did!”

you don’t know how much time has passed before he’s running towards you, yanking the helmet off

there’s no time to process anything before he sweeps you up into his arms, pressing kisses all over your skin wherever his lips could fit

he holds you like you’re the trophy, lifting you up proudly like a medal

tears cascade down your cheeks like a summer waterfall, while warmth and joy spread through you

he did it. he actually did it.

“get that helmet signed, boy. i’m gonna be rich!”

[moirasdolly]

Overwatch Ladies Reaction to You in a Little a Bunny Costume ˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ׂ

Characters: Moira, Kiriko, Ashe, Junker Queen, D.Va

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), reader in a bunny costume (fluffy tail, ears, and everything…), sub!reader except for with D.Va, praise and slight degradation, use of pet names, reader is referred to as bunny a lot

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Bang Bang Bang Bang - Sohodolls

Notes: AHHHH my first multi character hc post !! I’m getting into the Halloween mood rightttt about now, so I decided to write about some of my favorite OW ladies reacting to you dressing up as a bunny that leaves little to the imagination for Halloween <3

❤︎ Moira

• Ahhh of course we have to start off with my wife <3.

• She doesn’t seem like the type, but secretely she loves when you dress you dress up for her. She adores when you wear dainty lingerie, so when she sees you in nothing but a pink, lace-up corset, little panties with a fluffy bunny tail, matching bunny ears, and white stockings, it gets her heart pumping faster.

• She would want nothing more than to just tear everything off of you right then and there, but that would mean less time to see you in the little get up.

• It was the weekend before Halloween, and Talon had hosted a party before the actual holiday, so you decided to attend even though your girlfriend favored staying in the lab instead.

• She assured you, she’d be fine at the lab, and that you’d see each other after the party, she was never one for large gatherings. She hadn’t seen your costume though, so after the party when you peeked your head into the lab she was shocked.

• “My… I didn’t know my little bunny was such a whore.” She had spoken when you stepped through the door, shutting it gently. You practically skipped over to her, giving her a little 360 before plopping down on her desk in front of her—documents be damned! “You like?” You raised your brows at her waiting for a response. “More than like, my bunny.” Her voice was dripping with lust as she yanked you to the edge of her desk, papers flying off as you scrambled to keep your balance.

• She wasted no time pulling you to a standing position before bending you over her desk, your little tail on full display to her. Her thin fingers played with it gently before running over your clothed folds, marveling at how wet you already were.

• “Looks like my little rabbit needs a reminder on who she belongs too..” Her deep voice permeated every part of your being as she pulled your panties to the side and sank two fingers into your drooling cunt.

❤︎ Kiriko

• She’d so be into pet play… I just know it.

• “What do you think?” A grin played on your glossed lips as you showed her your Halloween costume. She was sitting across from you on the bed, legs spread so invitingly for you to go sit on.

• Wordlessly she pat her lap and you didn’t have to be told twice to come sit. Your legs straddled her own and you wrapped your arms around her neck gently. “I think the costume would be complete with this…” She mumbled before securing a white collar around your neck.

• “My cute...” Her hands worked from your neck down to the small of your back, and finally rested at the swell of your ass.

• Being the tease she is, she would pay special attention to the bunny ears and fluffy tail instead of where you needed her most. She just adores seeing you get so needy for her in such a vulnerable and exposed state.

• If you were planning on attending a Halloween party that night, good luck because Kiriko would want to keep you all to herself when you’re dressed up so pretty for her.

❤︎ Ashe

• We already know she’s very possessive, so she’s halfway torn between not wanting a single soul to see you dressed up like this, and wanting everyone to see what a cutie you are and knowing they could never have you. After all, you were property of the Deadlock leader.

• Don’t get her wrong though, she doesn’t want to control what you wear, she just wants to make it known, you’re hers.

• She’d love running her fingers over the wires of the corset, feeling every little curve of your body that was hidden under the garment.

• You were nursing a drink at the Deadlock Halloween party, and Ashe had you glued to her side the entire night. Anytime you would stray from her, all she needed to do was tug you by the laces on the back of your corset and you’d be snug by her side again.

• The two of you had decided to sit in a booth at the bar away from prying eyes while everyone celebrated the holiday. Before you could sit beside her, her hands planted firmly on your hips pulling you to sit in her lap instead.

• “You’re not gettin’ away, sugar.” Ashe mumbled against your neck, her red lipstick leaving smeared prints as she sucked little bruises onto your skin. “Not when you’re dressed like the sweetest bunny for me…”

❤︎ Junker Queen

• She’s the least shameless out of everyone on this list about loving the costume.

• “Dressed up like this just for me?” Her rough voice sent heat straight between your thighs as she towered over you, caging you inbetween herself and the wall.

• You nodded your head, eagerly awaiting what was to come. She shook her head slightly before speaking once more, “Legs try that again.” Her hands slid off the wall and instead gripped your waist firmly. “Use your words. Ya dressed up like this for me?”

• “Yes Dez…” Your sweet voice did wonders for her sex drive, she wanted to just slide your panties to the side and fuck you senseless.

• She’d love to see you in a bunny costume any day of the year, but there was something she loved about seeing you so excited for the holiday. Despite her wanting to to completely ruin you, she just thought you were cute in the little outfit.

• Before fucking you though, she’d love to making you put on a show for her to to see every last part of the costume. She’s very hands on as well. She’d love to play with the tail that was pinned to your back side, and the bunny ears that rested atop your head.

❤︎ D.va

• Please forgive me, I have no idea how to write more dominant reader, but I’ll try my best! I just can’t really see D.Va as being dominant, but I wanted to include her anyway since her biggest motif is a bunny!

• She loved seeing you in anything frilly and girly, so seeing you in that soft corset, tiny panties, and with your fluffy little tail sticking out just like the ears on top of your head.

• I think she’d get super flustered seeing you in something like this, her cheeks would heat up, and she’d have a hard time sitting still as you crawl on top of her, settling yourself right on top of her hips.

• You took her soft hand and placed it on the soft fur of your bunny ears, making her feel the texture before guiding her hands down to your breasts. Hana wanted nothing more than to feel your skin under the corset, but she would take whatever you wanted to give her.

• You guided her hands down to the bunny tail before letting her plant them firmly on your ass. She swallowed thickly, looking up at you with her doe-like eyes silently begging to touch you more.

• “Oh little bunny… Look at you.” Your sickly sweet voice, the way you were settled on top of her, and the costume you wore were all making her extremely worked up and you could almost feel how wet she was getting uunderneath you. Who were you to deny your sweet bunny her pleasure?

[mitfloya]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 6.8K

synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time

To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him. 

First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you. 

You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.

The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.

It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had. 

Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.

You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.

You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.

His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?

You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.

In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.

From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.

His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires. 

Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways. 

It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.

As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.

Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.

Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.

You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡

He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.

Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.

But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.

In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.

But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea. 

Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.

He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.

However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.

His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.

When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.

His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.

You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.

© 2024 mitfloya — all rights reserved. kindly refrain from altering, translating, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

[bunbotbuggiman]

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

saw a post (https://www.tumblr.com/cursed-angelic-art/686056254886559744/do-you-think-mobei-jun-is-the-one-playing-father) talking abt if mbj "played dad" for og lbh's army of kids and-

au where the peak lords reincarnate as Bingge's quarter demon spawn

they all have different mothers but are all the same age- were born the same year-

even sqq, who's nyy's favorite kid (because he reminds her of her shizun, during the good days before lbh became a disciple) despite not being her kid (she herself never had any kids, which doesn't bother her as much because neither did lmy or shl and they're the head wives still so) (in the same vein, Liu Mingyans favorite kid is the one who behaves most like her late brother)

This world's version of Shen Yuan, however, was born as the son of one of mbj's advisors, before said advisor and his family died in a tragic accident. so he was adopted by mobei-jun and shang qinghua at the ripe old age of barely a few weeks old.

His name: Mo Yuan, named after an old friend of Shang Qinghua's from his secret pre-transmigration life (In this world, SY is not a transmigrator.... maybe he is a reincarnation.... but there's no real way to tell, he sure doesn't remember anything)

So he's an ice demon. looks like Shen Yuan but everything about him is like 30 shades more MBJ. he adores his parents, and his parents adore him, and because of this mutual adoration he has successfully grown up completely secure in his status as their child in spite of fully knowing of his adopted status.

This being said, there are very few individuals who also know this fact, because since the transition was so fast (and because Shang Qinghua knows stuff, and Mobei-Jun knows he knows stuff) they just bullshit it and say that Mo Yuan is a magical plant baby who was born as a full demon in spite of technically being a half demon because of magic plant bullshit.

He looks enough like shang qinghua to make it believable anyways, so it's fine.

Mo Yuan and Shang Qinghua also have a really weird relationship where MY at some point got into Shang Qinghua's writings (only the age appropriate stuff.... he found out about the porn at a later age) and violently hated it, but Shang Qinghua found it:

A. funny that his son was so violently opinionated and

B. thought it was important that his son be able to have an outlet for these emotions so he honestly encouraged it.

So now they have a really close parental relationship but also are kind of friendly-close because when Mo Yuan found some of SQH's writings, he immediately was like "oh my god Baba you suck???? at writing????? How?????? You are a scribe???? This is so awful???? Baba, you could do this better, and this better, and- what the hell, take this out, oh my god..."

Also, his name in the au is 漠垣 Mo Yuán meaning North[ern] Wall, but his courtesy name is 漠 雪峰 Mo Xuefēng, meaning North[ern] Snow[y] Peak.

However, he is beloved by much of the palace staffers, who have watched him grow up much closer than any of Luo Bingge's children, who mostly grow up in the relative isolation of their courtyards and palaces and palace wings, so he is referred to by many of them by his nickname, 雪花 Xuehua, meaning snowflake.

So anyways, he meets + kinda grows up alongside many of the peak lords because he grows up spending a lot of time in the palace by virtue of his dads being, well, Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua and Liu Mingyan, shippers prime and book club buddies into this universe (though Mo Yuan staunchly ignores all of LMY's writings because his face is wayyy too thin for that) immediately sees the way that the various children of Luo Bingge climb over each other in desperate attempts to charm and woo the chilly Mo Xuefeng...

and maybe eventually, how one son of Luo Bingge looks at him and how Mo Yuan looks back.

(I haven't decided what I want the pairing to be here.... oopsies y'all, come to y'alls own conclusions ig lmaooo)

[sflow-er]

About the settlement in YR S3

A discussion with @scatteredpiecesofme a while back inspired me to look more closely into the settlement between August, Wilhelm and Simon. I already dabbled in criminal justice meta after S2, but I didn't account for a settlement back then, so it's time to update my info!

Posting this, I know it's a topic people have strong feelings about. If you choose to read below the cut, please keep in mind that it's not meant to be a moral judgment. It's an attempt to review the case as presented in the show and interpret it through what I've learned about law and procedure in real Sweden.

TL;DR: The offences being settled are defamation and unlawful breach of privacy. The settlement of 1.2 million kronor is dozens of times higher than what Simon could realistically expect from court.

Sources: Swedish Criminal Code (EN-SV), Code of Judicial Procedure (SV), preparatory documents for relevant laws (this and this), reference collection on kränkningsersättning, cases available online or in the media (e.g. this and this on dagensjuridik.se), legal blogs, articles and legal advice websites (e.g. lawline.se, Domarbloggen), discussion on treasonable offences (SvD column, expert exchange, motion to parliament, this and this tabloid article), guidelines/advice for prosecutors (e.g. on defamation, day-fines).

Disclaimer: I'm just a layperson and not even Swedish myself, so it's entirely possible I missed something! Respectful discussion and corrections are very welcome!

.

The facts of the case against August

Quick recap

August committed criminal offences by filming and posting the video.

Sara reported August to the police.

August, Wille, Simon and their legal counsels and parents negotiated a settlement at the royal palace with Jan-Olof presiding.

JO said they wanted to avoid a trial. Rickard claimed the evidence and testimonies would not be enough to secure a conviction, and the video was not likely to be considered explicit.

Simon's counsel said Wille's legal team had already decided not to pursue the matter in court.

They settled for 1.2 million kronor, presumably per plaintiff.

The offences on the table

“Spreading that kind of video could be considered gross defamation, gross unlawful breach of privacy, and possibly a CP offence. The penal value is prison, in any case.”

It's pretty clear August also committed intrusive photography, but that overlaps with unlawful breach of privacy, so that might be why it wasn't mentioned. Here's a complete list:

- intrusive photography (kränkande fotografering, covertly photographing or filming someone in a private space) - unlawful breach of privacy (olaga integritetsintrång, disseminating sensitive images in a way that's liable to result in serious harm) - defamation (förtal, disseminating information that identifies someone as a criminal or their way of life as reprehensible, or is otherwise liable to expose them to contempt) - treasonable offences (högmålsbrott, a clause that, among other things, makes some crimes more severe when committed against a member of the Royal House) -CP (I'm not writing this out so the post doesn't get caught in filters)

Unlawful breach of privacy was also mentioned by Rosh back in S2. It's a fairly new offence that entered into force in 2018, and very few cases lead to a conviction (only 27 out of the total 1,876 in 2021). Even when a perpetrator is identified, it's hard to prove it was them (and no one else) using the device. Proving an intent of serious harm isn't easy either, but the court usually considers whether the defendant should have known that was liable to occur.

The main angle in the show was defamation, which doesn't need to be untrue in Sweden. It's all about exposing someone to contempt - and if the defamatory statement is also liable to result in serious harm, it becomes gross defamation. This is why Rickard, who already called gross defamation in S2, argues in S3 that outing someone no longer counts as exposing them to contempt (he's refuting that it was defamation at all).

Another way off the hook would be to show that 1) the statement was true and 2) the defendant was “obliged to make it” or it was “otherwise justifiable to provide information about the matter.”

The treasonable offences clause is a bit of a legal minefield. It allows the public prosecutor to demand harsher punishments for some crimes when they are committed against members of the Royal House, but it also creates questions of whether the royals are even able to bring these types of charges the normal way. It clearly didn't come into play in YR, but I'll return to it in the conclusion.

A CP offence was also mentioned in S2 by Rosh and Rickard. Rosh reckoned it was a sure thing and could land August in prison, but Rickard only listed it as a possibility. He said the penal value was prison “in any case” because gross unlawful breach of privacy is always punishable by prison (more about the penal values in my now-obsolete post).

Still, this was dramatic exaggeration by the writers. August is 18, and persons under 21 could not be imprisoned unless there were very heavy grounds for it back in 2020/2021. Even the stricter law from 2022 mainly applies to violent and gang-related offences.

By the old law and practice, any sentence given to an 18-yo would be reduced to 50% of an adult's sentence, and August is also a first-time offender. If convicted, he'd be looking at some combination of fines, youth community service, and/or a suspended sentence.

That's another silly thing about the Alexander ploy in S2, although not as silly as Alexander forgetting he had already been caught with the drugs.

So that's the potential crimes listed. We'll get to the crimes that were actually being settled in a little bit.

Relevant facts about procedure

To understand how they got from Sara's police report to the settlement scene, it's useful to look at some intricacies of the Swedish justice system that may differ from other countries.

The right to press and pursue charges

By Swedish law, most crimes are subject to public prosecution by the state. The police are legally obligated to start what is known as a “preliminary” investigation when a crime is reported, and the prosecutor is legally obligated to consider charges and pursue them. Regardless of what the victim/plaintiff wants.

There are two notable exceptions. Charges for målsägandebrott (“plaintiff offences”) can only be brought by the plaintiff, and angivelsebrott (“offences subject to report”) must be reported for prosecution by the plaintiff. If an angivelsebrott is reported by someone else, the plaintiff decides if they want the case to go ahead.

These are also the only types of crimes where the plaintiff is able to withdraw the charges. If they do, neither they nor the public prosecutor can ever bring the same matter again.

In the YR case, defamation is målsägandebrott, the privacy offences are angivelsebrott, and CP is always subject to public prosecution.

It's also possible for angivelsebrott to be publicly prosecuted when public interest calls for it (e.g. gross unlawful breach of privacy is often considered serious enough to meet this bar). The same goes for målsägandebrott under certain circumstances, e.g. when the victim of defamation is under 18. Public prosecution also applies if there are multiple offences and one of the other offences is subject to it.

If charges are raised by public prosecution, the injured party becomes unable to withdraw them (the state becomes the plaintiff in their stead).

Concurrent offences and protective interests

When someone commits more than one offence by a single action, these are assessed for brottskonkurrens (concurrence of offences).

In some cases, the offence with the harshest punishments 'consumes' the others so they no longer count. For example, gross unlawful breach of privacy is always punishable by prison, so it often consumes defamation and even gross defamation.

In other cases, all the offences count 'in concurrence'. One example is when the laws that were broken had different skyddsinteressen (protective interests). In the YR case, intrusive photography and unlawful breach of privacy have the same protective interest: both crimes infringe on the right to privacy and personal integrity. Defamation infringes on a person's honour and reputation, which is a different interest. Hence, unlawful breach of privacy of normal severity is often pursued and punished in concurrence with defamation (normal or gross), but less often with intrusive photography.

As for CP, Swedish law classifies it as an offence against the public order (not as a sex crime, although it can overlap with sex crimes such as using minors for sexual posing). The protective interest is twofold: the individual child's right to personal integrity, and the right of children at large to be safe from CP. So there is some overlap with the privacy offences, but it's also an offence that falls within a completely different area of law.

Note that the sentence is not given as the sum total of the concurrent offences! It's the sentence for the most severe offence, with increases for the concurrent offences (as determined by the judge).

Settlement vs. mediation

JO tells us the parties are doing förlikning (settlement) to avoid the matter going to trial. This is different from medling (mediation).

Settlement primarily applies to disputes, but it can also be a private, out-of-court resolution for some offences. In my understanding, these would be målsägandebrott or angivelsebrott, as the plaintiff agrees not to pursue the matter in exchange for compensation. The settlement also prevents public prosecution even if it is determined later on that the conditions for that are met.

Mediation is a process where a neutral party authorised by the court (not JO) brings the victim and perpetrator of a crime together. It can also be used for family law disputes, but this is less relevant for us. The parties can agree on compensation, but the main objective is just to discuss and process the matter. The perpetrator must admit their guilt in order for mediation to go ahead.

Mediation is separate from the court process, but the defendant's willingness to enter it and a favourable outcome may be taken into account. The prosecutor may bring less severe charges or even offer åtalsunderlåtelse (no-prosecution deal), whereby the offence goes on the guilty person's criminal record but they avoid trial and punishment. If a trial does happen, the judge may be more lenient.

How this all relates to the settlement scene in YR

Based on the above, the settlement in 3.01 must be for defamation, and very likely also unlawful breach of privacy. Intrusive photography is also possible, although the characters never mention it.

Defamation is målsägandebrott and privacy offences are angivelsebrott. Hence, the matter can be settled out of court.

It's hard to say if any of the offences could be gross, despite what Rickard said back in S2. The breach of privacy probably isn't, since it hasn't consumed the defamation or been publicly prosecuted. The defamation could certainly be (this would align with legal precedent for spreading sex tapes), but I think this type of gross defamation of the Crown Prince and another minor should already meet the threshold for public interest.

We don't know exactly when the settlement scene is set, or how long has passed between seasons. Offences involving minor parties must be investigated without delay, but it is possible that the prosecutor is still considering whether to claim public interest. If the settlement is finalised before public charges can be brought for these particular offences, that will no longer be possible.

The opposite is true for the potential CP offence. In my understanding, being able to settle out of court means that must already be off the table.

The police will have been legally obligated to open a preliminary investigation when they received a report about a legal (young) adult having filmed two minors in a sexual situation. Simon and Wille will have been notified of the privacy offences and defamation, and asked if they wanted the investigation to go ahead (since they didn't make the report themselves). But a CP offence is different. It's the kind of crime that must have been investigated even if the victims said they didn't want to press charges or refused to cooperate.

Based on the preliminary investigation, the prosecutor will have considered charges. August's age and development gap to Wille and Simon and the explicitness of the video will have been assessed. His defamatory (not sexual) intent and the other offences could have factored in as well.

I'm not going to guess any further at the reasoning, but no charges were brought. CP is subject to public prosecution, and that also applies to any concurring offences. The settlement wouldn't be possible if it was still in the mix.

Instead, they could be having court-authorised mediation with a neutral party, but only if August already admitted his guilt. (This was actually the part that confused me the most when I first watched the show and wasn't aware of the difference between the processes.)

Anyway. Now that we know what was being settled, I also want to look at the level of compensation.

Compensation compared to court sanctions

The settlement was for 1.2 million kronor. Presumably per plaintiff, as that was the number Simon's counsel gave him. Both he and Rickard described it as generous.

So how does the sum actually compare to what the court might have awarded Simon or handed down as a punishment to August?

Fines

If convicted in court, August could be sentenced to dagsböter (day-fines). The sum ranges from 50 to 1,000 kronor per day, and the minimum number of fines is 30. The maximum is 150, or 200 for multiple offences.

In this case, there are indeed multiple offences (two or three depending on whether intrusive photography still counts), so the absolute maximum is 200,000.

Now for some speculation!

A day-fine is the person's annual income divided by a thousand, adjusted for net wealth and debt. August is a cash-poor student with no job. He must get a bit of income from the estate and possibly some other investments, but if he can't afford to pay Simon back for the drugs and alcohol, it can't be much.

So, the base sum will be low. It gets raised by 50 kronor for every 500,000 of net wealth over 1.5 million, but then there's also a reduction for significant debts. If August truly has to sell his estate to free up 2.4 million, it can't be valued very high and/or he must be in serious debt. His day-fine will land in the hundreds, but I doubt it reaches 1,000.

It's hard to say how many day-fines he would get, but I don't think it would be anywhere close to 200. In examples found online, 40 seems pretty common for each of these crimes at normal severity. In one case, a man convicted of unlawful breach of privacy and gross defamation got a suspended sentence + 80 day-fines, which changed to 100 day-fines for just gross defamation on appeal.

Although the parties in these cases are all adults, while August is in the young offenders bracket. For example, he might get those 80 day-fines but no suspended sentence, or he might get something else entirely. Compare with a case where an 18-yo boy (17 at the time of the crime) spread a film of his friend having sex with a woman: he was convicted of both intrusive photography and unlawful breach of privacy but only sentenced to 35 hours of youth community service.

However, the boy did have to pay compensation.

Compensation payable to the victim

An injured party is often entitled to apply for compensation. In these types of crimes, it's called kränkningsersättning (compensation for infringement/suffering), and there is no cap on it.

However, there are some relevant sample cases online.

The boy in our previous example had to pay 25,000 to the woman.

A person who spread a sexual film showing a 14-yo girl was convicted of gross defamation and had to pay 25,000.

A man who secretly filmed an 8 to 12-yo girl in the bathroom was convicted of a CP offence and had to pay 25,000. The reference collection of cases says it's worth noting this happened before intrusive photography was criminalised as its own offence.

A woman who filmed a 16-yo boy having sex with his girlfriend and posted the video online was convicted of unlawful breach of privacy and gross defamation and had to pay 30,000.

A man who spread sexual photos of his ex to her friends and employer was convicted of gross defamation and had to pay 50,000.

A man who uploaded films of his ex on an adult site was convicted of gross unlawful breach of privacy and had to pay 60,000. In a very similar case before the privacy offences were criminalised, a man was convicted of gross defamation and had to pay 70,000.

The settlement sum of 1.2 million is 17 to 20 times higher than the highest examples. It's also 40 times higher than the example of the 16-yo boy and his girlfriend, which I think is a remotely similar case (although the place of filming was less private and the dissemination was less broad and damaging than in YR). On August's side, the 2.4 million is many times higher than the day-fines plus compensation, even if we don't know the exact numbers.

So that gives us some idea of the level of compensation and monetary punishment that Simon and August could realistically expect, but those aren't the only factors Simon might consider.

Conclusion: a trial could get very complicated

As mentioned above, Wille's legal team had already decided they would not be going to court. It's unsure if that could have even been done in the normal way.

Some legal experts believe the treasonable offences clause prevents members of the Royal House from bringing normal charges at all if they are victims of målsägandebrott or angivelsebrott, because they are considered a stately institution. Others think it should be possible if they just waive their right to treasonable offences, but the royals have never tried.

Instead, the public prosecutor may ask the government to authorise a treasonable offences charge. In theory, the government could say yes even if the victim themself said no, but that's extremely unlikely (for example, when a teen threw a cake in the real king's face in 2001, it was considered the king's decision). The prosecutor who handled the matter in YR could have already asked and been denied, or they could have decided against it if they knew Wille would object.

If Wille had decided to try and bring normal charges, his legal standing would have become a hot topic. If treasonable offences had been charged, the charges would have been public. Either way, the case would have gained a lot of media attention.

Wille being one of the plaintiffs could have also lead to a more stringent punishment for August. Especially for treasonable offences; the real cake-thrower was sentenced to 100 day-fines for harassment, which is a big sentence for a 16-yo (an adult could've got up to four years in prison). Even if they were normal charges, Wille was the one August intended to harm, which would have made the crimes all the more severe.

The level of compensation could have been higher too...at least for Wille. It's frankly beyond my comprehension as a layperson whether his and Simon's cases could have even been tried together due to their wildly different circumstances.

Simon is like any other person in the legal system. If the case did go to trial and August was convicted, he would receive compensation in line with the above. August would also have to pay his legal fees, as well as the potential fines.

It's hard to say how good the chances of a conviction were. Rickard was just defending August when he said identifying someone as gay was no longer considered defamatory, but that is true for Swedish society at large. However, it can still be defamatory if you out someone to people who can be expected to react with contempt (e.g. a religious group). For both defamation and privacy offences, it should also matter how widely the information was disseminated and how bad the consequences were (although you won't be rewarded for causing less harm than expected/intended).

We never actually heard if Rickard had a defence in mind for Simon's particular circumstances. On the one hand, Simon was already out, and he wasn't the target of August's harmful intent. On the other hand, surely August should have known he was liable to suffer serious harm by association. Their lawyers could argue these and other standpoints, and it could get complicated, especially if Wille couldn't be involved after settling.

For argument's sake... Let's say Rickard was right about the evidence and testimony not being enough, and Simon lost the trial.

He would have to pay both his and August's legal feels. Those are probably covered by the Erikssons' home insurance, but there will be a deductible of about 20%, and a cap of two, three hundred thousand. I assume this would normally be enough, but going up against “one of Sweden's best criminal lawyers” could still be a daunting prospect. Rickard might be representing his stepson for free at this early stage, but if the case went to trial and he was very confident they could win, that might change.

And leaving the financial stuff aside, Simon says he just wants the whole thing to be over. He doesn't want to have to rehash it all in court against August and Rickard, and although it's Wille's side who complain about the media storm, that isn't fun for Simon either. On the contrary, he's the one who's been targeted for hate and scrutiny.

The proceedings would likely be held behind closed doors since Simon is a minor, but an anonymised version of the court decision would still be public. At any point, word could get out about the case, which would quickly be connected to Wille because they were on the video together, and the media would be all over Simon again.

All that considered... Settling out of court for a comfortable sum of money he can use to move on with his life might not be the path of “maximum justice” for Simon, but it is a very understandable choice.

[punkshort]

Come Fly With Me

Thank you anon for this request!

I'm double dipping and using this as an entry into my own AU August Writing Challenge ❤️

Pairing: pilot!joel miller x flight attendant!reader one-shot

Summary: You and Joel have a little fun in the cockpit.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), competency kink, public sex (kind of?), unprotected piv sex, reference to blow job, light spanking

WC: 2.5K

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome on board flight 1092, flyin' from Orlando to Austin. Our flight time today is 2 hours and 40 minutes, but I know a few shortcuts, I'll get us there a little quicker.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the familiar ripple of laughter cut through the plane.

On a personal note, this flight is particularly special for me. My wife is on board today, so if you see her, please don't listen if she tells you 'bout my drivin'.

Captain Miller just got married a few days ago and it was still strange to see the gold band around his finger. It seemed he was struggling with it, too, because you caught him fiddling with it every time you glanced inside the cockpit.

You listened from the galley, doing your checks and making sure everything was locked and secured as Joel announced the temperature, how to operate the systems installed in the seats, and how to call an attendant for help. It was a speech you heard a thousand times.

Finally, he wrapped things up with on behalf of myself and the crew, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Have a wonderful flight.

You stood at your post with a smile plastered across your face as you watched Marissa and Brian explain to bored looking faces how to engage the floatation device and oxygen masks hidden around each passenger when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You didn't even turn around. You knew who it was.

"Once we're clear, come and see me, sweetheart."

A thrill of excitement slithered down your spine and you tilted your face to the side so you could whisper, "you're a married man, now. We shouldn't be doing that anymore."

"A ring 'round my finger ain't changin' a goddamn thing here."

And then he was gone.

It took nearly an hour. A full hour where you had to do your first round of service, handing out snacks and drinks to people who mostly ignored you and rarely offered their thanks before you brought your cart back to the galley to clean up.

You heard the door to the cockpit open and Frank, the co-pilot, stepped out and stretched. He saw you and smiled, nodded his head, then asked if he could take ginger ale, like always. And your response was always the same.

"You don't need to ask, Frank."

He grinned and gave you a little salute before he did his rounds. Frank was very personable. He enjoyed meeting new people and hearing their stories. When an extrovert has a job where he meets new people every six hours or so, it's a match made in heaven.

And it's especially good for you and Joel because you both know he won't be back for at least half an hour, probably more.

Glancing around to make sure none of the other flight crew saw you, you tapped lightly on the door then slipped inside.

No matter how many times you saw it, and at that point it had to have been hundreds, the cockpit always left you breathless. When you first step in, you're instantly overwhelmed with lights, buttons, levers and monitors. The control panel was absolutely massive and intimidating. And it was one of the things that attracted you to Joel in the first place.

Watching him operate a plane with such ease, hardly even having to think as he went through the motions turned you on from day one. Part of you always thought he knew it, too. From the moment he saw you, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

And you loved every second of it, married or not.

"Captain," you said breathlessly, then grinned when he turned around and slid off his headset. The ache between your legs had been steadily growing for the past hour and you were at the point where if he didn't do something about it within the next five minutes, you would take matters into your own hands. Literally.

"C'mere, darlin'. Why don't you sit on my lap?"

He patted his thighs, clad in dark navy blue, same as your skirt, and you giggled before doing as you were told.

He hummed appreciatively and ran his big hands up and down your legs, which were spread wide and straddling him.

"Pretty little thing," he murmured. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and slowly, subtly, began to roll your hips.

"What if someone catches us one day?" you whispered before leaning forward to taste the skin under his jaw.

"Ain't no one gonna catch us," he assured you, dragging his hands up and over your hips to cup your ass and give it a firm squeeze.

You groaned and started to move your hips faster. You could feel his cock stiffening against his leg and you felt yourself clench around nothing. Fuck, you wanted him so badly. Every single time it was like this. Your need for him was never quenched. But still, you enjoyed teasing him from time to time.

"Didn't you just get married a few days ago?"

You felt his hands pause momentarily, leaving your skirt hiked up around your waist but your underwear still on.

"What's your point?"

You smiled and bit gently at his earlobe. "My point is, wasn't your wedding night enough to satisfy you?"

His hands resumed exploring your body and you felt a deep rumble vibrate from his chest.

"You know the answer to that."

And he was right. You did.

The answer was the reason he asked you to come see him in the first place.

Joel slid his fingers past the waistline of your panties, swiping them through your folds with a pained groan.

"Fuck, so wet, baby," he said. Your hips tried to chase his fingers, tried to keep him where you needed him most, but he was too fast.

"You gonna fly this plane and fuck me at the same time, Captain?" you murmured seductively. He smirked and nodded.

With your breath coming in quick little excited pants, you tugged on his zipper while he pulled your panties to the side.

"Need me that bad, huh?" he teased, and normally you might say something smart right back, but on that particular day you wanted him more than usual. Maybe it was the gold band that was catching the sun in just the right way, the thought of him being married now egging you on and making you needier, but whatever it was had the seam between your legs absolutely dripping for his attention.

"Oh!" you cried out, then immediately slapped your palm over your mouth when you first felt him breech your opening. He chuckled and continued to guide your hips down, watching in a trance as you took every inch of him deep within your walls while you whimpered in his ear and tried you best to remain quiet.

"Shh, darlin', I got you," he said softly, his own face pinched as he tried to hold back from slamming up into you. "I got you. Yeah, feel that? Feel how good you take me?"

You nodded because it was true. You could feel your body relaxing and opening for him, happily welcoming him back in.

He gave you a few minutes to adjust. He always did, and you appreciated that. You were always the one who ended up doing most of the work given the small space, so it was the least he could do.

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and gazed out at the clouds while he gently stroked your back. The view never got old. It felt so surreal every single time, to be staring out at such beauty while stuffed full of his cock. It didn't get much better than that.

He whispered your name, voice sounding strained, and you lifted your head.

"Who's needy now?" you asked with a grin. He bit lightly at your chin and gave one of your ass cheeks a quick slap with his palm, making you jump and giggle before you began to roll your hips over his lap.

Joel's fingers dug into your skin with a sigh, gazing up at you adoringly while you rode him just the way you liked. There was something so fucking hot about him having complete control over the aircraft, hundreds of lives in his hands every single day, but you were the one who had the power over him. You were the one he yearned for, ached for. Since the first day you were assigned to his crew, he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He began to request you specifically be assigned to his flights as much as your schedules would allow, then one day on a particularly long flight you had brought him something to eat without him even asking. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and you just desperately wanted to take care of him, so you brazenly dropped to your knees and took him inside your mouth while his eyes fluttered closed, the only noises filling the air came from the back of your throat and the tinny voice echoing through his abandoned headset nearby.

The rest was history.

He wondered if getting married might dull his desire for you, but he was foolish to think his feelings could ever change.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he growled when you picked up the pace and began bouncing in his lap, your tits jostling in your navy blue polo. He feverishly yanked the hem of your shirt up so it bunched up over your breasts and he made a pathetic little noise when he saw the white, lacy bra you had on underneath.

"Look at you, filthy thing," he murmured, squeezing at your covered breasts. "Fuckin' a married man like this. But I bet that just turns you on even more, don't it?"

You moaned and tipped your head back, chin aimed at the ceiling of the cockpit. His lips dragged down your throat, tongue shooting out to taste your skin, careful not to leave a mark. He was convinced at least Frank knew what you were doing in here but he didn't need to give the rest of the crew any reason to gossip.

Air traffic control crackled through the radio, checking in like they usually did when the plane reached a new zone.

"Hang on," he told you, so you gripped his shoulders while he leaned forward to pick up the receiver. His thumb hovered over the button to answer when he gave you a look. "Didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You grinned and resumed fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed down on the button, dropping his voice to sound more professional when he answered the man on the other end. He confirmed his coordinates, his credentials and his flight pattern with ease, all while you circled your hips and ground yourself down, your clit catching on the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You had to bite back a moan when he was talking, the pleasure mounting low in your belly making it difficult not to make any noise.

Finally, he put the receiver back and you moaned his name, your face buried in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you? Love gettin' fucked in here, love the thrill of it, huh?"

"Yes," you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as you closed in on your release. "Oh, god, Joel - fuck!" you sobbed when he began to lift his hips from his seat, fucking up into you, matching you thrust for thrust, grunting like an animal in your ear each time your hips made contact.

"Lemme feel you, baby. Wanna feel you shake for me," he said through clenched teeth. You gasped and nodded, mustering every ounce of energy you had left to slam yourself up and down on his thick cock, so desperate to come you didn't care if the door flung open and the whole plane saw what you were doing.

"Tell me how it feels, honey," he said. He must have been close, too. You've done this enough times to know he likes hearing you talk dirty to him right when he's about to come.

"Feels so good," you began, "you always fuck me so good. No one else has - shit - n-no one else has ever... oh, god, Joel," you whined, losing focus when your vision began to blur.

"Don't stop," he begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Keep talkin', baby, please."

"Will you come inside me?" you whispered, your teeth scraping against your lower lip, turning the skin raw. "Wanna feel you inside me the whole flight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he gasped, forehead beaded with sweat, face flushed and jaw slack. "Yes, yes, yes... fuck! C'mon!" he groaned, slapping your ass a little harder than before.

You kept babbling, telling him how big he was, how badly you wanted him, how no one else has ever fucked you as good as he does when your voice caught in your throat and you came around his cock with a strangled moan.

He didn't hold back. He circled his arms around your waist and fucked up into you recklessly, your cunt pulsing around him while your chest heaved and your fingers clawed at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself through your high.

At the last second he pressed his face against the side of your neck, pinning you against his chest. He moaned, his mouth falling open when he came, not caring how loud he might have been. It felt too fucking good to feel himself fill you up, feel his hot spend pooling and dripping down his length while he weakly pressed into you, prolonging his orgasm as best he could before his limbs went weak and he sighed against your chest.

You were cooing in his ear, telling him how good he did, how full you were, fucking thanking him while his shoulders sagged and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Can't get enough of you," he whimpered. You grinned and kissed the top of his head before lifting yourself off his lap. He helped you slide your underwear back in place, the fabric immediately soaking with your combined release while you fixed your polo and stood up.

"Shit, my skirt's gonna be wrinkled," you muttered while he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants.

"Next time we'll just have to take it off," he teased, making you giggle and playfully swat at his shoulder.

"Next time? What would your wife have to say about that, Captain?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your left hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He silently appraised the two rings nesting on your finger with a pleased smirk before letting you go.

"I don't know, you tell me."

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his lips, lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

"She'd say she can't wait."

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[jonathancraneswife]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫 / Robert Fischer

pairing - Robert Fischer x (fem!)reader

summary - When things at Fischer morrow get out of hand, robert asks for a favour from his very own secretary; you.

words - 2.4k

warnings - MDNI 18+ — oral sex (m! receiving), creampie, quickie, semi- public act, fluff, pleasure uses as relief, handjob.

notes - look who decided to post after almost a decade..imagine this is my first fic of the year wow istg i am coming back into writing, send requests

masterlist

In the fischer morrow, you were known to be the perfect secretary. you didn't just manage schedules and filtered emails

you knew the inner workings of the company better than most of its leaders.

And behind the polished professional demeanor rested a sharp intellect mastermind who calculated her every move with focused precision, you navigated the situation with effortless control leaving no chance of doubt for others to leave behind your work.

People in the company referred to you as a calculated person who was always one step ahead, many times you had received praises from the leaders at the annual ceremony of the company, you had great titles lined up in your office, overall you are the best employee of fischer morrow.

At this moment you stood in your boss’ office, casting a brief glance at your wrist-watch as you tapped your feet continuously on the ground, with every passing second you felt impatient and worried.

your boss. Robert Fischer, was a highly demanding person. rich and arrogant heir who would always throw tantrums at the smallest thing in the company but ever since his father died he has been utterly disturbed.

The man in question, your boss was fashionably late for the deal, for FischerI morrow, this was a crucial opportunity to secure their future, every second of this dealing was meticulously planned.

And if the company leader himself didn't show up, the deal would be called off entirely. you retrieve your phone from your bag and dial Robert's number, this was the twentieth call since the morning.

He didn't pick up the phone, yet again.

Minutes ticked by the absence of your boss, Robert, which became glaringly obvious. your frustration grew. The meeting agenda was tightly clutched in your hands as you glanced at the clock for the fifth time in ten minutes.

you couldn't help but grab the phone to call him once again, your fingers hovered over the keypad. the ring tone reached through your ear, each beep was mocking your anticipation.

“oh, come on” you muttered under your breath, the call went to the voicemail again, you hung up with a sharp sigh, tossing the phone onto the desk and leaning back in your chair.

Glancing at the clock one more time, the meeting would start in half an hour from now, where he could possibly be–?

The void of your thoughts was abruptly broken by the faint creak of the door. your gaze snapped toward it, Robert stepped into the cabin with an air of casual indifference.

The tension that had been building inside your chest finally eased, letting out a sigh of relief, you rose up from your chair. now striding in his direction.

“Sir, everyone is waiting for you. I hope you are aware how important this deal is for you and the Fischer morrow” you say, your tone was strictly professional.

The expressions on Robert's face were shifted slightly. his usually composed demeanor flattered as worry and uneasiness was crept on his face.

“Well aware” he muttered, his usual defiant tone was now laced with tension, his eyes darted towards the clock.

“Great, now we have to move things for the meeting quickly. We don't have enough time left” your voice was toned in annoyance and irritation.

you turn to the door, hurriedly your steps were determined to leave for the meeting

but before you could take another step, Robert’s hand wraps around your wrist in a tight hold, his desperate grip pulled you back in your place.

The warmth of his touch contrasts with the cold air in the room, confusion stirred up in your mind at his sudden actions, Robert’s firm grip on your wrist sends a jolt through your senses, leaving you trapped in chaos of your own uncertainty.

“I need to talk to you about something” Robert spoke, his demeanor was subtly shifted to vulnerability.

Yet another tantrum, you thought. bracing yourself for whatever his arrogant mind has conjured up to say this time, “I am all ears, sir”.

The moment this words left your lips, he grasped your waist closely, pulling you closely towards his body, earning a gasp from you at his sudden actions.

“Listen, t-today is an important day for me, for this company. D-dad has dreamed about this dream since the day he started off to build this morrow”. His voice drops to whisper.

“When he was on his death bed, he called me and said that I-I have to secure this deal, it is my responsibility now, and if I failed this opportunity then he'd be disappointed in me” Robert finishes of with a sigh.

Both of you were caught in a moment of exposure, as his personal assistant you knew how insecure and sensitive Robert was, only you knew under that cold facade rested a man who was deeply hesitant and self-doubting.

“..I know we will secure this deal, you have worked for this day and night, suffering from countless sleepless nights for this one project. they will be worth it” You tell him in a reassuring voice.

He shakes his head, “No- no, my gut feeling says that I am going to fucking lose this, and I cannot bare that loss-”

you cut him of abruptly, “Sir, you are just stressed and anxious about the deal, I believe you can do this, I trust you”.

Trust, a value Robert held above love, tension in his chest eased down at you assuring words, but the storm in his mind remained tugged in his thoughts.

“I-I know you trust me, but I need a favour from you, this is something only you can do” He continues in a low voice, “but this is something we have never done before…”

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, his twisted sentences made you perplexed

“What is it?” you questioned, “you can tell me without any hesitation”.

He sighs again, his eyes remaining on the floor as he speaks, “This is something more intimate, something more than personal” Robert intertwines his fingers with yours, his ocean blue eyes locked into yours sending a shiver down your spine.

"...This is so awkward," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. Robert hesitated for a moment, his eyes avoiding yours before finally admitting, "I-I need you to pleasure me”.

your eyes widened at his unexpected request, shock and uncertainty flashed on your face, For a moment. You weren't sure if you heard him correctly, his words echoing in your mind as you tried to process their true meaning.

His gaze softened as he took in your reaction, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words to ease the tension he had created.

“Please don't deny this, I need this, I need you, right now please I beg you. we can be quick” He pleaded out, his blue eyes sparked with true genuinity while his hold on your hands tightened.

you noticed the way his expressions turned more weak , Robert’s shoulder were hunched signalling lack of confidence. You paused, taking a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, “Alright.”

Robert's features instantly softened, a flicker of relief washing over his face.His eyes, which had previously been shadowed with uncertainty, now brightened with a spark of hope.

He gently took your hand, leading you toward the leather couch nestled in the corner of his office.

Robert settled himself on the leather couch, He spreads his legs widely while his arms rested on the back of the couch, his blue eyes radiating a silent invitation for you to join him.

Once he was settled, you slowly dropped to your knees positioning yourself carefully between his legs, you knelt before him.

you were positioned between his sprawled legs, your heart pounding with anticipation.

Robert's blue eyes burned into yours radiating a silent invitation and a warning for you to hurry up.

slowly, you reached out and grasped his belt buckle, with unsteady fingers, you unclasped the buckle letting it drop on the floor beside you. The zipper to his trousers took an eternity to descend down in the charged silence of his spacious office.

As you pulled down the remaining fabric, his cock sprange free. erect, thick , heavy and the sheer size which was impossible to ignore, his length throbbed before you, The musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils. you could feel the heat emanating from his skin.

your eyes locked with Robert's as you tilted your head slightly. "Do you really want this ?" you asked, your heart beating faster in your chest.

He nodded instantly, his voice was steady but there was an underlying desperation in his tone, “I need this” His gaze bored into yours, reassuring you with every possible movements.

you swallowed hard, forcing down the lump of fear that had settled in your chest like a heavy weight.

Hesitatingly, you wrap your hand around his impressive size, feeling the pulse twitch against your palm. Robert let out a sharp groan, his fingers curling around the leather couch.

you began to stroke his cock, your hand moving in fast and rapid motion. squeezing his length gently in your hands. the pace of your movements fastened leaving Robert breathless.

Leaning forward, you flick your tongue around the top of his cock to taste him, running it along the underside of his length, The sweetness explodes in your mouth.

you felt the weight of his shaft around your tongue, the thick vein pulsing with each beat. your tongue danced around the sensitive flesh, tracing every contour of his sensitive skin, you swirled around it around the swollen crown.

“Fuck, your being such a good girl today” Robert lets out between shakey breaths, his nostrils flaring as he tries to regain his control.

In the response, you took him deeper feeling his shaft in the right channel of your throat, your head darts up and down with precision, your lips guiding around his thick shaft in a hypnotic rhythm.

Robert gripped your hairs in a fist, urging you to take him deeper in your mouth. you took him in your mouth then inch throbbing by inch, until you could feel his swollen head at the back of your throat.

your head bobs up and down on his massive cock at furious, restless speed. The crude wet squelches and sloppy slurps of your desperate sucking filled the room punctuated with Robert’s grutal and primal groans.

your throat bulges obscenely at each brutal thrust, your neck muscles clenching around his invading grith as you suck his cock with solid licks.

Robert’s grip on your hairs tightened, “right at the spot, I am fucking loving it” he grunts, his voice coming out in pleasureable moans.

your skull slams in his groin at a punishing pace, your lips were tightly sealed around his throbbing shaft. guttural, animalastic groans and grunts tear from his throat as you suck him wild and desperate abandon.

His hand fists in your hair, gathering the dishevelled locks into a ponytail, he uses his grip to bob your head up and down in brutal, reluctant speed.

The head of his shaft brutally bruises the back of your throat making you gag on his cock, you struggle to breath. your lungs sceaming for air as he grinds his hips faster over your mouth.

your eyes bulge, tears pouring down your face while the streaks of mascara paint your cheeks as his cock head was deeply buried in the back of your throat.

The room was filled with the musky scent of Robert's arousal mixed with your stuffed moans and his animalistic groans.

He slams your head down one last time, burying his cock to the hilt in your convulsing throat. His body goes rigid, muscles seizing as his climax crashes over him like a tidal wave.

“I need you to take all of me, swallow every last drop for me” He groans, his voice was raw and primal. His shaft pulses and jerks, swelling impossibly thicker as it unleashes a torrent of hot, thick cum directly in your mouth.

you feel the first scalding spurt hit your throat, His cock twitches and bucks as it pumps out what feels like an endless amount of cum, flooding your inside with his essence.

you swallow greedily, gulping down mouthful after mouthful of his potent release, Some of it backs up, oozing out around his shaft and dribbling down your chin.

The room fills with the scent of sex and orgasam, the air thick and heavy with the musky perfume of his climax. Robert grinds into you, holding you in place as the last weak spurts dribble onto your tongue.

His chest heaves, sweat pouring down his face as he gasps for breath, riding out the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Finally, with a shudder and a groan, he releases your hair, his softening cock slipping from your abused throat with a wet plop.

After the moment, you slowly get up. feeling your cunt clenching and throbbing at the same time, soaking wet through your panties.

You straightened your pencil skirt, smoothing the fabric with trembling hands, and buttoned up your blouse, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying the effort to compose yourself.

While Robert, stood by the couch adjusting his tie with one hand while tugging his trousers on his torso with the other hand.

Avoiding his piercing gaze, you cleared your throat and broke the silence. "Sir, the meeting starts in less than ten minutes. We really have to hurry." your voice was steadier than you expected, but your cheeks still burned with the memory of the scene.

Robert nods, the parable tension of the deal still lingered in his eyes. his expressions were vulnerable and sympathetic, he called out your name, “Wait”

“...stay with me during the meeting” his voice was shaken, a rare crack in the armor of his professional cold demeanour.

You nod approvingly , your tone calm and professional. "As your secretary, it’s my responsibility to guide you through the deal and ensure everything goes smoothly.”

Before he could respond, you reached out, your fingers wrapping around his wrist in a firm yet comforting grip."Mr. Fischer," you said softly but with conviction, "you’re going to close this deal, I believe in you.”

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, grounding him in a way that words rarely did. his guarded expression softened, and he gave a slight nod, drawing confidence from your comforting words.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Hold On

Summary: Maddie finds Reader on the bathroom floor after Reader attempted. The 118 receive the call as she is one of their own & then wait at the hospital with their family. Meanwhile, Reader is reminded of all her people & why she can’t give up. 

TW/CW: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNSURE IF YOU SHOULD!!! I'd rather you skip the read than get put in a bad place... Suicide Attempt, Reader's Bio Parents Are Dog Shit, Eddie Diaz x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst 

Requested?: No  

Word Count: 5,236

A/N: This was hella therapeutic to write. I’m not okay mentally but I’m working on it & writing this helped me take a step back from THAT area of my mind. I have my own real-life people that would play in my Movie Theater (this reference will make sense once you read it) & I watch that instead of venturing into the darkness. I’m sure it may not be entirely medically accurate. I apologize if it ever switches tenses weirdly or when it shouldn’t, I kind of confused myself with certain parts lol. Anyway, I just want you to know dear reader, you are loved, you are wanted, you are needed. If you ever need someone to talk to my dms are open. Love to all! Requests are open! 

--- Third Person POV ---

     Maddie found it odd that your home was silent when she walked in. You can't stand silence, even when you're sleeping there's soft lo-fi playing. It wasn't unusual for your friends to let themselves in but Maddie always at least knocked first. Usually that prompted you to rush to the door to meet her when it opened. You were nowhere to be seen. Maybe Buck was right. He had asked her to check in on you because he had a bad gut feeling. If he wasn't stuck at work, he'd have checked in on you himself.  

     Maddie set her purse and keys down on the kitchen counter, "(Y/N)?" No response. She made her way through your small apartment. She checked each room with no luck before finally making it to the guest bathroom. She knocked softly but hearing no response she opened the door. She immediately let go of the knob as her hand flew to her mouth in shock. She rushed to your side, "(Y/N)? Hey, wake up!" Her heart plummeted to her stomach as she hurriedly pulled her phone out to dial 911 and scanned the room around her. 

     "911, what's your emergency?" she recognized the voice immediately. 

     "Josh! It's (Y/N)! Send the 118," Maddie responded quickly as she checked over your vitals. 

     "Maddie what's going on?" Josh asked, the worry clear in his tone.

     As she continued her attempts to wake you, she explained, "There's so many medicine bottles scattered around, a nearly empty bottle of liquor, and a bunch of crumpled pieces of paper, Josh. She's barely breathing and her pulse is extremely low." 

     On the other end of the line, Josh was in pure shock, "Maddie did she-" 

     "Yes, Josh. She did," Maddie sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she still tried to wake you. The sirens approaching told her that help was close, "I hear the sirens. I gotta go." 

     "Okay, just keep me posted," Josh replied. 

     "I will," Maddie answered as she heard the front door open and hung up the phone. In seconds, Buck was pulling her out of the room holding her securely in his arms even though he so desperately needed to be in there helping save his best friend. Bobby watched the two make their way to the living room from outside the bathroom door as he held tight to Eddie's shoulder. He had dropped to his knees on the cold, hard, tile floor while gasping for breath between sobs and collected your hand in his. Hen and Chimney set to work on stabilizing you for transport to the hospital, forcing the tears to stay inside until they got you there. 

     As they wheeled your still body out with all kinds of equipment hooked to it, Maddie jumped up from the couch and ran to grab her keys and purse, "I'm riding with her." The team didn't argue as they made their way out. Once they had you safely loaded onto the ambulance, Chimney helped Maddie into the back, kissing her hand to say goodbye as Hen made her way to the driver's seat. Eddie climbed into the back to take over for Chimney. His hands were shaky as he checked your vitals over and over again, silently begging you to wake up right then and there. Begrudgingly, Buck and Chimney followed Bobby to the fire truck.  

     Maddie's heart raced as she held your hand gently. Eddie took a split second away from tending to you to wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks, "She'll be ok," he said more to himself than Maddie. 

     Her heart broke, "She's obviously not been ok for a long time, Eddie. How did none of us see it?" 

     From the front, Hen answered, her own tears threatening to blur her vision, "(Y/N) seems to think she has to fight her battles alone. She always has." 

     Back in the fire truck it was silent until Chimney finally spoke up, "Why didn't she say something?" 

     Bobby responded from the driver's seat, "I don't know, Chim. All I know is what we can do which is be there for her when she makes it through this." 

     Buck couldn't bring himself to look up from his boots, "Did anyone else see the note on the counter?" They all thought about those two simple words, I'm sorry. Fresh tears began to make their way down Buck's cheeks as Chimney wiped his own. Bobby took a deep breath as they pulled up at the hospital. 

     Everyone piled out of both vehicles as Eddie and Hen removed you from the ambulance and wheeled you toward the entrance. As they handed you off to the doctors and nurses, informing them of everything they could, every one of them were fighting to stay put and not pass those glass doors. 

     A few hours later, the team finally finished their shift. Maddie and Eddie had stayed at the hospital to keep everyone informed and for the sake of their own sanity. No one else had said a word about the event that had occurred. They were all replaying and processing that span of time. Having heard about everything from Maddie, Carla had offered to pick Jee and Chris both up from daycare and school to take care of them for as long as their parents needed. Karen, who had heard about it from Maddie as well, told Hen to do what she needed to do but let her know as soon as Hen needed her or she and the kids could visit. The team piled into Bobby's truck and silently rode to the hospital. 

     When they arrived and found Maddie and Eddie in the waiting room, a group hug was formed. They leaned on each other as they all desperately hoped that a nurse or doctor would approach to let them know you were okay and awake. 

     Meanwhile, in your quiet hospital room, a nurse took your vitals as you lay there still motionless. Your heart rate and oxygen had come up but were nowhere near where they should be for a young, healthy, firefighter. Somewhere in your unconscious mind there was a song playing. For as long as you could remember, Hold On by Chord Overstreet had always made you cry. It brought to mind the people in your life that would miss you if you were gone. Sure, those people changed in and out depending on where you were in life but this time it was the faces of your friends, your family. As the song played, memories also played on a big movie theater screen. You sat in the seats alone. 

     The first day you walked into the 118 firehouse started the movie. The smile on Bobby, Hen, and Chimney's faces when you tripped over a bench before stumbling through introducing yourself. They introduced themselves as well before motioning for you to join them upstairs for lunch. You had instantly clicked with them and they quickly became like family to you. 

     Next came the day you met your best friend, Buck, shortly followed by every single time anyone had referred to the two of you as "the dynamic duo". Then came every time you had looked at Buck and "thought what would I do without him". Buck had been your crutch through so much pain and heartache. The two of you were two peas in a pod from the very beginning. He was someone you could always depend on to be there and you were someone he could always trust to never judge him for who he is. 

     Meanwhile, the doctor has finally let a few people at a time visit, he said no more than three for now. Every one insisted that Bobby, Buck, and Eddie go first. As soon as they opened the door, tears started trickling again at the sight of your motionless body. Buck tore his eyes away from you and looked around thinking for a few seconds before walking right over to the table at your side to pick up the remote and turn the tv on at a low volume, "She hates silence." Bobby nodded, offering an attempt at a smile as he placed his hand on Buck's shoulder. Eddie still stood at the door, staring at you.  

     Bobby noticed and stepped to his side, gently tugging his arm to place him beside the heart monitor, "It's beating, Eddie. Let that bring you some hope." Eddie looked up at the line on the screen before nodding and pulling up a chair to your side. He gently took your hand in his, staying mindful of the IV, and kissed your knuckles. Bobby made his way over to your other side and brushed your hair from your face. He took a deep breath as he listened to the steady beeps. The silence was broken by Buck, "You gotta come back to us, (Y/N) ... We need you." The three sat in silence for a few more moments before Bobby gently pulled Buck back to the waiting room so another two could visit. 

     Back in the theater, Maddie made an appearance next. The day you met, all the fun outings the two of you had, the gossip sessions and boy talk, all of it flashed across the screen in chronological order. She was like a sister to you. Growing up a single child, you never knew what that was like until Maddie came along. 

     The first time you ever saw Eddie played, the man who would turn the dynamic duo into the three musketeers and later become the love of your life. You watched as several different occasions of you, him, and Buck taking Chris out for an adventure. Then Chris became the focus. That kid had taught you a lot in the few years you'd known him. Every lesson played in succession. 

     Following Chris and Eddie came several other people that had made a positive impact in your life. Faces like Jee-Yun Buckley Han who you always referred to as your niece, Athena Grant-Nash who you looked upon as a mother figure, May Grant who you dubbed as your little sister and always looked out for, Josh Russo who always had the best non-biased advice, Carla Price who you knew your small family could never live without, and several others. Behind them came everyone who had ever thanked you for saving them in their time of need. Many faces that you didn’t even realize you remembered said thank you over and over again. As the final chorus and bridge played, specific moments showed in time with the lyrics. 

Hold on, I still want you. 

     The night you turned up on Bobby and Athena's doorstep crying so hard you couldn't see because your parents had both told you that they never wanted to see you again for supporting your friends who were part of the LGBTQIA+ community. They had welcomed you in and comforted you, making sure that you knew without a doubt that, "We would happily call you our daughter if given the chance.” From that night on, their names in your contacts were Momma Athena and Captain Dad, formerly Athena and Captain Nash. The next morning, you woke up on their couch to the smell of waffles and sausage. When you shuffled into the kitchen, Bobby gave you a great big grin and insisted you join them for family breakfast with May, Harry, Michael, and David. 

Come back, I still need you. 

     The day Buck turned up on your doorstep begging you to come back to the 118 after having been transferred against your will, "I feel like I'm gonna go insane without you there. You're the glue that holds my dumbass and the rest of the 118 together." Not to mention, "Don't get me wrong, Eddie's great but I need my other best friend back. We can't be the Three Musketeers without you." He declared that if you wouldn't talk to your Captain about transferring back, then he would and he wouldn't leave until the man put in the transfer request. Knowing damn well he'd do just that, you promised to talk to him the next day and sure enough you were soon transferred back which you to this day believe Bobby and Buck both had something to do with because your Captain was adamant that he wasn't going to transfer you. 

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right. 

     The time that Hen and Chimney patched you up after Gerard made a stupid call and sent you into a burning building even though you had just gotten over bronchitis. They both fought tooth and nail to keep from giving him a piece of their mind. Chimney promised, "I'm gonna make him regret putting you in danger like that," and he did. He made Gerard's life a malicious compliance hell until he was finally gone and you all had Bobby back. Hen was always Mother Hen-ing you after that. She never let anyone do you wrong if she had anything to say about it and she would always be first to bat when it came to patching you up, "Ah ah, don't touch her. That's my firefighter that needs patching," was common when Chimney or another station's medic got to you before her. 

I swear to love you all my life. 

     The night Eddie found out that Chris had been calling you Mom and insisted you come over to talk. With Chris in bed, the two of you sat on the couch. Eddie cleared his throat, "I've fought with myself for a while now about how I feel about you. You're my friend and coworker. I shouldn't feel the need to scream I love you and kiss you until neither of us can breathe. I shouldn't need you in my life as much as I do," he paused, "But after finding out that Chris calls you Mom, that he loves you as much as I do, I don't care. I understand if you don't feel the same but I love you, (Y/N)." The two of you made eye contact before you told him you felt the same and began a beautiful relationship. 

Hold on, I still need you. 

     Several different occurrences that always stuck out in your memory of someone thanking you after a call. One in particular, a teenage girl whose mother had to call 911 after finding her in a bathtub of her own blood. She barely made it but you talked to her the entire time the medics were stabilizing her to keep her awake. You made sure to check in on her at the hospital after your shift. She was smiling brightly and laughing with her family when you knocked softly at the door. Her father had stood defensively at the entrance of a stranger but her mother pulled him back, “This young lady helped save our daughter.” The girl looked at you and motioned for you to come closer. When you made it to her bedside, she took your hand in hers, “Thank you. We need good people like you in this world and I’m very glad that you’re one of the ones out there saving lives, saving mine. Please, tell your team thank you for me.” All you could do was nod and offer a smile. 

I don't wanna let go. I know I'm not that strong. 

     The day Maddie told you, "You're basically my little sister, (Y/N). I don't ever wanna lose you. You are loved beyond compare, I promise," after you confessed to her that you were struggling with suicidal thoughts. She made you promise to come to her if you ever found your mind in that place again. She said she wouldn't be able to bear the thought of having to let you go. You remember thinking that same thing when she disappeared after having Jee. You spent countless nights lying awake worrying about her. You wished you could be there for like she had been for you.  

I just wanna hear you saying, "Baby, let's go home." Let's go home. Yeah, I just wanna take you home. 

     Every time you looked around at your people and thought this is family, this is home. Several meals at the fire house, all the parties and cook outs at the Grant-Nash residence, the weddings, birthdays, and other various celebrations, the moments after you thought you'd lost one or more of them in disasters but there they were safe and sound. You knew early on that they would be there for you to the very end. Darkness and light, sickness and health, they were there, not just for each other but for you too. They gave you a place to feel safe, to feel like you belong. 

Hold on, I still want you. Come back, I still need you. 

     The screen fades to black as you sit there wondering why you ever decided to give that up. Tears stream down your face and drip onto your lap as you hope with all your might that this isn't the end. You silently beg the universe to give you another chance. 

     In the quiet hospital room, the heart monitor is now beeping at a healthier rhythm. Eddie and Bobby both now sit on either side of your bed. Everyone has come for a visit before returning to the waiting room. Buck, Maddie, and Chimney are all playing with Jee who was brought by Carla not long ago. The little girl is bringing everyone in the waiting room a bit of sunshine as she sits rotating between her mom, dad, and uncle playing patty cake. Tommy smiles brightly as his boyfriend lets Jee "win" at patty cake, up until this moment he had no idea one could win playing patty cake.  

     Across from them, Carla and Athena speak quietly as Chris sits between them. He hasn't said a word since he returned to the waiting room from his visit to you. Hen, Karen, Denny, and Mara return from the cafe with snacks for everyone, juices for the kids, and coffees for the adults. As they pass them around, Eddie and Bobby enter the waiting room, Eddie rubbing his face in exhaustion before squatting down in front of Chris, "You okay?" Hen hands the tired man a coffee as Chris stares blankly at his lap. Eddie rubs his shoulder as Bobby clarifies that the doctor and nurse needed to take a look at you to get an idea of your status but that you're still hanging in. Eddie hadn't left your room the entire time since they were allowed to visit. Bobby had returned and stayed too after everyone else had a visit. 

     Eddie places his pointer finger under Chris's chin and finally the young boy looks up, making direct eye contact with him, "I want to go see Mom again." Everyone in the room shows various signs of surprise, Chris had never called you Mom in front of anyone else besides you and Eddie. Eddie kisses his forehead before nodding as he stands. Together the two make their way back to your side. The doctor and nurse having just finished up when they enter your room. 

     Chris takes a seat in the chair that Eddie had been occupying previously, as his dad stands behind him. Chris places his hand on top of yours, prompting Eddie to place his on Christopher's shoulders. Chris tilts his ear toward the steady beeping, "It sounds better." Behind him Eddie is struggling to keep it together as he whispers, "Yeah." He takes a few deep breaths as the room falls quiet again. The beeping persists just like the tv that no one could bring themselves to turn off. In some way they're all hoping the noise brings you a bit of comfort. Chris lays his head down where his hand meets yours, "I love you, Mom. Hold on, okay?" Eddie lays his head against the back of Christopher's. As hard as he tries to keep them in, the tears force their way out even harder.  

     The two say nothing more for quite some time. At some point, Eddie made his way over to stare blankly out the window. It's only when Carla pokes her head in that he turns around and notices that Chris has fallen asleep. She notices too, "I was going to offer to take him home for some sleep but I guess he's just fine where he is." Eddie nods, "He can stay. I'm sure he'll put up a fight if we try to make him leave." She agrees and looks over at where Chris still lays on your hand, "He'll want to be here when she wakes up, but you should get some sort of rest too, Eddie." He nods so Carla takes one last look at you and Chris before leaving the room. 

     A few hours pass before Eddie is startled awake, in what was formerly Bobby's chair, by a knock at the door. He gets up, assuming it's the doctor and nurse here to check on you again, and opens the door. In front of him is neither a doctor nor a nurse, it's Bobby with a man and a woman he doesn't recognize. The two strangers almost hide behind Bobby who has a serious look on his face. He clears his throat, "Eddie, this is (Y/N)'s parents. Mr. & Mrs. (Y/L/N) this is (Y/N)'s boyfriend Eddie." The woman tries to smile and the man nods his head solemnly. Eddie clenches his jaw as he notices the lack of tears on either of their faces. He doesn't know who called them but he wishes they hadn't. Eddie takes a deep breath before stepping aside to let them in. 

     Eddie makes his way over to stand between your parents and Chris as they make their way into the room. Bobby joins him, giving him a look that says, "Please stay calm." Your parents stop at the foot of the bed, your mother holds her hand to her chest as her face contorts into a very fake look of sadness and your father wraps his arms around her seemingly in support but still neither of them even look watery eyed. Eddie's fists now join his jaw in clenching. How dare they walk in here after not speaking to you in years? Eddie knows that your real mom is sitting in the waiting room with the rest of your real family and your real dad is standing right beside him now. 

     Bobby places his hand on Eddie's shoulder and even though he doesn't want to he says, "We should give them a moment." Eddie whips his head around to look at him but finds a very serious look on his face. Begrudgingly and with gritted teeth, Eddie turns around to pick up Chris who doesn't even stir. With Bobby behind him, he returns to the waiting room with the others. He takes a seat beside Buck who looks at him with a knowing and worried look, "The hospital called them." 

     Bobby joins Athena, "And whether we like it or not, they're her parents. They made the effort to come down here so we have to make the effort to play nice." 

     "Even if they only came to save face and pretend that they care?" Maddie asks looking up from Jee who is sound asleep in her arms. She and Buck know well what type of parents you have. They've both caught themselves thinking your parents are just as bad theirs, if not worse.  

     "We can't assume the worst. We have to give them the benefit of the doubt," Bobby says, sounding like he doesn't believe what he's saying. 

     A short while later, your parents make their way through the waiting room, looking no more distraught than they did before. They try to make it to the elevator but Eddie, who shifts Chris into Buck's lap, isn't having it, "Where are you going?" he asks as he stands and steps toward them. Bobby and Tommy are both quick to stand as well and join him just in case. Your father ignores them and presses the elevator button several times. "You're seriously leaving? You just got here and she's still unconscious." 

     Bobby and Tommy each place a hand on Eddie's shoulders as your father responds, "The doctor says she's doing fine and they're just waiting for her to wake up. We've had a long drive and need to sleep." 

     Eddie steps forward but doesn't make it far as Bobby and Tommy move to block his path. He's fuming, "Why did you even come? You haven't bothered to speak to her in years. Even when you were on speaking terms, you didn't give a shit about her, only yourselves. Even now you care more about going to sleep in a comfortable bed than staying with your daughter." Neither your mother nor father say anything or even look in Eddie's direction. He motions around him, "Us? Her real family? We've been here nearly the entire time. The only sleep any of us have gotten is in a rickety ass waiting room chair or hard hospital recliner. Don't come in here pretending like you care when you clearly don't. Actually, don't even bother getting a hotel, just go home." 

     “You better watch your mouth, boy,” your father finally snaps, stomping toward Eddie, “I don’t give a damn who you are. That is our daughter in there.” 

     Bobby interrupts him in the calmest voice anyone has ever heard from him, “I think she stopped being your daughter the moment you disowned her for supporting her friends. We gave you the benefit of the doubt and you proved our instincts correct. We should’ve told you to leave as soon as you got here. Now please, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” 

     Your father stands stun locked, mouth gasping for a response. Tommy grins wide, “I don’t think they’re giving you a choice in the matter. Leave.” The three of them and the rest of their family watch as your father finally gives up and rejoins your mother at the open elevator. They leave without saying another word. Only when the elevator doors close fully do Bobby and Tommy release Eddie and return to their seats. 

     Eddie doesn’t move. He stands there trying to regain his composure. The audacity of your parents to show up has sent him raging. The doctor approaches him, bringing him back to reality. He looks to the man with every ounce of hope he can muster. Grinning, the doctor announces, “She’s awake,” looking around at the group, he continues, “She’s asking for you.” 

     Confused, Eddie asks for clarification, “Who?” 

     The doctor looks him in the eyes, “All of you.” Together, everyone makes their way to your room. Before entering the doctor ensures everyone, “I’ll let you know when you can take her home.” 

     From your bed you look up with a bright smile on your face and tears in your eyes, “I already am home, Doc. Wherever these people are is home.” As one, everyone moves to crowd around you with their own tears now falling. Eddie and Chris take a seat on the edge of your bed, letting the rest fill in the empty space. You look around you for a moment, placing your chin on Christopher’s head. In that hospital room, you make a promise to yourself that anytime you feel like giving up you’re going to listen to that song or gather everyone around you to remind yourself why you can’t give up. You need them and they want you. They are your family and home. 

     Sometime later, Chris is snuggled into your side asleep. Eddie and Bobby have both taken their chairs back on either side of you. You had insisted everyone else go home and get some sleep but little do you know several of them had gone to your apartment instead to clean it up before you get released tomorrow. You check to make sure Chris is sound asleep before reaching for Eddie and Bobby’s hands. When they quickly take yours in theirs you look between them both a couple times before looking down at Chris, “I’m sorry,” it comes out quieter than you meant it to but they both heard it clearly. 

     Bobby clears his throat speaking for the both of them since all Eddie can do is lean forward and kiss your knuckles with tears making it hard to see, “We’re just glad you’re still here, kiddo.” 

     You nod, looking up at him, “I promise I’ll go see Frank. I know you’re gonna make me take time off anyway but I want to get back out there as soon as I can.” 

     He nods with a smile on his face, “I knew you’d wanna get back on the job but I am glad you understand that it’ll take time and you need to talk to someone.”  

     Eddie nudged your chin to look at him, “Thank you for holding on. Please promise me you’ll let me know if things ever get that bad again.” You nod holding your pinky out for a pinky promise which he immediately takes. The room falls quiet again, aside from the tv that still plays. That night you drift off to sleep with Chris still curled up next to you and Eddie laying on your hand. Bobby takes a Dad Nap in his chair, refusing to go home.  

     The next morning, after what felt like eons of paperwork, you let Eddie help you down out of Bobby’s truck outside of your apartment. Then, carefully, he and Bobby help you up the stairs with Chris leading the way. Your body still hasn’t recovered fully so you’re still quite weak and achy. When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the sight of your smiling family, colorful balloons, and a buffet of food on the counters. Placing your hand on your hip, you give them a playfully stern look, “I thought I told you guys to go home and rest.” 

     Buck pulls you into a gentle hug, “We did. Everyone got some sleep but also pitched in to help.”  

     Athena collects you into a hug as soon as he releases you, kissing your cheek when she pulls away, “Did you really think you’d come home to an empty house? Not on our watch, honey.”  

     All you can do is smile as you make your way further into the apartment and collect hugs from everyone. When the excitement has died down, you sit carefully on a barstool at the island and clear your throat, “I just want to say thank you. You guys are always there for me when I need you. Honestly, you’re the only thing that kept me here while I was under.” You think about Bobby telling you that your parents had showed up, everything they said, and how they acted, “You guys are my family and I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Everyone smiles, a few of them wipe away fresh tears, but together all of you have a good time making conversation, enjoying Buck’s cooking, and laughing about stories from the past. Every now and then you catch a story that you remember playing in that movie theater and then you realize that they probably cherish those memories just as much as you do.  

Masterlist

More 911

[revvethasmythh]

Have you witnessed discoursing about Orym in the past several months? Would you like to be more well-informed about the subject matter? Well, then, do I have a post for you! As a reference for myself and potentially for others:

A Comprehensive Write-Up Of Relevant Times And Contexts Where Orym Has Brought Up His Dead Family While The Group Discusses The Vanguard/Predathos--With Receipts

Disclaimer: these are all of the instances in which I was able to find independently through the Critical Role transcript search, not from rewatching everything. It is therefore possible there are some instances unaccounted for.

Episode 34. Post-resurrection after being killed by Otohan Thull, he brings up the fact that Otohan had a hand in killing his family to emphasize to Imogen how dangerous Otohan is and that she may potentially continue to be an issue for her specifically due to her apparent interest in Imogen (exalting her during the battle in the previous episode)

2. Episode 46. An early God Talk™️, prompted by Ludinus using (presumably) Feeblemind on Professor Kadija Sumal. He holds his opinion until the very end of the conversation, after entertaining Imogen's idea that "they make some good points" and listening to the group discuss if the gods are good or bad for several minutes.

"I don't need to debate it. I lost my husband and father to these people, I'm not on board. Some of the gods are terrifying, and some of them have put their thumbs on the scales for people for centuries, even in the last few decades. Who are they, who are we to decide who lives or dies, god or mortal or otherwise? I don't think they have any good points."

3. Episode 49. He brings them up combatively ("Well, Imogen, I wish. my family didn't have to die for their brighter tomorrow"), against Imogen's statement of, "What if it's not that bad? [...] What if what we're doing is just fighting change?" after she solely received a vision of a Utopia-like future from her mother. Imogen backs down quickly after his reproach and acknowledges that the vision was likely a part of cult brainwashing.

4. Episode 61. Orym pulls Prism aside, after she asks the party and Elder Abbadina if Predathos would cause a world-ending event, or if it would only be bad for some (the Elder did not know anything about Predathos at all), to say, "I don't think we know anything [...] The only thing I have to go on is the track record of the guys trying to bring Predathos out. And that track record is not very good." At further prompting from Prism about if he ever thought the Vanguard's ideas were right, he says, "Prism, I don't understand the gods. I don't know anything about the titans. I don't know an eidolon from eyeliner. [...] But I'm a widower, because of the people who want to bring this about. So it's hard for me to wrangle with the other side."

5. Episode 61, pt. 2. Orym listens to the party converse with Elder Abbadina for a little while longer before silently sneaking out "to go think about his dead father and his dead husband."

6. Episode 77. Another God Talk™️ with the whole party, prompted by FCG asking what everyone's motive was in going to the moon. For his reasoning, he says, "We don't know what's going to happen to any inch of this world if Predathos is unleashed. Yeah, this started with my husband and my father. It's so much bigger than that. If my life can secure the lives of everyone who comes after us, well spent."

7. Episode 92. After the death of another loved one to Otohan Thull, in response to Liliana's statement that temples might hunt down Ruidusborn in the theoretical event that Ludinus' plot is foiled, "Cold comfort for my family in the ground."

8. Episode 92, pt. 2. In response to a throwaway, thoughtless comment Ashton made that, "I hope [Liliana] is right. I really do. I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable." Orym has Chetney bring out Otohan's sword, jams one into the sand and declares, "This is the sword that killed my father and my husband. She is not right."

UPDATE: 8/14/24

9. Episode 102, during the confrontation with Ludinus. Interjected during the ongoing conversation, specifically during some bantering between Chetney and Ludinus as to the last time they met (when Chetney attacked him as a werewolf). He says, "You put a hit on my family, a successful one, fuck you. Fuck you." Ludinus later apologizes for the deaths of his family, claiming Otohan was "overzealous in her methods." Both Imogen and Laudna respond immediately that he was responsible for Otohan's actions.

10. Episode 103, during yet another God Conversation. Orym tries to redirect conversation about Ludinus and the gods, stating that they are different topics. Ashton concurs, and Imogen states that she agrees with Orym that Ludinus doesn't get to decide for everyone. Dorian then interjects, "But the gods do?" Which prompts Orym's blunt response to him specifically that, "If Ludinus had sent people to your home, and taken brother and your father and countless others, how philosophical would you be about it, Dorian?"

-

So, with all of the information in front of us, what conclusions can we draw from them? When asked by others to assess if the Vanguard has valid points, Orym repeatedly abstains from having an opinion. Whether or not the Vanguard has a reason to be upset is irrelevant to him--what is relevant is the loss of life they have incurred along the way. Orym takes no stance on the gods, he repeatedly states he doesn't understand them or know anything about them or harbor much of a connection to them. As far as he is concerned, his role in this is to oppose the violence being done to the people of Exandria. Why waste your time debating the merits of a cult's ideology when you know, in the end, you will have to fight against them to end the slaughter? To protect people?

And for what it's worth, in almost every instance, Ashton has effectively taken the same side as Orym. I have not included all of these moments, but they are easily located if you wanted to search up these moments on your own. The continual focus on de-legitimizing Orym's opinion seems strongly tied to the fact that he has a personal reason to hate the Vanguard. But facts being facts, Ashton hates them just the same--and he has no love of the gods, either. He hates the Vanguard based on their actions, same as Orym. In fact, Ashton and Laudna have both expressed outright dislike for the gods, and all other Bells Hells except for FCG expressed ambivalence. This is not about the gods. Not for Orym, not for the others who remain. This is about no more bodies on the pyre of Ludinus' machinations.

P.S. if you know of any other instances this topic has come up that I have not included, please feel free to let me know! I want this post to be as comprehensive as it can be, but I am fallible and may have missed something. Don't be afraid to tell me about a scene I missed!

[syneilesis]

[fic] Coffee Break

Coffee Break

Love and Deepspace | Xavier (Shen Xinghui) x Main-Character!Reader | G | 1.2k words ao3 link

You buy Xavier a new coffee machine.

A/N: I am so in love with this man. Day 2 of the closed beta test and here I am writing fic lmao. God, I love Shen Xinghui so much. This fic is inspired by his Shimmering Sunlight story. Some spoilers about the main storyline and character-exclusive stories, though nothing too significant. Though I frequently refer to his CN name in my other posts, in this fic I use his EN version -- Xavier.

The box is light in your hands, but the salesperson assured you that weight does not equate to quality. Price, too—because although the Hunters Association is generous with their pay, you don't want to raise flags by taking missions incessantly. Tara's nose for intrigue, of course, is well-known among your circles.

It would be all the worse if Xavier gets in on the gossip too. (You'd have to thank the stars for the man's indifference to workplace drama—and to most in general. Xavier may be airheaded at times but when he's focused on something he is monstrously focused on it. It's impressive, and—well—cute.)

The recommended beans are secured inside your messenger bag. You don't call Xavier this time to give him a heads up. He had, a few days ago, granted you the privilege to enter his home whenever you like, his hand tracing the book spines on the shelf, all the while saying it. He wasn't looking at you, but his tone remained light, playful even, that it prompted you to tease him by pointing out that if he merely wanted an efficient alarm clock, he could just buy one of those state-of-the-art ones sold in major stores. That's when Xavier whirled around to look at you, mirth in his eyes but with a secretive, scheming tilt on his lips.

“I'm coming in,” you announce, regardless, by the door, pushing it in with one hand, and Xavier's voice floats across the hall.

“You're really taking advantage of this, huh.”

“Well, a wise man once said that one must seize every opportunity given their way.”

Xavier emerges from a room in all his cardigan-and-sweatpantsed glory, hair mussed enough to indicate that he's just risen from his bed.

“Good morning!” you chirp.

He glances at the clock—two in the afternoon—and eyes the box in your hands. The caution—and curiosity—is obvious in the lilt of his question. “What's that?”

“For you.”

He takes the proffered item and inspects like it'll explode at any moment. You sigh and retrieve it again, and he follows you when you make your way to the kitchen.

“I already have a coffee machine,” he says, confused, as you begin to clean the gift.

“And it brews bitter coffee.” You spare a glance at him to find that he's watching you. You tap the lid of the machine. “This is a more recent and an undeniably better model.”

“I don't recall asking you to buy one for me.”

“That's because you didn't.” There's a pause where you deliberate telling him your next sentence and facing him directly as you say it. You go for it, in the end. “It's a gift. This is a gift from me to you.”

It doesn't register to him at first—it's as if he's waiting for an explanation that requires the mention of Captain Jenna's orders. But after a blink and a shuffle, it clicks, his eyes widening and he's fully awake all of a sudden.

And when he responds, it seems urgent: “What's the occasion?”

You shake your head. “Nothing—or rather, it's the occasion for drinking good coffee.” The coffee beans make their appearance. “Go sit on the sofa or something while I work this thing out.”

Xavier chuckles. “What—now you're ordering me in my own home?”

“And making you good coffee!”

“You're a guest—even I know that it's rude to have the guest make food or drinks for the owner of the house.”

“It's fine! And besides, I'd like to test this out as soon as possible. Refund and exchange policy only lasts for seven days from the date of purchase. I'd want to know if this works just fine.”

Xavier attempts to protest a little more, but you hold firm. Once he trudges back to the living room, you concentrate on the coffee. The salesperson seemed trustworthy enough when pitching the product, and you really can't forget the time Xavier served you a cup of bitter coffee. Not even three sugar cubes could salvage that unholy concoction.

When it's done, the heavenly aroma wafting along your nose, you test a sip from your own mug. It's a success. Placing the mugs on a tray, you head to where Xavier is.

He's reading a book. Though 'reading' seems to be a stretch because his head bobs twice, his eyelids drooping, the edge of a nap threatening his posture.

“Xavier,” you call him, and his head snaps back to attention. You bite your lip to stave off a laugh. Sitting next to him on the sofa, you put the tray on the table and hand him his own cup. “Try this one.”

A sniff and a tentative sip. And then he hums in approval, now drinking it normally. You smile around the rim of your mug, your eyes falling on his book.

“This is good,” he comments, wearing a smile of his own when he turns to you. “Did you use another kind of coffee beans?”

“Yep. The salesman recommended me another one, and it was the right decision. By the way, why are you reading an instruction manual on building a claw machine?”

“It's nothing,” he says, swiping the item away. There's another book on the table—a collection of short stories—and he snatches that up instead. You recognize the title.

“Oh! I've read that before.”

“Is it good? I haven't read it yet.”

“Yes. I particularly loved the titular story. The suspense buildup was done skillfully and the payoff was perfect.”

“I see, then I look forward to starting it.”

Surprisingly, Xavier begins reading it then and there, occasionally sipping his coffee and turning the page. You, beside him, are minding your own cup, thoughts drifting here and there. Your next mission. New strategies in battle. Your next appointment with Dr. Zayne.

It's when a weight has plopped down your shoulder that you jolt out of your musings: Xavier falling asleep on your shoulder, mug empty, the coffee residues pooling at the bottom, book opened in the chapter of your favorite story.

“Xavier?” you murmur, careful not to startle him if he's truly asleep.

He doesn't stir—only burrows further into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, the puffs of his breath close and warm against your skin.

It would've been cruel to push him away, not when he looks comfortable. And besides, you're afforded an opportunity to study him—so you let him as he is.

From your angle, staring down at his sleeping face, you note of his eyelashes, long and thick and seemingly soft, slightly curved upwards, hovering over his smooth cheeks. They frame the blueness of his eyes very well. They make him even prettier under daylight. You're reminded of the time you and he strolled under the blooming peach blossoms, the pink backdrop highlighting the radiance of his presence, statuesque. He as sublime art itself, rivaling that of Rafayel's paintings—or better yet, surpassing them. And when he smiles—

Unbidden, heat crawls across your cheeks and settles there. Oh no. Oh, no no no.

Oh dear, this won't do.

You swallow, and turn away. Against your neck, Xavier sleeps on, unaware of your unfurling realizations. By the window, a familiar bird perches, twittering under the afternoon sun, a small but melodious background song.