#local henrys agree

[orangedogsquad]

[latenightdaydreams]

Cowboy!König x Farmer (fem pov)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, mention of death (widow), p in v, spanking, oral

2.3k word count

Set in 1890's America

🤠

.

.

It has been exactly four months and seventeen days since your husband, Henry, passed away. The two of you decided to leave your dull city life for the excitement of the untouched wilderness. Everything had been going perfectly. In only five years the both of you were able to build a beautiful home, a big barn with animals to fill it, and enough crops to feed yourselves and sell. Success to the point of needing to hire extra hands. It was the American dream.

It’s just you and a failing farm. The work just continues to pile up and you never seem to be able to catch a break. With no other options, you set off into town looking for help. You hang fliers in the local stores and on street posts, hoping someone reliable will respond. All you can do is wait.

Only just two days later while you’re outside feeding your chickens, you see a black draft horse approaching. You place the bucket of feed on the floor, wipe your hands off on your blue jeans, and adjust your cream-colored button-down shirt before walking towards him. As you approach you notice that underneath the cowboy hat is an odd t-shirt like mask covering his face.

“I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.” You rest your hand on the pistol resting on your hip as you continue to approach him.

“Nein, no trouble, Fräulein."

His thick Austrian accent takes you by surprise. Your eyes look over his body as he gets off of his horse, taking note of how massive this man is. He looks down at you with his pale blue eyes squinting from a smile.

“I’m König,” he holds his hand out to you, “I saw your fliers in town.”

“I’m, y/n. Have you worked on a farm before?” You weakly shake his hand, your body so exhausted from hours of work and no rest.

“I grew up on one in Austria.”

You cross your arms keeping your defenses up as you two speak. There are so many questions running through your mind about his mask, but you decide to not ask. Never in your life did you think a 6’10 giant would be the one to show up.

“Well, as the post states; I can’t pay much but I can offer food and a room to compensate.”

The fact that you can’t afford to pay the standard rate to a farm hand makes you feel ashamed. There used to be three workers and now it’s only you. You can feel the heat in your face begin to build as you wait for him to reject your offer. Without him, you might not be able to keep the farm past this coming harvesting season.

“That sounds like a good deal to me, Fräulein.”

A small smile cracks at the corner of your lips as he agrees. There is a wave of relief that washes over your body. The possibility of getting the farm back to its glory days lingers in the back of your mind.

“Come with me, I’ll give you a tour.”

You turn and start with showing him the farm land before walking inside the home. It’s a two-story farmhouse, well taken care of by your husband. On the walls there are two photos; one of you and your late husband and the other of your parents. You notice König eyeing them, but he doesn’t ask about it.

Up the stairs and around to the left is the spare room. It was supposed to be a nursery, but those hopes of a family died with your husband. In the corner is a single bed and a wardrobe on the wall. It’s not a must, but it’s all you could afford.

“Here is where you’ll be sleeping.” Your eyes follow König as he walks past. His muscles are so big the ripple though the tight blue shirt he’s wearing. His thighs would be so nice to sit on. Henry was a skinny little man. You didn’t know men could be this big. “There are some house rules. No parties, no drinking yourself dumb, and please clean up after yourself.”

König places his small bag on the bed; clearly, he travels light. He nods as he looks around and then his eyes land back on you. The beautiful shade of light blue is only accentuated by the black mask covering his face.

“Ja, I promise to follow the rules. When do I start?”

“You can help me now. All of the animals are fed, but the stalls need to be cleaned out.”

“I’m on it.” König says as he walks past you. You get a whiff of his musky smell from his travels. Deep inside you feel wrong but, on the surface, you can’t help but to be aroused by the man.

You wait a moment before going outside to tend to the crops. Right now, you just need to remain focused on the farm and Henry’s vision. There is no time for men in this life.

You march down the stairs and head to the barn to grab your tools. Once you enter the door you see König with the pitchfork shoveling the animal manure, just as you asked of him. Except his shirt is now off and resting over one of the hooks on the wall. His body is glistening with sweat as his muscles flex with each movement. Trying to not get caught staring, you turn and grab what you need quickly and leave. The sound of your heart beat echoes in your ears, what is wrong with you?

The day passes until the sun begins to set. You’ve noticed that König took the liberty to go around the barn and fix things that have been broken for a while. His work ethic only makes you feel even worse for not being able to pay him more.

A few days pass, the both of you have slowly begun to build a routine. It has been nice to have him around the house, the chores no longer seem unmanageable. There hasn’t been much conversation, but you steal glances of his body everyday when he’s outside.

Today as you’re bent over planting seeds, you feel a warm hand rest on your lower back. You can feel a tingle crash over your body as you stand and turn to him. Your bodies are so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. All you want to do is rub your hand down his chest and feel his sweat on your body.

“I can finish up; you should go inside and rest.” His eyes flicker back and forth between yours causing your heart to flutter.

“No, it’s okay—”

“Bitte meine Liebe, let me finish.”

You nod slowly. His hand drifts from your back to the curve of your rear before dropping off. The look he gives you melts you completely. Thanking him once more, you walk forward and towards the house. You turn back to look at König and see his eyes following your hips before he continues working.

As you turn the corner, you realize that you forgot your jacket in the barn. You walk back and see it lying next to König’s shirt. With your jacket in hand, you look around before grabbing his shirt. Bringing it up to your face, you take a deep breath in, savoring his scent.

“Liebling, I thought I told you to get some rest.”

König’s voice causes you to jump, accidently dropping his shirt on the ground before turning around to face him. You can’t seem to find the right words to attempt to talk yourself out of this situation; it’s embarrassing.

“I’m so sorry, I know this must look—”

“Like you were smelling my shirt.” König says with a certain cheerful tone in his voice.

All you can do is nod, you’ve been caught; the thought of him quitting makes your heart drop. Words escape you; how does one apologize for this? You pick his shirt back up and hand it to him.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat in a meek tone.

König looks at you for a while before slowly approaching you. His massive hand ups the side of your face and tilts your head back for you to look directly into his eyes. A chill travels over your body.

“That’s…very naughty of you.” His voice is almost a whisper as his other arm wraps around the side of you, pressing you against his chest.

You look up with wide eyes at his response; it isn’t what you were expecting at all. Before you can say anything, his hand squeezes your soft plump ass through your jeans. He gently grinds his hips up against you, making sure you feel how aroused you make him.

“You are simply stunning, Liebling.” König growls in your ear, goosebumps travel all over.

Both of his hands move down to unbutton your shirt, every button felt like it was taking an eternity to undo. The way he looks at your bare breasts like a hungry beast causes your pussy to tingle, a rush of desire pulsing throughout your body. He gently pulls his cowboy hat off and places it on the wooden stable behind you, pulling off his mask as well.

You see a long and deep scar that travels down the right side of his face. It isn’t a turn off for you, he’s still a handsome man. With one hand you reach up and caress the right side of his face gently, König presses his face into your hand as he relishes your touch.

He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples while he unbuttons your jeans. The feeling of his wet tongue swirling around your nipple causes you to let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb back his messy blonde hair as you watch him with closed eyes enjoy your body.

The fabric of your jeans brush along your legs as he pulls them down off of your body along with your underwear. His large hands caress your legs from your calves up to your thighs. He pulls away to look at your full body; your eyes drop to his hands to see his erection straining against his jeans. Your eyes follow as he stands up, towering over your much smaller frame as his hands undo his pants. In this moment you didn’t feel like a widower or even the stress of the farm. It’s just you and König.

A tiny yelp leaves you as he lifts you up and holds you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist while he walks with you to the barn wall. His lips crash into yours in a passionate kiss. You pull him to you, deepening the kiss. He tastes strongly of tobacco and smells like sweat from working in the hot sun all day.

König pulls away from the kiss, leaving your lips wet and craving more of him. His eyes look hazy, drunk at this moment. Then you see the head of his cock press against your sopping wet pussy. His once pale blue eyes are now blackened by his pupils.

With one harsh thrust, König shoves himself inside of you. A loud moan leaves your lips as your face scrunches with pleasure. König is such a strong man that he so effortlessly holds you and moves you down on to his cock to meet his thrust.

“Y/n.” He huffs your name.

No words can even be formed as your body experiences new heights of pleasure you’ve never felt before. His cock is monstrous, bullying itself inside of you. Your short finger nails dig into and drag across his pale skin, reddened from the blistering August sun.

Animalistic groans leave König as the most pathetic mewls leave yours. His body leans against yours as he presses you harder against the barn wall, his hips bucking up rapidly like a man in heat. You feel a way of electricity as his tongue licks across the side of your neck. He covers your pulse point with his lips and begins to lightly suck.

Beads of sweat begin to drip on your body, both of you growing increasingly slippery. He gently puts you down, but quickly grabs you by the back of your neck and walks you over to a stack of hay. Not being too rough, he bends you over the stack and presses your face into the hay.

You form goosebumps across your body as he gently caresses down to your hips, grasping them firmly. His pace continues, but you feel his heavy balls slapping against your swollen clit. Your eyes flutter back as one hand reaches behind you to push his chest.

“Too much.” You whimper.

König doesn’t listen, grabbing your arms and folding it behind your back instead. He reaches for your other arm to also hold it that way, one of his hands wrapping around both of your wrist to keep them together. Your ass ripples with every merciless thrust only bringing you closer to orgasm.

You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, a low moan leaving him in response. This is just too much. The strong build up of ecstasy radiates from deep inside of your core throughout your whole body. In response to this sensation you tremble, König’s name being the only thing you can say as you cry for him over and over again.

“Can I—” König begins to ask, but before he finishes his sentence you can feel his cock begin to pulse deep inside. His heavy body leans forward and rest on you, pressing you more into the hay. He gives your marked neck soft kisses as your body takes every single drop of his cum.

[hawkinsbnbg]

moony

prompt: stuff | word count: 483 | rated: T | tags: fluff, friends to lovers | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

It was the Fourth of July again. Granted, the day didn't hold any good memories for Steve after Startcourt, but when Eddie asked to take him to the fair, he still agreed.

Because the Upside Down had been dismantled alongside Henry’s death back in 1986, and Steve had decided that 1987 would be their year.

What was better than to start making good memories together? Even if they were full of nosy teenagers and a platonic soulmate who wouldn't leave Steve alone once they learned about his huge crush on their local metalhead.

It didn't matter that Steve was being careful to not ruin his friendship with Eddie, because everyone—including Nancy and Jonathan, shockingly enough—all advised him to make his moves on Eddie as soon as possible.

But Steve had been burned too many times to not learn his lessons. That he always scared off his partners every time he got too ahead of himself.

No one would ask for a ring after only a week, and frankly, no one sane would want a house and six kids after just one month of dating him.

And since Steve was determined to not repeat his mistake, he tried to give Eddie time to get used to his… clinginess.

So far, Eddie didn't seem to mind Steve spending nearly every day hanging out with him. If anything, he always looked delighted around Steve.

That should mean something, right?

“Which ones d’ya like, Stevie?”

Startled from his daydream, he turned to stare blankly at Eddie and then the gallery gun in Eddie's hands.

“What?”

“Look at those little buddies over there,” Eddie gestured at the stuffed animals displayed behind the shooting targets board. “Why don't you take your pick, sweetheart?”

Steve gaped. This was his first time being asked that kind of question. The very move he usually brandished to make girls swoon, but never expected the day when it’d be used on him.

“Uhm,” he fumbled a bit before pointing at a white bunny in the center, “that one.”

“Cute,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve blushed, unsure which ones Eddie was referring to—him or the stuffed bunny.

Before he could become a stuttering tomato, Eddie cocked the gun and winked at him.

“Watch me, ‘kay?”

Steve nodded and did his best as Eddie's personal cheerleader.

No one remembered how many attempts it took for Eddie to get the prize. But holding Sir Fluffy—“a holy knight,” declared Eddie—in his chest, Steve was moonstruck.

Several years later, after Sir Fluffy was delegated to protect their daughter from nightmares, Steve got himself a new knight in dinosaur pajamas.

(“But I’m a dragon,” Eddie protested.

Steve, already halfway into dreamland, just snuggled up in his husband’s arms and mumbled, “G’night, Sir Edwyn the Dragon.”

Letting out an amused huff, Eddie pressed a fond kiss on his forehead, “Sweet dreams, my treasure.”

Somehow, Steve had ended up seeing a unicorn that night.)

[arcade-writing]

Little Bunny

NSFW 🍋

Pairing: William Afton x AFAB! reader

Warning: age gap (reader is a grown adult), infidelity from William, pet names, minor breeding kink, Daddy kink, William is a shitty person, manipulation(?), rough sex, boss x employee, reader is unaware William has wife and kids (they're new to town and Will makes no effort to show he's married), reader is pretty oblivious, eating out, protected penetration, desk sex, minor pervert! William, scent kink, pussy slapping, Condom breaking, Praise kink, creampie, light degradation, he starts off 'nice' and then gets mean, alot of dirty talk, minor choking, overstimulation

Hey y'all... how's it been... I haven't posted a story since uh- April 17th, 2023 ....... yeah....hello again! I genuinely had the worst writers block & honestly horny block. Even when I started getting ideas and my thirsting back on, it was just never enough to write. I always hope when I start writing again it'll mean good news for my flow but, idk. (Also P.S I'm doing art commissions so if y'all wanna check that out you can right here , if you wanna, Just reblogging even if you're not interested would be really helpful, thank you!)

This is based off my own au so timeline may make no sense compared to the games and it is a rough idea - we're here for smut not lore. So please excuse the rough wages timeline wise. Just wanna say, I do not condone cheating or really, anything William does - but if you're crushing on a fictional character that kills kids you gotta accept he's gonna be scum. And sometimes you gotta embrace it a little.

You were one of the newer hires since the business has been getting slower, one too many crimes attached to the Pizzeria's reputation. Missing kid cases connected to the business but no proof to say it had any real causality to them. Bodies never found, no camera footage, solid alibis. Nothing. But that didn’t deter people. In fact, it seemed to bring a morbid curiosity. Some wanted to feel a sense of scandal by just being in the building. It was a small town, everyone knew everyone. Hearing their family diner was the talk of the town for so many headlines was horrid luck in attracting outside locals.

Unbeknownst to you, you were Williams best employee and to him, his little bunny, he was obsessed with you. But he knew had an image as your boss and a family man to uphold; but that didn’t stop him from trying to get a slice of your attention and getting what he wanted. He was a selfish man; he tried of the perfect suburb he’s crafted for himself. Who was he to deny his interest in the new hire? Sure you were younger but that just seemed to go in his favour.

Abit thankful the town, even in their grief, were still held by the morbid curiosity and tendencies to still come. The small boom in business makes it feel like how it has to be. Even gave him a reason to finally bring their newest attraction; a new band to play now he and Henry had to practically remodel themselves to centre stage. Freddy’s little band was minor show they pulled when they couldn’t perform or either of the springlock animatronics were out of commission. But if William can still keep this damn business afloat; he can give the spotlight to his newer creations.

The kids were finally done demanding your attention; it was a slow day since it was still early morning and most kids were at school. A band of kids flagged you down and insisted on giving you a makeover. Reluctantly, you agreed and you had two little girls who put chunky plastic jewelry they won or had on you. The boys immediately tried to put face paint on you, putting messy yellow face paint around your eyes and a bit of your cheek. You were so thankful when their parents finally coaxed their children to let you get back to work.

Huffing as you headed towards the back of the diner to get to the staff bathrooms, the back was still semi in construction. Loose wires here and there, some unpainted walls. Your coworkers said before the press and the police investigation the diner was expanding it’s building but with everything that happened; it’s all been delayed. Meanwhile, William saw everything through the security cameras, watching the chunky computer flicker through footage. Spotting you head towards the back, where the cameras were still buggy, quickly heading towards his office door and opening it; just so conveniently opening the door when you walk past and spotting you. Wearing that signature grin under his scruffy beard, his smile stretching uncomfortably wide. Stretching to his eyes but his stare never matched.

“Ah- little bunny, hopping away from the job, huh?” He teased softly, knowing full well what you were doing.

At the sound of his voice, you jump as a noise of surprise slips out from you.

“No! Oh no-! I just wanted to get this face paint off!” You quickly say, not wanting my boss to think you were trying to slack off. Sheepishly gesturing to the thick yellow face paint around your eyes as your cheeks, feeling them heat up with embarrassment. You looked so stupid. He couldn't help but laugh, that was the reaction he liked – seeing you becoming sheepish around him. He can feel his smile grow wider.

“We can’t have you not look the part.” He tuts, using the still semi wet face paint on your cheek and smearing it on the tip of your nose, making a heart shape with it , his thumb now smudged with yellow as he liked the bunny-like nose he painted on you. It surprised you, eyes widening as you grew an awkward smile as you adjusted your uniform. Your trainers are scratching the back of your other leg, feeling the purple knee high socks roll down due to it. “I guess we can’t.”

“Let’s fix that then.” William patted the doorframe of his office before gesturing you to get inside, he wasn’t going to have you scurry off to the bathroom. “Come sit, little bunny, let’s sort this face paint, hm? I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this in public” He chuckled, moving out of your way so you could enter. “It’d be pretty embarrassing-“ William saw the way you squirmed at the idea of being considered an embarrassment to your own employer, deciding to give you some mercy as he finished his sentence. “-for you, wouldn’t it?”

You reluctantly agree, sighing as you walk into his office. Seeing the golden bunny plush on his shelf of memorabilia of his work. Trying to calm yourself down from your own prickling nerves, Fiddling with the wire bunny paper holder on his desk as you couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious attatched he had to to the long eared creature. His eyes followed your every move; the bunny plushie was something important to him, something sentimental; it was a plush of the golden rabbit he once dressed up as. A victory statement to himself for what he got away with; he liked having trinkets of his achievements. He closed his office door, contemplating locking it but didn’t want to get too eager. Making sure the window was covered with the mini curtain; the more privacy the better.

He guided you to sit In the plush yellow chair beyond you, grabbing some wet wipes from the drawer of his desk. “Such a soft little bunny, can I touch?” He asked playfully, crouching in front of you as he turned his attention to your face, using a wet wipe to remove the paint smear from your nose first. Your nose scrunched at the sudden feel of something wet. The smell was always too clean – some just smelt acidic. When you sat down, you didn’t expect to get somewhat pampered, you knew William could be pretty hands on as a person but you didn’t expect this. He cleaned up the rest of your face without much issue, his movements were precise and a bit rough when it comes to rubbing off the face paint on your cheeks. The thicker spots and cheap paint make it cling to your skin abit more. When satisfied with the wipe and picking up the next wipe to start on getting the yellow around your eyes off, careful to avoid poking your eyes.

Peering down as he saw you fiddling with the fabric of your shorts; one of the reasons he loved the summer time. He got to see your pretty legs on show. He had the desire to run his finger down the length of your shorts, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. But he held himself back, just as he did with the urge to pull you away from the seat right now and on top of him.

Once he pulled away you gently tried to dab away some of the dampness with your hand. Your cheeks stinging a bit from his roughness. Smoothing out your clothes to look more presentable as you hummed. “Thank you, Mr Afton.” You say, just reaching down to sort out your fallen down sock.

“It's not a problem at all, I have to make sure everyone follows uniform code.” William shrugged, throwing the crumbled wet wipes into the bucket looking pin by his desk. You were so oblivious to how obsessed he was with you. Letting him wipe your face clean and didn’t even protest. He often wondered what excuses you made up in your cute little head to not dwell on his behaviour.

His focus shifted as he watched you reach down, beating you to it as he grabbed your ankle and propped your foot on his thigh, wiggling your sock back up until it reached up just under your knee, giving you a pat with his signature grin. You knew this wasn’t very professional but he always seemed so doting; you just took it as perhaps it was just his instincts to take care of others. Unaware of the horrific things he’s done. His persona to others as this caring, sweet businessman – blaming him snapping at workings as stress and then gifts his employees with free snacks or drinks to make up for it.

“Thank you again.” You say. Nodding to your now lifted sock as you look down at him, still crouched before you.

“I already said it's no problem, being too polite can be annoying.” William stated, his words sickly sweet. As if just giving some friendly advice. Rubbing your knee as his thumb caressed it. He knew this might be inappropriate but he needed this and you were such a good little employee; you wouldn’t speak up, you were a good little bunny that does what he asks. Always trying to please the people around you and fit in as the new hire of the place.

He could still see the faint remnants of yellow face paint around your eyes that he decided to leave alone, it made your eyes pop, it made you look even more pretty. He gently grabbed back of your hand, holding the palm upright and used his index finger to draw his initials in the centre; marking you as his in a way you’d never know, his other palm was hovering over yours gently. He leaned in and made sure the blinds of the window were still shut; gently kissing your hand.

Which you, in turn, jumped at the kiss – the giggle you let out at the ticklish feel of his finger drawing on your palm cut off by the surprise you felt. Feeling the scruff of his beard on your skin as your lips part. “oh-!” Your brows scrunch, unsure how you felt about him doing that as you chewed on my bottom lip. One half enjoying the attention; enjoying to be doted on and his nice words but you knew that wasn’t what a boss should do. Glancing back over to the door; perhaps it was time you went back to work now you were all cleaned up-

His smile grew a little wider as your giggle was cut off. Seeing you glance at the door, he immediately grasped your hand with both of his, adjusting to rest on one knee as his aching legs screamed at him. "sorry, I just wanted to show my thanks, you’re such a sweet bun.” He lied so easily, quickly trying to dismiss your concerns. “That was abit forward, wasn’t it? I can be like that, how I was raised and all.” When he said how he was raised, a part of you felt a little guilty for being so quick to rush off. Assuming so poorly of his actions; not like an older man hasn’t kissed your knuckles goodbye before without ill intent.

“oh..okay.” you reluctantly accept. But you were still worried you may be enjoying his attention a little bit too much. Your stomach twisting, remembering you shouldn’t be accepting this but..it felt nice. My brows scrunched and twitched as your brain spun. It wasn’t like he wasn’t an attractive man, abit scruffy but he always seemed so cheerful and wanted to make others happy. Leaning into the plump back of the yellow office chair as my hands continued to fiddle with my work shorts. My brain screaming two different things at me it kinda just made me freeze. Go still until my brain could decide what it wanted.

William loved seeing the innocent expression in your face as he looked up at you. You seemed so helpless. You were his. The fact you were allowing this, excusing it told him all he needed to know. His mind was always the eager opportunist. How far could he really push this? His eyes falling to your ankle, the fact your foot still rests on his bent knee, you made no move to remove him or yourself. His smile turned sly as he bent closer to your foot, beginning to untie the knot of your trainer.

“It's alright, it’s okay.” He shushed softly, doing his best to come off soothing when his mind was running wild. One hand went to your thigh, pushing your hand from its continuous fidget as he smoothed his palm along until the fabric was bunched up as high as it could, exposing half of your thigh to him. His other hand taking advantage he had big hands to massage, squeeze and caress along your calf down to your ankle. “Those shoes still look new, bet they pinch.” His brow raised, giving the tip of your shoes a pinch.

“They do… sometimes.” You answer quietly, becoming a deer in the headlights at the feel of his palm against your thigh. Your heart rate immediately spiking as it thumped like a drum in your chest. Your cheeks growing warmer as you leaned completely against the chair. Hands going to the sides of the cushion, gripping into them. Unable to stop the soft sigh that escaped you at the feel of your aching calf being messaged.

He slipped your shoe off as it landed on the floor with a thud. “Poor little bun.” He tutted with mock sympathy, rubbing your ankle and the heel of your foot. Repeating the same for your other leg as he put your trainers to rest by the plush seat. Swapping hands to soothe your legs.

The scruffy man looked at your work shorts, an idea coming to mind. “Bet uniform can be such a pain at times, The summer heat must be doing you no good- they could cause chaffing, we should get you changed into a size that looks more comfortable.” He cooed a little more, trying to convince you by disguising it as concern. He knew you weren’t stupid; oblivious but not stupid. You couldn’t make decisions for yourself, He needed to do it for you.

Your breathing immediately stuttered. Your hands raised to your chest to fiddle with your own fingers. “I don’t know- I don’t think you-“ The words got caught in your throat as your eyes kept glancing at the door. Your mind was screaming to get away and not indulge but my body felt like putty when you felt your muscles relax from his caressing and firm hands. He had such lovely strong hands…you couldn’t deny you’ve thought about them before. He made machines, sure with Henry, but he obviously knew how to use them for intricate wiring and metal work. Your body was absolutely relishing this man's hands being on you.

“That’s right, you don’t think and that’s okay, let me do it for you.” He chuckled, his voice soothing but his words had some bite. A part of you made you whimper at his words; you didn’t mind the sound of that. Letting him think for you. His signature smile stretched high on his cheeks, moving your legs over his shoulders as he was still bent on one knee. Grabbing your work shorts, unbuttoning them and shuffling them down, abit awkward with how you were sitting but nothing that would deter him. You gasped as you didn’t know if you should lift your hips or just stay still. Sliding off your shorts as he hummed happily at the sight of your skin now properly exposed to his wandering eye, his tongue clicking when he saw you press your thighs together.

“Now, now, no hiding from me, I need to check if you have any chaffing.” He scolded, lying through his teeth with glee. Easily prying your thighs away from each other and forced your legs apart to ‘inspect’ your smooth skin. Grinning wider when he saw the little wet patch on your underwear, a shiver running through him. Oh you really like him.

You immediately tried to hide your face behind your hand. One hand covering your crotch to hide the shameful evidence of your arousal. Whimpering a little as your feet dug into his shoulder blades a little, your breathing getting heavier embarrassment. Trembling as you couldn’t bring myself to peek at what he was doing. Feeling as if you were in a dream; there was no way this was happening. But everything felt too real, too much it was making your nerves feel like they were being electrocuted.

“How many times will I repeat myself with you? No hiding.” His voice suddenly grew huskier, snapping at you. Firmly grasping your wrist as he shoved it away from your crotch. He wasn’t going to tolerate having to say the same thing no matter how cute you were. “Look at you, getting wet just for me…have I been a bad boss? Neglecting my sweet bunny? Does that spot need attention?”

He licked his teeth, his brows knitted from his previous annoyance but his voice dripping like honey as he looked down at you. Not wanting to wait for your response. Grinning wildly and staring directly at your hidden face. The fact he could get you this riled up and helpless in his presence excited him beyond belief. He could hear the sound of your little whimpers, sliding your underwear gently to the side to attend to that slick cunt of yours.

“there, there.” Giving your vulva a wet kiss as he shakily inhaled your scent, shuddering at finally getting to sniff it beyond finding left over clothes in your locker. Finding your panties in there was a jackpot, how angry and red his cock was after stroking it so mercilessly to your sweet scent.

Immediately, you let out a scandalised gasp. Your hands shot up and grasped the back of the plush yellow chair. Eyes wide as you shuddered, “Mr Afton-!” You squeal out as my feet kick and dig into his back as my toes curl beneath your socks.

He loved that response, that high-pitched little squeal you let out as your body became the epitome of vulnerability in his arms. He had to hold in a moan of his own, his heart feeling like it was going to explode in his chest and his cock straining in his pants.

“Shhh my little bunny, it’s okay, let me clean you up.” He shushed in a sing-song tone, using those hands to firmly press your legs still. Making sure you couldn’t squirm away. He huffed in your scent a little, giving more kisses along your wet folds, Each kiss leaving a wet smack. Letting his tongue trace along with the smallest licks, just teasing you.

You whine, back arching as your hands grasp and clutch at the back of the chair as your eyes squeezed shut tight. Your legs twitching and digging into his shoulder blades as you let out cracked whimper. “Mr Afton.. please..” you weren’t even sure what you were begging for – for him to stop and be professional? Act like it never happened. Or for him to keep going. You liked what he was doing – it’s been so long since someone’s given you attention like this, most guys only wanted their turns. Feeling the scratch of his beard on the inside of your thighs, prickling your sensitive skin.

William kept kissing and sucking gently, burying his nose into your heat as he peered up at you as he gripped your thigh and hip to keep you still. Only parting to coo more encouraging words at you. Wanting you to let go and be a good bunny. To be his. “You’re doing so, so good my little bunny.” Feeling no guilt to using his control over you as he licked a long strip up your pussy. “Let your boss take care of you, it’s what I’m here for.” He mocked sweetly.

It made your stomach flutter and twist; your eyes unable to peek, keeping them eyes shut tightly, as you sighed. Relaxing and sinking against the chair as you trembled. Your body is unable to deny how good his mouth felt. He let out a pleased hum that vibrated against your folds, his hand smoothed up your hip and pushed your button-up shirt up your stomach to keep it out of his way.

“There, that feels better, I think. Doesn’t it?” His tongue left a trail of wetness where he licked and sucked. Nuzzling his face into your pussy as he moved his head side to side, groaning as he inhaled deeply your sweet scent. He loved the sound of your whimpers, your soft little whimpers. How sensitive and responsive you are to his mouth. Groaning against your hot flesh as his other hand smoothed from your thigh, pulling your underwear more out of the way to make sure he could pamper your cunt with his kisses. His tongue prodded at your entrance as he kneeled fully, letting his nose nestle and bump against your clit.

“..yes..” you breathed out, one hand dropping from the gripping the back of the seat, your hand instinctively grasping his well kept hair. Brown and grey strands in your fist as your eyes fluttered open. Your hips bucked and squirmed with his continuous kisses and licks. Your lips falling open and unable to close them. His breath hitched at the sudden grasp of his hair, a low groan leaving his lips. “My little bunny wants more.” He hummed, his face moving to the side as he sat back a little to watch your face.

The way you bucked and squirmed, he couldn’t help but feel that satisfaction of knowing he was the one to make you do so. Seeing you grasping his hair as a sign to keep going. He knew he could hold you down and continue to pleasure you to his heart’s content. But he wanted to see how vulnerable you could become as he leaned back, his warm breath blowing over your sensitive spot. He wanted to see how far he could push you, to break you out of your shell as his eyes gazed up at you. Hastily burying his face back into your weeping cunt as he kissed up and began hungrily sucking on your clit. Feeling it throb against his tongue as it traced the letters of his name against it. Shaking his head as he did as he slurped noisily.

William pulled back for a small gulp of air, not wanting to part from your perfect cunt for too long. “How does that make you feel, sweetheart?” He teased, eyes squinting as his thumb caressed your tummy. “your boss making you feel so good, sucking on your clit like that?”

You mewl, tugging on his hair as your back arches from the constant attention to your sensitive bud. Just his breath fanning against it was making you shiver. “Yes- yes sir-“ but once those words left your mouth he tutted, shaking his head as he pulled back more. Frowning as he licked his now glossy lips. “No, no, bunny that’s not how you address the man eating out your pussy, now is it?"

“…n-no?” You stammer with confusion, already whining at the loss of his mouth. Tilting my head as I gave his hair another tug, wanting him to continue but all that did was make him slap your clit. The sting and suddenness made you jump with a yelp. A moan fluttering out your throat. Your legs squeezing at the side of his head, your knees bumping into his ear.

“No is correct.” William hummed, proud of your answer, caressing where he slapped as he raised a brow. “You should call me daddy, that sounds nicer, right? You can call me that, can’t you?” He coos, tilting his head as his nose crinkled as his smirk grew. Expectant eyes watching your every move, seeing the embarrassment grow on your face. Your lips opening and closing as you just let out a shaky breath. Slowly nodding but that earns you another slap. You let out a high pitched whine at your poor bud getting smacked.

“Use your words.” He ordered, his voice only growing firmer, this time not giving any soothing caress to the small sting. “yes…daddy” the word falls off your tongue, making your stomach twist and flutter. It felt strange but it didn’t feel wrong. Despite your hesitance he rewards it by bending back down, lavishing your sex with kisses as muffled praises left his lips.

Williams tongue was long And thick but grew a bit more slender to the tip of it. It dragged and lapped at your wetness as he groaned. His hand on your thigh, adjusting your leg on his shoulder as he kept his face pinned to your heat. The hand holding up your shirt tugging it up after unbuttoning a few of the bottom ones. Pulling the edge of the shirt towards your mouth and you bit down. Holding the shirt with your teeth as you slightly drooled against the fabric. With his hands free, his thumbs now on either side of your fluttering hole to keep you open. Grunting as he prods his tongue into you, fucking you with it as he sucks and slurps hungrily at your arousal. You gasp, shaking as your hands tug on his hair and try to pry his ravenous tongue from your sloppy cunt. It was too much- groaning deep into the fabric between your teeth as your eyes fluttered.

William plunged a finger inside you alongside his tongue. Only pulling back to speak. “don’t fucking try to stop me. You can handle it.” He immediately went back to work as your head flew back. Your legs are tightening and kicking against his shoulder blades. “I’m gonna-“ you whine, breathing as shaky as the rest of you as you squirmed. Feeling yourself dangle right at that edge as his finger hastily pumped in and out of you. Getting closer and closer – feeling so good- just as you reached right on that edge he suddenly pulled away, liicking his lips. Making you cry out in protest, eyes wide.

“Daddy- no- I was almost there!” You pleaded. Too needy to be embarrassed by the title for him as you gave another kick to his shoulder blade with the heel of your foot. He just tutted and shook his head. "No, you're only gonna cum around my cock and only then.”

Your eyes widen. Breath hitching as words caught in your throat making the shirt drop from your mouth. Unable to even try to speak as he suddenly pulled himself from in between your legs and grasped your hips, yanking you up. Bouncing you in his arms with a strained grunt as he carried you over to his desk. Grabbing what files he could and shoved it to the side – letting anything else be swiped off without care. Placing you down on the edge of the desk with a small thud. You hissed slightly at the small smack of your rear against the old hardwood. He unbuttoned your shirt at your chest, opening it up as he grinned at the sight of your chest.

“Daddy’s waited so long to play with these.” He breathed out, moving your shirt more out of the way to keep your chest exposed. Squeezing and groping at it, pressing against the perk of your nipple. Caressing it with the pad of his thumb as he hummed.

Your breathing hitches, puffing your chest more into his big hand, feeling dizzy from the way it felt like he was engulfing you. His fingers long but still thick, palm rough with work and age. You grasped his wrist as he kneaded at your chest as you glanced down and saw a prominent tent in the front of his pants. A small wet spot already formed from his own excitement.

Noticing where you were looking he used his other hand to unbuckle his pants, tugging them down to his ankles along with his boxers. Letting his cock spring free as it smacked against his yellow shirt, the sticky tip just smearing pre on it as it drooled. Twitching as your eyes were glued to it. He’s longer than any of the guys you’ve tried before, thicker too but not too much. “O-oh shit…..” You breath out with wide eyes, reaching out your hand to grasp it but he stops you. “Ah ah- no Bunny, you’ll make me cum if you do that, let me feel you cum around me first.”

You nod, and yelp at another smack to your poor throbbing clit. Covering your mouth to muffle your surprise as you panted. Removing your hand to respond as he raised an expecting brow. “Yes daddy-“ with a satisfied hum he strokes your tummy as he pushes your back more against the desk. Ready to align himself with your hole, his eyes watching the way it clenches at nothing in anticipation. Sticky with your arousal and his spit. Eager to feel exactly how good you’ll make him feel-

“Wait-! Do you have a condom?” You ask with a flurry of sense, so caught up in the whirlpool that was William and your need you almost forgot. Sure you’re already on birth control but you always preferred to be safe.

At the question, William huffed quietly. Forcing his uncomfortably wide smile back as his hand twitched. A flair of annoyance rising at your request but he wasn’t looking for any risk to this. As tempting as knocking you up sounded, he couldn’t handle another snot faced kid. Three was more than enough. Besides, he can’t let anyone find out about this. So with a nod, he walks around the desk and goes through the top draw where he spots a purple condom. You immediately felt relief upon seeing the packet; confused why your boss has it but thankful nonetheless.

Once rolled on he resumed his position between your legs as he stared down at you. Licking his teeth as his brow twitches, his smile still perked on his lips. “Now you’re gonna take daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy, fuck me!”

“Dirty bunny.” He chuckles with surprise. William lines his cock with your entrance, rubbing the tip against your clit. Tapping the head of his cock against it before dragging it down your folds. He grinned as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand to his dick and curled your fingers around it. “You want it? Then guide it in, bunny, be good for me.” You did just that, aligning it perfectly, your hips flexing as your legs adjusted at his hips and slid down on the head of his cock.

Immediately, Your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the stretch. “Oh-! You’re so fucking tight.” He thrusts a couple of times, fighting the resistance. He desperately held back the urge to cum, groaning as he slid in and out. Sawing himself into you as he worked you open with his cock. You already felt so much better than his wife. You didn’t bitch at him or refuse to let him eat you out. You didn't say no to him. And you’re so tight- squeezing his dick like you owned it. And William wasn’t a man to be owned but he could definitely get use to your pussy hugging him whenever he needed you.

His cock buried deep Inside of you as he eased in, nestling right against that certain spot. Making you let out a strained moan, eyes rolling back. “Easy, Bun, easy-“ he hushes, his stubble tickling your ear as he hunches over you. His teeth tugging on the shell of your ear as he let out a husky chuckle.

William paused in his thrusts, giving you a moment to fully adjust. Wanting you to become more needy as you squirmed. Rolling your hips as you tried to grind against him. Seeing your pathetic state, he gave you a second before he thrusts into you once again, His grip on your hips were tight. The first squeal of your wetness from his movements made him let out a rumbling groan from his throat. Pumping into you as he nodded his head. The resistance of your tightening walls growing less and less as his fingers dragged and kneaded into your hips. “Take it-take it! Fucking take it!” Skin slapping against skin, his grip on your hips as your body dug into the desk underneath you, you kept your hand to your mouth to muffle you.

Williams thrusts were getting faster now, his thighs smacking into yours as yours, your legs squeezing his hips which only pushed him closer, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, the desk creaking. Everything building together with his rugged breaths, your muffled whines. His eyes pinned you down as one hand snaked up your body to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly as his cock kissed your g-spot as he arched his back.

It all made your stomach clench, that tightening knot in your gut approaching quicker, clamping down on his cock with every stroke. “Gonna cum on my cock, bunny? Making you feel good?” he taunted, tilting his head as you desperately nodded your head. Trying to respond back to him as your voice cracked and your moans overcame any words you attempted to speak. “Cum on it, squeeze it tight, come on.”

“I’m gonna- ohh- fuck-!” you squeal, your eyes rolling as your back arched, panting as your hand tightened over your quivering lips. You could see his hair messy and no longer neatly slicked back, the part you tugged on and the sweat on his forehead ruining his hair gel made the tuffs sweep over his forehead. His brows tightly knit in concentration. “cum on my cock, little bun, go on.” He grunted, keeping up pace as his hand tightened around your neck. Just beginning to steal the air from you as your fluttering eyes remained rolled. Bucking your hips furiously as your orgasm crashed over you. Whimpering as came, and you came hard. Practically choking his dick as you did. Stars littering your voice as you whine, tugging on his wrist to let go of your neck.

With a groan he let go of your neck but his fingers twitched. Itching to do it again. He slammed his hand right by the side of your head as he kept a tight grip on your hip. His thrusts getting shaky and erratic.“Fuck, bunny I’m about to cum-“ he could feel the warm of your heat. Feeling the friction from the condom against his sensitive tip. Feeling it roll and shift, chewing on his bottom lip as you whimpered and whined.

“That’s it, Bunny, You gonna let Daddy breed you? Fuck you full of my cum, I bet you want that-“ he was cut off by you clenching around him. Groaning as he shuddered. “Ooh…Well your body definitely likes the idea.” He gleefully chuckled. Shaking his head as he kept fucking you. Chasing that high of his impending release.

You moaned louder, your hand slightly uncovered from your mouth to try and let you breathe and William sneered. Thrusting into your tight cunt brutally. “Shut up! Are that much of a slut you want the whole building to hear?” he speaks through gritted teeth, you immediately let out a whine, shaking your head. Your words are shaky as you quickly deny being a slut but he just licked his teeth. Tilting his head.

“Oh really? You're not? Why do you think you’re in this position then, huh?” He just grunts as he continues thrusting. “you’re a slutty bunny, just letting your boss undress you- letting him eat your pussy-” William groans, his sentences getting chopped as he panted. Bullying his cock into you over and over. “Letting him fuck you, this what you wanted, you let this happen – you’re a slut.” His words made you whimper, the truth stung but your mind was so foggy, lost in the haze of your pleasure, you could barely think. Just trapped being a squirming mess as he fucks you.

“Don’t whine, don’t act like it’s not true.” William scolded, sliding his hand just on your lower stomach, pressing down where his cock is inside you. “That’s my cock deep inside you, gonna deny that too?”

You shake your head. “No daddy-“ your response is immediately reward with him patting your hot cheek abit roughly as he nodded. “That’s right, can’t deny it – the sound of your wet pussy squelching and wetting my cock is more than enough evidence, isn’t it?"

“Yes daddy.” Your words came out slurred, nodding as your lips kept parting as you drooled. Eyes fluttering as you squirm and arch as your second orgasm is forced out of you as you squeal. Your feet digging right into his ass as overstimulation shocked you. Hiccupping as your poor pussy fluttered around him, each stroke of his cock against your walls made your veins spark.

That was all he needed, cursing under his sharp breath as he squirted thick ropes. Just registering how he painted your inner walls. His glues just catching the sight of his cum sticking to him and smearing on the lips of your pussy. A spark of satisfaction grew in him but also annoyance. Making sure to fuck his cum more into you as he tore his eyes away, you were too blissed out to even realize. Overstimulation already making your brain a mess. Shaking as you felt warmth flood up to your stomach.

He slowly eased out, looking down once again. “Oops-“ he says almost lazily, too riddled with euphoric high to pretend he cared. Looking at the torn condom, ripped and stretched at the thick head of his dick. His cum stitching to your cunt with a thick string. Your juices absolutely soaked him, making the rubber shine under the lights of his office. Panting as he pushes back his messy hair. “Well, this is one of those things you risk when you’re a slut, isn’t it? Accidents happen.” He tuts, having enough sense to fight off the smirk wanting to raise on his lips.

You see the broken condom and your stomach twists. For a moment you believe your heart stops as you watch him, tug off the broken condom as he throws it into the bin. Letting out a pleased hum as he grasps his dick, smearing his cum and your juices on your thigh to clean himself up. Raising his hand to suck on his finger and groans; enjoying the taste of you once again. Tugging his pants back up, he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and pulls out some crumbled cash. “Here, bunny, I should take responsibility.”

With a chuckle William puts the cash in your trembling hand, leaning down to your cheek to give it a few doting kisses. Stroking your hip as he did. You whined when he pulled away, you were completely and utterly fucked. Your hand clenching around the dollar notes as you stare up at him. Your brain was utterly turned into putty. He grabbed your underwear from the floor, wiping his cum from your sloppy cunt but he didn’t return them. Putting your underwear inside his desk drawer, with a smile.

“Let’s get you presentable, I’ll send you home early, ain’t that a win?” He teased, giving your cheek another kiss before he grabs your clothes from the floor. Helping you redress and steadied you back on your feet.

“I’m hoping this won’t be our last time, bunny, you were perfect.” He reassures, squeezing your hands as he nuzzles his nose against yours. You blinked as you nodded, heart racing as you leaned against him. On your tiptoes to reach his height with a small smile. “Really?” You ask, voice shaky and quite. William nodding as he strokes your knuckles, giving your forehead a kiss.

“Go on, Bun, hop along!” He smacks your ass as he guides you out of his office. You stumbled out and tried to make yourself more presentable as you smoothed out your uniform and fixed a few buttons. You could hear your blood rushing through your ears as you went out of the pizzeria in a daze. Your brain is unable to stop the spinning wheel of his heavy breaths. His thrusts that left you still aching. Clutching the dollars tighter as you knew where you’d be going before heading home.

[priincebutt]

How about Henry who never fell asleep with anyone else around, because he never trusted anyone and had an image to uphold, falling asleep on Alex all the time when they're hanging out (even with other people) because he feels safe. Can be canon or AU. :)

Hey anon!! Thank you for this lovely little prompt! This is a super short response, but I didn't want to drag it out because I think it works as just a silly lil domestic drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Movie night has kind of become a thing for Alex and Henry now that they have a space that’s their own. It feels domestic, like they’re allowed to have their own slice of normalcy despite everything they’ve been through. On Friday nights when most people their age are going to the clubs or hitting up dive bars, Alex and Henry curl up on their couch with a bowl of popcorn, boxes of pizza, and a bottle of wine and choose a movie out of a bowl. The movies they put in there are an amalgamation of favorites, ones that haven’t been seen, and new releases they both were anticipating, and this way they don’t fight over what to watch (which of course happened on their inaugural movie night).

This week, things look a little different. Alex is in his usual spot on the couch with Henry curled up into his side. Nora and June have commandeered the love seat across the way, their sides touching, their legs intertwined, arms slung over the arms of the chair haphazardly. Percy is in Henry’s favorite armchair, a vintage thing they found at a flea market that he had reupholstered in a cream brocade that somehow matches Percy’s overly stylish sweats. Bea occupies the final seat on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, chin balanced on her hand, elbow perched on the arm of the couch. It’s not often that the super six are all in the same city together – business keeps them all bouncing around the globe, or firmly planted across the pond, or overly worked in DC, but they always found their way back to each other eventually, and this weekend it was a trip to New York City, with Bea occupying the guest bedroom in the Brownstone, and Nora, June and Percy all staying in a local hotel close by.

“The Mummy is an integral part of the bisexual experience!” Alex had yelled in excitement when the title had been announced as their watch for tonight. “I’m so excited for you to see it, Hen, Brendan Fraser is so hot, and it takes place in Egypt, you guys are going to love it.”

June and Nora had enthusiastically agreed, and Percy and Bea and Henry all shared a look and a laugh, an understanding passing between the three of them – they love these silly Americans enough to suffer through any movie for them.

“Fine, but I still can’t believe it wasn’t Notting Hill,” Henry had harrumphed, like it was a real struggle to curl up into Alex’s side and watch a movie full of attractive actors on the screen.

Everyone settles in as the movie starts, and pizza and popcorn is passed from hand to hand. It doesn’t take long for The Mummy to capture everyone’s attention, and only a few hushed whispers are occasionally passed as Evie and Rick run from the bad guys and race to find Hamunaptra.

They don’t even get halfway through the movie when Alex notices it – Henry’s head is heavy on his shoulder, his breathing regular and his chest rising and falling slowly against Alex’s side. Alex ducks his head and peeks at Henry, and the small, satisfied smile that curls across his lips is genuine. Henry’s fast asleep on his chest, despite him being engrossed in the movie only moments before. Alex doesn’t wake him up, though, just runs his fingers through Henry’s golden hair and presses a reverent kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, then turns back to the movie. They make it a few more scenes before Nora catches on and alerts June to the snoozing Henry, which in turn gets Pez to coo at them softly and Bea to share a small, private smile with Alex.

—

Henry, an infamous insomniac, passed out across Alex’s chest and snoozing like a baby. Bea remembers how hard it used to be for Henry to sleep, how he used to fight sleep like it was giving in to weakness to lay his head down and rest. He deserves this, she thinks. He deserves someone he feels comfortable enough around to fall asleep on, in the middle of a room full of people, in the middle of a loud, action packed movie. Henry deserves Alex, who lulls him to sleep and knocks him out despite it all.

Nora and June are in the kitchen making a box of brownies they found in the pantry, and the credits are rolling when Bea conspiratorially leans in to Alex and smiles brightly.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother sleep in a public space. This is… impressive.”

“Quite,” Percy agrees in a quiet tone, his own smile telling as he looks from Bea to sleeping Henry then back over to Alex. “Henry’s always been so… strange about sleep. Didn’t want people to know he did it or something,” Percy laughs as he shakes his head.

Alex smiles sweetly down at Henry, his affection easily apparent as he brushes a lot of hair from Henry’s forehead. “This is his home, he can be comfortable here. I’m proud of that,” Alex admits quietly, not budging an inch in hopes of allowing Henry to sleep longer.

“I’m so thrilled to see him this happy,” Bea admits, her tone easy and her eyes bright. “You’re so worthy of his love, Alex.”

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

If you haven't done one all ready can you do a fic were the reader is jj's estranged brother (hes gay) and he and jj meet again because of a case we're the unsub is Killing gay people and she saves him befor the unsub can kidnap/kill him and they make up and he meets his newfew

Hiya! This was such a good idea, I hope you like it!

Warnings: unaccepting parents, mentions of serial killer killing gay people

“JJ?” You ask, frowning. You’re not completely sure, you’ve not seen her since she left for college, with you leaving two years later, when you turned eighteen.

“(Y/N)?” She pauses, taking you in. It’s been ten years since she’s last seen you. You’ve changed, you’re taller, you’re no longer the little boy who used to run around the house, who turned into the secluded teen who mostly stayed in his room. “How- how have you been?”

“I’m okay.” You said. “You?”

“I’m good.” She nods. 

“Why are you here, JJ?” You asked softly.

“I- There’s a serial killer. He’s killing gay people.” She said, deciding not to beat around the bush. “We’re canvasing local bars.”

You give a small nod and silence fills the air.

“I just… I want you to know I don’t agree with mum and dad.” She said, looking up at you - something she didn't used to have to do. “I just… had no way of contacting you when I eventually found out. And then I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to reach out.”

You look down at your hands, “I… You don’t agree with them?” 

“No, of course not.” She said, placing her hand gently on your arm. “You’re my brother. No matter what, who you like doesn’t change that.”

You give her a small smile, swallowing heavily. “Are- are mum and dad okay?”

“Yeah, they’re doing okay.” She said and you nod. “Did you want to come back to the station with me? I’d like to make sure you’re safe until we get this guy.”

“Er, yeah. Sure.” You give a nod, “It would be nice to catch up.”

“I have so much to tell you.” She gives you a smile. 

Three days later, you were sat on the jet next to your sister on the way to Virgina to meet your nephew. You had a nephew- and JJ was a mum. There was no doubt in your mind that she was an amazing mother. And the fact that she’s letting you be a part of this was almost overwhelming. 

When the jet landed, you followed JJ to her car, sliding into the passenger seat. It was a short drive to a nice house, another car parked in the driveway. You had heard all about Henry and Will on the flight over. Nerves were biting at the bottom of your stomach at the thought of meeting your nephew, and JJ’s fiancee. 

Following your sister out of the car, you let her lead the way.

“Henry?” She called out, a toddler ran around the corner, hugging JJ’s legs tightly.

“Mama!” He exclaimed.

“Hey baby,” JJ said softly, crouching down. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

You held your breath.

“This is Uncle (Y/N).”

[north-noire]

you cannot convince me otherwise that your william and henry designs are literally so pretty they’re so handsome especially in their purple and brown business suits hallelujah (i feel like an orphan holding their hand out for scraps when i ask for more drawings and dialogue of them like that) cause what do you mean im gonna have to face these men for business ventures and meetings? i have to convince them with stuff? oh they’re lowkey intimidating (cough especially henry sorry i love u tho) live laugh hidden hands 💋

Thank you so much for the lovely compliments! :D I agree that both of their presences in those suits can be quite overwhelming/overpowering in the sense that they sorta take the entire room. If you want something interesting, William was the one who bought Henry the brown suit, because Henry was just going to go in his "formal" attire (aka just him in a coat and flannel shirt combo) and William just straight up tells him: "No Henry. You are not coming to our business meetings and proposals like that." Cue fashion montage with Henry at the local mall and William buys him a suit that suited him nicely. I'm glad you like my designs for them with those outfits! </3 Here's a some memes of them in said suits for you (and everyone else!) <3 It makes me happy that you like them! (love that last quote aaaa)

[lgbtpopcult]

October 2024 wlw entertainment rundown

TV

Lucky My Love, First episode drops October 28th on YouTube

Everything Now, Netflix, October 5

The Fall of the House of Usher, October 12, 2023

Movies

Tripped Up, October 20,

Books, Games, Music etc.

In A World Of Our Own: Chasing Dreams And Love

Sophia Miller, an openly lesbian supermodel, enjoys her solitary life in the bustling heart of New York City. But when her gay millionaire best friend, Chris Anderson, requests her to play his pretend girlfriend for a family gathering in Texas, she can't refuse. After all, Chris is on the brink of becoming the CEO of the billion-dollar Anderson Corp.

Enter Alissa Anderson, the Oxford and Cambridge-educated, closeted lesbian daughter of the conservative and formidable Henry Anderson. With the CEO position at Anderson Corp now up for grabs, Alissa finds herself in a fierce rivalry with her own brother. Ascending to the top of the family business and shattering traditional gender roles has always been her ultimate dream. However, her well-laid plans begin to unravel when she encounters her brother's "girlfriend" at a pivotal family gathering on their Texas ranch.

When Sophia and Alissa's worlds collide at the Anderson estate, everything is on the line: the coveted CEO position, concealed sexual identities, a sham relationship, and a burgeoning real one that threatens to bloom amidst the chaos.

“Sushi for Empress Setsuko” is a cozy and comedic point & click adventure game and yuri dating sim set in a fantastical Japan-inspired land. Follow Mizumi Nagashima as she travels around the Empire, seeing gorgeous views, catching delicious fish, and charming beautiful women.

RELEASE DATE:

3 Oct, 2023

Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

A fake relationship after a horrible one-night stand is anything but an act in this witty and heartfelt new romantic comedy by Ashley Herring Blake.

Everyone around Iris Kelly is in love. Her best friends are all coupled up, her siblings have partners that are perfect for them, and her parents are still blissfully married. And she’s happy for all of them, truly. Iris doesn’t want any of that—dating, love, romance. She’ll stick to her commitment-free hookups, thanks very much, except no one in her life will just let her be. Everyone wants to see her settled down, but she holds firmly to her no dating rule. There’s only one problem—Iris is a romance author facing an imminent deadline for her second book, and she’s completely out of ideas.

Perfectly happy to ignore her problems as per usual, Iris goes to a bar in Portland and meets a sexy stranger, Stefania, and a night of dancing and making out turns into the worst one-night stand Iris has had in her life. To get her mind off everything, Iris tries out for the lead role in a local play, a queer retelling of Much Ado About Nothing, but comes face-to-face with Stefania, whose real name turns out to be Stevie. Desperate to save face in front of her friends, Stevie asks Iris to play along as her girlfriend. Iris is shocked, but when she realizes the arrangement might provide her with some much-needed romantic content for her book, she agrees. As the two women play the part of a happy couple, lines start to blur, and they’re left wondering who will make the real first move....

Moonlight in Garland is a cozy open-ended life-sim video game that sees you making a new life in the bustling metropolis of Garland. Find an apartment and make it perfectly yours, befriend your neighbours, grow your urban garden, solve community problems and experience all the weirdly wonderful stuff that city living offers.

Of course, city life isn’t all farmers markets and fancy coffee. Will you step in to stop the heritage building from being torn down and preserve a piece of history? Look after the neighbourhood so more residents stick around? Figure out which jerk is stealing packages from the mail room? Be swept up in a whirlwind romance along the way?

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Spencer Reid SFW | Fluff

To return to the S.R. SFW Masterlist, please click here. If you’re looking for my S.R. NSFW Masterlist, look here. If you're looking for my CM PolyAm Masterlist, look here. If you’re looking for Other MGG Characters, look here. If you’re looking for my Works in Progress, look here.

Works are separated by genre and gender of the Reader. Gender Neutral means that no gender identifiers are used.

Bedtime Stories on the Jet: Spencer and you share the jet couch.

Drunk Dial: It’s been years since Reader talked to Spencer, but after a bunch of drinks it seems like a really good idea.

Appalachian: Reader is tired of Spencer purposefully pushing their buttons and demands an explanation.

Play Dates: Reader finds out Spencer hasn’t had enough dates to play Best/Worst Date with the team and offers several Play Dates, but quickly realizes it’s hard to have a bad date with Spencer Reid.

It’s Personal: Reader reminds Spencer’s team that it’s never appropriate to ask someone for their age, even if they’re dating their coworker.

Style Theory: Fashion student Reader meets their favorite scholar and teaches him a lesson in self-love.

Quid Pro Quo: Spencer is entranced by the law student in his class.

Pipsqueak: The only thing shorter than Reader is their patience.

Fragile: Disabled!Reader. Spencer has to stay behind on a case and gets to know the new technical analyst.

The Perfect Plan: Reader has a question for Spencer, but things don’t go according to plan.

Kitten Love: Spencer’s vet begrudgingly agrees to an emergency house call.

Pair of Aces: This Pride month, Reader decides to share something with the team.

Battle of the Houses: Reid accidentally gets trapped in a Hogwarts House War with Reader, Jack, and Henry.

Like Father, Like You: Child!Reader. Platonic. In which Spencer’s child comes out as not-straight.

More fics below!

Astraphobia: SSA Reader and Spencer share their most embarrassing fears.

What Goes Up: Spencer breaks the Magician’s code for a very adorable exception.

Different Dialects: Autistic!Reader. Spencer is trying to tell Reader he likes her, but it feels like they speak entirely different languages.

Impromptu: Reader learns some shocking news when a case lands her in the hospital.

Soulmates: Spencer comes to a conclusion during a late night with Reader.

Intentions: Spencer’s teenage daughter wants to have a conversation with you about your intentions with her father.

Studious Shadow: Reader’s crush won’t stop avoiding her at work and she thinks he might hate her.

Painting by Numbers: Spencer is still a little worried about his pregnant wife painting the house.

The Prodigy Path: At a parent teacher conference, Spencer and Reader explain their seemingly unorthodox parenting style.

Fairytales: Spencer comes home to his very tired wife and even more tired child who refused to go to bed without a bedtime story from their dad.

Stranger Danger: Reader is a single mother having a very bad day.

Fever Dream: Reader makes an accidental confession, which starts the most intense game of hide and seek.

Defining Family: Spencer finds out he’s a dad… to a twelve year old girl. Your twelve year old girl, who just broke into the FBI.

Devil’s Advocate: Spencer’s been hooking up with the defense attorney in secret. At some point what was purely physical turned into something else.

Honeysuckle Hair: Spencer has some words to say about Reader’s curly hair.

Four in Hand: Spencer needs help with his tie.

Funny Thing Fate: Autistic!Reader is tipsy and lost in D.C. when she spots a man she thinks might be able to help.

Java Jive: Spencer and Emily take a break at the local coffee shop and she makes an understandable mistake about barista Reader and Spencer’s relationship.

Mister Spencer: Reader has a crush on her child’s teacher.

Comme des Garçons: Reader chooses an interesting way to finally confess to dating Spencer.

Pumpkin: Spencer can’t handle how cute Reader’s southern accent is.

Practice Run: Spencer and Reader take on Derek’s challenge to babysit.

Dead Air: Professor Reid is hesitant to be a guest on his old student’s true crime video series, but is surprised to find it’s not so bad.

Serendipitous: Spencer’s pretty sure Penelope mixed up his blind date.

Maddening One, My Goddess: Spencer has a one night stand… on February 13th. The next day, he is confronted with a familiar face on his pre-planned double date.

Growing Pains: Spencer finds unfamiliar lingerie in the laundry. When he confronts his wife, he learns it belongs to their teenage daughter.

Bi the Way: Morgan learns something very interesting about Reid after he leaves his bag at his significant other’s house.

Pretty Boy: Spencer thinks you’re just the bully who likes to pull his pigtails.

Happy Hydrangea: TransMan!Reader. JJ is corrected in finding out Spencer has had a boyfriend for a while now.

Off the Top: TransMan!Reader.Spencer is driving his boyfriend crazy after his top surgery.

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

And now here is Day 6 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs!!! @zaharadessert specializes in turning the angst up to about a 12, but the payoff she gives makes all the pain to get there sooooo worth it!!! So here are my very favorites of her fics!!

Get Your Motor Running - Rated E - Emma Nolan is driving home to Storybrooke having finished college, when her car breaks down. With no cell service the only thing in walking distance is the local biker bar…

Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Rated E - Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.

The Halloween Gambit - Rated M - Bar wench and orphan, Emma Swan is taken captive to lure Captain Hook to the noose. Things don't turn out as her captors expect.

The Heart of the Savior - Rated E -

One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance. 

For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.

A Dream of Home - Rated E - Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Fallen Angel - Rated M - Forced into a marriage she didn’t want with a man she didn’t love when her parents died, Emma Nolan did everything she could to make the best of it. But when he died, leaving her with an infant son, she realised the depths of his disregard for her and the sanctity of their marriage. Not only was he a gambler, he spent his winnings on his mistresses and left his young wife and with enough debt that she ended up in a workhouse. A workhouse which, like everything she used to own, has just been sold, and the new owner is coming by to survey his new purchase.

I Did Right series - Rated E -

chaos reigned supreme in Central Park yesterday, when the Mayor’s foster son was kidnapped in broad daylight under the supposedly watchful eye of hired staff. The mayor’s office has yet to make an official statement…

When Henry is kidnapped while Regina should have been taking care of him Emma is furious and resolves to do whatever it takes to get her son back. But will the CARD Agent sent by the FBI to help handle the case be more of a distraction than a help, or can he manage to be just enough of both to make this work?

All of Zahara's fics are fantastic, but these are my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!! See you tomorrow for Day 7!!!

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days - Part Seven

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six or Read on AO3

The day that Henry waltzes back into Shawn’s life starts out normal enough. 

It’s a Tuesday. The sun is out, the local smoothie place on the corner of 118th has finally brought back its mango tango tropical blend --containing absolutely mouth tingling amounts of pineapple, and Gus even manages to get the cute smoothie girls number while they wait for their drinks. 

“You hear about Pluto? That's messed up,” Gus says, leaning against the counter as he hands her a ten. Her head tilts slightly, eyebrow raised, her sharp green eyes sweep over Gus as a smile blooms over her freckled face. 

Oh shit, she's going to eat him alive.

“I hadn't, you'll have to tell me sometime,” the cashier says with a wink that pulls a strangled laugh out of his best friend.

They leave with their drinks, Gus's cup adorned with a sharpie phone number and a smiley face across the plastic. The bounce in Gus’s step makes Shawn grin as he watches him read the number again and again.

“Can an area code be cute?” Gus asks as they turn down the street to the department, passing uniformed officers leaving for patrol.

“Depends on the number of eights, also fours, very sexy numbers Gus,” Shawn says sagely, fighting to keep his face neutral as Gus glares openly at him.

“Please,” Gus huffs as they climb the stone steps up to the precinct, “you are just jealous that my Pluto line pulled”.

One of the rookies, officer Miller? Mayer? Some kind of M name, Shawn thinks as the officer stops to hold the door for the pair of them to enter the building. 

The rookie flashes Shawn a smile as he waves them in and Shawn can't help but smile back. Maybe Gus wouldn't be the only one getting a number today.

“It was bound to happen Gus,” Shawn insists as they turn down the hall towards the bullpen, “the intersection of women that are single, into astrology, and a little crazy is small but you were eventually gonna find it buddy”.

Gus sputters around the straw of his smoothie, “there is a huge difference between astrology and astronomy Shawn--”

“Are we talking horoscopes?” Juliet asks with a curious smile as she falls into step beside them, carrying a file folder and a mug of coffee in the other hand as they make their way to the desks. Shawn grins as Gus swallows nervously. 

He likes Juliet.

She's sincere and chipper but there's an edge to her that Shawn can't quite pinpoint where the line is. It also helps that she has enough patience to balance out her partner who has not been subtle about his distaste for Shawn.

Plus, Gus is completely smitten with her.

Juliet is probably the only woman who has laughed at, objectively, every single one of Gus's jokes since they started working together --which is a feat in and of itself. Shawn watches as Gus lifts his hand to rub at the back of his neck, stammering through the account of his interaction at the smoothie place with the counter girl.

Shawn sees the way Juliet deflates slightly, her eyes darting between Gus and the number on the smoothie cup. He shakes his head at the open display of pining. 

It would almost be amusing if Shawn didn't have to hear about how amazing, and funny, and cute, and scary Juliet is every other night from Gus and why someone like her could never go for someone like him --which is bullshit.

Anyone would be lucky to have someone like Gus on their team, and Shawn will champion that argument until the day he dies. 

Besides, if he isn't mistaken, Juliet agrees with his sentiment.

“It just seems so disrespectful to remove its status as a planet after all this time,” Gus sighs, trailing off from his planetary rant.

Juliet nods, “not just to Pluto but to all of us that had to repeat ‘Men Very Easily Make Jugs Serve Useful Needs, Perhaps,’ and not have all the boys in class giggle at the word ‘Jugs’”.

“You get it,” Gus exclaims, elbowing Shawn as he tries in vain to stifle a snicker.

It's not Shawn’s fault that ‘Jugs’ is comedy gold, he doesn't make the rules.

Shawn lets his attention wander from the pair slightly, taking in the neat stacks of paperwork on Juliet’s and Lassiter’s desks, wondering just what cases he might be able to snoop on in preparation for his psychic showcase later, and speaking of the Head Detective it’s a little odd that he isn't in yet. 

Shawn looks at the clock on the wall, it’s nearly 9:30, well past when good ol’ Lassie normally arrives. 

“Boy this place hasn't changed a bit”.

Shawn stills as he registers the voice from across the bullpen.

Oh no.

No, no, no, he's been so fucking careful.

“How long are you sticking around for Detective?” Lassiter's voice floats across the space behind them, “I can show you the new evidence room if you have time?” 

Shawn slowly turns, holding his breath, to see Lassiter walking and talking, hitching his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the evidence room, with Henry Spencer.

Fuck.

Henry looks very nearly the same, maybe a little thinner than he was the day he left Shawn at the station, definitely more grey and less hair than there had been. The collar on his polo is warped slightly, as though it had been left to air dry on a rack, and the brown leather shoes he's wearing are dull, scuffed at the sides. 

The Henry Spencer who diligently ironed his clothes and shined his shoes every day has seemingly evaporated in the last ten years, replaced with some laid-back facsimile.

Shawn had heard that Henry had retired from Gus, who had heard it from his mother, around the same time that he was supposed to have left Santa Barbara.

Shawn looks closer, taking in the same cool blue eyes, piercing and sharp as he surveys the precinct. 

His dad must just miss his old haunt, the station that was his second home for nearly forty years, that has to be it. 

Henry isn't here for Shawn, he can't be.

But…there was that god damn article he and Gus were mentioned in after the McCallum case. 

Shit.

Shawn closes his eyes and breathes in to try and slow the icy panic sliding up his spine, like he's been dropped off the edge of the pier in January.

He stills again as Henry responds to the Detective, clapping him on the arm with a relaxed grin.

“Nah, I'm in and out Lassiter, just checking in with the old guard on our poker night, you know how it is”. 

Shawn slowly ducks himself behind Gus, as Henry shifts his stance to the Chief's closed office door.

He hasn't seen Henry since that awful night ten years ago, and the thought of seeing his dad here now, of being exposed as a fraud, a liar, a--

Shawn shuts his eyes, and shakes his head as though to erase the thought.

He doesn't need Henry ruining this for him, not when things are finally, finally working for once. He needs to get out of here.

“Gus,” Shawn hisses sharply, interrupting his friend mid sentence, he tucks his head further down, keeping himself angled away from where Henry and Lassiter are still talking. 

Palling around like old chums, god of course they are. Why wouldn't Henry love someone like Lassiter, the complete opposite end of the spectrum where Shawn is concerned. 

“Shawn what?” Gus tries but Shawn flaps both hands out, cutting him off again. 

Juliet frowns at the display, though there is a hint of concern in her gaze as her eyes follow the direction from which he is obviously hiding, landing on Lassiter who is still chatting with his dad.

Everything feels off balance, like he missed a step on the stairs but then the rest of them have given way to let him drop.

“Gus, Henry is here and I need to not be,” Shawn says lowly, “I need a distraction or a miracle, preferably both if you can swing it”.

“Shawn--”

“What kind of distraction?”

Juliet and Gus say at the same time and, hell yes, Shawn knew he liked her for a reason.

“And with zero rehearsal? I am so proud of you two,” Shawn whispers to them, ignoring the way his heart is threatening to jack hammer its way out of his chest.

He clears his throat roughly, swallowing once, “I just need something big enough to get me into the kitchen without being seen?” 

“On it,” Juliet affirms, taking a step towards her desk to drop off the file from one hand, while the coffee cup remains in the other.

She takes a small step away before pausing and turning back to the pair of them, “hold on, this isn't for anything illegal or to do with a case is it?” she asks warily, glancing between Shawn and Gus.

“No,” Gus and Shawn say at the same time.

Juliet nods once and takes off towards Lassiter and Henry with long determined strides.

“Wow,” Gus sighs, hearts in his eyes and Shawn shakes his head at the sight.

God these two.

He breathes out, long and slow, before startling slightly at the commotion behind them. Shawn hazards a glance at Juliet to find her profusely apologizing to Henry for the large brown coffee stain all over his polo while Lassiter watches with a stunned expression on his rapidly reddening face. 

Ho-ly shit, if Gus doesn't lock this girl down, Shawn might have to. They'll have a summer wedding, Shawn thinks a little hysterically as he takes the opportunity to bolt, speed walking to the department kitchen, Gus hot on his heels.

They round the corner out of the bullpen and head down the hall towards the staff kitchen, nearly crashing into Buzz on their way through the narrow door.

“Sorry man,” Gus winces as Buzz just manages to stop coffee from flowing over the side of the cup in his hand as he makes way for them.

“All good, is Shawn okay?” Buzz asks, concern in his voice and expression as he peers back into the kitchen.

Shawn says nothing, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes copper on his tongue. He breathes out again, long and slow, before taking a short sharp breath in, just like Mrs. Guster taught him. 

“He's fine,” Gus says quickly, “I could smell the fresh pot from the pen so we wanted to jump on that before anyone else”.

Buzz tilts his head at Gus quizzically, “oh that stuff’s old actually, probably from the shift change I think”.

“And that's what…you're drinking?” Gus says slowly, staring at the young officer who beams at the pair of them.

“I know it's not everyone's taste but I love the last cup,” Buzz smiles before taking a long sip from the chipped mug in his hand, “not too hot, plenty bitter and strong, it's great.”

Shawn breathes out a laugh this time as his heart rate finally begins to slow to a more normal pace.

“We'll take your word for it,” Shawn says, rubbing his hand through his hair before reaching for the electric kettle next to the empty coffee pot. It's full of water still, and based on the fresh droplets on the counter, someone filled it recently.

“Glad you're okay Shawn, you'll have to head back soon, apparently we have a visitor that Detective Lassiter is showing around--”

“Thanks Buzz, we'll try,” Gus interrupts smoothly, he's smiling but it's just a little too wide.

Shawn flicks the switch on for the kettle and turns to slump against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buzz shrugs and gives them a little salute with his mug before turning on his heel to head back to his desk. 

Gus waits a beat before whirling around to Shawn, eyes wide, “why the hell is Henry here?” 

“Why do dolphins tease pufferfish Gus?”

“Because they like to get high?”

“Because they do whatever the hell they want and how should I know how a dolphin thinks,” Shawn bites out as the kettle bubbles and spits behind him.

“I thought he moved away,” Shawn says eventually, chewing on the corner of his lip, “guess he came back”.

Gus grimaces, peeking around the corner of the kitchen for a moment before turning back to Shawn.

“Make me a cup too,” he sighs, reaching a hand up to pinch into his eyes, “you're gonna owe Juliet big time for this, I don't think I've ever seen Lassiter turn that shade of red before”.

“Hey, he should be grateful she spilled on the right asshole,” Shawn mutters as the kettle clicks off automatically. He turns around and reaches for the overhead cupboards to grab two mugs from the shelf.

“Well, your vocabulary hasn't changed much, has it kid?”

Shawn nearly drops both mugs at the sound of his father's voice behind him and the quiet curse Gus blurts out.

Shawn doesn't turn around, keeping his shoulders level as he sets the mugs down and reaches for a random box of tea bags on the counter, looks like Gus will have to settle for green tea this time as much as he hates it. 

“You’d be surprised,” Shawn manages after a long beat of strained silence.

Henry hums, “What, you're not gonna say hello to your old man?”

Shawn bristles, hating the way he can feel his ears begin to heat. He grips the counter to halt the furious tremor in one hand while the other crushes a still wrapped tea bag.

“Detective Spencer did you find--”

Oh good. Lassie is here now too, Shawn thinks viciously.

“I know where the kitchen is Lassiter,” Henry sighs, “I did work here after all”.

“Mr. Spencer,” Gus says, cutting through the strange tension that has begun to spread through the little kitchen, “it's been a while”.

“Burton, yeah it has, how's your mother?”

“My mother?” Gus repeats, confusion in his voice, “she's uh, she's great--”

“I'll bet,” Henry interrupts, “she's certainly something your mother, definitely had a lot to say to me over the years, that's for sure”.

Shawn falters slightly, has Henry been keeping tabs on him this whole time though Mrs. Guster? 

He swallows roughly, still facing the cupboard. Shawn tries to unclench his fist but it won't budge, the paper around the teabag has grown damp now from the sweat on his hand and he can feel the cheap ink from the label rubbing into his palm.

Lassiter clears his throat awkwardly, “uh, Detective, Sargent Bart is ready if you still wanted to meet”.

Henry sighs behind him, Shawn can hear the shift in his stance as he turns back to Gus.

“Well, at least one of you is polite, but you always were a good kid Burton”.

Shawn feels his hackles raise at the same time Lassiter clears his throat again.

“Fine,” Henry says in a clipped, disappointed voice, “Shawn, if you want to talk, you know where to find me”. 

Shawn hears Henry walk away, his shoes scuffing against the floor heading further and further down the hall, and let's his head slowly fall until it connects with the cupboard. 

He lifts his head, just enough to drop it again, connecting with the cupboard door with a muffled thunk before he straightens up, shakes out his shoulders and finally drops the unusable teabag on the counter.

“Guster, what's got your partner so worked up, is being confronted with a real detective just that upsetting?” Lassiter asks as Shawn finally turns around. 

He's still standing next to Gus, his blue eyes tracing over Shawn as though scanning him, smirking slightly.

“Upsetting?” Shawn laughs, but it sounds fake, hollow, “Lassie, Lassie, Lassie, I'm touched you think I'm capable of that kind of emotional intelligence, it’s, well, it's an honour Detective”.

Gus sighs, shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest as Lassiter rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Then what the hell is your problem, he's your dad isn't he?

“Lassiter--” Gus tries but Shawn beats him to it.

“You really don't remember huh?” Shawn says incredulously, “the first night we met?”

Lassiter tilts his head, blue eyes narrow as he stares at Shawn, “the first? Spencer, that was a few weeks ago?”

Right. 

Shawn had been pretty certain that the Detective didn't remember being there the night Shawn was arrested, and this just confirmed the theory.

He's pretty sure Vick remembers just based on the look in her eyes when she reminded Shawn she had no problem with booking him if he were lying about the psychic thing, she'd processed him before and would do it again to protect the department.

But, it looks like she hasn’t said much of anything to the other Detectives, not about Henry dropping him off or the call he had made to the Gusters while standing behind him, most certainly eavesdropping.

Which should be a relief.

It's not like he’s enthusiastic about people knowing the details of that awful night.

A brief flash of Lassiter’s expression, pained and sympathetic, as he walks up to Shawn in the hallway to ask if he's okay, flashes once before dissipating.

It's…it's good he doesn't remember. 

He doesn't need Lassiter looking at him with anything other than irritation or anger in his very, very, blue eyes--

No. 

That is one thought he'd rather not examine too closely --especially not now with Lassie standing in front of him with his annoyingly observant glare.

Shawn sighs sharply, lifting his hand to pinch his nose before dropping it limply at his side.

“You know what, why don't you run along Lassie, I'm sure there's a boy stuck in a well somewhere that would love your help”. 

Lassiter blinks once, twice, Shawn can see the cogs turning in his head as he moves away from the counter, making his way past the Detective. 

It's the same jab he'd used over ten years ago.

Why the fuck did he say that? 

Shawn halts as he feels Lassiter grab his arm loosely at the elbow, but doesn't turn around.

“Better yet,” Shawn says loudly, the words come out smoothly but at a higher pitch than normal, and Shawn can feel both Gus and Lassiter staring at him.

“Shawn--” Gus tries but Shawn starts moving, pulling his arm from Lassiter's hand with a quick tug.

“You could continue sniffing around Henry,” Shawn calls over his shoulder, “he never wanted a pet when I was growing up but I think he'll just love you”.

He moves a little quicker down the hallway before veering right into another hall.

There are footsteps behind Shawn keeping pace. He steals a quick glance behind him, breathing out a bark of laughter as he meets Gus's harried glare.

“I can't believe you,” Gus hisses as they speed walk their way to the start of the row of individual offices, “I can't believe he didn't murder you right then and there, it's not like you wouldn't have deserved it”.

“I resent that baseless accusation,” Shawn huffs as he continues walking.

“You called him a dog twice--”

“That's the third time technically,” he admits lightly, ignoring the way Gus curses under his breath as they finally reach the foyer.

“Gus, it's fine, we'll leave it for a few days, let Lassie cool down,” Shawn huffs as they pass several uniformed officers heading back into the station.

Maybe if they wait long enough what he had inadvertently let slip to Lassiter will have blown over and Henry will have gotten the hint that Shawn has no interest in speaking to him.

“We wait till they call us, ya know?” He says as they push open the heavy entrance door and the hot afternoon sun hits their faces.

“I'm sure it's already forgotten by now”.

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf @newgrangespirals @riverofrainbows @steddierthings @eriquin @newgrangespirals

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

More Bendy and the ink machine g/t & noms :D

FOR VORE DAY!! HAPPY AUGUST 8!!

TW: safe/soft vore (Don't like it, don't watch)

This time Henry decided to eat Thomas out of nowhere. He didn't agree at all

Tags

@local-squishmallow

[traintrainingmontage]

Assorted Character Headcanons: 8-11

Duck:

Duck may have given up his dreams of going out to sea, but he really enjoys the salty spray and sea breeze. Several lines along the GWR went along the coast, and it makes him nostalgic. Arlesburgh is one of his favorite places to be because of it; he finds the hustle and bustle of the harbor to be delightful. When he just wants a moment to think, he'll find a good spot to park himself overlooking the water.

Donald:

Donald is blessed with the ability to both hum and hold a tune. He can be heard singing up and down the line in his distinctive Scottish accent, and everyone who hears him can't help but smile. He knows several Scottish songs (and he has his favorites) but seems to have also picked up some Irish songs, notably of the sea shanty and drinking song variety, likely from visitors who take the local boat service from Kirk Ronan to Dublin and vice versa.

Douglas:

Douglas has always been a rather superstitious sort. He's long believed that it wasn't just luck that allowed him to escape with his brother to Sodor, and given Scotland's own array of tales about ghosts, spirits, and fey, he's rather careful when it comes to showing proper respect. Maybe that's why his safety record is significantly better than anyone else's on the Little Western.

Oliver:

Once Oliver settled into his work on the Arlesburgh branch (and after his mishaps), he found that he wasn't really sure what to do with himself. His reality for the past several weeks had been endless fear and worry as he tried to escape and scavenge what he could, followed by several more weeks of trying to fit in and prove himself and the consequences thereof. Now that things have settled, though, he feels somewhat lost, like he's not sure what to do or feel, and he still has nightmares from his experiences. Duck, Donald, and Douglas all help him out during this time, but it's actually Donald who gives him the idea that works: get to know people. Talk to them. Become friends with people on the island; it's the best thing they can recommend for making a new place become home. So Oliver does, and he really starts bonding with the island's residents. Making new acquaintences helps, but he still doesn't feel all together yet.

One day, in the late 1970s, he meets a young psychologist named Christine. She's visiting from London, and had taken a great interest in sapient engines. After learning the gist of his story, she asks if she could speak to him at length once the workday is over, and Oliver agrees and receives permission to do so. After the interview, she reveals that she's currently studying cognitive behavioral therapy. She explains what that is, how it might help Oliver, and that she would love to see if the same principles could be applied to the mental health of engines. Naturally, Oliver and his crew are wary of anything "mental health" related, but once Christine phrases it as mental exercises to try and help Oliver have a better quality of life and ease his nightmares, they're more receptive. Once again with Sir Topham Hatt's permission, Christine goes on leave from her work in London to stay long-term on Sodor. Her work with Oliver would prove instrumental in advancing mental health on the island, for both engines and humans, and Oliver himself would become a mental health advocate among the engines of the NWR.

(Headcanons for Thomas, Edward, Henry, and Gordon are here!)

(Headcanons for James, Percy, Toby, and Emily are here!)

[weirdowithaquill]

The Importance of Names in the Railway Series

It's been a hot minute since my last take on the world of Thomas & Friends - so here's one that has sort of been wandering about in the back of my mind for a while.

How important is a name to an engine? Cause we know the engines do put a lot of value into a name. Stepney and Edward say as such:

"[...] I think our Controller was right. All engines ought to have names." "Yes," agreed Edward, "it's most important."

And it's further reinforced by Bear later in the series:

"It's nicer than just having a number," he (Bear) says. "Having a name means that you really belong."

Donald and Douglas echo this by giving themselves names (partially to fool the Fat Controller) and the interesting thing is that Sir Charles actually uses their names almost exclusively from that moment on - unless referring to them by their new numbers.

Even BoCo gives himself a name! And it feels pretty on-the-spot too, seeing as he just goes "but you can call me BoCo".

But in contrast, every single rail-based 'villain' or 'antagonist' in the Railway Series only has a number, or is Diesel, who doesn't really have a name either. Check me! There's:

Diesel

The 'Big City Engine'

Class 40 (D261/D471)

D199

D40125

None of them have names - not even 'the Big City Engine'. They're given nicknames by the engines, but otherwise they are just numbers. And I think it runs a bit deeper than that. A little while back I did a post on the 'railway rulebook' - and something I said was that managers did everything in their power to both dehumanise the engines and make the engines loyal to them. What better way of doing that than only giving certain engines names? 'Flying Scotsman' gets a name because he's a prestigious express engine, but the engine who shunts his coaches? The goods engine who brought his coal? Why would management give them names - to do that is to undermine the class system they've built to keep the engines fighting amongst themselves. If the engines are on equal footing, then they'd want equal rights.

You know... this sounds a lot like the Communist Manifesto. I don't think the Rev. W. Awdry intended it that way, but it does.

But that's beside my point. Certain railways either don't want their engines to have names. In particular, I would point at the LMS and the LNER, which both had a massive roster of engines. Not only is recording all their names a pain, but it would also add a sense of individuality to them and muck up their spreadsheets. In most countries, people have an ID number for identification - and that's what these companies needed. Not names; numbers.

The GWR is a notable exception to this, and I think people have noticed that. Both Duck and Oliver arrive with names, and Sir Topham I was a Swindon-apprentice who would have grown up with GWR ideology. Edward got his name because he was built as an express engine, Henry and Gordon for the same reasons - and everyone else either gives themselves names or have names given to them.

Toby probably got his from his crew and the locals after decades of being in the same area - I mean, he literally runs into their town, of course they have a name for him. Percy is given his by Sir Topham, and we can infer Thomas and James got similar treatment. Donald and Douglas gave themselves names, and so did BoCo.

Another possibility is that a preservation society would give engines names, though that was more the engines on said heritage line - like in Stepney the Bluebell Engine, where Stepney refers to all his friends on the Bluebell by name, and says his controller gave out some names, like Bluebell and Primrose - but Adams and Cromford got their names from the other engines and they don't want the controller finding out. And again, Stepney and Edward both explicitly say that they believe engines ought to have names - and that they believe it really makes an engine feel like family.

This almost exclusively applies to engines in a steam-dominated society, and once again I have to return to my old nemesis: early British Railways. British Railways inherited a massive network that spanned a continent and had thousands of engines - not to mention the fact they were going to scrap all their steam engines and replace them with new diesel engines. Names were never ever going to be viable. But moreover, they were going to kill all the steam engines - if these engines were seen by the public to be very sentient and intelligent, then there would be an outcry. Dehumanising these engines was extremely important to their business model.

So almost every new engine built under BR got no name. And that includes steam and diesel engines. And this sort of environment, where engines referred to each other by number, became standard.

Names have a lot of meaning behind them. We give names to things we believe are very valuable to us, things we really bond with, like a teddy bear or a beloved family car. Names confer a level of love and care, as opposed to numbers, which have a level of 'repetitive factory conveyor belt' to them, for lack of a better term. These engines, referring to each other by number, didn't sound as human as those referring to each other by name.

For a good example, as mentioned above, the GWR gave all its engines names - and the GWR has the most engines from its company preserved. The fact that people knew these engines had names, and possibly by name, really contributed to how many were saved.

But what makes it even more interesting is the fact that often engines give each other names. Bear is given his name by the other engines, Duck is a nickname given to 'Montague' because he waddles. And I think the reason that none of these diesels have names is because no steam engine ever gave them a name, and company policy means no diesel has the mindset for giving out names either. Steam engines give each other names, but it becomes exclusive to them and friendly diesels, and thus dies out over the generations.

Engines today don't have names. They don't even really have a proper visible number. They have a serial number somewhere, but that's about it. And I think that says a lot about what happened to the tradition of names for engines.

To sum up a very long, winding ramble, I think names came from several places:

Themselves. Engines could name themselves, like Donald and Douglas - who got their names from (maybe) former drivers?

From crew and community. Toby most likely got his name from the people around him, being on an isolated tramway.

From their owners. Flying Scotsman, Mallard and Percy are good examples of this. It represents a level of importance and care for this engine, as well as in some cases reinforcing class.

From other engines. Duck and Bear are great examples of this, as they are given names by their friends that they like, as it makes them feel as if they fit in.

And these names were very common in the steam era as engines gave each other names and communities knew specific engines and gave them names. As everything became more commercial and bureaucratic, naming was lost. Numbers reinforced company identity and dehumanised the engines to make them less sympathetic to the public. Look at Donald and Douglas, who probably had their names for decades - given by their friends - but never learnt by management.

Wow, that took a bit of a dark turn. Thanks for reading, and as usual, none of the above pictures are mine.

[mxxnlightwriting]

Writemas 2024 Day 4

Thanks to @agirlandherquill for hosting this wonderful event!

Tari's Note: We're already on day 4 and I'm growing more invested in this story by the day!! I also have a masterlist for it now in case you want to read this story from the beginning! Also, please excuse any typos and continuity errors! I’ll be writing these directly here so they’ll have minimal editing. Thanks for understanding.

Prompt(s): "You've never looked at me like that before." and Aching Synopsis: Rae sees Emily again, but their encounter is anything but brief. Genre/age group: adult contemporary Word Count: 0.7k

Rae should be on her way home by now. She had finished her day at the woodshop, had helped Henry close up shop after he twisted his ankle, and had leftovers in her fridge for dinner.

Then why was she on her way to the local grocery store? Well, one person was to blame, and her name was Ginny. After agreeing to drive Henry home, Ginny called Rae, saying she needed something urgent from the grocery store. She even messaged her a list of four items that, in Rae's opinion, were not that urgent. Still, as a people pleaser and as someone with nothing better to do, she agreed to help her best friend with this shopping spree.

As soon as she stepped inside the establishment, she waved at Charles by the register and grabbed a small basket to carry with her. The music carried through the empty store, and she hummed the tune under her breath as she checked Ginny's list on her phone. She needed to grab milk, eggs, carrots and apples, and then she'd be out of here.

Rae collected the carrots and apples, then the eggs (she took twelve, just to be safe) and when she went to the milk aisle, she almost tripped on her feet.

Emily stood a few steps away, her light brown hair falling over her shoulder in a thick braid as she wore the thickest jacket Rae had ever seen. She focused on her phone as she typed, glancing at the milk cartons in front of her before shaking her head and typing some more.

Rae approached the milk cartons slowly, trying her best to ignore Emily nearby. She couldn't. Her eyes kept drifting to the woman next to her using the calculator app on her phone to try and figure out which milk carton was effectively the cheapest one to buy.

Some things never change, Rae thought as she let out a small laugh. That was enough for Emily to lift her eyes to her, and for the smile to die on her lips.

Rae's heart ached in her chest the more she stared at Emily. She had changed. The last time she had seen her a few days ago, she couldn't make out most of her features. Now, under the harsh grocery store lights, she noticed everything: the dark circles under Emily's eyes, the septum piercing, the rosy cheeks and smudged mascara, and the most heartbreaking hazel eyes Rae had ever seen. They were more green now than she remembered.

Their staring contest was interrupted when another customer entered the aisle, eyeing Emily with suspicion. Emily offered a polite smile before the old woman huffed and lifted her chin, walking away with all the indignation only an old woman could carry.

"Do I look like I'm about to rob this place?" Emily whispered under her breath.

"Henrietta knows you're back," Rae said, dropping the basket on the floor. "I'm pretty sure every old woman in this town has you on their watchlist."

"That explains the death stares." Emily returned to her calculator app and Rae grabbed one of the milk cartons from the top shelves.

"Take this one," she said, extending it to her. "It's two cents more expensive than the cheaper one, but the flavour is better."

Emily locked her phone and saved it on her jeans. "I would've figured it out, but thanks." She grabbed the milk and bit her lip, and Rae couldn't resist but stare at her mouth. Emily smirked. "You've never looked at me like that before."

"Like what?" Rae asked, meeting her eyes. The regret spilling from them made her hold her breath.

"Like you miss me," Emily said as a matter of fact. She blinked, probably realising the words she had said out loud, and her cheeks became an even brighter shade of red.

Rae hated how much her entire body reacted to it, how much those words destroyed all the barriers she had spent the past few days building, how one look from Emily took her back to a different time, a time when they weren't this cold and cordial with each other.

"Thirteen years is a long time to miss someone," Rae said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. She grabbed the basket from the floor and took a few steps back. "Stay well, Ems."

She disappeared towards the register, only to realise she had forgotten to get the milk for Ginny.

[previous] ● [masterlist] ● [next]

© mxxnlightwriting 2024 All Rights Reserved. Copying, reposting, translating and/or modifications of my work are strictly prohibited.

[connectparanormal]

Haunted Borley Rectory

People have been fascinated and perplexed by the claim that Borley Rectory is "the most haunted house in England" for decades. Reverend Henry Dawson Ellis Bull constructed this rectory in the Gothic style in 1862 and located it in the remote community of Borley, Essex, which became notorious for its purported paranormal activity. There is a complicated mixture of historical events, eyewitness testimonies, and sensationalized legends that have led to the legendary status of Borley Rectory as a place of hauntings. The location known as Borley Rectory has been the subject of these stories. Beginning in the latter half of the 19th century, the Bull family, who had resided there up until the year 1892, provided the first detailed accounts of the eerie story. They described a number of unexplained incidents, including ghostly apparitions, disembodied voices, and footsteps that seemed to echo through the corridors under mysterious circumstances. The story of the nun's apparition has endured and continues to enthrall people. According to local folklore, she became involved in a sorrowful romantic relationship with a monk from a nearby monastery. The monk's execution and the nun's rumored burial alive within the monastery walls marked the tragic end to their illicit love affair. Her ghost is believed to roam the grounds of Borley Rectory, searching for the person she lost her love to forever.

In the 1920s and 1930s, the paranormal activity that occurred at Borley Rectory garnered a great deal of attention. Harry Price, a renowned paranormal investigator, played a significant role in this investigation. Price's study at the rectory involved numerous visits and extensive documentation of his discoveries. He then published these findings in publications that caught the imagination of the general audience. He described a variety of unsettling occurrences in his investigations, including the appearance of ghostly figures, objects moving on their own, and mysterious messages allegedly painted on the walls by spirit hands. The dramatic reports firmly established Borley Rectory's reputation as a haunted spot. On the other hand, critics have consistently cast doubt on the veracity of these assertions over the course of time. There are many who believe that a significant number of the tales were either grossly inflated or completely made up. Some people attribute the phenomenon to natural causes like the ancient structure's creaking and settling, or the activity of animals like mice or rats. On the other hand, not everyone agrees with this theory. Several inhabitants and guests of the rectory have publicly asserted that the events in question are hoaxes or deliberate fabrications, further complicating the tale. As an illustration, it has been proposed that some of the purportedly supernatural occurrences were manufactured for the purpose of gaining attention or financial advantage. Borley Rectory continues to be a legendary location, despite the widespread doubt. This ensures that Borley Rectory will maintain its place in the canon of paranormal legend due to the enduring fascination with the unexplained, coupled with the mysterious and tragic aspects of the stories. Fire destroyed the rectory itself in 1939, a dramatic event that some felt marked the culmination of the building's haunted history. Even in ruins, the stories of hauntings continue to pique people's interest and provoke speculation.