#just the most normal trying her best lady you can imagine

[benegesseritofficial]

In my feminist utopia people will not be shocked that I'm excited for my wife's dad and step-mom to visit. In my beautiful post-gender feminist utopia it will not be shocking to people that, between our 5 parents, wife's bio mom is the one we hate and need someone to call and check in half way thru a weekend visit

[sacr1ficialang3l]

✞︎Did you feel that close to God when you had me on my knees?✞︎

SAM WINCHESTER X READER

SUMMARY: Sam, Dean, and reader are working a case in Nebraska. But when reader sees her boyfriend in that priest outfit, things get a little wild. 4.0k

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). oral m receiving. blasphemy (lots, please don't read if you're extremely religious or if you don't like things like this). mentions of religious trauma (Catholic guilt folks unite). priest kink (?). the word father is said multiple times but this is not daddy kink.

NOTES: extremely self-indulgent. I feel like there's not enough religious trauma readers. this doesn't focus on that anyway. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! this is also my first time writing straight smut, so pls be nice. Enjoy<3

You are trying to act normal, you swear.

It was a quite simple case, a ghost had been hunting down people in a small town in Nebraska. The only connection in between all the victims was that they all attended the same church, which only meant one thing.

Priest outfits.

Sam was standing there before you, hair carefully styled, black suit jacket over his broad shoulders and black pants making him look taller than he already was. But the most important part, the one that made your breath hitch and thighs press together. The clerical collar. 

There was something about it, something sinful about the white stripe of fabric against Sam’s tanned skin. You always thought your boyfriend was hot, but watching him carefully talking with the families of the victims, watching people calling him father. Watching him in that church, bible in hand, a cross looming over you as it rests in the wall behind you, it was driving you insane. 

Your relationship with religion wasn’t the best, that was obvious, but you had never expected for all that guilt and trauma to transform into… this.

But here you are, sitting on a church bench, watching as Sam and Dean talk to the Pastor. You had refused to put on the nun costume Dean had gotten you. (You were sure he bought it at a sex shop. You went to catholic school, nun’s attires didn’t show that much cleavage. Or any cleavage at all.) Therefore, they had decided you were going to be just a new girl in town. A good christian girl.

You were dressed up in a flowy, lacy white dress. It was delicate, and sweet, and pure. You had added some frilly socks and a pair of mary janes. Your hair was wavy and long, falling over your eyes as you looked down at your hands when Sam was handed the communion wafers. There was a dainty chain around your neck, the silver crucifix almost burning where it touched your chest. 

You feel a sense of disappointment when the pastor asks for the communal hosts back. You kind of wished he had made Sam direct the Eucharist. You imagined yourself, walking to the altar to receive communion like a good girl, kneeling in front of Sam. You imagined blinking your big eyes up at him, parting your pouty lips softly, letting him place the host in your tongue. Maybe his fingers would brush against your lips, maybe he’d let his thumb press down on your tongue, making sure you’re receiving The Body of Christ correctly. 

You look up quickly when the pastor announces in a loud voice that Mass would start soon. He invites anyone who wants to confess to do it now, so they can be ready for the Eucharist. The pastor looks down at you, having noticed how his sudden words echoing all around the church had startled you. Your hands were folded as they rested on your lap, and your eyes were so focused on the floor under your feet that they looked closed. He thought you were praying. He smiles at you with kindness, almost as if admiring how you were nothing but a sweet little lamb, so devoted to your faith and so easily frightened.

Oh, if he only knew.

Before the shame and something else you refused to name wash down your spine, someone stands up behind you. The lady, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red, walks directly into the confessional. You and Sam seem to realize at the exact same time who she is. The widowed wife of one of the victims. You watch as your boyfriend quickly walks into the confessional, his big frame squeezing into the priest's compartment. 

The door quickly closes, but not before you can admire Sam’s face, beautiful as ever, being covered by geometric lines that criss-cross his face, the shadows created by the small window in the wooden panel that separates him from the woman. 

Dean comes over to you to give you a quick rundown on all the information they had gathered. Which is to say, not much. You had to admit that Dean also looked good in the costume, but not as good as Sam. But to be fair, you were a little biased. The older Winchester tells you about how he met one of the victims’ daughter, a young woman that was very distressed and asked him if he would want to come pray with her at her house.

You throw Dean a look of disbelief.

“Seriously, Dean? The mourning daughter?”

“We’re just going to pray! You know, a little guided spirituality to heal the heart.”

“Recite one prayer you know, right now.”

Silence. Utter and definitive silence. 

You sigh, rolling your eyes as Dean gives you a wink and leaves the church, that classic mischievous smirk on his face. 

How does he always get so lucky?

Your thoughts are interrupted when the woman in the confessional quickly walks out of her compartment, but the other door stays closed. 

An idea crosses your mind, but it is crazy. It is insane, and dangerous, and sacrilegious.

It takes you about five seconds to get up and walk into the confessional. 

“Hello, father.” You whisper, hands balled into fists in your lap. 

Sam says your name, confused. “What are you doing?” 

You take the courage to turn to him, and you end up breathless. It was quite stuffy inside the confessional, the smell of wood and velvet from the curtains overbearing. It reminds you of Sunday Mass, and Catholic school, and it makes heat pool in your stomach. You can barely see his face through the dumb window, but for what you could see, this was going to stay engraved in your mind forever.

“I’m here to confess, Father.” Your voice is soft and innocent, but there was a slight smirk on your face that made Sam blink quickly, looking completely lost.

“What-”

You don’t let him finish. “The pastor said to confess before Mass, and I’m just following his orders like a good girl.”

That makes Sam choke on his next breath. He looks at you through the grille, but there is something creeping in around his eyes. Lust.

If I wasn’t going to hell before, I am now.

Sam says your name again, but this time there is a strain on his voice. 

“Y-you come to confess?” You could tell he was trying to follow your lead, to play the role you so desperately wanted him to, and in between all the desire, you feel a wave of love for your boyfriend hit you. 

Hell, you were going to kiss him so hard after this.

“Yes, Father.” You whisper, eyes low and focused on your hands. Your voice was small, pure. You were just playing the role Sam and Dean assigned you, after all. “I’ve been bad, Father. I need to be redeemed.”

“I am sure I can help with that.” Sam’s voice still sounds slightly strained, but there was something different. It was the same voice he used when talking to the victim’s families or when he was forced to greet the morning Mass earlier today. Calm, velvety, but with a hint of authority. Of power.

“I am here to help you find peace,...” He almost says your name, but quickly corrects himself. “Tell me about your sins, and I will guide you in how to repent."

You press your thighs together, biting your lip in the darkness of the confessional. You still don’t face Sam, but you can feel his eyes on you. 

“I- I’ve been having sinful thoughts, Father.” You whisper, voice wavery and full of shame. Damn, maybe you should’ve been an actress. 

You hear Sam swallow harshly in the quiet, small box you were both in. No sounds were filtering in, which made you wonder if they would filter out.

“So you’ve been a bad girl, hm?” His voice is so deep, so rumbling. You were sure your panties were already soaked through. “You look so innocent, though.” Sam sounds almost disappointed, and it makes you squirm. “Tell me about them, you little lamb.”

“I’ve been possessed by lust, Father.” You confess, and you have to bite back a smirk when Sam lets out a shaky breath. “I just- there’s this guy, and we’re dating. He’s tall and big and handsome.”

“Sounds like quite the catch.” You can hear Sam’s smile in his words, and it makes you smile too. 

“He is, yeah.” You giggle, but quickly get back into your role. It wasn’t every day that you got an opportunity like this, and you were going to take it. “But when I look at him, father. I just- I feel… things.”

“What kind of things, little lamb?” He asks, back in his priest voice.

“I- I want him to do things to me, Father. Things I shouldn’t want. Things that are not of God.” You murmur, thighs pressing together with more strength.

Sam stays quiet for just a second, breathing heaving. Maybe you weren’t the only one into this. 

“That’s- that’s bad, little lamb.” He declares, when he finally gets a grasp on himself again. “Remember, you must confess everything to get redemption in the eyes of the lord.”

“I- I’ve done things too.” You confess in a small voice. “I’ve touched myself, Father. I just get so… so-” Your cross your legs, the ache on your lower half almost unbearable. “So wet and hot and I just… I fall into temptation.”

Sam’s breath is ragged by now, and you can’t really see his face, but you know what he must look like. 

“You’re quite the naughty one, aren't you?” He murmurs, voice hoarse. He leans closer to the grille, his voice almost in your ear. 

You lick your lips slowly, nodding even if he can’t see you.

“Yes, Father. Please, help me to be pure again.” Your hand moves from where it was gripping your own thigh and starts to run along the outline of the window that separated you from sam. This one was quite big, it went from over the top of your heads until a few inches away from the ground. It was enough. “I will do anything to be holy again.”

You had learned a thing or two in catholic school, and… you found it. The lock that kept the grille closed, but that could be opened when the priest and the penitent wanted to “talk face to face.” You think the situation is deserving

“Will you, now?” Sam, who was often collected and calm, always in control of his impulses, sounded wrecked. “Your sins are grave, little lamb.” He murmurs. “But lucky for you, the Lord wants me to be merciful to you.”

You swallow harshly, hands wrapping around the lock of the grille. You wanted Sam, you needed him. You had never felt hornier in your whole life.

“Please, Father.” Your voice is almost unrecognizable, whiny and pleasing. “Save me from sin, please.”

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter under his breath. 

I just made a man of the lord swear. 

Obviously, you knew Sam wasn’t really a man of God, and he swore like a trucker, but all your mind could think of was the clerical collar around his neck. 

“If you want me to purify you, you’re going to have to follow my every word. You’re going to let me do what I need to do for this cleansing, do you understand, little lamb?”

That was the last straw. 

You quickly unlock the window and pull it until it hits the door of your compartment. 

There he was, Sam with his hair slicked back, a few rebellious strands falling into his eyes. He was sitting in the little bench of the confessional, eyes a little wild and breath heavy. 

And a big bulge in his pants.

As soon as the grille hits the door of the confessional, Sam stands up, his head almost hitting the top of the cramped wood box you two were in. 

“What the fuck?” 

Before he can say anything else, you kneel down, still on your side of the confessional. Your knees hit the few inches of wood that still separated the two of you, but didn’t mind. And finally, you were there, surrounded by the smell of wood, velvet, and Sam. 

You look up at him through your lashes, eyes big and innocent. Your hands were carefully placed on your lap and your thighs pressed together where they were visible, your little white dress riling up your legs, the lace border contrasting against the dark flooring of the confessional.

“I’ll do whatever it takes, Father.” You lick your lips slowly, mastering the look of naivety and fear in your eyes. “Purify me.”

“This is blasphemy.” Sam chokes out, but he still takes a step closer to you, standing right at the edge too. Like this, your face is right in front of his crotch. Your mouth waters.

“Since your sins are so… deeply rooted,” His hand reaches down to you, but he doesn't touch you. His hand hovers over the top of your head, down to your cheek. “I will have to use some unconventional methods.”

His hand brushes your neck, and you think he was going to brush your hair behind your shoulder, maybe even grip your chin and make you look at him. 

Instead, Sam hooks a finger on the cross necklace around your neck and pulls you closer. 

You don't recognize the sound that comes out of your mouth. The back of the chain digs into the soft skin of your neck, and when he lets go of the necklace, the cross falls back against the skin of your collarbones. 

“You know what you have to do, don’t you?” he says gently, slightly condescending. His hand moves to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your lower lip.

You nod, almost in a trance, and your lips part slightly. San presses his thumb inside your mouth, and you immediately wrap your lips around him. You suck softly on his finger, eyes never leaving his.

“Jesus, you were made for this.” He breathes out, thumb pressing down on your tongue.

He moves his hand away, and with a little whine, you lean forward until your face is pressed to his clothed cock. 

This was all your idea, and you had loved to watch as Sam’s control slipped as you talked dirty. But right now, you couldn’t come up with anything to say. The hard wood pressing against your knees, the cross burning around your neck, Sam’s words, it was too much. You were getting hazy, and all you could think of was your boyfriend.

You open your mouth and press your tongue over Sam’s bulge over his pants. He hisses, still looking down at you. Almost desperately, you reach out and unbuckle his belt. You pull the clothing piece low enough that you had access to his aching cock, covered by his boxers and big. 

You mouth at him over the fabric, little kitten licks over the bulge, soaking the fabric with spit. 

“Come on, little lamb.” He murmurs, voice strained and breathy. “Show me how penitent you are.”

You pull down the fabric of his boxers until his cock sprang free. It curved up against his stomach, a little dark and huge. 

Spit pools in your mouth at the sight. It didn’t matter how many times you saw your boyfriend’s dick, it was a religious experience every time. 

Especially this time.

A whiny little sound comes out of the back of your throat, and you immediately lean forward. 

You lick up the shaft, from the base to the tip. You savor every vein under your tongue, relish on the little choked gasp Sam makes. You continue to give kitten licks all over his cock, almost reverently. 

“Yeah, just like that.” Sam whispers under his breath, and you finally wrap your lips around his tip, bulbous and angry red. His head drops back and it hits the wall of the confessional with a loud bang. “Good girl.” 

You whimper around Sam, the vibrations making him moan as low as he can, not wanting to get caught. You suck on the tip gently, tongue sliding over the slit, tasting his precum in your tongue.

You moan again at the taste. You loved it.

Slowly, you move your head down, taking more and more of him as you go. Sam moves one hand into your hair, not pushing down but pulling at the roots gently. You suck a little harder, tongue pressing against a particularly pronounced vein. He pulls harder, so hard it makes you move one hand from where it rested on your knee to press it against your pussy. 

Soon, you’ve taken all of Sam. He was nestled against the back of your throat, your lips stretched and puffy. You stay still for just a second, giving you throat time to accommodate as it contracts around his length. Sam’s chest rises and falls quickly, his eyes shutting close for just a second before his eyes return to you. 

“You’re sinful.” He chokes out, pulling on your hair, trying to get you to move. 

And you do. You move your head back until only the tip is in between your lips, and then sink back down. 

Your knees ache from where they press against the hard, cold wood. They will probably bruise, and you couldn’t wait for it. Sam continues to suppress moans and groans as you continue to move your head. You don’t use your hands, you let your mouth do all the work. 

You swallow around Sam when he hits particularly deep inside your mouth, and it has him whimpering. Oh, you need to hear that again.

You lean back, catching your breath for a moment. Sam fists his cock and rubs it on your lips, leaving them glistening with your own spit and his precum. 

“Am I doing it right, Father?” You have half the mind to continue your little roleplay, and it is worthy when Sam’s eyes shut down and his fist tightens around himself. 

“Fuck. Yes, darling. You’re perfect. So good for me, so… devoted.”

You lean forward again, swallowing him down. This time, he uses the grasp on you hair to hold you still and starts to fuck your mouth.

He couldn't move much in the small space of the confessional, but his hips piston as his cock hits the back of your throat again, and again, and again. 

Your hand presses down into your pussy harder, a wet patch staining your panties where you were soaked through. You press on your clit as Sam’s thrusts quicken.

“Fuck, yeah. So good for me, such a good girl.” He was clearly close, his glassy eyes focused on you, his voice wrecked as he babbled a little. “So- mmph, so desperate to be pure, to be good.”

As Sam approaches his orgasm, you double down on your efforts. You circle him with your tongue, contract the walls of your throat around him, let your moans vibrate through him every time you press your hand a little harder against yourself. 

“Come on, Father.” You say, leaning back until your lips brushed his tip with every word. “Let me please you. Give it to me.”

Sam’s grip on your hair tightens when you sink back down on him. His thrusts become sloppy and discoordinated. He was a whimpering, groaning mess. 

Finally, with one last thrust that left him settled deep in your throat, Sam comes with a shudder. His shoulders shake, and his head drops back, leaving you with a very clear sight of the clerical collar still around his neck, white fabric against flushed and sweaty skin. 

The image makes you shiver as your fingers press more firmly against your clit, drawing desperate circles over the fabric of your panties. When the first rope of cum hits your tongue, you feel your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your loud moan is only silenced by the cock still in your mouth, but it causes Sam to shake with overstimulation. 

“Swallow.” He demands, and wouldn’t dream of doing anything else.

You stay there, suckling on his softening length as he comes, almost moaning at the glorious taste of your boyfriend. Your head is hazy with the situation and your own orgasm, and Sam has to practically peel you away from him. You whine as he slips out of your mouth, the last bit of cum landing over your lips. 

“Sorry, pretty girl, but I need a break.” Sam says gently, with his normal voice. 

You look up at him, still kneeling down in the confessional. His breathing was already ragged, but his chest hitches at the sight of you. 

Your eyes were glossy and wide, cheeks flushed, and lips puffy, glistening with spit and his cum. You swallow whatever was in your mouth and slowly lick your lips, tongue swiping up all of his release. He groans, head dropping forward. 

“You’ll be the death of me, you little vixen.” He rubs a hand over his face, and you struggle to stand up. Your legs were shaky from your orgasm and your knees were sore from kneeling. 

You had never felt better. 

Sam quickly notices you struggling and grabs your waist, helping you stand up and holding you carefully against his chest. 

“I can't believe I got you to do that.” You whisper, biting your lip as a sense of embarrassment and adrenaline washed down your back at what you had done.

Sam snorts. “I can’t believe it either.” He huffs, looking at you with that warmth and sweetness you loved so much. His hair was even messier now and his lips were raw from biting back sounds. 

Your hand moves up to fidget with his collar, fingers brushing against his skin, and you feel yourself getting worked up again.

“Don’t even think about it, you insatiable little thing.” Sam’s hand wraps around yours and pulls it away. You look at him and pout, which only makes him laugh and press a peck to your lips. “Who would’ve guessed you were so freaky.”

Sam’s teasing makes you blush furiously, and you take a step back from him. It is his time to pout, but he is way too big to be able to reach past the little window opening. You giggle at his dejected face, and after fixing your hair and dress, and making sure there wasn't spit or cum on your chin, you lean over to press a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“Dean is ‘interviewing’ one of the victims’ daughters.” You inform him, pressing your hands to your cheeks to try and dissipate the blush.

“Is that what kids are calling it nowadays?” Sam jokes, crossing his arms. It made his chest look even bigger, and you need to physically restrain yourself from leaning in and taking a bite off his bicep.

“Apparently.” You shake your head. “You need to wait until Mass ends and then meet us at the motel. If Dean is back by then, we’ll debrief all the information we’ve got.” You lean forward once again, squeezing past the little opening until your nose brushes Sam’s. “If he’s not back yet, then I will be waiting for you in our room.” You press another kiss to his lips, this time a little more lingering. “Make sure to bring the priest outfit with you.”

Before Sam can even say anything, you grab the grille and close it again. You make sure to lock it, and walk out of the confessionary as quietly and carefully as you can when your legs are still a little shaky. You slip out the small wooden box, not before hearing Sam’s almost pained groan. 

Thankfully, everyone was still focused on Mass, so no one paid attention to you. You slip out of the church and walk back to the motel, still in disbelief that you and Sam got away with something like that.

The next day, when the pastor asks you why your knees are bruised badly, you can’t help but smirk as Sam blushes behind him.

“Just prayed a little too hard, sir.”

NOTES: I can't tell if this is terrible or not. Here it is anyways.

[john-get-the-salt]

Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

[crescenthistory]

c5 with paul atreides please 🫶🫶

ah, paul atreides, my favourite childhood best friends to lovers man. hope this is what you were imagining, love<3

Prompt: C.5 "There will not be a day where I am not there for you"

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: canon typical political unrest and tension, paul and reader have a lot on their shoulders, reader gets sick, implied chronic illness/flare-up/autoimmune reader but can be read as a normal fever (i'm indulging myself okay), hiding/avoidance, confrontation if you squint, hurt/comfort, they are in the unspoken stage between best friends and lovers, confessions of love, crying session, cuddles and kisses

The days on Caladan felt numbered.

Everywhere you looked, the subtle reminders of impending change crept in like shadows. The halls of Castle Caladan, once warm and full of life, felt quieter now, more solemn. The sea beyond the window still whispered its familiar lullaby, but even that seemed muted, like it was holding its breath, waiting.

Thus, you waited too, feeling the weight of the future settle over the estate like a shroud. Arrakis loomed on the horizon, distant but unavoidable. You could see it in every furrow of Duke Leto’s brow, in the way Lady Jessica moved with a deliberate grace that betrayed her own hidden tension.

Most of all, you saw it in Paul.

Your closest friend, your confidant since childhood. He carried the weight of all that was to come more heavily than anyone. It showed in the slight weariness under his eyes, the way his normally steady hands trembled when he thought no one was looking. He hadn’t spoken of it directly to you, not yet, but you knew him too well to be fooled.

The Paul of your memories – the boy who would laugh with you in secret corners of the castle, who would pull you into the sea on a whim, clothes and all – was slipping away, bit by bit. In his place stood a man, shoulders squared with responsibility, eyes far too wise for someone so young. It was a transformation that frightened you, not just because it meant losing the boy you once knew, but because you weren’t sure whether anyone could truly withstand all that waited him. Whether anyone would even notice how much it was wearing him down. Anyone but you.

It was why you were careful, watching him as you always did, trying to gauge when the weight would become too much. You had become a fixture in his life over the years, someone he could rely on when the pressures of being Duke Leto’s heir seemed too heavy to bear. A constant.

The days leading up to the move to Arrakis felt heavier, their passage marked by subtle shifts in the air. Paul was being pulled in so many directions – meetings, preparations, plans – and you saw him less and less. Worry grew in your stomach, but, as always, the two of you cut out time for each other, even if only a quiet hug for a few minutes in a corner somewhere.

Which is why, when you first felt the dizziness creeping in, the strange bouts of fatigue that left you breathless and weak, you kept it to yourself.

At first, it didn’t seem like much. Just a few moments of light-headedness, easily dismissed. You brushed off the way the room swayed, grounded yourself by gripping the edges of tables or leaning discreetly against the walls. When Paul looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes, you waved it away with a smile, pretending it was nothing. He had enough to worry about – you refused to add to it. Not when he was already carrying so much.

As the days passed, though, it became harder to hide. Your body betrayed you in small ways – your steps slower, your hands unsteady when you reached for things. The ever-present ache in your bones was becoming harder to ignore. You found yourself avoiding the castle’s common spaces, spending more time in your room, curled up in bed, trying to will away the growing sickness that had taken hold of you.

Even the servants noticed, their eyes lingering on you with concern as they brought trays of food you barely touched. It was not uncommon for you to grow sick occasionally, there was a running joke around the castle about your weak immune system, and usually the servants would let Paul know if you stayed in your room. This time, though, you gave them strict instructions not to speak of it to anyone, especially not Paul. He didn’t need to know. He didn’t need this on top of everything else.

You could handle it. You always handled it.

Yes, you kept it to yourself. Unfortunately, to achieve that, you also kept to yourself.

***

The evening sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the walls of your bedroom. You had not left the room in two days. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the golden light that you usually loved. Today, the brightness hurt your eyes, each beam of sunlight sharp as it hit your feverish skin.

You had barely eaten, your appetite vanishing as the sickness rooted itself deeper. It was more than just the fatigue now – your stomach churned, and your head pounded with every small movement. Beams of pain adorned your lower forehead, temples and eyesockets, and no amount of massaging seemed to help.

You told yourself the words Paul had always whispered to you on days like this; it will be fine, it is temporary, you are safe. You just need some rest.

It didn't have the same effect.

As you shifted under the blankets, trying to find a more comfortable position, you heard a quiet knock on the door. You froze. The knock was too familiar – soft, hesitant, but with a certainty that told you exactly who it was. Your tried to bite down a groan all the while your heart squeezed.

It was Paul.

This was the longest period of time you had gone without seeing each other in ages, and not from a lack of trying on his part. You knew his schedule by heart and had purposefully lived around it for the past week before you finally caved and retreated to your bed to get over this bout of sickness. Even there, you had the servants tell him you were elsewhere, should he ever ask them.

It was not that you did not miss him terribly nor a disdain for him seeing you sick – you had worked together to get over equating sickness with weakness in your head. However, a part of you clearly still saw it as a burden, because your heart ached at the thought of worrying him with this.

You could not hide forever, though, and now here he was. You felt oddly unprepared to face him as you scurried up, fixing your hair and trying to put on a more assured smile.

When you didn't respond to the knock, the door creaked open slightly, and Paul slipped inside. His eyes found you immediately, and you could see the worry in them as he took in your pale face and the heap of blankets surrounding you that seemed to scream I am hiding from the world.

"Hi, my love," he whispered, and you responded with a greeting yourself, sounding weaker than you had hoped.

He closed the door quietly behind him, his movements deliberate and calm, but you could sense the tension beneath his composed exterior.

“You’ve been avoiding me." His voice was low, soft but with a quiet accusation woven through it.

You swallowed, trying to summon the energy to continue to smile, to pretend like everything was fine. “No, no, I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied. “I’ve just been… resting.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, and he crossed the room with slow, careful steps until he stood at the edge of your bed. He looked down at you, his gaze searching, as if he could see through the weak façade you were putting up. He sat down beside you on the bed, body angled towards you, and reached for your hand.

His touch was gentle, cool against your feverish skin. “Resting...” he echoed, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “Because you're sick. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You flinched inwardly. Of course, he knew. He always knew. Paul was nothing if not observant, especially when it came to you. You had been foolish to think you could hide this from him for long.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you admitted, voice barely a whisper. “You have so much going on right now. With Arrakis, with your father… I just didn’t want to add to your burdens.”

Paul’s expression softened, though the worry in his eyes remained. He shook his head slightly, as if unable to comprehend what you were saying. “You think you can ever be a burden to me?”

You didn’t respond immediately, because a part of you did feel like a burden, no matter how irrational it may be. Paul had so much on his plate already – how could you possibly ask him to worry about you on top of everything else?

Paul’s hand tightened around yours at your prolonged silence, attempting to ground you, pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. He sighed, a soft, weary sound, and then he spoke, his voice tinged with a quiet desperation you hadn’t expected.

“You are not a burden, my love. There will not be a day where I am not there for you – you just have to let me.”

The words hit you like a wave, gentle but powerful, their weight sinking deep into your chest. Paul’s gaze never left you even when yours flickered from nerves. In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he meant it with every part of him. There was a fierce honesty in his voice, a promise.

"I'm sorry, Paul," you began, unsure of how to phrase yourself. "I just really did not want to worry you more than you already are."

“I was more worried when I didn’t see you,” he continued softly. “When I didn’t know what was wrong. To not know how you are or what is going on hurts more than anything else.”

Your breath caught in your throat, guilt and relief swirling together in a confusing mixture. You hadn’t realized how much your absence could affect him. Paul always seemed so steady, so unshakable, but now, as he sat beside you, his hand still holding yours with that familiar tenderness, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes. There was a fear there that you wanted to smooth away, the fear of losing you, of not being able to help.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, dragging your intertwined hands closer to your body. "I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Paul sighed again, this time softer, and he shifted closer, so his side was flush against yours. You moved some of the blankets around so there would be no barricade for him, your breathing somehow already easier at his presence. His hand left yours only for a moment, but you immediately missed the warmth of his touch. He reached up to cup your cheek, tilting your face so you were forced to meet his gaze again.

“You could never make things harder for me. You are what make things easier” he murmured, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “You are my anchor. Without you…”

He trailed off, but the weight of what he didn’t say hung in the air between you. Without you, he’d be lost. Without you, the pressures of his future, of the impending move to Arrakis, might consume him entirely.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of him. Paul saw the flicker of emotion and leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his closeness comforting in a way that words could never be.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was a whisper, eyes searching yours. "Be honest."

You let out an almost teary-laugh, overwhelmed by emotion. "Terrible, quite frankly. My body is aching and I feel like I'm on a boat."

Paul hummed, thumb still brushing your cheek. "Would it help to lay further down?" He always knew.

You tried to nod, but frowned when the movement caused you more pain. Paul immediatley leaned forward to kiss away the furrow of your brows, knowing the tension usually worsens your headache, and then went to help you lay down in a better position. With your heads laid on the same pillow, Paul held your waist with one hand and your face with another, trying to massage out any tension.

“You don’t have to protect me,” he whispered, voice low and steady, wrapping around you as much as his comforting embrace. “Not from this. Not from you. Even now, with everything – especially now actually – you are the one thing I need.”

His words settled over you, soothing the ache in your chest, yet stirring something deeper, something raw that you had tried so hard to suppress. The weight of everything – the move, the sickness, your unwavering care for him – all of it was bearing down on you, but hearing Paul speak with such sincerity, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, it made something inside you break. The kind of break you could only do around him, because you knew in your heart you were safe to do so.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the tears that had been threatening to spill finally break free. A small sob escaped your throat before you could stop it, and suddenly, it was as if the floodgates had opened. The tears came in earnest now, unbidden and unstoppable, all the emotions you had kept hidden pouring out.

Paul didn’t flinch, he didn’t pull away. Instinctively he pulled you closer to him, gathering you gently into his chest, his movements slow and careful, so as to not hurt or startle you. He held you close, head against his chest, his warmth enveloping you, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear. He moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he whispered soft, soothing words you couldn’t quite make out over the sound of your own quiet sobs.

You had not realised just how much you had been holding in until this moment, how badly you had needed him. The world outside felt too heavy, too uncertain, but here, in his arms, you felt safe. The weight you had been carrying melted away, leaving only the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

“I’m here,” Paul murmured softly, his voice soothing, as if the words themselves could hold you together. “I’m right here. I'm not going anywhere, I'm with you.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, letting the sound of his voice calm the storm of emotions inside you. The soft, rhythmic strokes of his fingers in your hair, the way his hand pressed gently into the small of your back, holding you against him. Everything about his presence was grounding, reminding you that you are not alone. You never had been.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a long moment, your voice thick with emotion, though the tears had finally begun to slow. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Shh,” he interrupted gently, his lips brushing the top of your head in the softest of gestures. “You don’t need to apologise.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes still glassy from the tears. His face was close, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His usually composed features, now filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, and he offered you a small, reassuring smile.

“I was just trying to give you space,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “You’ve been dealing with so much, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

Paul’s brow furrowed slightly, as though he fundamentally could not understand how you could view yourself or your relationship that way. His hand still rested on your cheek, his touch light but steady.

“I know what’s happening around us is overwhelming,” he admitted, careful, like he didn’t want the weight of the words to fall too heavily between you. “But I’m not leaving Caladan behind to face Arrakis alone. I need you with me. In spirit as much as in person.”

“Oh, Paul,” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips like a quiet confession. You searched his eyes, unsure of what to say, unsure if you could even find the words for everything you were feeling. You moved one of your hands that was clutching his shirt up to trace his face.

You could see in his eyes that he knew everything you wanted to say. He had always known.

“I’ve always needed you, my love,” he whispered, his gaze unwavering, the intensity of his words cutting through the quiet of the room. “Not just now. Not because of Arrakis. I’ve needed you for as long as I can remember. Please just let me.”

The tears that had begun to dry on your cheeks threatened to return, but this time, they weren’t tears of sorrow or guilt. They were tears of relief, of knowing you never had and never would be alone in your care for him. Paul is there for you, just as you are there for him. Paul will worry for you, just as you were there for him.

"I'll let you, if you let me." There was a slight teasing smile on your lips, though its effect was lessened my the glossiness that remained in your eyes.

"I swear to."

You hummed, ducking your head back down to hide in his neck, breathing both him and the moment in.

“I'm afraid of it,” you admitted softly, your voice trembling. “Afraid of just how much I need you, even if you need me too.”

Paul’s expression softened even more, if that was possible. He gently tugged your face back up to meet his, so he could rest his forehead against yours and cup your cheek. His closeness was dizzying – but you much preferred this form of dizziness. You felt tethered to him in a way you had never felt with anyone else, like the two of you were the only ones in this vast, overwhelming world who truly understood one another.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured, lips almost brushing yours due to your proximity. “Not with me.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing against his as you looked into his eyes. His thumb brushed across your cheek again, his touch as soft as ever, and before you could stop yourself, before you could dare to think twice, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a tentative, gentle kiss.

Paul responded immediately, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a slow, deliberate tenderness. The kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic – it was filled with years of unspoken longing, of quiet moments that had been leading up to this. It was a kiss that felt like home, like something you had been waiting for without even realising it.

When you pulled back, your foreheads still resting together, both of you breathing softly, you felt the weight of everything lift, if only for a moment. It all faded into the background, leaving only the two of you, together, in the quiet safety of this moment.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, echoing the unspoken promise between you. “Not without you.”

Paul’s lips quirked into a small, almost boyish smile, the kind you hadn’t seen from him in so long. He pulled you into his chest again, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. You could feel the tension leaving his body, as if holding you like this had given him the strength he had been searching for.

"Take care of me, Paul?" you whispered, knowing now that this is what he needed.

He sighed, relieved, whispering a yes, please into your hair before placing a series of kisses there, holding you unbelievably tighter. His hands went back to massaging your neck and temples, moving languidly as he did anything he could think of to make you more comfortable in the moment.

For a long while, neither of you said anything. You simply stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your door quiet and distant. This was the kind of rest you had truly been needing.

“I will always be here for you,” Paul whispered against your hair again, as if he needed to reassure himself of it. “I swear it.”

"And I you, my love."

You held him closer, letting your eyes drift shut and your body aches ease. You let yourself believe him. Because you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just another comforting assurance. It was a vow, one that would last long beyond the move to Arrakis. 

No matter what storms came, no matter what weight the future held, you and Paul would face them together.

[birthfan]

A little RP for you. No pressure, feel free to write as much or as little as you’d like :) ~ @shhhsecretsideblog

It was a warm summer evening and the platform was empty, just another woman and I, both waiting for the last train to pass by the rural station. The violet sky was still bright enough to see clouds but the street lamps were needed to see down the length of the outdoor platform. I had sat down on a bench near the entrance to wait for the train, the other woman already sitting on a bench further down the platform.

As I looked down the tracks into the distance, waiting to see the bright lights of an approaching train, I noticed the other woman was heavily pregnant. Her large belly protruded well over her thighs, legs slightly parted from its size, and her hands were placed delicately over the swell. I could see her huff and tilt her head back and I felt a pang of sympathy - I couldn’t imagine being so heavily pregnant during the height of summer.

Looking at my watch for the umpteenth time and back out along the dark train tracks, I was slowly coming to a realisation the train may not be coming. It was scheduled 10 minutes ago and I’d been here at least half an hour, so I knew I had not missed it. It was the last train and I had no idea how I was going to get back home if it didn’t show.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the distant sound of a whimper and it took me a moment to realise it had come from the pregnant lady. Illuminated by the street lights I could see her curled over her baby bump, one hand gripped the bench and the other cupped her belly. I couldn’t see her expression but her body language looked like she was in pain.

It was late and dark, feeling a sense of female solidarity I decided to go over and check if she was okay. As I approached I could hear more sounds coming from the poor girl, moaning and muttering under her breath. “… not now…. wait a little longer…please…”

Her hair fell over her face but I could see it was slightly damp with sweat, and she was shifting awkwardly on the metal bench and breathing quite heavily.

“Hi, erm… are you okay?” I asked nervously, looking at the way her belly seemed to shift under the fabric of her clothes and hoping she wasn’t about to have this kid right here on the platform.

I'm startled by your intervention, having almost forgotten about your presence. I try my best to seem normal "Y-yeah just you know, baby being overly active, some advice: don't get pregnant in the summer" I giggle nervously, unfortunately even if my acting was good enough to fool you my body clearly displayed my lie as I feel something give inside of me, then a strong splashing sound fills the empty station.

We both look down at the puddle of birthing fluids in-between my legs and before I can even think of something to say a contraction makes me double over in pain "hnnnnng fuuuuuck shit why now?!" I groan out, my baby's head already halfway through my cervix as I'd unknowingly given in to the urge now that the water sack no longer softened the feeling.

You look at me panicked, a complete stranger about to see me at my most vulnerable, "oh shit are you.... ehm pushing?" you ask, with your own expression judging your confused question as soon as it comes out of your lips.

My hands right above my knees for support as I kneel over and push "Hnnnnnnnnng hoo hooo oooh god!" I exclaim through my panting and groaning as my baby slips further down my birth canal. I begin to feel the weight of my child's head behind my lips, I can also feel gravity making them painfully bulge out without my interference.

You look panicked and entranced at the swell forming in my soaked almost see through underwear, you take a deep breath and gather your courage as you grab my hand "alright focus on me, breathe and rest, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now but I'm not just gonna stand by while a person suffers so" your confident words catch my attention and help me gather my thoughts despite the pain and fatigue.

"A-alright heeee hoooo heeee" I start breathing rhythmically like I've seen many women do "mnnnngggggaaaaaah haaa" I struggle as I push with the contraction, my lips starting to open up under my fluid soaked panties.

You hold my hands as you stand in front of me, an act of warmth, of a stranger that despite no prior relation still wants to help, I give you a pained smile to show my appreciation as words fail me in such a moment.

Unfortunately our intimate moment is interrupted by a contraction unlike any I've felt until now causing my legs to almost buckle under me as I give a big long push "hnnnnnnnnnnngggggggaaaaaAAAAAAH" a groan turning into a scream as the head quickly crowns causing my vulva to stretch beyond what I even thought was possible, the baby's dark hair being clearly visible through my panties.

I breathe shakily as I'm now below where my hands are, still joined with yours, I realise I've unknowingly forced myself into a squatting position, I look up to see a sympathetic soft smile and kind eyes, which despite everything causes me to smile lightly.

I feel another contraction building up inside of me, and so I close my eyes and focus, and then it hits "mmmmmmmm-" I moan with closed lips as I give it my all, and then finally "-mmmmmaaaah haaa oh my god" the first coherent expression in a while comes out of my upper lips just as my baby's head exits my lower lips with a spray of fluids.

It is at this point that I remember that I never removed my ruined underwear as I feel the head pressing against them, "h-hey I need your mmm he-help with something?" I'm able to stammer out as you nod and lower yourself to match my eye level "what do you need me to do?"

"I n-ne-need you to go behind me and-d hooooooo-" a contraction catches me by surprise as I focus on talking and interrups me, the need to push, hopefully one last time, is unbearable. As soon as my pained moan interrupts my train of thought you rush behind me and cup your hands below me "-oooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOH" I scream near the end of my moan as my baby painfully slides out of me into my panties causing them to reach their breaking point as they collapse causing my child to fall into your hands.

I collapse on the station floor, not caring about the state of it as I pant from exhaustion "haa haaa th-thank you" I'm able to breathe out, "ehm you're welcome" you say slightly embarrassed now that the confidence has worn off. "It's a girl by the way ehm congrats" you say handing her to me as I sit "what are you gonna call her?".

I think about it for a second and then ask "what is your name?"

Thanks so much for the ask!!! It was fun to write, sorry I'm still rusty but I hope you enjoyed it anyways, it came out longer then expected lol, don't get used to it just yet hehe

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜ�� ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Rhaella is now 15, Aemond 14. Also, I've aged Benjicot Blackwood up he is now 16 in this fic.

130 AC

"I do not see why I must dress like this." Rhaella sighs, pulling at her dress, the corset is suffocating her.

"You are nearing the age to be wed. It is important you look your best." Edric says, "Stop fussing"

"I feel like I am being squeezed to death!" She whines as he hooks his arm with hers.

"It is only for the evening. Then, you will be able to wear your normal gowns." Edric says

"You speak so confidently, it is obvious you have never worn something like this." Rhaella groans

Maester Edric chuckles and gestures to his robe and chain.

"Forgive me, I'm not wearing a corset under all this. Although you never know."

Rhaella lets out an unlady like snort as they walk towards the throne room. King Viserys was hosting a ball, he had said it was just to celebrate his own rule, The queen had told her what it truly was. A way to meet suitors, after all she'd need to create an heir for Runestone. Rhaella hated the idea of marriage. She didn't want to leave the Red Keep and take her castle. Why couldn't Gerold rule for her? She wanted to stay here in the Capital with Aemond, swimming and reading until they fell over from exhaustion.

The ball is as grand as anyone could imagine. Lively music played as guests approached the high table to greet their king and his family. Viserys made a point to show Rhaella every eligible man who presented himself to her. Most of them were boring, all complimenting her beauty or here dress, one of them surprised her and had spoken a greeting in High Valyrian. Of course, he couldn't speak anything other than that greeting and she was left disappointed again.

"You remind me of Rhaenrya as a girl. Always quick to dismiss suitors without a second thought." Viserys says as some golden haired Lannister leaves them.

"Well they're all, twats." Rhaella says

"They are of the great houses of Westeros." Viserys says with a chuckle, "Some of them truly are twats though. Especially that last fellow."

Rhaella looks at Aemond who sits near his mother, Heleana on his left and Daeron on his right. If Aegon hadn't been present, Rhaella was sure he'd be the most bored at the table.

"Are there many more?" She whsipered, leaning towards Edric.

"A few, My Lady." He says sympathetically, "Perhaps you might dance with one, the night will go quicker."

"So they ask me boring questions? I'd rather let Sōna eat me." She laughed

"That might be less painful than a dance with some of them. I believe the Baratheon boy is drunker than even Aegon himself tonight." Edric says looking over at a very drunken first cousin of Lord Baratheon . The Lord of Storms End is trying to rouse his relative who is down for the night. At least Aegon's eyes were still open.

"My King." A voice greets, "My Lady."

"Lord Blackwood." Viserys greets

Rhaella turns her head, expecting another old man, or perhaps even an ugly young child who'd rather be playing with toys than greet the King. Instead, she was met with a tall and slim young man, short black hair sat atop his head, messy with curls.

"Lady Rhaella, I heard you claimed Sōna. I have heard tales that she is a marvelous beast, white as the winter snows from Winterfell." Lord Blackwood says

"She is magnificent, My Lord. Truly a marvel to see." Rhaella smiles, its the first compliment she's received all night that's not about her hair or beauty.

"If you ever have a chance, perhaps you can visit Raventree Hall. I'm sure she'd enjoy Blackwood cows as a treat. I'd love to see Dragonfire with my own eyes." He says

"Yes, that would be nice." Rhaella smiles

What an odd man, suggesting she visit his home to feed her dragon cattle. It was surely a different attempt at courting.

"Benjicot Blackwood, he's the young Lord of Raventree. A good match but his feud with the Brackens would drive any sane person mad." Edric says to her as Lord Blackwood goes back to his table.

"He is the only man close to my age in this hall tonight, and the only one who made interesting conversation." Rhaella points out looking at the room filled with older men and children alike.

"He suggested killing cows with your dragon as a form of entertainment." Edric says, looking Rhaella with questions in his eyes.

"It is better than talking of golden lions with the Lannisters." Rhaella says

"You are correct, my Lady." Edric smiles

Aemond could not believe what was happening in front of him. Rhaella, who had been dismissing suitors all night long with rude look or a comment was dancing with one of them. Benjicot Blackwood was twirling her around the floor like they were already wed and getting ready to celebrate for the next three moons.

"You are turning as green as mother's dress, Aemond." Aegon teases

"Ignore him." Heleana advises looking over at Aegon who shoves a bite of food into his mouth.

Rhaella's red and gold gown glitters under the lights of the many candles that light the room. Her silver hair is tied back, showing off how her face has sharpened over the years, baby fat falling away to give way to piercing Valyrian features. Aemond can feel his eye twitching with anger. Truly there was no reason for his current mood, there was no reason to be jealous over a single dance. Perhaps she was just being polite to Lord Blackwood.

It is when she tosses her head back to laugh at something he has said that Aemond cannot take it anymore.

"Mother, I want to leave. Am I dismissed?" He says, looking at his mother.

Queen Alicent lets out a sigh and gives him a nod.

"Straight to your chamber. I don't want you out with Vhagar now." She gives him a look

"Fine." Aemond conceeds, how did she know he was going to try to go for a nightime flight? A mother's intuition perhaps.

Rhaella laughs again as he's leaving. She leans in to whisper something to that idiot Benjicot as his hands are resting on her waist.

How disgusting.

Aemond hopes they both trip and fall face first into the pie that's being served to the guests. Maybe that would teach that barbaric Blackwood a lesson.

Rhaella finds Aemond the next day scowling in his chambers rather than in the training yard with Criston Cole.

"Are you sick?" She asks when she sits at the end of his bed

"I'm fine." Aemond grumbles

"Then why are you not training? Or at least meeting me in the Library like we usually do?" She questions

"I'm tired. Go away." Aemond groans, pulling his blankets over his head.

He had always been one for dramatics.

"You are acting like a spoiled child. What is wrong? Tell me." Rhaella commands, grabbing the covers and ripping them off him.

Aemond lets out a shout of dissaproval when he's exposed to the sunlight hits his eye.

"You haven't even dressed yet?" Rhaella asks looking at his night clothes "It is past noon!"

Rhaella's eyes are caught on Aemond's eye which is not covered by his eye patch. The sapphire that she had heard whispers about in the Keep was mesmerizing. He hadn't let her see his wound since he lost the eye.

"Don't you have somehwhere to be? A dance with Lord Benjicot Blackwood perhaps?" Aemond asked

Was that what all this was about? Surely Aemond wasn't jealous?

"Lord Blackwood is preparing to return to his home today. I do plan to see him off, but not if you are lying here, like some...self pitying...fool." She says

"I'm not a fool." Aemond says

"Then why are you acting like one?" She asks

Aemond suddenly sits up, Sapphire eye catching the bring sunlight that streams into his chamber. He's staring right at her and Rhaella suddenly feels nervous under his gaze.

"You can say goodbye to him, only if you promise to fly on Vhagar with me." He says

"What do you plan to do if I say no? Lock me up?" Rhaella rolls her eyes

"If I have to." Aemond jests

"I'd scream." Rhaella agues

"I'd gag you." Aemond declares

Rhaella huffs a sigh of frustation, Aemond was a wearisome individual today.

"Fine. One flight. But you're not allowed to let me fall off her." She agrees

Truthfully the idea of flying on Vhagar had always terrified her. That large of a beast taking to the sky was mortifying to her.

"Maybe I'll push you off." Aemond says, tone serious.

Rhaella shoots him a look, letting him know his joke has not been well received.

"Maybe I'll push you off and claim her for myself." Rhaella says

"I'd like to see you try." Aemond smirks

Next part

Guys I almost forgot Daeron was like...a thing so I had to mention his existence. Anyway, I love Bloody Ben so I had to give him a little cameo. Also when was HBO going to tell me that he's 12 during the dance? He is a whole child. Anyway, I've aged him up quite a bit here so its not as weird.

Also, whoever made this, they genuinely had me laughing on Pinterest...

Poor kid Aemond...

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

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@holymusicalmothman

@koobratzy

@schelfinser

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[joicecubes]

HEY!!!!! HEY YOU!! (sits you down to listen to me yap about my queer headcanons for gravity falls characters)

mabel - okay lets get her out of the way. this girl is queer as fuck. she may not realize it yet, but in her teenage years i know she’s experimented with every single label and microlabel in existence. she’d try out hundreds of neopronouns. she realizes her obsession with boys as a kid was a result of comphet. i don’t have a specific label for her because i think in the end she’d discover she can’t make herself identify with any one label. because she’s just mabel! unlabeled and proud.

dipper - do i even have to say it… he’s trans. i think every queer person in this fandom headcanons him to be trans. moving on

stanley - he’s kinda unlabeled too, but for a reason opposite to mabel’s. ladies, gentlemen, doesn’t matter to him! i think its fair to assume he grew up believing that being gay was wrong, it was the 60s and 70s and his dad’s a piece of shit, but as he traveled the country and met so many different people and then witnessed the times changing around him… he’d just. grow into his attraction for men. like, yeah i like men? so what? he doesn’t care for labels. “bisexual, mabel? pansexual? quit making up words!”

(more starting with stanford under the cut this is gonna be sorta long)

stanford - hehehheee okay this is my favorite. i’ve thought about his sexuality a lot. he’s definitely gay to me, and i don’t have much reasoning for that other than like… my heart is telling me that’s the right answer. but he’s also definitely on the aroace spectrum. i personally think he’s demi or grayromantic, he feels romantic attraction VERY rarely and its part of the reason why he felt so helpless in the dating department as a teenager, and also why as an adult later on he tells fiddleford he doesn’t understand romance. he’s hardly ever experienced it! and he wouldn’t really KNOW he identifies with those labels until he’s back in his dimension and mabel is in her obsessed-with-queer-microlabels phase. he hears mabel say “demiromantic” and, being the nerd he is, immediately wants to know what this new word means and why he’s never heard of it before. so mabel rolls a big-ass whiteboard in and starts Mabel’s Guide to the Aromantic Spectrum! ford learns something about himself that day.

fiddleford - HE’S GAY. he’s gay. he’s so gay. i know he canonically has a wife but he literally leaves emma may to work on this mysterious project with his best and only MALE friend from college like… BE so fr. he made ford TWO christmas gifts and forgot to get anything for his wife!! i imagine his marriage to emma may was more of a way for him to deny his sexuality and live what he believes to be a “normal” life. and that obviously doesnt excuse the neglect to his family (because what the fuck fiddleford) but its how i personally make sense of his behavior.

bill cipher - bill transcends human comprehension of gender and sexuality. bill is just bill. but in human terms he’s a lover of all genders. as long as he can manipulate them, they’re fair game! (sorry ford)

wendy - okayyy yesss i know i used the comphet excuse once with mabel but i’m using it again god dammit. with the way wendy talks about her past boyfriends and how we see her be so vaguely invested in her relationship with robbie, it makes me think she’s either a lesbian or somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. she’s just not super interested! but she gives guys chances because why the hell not and is never super into any of it, eventually they break up, and she moves on with her life. i imagine sometime after high school is when she reflects on that and thinks… huh. was i ever attracted to men at all?

soos - saving the most anticlimactic for last… soos is straight to me. but he’s an ENTHUSIASTIC ally :)

thanks for reading i really like overthinking the theoretical queer identities of my favorite characters have a nice day (and let me know if you’re headcanons differ i would love to hear what people think!!)

edit: i’ve seen some people disagree with me on the comphet part for mabel, in hindsight my wording was way more definitive than i was meaning. check the replies for more on her :)

[velocesainz]

Hey lovely, F1 idea with either Lando or Charles for you. Them coming home after being away a while and going to the fridge for a snack, only to find things you normally hate in there. Because you’re pregnant but you haven’t told anyone yet 🫠

A/n: Hope you enjoy, I’m sorry if this was a little short for your liking

Cravings

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: Lando doesn’t know you’re pregnant and comes home from f1 to find the most random foods in the fridge. What is his reaction? This is kinda short don’t mind

Warnings: none, super fluffy, very slight angst

Pairing: Lando x pregnant!fem!reader

Y/n pov:

I came home with a bunch of groceries, most of them my pregnancy cravings and started putting the foods away.

Lando doesn’t know that I’m pregnant and I’m kinda scared to tell him. How will he react?

We never had a conversation about having kids before so I don’t even know if he wants kids or not.

Lando should be home in another few days so I better make a plan fast.

I put a hand on my barely visible baby bump. “It’ll all be ok baby, don’t worry”

A few days later:

Lando pov:

Finally I’m home! This season was fun but the break is going to be even better!

I can spend my time with y/n and maybe I can tell her about wanting to have kids

I’m at a decent level in my career and we are old enough to have kids, also I had baby fever from looking at Carlos’s niece and can’t stop imagining how y/n would look pregnant.

She would look really hot.

I came home and dropped my bag on the table walking into the house.

I called out to y/n but didn’t hear a response, she’s probably not home.

I felt really hungry so I opened the fudge but the contents inside really surprised me.

Pickles, peanut butter, cheesecake…

These are all foods that y/n hates with an absolute passion. Why is it in the fridge then? Was somebody over when I wasn’t around?

That can’t be possible! Y/n would tell me if someone came over, plus with how much she works there is no way she would even allow a visitor because she would fear that she wouldn’t be a good host.

Just then I heard the front door open and heard y/ns sweet voice that I’ve been dying to hear for the past 2 weeks. “Lando are you home? I’m back!”

I closed the fridge and ran to hug her tight.

“I missed you so much baby. I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the last few races.” She told me.

“I missed you more than you can imagine love. Also don’t worry about not coming to my races, just knowing you are watching me is enough motivation to do well in my races” I said to her causing her to blush, why is she so goddamn cute?

“I have one question, why are there pickles and cheesecake in the fridge? Me and you both don’t like them” I asked her. Her eyes widened in fear.

“Uh I uh…” she stuttered.

“It’s ok love, you can tell me no matter what it is” I said to try and ease her nerves.

“Ok…but just know that I understand if you want to leave me after what I tell you” she said with her down.

What? Did she cheat on me or something?

“I uhm..I’m pregnant” she said and backed away.

I was going to be a father. WAIT WHAT? IM GOING TO BE A FATHER!!

I immediately hugged her right and I felt a wet patch on my hoodie.

“You’re not mad?” She asked me with her big doe eyes staring straight into mine.

“Of course not love! I’ve always wanted to be a father, I’m sorry if I never told you before” I told her and watched as she breathed a huge sigh of relief and hugged me tighter.

“I’ll make sure that this baby has the best and most safe love with my favourite lady in the world” I said as we hugged each other tightly and stayed there for a while.

The next few months are sure going to be eventful.

[the-broken-truth]

Yuu - Child of the Great Seven [5]: The Sea Witch in Octavinelle

Summary: The Sea Witch visits Mostro Lounge in Octavinelle with her trusted Eel Familiars while waiting for her child to arrive from Ramshackle. How will Azul react?

Jamil: Hey! I thought you said Scarabia was next!

Broken: Sorry about that, Jamil. Your chapter is next.

Note: To keep my sanity, the Eels shall have their canon names.

[To say that Azul Ashengrotto was trying his best to keep his composure and not fanboy right where he was standing was a complete understatement, and if he were to fanboy, could anyone honestly blame him? The Sea Witch - A Member of the Divine Great Seven & Mom to his Most Precious Pearl, Yuu - was currently standing [She's Currently In Human Form - She has Legs] in the middle of the Mostro Lounge with her hands resting on her hips as her heels clicked with each step she took through the lounge with a smile on her face.]. Floyd and Jade standing beside him while their eyes were glued on the large eels that floated around in the air while not leaving the Sea Witch's Side; using their magic to maintain a small bubble of water to keep their skin moist, they had human forms, but they preferred to remain eels.]

Flotsam: Our Lady, Most Generous Sea Witch! We must say-

Jetsam: -this place is far more interesting than we assumed it to be. However, that is to be expected-

Flotsam & Jetsam: When an ASHENGROTTO runs the show! (Laughing)

Sea Witch: Now. Now. Boys, remember to behave: We are guests here and these young men mean something to my Little Pearl.

Flotsam: Speaking of the Little Octopi, where are they hiding?

Jetsam: Yes! The Little Octopi is never late for important business!

[Just then: the door of Mostro Lounge opens and Yuu walks in with an outfit that is mixed between the Octavinelle Dorm Unform and the Sea Witch's Dress with a shell necklace around their neck.]

Yuu (Walking over to the Sea Witch): Forgive me for being late, Mom; I was trying to mentally prepare myself for today.

Sea Witch: Oh, don't worry about that, My Little Fry; your friends have been most accommodating to me. Such polite boys. [Yuu smiles as Flotsam and Jetsam swim over to them.]

Flotsam: Oh, brother! Oh, brother! Who is this I see before me?

Jetsam: The Little Octopi? Could it be?!

Flotsam: Did you come to sing and play?

Yuu: That depends: How much will you pay?

Flotsam & Jetsam (Laughing): Ah, yes! It has been a long time, Little Octopi. We thought you were going to forget the Number One Eel Rule.

Yuu, Flotsam, and Jetsam: Always profit!

Sea Witch (Claps): Oh, yes! Profit is important, but what is most important, Little Fry?

Yuu: Always make the deal fair - you'll get more business and money that way.

Sea Witch: I taught you well.

Jade: Hm. With rules like that, I can understand why the Mostro Lounge got a sudden increase in funds that day.

Azul: Day? What day?

Jade: Oh, that's right. We failed to inform you.

Floyd: Remember when ya go sick and you asked Jade and me to watch the Lounge?

Azul: I remember asking Jade.

Floyd: We're Twins! We do everything together! The thing is Jade and I asked Shrimpy to help us!

Azul: What?! Why didn't you tell me you bothered Pearl with that?!

Jade: You were sick and stressed.

Floyd: And we were bored! So, we grabbed Shirimpy when the Baby Seal wasn't looking, dragged them to Mostro Lounge, and left them there to take care of it!

Jade: Imagine our surprise when the Prefect not only managed to run the lounge with no prior experience but increased our normal sales by 3 for the consistency of a week.

Azul (Brain Loading): Daily Sales increase by 3x...for a week?

Jade: Yes. Didn't you see it in the Ledger? I wrote it down.

[Without a word: Azul went back into his office and was gone for about 10 minutes.]

Yuu (Being nuzzled by Jetsam and Flotsam): Hm... Is he okay in there?

Jade: Give him a moment.

[After another 4 minutes: Azul comes back into the Lounge.]

Yuu: There you are, Azul-senpai. (Sees a Golden Contract in Azul's Hand) What are you going to do with that?

Azul (Holds the contract out to Yuu): Sign it.

Yuu: Why?

Azul (Walks towards them like a robot): Sign it.

Yuu: I am not signing that.

Azul: Sign It! (Runs at Yuu)

Yuu: AHHH! (Runs around the Mostro Lounge with Azul chasing them)

Azul (Chasing Yuu): DON'T RUN, PEARL! THIS IS OUR DESTINY! SIGN IT!!!

Yuu (Still Running): I DON'T WANNA!

Azul: BECOME MY BUSINESS PARTNER, PEARL!!!

Yuu: I'M NOT READY FOR THAT KIND OF COMMITMENT!!!

[The Sea Witch, Leech Twins, and Eels sit in a booth and watch Azul chase Yuu around the Mostro Lounge.]

Jade: Should we help the Prefect? Azul is gaining on them.

Flotsam & Jetsam: Nope.

Sea Witch: My Little Octopi will be okay.

Floyd: Run, Little Shrimp, Run!

[One Hour Later]

Yuu (Trapped in Octo-Azul's Tentacles while being pulled into the Octopus Pot) (Clawing at the carpet): NO! NO! I WANT TO LIVE!

[Yuu gets pulled into the Pot]

Yuu (Lunges out with their hand reaching for the door): I WANT TO LIVE!!! (Gets yanked back into the Octopus Pot)

Jade: Well... We won't be seeing them for a while.

Sea Witch: Is he normally like that?

Jade: Indeed. When Azul is stressed or overworked, he uses the Prefect as a Cuddle Buddy. The Prefect was the first person who saw Azul as a decent person, even after he attempted to swindle them.

Floyd: That's Shrimpy for ya.

[In The Octopus Pot]

Octo-Azul (Hugging Yuu, who is petting his hair): Thanks for always being there for me.

Yuu: It's okay, Azul; you're kinda like the Big Brother I always wanted to have.

Octo-Azul: If that's the case... Will you sign a contract stating that I am your brother?

Yuu (Rolls Eyes): I'm not signing a contract, Azul.

Octo-Azul: Why not?

Yuu: Knowing you, you would put in the terms and conditions that I have to answer all your phone calls, have dinner with you every weekend, have study sessions with you, and I'm not allowed to date anyone who you don't approve of; and you don't approve of anyone around me. Also, I know tat you would pull the 'Elder Brother' Card on me whenever you can.

Octo-Azul: No, I wouldn't.

Yuu: What did I say about lying?

Octo-Azul: It only works for Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Floyd.

Yuu: Are you any of them?

Octo-Azul: No.

Yuu: Exactly.

[END]

[aphroditelovesu]

Can I ask for a Yandere Mary Stuart general headcanons? From Reign? I love your writing! ❤️

''Love may be irrelevant to people like me, but to you it is not.'' — Mary Stuart.

❝ 👑 — lady l: here it is! You came at the right time because I'm rewatching Reign with a friend and I absolutely love Mary, so I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! Also, thank you. ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of death and murder, kidnapping (?), mention of torture, overprotection.

❝👑pairing: yandere!mary stuart x gender neutral!reader.

Mary Stuart is fun, witty, and very kind to anyone who shows kindness or is unable to defend themselves. She is a Queen and behaves like one, most of the time at least. She cares a lot, listens to her heart a lot and this is dangerous, especially when you are involved. Mary is captivating and she will captivate you in one way or another.

She would hardly think that there is anything wrong with the way she feels about you, Mary would probably think that she just cares about you a lot and that's why she feels that way. But when her thoughts become darker and more graphic, when she begins to imagine the slow, painful death of that servant who was so kind to you, Mary knows that there's something wrong.

Mary may try to do something about it, but she won't. She's already suffered so much, dealt with so many bad things, so why couldn't she let herself have you? She is a Queen and does not have the privilege of being able to love freely, but you make her feel like she can. As if she was just a normal woman and not the Queen of Scotland.

She adores you, that's all. Mary loves spending her days next to you, listening to you ramble, while she lays her head on your shoulder and listens to you talk. It is Paradise itself, as far as she is concerned. You make her feel good about herself, even with those disturbing thoughts she has.

Mary would love to spoil you, it's her way of showing how much she values ​​you. Mostly letters written by her, she pours all her love into those words and will blush like a little girl when she hands it to you. She always gives them directly to you, as she doesn't trust anyone but you.

You are the only person she truly trusts, her best friend and confidant, you are the only person who knows all her secrets and who she turns to whenever there is a problem or needs advice. You are the one who has all the power over her and she is happy to allow it.

Mary is kind and benevolent, a fair Queen, but she can and will become ruthless in some situations and one of those situations is when you are involved. She will not be partial at any time and will remain firmly by your side and defend you with claws and nails. And everyone knows that annoying her doesn't usually end well.

She will be quick to be cruel and protective, ordering the torture and death of any poor soul who crosses her path, your path. Mary will not tolerate any possible threats to you or her. You belonged to her and she was going to make sure the message was clear.

She is paranoid about your safety, having experienced many fears and horrors herself, Mary will not allow you to suffer the same as her. If she can keep you locked in a place only where she can see you, she will. She is fully aware that it is not right, but her fears overwhelm any rational thought she may have.

Mary is quite possessive and this becomes more than obvious when you hear her reprimanding a servant who accidentally touched your arm. She is incredibly possessive over you and will make it very clear to everyone who you belong to. If her hard look doesn't do the trick, Mary will resort to other, more definitive means. She will have no remorse, however. Hands stained with innocent blood will mean nothing as long as she can hold you in her arms.

She always needs to have you around, you are a comfort and what keeps her together when she faces something difficult and painful. Knowing that you are there for her is enough for her. Mary had become increasingly demanding of your presence, going so far as to publicly ask for your opinion on matters of state, even if you are not a noble. This shows how much she values ​​you.

Mary is a calm person and usually acts straight, but she goes from 80 to 180 when it comes to you very quickly. She has no control over how she feels about you and will just let her overwhelming feelings and dark thoughts dominate her. But if you remain willingly with her, she'll be willing to try to fight them.

If something were to happen to you, may God have mercy on their souls, because Mary won't. She will be unstoppable and everyone will know the bad side of the Queen of Scots. Mary will only stop when she has you back safe and sound, and even then her desire for revenge will not be completely satisfied. No one messes with what belongs to a Queen and gets away with it. And Mary will make sure they don't end up alive.

[stormybraindraws]

Part 2 of me explaining my mlp DBDA AU designs:

Monty:

-I always had a very clear idea of what I wanted him to look like, specifically in terms of the shape of his head and snout, and his size. I wanted him to looks very friendly and charming, just like the way Esther wanted him to be. He's also a very agile flyer due to his big, more bird-like wings

- When it comes to fur color, I tried to make him look like those very pretty spotted dark grey horses, because I thought it would be fitting, and it would also give some emphasis to his black mane and his feathers.

- His cutie mark design is mostly because how much of a fast reader and quick learner he is. My headcanon is that, despite some of his naivety and a few troubling feelings, he can read people like books (I mean, he probably had to learn to do that, since he spent most of his life until now stuck in his cage and all he could do was listen to Esther or try to guess what she was thinking or feeling), which is why I think he was so obsessed with astrology, since it was a way he found to understand people better

- Maybe, in a future that he embraces both his origins as a crow and his current form as a pony, he could become a hippogriff

Cat King

- I could basically describe him as a fusion between Discord and Queen Chrysalis, but with more of Discord's personality than the other.

- His Design was the most difficult to make, since it was inspired by the colorful reformed changelings, but with a few touches. It would probably be better if I also came up with a normal pony (or anthropomorphic cat like that Capper character from the movie) disguise he could use most of the time. (Also, how could I forget that man's beautiful long eyelashes)

- Lore wise, I imagine him being some kind of royalty rogue changeling that exiled himself from his hive and went to a nowhere town where he became very fond of the many street cats that resided there (since cats are better than ponies anyway). So he's basically a very lonely cat lady changeling :)

Jenny

- Just like Monty, I thought the realistic fur coat would look very pretty and fitting to her, since she is one of the few non-magical characters of the cast.

- I took a lot inspiration from the tall goth ponies that appear in that episode "Fake It 'Til You Make It" from MLP:FIM season 8.

- Tbh, I have no idea how a butcher would fit the MLP universe since they are all herbivorous (probably). Maybe some are omnivores.

Tragic Mick

- His design draws a lot of inspiration from both the series and the comics version. I tried my best to make him resemble a Walrus, I even gave him tusks.

- Lore wise, his story stays the same, except that he could try to turn into a sea pony to return to the ocean, but it just isn't the same... He wants his body back.

(Aside from Esther and Night Nurse, that are already sketched, which ones would you like to see?)

[holylulusworld]

Right there - Kinktober 24

Summary: Your boss gets more than he bargained for…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Warnings: light pegging, implied smut, mentions of a sex orgy, nakedness, degrading language (slut, whore etc.), SB is not a nice guy, but…a good boy,  dominant reader

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Pegging

Words: 888

Idea by: @flory-alexandra

Square filled for @anyfandomkinkbingo: Square 16: “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Your boss isn’t the easiest guy to work for, but he always finds a way to fuck your routine up on a daily base. 

Today, he’s up to no good. You just know it. There is something sinister in his eyes, and his smirk is too dark.

“Chop, chop, little lamb,” your boss snaps his fingers. “I don’t want to be late for my first Herogasm in ages.” Soldier Boy claps his hands. “Come on, we need to find you a nice dress and buy more lube.”

“Hero what?” You gape at your boss. He’s not easy to please, and already impatiently jabs his index finger in your chest. “What are you talking about, Sir? I don’t have a Herogasm on my schedule for tonight.”

“I invented it,” he grins and dreamily looks in the distance. “Imagine, all the perfect bodies pleasuring each other. The final is always the best, we all blow our loads on the best whore.”

“What? I’m not…I mean,” you stare at your clipboard, trying to find a note about the Herogasm. “Wait…what do you mean with I need to find a dress?”

“Well, you’re coming with me as my special guest,” he flashes you the dirtiest smirk in the history of dirty smirks. “I’ll enjoy ruining all of your holes, little lamb…”

You’re unsure what’s worse. Wearing a dress barely covering your ass, tits, and…well your most private parts, or the fact that Soldier Boy calls you his whore of the night. 

“Boss, this is not only sexual harassment but uh—” You cover your eyes when one of the so-called heroes gets a dildo shoved up his ass. 

You’re not a prude by all means, but you like to keep your sex life and kinks private. If you are alone with a partner you trust, you can let go and explore all the kinks you always wanted to try.

“Who’s that?” People ask as Soldier Boy parades you around the room filled with people who, well, shamelessly copulate. 

“She’s mine, and a normal little lamb. I want to find out if I can break her cunt,” Soldier Boy chuckles darkly. “I’m going to my room and have fun. Let me get my first load inside her before asking for me to fuck all the ladies and gents needing a good dick.”

“What the fuck!” You curse under your breath while your boss guides you toward a room. “Who do you think you are? I’m not going to let you fuck me!”

“How do you like it?” He already strips his clothes off, shamelessly revealing his throbbing erection. “Up your ass first, or do you love to lick my dick like a popsicle.”

You chuckle darkly. “Oh, sweetness.”

He cocks a brow at your reaction. You put your hands on your hips and stand a little straighter. “I expect you to answer my question.”

Soldier Boy licks his lips as you walk toward him. You glance at all the sex toys, humming as you pass the table to have a look at the breeding bench. “You didn’t get the memo, huh?” You look over your shoulder to flash Soldier Boy a smile. “If I fuck a guy, I’m the one in charge. And, before he gets to stick his dick into any hole, I will conquer his holes first.”

The usually cocky man gapes at you. He drops his eyes to his twitching length. “What do you mean? I’m a master at eating pussy.”

“Aw, you’re so cute,” you coo as you stride toward Soldier Boy. There is something in the way you walk making him swallow thickly. “I want your ass, sweet boy.”

Soldier Boy looks at you, eyes wide, and lips parted.

“Oh, you’d love that, huh?” You grin. “Well, if you want to get a taste of my holes, I’ll conquer yours first.”

His eyes light up, and he eagerly nods. “What will you use?” He grins. “Your finger first? Or one of the dildos…maybe the big one.”

You smirk. Who would’ve thought that Soldier Boy is into pegging?

“Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me. You don’t want me to go in dry, right?”

He grabs your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth. Soldier Boy groans, and his eyes widen. Your fingers taste like your cunt. “You dirty girl fingered your pussy before coming here.”

“It’s ma’am tonight,” you click your tongue. “I want you on that breeding bench, your ass on display. Not talking back or I’ll not give you any.”

“Yes…ma’am,” he hurriedly walks toward the breeding bench. He gets on it, wiggling his ass as he looks over his shoulder. “I like it rough, little lamb.”

“Me too,” you smirk darkly. “You won’t sit properly for a week when I’m done with you.”

He shudders when you lube the fingers of your right hand. You want to hold power over him for tonight, but not hurt him. “Fuck me, ma’am. My ass is all yours.”

“Of course, it’s mine, baby boy,” you slap his cheek, making the powerful supe growl. “Let’s see how well you can behave.”

He moans deeply when you carefully slide your index finger into his arsehole. “Fuck, put it all in, little lamb. I want you to let yourself go, and later…I’ll break your cunt…” 

[starsfic]

Prompt (if taking them] Lady Iron Fan decides to show that she reciprocated Demon Bull King's interest by courtnapping him. The Brotherhood (especially Azure Luon) thinks its a normal kidnapping/act of war.

"You know, my brothers will think this is an act of war."

"Oh, really?" The beautiful woman hummed, setting down the jug and passing over the goblet of wine. DBK was almost charmed, except for the fact that he was still tied to his chair and couldn't pick it up.

No, actually, he was charmed. He had always imagined that he would be the one doing this, excluding the tying to a chair. That was just rude.

"Do you think this is an act of war?" Princess Iron Fan said, drawing his attention back. It wasn't hard, considering the fact that she was a gorgeous woman, even more beautiful when she was committing acts of violence.

"I mean, you do have the wrong atmosphere for such a thing." The room was set up with red and lavender furniture and soft candles. A delicious feast had been laid out, and the pink dress she wore was long and flowing, not meant for battle. "But you could be trying to lower my guard with that eyesore of a dress."

Her smile disappeared. "What's wrong with my dress."

Oh no. "I mean, nothing's wrong! I just think you would look good in purple- no, no. That would be wrong. That would dull your eyes." DBK leaned his face up, away from her furrowed brows and the droop of her lips, to think. "My friend, the Six-Eared Macaque, once gave this long lecture about costume design. The color of the fabric is important when accenting features...uh..." To be fair, DBK had kinda tuned out in the middle and most of that lecture had been aimed at Peng, who had ruined a very nice bolt of fabric Wukong had gotten Macaque as a gift. "Your eyes are a wonderful shade of amber and you have gorgeous dark curls..."

"Really?" The anger had faded from her voice now. "What do you think of them?"

"I mean, gold would accent your everything very nicely since it would match your eyes." DBK tried to think of what color would match her best, but now he was thinking of her just in gold jewelry, which was a very nice thought but very distracting. "But your hair is enough of a draw of its own. It would just need a statement piece. Anything else would drown out your beauty in gaudiness- oh! Red! That is what you would look best in-"

A soft laugh broke through his thoughts. DBK looked down to see the princess cover her mouth, but not enough to hide a beautiful smile. When her giggles came to an end, she looked up. "You are very charming, your Majesty. Are you like this to every girl you meet?"

"No. I mean, I've only ever been like that with Wukong, and he was less charmed."

Iron Fan shrugged. "I can't blame you for trying. He's very pretty."

"So are you."

She leaned against the table and smiled at him. "So are you. By the way, your brothers are trying to break down the door."

DBK blinked. Oh yeah. "Should I go talk to them so we can have dinner in peace?"

"No," Iron Fan's magic hummed, and then she had her distinct fan in hand. "It will give me a chance to change. I have a very lovely red dress in my trunk."

He couldn't wait.

[sonicasura]

Resident Evil's Leon S. Kennedy getting dropped in Kaiju No. 8 would feel like a vacation to hell for him. Even moreso if he's human or an Infected with visible deformities. (I'm talking @polarspaz's Verdugo version or @beanzbeanz001's Infected iteration levels of bad.)

If Leon's human then he would be so confused at first. Raccoon City, Umbrella, and every single viral/parasitic incident doesn't even exist. Neither is the government keeping him away from an actual normal life. Sure he'll try find his way back if possible since Leon does have friends in his hellish home world. Then the man experiences his very first Kaiju attack.

An immediate 'What the Fuck' that evolves into 'This is actually worse'. Like even the worst abominations he faced could be taken down with bullets at the very least. Kaiju practically shrug off everything unless you aim for their cores but also have the firepower to pierce through.

At most Leon can do is blind and run from any attacking monster. Otherwise he's chilling in a bunker or has to join the Defense Force for a kaiju fiber power suit to defend himself. The latter would definitely be hard considering Leon has trust issues and the two tests he has to take without any proof of his existence.

Best chance the bloke has is to be noticed by someone nicely high up in the Defense Force. A plausible task although he might have to purposely endanger himself involving a Kaiju/Honju/Yoju. If he's infected then oh boy.

Leon isn't going to have a fun time as he will be mistaken for a Kaiju from his appearance. He'd also struggle fighting monsters around his size since they could have dangerous abilities even if given info about their cores. Plus I think him being infected could even worsen his situation should Leon get captured.

The Defense Force definitely won't like the idea of a possibly spreadable zombie virus/parasite on their problems to tackle. (Pretty sure everyone shivered thinking about a zombie virus spreading kaiju.) Leon would be constantly monitored with scheduled humane experiments at BEST in their custody.

Also I imagine our boy just hanging out with the family of the little girl Kafka saved in episode 2. She just sees Leon huddled in an alley behind a dumpster looking miserably. Pure sopping wet cat energy that makes her think about 'Mister Kaiju' when he asks her to go away.

Her poor mother practically having a heart attack when her daughter brings Leon home. (That lady is seriously questioning if it's appropriate to flirt with kind monster men. She was conscious enough to see Kafka.) At least Reno won't be alone in the 'keeping your inhuman friend alive' compartment.

[lakshana-ke-lakshan]

Like listen

If uchiha clan was a normal clan

Like- normal normal

No politics, no plans, just some pretty eyes and happy people

It would've been so happy right ?

And it's kinda obvious that they feel emotions more than a normal person okay? Their element is fire, fire is intense and so are their emotions. So if they're sad, they're very bawling their eyes out and if they're happy, then it's a celebration y'all (no hide your emotions bs)

if the clan was normal, they would be so culturally rich. Like i always imagined uchiha having their own folk songs, stories about past lovers, lullabies, dances, religious practices, ceremonies, festivals and what not?!

Also, this is largely inspired by a post of @uchihaculture

The one with baby sasuke, Itachi and shisui together where it looks like they're having some celebration together, yk lights and all

So yes

If there is a marriage around, the bride and the groom would be dressed so lavishly and royally, having the most beautiful and intricate jewelry and dresses, pretty make up and the best party in konoha around. Everyone would gift them gold and precious stuff just in the names of blessings.

And everyone would be there, the people of other clans as well, can't forget your other friends can you??

Just imagine the clan members coming together at night of some celebration around a cozy bonfire, the old people telling the stories of their youth to some children, young couples just spending time together, males just talking and laughing at each other, kids running and playing around and the ladies and some men just sitting around the bonfire singing their folksongs and orchestrating with various instruments- the flute, guitar, mouth organ etc (all the gentle stuff)

And having this stuff weakly

Imagine, the kids playing volleyball or something and some adult joins them to supposedly "teach them the real way" and just like that, it began a friendly battle between all the guys and gals interested.

All go back to their homes with a big smile on their faces

And Mikoto- the ever loving mother- would be such a good singer cuz her face just gives the vibe that she'll be good at singing.

Fuguku, no matter how rough he looks, will be the most gentle guy around the people he loves.

Thinking of him being good at playing flute and accompanying his wife while she's singing with the other ladies is just so romantic (imagine the young couples and their friends hooting when they start acting like the best power couple they are and their kids just loving this)

Sasuke inherited his mother's ability to sing and learned flute from his father

Itachi learned flute and many other instruments from his clan folk. He is not half bad at singing, he just prefers instruments.

Folk songs? This idea came to me when I was listening to

And

Listen to this song, you'll get an idea what I'm trying to say (it's obv okay if you don't understand it just vibe with it)

So yes, their folksongs would just include many- many references to the female or male having beautiful eyes (for sharingan purposes)

Like here's the translation from NainoWale ne (the first song mentioned)

"the one with beautiful eyes

disturbed the cup of the heart,

made the tavern spill,

and he took away my peace, nights, eyes..."

(that is I'm not able to sleep peacefully anymore)

SO FITTING RIGHT?!?!

There would be songs that the ladies sing when they're getting the brides all dressed up to look the best for their best day

There would be songs singing the praises of their past warriors

Songs for loneliness ( we always have emo singers)

Plenty love songs

So yes, the most famous singers of the five nations would be from the uchiha clan

Periodt.

I also see them being good at theatre. So listen, the clan kids, like 6-11 coming together to perform the story of some god or again- folk stories in their local theatre (ofc they have their own theatre, they're rich my lord) and all the adult members supporting their kids

It would've been so soothing for the adults you see, after a hard day at work, you come home and get to see all the happy faces of your friends, relatives, family members and all the members you saw growing up and who saw you grow up. And the families bring food as well. So free food. No one goes to sleep hungry.

Another idea, the clan comes together, once a month and holds a cooking competition. It's like a fair where the members of the other clans act like the judges and vote. The families (non uchihas can participate as well lol) open their stalls to show off their best recipes and the winner is decided through who gets the best votes

I would love to see a fanfiction like that.

[farity]

Home to you

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  Aemond comes home from battle

Warning:  just fluff

.

“Where is my wife?  My daughter?”

“Your Highness,” his wife’s maid said, running to keep up with Prince Aemond’s long strides.  “They did not go with the rest of the family.”

Aemond stopped, turned.  “Why not?”

“My lady your wife told Queen Alicent that she knew that you, as Prince Regent and commander of the armies, would be a target, and so would your own family.”  She took a deep breath and continued, “my lady said no one should know where for our safety and theirs, but that you would know for it was where the most precious jewel shows all its colors.”

Aemond knew at once.  “Thank you.”

The maid watched as the prince turned on his heel and rushed back out.  She hoped he would find them and bring them home safe and sound.

* * * * * 

“I’m tired, muña.”

You peeked through the tiniest opening in the window coverings.  From the outside it would look like a normal tear in the rough fabric, but from the inside, it gave you the perfect angle to watch the path leading to the small cabin.

Turning to your daughter, you smiled, trying your best to keep the reality of the battle from your expression.  When you had heard the drums of the enemy troops get louder and louder, Queen Alicent had decided the family was to leave, the injured King Aegon smuggled out in a cart, Queen Helaena and her children dressed as servants, their silver hair fully covered.  At the last moment you had told Alicent of your plan, and despite her concern at seeing you leave, she agreed that it was paramount to keep you and your daughter’s whereabouts secret.

“We will see each other again,” you said before you led the horse out the side gate.  Just in case, you had gone out the opposite gate from your actual destination, and went around the great keep until you were on the right path.  

You took the little girl in your arms, “shall I sing you a song or tell you a story, my love?”

“Tell me the story of how you and kepa met!”

Ah, her favorite story.

You took her past the partition that separated the living area from the sleeping area, and sat with her on the large chair next to the stack of blankets.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved to sing.  One day, she was playing with her cousins and some relatives arrived.  She immediately decided that one of them was the most interesting, but the next day there was a fight between the children and he had a terrible injury.”

The little girl covered her left eye and shook her head.

“He was very brave but he was in so much pain, so the girl would sing to him until he could go to sleep.  Then her parents took her home, but she couldn’t stop thinking about that boy.  Soon after, she received a letter from him, saying thank you for all the times she had sung to him.  She wrote him back, and then he wrote back-”

The little girl giggled, moving her hands from one side to the other.”

“That’s right, the letters went back and forth and back and forth, until one day they realized they loved each other.  They each asked their parents to let them get married, and when they were old enough . . . “

“They did!”

“Yes, they did.  And a year later, they had a beautiful girl and their little family was the most precious treasure in the world.  And one time, when the baby girl was sleeping, they realized that there was a rainbow that landed right on her crib, and it made her silver hair look like all the colors you can imagine.”

Your daughter yawned.  “Maybe we can find a rainbow soon,” she said, rubbing her eyes.  You held her close, and kissed her forehead.

"We will try tomorrow, my darling, but for now it is time to sleep.”

She snuggled against you, and you looked down at her sweet little nose, her long silver lashes, and wondered when you would see your husband again.

* * * * * 

Aemond dismounted from Vhagar, having landed in the clearing closest to the cabin, and walked through the barely visible path until he caught sight of the familiar structure.  

He remembered that day so clearly because it was like the Seven were bestowing their blessings on his family.  His sleeping daughter in her crib, his wife walking toward him, and she’d stopped and smiled.  “Look, Aemond.”

He took the hand she extended to him and looked into the crib.  Their daughter was sleeping curled up on her side, her silver hair down to her shoulders, and through the window, a rainbow had landed on her hair.  

He’d smiled and his wife had kissed him and then pulled him to the large bed.

Reaching the cabin, he decided to walk around first, making sure everything was as it should be.  He heard a loud crunching noise by one of the windows and looked down to find he had stepped on a cluster of walnut shells.  Smiling, he went back to the door and opened it slowly.

He stepped in quietly, and a moment later she peeked out from the sleeping area, a large dagger in her hand.

She sighed at the sight of him, placed the dagger high up on a shelf and rushed into his arms. “My love,” she whispered, burying her face in his neck.  He held her tight, the relief coursing through him, and he kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips.

“Is she sleeping?” he whispered.

“Yes,” he felt her smile against him.  “After I told her the story of how we met.  Again.”

“It’s my favorite story, too,” he said, pulling back to look at her.  “Let me change and maybe you can tell it to me, too.”

* * * * * 

You watched casually as Aemond changed clothes, not only to admire your husband’s long, lean form but to check for any injuries.  Aside from a couple of bruises, he seemed to be fine, and after making sure your daughter was warm enough for the night, you stretched out on the large bed and waited.

“We will head back tomorrow, send word to the family,” he said as he approached the bed.  He wore only soft sleep pants and your hands itched to touch the broad lines of his shoulders, feel the strength in his arms.  He laid down next to you and caressed your cheek.  “Tell me a story.”

“You must be in my arms, then,” you replied, and he moved to wrap himself around you, his head right under your chin, as you started to stroke his hair.

“Once upon a time, there was a young girl who loved to sing.  One day, she was playing with her cousins and some relatives arrived.  She immediately decided that one of them was the most interesting and intriguing of all, but the next day-”

"-his twat of a cousin ended up taking out his eye.”

You smiled.  “his twat of a cousin ended up taking out his eye.   He was very brave but he was in so much pain, so the girl would sing to him until he could go to sleep.”

“And he thought her voice was the purest sound he’d ever heard.”

“Then her parents took her home, but she couldn’t stop thinking about that boy.”

Aemond wrapped his arms tighter around you.  “And he began to dream of her, and couldn’t stop thinking about her, either.”

“And she missed him so much.  Soon after, she received a letter from him, saying thank you for all the times she had sung to him.  She wrote him back, and then he wrote back-”

“And he wanted to tell her he knew he loved her, but he thought she would never love him back and only felt pity for him.”

“Aemond.”

He looked up, “it’s true.”

“But the boy was wrong, as boys often are, for she already loved him and wanted nothing more than to be with him-”

“in bed.”

You reached down and covered his mouth, and felt him laugh in response.  “But as they were both so young, they knew they had to wait.”

He kissed your palm.  “But he knew, she was the only one for him.”  He looked up again and kissed your lips.  

“Kepa!”

Aemond sat up just in time for his daughter to jump onto him.  “Muña was telling you the story again?”

“Yes, my jewel.  Have you been good for muña?”

The little girl nodded, then looked at you for confirmation.  

“She has been wonderful.  But she needs to be sleeping right now.”

“Muña, can I sleep with you and kepa?  Please?”

You looked at Aemond, smiling, and he nodded.  “Come here, little dragon, let’s tuck you in.”  He pulled up the covers over you and your daughter, then placed a protective arm over both of you.  Soon she was sleeping peacefully between you, and you thought there was no better feeling than knowing your family was with you, safe and sound.

* * * * * 

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