#little brown hen

[ahedderick]

Little Brown Makes Progress

This morning when I checked on Little Brown, the first eGg HaD HaTChed. There was one damp chick underneath her. I didn't check the other eggs to see if they were pipped, just replace her very quickly. Whatever is going on under there is up to her. But.

Chick!

It is pretty aggravating that I have to leave mid-morning just when this is getting interesting, but the trip is a highly anticipated one.

[plusie]

[tetedurfarm]

fuck yeah wormy corn!

[alltimefail-sims]

Taking care of a ranch by yourself is a full time job. Lea barely has time to sleep or eat, and is running out of money quickly. Chicken eggs and crops seem to be making enough profit for now, but it might be time to pick up some lucrative skills.

She seems pretty chill about it though. 🤷

[targaryenluvs]

HARD TIMES / EVAN BUCKLEY

PAIRING: Evan Buckley x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Whilst waiting for his appointment, Evan abstains from sexual encounters. Which is a bit hard whilst simultaneously having a crush on the girl from the coffee shop.

WARNINGS: Fluff, sex mentions, teasing, makeouts & sexual depictions

WORDCOUNT: 2.5K Words

A/N: I’m actually in love with this idea 😂 May or may not have made Buck a whiner 👀 As per usual, @megalony for giving me the inspo to finish this off - check out her Buck fic!!

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

He was cursed, indefinitely.

Getting rescheduled, running out of gas, random remodels galore. It seems as if someone was against him finally making his donation. But the waiting wasn’t the worst part, the no sex rule was major. Why on Earth had he stuck with it? Evan assumed it wouldn’t be too difficult, which it wasn’t.

Until he met you.

It was the fourth day of waiting and he’d changed his usual coffee place ever since they randomly only served skim milk. And he was happy to make the change, since his new place was actually three minutes closer as well as better. Ever since he saw you, he’d found himself ordering more than needed, adding a muffin or two, or ordering for the crew.

Anything that let him stare at you for a little while longer. You were always on time, every morning you showed up, ordered the same thing with the occasional additional treat. A smile on your face and always equipped with a kind compliment.

But Buck surprisingly couldn’t find it in himself to approach you. Whether he was too scared of embarrassing himself or he just liked staring. He found himself second guessing his actions at every turn. It wasn’t until you came in minus a smile that he worked up the courage to interact with you.

You were currently sitting outside, gazing at the oncoming traffic and people going about their day. The cup in your hands taking the brunt end of your restlessness as you tapped your fingers. The hand waving in your face brought you back, “Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you need something?” The man in front of you grinned, “Uh no, not really. I just- well you were…” He pointed out to the traffic before pointing at you again.

“Would you like to sit? Maybe it’d help you get your words together.” You joked as he laughed before pulling his respective chair, “Thanks, I’m Evan. But people call me Buck, whatever works for you.” You reached your hand out, “Y/n, nice to meet you Evan.”

Evan smiled before revealing the brown bag, “I uhm, well you looked like you were a bit down, so I ordered you a pastry. Thought it’d cheer you up.” Your regular pastry sat inside the bag, waiting for you to eat it, “Oh! You really didn’t have to, that’s so nice of you.” He waved his hand, brushing off your words, “It’s nothing really, just enjoy it.” You wanted to ask how he knew, but figured there was no point in it.

And the two of you talked for almost an hour afterwards, slowly getting to know each other better. The pair of you were quick friends to your surprise. And your relationship only grew afterwards, regularly catching up in the mornings over coffee. Which then turned to lunch together during his off day, and then dinner.

You knew it was quick, but you couldn’t help yourself, you really did like Evan. It was unbelievably easy to talk to him, he was such a warm person. And Evan sure as hell liked you. Every day he found it easier to get out of bed, overly eager to get to see your face and hear your voice. God, he could listen to you for hours.

He’d never really clicked so easily with someone, and he was grateful for it. It’d been a while since Taylor, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not just for a night. He found himself checking his phone every few minutes, hoping for a reply from you.

And everyone else noticed.

“What’s got you so happy Buckley?” Chimney asked from the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. Hen glanced over to find Buck smiling down at his phone, “Nothing, just looking at photos.” Hen circled back to him, sitting down across from him as she surveyed his body language. You and Evan had been out last night at a movie, and you’d both posed in the cardboard cutouts.

The photo he was looking at had you as a bodybuilder and him in a dress he looked “absolutely stunning in”, according to you.

“It’s like your face is permanently smiling. Please tell me it’s not frozen.” She poked his cheek before he swatted it away, “Can I not just be happy?” Chimney shrugged before settling down next to Hen, “You can be happy, as long as you tell us what, or who, has you feeling this way.” Bobby came towards the trio, Eddie in tow, “Who’s feeling what?” Hen chuckled, “Seems we’ve got a smitten Buckley in the house. We’re trying to figure out who’s making him happy.”

Buck rolled his eyes before getting up, “It’s really not that big of a deal guys, cmon.” Bobby shook his head, “Yes it is, someone’s in love.” The group laughed as Evan shook his head, “Not you too, I thought you were sensible.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I am extremely sensible, and curious. What’s their name?”

“Her names Y/n, and that’s all you get to know for now. Damn vultures.”

“Don’t make me circle back for you Buckley!” Hen shouted out as Evan made his way down, what he didn’t expect was for you to be waiting for him. “Y/n?” You turned swiftly to meet his eye, “Hey Buck, you called me?” His eyebrows furrowed, “It must’ve been an accident, I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to come here.”

He was thoroughly impressed, did a phone call from him warrant a visit? Not that he was complaining. You looked even more gorgeous than usual, and you smelled—

“Yeah but we were supposed to meet for lunch, and you didn’t reply, I only got a call.” His eyes widened in realisation, he’d forgotten your date. Was it a date? Did you think it was a date? Is that why you were wearing a dress? You said you usually only wear them for special occasions or people. Was he a special person?

“I’m so so sorry, it must’ve slipped my mind. We just came back from a run. We can go now for sure.” Your smile spread as he spoke, “Is something funny? Please tell me I don’t have sauce on my face.” Your laughter filled the air, did you know that your eyes creased when you giggled? Your nose also scrunched, god you were cute.

His eyes trailed up to the balcony, where his entire team stood staring before straightening up, “Mhm, the top of the trucks are so pretty. Probably shiny too.” The random topics of conversation were more than enough to alert Evan to the eavesdropping taking place. “Guess you might as well meet those idiots.” You smiled, “Lead the way Firefighter Buckley.”

“Oh! You are brilliant!” Chimney exclaimed as the rest of the group laughed uncontrollably. Buck sat with his arms crossed, “It’s not even that funny!” You couldn’t help but pat his bicep, “Of course you don’t think it is!” You leaned into him as you giggled, practically pushing your chest into his arm.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.

Evan’s eyes were staring right into Eddies soul, as Eddies laughter died down, “You okay?” He mouthed as the man across him from blinked rapidly before nodding. Eddies eyes trailed to you, and your low cut dress before returning to Buck. Oh, oh! Eddie smiled, “That’s a really lovely dress Y/n/n.” Evan’s eyes narrowed, wishing a few horrible accidents upon Eddie.

Murmurs of agreement broke out from everyone else, “It really is, what do you think Buck?” Evan’s lips drew into a tight line, “Oh, yeah. Definitely, they look good in it. I mean— you look amazing. Really good today. Not that you don’t usually, you always look so good. And smell! Not that I smell you, you smell. Good! You smell good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he stumbled his way through his monologue, “Good to know Buck, good to know.” You promptly turned to Bobby, “Yknow Evan never shuts up about your cooking, would I ever be so lucky to experience it for myself?”

Buck zoned out of the current conversation, replaying his epic fail in his head.The tightening of his pants had him shifting around uncomfortably, and Eddies grin aimed his way was getting to him.

He was going to kill Eddie.

Dinner that night was probably amongst one of the best dates he’d ever had. And he had asked you before you went out whether or not it was a date, repeatedly. But it was also a test of strength. You’d decided to wear a gorgeous dress, designed to test his patience.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he’d made the stupid mistake of inviting you back to his apartment.

Which, A) Gave the impression that something was going to happen.

B) Maybe made you think that he thought you were the type of girl to put out easily.

And Evan never wanted you to think that.

With a few glasses of wine, sweet music and amazing company you were bound to end up on his bed. Evan’s hands were soft yet controlling, lifting you up onto his lap to straddle him. “God you’re gorgeous.” He murmured into your neck as you giggled, “Is that so?” He smiled up at you as your arms locked around his neck, “Definitely.”

“Then we should settle in for the night, no?”

Evan wanted to curse his own mind for reminding him, maybe he could make the deposit another time, right? He knew it was wrong to think this way, but how could he stop himself from going all the way with you on top of him? “Dammit, I am so sorry. But I can’t.” Your swiftly lifted yourself off his lap, settling down next to him.

“Hey that’s fine, you’re not being forced into anything Buck.” Evan groaned as he leaned in to capture your lips again, “You are so annoyingly understanding. And I love that about you, it’s one of the many things I love. Including this gorgeous lace.” He joked as he traced the strap of your bra. “Oh hush, what’s going on?”

“Promise you won’t freak out?”

“Promise.” You smiled before grabbing his hands, with wide eyes filled with curiosity staring up at him, he couldn’t help but feel the pressure. “An old friend asked me to be a sperm donor, and before making my donation, I thought it best to uh…” You raised an eyebrow as Evan struggled to find the right words, “To keep my swimmers in the tank, if you catch my drift.”

“I catch your drift, or is it a flow?” Evan rolled his eyes as you raised yourself to kiss his cheek, “I fully understand, you don’t have to be sorry. I think what you’re doing is absolutely amazing Evan, helping to start a family? That’s really sweet of you, but it must’ve been a hard decision.”

And that’s what the loved about you. Your willingness to listen, to wait and understand what you were being told. Most girls Buck had been with had never really seen everything about him, nor understood him. With you felt truly seen, and heard. Never judged. And you were breathtakingly beautiful, which was a nice bonus.

“It was.” He watched as you grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, “If i’m half naked, so are you. Now let’s sit and talk, when did you decide to help them out?”

For the rest of the night, the two of you simply laid in bed and cuddled, looking up at each other. Whilst you talked, Evan found his eyes trailing down your body. The two of you were in your underwear, and you your bra. With you practically ontop of him he found an intruder settling in.

“What is that?” You whined from underneath the covers, “Uh, maybe it’s my phone?” Evan rationalised as you stared at him, “Unless I stole someone’s phone and put it on charge, I don’t think it’s a phone.” Evan tried to stop you before you raised the covers, “Oh.”

“Well hello there.” The pillow was swept from underneath you as Evan buried his face in it, “Don’t,” Your laughter made his heart beat faster, and your hand which circled his crotch made him buck his hips upwards. “Oh god, please don’t.”

“Don’t… what?” Evan buried his head into your shoulder as you continued to tease him, it was the funniest thing you’d seen all day. And a helpless Buck was a fun one. “I like hearing you beg.” He slammed the pillow down onto his lap, “Y—you can’t say things like that!” His cheeks were turning red, whether it was embarrassment from his stutter or your hands, you liked it.

“Sure I can, just did. And you want to know something Evan?”

“Not really.”

“Indulge me,”

“Okay.” Evan gave in as you leaned into his ear, “I don’t sleep well with anything on.” You quickly kissed him before unclasping your bra, throwing your undergarments onto the floor and settling back in.

“Goodnight baby.” You smiled before turning off the lamp.

It was going to be a long night. Evan sat in the dark for about an hour before his situation calmed down, if he was sure of one thing? You were going to be the death of Evan Buckley.

It was donation day, finally.

Evan was practically bouncing off the walls after his shift, zooming down to the clinic before another mishap ruined his donation day. And luckily for him, he was given a cylinder and a few magazines before being sent on his way. His fingers drummed against the wheel of his jeep, he was having a good day.

The only thing better? His date with you tonight. What he hadn’t expected was to come home to candles, rose petals and his favourite girl happily sleeping in bed.

“Uhh, Y/n?” You sat up straight away in bed, “Evan! You’re back!” He walked up the stairs before setting his phone and keys down, “Whoa, you look…” You were wearing one of your favourite sets, and a new favourite of Evan’s, it didn’t exactly leave a lot to the imagination.

And he’d seen more than enough of you.

“Oh god, you look so good.”

“Well you’re extremely lucky, this is all for you. Almost five weeks, you did so well Evan.”

“I did well?”

“Yes you did, and you know what?” Evan shook his head rapidly, he was itching to touch you, “I cleared the day tomorrow for you and me, we can stay here as long as you’d like.” Evan felt weak in the knees, “Oh I love you. Now can I please throw you into bed?” You giggled before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You can do whatever you’d like, Firefighter Buckley.”

“Oh, Firefighter Buckley?” Evan pushed you down to the bed before climbing over you, “Mhm.” His hands lifted your gown slowly, stroking the soft skin, “Now I really want to see you in my coat.”

“Oh? What, with your name on the back? All yours aren’t I?”

“That you are. You’re not gonna be walking for a few days.” Evan teased as he planted kisses along your neck, you raked your hands through his soft hair, “I’m definitely not complaining.”

Hard times have good outcomes, or something like that.

[ceoofglytchell]

Butterfly

Summary: That fateful night on Driftmark Aegon has made a promise to you, one that he has even once never forgotten, while you were gone. However now six years later you return to him and- gods be good- he is going to make that promise a reality and he most certainly won't let you leave him another time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader

Word count: 4214 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong like features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, fluff, angst, longing, thoughts of major dubcon (it’s only a thought and does not really happen), kinda miscommunication, hurt/comfort, allusions to smut, aegon being miserable, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I was not feeling good last week, but I am back now with this piece here, but I’m not sure if it’s good. But, as always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language. Enjoy 💛

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"I promise that one day I will marry you."

Never once in your life have you forgotten the promise that your uncle Aegon had given you six years ago on the shores of Driftmark. Yes, he was drunk, and yes, he knew that your families would never let a union between the two of you come to be, but a boy could dream. At least that was how he had justified the vow later on when you had to separate the following morning.

You have always wished that your beloved uncle would fulfill his very promise one day, but unfortunately the chance got slimmer and slimmer the more years passed and the more protective your mother has gotten over you, because as Rhaenyra's first and only daughter nothing was easy.

You were born with brown curls and hazel eyes like your brothers, making the sin your mother had committed all the more obvious to anyone else, a walking reminder of her carelessness. However you were born much smaller in comparison to your brothers and even as you grew you remained petite and delicately looking, which caused Rhaenyra to fuss over you like a mother hen constantly, as if she feared you to be a porcelain doll that could shatter into a million pieces with just a touch. She certainly treated you this way.

Aegon however has always seen the watchful eyes and silent warning glances of his half-sister to be more of a challenge than an actual prohibition.

The prince had always been enamored with you, his little niece, but he has always bottled up all his hidden feelings for you within himself so it was only natural that one time where he had swallowed down cup after cup of dornish wine and you sat by him and held his hand after he had been scolded by his grandsire, the words spilled out of his mouth like a river.

He had barely been able to remember it the next morning, but as he saw the flush on your cheeks when he stood before you to say his goodbyes, he knew that you knew. It was either a curse or a blessing, but even as he had watched you leave with your mother, brothers, and a few of the servants, he had known that he would see you again one day and if he did, he would take you as his wife.

You were not sure what you had imagined when you and your family returned to King’s Landing after so many years to assure yourselves that Lucery's claim to the island of Driftmark was defined and would not be contested, but no matter how easy this task seemed to be on the first look, you quickly learned that this was not the case. Vaemond Velaryon and your great-aunt Rhaenys had also come.

However, their presence brought you less out of the concept than to see Aemond beating Ser Criston during sparring on the courtyard as if the man was nothing but a normal knight and not a loyal and trusted member of the King’s Guard. His cold look, when he had seen you and your brothers, made a shiver run down your back and a spark of fear set its roots within yourself, even if you had nothing to do with the tragic loss of his eye.

On that dark night you were with Aegon when it had happened. The older prince had drunken too many cups of wine and stumbled down the stairs that led down to the beach and hit his head. You had sat with him afterwards and watched over him, while he had clung to you as if you were the very last thing that kept him rooted to this world and that kept him from loosing himself to the darkness within his heart.

And then he had given you that promise. That one terrible promise that has been on your mind every single day, which had taken a special place in the depths of your heart. He had promised to marry you and you knew that he would do it, if you would get permission, which you doubted, however, because your mother wanted nothing to do with her half-siblings whatsoever.

You were reminded of said promise when you faced him again in the throne room after six long years; He and his family dressed in Hightower green and gold and you with yours in Targaryen red and black. The difference could not be greater and the tension that lay in the hall could be felt by everyone.

You tried to stick to your mother's words, you really did, but over and over again your warm gaze found his and every time you caught him staring right back at you, an unknown glimmer in his amethyst colored eyes, which you neither could nor wanted to explain.

However, things escalated quickly and your mother quickly pulled you out of the throne room by the arm, leaving the headless body of Vaemond Velaryon behind on the cold stone floor, for which your stepfather was responsible, the word 'bastards' echoing in your ears. It was not easy to be confronted with the truth after all these years, which your mother tried to hide so convulsively, although it was obviously in everyone's eyes and the entire realm knew the truth of your parentage.

Your shocked eyes found those from Aegon before you vanished behind the doors and you immediately knew that this was not the last time you would see him that evening- and you were right.

Your maids, who were also some of your closest friends at the same time, were currently dressing you for dinner when it suddenly knocked on the heavy wooden doors to your chambers, which still looked exactly the same before you had been forced to leave back then. Without having allowed him to come inside, Aegon stepped into the privacy of your old chambers, which were illuminated with flickering candles, whereupon the servants stopped tugging uncomfortably on your hair and stepped away from you, bowing their heads as was custom.

"You may leave us," you told the other women, whereupon they all looked at you with a questioning frown.

"But princess-" "Please, I can do it."

Neither you nor the maids knew really whether you meant your hair or the prince who stared at you without having lost a word so far, which was extremely untypical for your uncle. However, the cup of wine in his right hand was familiar and you immediately became painfully aware of how much you had missed him.

The moment the doors fell shut again and you both were alone in the room and actually stood in front of each other for the first time again in six years, a bright grin broke out on his face and he slowly took a few steps to get closer to you. "Welcome home, little butterfly."

You didn't know exactly what it was; the nickname, his voice, which had matured, or the fact that you finally looked at him again after such a long time, but you couldn't help but close the distance between you two and jump right into his arms.

Aegon was surprised for a brief moment, but he immediately returned your gesture and wrapped his arms around you as well and pressed your slender body tightly against his, burying his nose into your long brown curls, which were half put together into a braid, which was not finished, because you had sent your handmaidens out of the room as soon as you had laid your eyes on him.

He could hear how a quiet, content sigh escaped your lips, whereupon he felt himself relax in your embrace and he felt his grip around his golden cup of wine loosen slightly as if you were the sole cure for the addiction he had developed. After all these years and although you both have grown and changed, you still fit perfectly against him like the last piece of a puzzle that had finally found its rightful place.

"You cut your hair," you noticed with an audible smile in your gentle voice and you immediately snuggled closer to him as if the sole thought of being parted from him for a second time was unthinkable for you.

"And you have grown- if only a little."

You hit him playfully against his shoulder and leaned back a little so that you could look him into his lilac eyes, which you noticed no longer held the same glint as they had back then. In addition, deep dark circles under his eyes adorned his handsome face and he had become even paler, which was why you feared that you needed to worry about his health. He also looked very much tired. However, these little details did not change the fact that the man in front of you was as beautiful as he had been back then if not more.

"Still feisty, I see, butterfly."

"You did not forget it," you noticed with an almost melancholic smile on your rosy lips. Ever since you were children and a small white butterfly had landed on your head in the Godswood, which would happen two or three times more over time, he called you by the name of the animal, since you were probably just as fragile and delicate, you mused. At the beginning you did not really enjoy it, but over time you wanted to hear him say it over and over again- now too.

"Of course not. I would never forget you, my darling."

"Stop it." You looked down onto the ground so that he would not see the obvious blush on your cheeks, but he did regardless. As for you, he paid attention to everything, every little detail.

"I did not forget my promise to you either." The prince said and stroked with one hand over the length of your arm, which was covered by a silken red sleeve. Actually, you did not want to wear a red dress to dinner, as it would only illustrate the fronts between the two sides of your families, but your mother insisted on it. You personally have always preferred lighter colors.

"Really? You appeared to be very much... drunk when you gave it to me, Aegon." You carefully replied while you hesitantly grabbed his hand, the contact igniting a feeling of warmth in you, which you had been longing for as well.

"I was drunk, that much is true. However, I always am and I remember very well that I said that I would marry you."

"This was so long ago-" you said with a quick shake of the head, because you knew that time did not change anything about what he felt for you and what you felt for him. A marriage between the two of you would never be agreed to, even if you could not imagine marrying someone other than him. The hatred between the two sides of your family was just too big and your love would not mend the crack again.

"No, I am serious. Be my wife, please. There is no day that I did not think of you and wanted you to be by my side." He reached for your hands and held them firmly in his own as if that alone could convince you to marry him without further ado and preferably that evening right after having had dinner. He would not allow you to get betrothed, because then he would lose the opportunity to have the only person who has ever taken care of him and who has actually listened to what he had to say. If you were not there, he was miserable- the last few years have been proof of it.

On the other hand, you were completely perplexed and overwhelmed with the situation. You wanted him. He was the only one who had never treated you like a fragile doll or a mindless duckling, but just like a girl like any other and you liked that. You did not want to be considered weak by everyone- of all the dragons you rode Silverwing, by the gods, you were not weak. It was bad enough that you were a dragon rider and your mother did not allow you to ride as much as you would have liked.

Unfortunately, the truth was that Rhaenyra and Alicent would never agree to a union between him and you. They would rather die or burn in the seven hells and you wanted to save yourself the pain that would follow if you asked and the two older women would vehemently forbid it even if nothing spoke against it and it would actually serve to strengthen House Targaryen for future generations. Unfortunately, it was more likely that at some point he would marry one of the daughters of Lord Baratheon or his own sister Helaena and that you would have to marry Lord Cregan Stark eventually.

"You don't know me anymore. If you excuse me, my prince, I have to continue preparing myself for dinner now.”

With a jerk you pulled your hands out of his and sat down at your dressing table, trying to ignore him and push him away from you, because you would not be able to allow your feelings for him to bloom now and in the end you would have to spend your life with another. You would not be able to bear it. The prince looked at you with an expression of utter disbelief on his features, until then a flicker of anger crossed his gaze and he stormed out of your chambers without hesitation, the door falling shut so loudly that it made you flinch.

You just wanted to protect him as well as yourself.

Later at dinner you watched Aegon drowning himself in alcohol and staring at his plate without touching the food at all. Aemond, who sat on the other side of the table, stared at your siblings and you at all times, not letting you out of his sight, until it suddenly escalated and a single toast made everyone become aware of how fragile the bond that held your family together actually was.

Shortly afterwards, your mother informed you that you would return to dragonstone the very next morning and you felt right in your decision to have pushed away the man for whom you had deeper feelings for. It was better for both of you. At least that was what you kept telling yourself.

You told that to yourself when you came back to your rooms and found them empty and dark, you told yourself when you sat alone in front of the fireplace and loosened your braids, when you undressed, put on a light nightgown, and you kept repeating it to yourself when you climbed in bed at last and slowly began to fall into a peaceful sleep. You would not be able to bear the pain that would follow if you allowed yourself to actually be with him.

Aegon still felt the taste of dornish wine on his tongue and its effects clouding his senses when he stood in the middle of the night in the darkness of your bedchambers and stared down at your sleeping form in your bed, the moonlight that fell through the windows illuminating your soft features like you were the very image of the Maiden. He was slightly shaky on his feet and he was well aware that he should not be here, but he just could not control himself. Your rejection before dinner and the way you refused to speak a single word to him while you had sat beside each other had robbed him of his last bit of sanity and he just had to know what you felt.

He had a simple plan; slipping inside your rooms unnoticed, tainting your honor and showing his mother the proof of it in the morning, because then she would have to agree to a union just like his half-sister, since you would ruined for any other man. His plan had been so simple, he would just have to tear the blanket right of you, push your nightgown up to your hips and take his pleasure, but when he approached the edge of your bed and saw how peaceful you looked like sleeping, he could not bring himself to do it.

The prince felt a lump forming in his throat, his heart becoming heavy and he could not help but kneel on the floor next to the bed, while he buried his face next to yours in the pillow in the hope that you would not notice the tears of shame burning in his eyes. You should just sleep on and never find out that he was even here. He was a monster for even thinking of ruining you.

He sobbed into your plush pillows, his hands fisting the silken bed sheets tightly when he suddenly felt something stirring beside him on the mattress, but he did not raise his head just yet. He did not want to look you in the eye after what he had originally come for.

"Uncle? What happened?"

Your gentle voice was like a balm for his soul, but he still continued to quietly sob into your pillows. You did not even ask why he was here, but what had happened. Even now you took care of him, although you had wanted to distance yourself from him a few hours ago for a reason that he simply could and would not understand.

"What have I done? Why are you pushing me away from you? What has changed?”

You quickly rubbed the remnants of sleep out of your eyes and you began to caress his back with your small hands, which made a shiver run down his spine and the tears on his wet cheeks slowly started to dry because no new ones fell, at least not right now. Like always, your touch calmed him.

"Why are you here?" You asked him instead of giving him an answer to his previous questions, because you could not tell him the truth. To see how the man you loved cried on the edge of your bed because of something that you had done when you had actually just wished to protect him from that very pain was making your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. You did not want to feel this pain nor did you want him to experience it. What have you done?

"Don't go," he murmured and finally raised his head slightly again to look at you with his reddened, swollen eyes, even if the room was dark and both of you could barely make each other out in the dark.

"Don't leave me a second time, please. Not again... don’t do this to me."

You sighed and sat up in bed, because this was exactly what you had not wanted to happen. His sensitivity was no secret to you and you knew how much you meant to him and how much he meant to you. Your mother had decided that you would return to dragonstone and you could not argue against her decision after what had happened today at dinner. Your house was more fragile than ever and if the others were to find out what you felt for each other, it would be the stone that would set a giant chaos into motion. It would be the end of Haus Targaryen as you knew it.

"Go away, Aegon," you murmured and sat down in such a way that your knees were pressed against your chest and your arms were wrapped around your legs as if you wanted to give yourself a hug to comfort yourself.

“No, please ... darling, don’t," whimpered the older prince and climbed next to you on the soft mattress, desperately searching for your gaze and your closeness. He wanted to pull you into him, love you and never let you go again even for a small second, because you were the only thing in this world that gave him something akin to a glimmer of hope, a light in the deepest darkness of his broken soul.

"Butterfly…"

"Don't call me that!" You suddenly spat at him loudly, which immediately made him wince and made hot tears burn in his eyes once more, threatening to spill over his pale cheeks.

You have never been angry with him before. Never.

"I love you! Don't you see that? I love you so much, but I cannot live with the pain of loving a man that I cannot call my own.”

That was it. The words and the truth were out and he had heard them. His suffering broke your heart, but he deserved to hear these three words from you at least once. You loved him, you truly did, but a miracle would need to happen so that you would be able to live out your love. It was not his fault, nor was it yours, as it was the hatred that has been burning between your mothers for years- a hatred that would probably never vanish.

Aegon was speechless. For a moment he just shook his head in disbelief, which made his white curls fall over his forehead, but it did not prevent him from looking into your beautiful face and seeing in the desperate look in your dark eyes that you were serious. "But I already am yours, am I not?"

"Aegon..." Your shoulders sagged even further down and you pushed your legs even further against your upper body, the sight of it making him miserable, because he did not want to imagine what would have happened had he actually went through with his plan and he would have taken you without your consent and made you his without warning. You would probably have shouted and fought back and he could never have forgiven himself for it and you would never have forgiven him either. No, he was glad that he had not done it.

He carefully approached your trembling shape on the bed and he tenderly wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against him as firmly as he could. Now you started to sob into his shoulder bitterly and he started to slowly rock you back and forth, while he buried his nose into your brown hair like he had done earlier, because your scent always seemed to calm him down, but your hair was also a sign for everyone else that you should not exist and that you, being a bastard, would be monstrous by nature, but he could not care about that in the slightest. You were beautiful on the inside and outside and one day he would prove it to you- perhaps even tonight.

"Marry me?" Back then it was a promise, now it was a serious question and he meant it with every fiber of his body. You were meant to be his wife, even if your love would be a scandal in the eyes of the gods, but he has never been a religious man anyways.

"I can't, uncle, I can't."

Aegon started to place soft and slow kisses on the top of your head. He began his exploration on your hair, then wandered down to your forehead, brushing his lips over your eyebrows, over your cheeks, which were wet from the tears that you shed for him until he reached your own lips, which looked so soft and inviting that he could hardly hold back.

"Marry me." He whispered against your lips and he looked for your gaze to see what was going through your head. Your eyes had always been the mirror to your soul.

His voice, his pleading tone, his warm breath that stroked your face, and the sudden closeness to him was just too much for you.

You do not dare to say it, but a simple, barely noticeable nod on your part was enough and the prince kissed you as if his life depends on it, his hands wandering over every centimeter of your body while he gently pushed you to lay on your back and he hovered over you, not separating his mouth from you for even a split second.

The rest of the night you both drowned in a sea of desire and pleasure, years of wanting and yearning coming to its climax. At some point, his hands had sneaked under the fabric of your nightgown, undressed you, while you had returned the favor at the same time, whereupon he had not lost any time to show you what it would mean to be his wife and you enjoyed every single second of it.

Neither Aegon nor you really listened to the argument that followed the next morning after your maid had told Rhaenyra who she had found laying next to you in your bed and what had to have happened at night based on the red stain on your sheets. Insults got thrown around, voices became louder, but you merely snuggled closer to your lover, who protectively wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head to yours while a feeling of happiness flooded him.

You were his now and neither his mother nor yours could ever take you away from him ever again. It was too late for that now.

Love was often said to be the death of duty and Aegon Targaryen would not give a single shit about duty for the rest of his life if it meant he got to forever hold you in his arms like this and love you like you deserved.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

[amathslutsguidetofandom]

How Far Are You Willing To Go? - 1

PAIRINGS: Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

SUMMARY: Amid a quiet life post-divorce initiated by Ghost himself, his past resurfaces when his ex-wife and their young children are abducted. He's thrust into a desperate race against time to save them, facing his own demons and fighting to protect his family at any cost. Question is, how far is he willing to go?

WARNINGS: Angst, if you squint. Simon being a dummy for getting a divorce. Incorrect knowledge of allergies and asthma (please help a girlie out)

WORD COUNT: 1,096

*not proof-red*

ENJOY!

“Rylan needs to take his-,” you immediately get interrupted by his low and rough voice. “Meds, by seven in the evening after having his dinner. Yeah, I know,” you can’t help but feel that there is a trace of disdain in his voice.

Oh, how you’ve heard so many variations of that voice. From the usual rough and dark, to how soft and loving it could go. The latter was a rarity for people to hear, who meet him outside of your home’s doors. For you, however, it was common. Was being the key word. It may have not been the voice you heard 24/7, but it was a voice you heard daily.

You look at him and eye the black surgical mask he wears, “right,” you pause. “Just wanted to make sure,” you give him a purse smile, before bending down to be at eye level with your six-year-old.

“Kyla, be good and take care after your brother. Be kind in school and do your homework. Call me if you ever need some help with it, ok?” You try to wear out the imaginary creases on her little brown cardigan.

She nods her head like a mini determined soldier and says a very affirmative ‘yes Mama.” Then you move over to kneel in front of your youngest, Rylan. The four-year-old with the many existing allergies. He rubs his nose, and you tut at him, “use a tissue honey, here blow into this.” You hand him the handkerchief you always carry around for this exact reason. “Do you have your inhaler?” You ask your boy, and he nods proudly as he reaches into his pocket and shows you the small piece of plastic.

“Call me if you need Mama, ok Rylan?” You rest your hands on his shoulders, and pat down on the sweater, you look into the light brown eyes he inherited from his father and kiss his forehead. He nods at you one last time before turning around and running to your ex-husband’s family truck. Kyla kisses your cheek one last time before screaming a “buh-bye Mama” and running off to catch up with her little brother.

You stand back up and cross your arms, heart hurting a little knowing you’d be spending two weeks without your children. But what can you do? Not complain, of course.

It was part of the divorce agreement that Simon is allowed to have the children over at his place for three weeks maximum, whenever he returns from deployment. You reluctantly agreed, purely to the reason that you wouldn’t survive if you were in Simon’s place and couldn’t be able to see your kids.

You were kind in that way.

Simon loved you for it.

He loved everything about you.

He still does.

The ice around his heart thaws as he sees your eyes become bleary as you watch the kids climb into his backseat.

He hates seeing you sad.

He does everything in his power to mask the emotions he feels, and he does it well.

“Well,” you sniffle, “I-uh….I’ll leave you to it then.” You wipe your eyes nonchalantly before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as a sort of distraction to what you feel currently.

It was always hard for you whenever Simon comes to pick up the kids.

The mother hen in you does not want to send them with him. But you know, a 100 percent sure, that they’re safer with him than with you, considering Simon’s military experience.

One of the main reason’s Simon broke things off with you.

Simon nod’s, his hands remain in the pockets of his hoodie. You lift the little paw patrol and the little Bluey child suitcases and hand it to him. “There are three weeks’ worth of clothes in there, for each of them,” you stick your hands to the side immediately after he takes them into his rough and calloused ones.

“Please call me if-,” you start, but he interrupts you again. “Anything happens. Yeah, I know,” he says with a rough tone that says, “you seriously think they’ll get hurt with me?”.

“Right…...right,” you nod as you whisper, the words more of a reassurance to you.

You try to peak at his eyes under his hoodie, but to no avail, you couldn’t see them under his black tainted sports sunglasses.

His phone starts to ring, and he pulls out of his back pocket to see the caller ID revealing the caller “Price”.

“I’ll see you in two weeks then,” you say, knowing he has to go. He nods in response before turning away and heading back to his truck, he places the suitcases in the passenger seat before double checking the buckles on the child-seat’s where Kyla and Rylan are sat in.

He does all the dad checkup’s before getting in the driver’s seat.

He see’s you through the tainted windows of his truck.

He rolls the back window down so the kids can say their final goodbye’s

“Bye Mama!” Both kids scream and the wave with smiles on their faces. You chuckle wetly as tears silently roll down your cheeks.

You know they’re safe with Simon, but you heart still hurts that they won’t be around for a while.

Simon sees the tears and his own heart breaks.

He pulls out of the driveway with a heavy heart, hating to see the love of his life in tears.

He sighs before pulling out his phone and clicking on Price’s caller ID.

The old Captain picks up after two rings.

“Ghost, we need you.”

🎀🎀🎀

TAGLIST <3: @cntloup @identity2212 @somnorvos @yyiikes @bobateasilverpearl @animarix @outoftheseine

Guess who's back? Back again?

Hey Lovelies!

I know it's been a while, but uni has started and I am trying to re-slay. Here is the much-awaited Simon series I have always wanted to start.

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged!

Also....

Lemme know what y'all think!

Stay Coquette-y,

Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀

[spookypete-94]

Choices have Consequences

Being friends with both Simon and Johnny, you try your best to convince Simon he's better than the man who raised him at the request of Johnny. All because Johnny wants a family... It's you who pays the price.

GhoapxFem!reader

CW for language and pregnancy, baby trapping if you squint??

"You don't know that." Simon grumbled refusing to look up at you. This whole conversation has been unwanted and awkward to him. Not only was he receiving the same message from Johnny, but now you too?

You had been a long time friend to both of them, meeting in the service and proving each other through thick and thin. That didn't mean he appreciated your mock sympathy.

"I do know that, Si. No better men I trust more than you and Johnny. You'll both be wonderful parents."

"Don't wan' be like him." You knew what he was referring to. He was afraid to be a parent and end up like his father.

"You ever think it's that cognitive choice that makes us better than the people who raised us? The fact we don't want to be like them? I think it does and because you remember what you had growing up, it's going to make and keep you different."

Brown coals looked up through you from the slots of his mask. A fire ignited peeking through the black war paint that you could see on his skin.

"Ya' mean that?"

"I do. Think you're a good man for the job. Both you and Johnny are going to raise some wonderful children." Reaching across lightly squeezing his hand that was next to his mug full of tea.

A heavy sigh left him as he nodded, taking in your words. A whole plan plotting in his head, taking seed and growing across his brain.

If only you could see it.

As a thank you for talking Simon into being open to having children, Johnny had invited you over for dinner a few days later.

Celebrating they pulled out the expensive whiskey, sharing it with you after a hearty dinner.Maybe that's what caused you to let your guard down. An invite to Simon and Johnny both.

It had left you in shock as Simon had you folded up against Johnny, slamming into you at a rough and hard pace. Each pant and heavy breath, him explaining that him and Johnny had decided to try the old fashioned way. Giving their seed to you for you to grow their much wanted baby. A piece of Simon and Johnny mixed with you. What better gift??

The more shocking part however was Johnny whispering in your ear over and over again of over flowing gratitude.

"Thank ya' hen, would never o' got this far wit' out ya'."

Simon pounded into you harder from the praise. You and Johnny cornering him both about this?? Fine. A baby it is then, but you're going to help too dammit.

"Givin' me and Si the greatest gift. Our little family ey'?"

9 months later, a blonde brown eyed boy was born. Mission accomplished right?

It wasn't like Simon and Johnny had planned to keep you after this right??

Wrong.

A part of their little family you were, and a part of their family you would stay. Even if you wanted it or not, this is the price you pay for telling Simon he was a loveable man. You are theirs now.

Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

Part 2

[ahedderick]

Little Brown

WELL, things have been dramatic in the chicken run this last week. Thursday night around 3:30 am I heard a frightened squawk. I jumped out of bed already running, collected Lady and a stout walking stick, and charged out the door.

Little Brown was flopped bonelessly in front of the repurposed dogbox she and the chicks sleep in. A possum had climbed up and over the chainlink fence to try to get a chicken dinner. It was IN the box, snarling in a corner, while the chicks were peeping frantically but too frightened to come out. Chickens can't see in the dark at ALL (unlike me) and they are unable to do much to save themselves if something attacks at night.

I folded Little Brown back into chicken shape (first rule for a shocky critter, gently put them back into a comfortable position.) I reached, very unhappily, unto the box, and scooped frightened chicks out. My husband showed up at this point with a 22 and dispatched the possum. A careful check of Little Brown revealed that she had quite a few feathers missing and some scrapes and scratches - but no serious injuries visible. One chick had been killed.

With the box emptied of vermin, I settled her back inside with the chicks. They were all peeping in confusion, but settled back down very quickly.

The next day the chicks were up and about as normal, but she wouldn't leave her nest. Shock, or an internal injury, had left her pretty much ready to lie down and die. I tried setting her in the sun, dipping her beak very gently in the water in her dish, offering delicious strawberries. Nope.

Saturday we asked my son's roommate for help. With all the medical care I've given mammals, I've never had to take care of an injured bird like this. As a falconer, he was able to show us how to gently open her beak, and we got a couple syringes of milk-and-almond-flour gruel into her.

The calories and hydration from that jarred her back into the land of the living. When we tried to give her more on Sunday, she struggled so heartily that we pronounced her able to feed on her own. As any farmer or vet can tell you, a patient that suddenly starts fighting their medical care is beginning to feel better!

There is a tarp securely strapped over the top of the enclosure. She is moving slowly, but eating her feed and taking care of the chicks. Whew.

[peachesofteal]

Winter driving, or the ability to drive in hazardous conditions, is a major thing where I live.

People often overestimate their abilities or just lack the skills, proper equipment, and wreck… usually by sliding off the road.

Anyway, this makes me think about you, reader, driving a mountain pass in the dead of winter. The kind of winter where the ice is like glass on the trees, where the windshield of your car makes you feel like you’re in the millennium falcon during a hyperspace jump, where the air is so cold it hurts your chest. During the day it might be nice, the sun could be out, the wind could be warmer, but at night… everything is treacherous.

And maybe you’re not an experienced driver, in the snow. Maybe you don’t have great tires. Maybe you’re driving just a bit too fast, and before you can correct it, you’re spinning out of control, wrecking into a grove of thick trees. The last thing you can feel is the trickle of blood, dripping down your face, and the last thing you see… are the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

When you wake, it’s in a bed. Your head is killing you and your shoulder, upper arm are screaming in agony. But you’re warm, and bundled under a heap of quilts, hot water bottle under blankets by your feet.

What happened? You try to sit up, but can’t, squinting in the light of the morning, and when you try again, putting more effort into curling your spine forward, it hurts so badly that you yelp.

That’s when you see him. A man steps out of the corner of the room, from the edge of your peripheral… and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye.” He coos, coming closer and you get a better look at him, handsome, sweet face with an overgrown mohawk and brilliant blue eyes. “Ye had a terrible accident.” He says, ceramic mug from his hand clinking down onto the table next to you. “Pure luck we found ye when we did. Ye might’ve died out there, hen.”

“I-“

“Here. Drink this.” He pours something from a kettle into the mug, lifting it your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even lift your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes at the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” He murmurs, re tucking the misplaced blankets around your shoulder. You’re feeling woozy all of the sudden, maybe a little sick, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, tallest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” The bigger one says to the mohawk one, and he grimaces, trailing fingertips along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.”

“It’s been four days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Four days? Your brain latches onto the time. Since when?

“Ah know.” He slumps. “Tomorrow?” He sounds hopeful, and the brown eyed man nods.

You’re starting to fade, listening to them talk, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that confuses you until you’re losing the battle to sleep, not with it enough to hear the click of the padlock.

[pearlsinmyhair]

˖⋆˚₊⊹ his muse

hobie brown x fem!reader

this has been in my drafts for. forever. like it was summer when i wrote it on a whim. this initially started as a request for hobie with a reader that came from wealth. the vivienne westwood imagery picked up from there, and i just kinda had fun with it. and now im posting it- huzzah!

warnings: smoking (cigarettes). mentions of drinking. slight nsfw at the very end. meet-cute that leads to smut. hobie being a flirt. fem!reader.

hobie is in the midst of a creative rut that he can’t get out of, no matter how much he tries to. that is, until some inspiration walks through the door.

hobie was in a musical rut.

which never happened to him. never. if he needed a subject for a song, all he had to do was look outside for five minutes or watching the news for even less to have a subject.

that was the wonderful thing about hating the establishment: infinite cruelty, infinite song ideas.

but here he was, staring down at his guitar and picking at strings aimlessly. nothing came to him, no note or melody stuck out to him as song worthy.

he was sitting on the worn couch in his band’s makeshift studio, crosslegged and hunched over his guitar like a madman.

a soft knock came from the doorway, and he looked up to find one of his band mates hitting their knuckles against the doorway.

“you need to get out, man. you’re cooped up.” he said, stepping into the room to stand over hobie like a mother hen. “some fresh air will do you good.”

hobie scoffed, never one to take orders from anyone. but then he exhaled and leaned back, looking up at his friend with an exasperated expression.

“and where exactly do you intend for us to go?” he asked lowly, grumbling.

that’s exactly how he ended up here, in a music club full of bodies he didn’t want to touch and liquor he didn’t want to drink.

it wasn’t a traditional club scene by any means. It was a bit more artistic, leaning away from rave-style places that he’d gone to before. but it still wasn’t his preferred place.

he nursed a shirley temple, which his friend had shoved into his hand unceremoniously before disappearing into the crowd. hobie had decided that he would be the designated driver, and he understood that his band mates were going to take full advantage of that fact.

when they entered the place, his drummer had leaned over.

“maybe you’ll find a muse, hobes. i’m sure there’s plenty of pretty things in this place to give you ideas.” the boy wiggled his brows, and hobie promptly shoved him away with a chuckle.

now, he leaned against a counter and wondered what the hell he was doing. this wasn’t air. this was just distracting noise.

and said noise was becoming a little too much for his senses.

he made eye contact with one of his more sober mates, gesturing that he was going to go somewhere private. he sent a text to their group chat as well saying the same thing.

not a role model

-> heading to the back, text or call if you need me

little drummer boy

-> you’re no fun, man.

not a role model

-> 🖕🏿

he moved down a hallway, the sound of bass and electronic beats fading into a pleasant jazz sound that made its way through the speakers overhead.

the space behind the actual club was a kind of lounge, filled with warm ambiance and vinyl records and leather arm chairs. when his friends brought him here, he always inevitably retreated to this quieter space.

it was ironic really. the punk unable to handle crowds and noise. but this was a much different setting from his own shows, so he cut himself some slack.

he sunk into one of the armchairs in a side room, his head lolling back to look up at the ceiling. his head slightly throbbed, and he began to regret not drinking water.

he reached in his pocket to pull out a cigarette box.

he wasn’t a casual smoker, not by a long shot. it just helped to have something to drag on sometimes, something to burn his throat while he was thinking.

right as he put the cig to his lips, the door banged open and slammed shut once more, the lock sliding home.

his spider-senses told him to prepare, but when he looked up they stopped buzzing.

because a girl leaned against the wall across from him, her chest heaving and her eyes wide.

she looked afraid, scared. the way her fingers trembled alerted him to the sheer amount of adrenaline running through her veins currently.

and she hadn’t even noticed him yet. he took a moment to glance over her.

she wore a pretty little lace dress, black and short, with straps that barely cling to her shoulders. his eyes drifted down her bare legs to the black platform gogo boots on her feet, and he was impressed with the height she was balancing on. he knew from experience that those shits weren’t easy to master.

he had been a model once, and he knew enough to see that the girls clothes were expensive. like, wearing his rent expensive.

she took an anxious step, only to wobble like a baby deer, legs too long to stand properly.

maybe not so stable after all.

when she still didn’t notice him (too busy listening to the door), he opened his mouth to make himself known.

“runnin’ from something, little fawn?”

her eyes snapped to him, and she jumped slightly when she realized that someone else was in the room with her. her wide doe eyes did nothing to help disapprove the nickname. she opened and closed her mouth to speak, struggling to get the words out.

“i’m not running.”

he chuckled.

“no? do ya’ slam and lock doors at clubs often then?”

she scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. she took a step away from the door, though he could tell she was keeping track of any noise.

“i’m just…catching my breath.” she said, pulling at the necklace around her throat.

hobie’s eyes drifted down to it, surprised to find a string of pearls with an all too familiar saturn pendent.

his curiosity got the best of him. “real or fake?”

her eyes darted up to meet his, and she looked away in embarrassment as she said “real.”

he let out an impressed whistle. “that’s why you’re running.” he mumbled as the pieces clicked together.

she gave him an incredulous look, eyebrows furrowing in a way that he found adorable.

“my guess” he said as he stood from the chair, taking a step towards the girl. “is that you definitely aren’t supposed to be here. rich girl, pretty dress, innocent look. this place is practically forbidden for your like.”

her gaze hardened into a glare. “and what exactly is my like, hobie brown?”

he smirked. “you know my name.”

a statement. she deflated slightly.

“i’ve been to your shows.” she said, voice lowering. it was just enough to make him realize how close they were. he registered her body language quickly, noting how she didn’t shy away. so he didn’t either.

“interestin’, doll. does your daddy know?”

“don’t condescend me.”

he took a step back then, raising his hand in an ‘i come in peace’ gesture. “easy there. just askin.”

he went to grab a lighter to light his cigarette, reaching down into his jackets pocket. when he found nothing, he groaned softly.

a click made him look up, only to be met with the girl holding up a lighter of her own. he leaned forward to light his cigarette, and she held his gaze as the sizzling sound breiflu filled their silence.

“as you can see” she said softly. “i am not quite ‘my like’.”

he let out a puff of smoke, making sure to turn his head so that it didn’t flow into her pretty face. she coughed anyway.

he chucked. “what you doin’ with a light if you don’t smoke?”

she flipped the lighter in her hand, and it took a moment to notice that it was one of the silver heart ones that were popular.

“you like vivienne, huh?” he said, looking down at her with half lidded eyes as he took another drag.

“what can i say, i have a thing for punks.” she replied, looking up at him through her lashes.

oh, he was going to eat her.

“s’that so?” he asked, wanting to drag whatever admission she was holding in. he leaned close over her, and she stretched her neck to look right up at him. this close, he could smell whatever shampoo she used.

she was off limits. but he never really abided by rules, did he?

“what’re you runnin’ from, doll?” he asked, tapping his cigarette out as he waited for an answer.

“my father sent a body guard out to find me. i snuck out, and the man’s in the club right now.” she said, watching the way his lips curled around the cigarette.

the air kicked on, and the girl below him shivered. he shrugged off his jacket with a sigh, pulling it around her. she accepted it gratefully, practically nuzzling up against the collar.

fuck, he was a goner.

“better get you out of here, then.” he said, using the edges of his jacket to tug her closer. she smirked, allowing him to pull her against his body. “that would be great.”

he leaned down as he texted the chat, brushing his lips against the top of her ear as he typed.

not a role model

-> hey, i got someone i need to take home. anyone sober?

little drummer boy

-> the fuck are you on about, why would anyone be sober.

fresh meat

-> i am, go enjoy yourself hobes.

thank god for tyler, he thought as he pulled back the collar of his jacket to press his mouth to the girls jaw.

as she snuck him into her room later, the lyrics of a song began to write themselves in his head.

and as he thrust into her, her hands fumbling against her silk sheets and her moans in his ear, he realized that he had found his muse after all.

hobie’s masterlist

[theprongspotter]

Impulse - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 30 - 504 words

“James.” Regulus blinks, staring at the scene before him as if he’s stepped into some sort of bizarre alternate reality. There, in the middle of their kitchen, stands James Potter, cradling a brown hen in his arms as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “There’s no way this is real,” Regulus mutters to himself.

“Yes, jaanu?” James replies, his tone entirely too innocent as he beams at Regulus, the endearing nickname slipping from his lips with practiced ease.

Regulus narrows his eyes, disbelief still etched across his features. “Tell me that you didn’t impulse buy a chicken.”

James scoffs, as if the very idea is preposterous. “First of all, her name is Henrietta,” he corrects, holding the hen a little closer to his chest as if to shield her from any further insult. He runs a soothing hand over Henrietta’s head, her soft feathers ruffling under his touch. “Second of all, Remus grew up on a farm, so I basically know everything about chickens.”

Regulus isn’t moved by James’ logic; if anything, his expression hardens as he crosses his arms over his chest, a clear sign of his mounting exasperation. “I sent you to the store for eggs,” he points out, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and disbelief that James could’ve possibly misunderstood such a simple task.

James, ever the optimist, is unfazed. His eyes light up with enthusiasm as he presents his argument, cradling Henrietta like a prized possession. “Henrietta is a lifetime supply of eggs!” he declares triumphantly, as if this is the most brilliant solution to Regulus’ request.

Regulus’ gaze shifts from James to the hen, who seems perfectly content nestled in James’ arms. He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the headache that’s threatening to form. “James,” he begins slowly, trying to keep his tone calm, “a lifetime supply of eggs is not what I meant when I asked you to pick up a dozen.”

“But think about it,” James continues, undeterred by Regulus’ lack of enthusiasm. “She’s eco-friendly, and we’ll never have to worry about running out of eggs again! Plus,” he adds with a mischievous grin, “she’s kind of cute, right?”

Regulus can’t help the small, begrudging smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks at the ridiculous scene in front of him. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s no real bite to his words.

James’ grin widens, sensing victory. “So… can we keep her?”

Regulus sighs, already knowing he’s lost this battle. “Fine,” he concedes, rolling his eyes. “But you’re cleaning up after her, and don’t think this means you’re off the hook for getting those eggs next time.”

James cheers, pressing a quick kiss to Regulus’ cheek before turning his attention back to Henrietta. “Hear that, Henrietta? You’re part of the family now!”

Regulus shakes his head, but there’s a warmth in his chest that he can’t quite deny. Living with James was never going to be boring, that much is clear.

[s-coquette]

Three’s a Crowd (1/2)

summary: Your loving boyfriend Johnny is trying to force Simon into your relationship without your consent.

word count: 2k

part two

———————

His electric blue eyes beamed at you, it was easy to get lost in them. You felt like you were swimming laps in the oceans that were his irises before you eventually drowned in them.

“I love ya, bonnie. You know that right?”

You couldn’t help but let the infectious grin spread to your face. Cradling his giant head in your hands before smushing your faces together in an ugly display of affection. Laying on your shared bed, facing each other and basking in your shared presence. Everything felt perfect.

“I love you too, Johnny.”

•

Johnny was an easy going man. You met him almost a year ago while you were walking your dog, she managed to jump onto him and get his pants wet with her dirty paws. You scolded her while trying to apologise, the embarrassment of your pups doings making you talk 100 an second.

Somehow that spiralled into him asking for your number, which you gladly gave. It’s not every day you meet an attractive guy with the most intoxicating personality you ever witnessed. Ever since then it’s been perfect, everything you could ask for and more. Johnny was the most attentive and honest man you’ve ever met in your life, when you admitted that you’ve never been in a relationship before his only answer was,

“I ought to show you the best then, hen.”

From what you could gather Johnny was ex-military, being with the strict routine and the regular nightmares, runs in the morning, going to the gym almost every day. He later told you he was discharged because he lost some of his hearing, especially in his right ear, explaining that he was a demolitions expert.

You felt bad for him, it’s obviously something he loved very much, he’d talk about his time in the service, about his squad. That’s when the name ‘Simon’ starts appearing a lot. Of course he told you about his Captain, John Price, and the same ranking sergeant Kyle or as he would call him ‘Gaz’. You weren’t well versed in the entire military thing, the most you knew were some rankings and that’s it. It never really mattered to you that much, but since it was your boyfriends favourite topic, you’d learn for him.

The name ‘Ghost’ or ‘Simon’ was brought up a lot. It made you uncomfortable sometimes, the extent on which he emphasised that man.

Johnny called him his best friend, he was a lieutenant if you understood him correctly. He said he was still in contact with him but that the bond they had while they were in the army was something else. The nights they spent together locked up in safe houses alone and injured, looking out for each other. He told you that Simon seemed like a big scary monster once you first see him, but when you crack down his walls a little he is comforting and relaxing.

The way he talked about this man made you slightly creeped out, the erotic undertones of some of the things he described were sounding more like love confessions than stories from their service.

•

“Simon’s in town for a bit, mind going out to the pub with us?”

Johnny had asked you excitedly, he was going wether you wanted to or not.

You sighed and decided that it was time to meet the man your boyfriend idolised so much. Getting dressed casually as it wasn’t a date.

The first time you approached him you had to do a double take, looking at Johnny ready to ask if you were going to the right person.

There, seated at the small stools on the pub was this mammoth of a man, absolutely gigantic and muscled everywhere. You almost broke out into a sweat from the way his brown gaze pierced through you. Gulping as Johnny hugged him, his stare directed at the man was so affectionate and loving that you kind of felt jealous.

The thing that creeped you out about him was the black balaclava that tightly hugged his head. What kind of people was Johnny considering close friends? The night was spent tense, Simon wouldn’t move his eyes off of you. It felt like he was dissecting you brain to see your inner thoughts with how hard he was staring you down.

You exchanged some words, awkwardly sitting next to Johnny while he had a blast talking his ass off. If he’s happy that’s all that matters you guess.

“Y’know, ye should come over sometime! The lass n’ I get quite bored without much company.”

The suggestion made you pause your obnoxious slurping with your straw, trying to scoop out any contents left of the barely alcoholic cocktail.

“I just might.”

The deep baritone voice paired with his Manchester accent made that sound like a threat. You sincerely hoped it was white lie.

After saying your goodbyes that night, Johnny continued to rave about the man. This made you slightly annoyed, you get that they shared way more vulnerable moments together than you two ever will but he’s been yapping about him non stop since you got home.

“Johnny, I don’t really think Simon is the type of person i’d like to be around. Next time you can go by yourself.”

The edge of your tone made him perk up, eyebrows furrowed.

“Why? Wha’s wrong, hen? Did he say somethin’ to you?”

“No- I just… Don’t feel like i belong in your friendship, and i don’t want to intrude on it.”

You forced out with almost gritted teeth. The look on Johnnys face almost made you feel guilty for saying that.

“Why would you think so, bonnie?”

He continues to question you, keeping probing for a real answer and you snap.

“I don’t know, Johnny. He’s creepy as shit to be honest and I felt like he was going to kill me with how hard he was staring at me the whole night, you can hang out with who you want to but seriously keep me

out of this one.”

That visibly made your boyfriend upset. His thin lips pressed into a line, almost looking like he was pouting, in any other context you would’ve gushed at how cute he looked but right now you were frustrated.

You sighed, you couldn’t be mad at him. He was your first boyfriend and you really didn’t want to fuck things up with him.

You put your knees on the edge of the bed where he was sitting and hugged his head to your chest, lightly caressing his slightly overgrown mohawk with your nails.

“You can..”

He perked up, his eyes suddenly losing their sadness. He stared at you like he was waiting for you to continue. Almost like a dog wagging its tail.

“You can invite him over, I guess. Just leave me out of it.”

“Will do!”

He enthusiastically pushed your face down and smashed your mouths together, basically licking the inside your mouth. The action making you giggle and push at his chest.

He only gripped you tighter, his calloused hands sliding down your shoulders and ribs, comfortably placing them on your waist. Johnny pushed you down onto his lap and you felt just how hard he was, his erection straining against his jeans.

A breathy whine escapes you as he pushes you down to feel his arousal.

“What’s got you so worked up?”

He only sends you a malicious grin in response before flipping you on your back, unceremoniously flopping on the bed. His pace was rabid as he teared your clothes off, making you gasp at his unusual behaviour.

When he discarded your soaked through panties, he made it a point to spread your legs as wide as he could to stare at your cunt. The embarrassment of being so closely analysed making you reach a hand down and cover yourself, the action was quickly shut down when he slapped your hand away resulting in a gasp.

“Why’re you hiding yer’ pretty little cunt from me, hen?”

The grin in his voice was so strong that you didn’t even need to look at him to see it.

“Jealous little thing, huh? Got all wet and angry because she thought Simon was gonna steal me away.”

Realisation dawned on you when you realised he wasn’t talking to you, but your cunt. You let out a warning whine for him to stop, leg pushing at his shoulder in protest.

“Why would I? Seems like she likes a little dirty talk. Maybe i should get Simon to watch me fuck her and see who really owns her, huh?”

The way he was talking about it as if it were a person was making you uncomfortably wet. The constant mentioning of Simon fuelled your nerves from before, making you shove at his shoulders with you feet.

You let out a whimper when you finally felt his thumb circling your clit in fast and right circles, just how you like it. Head falling back against the pillows and drowning in the sensation, anger melting away.

“Wha’s wrong? You don’t like hearing about Simon?”

You nodded, trying to prove your point but he just sped up, his index stroking your folds and making slick sounds while teasing to push in.

“Big bloke, yeah? You don’t find him attractive?”

You shake your head, letting out a loud moan when he pushes his finger in and curls it just the way you like, pressing directly on the spongy spot and swirling it around.

“With the way your little pussy is reacting, I don’t think that’s the whole truth, hen. Bet you want him to pound this tight little cunt until you can’t think. Big arms around your neck, hot cock inside your cunt.”

He added another finger, speeding up his movements.

The way he was describing it was making you wetter, the thought of the man you despised, felt jealousy over, was making you turned on. The guilty feeling was nagging at the back of your head but you couldn’t shake off the stimulation he was giving you, too focused on pleasure to stop him.

“Ah- That’s it, hen. You like that? Can’t say i haven’t thought about it myself either.”

That made you snap out of it, trying to sit up only to be pushed down again with a hand to your chest.

“Shhh, just enjoy it.”

He kept going, your climax way too close, you tried bucking your hips up to add onto the stimulation with little success.

“Say Simon while you’re cumming or i won’t fuck you for the rest of the month.”

That made you perk up, a pained whine escaping you, a little string of ‘no’ followed by a loud moan when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked.

You felt the blinding hot pleasure peak as you gripped at his hair and tried to push him away.

A meek little ‘Simon’ escaped you as your climax peaked, with his hard hearing you weren’t sure if he even heard you, you sure hoped he didn’t.

The grin on his slick covered face when he rose up was telling the truth.

“Why would you ask me to say that!?”

Your post orgasm emotions washing over you, wanting to cling onto him but feeling betrayed by him and your own body.

“I ken’ you think you don’t like him, but give him a chance, hen. I wanted to ask you If you’re ok with him watching us fuck.”

He’s got you nice and pliable, vulnerable to every word he says, perfect.

“Wha-“

“It’s normal, y’ ken? You’ve never been in an actual relationship so you wouldn’t know. Best friends do this all the time.”

The confused look on your face made him smile, he just laid down and pushed you into his chest, still fully erect under his clothes.

As you were about to open you mouth to protest, he gripped your cheeks and kissed you roughly.

“I ken you’d understand! My good girl. He’s coming over on Sunday.”

You couldn’t handle arguing right now and decided to leave it for tomorrow morning. Letting sleep engulf you while you rested on your boyfriends sturdy and warm chest.

[yeyinde]

coorie | John "Soap" MacTavish x f!Reader

He pants against your mouth, and you can feel the stretch of his grin—a languorous, satiated smile like the sunrise in the winter. All dark, endlessly so, and then suddenly— Johnny feels like dusk. The first breach of the morning over the lands; a sleepy haze of light eating into the tenebrose that shrouds everything around you. A steak of ochre, gold, in a world of darkness; the varicoloured smear of pastel clouds breaking over the horizon. 

Being with him is a little bit like cupping the sun in the palm of your hand. 

warnings: soft!Soap, super soft smut, fluff, domestic bliss, two idiots being drunk off of each other; female gendered anatomy, female!reader; very little substance just pure fluff

word count: 4k

notes: coorie is a cuddle in Scots and that's the cutest thing to me. we just have cwtsh. also, you can't look me in the eye and tell me this man ISN'T the little spoon.

The scent of wych elm and smoked cedar fill the back of your throat when you breathe in. The cloying richness tickles your nose; the heft of it is familiar, heady. Your head—fuzzy and thick from sleep—swims with the visceral sense of comfort that settles deep in your lungs when you pull it in. You know this smell. 

(Have a piece of it tucked under your pillow.

Did you see where my shirt went? The one I got from Aubin? I went runnin' in it this mornin', hen. Can't find it anywhere.

Maybe it's in the wash. 

Aye, maybe. 

You shoved it under the one he used, tucked it there for those nights that never seemed to end; when you always found yourself missing him the most.

Your secret to keep.)

You're caught in the middle of sleep and wakefulness; a purgatory where the world does not yet exist outside of the soft sheets dragging over your skin. Torn between the dream you were having that is still within reach (the taste of alder on your tongue, a hand across your pulse), and the cognisance that seeps inside: the birds outside of the window chittering, the cars driving across wet cobblestone, honking in the distance. 

And then—

There is a weight on you that—like the smell— doesn't belong. 

You'd gone to bed alone. Have done so for months now. The only company you keep is just the shirt, whose enticing scent has long since faded. 

You feel it, now. 

A weight. A presence. Something notches on your shoulder, a blunt pressure digging into your neck—a heaviness securing you to the bed, locked over your chest, and across your thighs. 

Your blankets could never be so firm, so warm. 

The dream slips into the recesses of your mind when your eyes crack open. A little sliver. The world bathed in bright gold. 

A rasp of something gritty and sharp scratches over the soft flesh below your shoulder, above the swell of your breast. The graze of it makes you smile. Makes you lull your head to the side until your nose meets wry curls that tickle your lips. 

You breathe him in. Sweat. Aged wood. 

He must have snuck in sometime during the night. 

(Finally, finally—)

The world resumes in pieces. The top of his brown hair under your eyes, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, soft plumes of humid breath on your throat, his grip over your ribs. Thighs tangled together. 

Like this, with your head dazed and spooled with the gossamer of somnolence, you can't begin to know where he ends and you begin. You merge together. A mess of limbs, heavy and thick with the scent of sleep. Warm milk. Honey. 

Johnny sleeps like a child. Always grasping out, reaching for you. He clings to you; body wrapping around yours as if he was trying to merge atoms. 

He might be. Johnny is a cuddler. The kind that sticks to you like glue, and refuses to let go. 

A slow, languid smile curls on your lips. Your arm laid on the pillow he's supposed to be using lifts, and falls gently to the top of his head. Nails rake through the coarse hair, scratching his scalp. His shorn sides are a little longer than you remember it, tufts of hair the same length as your fingernail. He'll need a haircut. 

You follow the trail of his mohawk, sliding down the nape of his neck, the knob of his spine. Real. Solid. 

You'll never tell him, but when he's gone, you often dream of him at night. The sweetness of it carries into the morning where it's ground into pain when you remember he's gone. When your fingers slide through the sheets in search of the man who isn't there, and meet the cold, barren emptiness across from you. 

He never sleeps in his spot, anyway. Always somehow wrapped around you instead. 

But this—

Waking up to the smell of him thick in your nose, the taste of him on your fingertips—it's the closest to heaven you think you'll ever get. 

At your touch, Johnny moans, low and rough. The sound drenched in sleep, and needy. A heat—soft, fluttering—spumes in your belly. The weight of his knee pressing into your hip bone makes you take a sharp, deep breath. 

It's been too long since his skin touched yours. Since the heat of him seeped to your marrow. 

Your nails dance down his spine, relishing the feel of his hard muscles under your palm. Johnny makes another noise—a soft husk, full of sleepy longing—and it goes straight to your core. His body flexes, coiling over you. He snuggles in deeper, as if that was even possible. But you know Johnny. 

Any gap, any space, between your bodies will be sought after and conquered. 

His nose pushes into your pulse point, stubble chafing your skin. The weight of him is solid. Comforting. Johnny's hand curls around your ribs. You melt into his embrace. Soft, gummy. He's sickly sweet—your gruff military man.

His knee stretches when he moves, his hip nudging into you. 

He's naked. You feel the thickness of him twitching against your side. Wetness leaks, dampens your skin. 

You burrow your face into his crown, and catch the scent of gunfire and polymer that clings to the tips of his cropped hair. 

He didn't even shower. Stripped down, sleepy and jetlagged, and slipped into your bed. 

Nails rove over his broad shoulders until you're locked into some parody of a hug. You feel the heft of his bicep beneath your hands. The weight of his burning flesh over your body. Clad in only panties and a loose top, you feel the fever billowing inside of you. 

There is something intimate about waking up next to someone nude. A stark thing that settles in your ribs, clotting in the brackets between them. 

The flavour of vulnerability. Touches of domesticity. It leaks into your marrow, bringing with it something soft and tender. 

Illicit. 

It brims up. Buoying to the surface. A low-grade fever itching under your skin. The blunt press of his hard, leaking cock on your skin is nothing short of enticing. 

Your thighs part as much as they're able to with his weight on you, hand slipping out from under the pillow. You take a moment to run your fingers over his forearm, nestled snugly under your breasts. The weight of him makes your chest flutter. Heart seizing when he squeezes you tight to him. 

The coarse hair of his thigh on your navel feels good under your palm. Muscular. He told you once when he brought you to a football game that he used to play. Still does when he has the time. A group of his old schoolmates on a rare Saturday when everyone is around. 

You can feel it in the thick bulk of him. Years of practice, training. 

But now—

It's in the way. 

His thigh is too thick for you to slip your hand over. 

Your core throbs. The sticky press of his hard cock against you does little to abate the ache growing inside. 

A huff spills from your lips. His hair flutters. Another noise spills from deep within his chest when you push at his leg, trying to slip it down lower so you can sink your fingers into your aching pussy. 

It doesn't work. He tucks himself closer to you, and rocks his hips into yours. 

A wry twist of your lips. At least someone is getting off. 

You try again, wriggling. 

He moves, pulls his hand out from where it's caught between the bed and your chest, running his warm, rough palm over your skin.

The movement makes you pause, hand falling still on his knee. You went to bed late last night, having stayed up watching trashy television until the early hours. He must have snuck in sometime after. 

Your eyes skirt to the clock on the wall. It's barely mid-morning. 

He needs sleep. 

Did you wake him—?

He dips under the hem of your cropped sleep shirt, and cups your breast in his palm. 

"Johnny—," you breathe, just barely a whisper.

He groans low. Flashes fan over your collarbones. "Couldn't wait for me?" 

His accent is thick in the morning, groggy and flooded with sleep. You shiver, hips lifting slightly off the bed. You're stopped, of course, by the weight of him. 

"You took too long," you murmur, panting into his hair. 

He grumbles; the noise reverberates through his chest. "Sorry, bonnie. Got my girl all worked up. Needy for it."

His fingers brush over your nipple. The flash of pleasure makes your toes curl, his name leaves your mouth in a breathless plea. 

"I know, I know…" he husks into your neck. "I'll take care'a ya, bonnie." 

"Wanna make you feel good—"

"Nah, dove. Just be a good girl for me, aye?"

"Johnny—"

His fingers rub your nipple until your peak hardens, pinched softly between his thumb and forefinger. His cock presses into you—little cants of his hip that make you burn for it. 

It's been so long. 

Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulder. "Please, baby, I can't take it—"

His laugh huff across your neck. "Needy little thing."

His thigh slides off your waist before you can snap something back, lips pressing to your pulse. It makes your breath catch when you feel the graze of his warm mouth, his tongue; it laves over your skin, carrying the flash of teeth. A tease, a nip. Between the burn from the stubble, and the soft bites to your skin, your neck will soon be a mosaic of his devotion. 

Your thighs part, desperation pooling inside of you with each brush of his warm, calloused fingers over your nipple. You want it, ache for it—

"Fuck, bonnie." His hips rut into you, cock so hard you think it might bruise your flesh. It leaks prespend over your skin until you're tacky with it. 

Your mouth waters. You wonder if he'll taste of the beach—

Your head lulls, nose nuzzling his crown. "Wanna taste you later, baby. Missed having your cock in my mouth—"

"Steamin' Jesus, bonnie—," it's bitten off in a moan. A desperate rut. His fingers spasm over your breast. "Cannae say shite like that when I haven't had this pretty mouth in months —"

"You should learn to be quicker with the missions then." 

His teeth sink into your neck, and you sputter, thighs snapping shut to stem the deep ache.

Johnny's tongue snakes out, laving over the indents left behind by his teeth. "I come home to you as quickly as I can, bonnie."

Your voice is barely a whisper. "I know." 

He groans into your neck when he moves, his hand slipping out from under his body, and resting on the pillow. His head raises, your eyes meet. Golden honey, rich and thick and full of want, gazes at you from under heavy lids. 

His smile feels like the dawning sun curving over the horizon. A flash of teeth. His forehead drops, presses to yours. Noses brushing. You breathe in him. 

"Hey," he murmurs against your lips, the barest touch. "I missed ya, hen." 

Your hands curl over his shoulders, knees parting to let him closer. A smile, soft and gentle, pulls on the corners of your mouth. "Hiya. Missed you, too."

He ruts into the seam of your thighs, heavy cock sliding over your clothed cunt. "God, bonnie. Thought about ya always. Couldn't get you outta my head." 

"You say that every time you come home."

His head ducks down, muzzling his stubble against your cheek. You feel the press of teeth under your jaw. "An' I mean it every time."

"I'm already gonna fuck you, babe. No need to try and charm me into it," you taunt, nails raking softly down is back. A tickle. A tease. His hips jerk into yours, a groan slipping from his lips. 

"Charm? Oh, bonnie—," his voice is rich caramel, thick and sweet in your ear. "I'm just fuckin' crazy for ya, cariño."

You huff. "Cariño? That's new." 

"Sí, mi corazón." 

Your brows raise. "I love how even when speaking a completely different language, you still sound incredibly Scottish."

"Aye," he nips your chin again. "You can take the Scot out of Scotland, but you can't—"

Your mouth presses to his, catching teeth. "Just shut up and fuck me, already, Johnny."

His mouth captures yours, tongue delving into it with a groan. He tastes of thistle. Your breath comes out in sharp pants against his cheek. 

Your hand slides down his arms, reaching under to tug at your panties. When he feels you move, he laughs low in his throat, lips clumsily glued to yours. 

"Gonna pull 'em to the side for me? That desperate, mi reina?"

"Very," you breathe, eyes lidded and heavy. "I only had my fingers, you know." 

He looks good like this—bathed in the gentle sunlight, sunkissed from his adventure in Mexico—and leaning over you, eyes hungry. Right where he belongs. 

"Yeah?" He rasps, swallowing thickly. His hand follows the path set by your own, fingers curling under your knee. "Was it good, bonnie? Did you fuck yourself senseless and think of me?"

"It was good," you whine, back arching when his cock brushes your wet cunt. The head taps against your clit. "But it wasn't you." 

"Gotta give my girl a proper pounding then, aye?"

"Yes," you hiss, eyes fluttering when he takes his cock in hand, and thrusts it through your drenched folds. "I want it, Johnny."

"Push 'em to the side, bonnie. I need to be in your cunt, now."

Whimpering, your fingers hook on the gusset of your damp panties, pulling them back. Opening yourself for him, and desperate for it. 

"Wanna fuck you proper later on," he rasps, his cock nudging against your cunt. "But I can't wait, dove. Fuck, the things you do to me—"

You're not wet enough for it to be seamless, but it's been months since you felt him split you apart, and the burn, the sting, of him stretching you open all over again makes your toes curl. It rides the edge of indelible pain and pleasure; an amalgam of being both excruciatingly good and too much all at the same time. Overwhelming. Perfect.

Your legs hook on his thighs when he nudges the head of his cock inside of you, opening yourself wider for him to take. 

He breathes out your name on a shuddered rasp that makes your cunt clench, pulsing with the delirious ache of having him within you once more. Hair dampened with sweat, his upper lip is slick when he presses his mouth to you; you taste salt on your tongue when he licks into your mouth. Your hands roam his back when he pushes in deep, flushed against you. 

"Gonna move, coriño;" he slurs into your mouth, eyes fluttering shut. "Can you take it?"

"Give it to me, Johnny."

Before Johnny, you'd never known fucking could be so intense when it's slow; just languid rolls of his hips, his mouth fixed on yours, devouring you. It's not rushed: he isn't fucking you as hard as he can. It's—

Tender. Sweet. 

Johnny fills you deep, the head of his cock nudging something inside of you that has your nails digging into his shoulders, whimpering against his mouth. The slow drag of his cock sliding out of you has your walls singing from the blunt pressure. The torturously deep thrust back in, hips jerking lazily into yours. It all pools together, an endless coil of pleasure that makes you moan, that has you panting into his ear, begging him for more. 

The equinox of it all comes when he rests his forehead back on yours, noses pushed together. There is no space between you—face to face, chest to chest—and he ruts into you like this, his eyes molten suns, nearly blinding, as they gaze at you. 

Johnny makes you melt. Makes your veins pool with liquid bliss, your core tightening with each sharp thrust against your gummy walls, and every slow drag out until only the tip remains. He hits deep, fills you completely, and it's good—it's so good —but it's this you can't get enough of. 

The way he covers your whole body with his, tucked into every corner and crevasse until all you can see and feel is him. He shares your breath; each exhale is his inhale. Eyes fixed on you; dark lashes fluttering when you tighten around him. 

These moments with Johnny make your head spin—a realm carved out where only the two of you exist; where you meld together and become one entity feasting off of the other. 

His cock, heavy and fat inside of your pussy. Your hands running along his back. His mouth sealing over yours, panting deep and ragged until all you can taste and smell is him. Until all you can see is the caramel depths that gaze at you—love in liquid; flecks of affection in gold. His pupils blown wide from pleasure, nearly eclipsing the stunning brecciated hazel. His lids lower, cresting in euphoria.

He's close—you can feel it in the way his thighs tense, his back trembles; in the sloppy way he fucks into you, mouthing along your lips. Lost in a white haze of pleasure, and too drunk on the way you tighten around him to notice. 

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades when his thrusts become choppy, harder. Legs spread wider to take him, ankles crossing over his tailbone. You melt into the sweat-slicked sheets, body liquifying with each snap of his hips. 

His chin rakes over your cheek, stubble grating against the skin. He murmurs apologies into your ear, tongue dipping out to taste the mess he made of you. 

"M'so fuckin' close, hen," he slurs into your temple, the bulk of his upper torso sliding over you. You're trapped under him, forehead pressed into the column of his throat as he bends your knees to your chest. "Fuck—!"

The light catches on the gold chain around his neck. The cross swinging like a pendulum between you. It draws your eye, and fills your chest with a deep spume of inexorable affection. Something so mundane, but so him; a little thing he always carries, keeps with him. A little piece of familiarity after months of loneliness. 

Seeing it outside of just a bittersweet dream brings tears to your eyes. 

You missed him. The heavy cedar scent, the way he kisses you like he can't get enough of the taste, how he clings to you at night, glueing himself to you in a futile effort to merge together into one being, his stupid haircut—

"Fuck," you choke, head full of nothing but him. "I missed you so much—"

"Me, too, hen," he groans into your crown, fucking deep into you. "Fuck, bonnie. I need you to cum for me. Need to feel you cumming on my cock—"

His words congeal inside your core, pleasure rippling from the base of your spine to the tips of your fingers that you bury inside his flesh. The thick heft of him makes you dizzy, makes you feel that tight coil pulling taut with each sloppy thrust he makes against it. 

His body sags into you, head burrowing into your neck. The grind of his pelvis against your clit as you spasm around him, clenching tight as he works you up toward nirvana, rutting deep, and breathing heavy into your collarbones. Glued, once more, to you. 

Johnny holds you steady, firm. His whole body cresting over yours, and keeping you locked to bed. Under him. Sheltered from harm. From the ugliness he keeps at bay. 

My hero, you once whispered to him playfully in a pub when you first met. Coy and teasing and high of the confidence that comes with a gorgeous man looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You feel it, now, nestled deep inside of your chest. Your hero, finally home. 

It's the soft chants of your name, the choked-out confessional about how much he missed you, thought of you all the way on the opposite side of the globe, and now that he has you, it feels like heaven. How you have Nirvana nestled between your soft thighs, and he can't get enough of it. Of you. He's drunk off the taste. 

It's a slow ascent with Johnny. Never rushed, never hurried. He takes you like he's savouring you, like he'll never have the chance to again. 

(On your first date, he took you hiking.

And years later, it still feels like you're climbing a mountain.)

A slow, lazy incline. A soft, feathery descent. 

"M'goin' crazy fer ya, cariño—," he pushes in deep, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. His voice is shattered, broken. The fractures in his words, the hard roll of his hips pressing down on your clit, all push you over the edge. Head full of that white pleasure that dances in front of your eyes like little galaxies in the cosmos. 

The pulse of your cunt around him makes his hips grind into yours, cock twitching as he spills himself inside of you. A low moan slips from his reddened lips, and he stifles it when he catches your mouth, sharing it with you. 

(It tastes of sugared milk and cinnamon.)

He stays like that for a moment, hips rocking against you as rides himself through, your pussy clenching around him, milking him for everything—every drop. 

Thistle heavy on your tongue, his moan nestled in your throat—it feels a bit like waking up again. A yawning crest into wakefulness. A slow roll into cognisance. 

He pants against your mouth, and you can feel the stretch of his grin—a languorous, satiated smile like the sunrise in the winter. All dark, endlessly so, and then suddenly—

Johnny feels like dusk. The first breach of the morning over the lands; a sleepy haze of light eating into the tenebrose that shrouds everything around you. A steak of ochre, gold, in a world of darkness; the varicoloured smear of pastel clouds breaking over the horizon. 

Being with him is a little bit like cupping the sun in the palm of your hand. 

His eyes slide open—a slow, shuddering roll—and you see morning dew in the whites; golden rays in the hazel. There are shadows, proof of a hard-earned victory, but he is not the type to let it linger. 

(You're not the type to let him.)

Sleepy, dazed from pleasure, he grins again. Nose pressed to yours, heart thundering against your chest. 

"M'not leavin' again for a while, now," he breathes into your lips, nose sliding across yours. He nuzzles his cheek your raw flesh, already scratched from his stubble. His voice is naked bliss when murmurs: "and I intend to stay inside this pretty cunt all day."

You huff, head listing as you let him smother your cheek and neck in affectionate kisses, nips. "You need a shower. You smell like Price. And sweat."

Teeth to your pulse. "And sex. Your sweet pussy—"

"You need a haircut."

"Thought you wanted me to grow it out."

You pretend to consider, hands sliding from his back to the nape of his neck. "I want something to pull."

"You can." 

"It's too short." 

He's shaking his head, temple knocking into your chin. "Nah, you can still pull. You can steer me later when my face is buried in your—"

"Is that why you came home?" You tease, curling a lock of his hair around your fingers. "Surely there were pretty girls in Mexico."

His head lifts. Rising suns, molten honey, meet yours. "Nah, got the prettiest hen squeezing my cock right now."

"God," you huff, walls fluttering around him with each gentle movement he makes. "You're incorrigible." 

"M'a man starved. Kept away from my girl for too long." 

His words are teasing, but his eyes—

Your breath catches, and stutters in your chest. "Johnny."

"Can't get enough of ya, hen." He confesses, words muttered into your chin. "Don't plan on lettin' you go. Ever."

"You won't ever need to." 

His smile feels like coming home. "You can bet on that."

His hand reaches under the pillow, eyes playful. "Now, about you stealin' my shirts…"

Your cheeks heat when he pulls it out. "How did that get there?"

"You're a cheeky little thing, ain't you?"

You place your hand on his chest, lashes fluttering. Coy. Kittenish. "I just miss you sometimes, is all." 

His eyes are pockets of slate, chiselled deep with a heart-wrenching affection that blisters through you. "Oh, hen."

Open, raw. He descends on you, mouth catching yours. Kissing him is always intense, always—

He pulls away. A flash of teeth. A smirk. 

"But stop taking my good ones at least."

[exhuastedpigeon]

If 9-1-1 had gone the route of Eddie coming out in the first half of s7 instead of Buck, I like to think it could have been fun it if had gone something like this from Buck's POV (Eddie's POV would have been a lot more complicated and really beautiful, but for the sake of this post I want some Buck dramatics)...

Firstly, Buck would have spent the entire episode where Eddie comes out feeling jealous and mad and confused (like 7x04 but on steroids). Like every time he sees Eddie talk to another man who isn't already in their circle Buck would try to kill that man with his mind.

He probably would have rolled up to Maddie's house and sat down at the counter, put his head in his arms, and said something like "Maddie I think I'm homophobic".

And Maddie would have been like ?????

And Buck would have lifted his head and said something about how she knows that Eddie came out and even went on a date with stupid Tommy and his stupid helicopter and they're even playing basketball together tomorrow and he knows because he saw it on the calendar on Eddie's fridge while Buck was hanging out with Chris so Eddie could go out with Tommy.

He'd spend like 5 minutes ranting about how Eddie is figuring himself out and that's great but why does Buck suddenly feel so mad about Eddie talking to other guys and kind of flirting with them? Why isn't he just happy for him? Is he homophobic??

And Maddie would have said something like "I think you're feeling a lot of confusing feelings right now because someone really important to you figured something out about himself and maybe you feel a little left out. You'll figure out what you're feeling when you're ready and then you can talk to Eddie about it."

And Buck would have looked at her with his Big Blue Eyes™ and Chim would have walked in and been like "what are we talking about" and Buck would just put his head on the counter again and Maddie would raise an eyebrow at Chim would would raise one back and then they'd both kind of smile at each other.

The next episode could have had Buck getting even more insane with his jealously and Hen pulling him aside at work to tell Buck he isn't subtle and Buck breaking down in the ambulance about how he's worried he's homophobic and she's ask why and he'd explain and she'd fight an eye roll and ask if Buck has ever felt this way before.

And Buck would talk about how he doesn't think so... well actually maybe one time in high school when this girl he really liked started hanging out with this other guy and Buck was jealous and then it would hit him like a brick in the face and Hen would pat him on the knee and tell him he can restock for her before leaving Buck with his realization.

Maybe Buck would show up at the Diaz house that night after pacing around the loft for hours and he'd knock on the door and Eddie would be like... "Buck what are you doing here it's late. Are you okay?" and Buck would ask to come in and Eddie would roll his eyes because obviously Buck can come in.

They'd go into the kitchen and Buck would look at Eddie with his Big Blue Eyes™ and Eddie would say "What's been eating at you man.. is it.. is it me?"

And that would be the moment that Buck jumped into action because Eddie can't think Buck has a problem with him being queer. He can't have that happen because Buck's only problem with Eddie being queer is that he's queer and Buck hasn't kissed him yet.

So he'd say "No! Well yes, but not what you think."

And Eddie would look all confused and his Big Brown Eyes™ would be all sad so Buck would just blurt out "I'm in love with you! I thought I was homophobic because I hated every single guy you talked to in the last three days but I'm just... I'm in love with you."

Which would lead Eddie to put his beer down and kiss Buck right there in the kitchen. And when they separate they'd lean their foreheads together and Eddie would smile all soft and say "I'm in love with you too, if you didn't get that."

[mathmodder]

Get Wild Mod by MathModder (In Progress)

What you need to know:

This mod introduces wild animals into your game map that spawn naturally in beetle spawners. It includes birds, small mammals, amphibians, more insects and reptiles in nature zones. Birds can fly and land in random locations and ground animals can be seen walking around the map.

You can choose ONE from various versions that best suit your world. Select the version that spawns specific animals suitable for your World's location.

Here's a list of potential versions that will be included in the mod:

All Wildlife (City World)*

All Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

American Wildlife (City World)*

American Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

European Wildlife (City World)*

European Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

African Wildlife (City World)*

African Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

Eastern Wildlife (City World)*

Eastern Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

*Versions for cities will have additional specific effects that help create a more beautiful environment for your city, such as planes in the sky, fireworks, sunshine rays during the day, and sky lanterns for the All Wildlife and Eastern Wildlife version. **Versions for Medieval/Country towns will feature additional specific effects to enhance the beauty of your world, including hot air balloons in the sky, sunshine rays during the day, and more.

These additional effects mentioned above will appear rarely and randomly in your world.

Can I place individual animals in specific locations, such as on rocks or tables?

In a future update after launch, this function will be added, for now they will only spawn where there is a beetle spawner. Ground animals on the ground and birds in the air.

Is the mod heavy to run?

Within the game I am optimizing it so that a small number of animals spawn at the same time and only spawn at a maximum distance of 500 meters from the player's camera.

How many files will there be?

Because there are many animals and specific animations for each one, the files will be heavy, will be a maximum of 2 to 3 files. In tests in my game with 150 other mods from other creators, I didn't see any loss of performance due to the optimization I'm doing within the game.

It is worth mentioning that some files will need to be placed in the Overrides folder and others in the Packages folder, they will all be specified at launch.

Is this mod compatible with other effect mods?

Yes, it will be compatible.

Bugs:

Depending on the location, there may be some bugs such as birds landing in the air or animals walking a little above the ground, this is due to calculation problems on certain game surfaces and physics, whether hills or mountains, but over time I will update and see What can I do to reduce this. In this case I depend on the engine the game has and whether it is possible to correct certain errors.

Release date:

Between January and February 2024 (It is in the testing phase)

Here is the list of animals that will be included in the mod:

American Eagle Bird

Anteater

Artic Tern

Aphids

Bat

Beaver

Bees

Black Bird

Black Egret

Black Fox

Black Goose

Black Rat

Blue Bird

Blue Frog

Blue Green Parrot Bird

Blue Jay

Blue Lizard

Blue Parakeet

Blue Macaw

Booby Bird

Brown Bird

Brown Bunny

Brown Egret

Brown Hen

Brown Monkey

Brown Owl Bird

Brown Pelican Bird

Brown Squirrel

Bullfinch Bird

Bullfrog

Butterflies (many colors)

Buzzard Bird

Canary

Capercaillie Female Bird

Capercaillie Male Bird

Canadian Goose

Cardinal

Carcara Bird

Charadriidae

Chimp

Chimpmunk

Chukar partridge

Condor Bird

Cormorant

Coyote

Crow

Cicada

Cockroach

Dart Frog

Dove Bird

Dragonfly

Egret

European Goldfinch

Falcon

Female Peacock Bird

Flamingo Bird

Fox

Fireflies

Golden Monkey

Golden Pheasant

Goldfinch

Gray Frog

Gray Lizard

Gray Parrot Bird

Gray Partridge

Green Bird

Green Frog

Green Lizard

Green Parakeet

Green Parrot Bird

Harlequin Duck

Hawk

Heron Bird

Hoopoe Bird

Horn Owl Bird

Humming Bird

Humming Bird Loop

Jack Rabbit

Kinkajou

Komodo Dragon

Ladybug

Lilac-breasted Roller

Little Red Parrot

Little Yellow Bird

Little Yellow Parrot

Magpie

Mallard Bird

Marmot

Marten

Male Peacock Bird

Mole

Multicolor Bird

Nude Rat

Orange Bird

Orange Fox

Orange Frog

Owl

Pangolin

Pheasant

Pink Cockatoo

Piper Bird

Possum

Pigeon

Quero-Quero Bird

Raccoon

Raven

Red-Eyed

Red Fox

Red Frog

Red Head White Cardeal

Red Lizard

Red Panda

Red Macaw

Red-crowned Crane

Rooster

Scissor White Bird

Sea Parrot Bird

Seagull

Silver Pigeon

Skunk

Snake

Sparrow

Spiny Lizard

Stork

Striped Lizard

Swallow Bird

Toco Toucan

Tortoise

Vulture Bird

White Bunny

White Cockatoo Bird

White Diving Bird

White Fox

White Goose

White Hen

White Monkey

White Owl

White Pelican Bird

White Piper Bird

White Rat

White Squirrel

White Swan

Wild Rabbit

Woodpecker

Yellow Lizard

Yellow Parakeet

Yellow Pelican Bird

Yellow Toucan

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If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I will add them to this post!