#pls let there be a third one in the next episode it will be So funny

[fitzselfships]

Two episodes in a row. Screenshots that give me rabies <3

[jasmines-library]

Could u pls do a Winchester sister fic like (season 10 ep. 15) but instead of the parasite going into cole it goes into the sister and Dean tries to shock it out like in the episode but then she almost dies and they have to try and find another way

The Things They Carried

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Word Count: 2284 (wow look at me go)

Warnings: Uhhh not sure how to phrase it. Overall gore, kinda throwing up?

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

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The woman had vanished without a trace. Well, at least at first. Her body was found strung upside down in the storage room of a remote part of the city Feyetteville, North Carolina. Perhaps one of the most perplexing parts of the victims disappearance, was that not only was she an Army Private, trained in Krav Maga and Jiu-Jitsu, but her organs had been drained, along with the bone marrow sucked out of her body. This is what had caught Dean’s attention. He now sat in front of you and Sam, the article pulled up on his ipad.

Sam raised his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling as he studied the article once more before handing it off to you. “So…cannibalism. You thinking a Rugaru?”

“Or a God. Maybe.” Dean agreed. A second later he was up on his feet, ready to go. Sam tried to protest. Ever since Dean got the mark of Cain Sam has been solely focused on trying to find a way to remove it. He was constantly on edge and you had to admit you were too. It seemed that no amount of research seemed to give enough answers on the mark. Eventually, with a look from his older brother and a defeated sigh, Sam let up and not even 10 minutes later, the three of you were speeding down the road.

Much to your disappointment, when you arrived in the city the first thing the three of you were told was that the local police had closed the case. However, they had given you a name, and the incriminating evidence. The sheriff; an elderly man, perhaps late 60s with white, thinning hair, had also told you that the offender had also committed suicide before the feds could lock him up. He also told you that this was the third suicide the city had seen in the last 6 months. A pattern. This was definitely something supernatural, if that wasn’t already clear. However, when Sam asked about the body, the sheriff informed the three of you that there were no bite marks, and that the victim had been killed with a bowie knife. That ruled out a Rugaru, leaving your trail dry.

The next step of the hunt was to speak to Beth, the offender's widow. She was rather distraught as she bounced her baby softly in her arms. When she glanced away from it, you could see the pain in her eyes; the dark circles that rim them. 

“Rick was a kind soul.” She insisted sadly, glancing down at the floor. The way she spoke of her late husband was filled with awe, but woven thick was pain that choked up her voice. You could tell that she still hadn’t processed her husband’s recent change in personality. 

“Did you ever notice anything strange?” Sam asked gently, his fingers clasped together as he leaned against the countertop. “Violent mood swings?”

“Weird smells?” You added.

“No….” The woman frowned. “But Rick was- he was-” she stuttered, unable to word what she wanted to say correctly, almost as if she didn’t really believe it or understand it herself. “He was thirsty.”

You tilted your head at her, her words catching your interest. “Thirsty for what?”

Her answer surprised you. “Water. He’d spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. And then, when I told him to stop it was like he couldn’t even hear me. And his skin; it got so dry it bled.”

Your older brothers watched intently. “Did he see a doctor?” Dean questioned gruffly.

The poor woman shook her head. There were now soft tears rolling down her face, mingling with the ghosts of the ones there before. “He just got put on a list to be put on a list. And then he stopped talking. He just wasn't himself–” she sniffled, shifting her baby in her arms. “I thought….maybe it was just PTSD.”

No one said anything for a moment before you broke the silence tenderly. “We’re very sorry.”

“You said that Rick had been recently deployed.” Dean said. “Do you have any idea where?”

“No.” She answered rather bluntly. “That stuff’s classified. They don’t even let the wives in on it.”

And the trail runs cold again. 

But then, just as you were about to leave and Sam left your number, Beth stopped you again. 

“There’s one other thing.” she added. “I ran into my friend Jemma at the supermarket. She’s married to Kit Verson. A guy from Rick’s team. She thinks Kit came back different this time. Kind of felt like we were dealing with the same thing.”

The trail picks up again.

After a little while running around after Kit Verson, discovering that he murdered someone else the same way that his friend did, the three of you ended up in an old shack that his wife believed he might have fled to. It was dark. Eerily so. However not as eerie as the trail of dead mice on the floor. Machetties in hand and guns in holsters, the three of your crept through the darkness of the hut. You found him hunched over in the back room of the house. His breathing was rough and ragged as though he might have run a mile at top speed. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, his head whipped around, bloodshot eyes boring into you. His mouth and face was splattered with blood and dirt, and his movements were erratic as he stood up to face you. He gripped you tight, cold fingers like icicles against your skin as he pushed you back against the wall. And then his eyes were pleading with you. The harsh crease between his eyebrows softened for just a moment as he used his body weight to keep you pinned up against the wood panelling. 

“I’m sorry,” he grunted out, wrestling with you to keep you in his grasp. “I can’t stop.”

And then, you were on the floor, dirty ground rising to meet you fast as he made you lose your footing. And then, as you struggled beneath him he made this awful gagging noise as the creature slithered out of his throat and forced its way into you. You coughed, gagging yourself as your brothers rushed into the room. They were on Kit in seconds, but he was strong, throwing your brothers around before dashing out of the door. Quick on his feet, Dean followed, leaving you staggering for breath on the floor with Sam.

“Are you alright?!” Sam asked, alarmed as he rushed to your side, helping you up off the floor.

You coughed. “Some-something’s inside of me–” a grimace spread across your face as you felt it move. “It’s alive–”

“It what?” Sam blinked. “What did it look like? Do you know what it was?”

“Khan worm.” Dean answered, catching on to the end of the conversation. “At Least i think it is. Why? Did you see it?”

You groaned in pain, so Sam answered for you. “It crawled inside her.”

Dean froze, his eyes going wide. “What?”

Sam nodded grimly. 

“Did you see what it was? Dean asked worriedly. 

You coughed, hands flying to your mouth. “Khan worm.”

“Shit.” Dean cursed aloud, running his hands through his hair. 

“We have two options.” You said, trying to hide the grimace on your face as you felt the worm moving, ,crawling under your skin. Neither of the two options were very pleasant at all. You and your brothers had worked a case with Khan worms a few years ago and there were two ways that you discovered the worms could be killed. And while these worms seemed slightly different to the first ones you discovered, you figured that they were similar enough that the same rules would apply. The first option was probably the most forward one, but it also involved certain death; a headshot to the infected person that would cause the worm to flee the body where it would then be crushed by Sam or Dean. Option one was very clearly off the table. The second was far more painful, but it also harboured greater chances of survival. 

Dean began to protest immediately. “No. No no. there’s got to be another way.” 

“You know we dont-”

“Kid….” Sam started. 

“Just do it. We have no other choice.”

Dean sighed, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright.”

~

Dean had managed to find two batteries hidden in the small cabin. He placed them grimly on the table with a thud before connecting two of the jump wires that Sam had gone and collected from Baby’s trunk. You were sitting in the armchair, fingers gripping the leather as you waited anxiously. Sam tried to give you some comforting words, but you weren’t sure who he was trying to comfort more; you or himself. 

“Alright.” Dean said, his voice laced thick with an anxiousness and guilt he was yet to shake. He brought the cables over to you as you took a deep breath, placing a wooden spoon between your mouth to keep you from biting through your tongue. 

Settling back in the chair, you took a moment to collect yourself. To prepare for the agony you were about to put yourself through. And then, you gave him a brief nod 

The sudden pain when Dean pressed the jump cables to your skin was overwhelming. Unbearable. A million agonies all combined to one as the electricity raced through your veins. You screamed, crying out as your teeth bit down on the wood of the spoon, which helped to muffle the sound. Both of your brothers winced at the sound of your agony as you twisted and writhed. Sam had to look away and Dean had to force himself to keep the cables against your skin though he yearned to take away your pain. But nothing happened. As soon as your brother removed the cables, you were panting for breath, trying to recover quickly from the pain. You couldn’t help but notice the looks on your brother’s faces.

“Anything?”

Sam shook his head dismally. The parasite was still in you. 

“Go again.”

Dean startled. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Go again.” You strained. 

Dean collected himself, and then; the same pain. But still as you writhed. Fists clenching and nails digging into your palms the worm remained inside you. And your brothers were growing increasingly concerned. Your movements began to slow as you grew quieter and your eyes fluttered, drooping with a sudden heaviness. Dean pulled the cables away immediately and you slumped back against the chair. Your head lolled forwards against your chest and your breathing was concerningly slow and laboured. 

“Okay….okay…” Sam said gently, slipping an arm behind your back to help support you.You whimpered slightly at the movement. “ Shh. You’re alright sweetheart.” he glanced up at Dean, fear and worry evident in the creases on his forehead. They would have to find a different way to get the worm out.

~

You were sweating. Gods….you’d never been hotter. Your body still ached as you sat in the armchair of the cabin. The old leather was flaking off and was practically covered in a sheen of your own sweat. Sam and Dean had pushed it towards the fire, leaving you to sweat against the heat. They had figured that as the parasite needed water, if they could make you sweat it all out…then the creature would leave. But now you were practically slumped in a chair, dark veins crawling up your neck as you tried to rid the worm from your body. You coughed a little, your throat dry, with no way to soothe it. Thirst…..that was the only thing that consumed your mind…you were so. damn. thirsty. Your body craved it. Anything you could get you would take….even your own brothers’ blood. The parasite yearned for something. You could feel it, squirming around inside you. Uncomfortable, you whined before coughing a little, doubling over on yourself. 

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hang in there, Sweetheart. You have to sweat it out.”

“Can’t–” You coughed. 

“Yes you can.” Dean shut you down quickly. “You can’t give up. Winchesters don’t quit.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your head spun. You felt sick. But you knew you couldn’t give up. You were in for a long waiting game. 

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when you were on the verge of breaking down that you began to feel it slithering up your throat. You gagged, coughing as you tried to expel the creature from your body. 

Sam and Dean were by your side in seconds, both trying to coax you through it, ready to stomp on the worm as soon as it made an appearance. Sure enough you managed to cough it up uncomfortably. It splattered on the floor, squealing as it writhed and trying to slither off to infect someone else. It didn’t make it far before Dean slammed a heavy boot over it. And once more for good measure. It squelched under his shoe, peeling off from it as it stuck to the floor. He grimaced at the sight before moving to crouch beside you, checking on you.

You wiped the string of saliva from your mouth with a grimace before gratefully taking the water bottle Sam offered you and wasting no time before drinking it to quench your impossible thirst.

“That's it. Easy, Sweetheart.” Dean cooed. “It’s over now.”

“You did it, kiddo.” Sam said, guiding you to lean back in the chair more. “We knew you could do it. We’re proud of you.”

(A bit of a rubbish ending! I'm sorry i wasn't sure what to do)

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SPN TAGS:

@xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @rosecentury

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[siolixz]

ღ Of Love and Loyaltyღ

+18

Part 2

<Part 1> <Part 3: final>

Pairings: Oz "The Penguin" Cobb x Reader

Reader takes Victor's place in this story. She and Oz have developed a relationship of sorts and she changed based on everything around her.

Reader is a young girl infatuated with a man decades older than her- who is also very dangerous and powerful (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)👌 pls take everything with a grain of salt. Oz's mom is actually dead in this story. I will write a third and final part to this after the last episode. Everyone in this story is 18+ and consenting 100%.

Enjoy, give some feedback if you want. (>‿◠)✌

Warnings: violence, age-gap relationship, smut(¬‿¬)

You finally made something of yourself. Sure it was all blood money, but you did- you did what you had to do to survive and not only that, to thrive. 

Before leaving he told you to get in the car while he talked to Sofia outside, when you got back he was on his knees- a gun pointed at his face. You acted on impulse and drove the car into one of the guys there; best thing you could’ve done at the moment he told you.

 You would think that planning to escape would distance you from him but it did the opposite- even after wrecking his car, that poor gorgeous car; you’ve never been in one as fancy before- let alone drive it.  

“I’m so-sorry about your car.” you said as you stared at it in flames. 

“Yeah- what're ya gonna do 'bout it- only the good die young.” he came closer to you and grabbed the back of your head- forcing you to look at him. “Don’t be sad about it- you’re worth a thousand more to me.” 

He told you that you two were “really in it now”- and he couldn’t have been more right about that.

He got the Bliss operation back from the Maroni family by burning the mother and the heir apparent to their family- together. His brutality frightened you but If he wanted to rule the mob- he had to be brutal and unwavering in his choices, at least that’s what you told yourself to justify what he had done. Now not only Sofia Gigante was after you, but also Sal Maroni.

In the weeks following you had your own operation- underground, in a sewer system that connected you to all of Gotham, you became Oz’s eyes and ears above ground, traveling on your motorcycle- giving him news about the world above and delivering his money directly in his hands. He had given you your own gun—"just in case someone messes with you"—though you never ended up using it.

 Oz trusted you, even after your attempt at an escape- he moved you two to an apartment on the East Side, one that reminded you of your old one; without electricity but it did its job. In the apartment you got very close to him, you got to know him much better and you changed too in the meantime, you were more confident- more sure of yourself next to him. 

He was all you had, the one person who made you feel like you were the center of his world. One night- he came "home" late, as he often did. You were already in bed, curled up and trying to stay warm when you felt the familiar weight of his body sinking into the mattress. He slid under the covers and pulled you close, and you sighed, finally feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

"The people in charge really don’t give a fuck about us," you murmured, exhaustion lacing your voice. It was a tired frustration—being cold at work and now being cold at home. Winter was coming, and your mind drifted to families with children who needed warmth.

He took a deep breath. The long days weighed heavily on him; managing his people and the constant stress left him drained. Most nights, he would grab a bite, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, cold or not, he’d fall into a deep sleep. You’d take advantage of those moments, cuddling close and pulling his heavy arm over you. Oswald slept like a rock.

"I’ll do something about it," he said, his deep voice vibrating through you. In the weeks you’d been together, you’d learned how to speak to him, how to make him feel powerful—your man, your only one. He was the only man who had ever made you feel this way, and you couldn’t deny the rush you felt watching him command respect when he barked out orders to his men, a cigar perched between his lips. God, he was handsome. Your stomach would flutter every time you caught a glimpse of him, even if only for a second.

He was a towering presence, terrifying when he loomed over you, and seeing him angry was enough to scare you senseless. But it also sets your heart racing for other reasons too.

Before the club, his gaze never strayed from you; now, it was his hands that constantly sought you. He couldn't help himself when you were close, sometimes grabbing you in public like an eager kid in a candy shop. You learned that when he called you into his "office," it meant he was either seething with anger or burning with desire—either way, you knew he’d end up taking it out on you. 

He’d told you more than once that he hadn’t felt this alive in years, and you could sense the shift in everything he did—from the way he spoke to the intensity in the way he fucked you. He had changed.

You told him about Squid- about how he came up to you today- asking you where you got your clothes- “what shit you got cooking” - Oz asked you if it was going to be a problem, you told him no; he could count on you- you won’t let him down.

“You know, I think you’re the only thing keeping me good, doll.” he traced circles on your arm. If you were keeping him good, what was Oz like when bad? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt his hands traveling under the blanket and beneath the sweater and t-shirt you had on and you proceeded to hiss once they made contact with your skin “your hands are so cold” you said and he chuckled.

The next day, you made true to your promise and met up with Squid- you had a plan, of course you did, you would give him some money and hope he would leave you alone.

Of course the dumb bastard declined the money- of course he tried to intimidate you to “bring him to the big man” or else he was gonna go to the Maronis or Falcones- maybe they would help him; the fuck was he thinking?  That a small-time asshole like him could make a deal with Oz? 

So many thoughts were running through your head, what if you did bring him to Oz? You didn’t want to bother him, he had enough stuff he had to worry about- plus the things Oz would do to him were too graphic to think about. What if you ran? No, he would catch you- probably beat the shit out of you too. Shit.

“Ok, I’ll take you to him.” you said as you were going down the steps, him following. Fuck-fuck you had to shoot him, this motherfucker was going to ruin whatever you had going on.

You had to shoot him, no other time better than now- your pistol was in the front of your jeans. Do it now.  You grabbed your gun from your pants and before you knew it, you turned around and pulled the trigger. 

When you opened your eyes, Squid was gripping his throat- blood was coming out in buckets- he stared at you and your shocked face. Neither of you believing what you just did. Your breathing was becoming heavier and heavier- almost gasping for breath- you just shot someone- he was going to die. 

Oh god, he was dying. You watched as the light drained from his eyes and you didn’t want to stick around to see him pass so you ran- you ran to your motorcycle and then you drove above the speed limit, probably breaking a few laws too until you got underground.

 He was probably dead by now- you just killed him. You never realized that you were crying as well; you ran to his office and thanked the lord that no one was around to see you. 

You opened the door and there he was, wearing a well tailored shirt and a vest- writing something down- money next to him. He quickly looked up as he heard you come in and then dropped his head down to continue what he was writting “Well look who decided to pay me a visit”,  he muttered with a smirk; you tried to control your sobs and when he heard the shallow breath you took to steady yourself- he looked up again “The fuck happened?” he immediately got up and went towards you.

You told him what happened between sobs as he held you on his lap, seated in his chair.  You told him everything; about Squid- how he threatened to go to the Falcones or the Maronis- how you knew you had no choice and while leaning back he told you that it will get easier, this isn’t the end of the world.

“You wanna know something?” He grabbed your face and made you look at him “You did what was right, you protected yourself, what you have. No one can take that from you- I’m proud of you.” Your sad demeanor was gone by now and replaced with the familiar warmth you had whenever he said something like this.

 He kissed you and brought your body and embraced you “You’ve grown so much in these weeks, you’re no longer the kid that used to sneak around buildings-” you kissed him, bringing his lower lip between your lips. You wanted to forget- forget what happened and what you did- he always made you forget all your worries, you only ever thought about him when you were in his presence. He put his arm beneath both of your legs as you were sitting and you almost yelped when he got you on his desk.

“Oz-” Ok, maybe getting him started wasn’t the best idea, whenever you got him going he would forget about the windows in his office or the fact that someone might hear you.

You tried to bring one of your legs between the two of you, trying to stop him “-Oz, when we are home” you tried to reason with the man, even if getting fucked in his office would turn you on in the worst ways and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t getting wet already.

 He loved the power he would hold over you- whenever he would manhandle you in any position he would like or whenever he would order you to do something- you couldn’t lie, you liked it too; sometimes he would have you suck his cock as he solved the men's pay, sometimes he would have you on all fours on his bed- Oz was a man that loved to be in control, to be number one- the best. You knew that. 

He was already getting your jacket off, “Oz-” he grabbed the money from the table and placed it away from you two, before getting back to kissing and groping you.

He grabbed hold of your clothed pussy and from the feeling of his hand there- you raised your butt slightly up and pushed back into him.

 This relationship that you two had, it made you feel like a woman- it was so different than the one you had with Robert, where it was just light touches on your face and small kisses- Oswald was a man, whenever he wanted you, he would have you and it made you feel as if you were wanted and desired- it made you feel alive.

He stopped and you knew someone was probably at the door. Shit- this is so embarrassing, you looked down and without making eye contact, went into the small room connecting to his office- he had a bed there, a small one; not big enough for two people to sleep comfortably but it was something. It was also way more warm in here than outside where everyone else was working. 

You took your sweater off and sat on the bed, while listening to what he was saying to the guy that came in, something about the meeting he had and a surprise. You had to ask him about that, but after he was done with you.

 Your heart was beating out of your ches- the door opened. 

He looked at you and made small steps towards the bed, you were smiling while scooting back- with butterflies dancing in your stomach; wondering what he was gonna do next when he grabbed both of your legs and placed them on either side of him before joining you on the bed- on top of you.

One of his hands immediately went to your ass, giving him easier access to rubbing himself over you and the other one was supporting him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your lips met his. Despite the darkness and heaviness of the moment, he still radiated a magnetic presence—full of charisma as ever, his scent enveloping you in a way that made everything else fade. From the sharpness of his aftershave to the depth of his cologne, he had it all. He started pushing himself even harder against you, where it was almost painful; you moaned in his mouth and against his tongue. 

He raised himself on his knees on the bed, casting a shadow over you and ordered you to take your jeans off and get on all fours while he was taking his vest off and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Your hands were shaking a little bit as you unbuttoned your pants and took them off.

After you obeyed him and raised your butt in the air, he grabbed hold of it- to angle you how he wanted; excitement so palpable you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, almost laughing. You felt him slowly enter you, giving you a few small moments to adjust to his size- you closed your eyes and moaned, you don’t think you’re ever gonna get enough of this man; all of him.

“Oh baby-” he was always so vocal during sex. 

The feeling of him stretching you out and the feeling of him pushing himself in you in and out- whenever he would press himself back in, he brushed up against your g-spot- the sound of his body when it connected to yours was so loud- it made your cheeks burn- you were so wet and he didn’t even touch you all that much, like that night at the club. He had a gun under your chin and you were so wet, who even were you anymore?

You arched your back, consciously making yourself as pleasing as possible for him. The act itself sent a thrill through you, but it also made your cheeks flush with a mix of desire and shy uncertainty- the usual girlhood embarrassment that flushed your cheeks overtaking your body whenever he had you like this. 

When he found his rhythm- while grabbing your waist and pushing you back into him, he’d shower you with praise. “You take me so well… you’re such a good girl—my good girl.” He knew exactly how to make your stomach flip with words like that—this old dog. 

He pulled you back against him time and time again before you felt like it was almost painful, your moans of pleasure mixing with those of pain.

He pulled himself out and got on his back next to you, ”Come ‘ere” you giggled in excitement- he loved whenever you rode him.

You squatted over him- your legs on either side of his body and with one of your hands- you brought his cock between your legs and you watched closely as his stupid grin was wiped from his face when you lowered down on him, mouth open- you gave him a quick peck on his lips. Your legs were almost shaking and a thin layer of sweat covered his forehead. 

From this position you could feel him so deep inside- you started to grind yourself on him- it felt so good; you almost started crying again. 

Oz grabbed your tits from underneath your shirt and was slowly pushing himself deeper in you “You’re my girl- I’m so proud-” he groaned as he said that, this mountain of a man- beneath you, between your thighs; you felt like you held the power “-I’m so proud of you.” 

From this position you could feel him brushing against your clit, the feeling only making you go faster, the thrill of reaching your peak on him taking over “easy…easy” he repeated- obviously, you didn't listen. 

You shifted the tempo, lifting yourself up before sliding back down, causing him to grimace. Without missing a beat, he pulled your upper body down, pressing you flush against him- you pressed your face against his shoulder and he grabbed it- holding it there; the cold feeling of his rings compared to how hot your face was giving you goosebumps.

You felt him adjust his legs and from this position he started to fuck you how he wanted to. He thrived on being in charge, practically reveled in the power it gave him. God, your throat was dry- you were sure you would be sore down there after you two were done.

 You knew anyone walking by could 100% hear you at this point, you tried to be quiet but to no avail with this man. Oz seemed to like whenever people would stare at the two of you and it excited him to think anyone would be listening in.

You brought your face up when he slowed down and kissed him, putting your tongue in his mouth. This felt so amazing but you knew he probably had places he had to be. “Do I make you feel good baby?” you nodded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the right side of his face, right on the thick scar that ran from his mouth to his cheekbone.

He was a strikingly intimidating man, his features hardened by a life of danger. You slowly brought yourself down and up- trying to match his movements. 

“You get so tight around me-” he placed his arm over you, bringing you as tight as he could on him. 

One of your hands went under the pillow he had under his head and the other was gripping the side of the bed. His rhythm was becoming sloopy- switching between fucking you and kissing you, on your cheeks or on your mouth; he grabbed your ass in both of his hands, squeezing and pushing you down on him while he fucked you. 

You looked in his eyes, the light from above casting a shadow over them that only added to his allure.  “-I’m gonna cum” you nodded again- words escaping you “Tell me where-tell me” he closed his eyes- you knew he would start with that, the only way he finished was inside you. 

Whether it was your mouth or your pussy. Oz loved when you would describe how he felt in you, how you loved when he would fuck you- how you wanted him to cum in you. It turned him on. It turned him on how embarrassed you would feel most of the time he made you say those things.

You told him you wanted it inside and It wasn’t long before he started his fast pace again and you closed your eyes, trying not to moan as loud as you would like- fuck he felt so good. It mustn't have been long before you felt him slow down and the familiar feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you. You had to drink some water- your throat was hurting. Oz hugged you close to him and while one of his hands was rubbing your back he kissed your forehead- “You feeling better?”.

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Author's note: Bro you just fucked him AGAIN?

Finished there the story because I KNEW i would start writing a lot and I wanna finish part 2 in time for the finale. I'm sososos excited for it and sad it will end ugh. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thank you to all the people that wrote nice things to me regarding my writing, I've been having some health problems lately and your messages made me feel so much better, truly. Have a nice day :))))))

[witchinatree]

"Gwen Bouchard; Too Close to the Sun"

third time's the charm except this one was a disaster and i just want to be DONE with it 😡

i was waiting hoping for more sad gwen and then 23 handed me exactly what i needed. and alice i love her too

this also made me think about like 1. babygirl blackmailed lena into letting her icarus herself, and 2. alice never doubted her for a moment, even when sam was cackling about the bonzo thing, i hope gwen and alice talk more because they need it/each other

so originally i was going to use the song "the rockrose and the thistle" by the amazing devil but i listened to the lyrics a bit more and realized it's way better for basira and daisy. guess what the next one is gonna be LMAO

i'm exhausted though so pls don't hold your breath you will suffocate ‼️

the podcast is the magnus protocols, song is "bubble gum" by clairo, and i used capcut (evil) to do this

sorry this one is kinda all over the place, i didn't have great scenes to transition between. it was so much easier with jon we got 200 episodes of him never shutting the fuck up (/pos)

if anyone ever asks me who my favorite tmagp character is pls show them this, it will not answer their question but i want internet points for my labor (it is gwen and alice though)

[lenaariewrld]

C.16 — are u mad at me (w) *

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WARNING !! this chapter contains explicit content/smut, so minors/ageless blogs PLEASE DNI!! the explicit parts will be marked with *** so anyone who wishes to avoid that can skip it and it won't affect your understanding of the story! other than that, pls enjoy the unedited, very tame filth of this^^

| WC: 6.0k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

You, Ganyu, and Keqing were already in the studio when Childe came in with his little grocery haul, a binder tucked in his arms too. He’d taken to bringing physical copies of the script for himself, as well as the cd’s he burned the playlists onto. When he closes the door behind him with a little kick, the conversation the three of you were indulged in came to a temporary halt. You leaned back in your chair and greet him by holding out your hand, wordlessly asking for the treats.

He rolls his eyes, handing over the plastic baggie he was carrying. “Thanks!” You chirp happily, setting the bag on the little table once it was passed to your hands. You dig around, handing Keqing her snack and taking out your own things. You also set Childe’s snacks in front of the empty seat for him. He sets your drink down in front of you and takes his seat.

The whole exchange is mostly wordless and takes only a few seconds before the conversation kicks back in. Keqing gets to business immediately, any of the light-hearted ribbing or mindless chatter traded for her notes about the recording and letting you guys know the mics were extra sensitive that day and to be mindful of your volume. You nod along, dragging your swivel chair behind you as she quickly ushers you and Childe into the booth.

For the third recording in a row, you and Childe work perfectly well together, flowing through the conversations and jokes rather easily. Only, you find yourself getting distracted on occasion. You’re staring. Drifting off when you’re not speaking. Your eyes even, as if on instinct, fall on Childe, watching the way he queues up songs halfway through your sentences, ready to transition into them. Or the way he adjusts himself in his seat while he’s speaking. And you notice how relaxed he looks, a lot more than in the past couple of episodes. Or maybe you’re just now noticing that fact.

And, fuck, he looks good. He’s just wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, a casual enough outfit that really doesn’t let you see much at all and would, in fact, look messy on other people. But it’s fitted enough for him. 

He rolls up his sleeves halfway through or so, and you can’t help the way your eyes drift to his arms, the way his muscles flex as he moves to mess with the buttons and knobs on the desk–adjusting certain things with the mix as it plays –and the way his jaw clenches whenever he swallows a laugh, his adam’s apple bobbing as he settles on chuckling at your half-thought retort to whatever he just said. You notice the way his fingers drum on his thigh when he’s leaning back in his own chair, turning back and forth while you do your own thing.

You can’t help but feel like a nun being drawn to sin. The shame of staring and yet the enticing allure of it turning over in your stomach until it’s sufficiently tangled in little knots.

And maybe it’s because you haven’t gotten properly laid in months, your schedule far too busy once school started for you to have many flings (though, truth be told, you weren’t into the appeal of hookups, really. Only once or twice when you were really desperate but not now). Maybe that’s why your mind keeps being fixated on him and every little habit of his.

Childe catches your eyes only once and you immediately turn away, keeping your eyes squarely on the script or the mic directly in front of you as you keep recording. Your shirt feels too warm on your skin all of a sudden.

Shake it off, ignore it.

You chastise yourself internally. But everytime you blink, your mind goes back to that night at the club. That night a week ago, when you’d lost any good sense still in your head and have yet to regain. Now it was all foggy and grey, the exact memories of what happened a blur, but you remember the feeling and you remember the way your chest felt like a percussionist’s wet dream with how crazy your heart had been racing. You were sure there was some fucked up part of your brain that was still hungover, that had to be the only reason you were still like this.

It takes a grueling amount of time, but finally the recording finishes and Ganyu and Keqing begin to edit over the audio and whatnot, working together once again to put the finished product together before any of y’all call it a night. You sigh and lean your elbows against the edge of the desk, careful not to jostle any of the equipment too badly. Despite how long you’ve spent in this little studio, you weren’t entirely sure how delicate everything was. You barely register the ginger man beside you getting up.

“You… seemed a little out of it,” Childe notices when he comes back, slumping back into his seat with his drink in hand. He balances it on his knee between drinks.

“Did I?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye.

Even casually like this, he’s managed to look attractive. He hasn’t styled his hair at all like he would during the day for classes or outings, and he’s not wearing any makeup like he does on stage, allowing you to see the many freckles dotting his skin from his face down his neck and disappearing behind the navy blue fabric of his hoodie. “I dunno,” He shrugs, taking another sip from his drink before setting the cup on the floor, out of the way. “I mean, you kept spacing out and weren’t as… sharp as you usually are,” He explains.

He shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket, his elbows on the arm rests. “Maybe I’m wrong, though,” He shrugs once again.

You simply hum in response.

It falls silent, the two of you watching the other women as they work away. Two minutes turns to ten and then to twenty, and eventually your brain starts to drift elsewhere. Again, it goes back to that night. Recalling the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours, your skin warm and alive. The way he so desperately held onto you, a hold that seemed like he didn’t want to let go either.

“Finished,” Keqing’s voice jostles you out of your daydream as she announces herself, standing up. You perk up, scooting your chair forward. She shuts off her computer and slides it into its case in her backpack. “I have to go help one of the professors I’m TA’ing for grade papers, so I can’t help shut everything down… Can you guys handle it?” She looks between you and Childe, as if questioning if she can trust the two of you to be left alone without burning the place down. You can’t entirely fault her for her hesitance.

“Oh yeah! Me and Y/n can do it..” Childe assures. He looks at Ganyu when she opens her mouth to speak. “I mean, you probably need your rest too, right? And I think we’ll be fine by ourselves for one night,” He adds. Your eyes widen at his confidence, looking over at him like a deer caught in headlights. Collecting yourself a second later, you nod along. He was just being helpful, he wasn’t insinuating anything. Surely.

Ganyu agrees to head home and try to rest with your assurances, packing up her things and giving you a quick hug. You wish her a goodnight and close the door behind her. Now, you find yourself alone with Childe for the second time in that recording studio.

You’re quiet as you and Childe begin to pack everything up, finding your tasks and rhythm to do things separately. On occasion, you end up reaching for the same cable and you jump back immediately at the contact, refusing to meet his eyes as you turn to do something else. By the eighth occurrence of that happening, the man huffs quietly.

“Y/n, are you mad at me or something?” He asks.

“What? No,” You shake your head, flashing a short placating smile before returning to the cable you were wrapping up. Ever since the two of you started to get along more, Childe seemed to understand your tells and how to read your behavior quickly. It’s terrifying to you that he learned you so well and so fast.

“Then..” He presses his lips together, shuffling his chair closer to yours. “What’s up with you,” He pushes, gently taking the cables from your hands. You lean back dramatically in your chair, letting out a long sigh. Your mind runs through multiple ideas of how you could play off why you’re being out of character. Bad days, overwhelming classwork, or even just being exhausted don’t seem to perfectly dismiss it. You sigh again.

“It’s stupid,”

“Eh, everything sort of is. Doesn’t mean it’s bad,” He replies calmly, leaning down in his chair and tucking the cables under the desk securely. You watch him for a second.

What’s the worst that could happen..?

“The other night,” You begin and he pauses. You know he knows what you’re talking about, remembering the same details you do (or more, since he seems to hold his liquor far better than you). “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“Are you uncomfortable with me now because of it? I promise I’m not thinking something of it, and I won’t try anything,”

Childe is quick to assure you and you snort in amusement, running your hand over your face. This situation was absurd. This conversation was absurd! And his responses seemed to be the cherry on top of this cake of weirdness and awkward tension. You fidget with the strings of your cutoff shorts, the hem tangled and messy where you’d distressed it haphazardly.

“No,” You finally admit, dropping your hands and running them over your bare legs. He turns to you then, his brows raised. He says nothing, allowing you to continue, but his interest is piqued. “I mean…” Again, your fingers run over your thighs, your palms massaging away the nerves starting to bubble up. At least, you were attempting to do that. “It’s just been on my mind lately because… it’s…been a while,” You finally manage to say it, throwing all caution to the wind. “Since I was kissed like that,” You add when he continues to stare at you wordlessly.

He blinks. “‘Kissed like that’?” He parrots, sitting up properly in his chair again. He continues to stare at your expression, the rising blush forming on your cheeks and down your neck, the fidgeting of your hands, the way your eyes dart around but not meeting his gaze. When it finally clicks a second later, his face lights up and he looks at you with a simpering smile. “You’re horny, aren’t you?”

You squawk indignantly at his brazen words, swatting at his arm. “Don’t fucking say it like that!” You chastise, fighting the urge to smile. Ridiculous. Childe doesn’t take your faux annoyance seriously, laughing and throwing his head back, fully and completely amused by the turn the conversation took. You roll your eyes, chuckling alongside him.

“I won’t judge,” He says when he finally calms down. “It’s been a hot minute for me too.. It was nice to know I wasn’t… rusty,” He grimaces as he says that last word, scratching the side of his neck almost awkwardly. You chuckle again, nodding in understanding. At least you both seem to be in a similar boat and you’re not a freak for thinking about something like that (not that you would be in normal circumstances, but it feels much deeper knowing the history you two share). The air in the room seems to drop, growing thick in the after of your shared confessions, the two of you silent in contemplation.

Childe stares off at the wall and you once again fidget with your shorts.

What if… 

You’re definitely not drunk, and you’re definitely not under any high-running emotions when the idea comes to you, but it still pops in your head and you still pause as you consider it. Truthfully, you’re not sure what boldness draws you to initiate this time, and you have no excuse other than, perhaps, pure curiosity (that’s gotta be it!). You lean forward in your chair, catching his attention when you grab the arm rest of his chair and pull yourself a little closer, your knees bumping against his.

He looks at you, looks at the hand on his arm rest, and then you again.

You swallow quickly, your stomach tangling itself all up again as you pluck up the courage to speak your mind “Would you… want to test it again?” You ask. Childe’s brows jump up on his forehead as he stares at you incredulously, watching your face. He’s checking your expression, you realise, looking for any hints that you might be teasing him or a sign of mischief. Anything that said you were playing a sick joke on him for what he’d admitted to you.

When you don’t falter or crack a joke, though it takes everything in you to not back down and backtrack in the face of his silence, he nods. It’s almost shy, unsure. He sits up in his chair and scoots forward to meet you halfway. The corners of your mouth fight to pull into a smile, his little mannerisms striking something in your chest. There’s at least three separate times you can rescind your question, but it all goes out the window as he presses his lips to yours.

His kiss is soft this time, unlike the messy fire that the first kiss had been. It ignites you all the same and you kiss him back, insistent against his lips. His reservations seem to melt at your eagerness, at the way you don’t hesitate to tangle your fingers in the curls of his hair, pulling him in deeper.

And then it’s there again, the need and the heady feeling clouding your good decision making when you taste his tongue, whatever slushie he’d been drinking fruity and intoxicating like any alcohol. Maybe even more so. He kisses you like you’re the air he breathes, holding onto the back of your neck, and he leans forward to hover over you. The angle is awkward and would hurt your neck if you gave a shit, but neither of you care at that time, too absorbed in this.

Your lungs scream for air, and he’s sure he’d gladly asphyxiate on your kiss, but you pull him away, tugging at his hair. A low noise rumbles in his throat, his eyes opening just enough to take you in. The sheen of your lips, the string of saliva on your tongues, the flush of your face and the heave of his chest as he takes in the oxygen he unfortunately needs. Childe looks over your face and it’s clear that this isn’t nearly enough. It’s like having a taste of a sweet dessert and expecting either of you to not want more bites.

***

So he dives back in when you wordlessly nod, kissing you breathless once more. Your body arched towards him, a shiver running down your spine as one of his hands slid over your body, down your sides and legs. He held your hips, his lips on your jaw. “Look at you, so clingy all of a sudden..” His voice was thick, lower as he whispered in your ear, a mocking tone in his words that made your skin run hotter than before.

“Childe,” You moan and sigh his name all at once, your nails scratching against his scalp deliciously. It’s exhilarating, a thrill that sets your nerves alight at every touch and motion from him. Your head is starting to float as he continues his attack against your skin, his teeth sending sparks as he nips at your neck.

And he’s strong, dammit, annoyingly so as his hands continue to hold your hips down, restricting the way you want to roll against his body, desperate for friction– for more.

“Childe, please,” He’s ruthless as his kisses trail further down, and he chuckles dryly.

“Already begging?” He cocks his head to the side.

You sneer a little bit at his cocky attitude, tugging harshly at his hair. That elicits another noise from the man, a soft whine as he grabs your waist tighter, almost a bruising touch. Your stomach burns. “Childe, I’m not asking again, give me more,” Your voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, and Childe relents his teasing. He leans back, situating himself in his chair again and pulling you with him. Obediently, you slide from your chair onto his lap, sighing pleasantly as his fingers trail down your sides and onto your thighs. He glances at you through his lashes, holding you up slightly.

He’s checking for permission, but when you nod, he only smiles in coy innocence. “I don’t speak head shakes, baby,” His fingers massage the fat of your thighs, toying just at the hem of your shorts, dangerously close to where you need him.

With an impatient whine, you lift your hips against his hands. “Fuck me, please,” You concede. Childe hums appreciatively, pulling your knees apart and placing a chaste kiss against your shoulder.

“Good job,” He coos sweetly. The man wastes no time in unbuttoning your shorts and untucking your shirt. He kisses messily at your neck as he pulls the denim down your legs, aiding you in the movement to lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them to the side. As soon as the cool air hits you, you shiver, your hands sliding from his hair to hold yourself up by his shoulders.

His eyes were glued to you, dark and hungry.

“Aren’t you so pretty?” He says as his hands toy at the edge of your panties. “I’d have done this sooner if I knew how cute you looked all flushed like this.” He teases lightly, smiling.

He doesn’t let you respond before he’s moved on to kissing under your jaw. Your heart jumps at his words, kickstarting a fast pace in your chest. He seems to know this, his eyes glancing at your face and the blush that spreads across your face. Your body temperature raises a million more degrees at the quirk of his brows. And all he’s done is kiss you. His breath is hot, burning you alive.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as his lips stall against your skin, one of his hands dipping between your thighs, experimentally brushing over your clothed cunt. A soft moan escapes you as he circles his finger over your clit, rolling your hips against his hand.

“Fuck,” You grip at the fabric of his hood, grinding on his palm.

“Feels good?” The man laughs, his smile still curled on his lips when you nod a little too eager. His free hand takes hold of your chin, gentle but firm as he pulls you into a kiss. You melt against him, whining as he continues his ministrations over the thin cotton. Childe uses your reactions as a map, his quick learning apparently applicable here as well.

If you weren’t lost in the stimulation he was providing, you might feel embarrassed. Your hips buck every now and then, your mouth hanging open in pants and gasps, noises that Childe happily drinks up, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. You were thankful for how long the recording had run that night, assured that no one else was on this floor and could possibly hear your noises through all of the walls separating the two of you from the hallway.

Your head is stuffed with cotton clouds, your body moving on instinct, when the ginger stills his hand against your clit, pressing harshly on the bundle of nerves. “Ahf–what the fuck,” Your forehead rests against his, stuttering your hips as your incoming orgasm comes to a screeching halt. Your breaths intermingle as he smiles, smoothing his hand over the back of your head.

“Calm down, baby,” Childe coos in a mockingly sweet tone, laughing as you pinch his bicep in retaliation. For all the teasing he’s doing, you can tell he’s just as affected as you, his eyes lidded and his ears a bright red.

“You’re the worst,” The venom in your voice is gone. You know you don’t actually mean it. You wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t. The man hums, amused by your attitude.

“‘M sure I am,” He groans against your mouth, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. The cotton stretches around your thighs, but you’re too buzzed by his proximity to fully discard them, and he’s too eager to feel you. Childe is still kissing you senseless, your mouth hanging open as he drags his fingers through the slick of your folds, toying with your clit again before sinking two fingers inside you.

You reward him with a whine, your fists clenched tightly in the fabric of his hoodie. And, god, it’s addicting. The way he reacts to your body, shuddering and swallowing your quiet moans, like getting you off is his only life’s goal.

You understand why so many girls feel enraptured with him.

Your hips roll against his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. “Oh fuck,” Your blood is pumping even quicker, a loud drum in your ears as you chase the high. He’s stretching you so well, thrusting at a steady pace while you ride his hand like it’s the last time you’ll ever experience this kind of pleasure. It might as well be, the way you’re on fire for him. The way his lips latch onto the juncture of your neck and shoulders, whispering praises. His thumb works in tandem with his fingers to circle your clit messily, his other hand tight on your waist, guiding your rhythm or palming your chest over the thin shirt.

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, yes–Childe,” You blabber mindlessly, high and floating. This burning, this tension, this tightrope you’ve both been walking converges all into this moment, and you’re suddenly forgetting anything prior to this. It’s just you and Childe as he fucks you with his fingers, leaving bites and hot kisses all over your body.

He groans against your chest, feeling the way you tighten around him, you’re body picking up pace as your hips bounce erratically on his fingers. You’re chasing your high, too heady to care how eager or desperate you look.

You don’t care.

You want this, you want him.

“Childe, Childe, Childe, need to cum–” You moan and hold tighter onto his shoulders, white knuckling. Your thighs are burning, and your stomach feels tight with your oncoming orgasm, a tightening precipice edging closer with every curl of his index and middle finger. He nods, wordlessly focusing his efforts on fucking you faster, and deeper, massaging your clit.

Your body is buzzing with the stimulation. You fail to form full words, babbling mindlessly between pants and whines and other ungodly noises. It falls from your lips freely, and Childe soaks it all in like it’s his favorite song.

Who fucking knew how irresistable you sounded like this?

He holds your hips even tighter the closer you get, helping you to move your hips. And it crashes over you quick and dirty, white-hot electric as the feeling courses through your veins. It’s everything and it’s better than your fantasies could ever give you, and in an instant it’s crashing through your entire system, washing over you and fizzling out almost as quickly as it came. Your body is buzzing, whirring as you whine pathetically, still riding his fingers as he rides you through the motions.

Childe kisses your neck as you come down, your head falling back. Your chest heaves, your fingers flexing in his hoodie once again. “Such a good girl, and you look so pretty,” He compliments in a sweet voice, dripping with honey as he helps you come back down.

It isn’t until your breathing has returned semi-normal again that he finally pulls his fingers out, his hand stroking your jaw. “You did so good for me, hm?” He strokes your chin with his thumb, sliding up to your bottom lips. Glossy and swollen from his kisses and tongue. They part easily for him. “Want to clean me up, princess?” The mocking in his tone returns but you can’t deny this time that it does something to you.

Your eyes are low, and you eagerly tilt your head, taking his fingers in your mouth. Warm and inviting as your tongue slides over his digits, your eyes locked in his.

“Good girl,” He coos. Pride swells in your chest.

“Need you now,” You say once he’s sufficiently clean. Childe tilts his head adoringly. His faux cute voice and his charming boyish-ness contrast the cocky attitude he has on display, but you can’t get enough. You need this like you need nicotine in your veins, a whole new drug to fuel your system when he taunts and riles you up. All with a sweet smile that has your knees weak.

“What do you mean, baby?” His voice is low, casual like he’s talking normally to you. You loop your arms around his neck and lean forward, pressing your chest to his. He tilts his head up, face-to-face as your noses brush. You can tell he’s just as addicted to you. His eyes glimmering bright, his cheeks and ears flushed a bright tomato red.

And the tent in his sweats helps clue you in, too.

“Need you inside me, baby,” You whisper husky, dropping a hand to drift over the toned planes of his chest, feeling him even through the hoodie. And damn, if he looked as good as he felt, you hoped you got another chance for this. Childe chuckles, charmed by your actions. “Get this off first,”

He squeezes your thigh affectionately. “Yes, ma’am,” His reply is semi sarcastic and you roll your eyes, playing into this dynamic. Both of you are amused, the corners of your mouths fighting off smiles while he pulls off his hoodie and shirt.

“Mmm,” You hum appreciatively as he exposes his torso, your eyes raking over his form. The curves and dips of his chest to his stomach, to the v-line dipping below his sweatpants. He’s built, and you can tell he’s strong just by the look of him. The muscles of his stomach flex with every breath. You let your hand trail down his skin, tapping on the freckles painting his skin, connecting the dots all the way down to his waistband.

“Take ‘em off, pretty,” He encourages, lifting his hips. His hands are still planted firmly on your thighs. No, this was a job for you to do.

You pull at the elastic of his sweatpants until they come undone, glancing between his face and his body. He was a god-given specimen. Much as you may not have wanted to initially admit it to yourself. Childe was attractive, and he earned that acknowledgment from you. You’re biting your lips, hungry as you pull his waistband down just enough to free his hard-on.

“Fuck,” A quiet groan escapes your parted lips, your hand circling around his cock. He grips your thighs tighter just slightly. Whimpering, his hips nearly buck up as you experimentally twist your wrist just slightly. “Sensitive,” You comment, taking your own turn to tease him.

“Fuck–always am with you,” He’s melting against the chair as he groans that, falling apart on your featherlight touches, stroking his tip down to the base. Painfully slow, torturous even. You hum, tightening your hold around him just slightly, a wicked smile on your face when he whines and bucks his hips. “Feel-feels good, baby,” He manages to get out.

“Yeah?” You’re purring as you continue your motions, but you don’t go faster.

Instead, you lift yourself up just slightly, balancing on his shoulder with your free hand. You line up his cock with your eager hole, already so wet and ready for him. You roll your hips against his tip. You swear you see his brain short circuit, a weird sound catching in his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a gasp.

“W-wait,” He blinks his eyes open slightly, his hands sliding up to your waist. “Condom,” He motions his head in the direction of his bag. You blink once or twice as you realise what he’s saying.

“R-right,” You lean forward to kiss him before you climb off, managing to get over to his bag without stumbling. You couldn’t put this off, but you were going to be responsible at the very least, goddammit.

Returning with the condom, you take your place on his lap. He reaches for the condom package but you hold it above your head. “Hands off, pretty boy,”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty,” Childe bats his lashes, falling back in his seat. You shake your head, swallowing while his hands smooth over your hips and waist, reassuring and grounding touches. You rip open the package and roll it over his hard dick, rolling your wrist to get him worked up again. He smiles into the next groan he lets out, bliss rocking through his body.

Then you lower onto his cock, spreading your thighs as much as the chair will allow as you take him into your eager cunt. Your walls flutter around the width of him. Even with his fingers stretching you and your own experiences, Childe is still big. He fills you up, sending shivers across your body as you sink inch-by-inch.

A chest-deep moan escapes the man as your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in. “Holy shit,” He grunts, one of his hands gripping the arm of his chair. It takes everything in him not to move his hips, desperately wanting to bury himself in your warmth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. You should’ve done this sooner. You’re both gone as you finally sink down, breathless again as you bottom out on his length. You’ve never felt this full. You feel like you’re on cloud nine and you haven’t even moved. Childe doesn’t try to rush you as you adjust to him, panting with your head on his shoulder and squeezing his biceps.

“Good?” He questions softly, and you nod against his neck.

“Good,” You mumble, “So fucking good,” He hums in response, massaging your waist.

When you finally move, he whimpers again, holding onto you like a lifeline as you swirl your hips, sinking down. Lift, fall, lift, fall. You set a rhythm slowly, picking up pace as you feel the way he pushes into you again and again, hitting that deep spongy spot inside you, filling up your wet cunt, stretching you so very deliciously.

This is better than cocaine (not that you’ve ever done that).

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Childe encourages. “Fuck, fuck–fuck,” He curses over and over while you ride him, going faster now, squeezing him tight. Your pussy has a vice grip on his cock, dragging him in. He desperately lifts his hips to meet every drop of yours, thrusting up into you and making you bounce. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good–” Childe smooths his hands over your spine, kneading the fat of your ass, squeezing your thighs.

He can’t keep his hands off you, and he can’t keep his mouth from running, his thoughts unfiltered and filthy as you ride his cock like a carousel ride. He’s a goner, his head swimming with clouds, lust blinding every sense and moral he might’ve had. All he knows, all he cares about, is fucking you stupid.

“Ahf, please– Childe,fuckfuck–fuck!” You squeal and roll your hips, moaning and panting against his clammy skin, electrified by his actions. You can feel another orgasm building inside you, that cord pulling into a knot with every thrust of his cock against that sweet spot. “Please, need to cum, baby, need to come on your cock, pleaseplease,” You feed into his own sinful encouragements, repeating it like a mantra as you desperately buck your hips, whining when he thrusts up into you, fucking you extra full.

The both of you pant and moan, closer and closer to that precipice of euphoria as your orgasms build. Childe still manages to speak but you fall to notice, getting louder and more incoherent between his broken whines and cries of ‘how good you take me’ and ‘such a pretty little face’. You can tell he’s getting close now as he slumps back in his seat, his hands a bruising iron-grip on your ass as he holds you in place, mustering all of his remaining strength to fuck you again and again and again.

He gives you little warning of his orgasm, and yours follows just seconds after as you roll and circle your hips, your toes curling and your thighs clenching around his hips. A load moan falls from your lips and your body stutters as your second orgasm watces over you, your pussy clenching tight on his hard cock.

Childe’s gone in a second, cumming so fast and hard, he sees stars in his vision, his body moving on instinct as he slows down. His jaw goes slack and he pants out over his orgasm, the current setting his nerves on fire coming in waves before it calms down. You ride out your highs together, panting and sweaty and hot, but neither of you moves for a long time.

***

You collapse against his chest, blinking back unshed tears from your screwed shut eyes, bliss stuffing your head full of cotton still. Childe stares up at the ceiling for a moment, allowing you both the moment to recollect yourselves. When he’s sure his heart isn’t going to burst out of his chest and run down the hallway screaming bloody murder, his arms circle around you. He brushes some hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear, causing you to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“You good?” He asks, quirking his brow curiously. You can only smile, pleased, a quiet hum in your throat. But he catches it and the way it rattles in your chest, rumbling in his as well like an echo. He chuckles and rubs your back soothingly, his hand underneath your shirt but not uncomfortably. He seems satisfied with what transpired.

Truthfully, you are too.

“You know…” He leans his cheek on his shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a girl like that,” He admits.

“Ah, you’re not going to fall in love with me because of this, are you?” You tease, squeezing his bicep as if to let him know you’re just playing a joke. He laughs and tickles the space just beneath your shoulder blades, conjuring a shiver that has your body tingling. He looks over your face, taking you in and all of your features, before he looks at the wall.

“If you… feel that way again, I don’t mind helping out..” He tells you after a few more seconds, staring at the desk of equipment. He doesn’t meet your eyes until you sit up a little bit, looking at him curiously. “I’m serious,” He adds. “Clearly you enjoy it, and I do too,” He glances over the both of you, his eyes noticeably staring at the curve of you, the plush of your thighs, the fat of your stomach, the curve of your chest and your waist. And, he stares at where you two are still connected.

Your face feels warm and you look away. “Point,” Is all you respond…

After that, you both calm down and shuffle into getting dressed. You don’t respond outwardly to his promise, but it sticks in the back of your mind as you shimmy back into your shorts, turning your back on him politely as he fixes his sweats and pulls his hoodie back on. The air is shifted between you two, no longer thick with tension and not uncomfortable but… different.

You finish cleaning up, spraying a couple spritz of your perfume to hide your deeds and activities before you both lock up and head to your cars. Much like the night at the bar, this one doesn’t leave your mind, and you can’t help but wonder if you did the right thing…

———

A/Ns: sooo... y/n and childe huh? anyway y'all like the color blue? lmaoooo this chapter took a bit to write cuz i was lowk struggling but anyway i hope its still enjoyable !! likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget i love you <33

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore @monocerosei @dontmindtheevie @kittywagun @yumidepain

[amypihcs]

Mr Sherlock Holmes (2.0 - der Doppelgänger)

Here we go! It's sunday and ready for some more hound of the Baskervilles! Of course, put on your yaoi goggles!

First of all, Holmes and Watson had a very nice little date at the picture gallery

And Watson, honest man as he is, cares to inform us about his beloved's shortcomings about art. I'm sure they often joke about it!

Now back to work! Just gossiping with the Hotel's reception

Not gossiping, ofc, GETTING INFORMATION. You can't change my mind on Holmes being one of the best gossips in London when he feels like that!

Now we did get some int- WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING NOW?!

They nicked ANOTHER boot?!

They did!

well, someone stops the american, pls?

We have a CASE to solve! And Holmes is so, so happy and invested! all very nice!

NOW. Sir Henry decided to go to Devonshire at the end. And there's nothing we can do about it. But still we have to put set stuff straight. Like, you know you're dogged, right?

DOGGED?! WHAT? BY WHO?! W- AAAH

Okay, do write this telegram, there's noooothing that can go wrong!

BTW, -getting some tea-, tell me about this Barrymore!

LET ME GET THAT AMERICAN BASTARD'S NECK I'LL TIE IT INTO KNOT.

SPOILED RICH BRAT, NEVER HAD TO CARE FOR A FLAT, HAVE YOU? YOU'D KNOW THAT EVEN KEEPING SUCH A HALL LIVABLE TAKES ONE HECK OF A JOB YOU- -i am forcibly shut down-

Now inquiring for a motive.

Mortimer, lad. That is suspicious to say. a lot. That is EXACTLY Holmes' job and he's doing it WELL! How much money did Sir Charles have at the end?

Holmes and Watson both going 'the hell? do people with so much money EXIST?!'

As Jeremy reminds us:

And it DOES! That's one hell of a motive! It's close to a million of motives!

NOW! You SHOULD go, sir Henry, but not alone!

And i SURE can't come... i am... BUSY, YES, SOOOO BUSY!

They agree for leaving on Saturday and the investigation goes ooooon! Two telegrams arrive to prove that two ideas can't work and yes, let's take it PHILOSOPHICALLY!

We still have one more threat in our hands! -Holmes giving Watson tiny kisses -

Here's the third thread!

Nothing against you my man! Just few answers, you had a guy on with you, yes, right. Ah, he said he was a detective.

Anything else?

WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING HELL?!

Okay. Damn. Okay. Time to send in some fencing metaphors! Damn. three on three gone!

it IS an ugly and dangerous busyness. Holmes will be very very worried until it won't be solved. everything will be well!

We'll see how it'll go in the next episode!

[wyvernquill]

what are your top 5 armandaniel moments from the show? :D

Ah, thank you very much for the ask! Let's see...

#1 - s2ep2, The Lestat-as-co-founder-of-the-Theatre reveal moment, with Daniel putting on the telenovela music and Armand listing some of his other 'conquests' - they're totally messing with each other here, it's petty and weird and theatrical and I grin every time. Honorable mention to the potential for "you shared a boyfriend!" to get very ironic if more Armand/Daniel happened in the past, and also Louis sitting there going "...did you!?" at Armand's story about "Now, Voyager". I don't know, it's just very funny, says a lot about both of them really, and I like it when a ship does A Bit, either together or, like here, *against* each other.

#2 - s2ep6, The argument over the San Francisco memories. As opposed to my #1, this one's raw and bitter and tense (they're still messing with each other, but the stakes are higher and the attacks more vicious...), and I love it very much. "I didn't forgive you" and "why did I owe ~YOU~ my one act of cowardice?" are lines that hit very hard, I enjoy how Daniel keeps not buying the excuses even as Louis begins wavering, even though Armand directed most of them at Daniel to start with... it's a very interesting and powerful scene showcasing the shifting dynamics of these three, and I once more like the potential for recontextualisation if Armand and Daniel have more history than previously advertised.

#3 - s2ep5, All of it, really. Obvious choice maybe, but oh well. I love the juxtaposition of the dramatic past and Louis and Daniel putting their feet into the rock garden in the present, the new angles we see of the characters in a memory of the past that *isn't* very carefully curated for interview purposes, and, I mean, "I could be on my knees in a second" - >small nod to force him to his knees<...

#4 - s1ep7, The reveal, particularly Armand floating so Daniel has to stare up at him. It's a nice mirror to the power dynamic and positioning we see in s2ep5, and overall just a wonderfully dramatic scene with Armand removing his disguise in the back while Daniel is ripping into Louis. The theatralics of it all are very *Armand,* and Daniel being struck nearly speechless by surprise (and maybe awe? something else?) for once is also great, though we all know he's just gearing up to tear into Armand too in s2.

#5 - s1ep6, Daniel dreaming of first meeting Louis in Polynesian Mary's... but, gasp! Inexplicably, 'Rashid' is there, too! And meanwhile, in the waking world, 'Rashid' is probably busy tucking a blanket over Daniel while he sleeps. Honestly I just love the flashback, Daniel and Louis' semi-flirting, the way it sets up the reveal in the next episode, and, well. I do like to imagine that the blanket-tucking was done by Armand and was oddly tender. I just think the whole thing's neat.

I probably forgot a number of moments I really enjoyed, but, well, these were the first five I could think of! Louis has snuck into a lot of them, but that is unsurprising, at least in s1 and s2 all three of them are very tangled up in each other, and it's difficult to pick a moment with two of them that doesn't involve the third somehow (except maybe the Loumand scenes in the past, but they narrate those to Daniel, so...) Looking forward to seeing those dynamics shaken up in s3, I suppose! (also, Devil's Minion in the past, pls? Chase, pls? Pls?)

[collapsedglasshouses]

An Angel For Noah || Noah Sebastian x OC [Part 2]

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @cafekitsune

PART ONE

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x Jules (she/her)

SUMMARY: Jules knew it would be hard to start her journey as an guardian angel, but the harder part was to let go of her past...

WARNINGS: mentions of panic/anxiety attacks, mentions of blood, swearing, (let me know if i missed something)

A/N: Let me just start with this: AAAAAAAH... thank you... Okay, let's just say this, I cried a little while writing this... This fanfic is gonna break me into pieces, but I can't suffer alone so here is part 2...

TAGLIST: @trvshdxddy @blackveilomens (if you wanna be added, pls let me know in the comments)

Keep in mind, this takes place in an alternative universe. Even though I write about real people, the way I write them has nothing to do with how they are in real life.

Jules took a deep breath and stared ahead of her. She didn't even know what to do now. Keaton had given her a name and where to find that guy. Noah Sebastian, singer of a metal core band called "Bad Omens", was living somewhere in this street and her first task was to find him.

Jules swallowed hard. She knew Keaton said, it would be easy and how guardian angels are always similar to the person, they need to protect, but at this moment, she couldn't think of a single thing she should have in common with this Noah guy.

She had been a violinist for most of her live, had been what people described as prude or boring and always obeyed to her parents rules. Literally everything she wouldn't think, when thinking of a metal band member.

She never had been a big fan of the harder kinds of music, calling herself a die hard Swiftie, during her short lifetime. The life size cardboard cutout of Harry Styles that was probably still standing in her bedroom couldn't have agreed more to that.

She sighed while walking down the street. She asked herself if Keaton couldn't have been a bit more precise with his explanations and instructions, when she walked up to the third door and didn't read the names she was looking for. It bugged her that she couldn't just pull out her phone to type in the address and she found it rather bold from those angels that they hadn't given her some kind of device or powers to make it easier for her to find her target. What made her even more mad was, when she realised she couldn't fly. She felt robbed. She was literally just an invisible spirit with a task to fulfill that wasn't just finding her well deserved peace.

She couldn't do anything cool and she was literally invisible to everything and everyone.

She stopped in her tracks, when she realised that. She was in fact invisible. How the hell was she supposed to help Noah, if he can't even see her? Was he even allowed to see her? She felt like she was part of an episode of Supernatural and was about to meet the Winchester brothers.

When she started to walk again, she let her gaze wander over the houses. At least she would be in a good neighborhood. Not like she had to worry about being kidnapped anymore (you know, the sad things women need to worry about) but it was still somehow calming her nerves a bit.

When she walked up to the fourth house, she finally read the last names Keaton had told her about. She was about to be pleased with her work, when she notices the next problem.

What now?

She couldn't just ring the bell and show herself.

Like...

Hey, I'm your guardian angel, your friend Keaton sent me.

She was pretty sure, she couldn't even show herself at all.

Jules let out an frustrated groan, before looking around, trying to find another way to get into the house. Sadly she had also learned the hard way, that she couldn't walk through walls, when she tried it about an hour ago.

She snuck around the house, just to find a fence, she definitely couldn't just climb over. She sighed again and looked at the building. It looked like a typical upper class house in Los Angeles. At least it looked like their music was starting to pay off.

She still tried to climb up the high fence and if she would have still been alive she definitely would have broken at least a bone.

"Why can't I just fly!" She screamed out in agony. "This is such bullshit."

While she continued to mutter out profanities and tried to climb up the fence, the front door opened and none other than Folio and Davis step out of it.

She stopped in her tracks, when she heard their voices.

"I thought Noah already went grocery shopping with Ruffilo?" She heard one of the guys say and was sure she almost reach high speed after hearing that name while sprinting to the door. She saw two men, one with with short dark hair and one with long hair and a streak of grey in it.

"Nah, Noah was in the studio all day and Nick drove to his girlfriend. I think that's on us today." The man with the grey streak in his hair answered, while fidgeting with his car keys.

She couldn't concentrate on their conversation any longer, her only goal being to slip into the house as fast as possible before it was closed again. Right before the second guy got the chance to lock her out again, she, again, ran as fast as she could and soon found herself standing inside the house. She literally felt like an intruder.

So, where is he? She thought to herself and carefully looked around the room, she was standing in. It was the living room. To her right was a staircase. When she heard some noise from above, she decided it would be best to go after it.

She took her first steps really quietly until she released that nobody would hear her, so her steps became a bit more eager. Quickly, she found the room the noise was coming from and to her luck and surprise, the door to the room stood slightly open. Just far enough that she would fit through.

From the inside, she heard someone singing quietly. She felt the goose bumps creeping up her arms and instantly knew without a doubt, that she would find the person she was looking for inside this room.

When the guy stopped for a second, she carefully made her way inside the small studio and took a first glance at the person she would protect from now on. When her eyes laid on him, she felt something inside of her, she never felt before. A feeling she couldn't quiet describe. There were no words in the world for the pureness she felt when her eyes laid on him. Something inside her just clicked and she knew she needed to be close to him.

She took a careful step towards him and took in his form. He was sitting there and played some soft tunes on a keyboard that was connected to his computer. His ears were covered with headphones. From her perspective, she could get a quick glance at his tattooed neck. A hand grabbing an apple and a snake wrapping around said apple perfectly. A clear reference to the story of Adam and Eve.

When he began to sing again, she felt herself drawn even closer to his presence and without even thinking she stepped next to him to get a better look of his face.

He had really beautiful dark eyes and if you looked close enough, you could notice the small freckles on his face. In this moment she was more than glad that he couldn't see her, because she was creepily leaning on the desk to see him better.

Than for a brief second his eyes shot in her direction. That almost made her fall over in shock. She held her chest when she backed away from him. For a moment she legitimately thought, he had looked her dead in the eyes. When her breath finally started to settle again, she noticed it must have been a coincidence, because when she dared to look at him again, he had gone back to his normal position.

At this moment she realised, how bizarre this whole thing really was. She was sitting in the room of a singer, who she hadn't seen or heard of before and was literally as dead as it gets. She stared at a stranger, while just being a fucking spirit in his room.

She wiped over her face in disbelief, before starting to walk up and down his room, while he was humming a melody. She had a feeling, like she couldn't breathe anymore. She was fucking dead. Her live on earth was over.

How the hell was she fitting to be a guardian angel? She didn't have a good attention span and now was suppose to watch a stranger's every move.

Why couldn't she just have her well deserved rest? She was fucking run over by a car. She hadn't even had her first relationship before she died. Why didn't her grandpa just babysit Noah? He had literally 70 years more of life than she had.

When Noah stood up from his spot, Jules was in tears. It was so unfair. Why her? What did she do to deserve this? She was a literal Straight A student, had good friends and did her utter best. Tried to be as perfect as possible. But nothing mattered anymore. Nobody would remember her and the afterlife was cruel enough to not give her some rest.

Noah made his way out of the small studio, but Jules couldn't get up. Her thoughts just didn't stop. She just wanted to go. She wanted to go back.

She couldn't even think about her parents, her chest starting to burn when she thought of them. They showed her nothing but love throughout her life and right now she had a feeling, like she never appreciated them in the slightest. While she was grateful for everything, she still thought far too often that everything in her life was simply given to her. Her parents worked their asses of for her to get the opportunity to go to Juilliard and she was so dumb to get run over by a car, because her phone was that much more important.

With that it was over for her. It felt like someone was clutching her throat. She couldn't take full breaths anymore. Her mind started to race even faster, while her tears felt like literal lava on her skin. She wanted to go back. Wake up in that hospital bed. See her family. Hold their hands. Never let them go. She couldn't do this. How the hell was she supposed to do this?

She cradled her head in her hands and laid on the floor in fetal position, when suddenly...

It was warmer around her. She instantly was able to breathe again. She opened her eyes and found herself back in that white room, where she landed after her grandpa talked to her.

She sat up and looked around.

Next to her sat Keaton.

"What's going on, Jules?" He asked her and stroked her back reassuring. Tears were still running down her cheeks.

"I can't do it, Keaton." She cried out so quietly, Keaton almost didn't hear her. "Why are you even here? Aren't you suppose to protect your people?"

"You are one of my people." He quickly told her. "Just because you are as dead as me, doesn't mean you don't need someone looking over you."

Her heart warmed with that statement. She couldn't believe her ears. Never had she felt so save like she did with him next to her. He made her feel save.

"How am I suppose to help Noah, when I couldn't even help myself?" She asked with a raspy voice.

"You can do it, believe me. I could do it too." He reassured her. "I thought I couldn't do it myself and look at me now. Sitting next to the girl I should have protected." He laughed bitterly. "It's okay to fail. It is more important to know you tried."

She saw how his eyes became watery and quickly reached out to put her arms around him. When he hugged Jules back, it was everything the both needed to go on. For the moment, she didn't want to let go of him, knowing the seriousness of their task would come back soon after. But suddenly...

... Jules heard a shattering noise from downstairs and was quickly snapped out of her thoughts and the save room. She set in the studio for a second. But without even thinking she found herself next to Noah.

She looked around her and was shook to see she teleported herself right next to him. Tears were still streaming down her face, but she immediately looked for Noah, who was now bent over the sink and rinsed his finger, which he cut. He was muttering profanities under his breath, while Jules still tried to contain her cries.

She knew she needed to get over this. It was hard, but this was her life now, if you could even call it that. This was her existence now and she needed to make sure Noah would be save.

She couldn't fail him too.

READ PART THREE HERE.

[luckyqueenreign]

I’m so annoyed with the one size fits all way fb does casa amor. For us Ozzy girls or even the LJR girls the game seems to forget that you’ve ever had a connection with anyone outside of Elliot. Why did the girls ask me 178 times my thoughts on Elliot?! Idc about that man!! My mc literally kissed Ozzy on her way out and no one goes oh maybe that’s who you like?? I know I’m gonna have to switch we don’t need the constant reminders and check ins. Any sane person in MCs position would switch since were not coupled with who we want to be with…Elliot thinks he’s single and mc is at home.. why would he come back from casa single knowing this is a show where you need to be coupled up??

also SIX episodes and we still haven’t left casa?! get me out of here pls!! This also means next week we will get zero time with who we actually want bc we have the recoupling episode which is prob going to be the second episode. First I think will be the girls discussing the postcard and surprise surprise the girls are gonna ask for the millionth time if we’re switching or not. There will be a last ditch effort from the guy you’re being forced to recouple with…even though we all know he’s coming back regardless. Second episode will be recoupling and for us Ozzy girlies I can’t imagine that they’re going to let Ozzy even speak to us bc we have to talk to LJR first who’s also obsessed with us. MAYBE we’ll get to speak to Ozzy in the third episode but I’m not gonna hold my breath. So basically let the angst begin…

[half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk]

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 10 omg and 10 days until s3 👀

Lets go batchers 🤟

The Bad Batch 1x06

I love reading the aurebesh signs hehe

Omega nearly takes out a stranger and literally goes "teehee oopsie" I love her sm

Echo teaching her how to shoot 🥺

HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER 😭

Wrecker: "not exactly a natural is she" Hunter: *vague nod/shrug thing* 💀

I'd love to shoo cid out of the bar "scram" @ cid

Tech is playing arcade games !!!! 👀

"I assume you know what a tactical droid is" *3 voted yes, Omega voted no, Tech panicked*

I used to think cid telling the batch they work for her was a kinda funny scene but rewatching it now knowing what I know it just infuriates me 😡

"weak noodle arms" SHES JUST A BABY

"this old trick?" hehe like the one Han did in ESB 👀

"that's your plan? fly there, land, hope they don't spot us and walk in the door?" ~ Obi-Wan about Anakin's plan - me pretending Echo learned this from Anakin 🥺

poor Wrecker with heights, he's so brave fr I'm very proud 💕

"nighty night" 🤣

everyone is probably gonna hate me for saying this buuuuttt... I kinda wanna see more Martez sisters after this episode lol

Rafa: "grab a weapon" Omega: "I had one 😑"

y'all the banter between Hunter and Rafa 👀 the way he walks behind her with both blasters out

THE FLIP AND ROLL OMEGA DOES TO GRAB THE DROID HEAD !!!

"thanks" hehehe she's so cheeky

sibling banter

YOU'VE GOT THIS WRECKER 👑

Wrecker hits his head count: 7 👀

and he just got shot in the same place on his shoulder for the third time 🙃

"Good soldiers-" screaming sobbing exploding into another dimension

HELP HER TRACE

Omega screaming for Hunter 😭

plus Hunter's "hang on Omega!" *checking myself into therapy*

Hunter literally swinging in to save Omega like he's tarzan 👑

that "thank you" was SO sincere I'm going to go cry my eyes out forever

Trace grabbed Omega to pull her behind her 🥺

Rafa: "I still don't like you" Hunter: "I'm used to it" 🥲😂

okay but Wrecker fighting the chip, hearing Tech calling for him sounding so concerned, then Crosshair desperately saying "good soldiers follow orders" is incredibly painful to hear... but it's like he's hearing his brothers both desperately calling him to them, Crosshair's voice is like the chip trying to activate, he's frustrated and confused which is probably exactly how Wrecker feels right now, and Tech's voice is trying to bring Wrecker back away from the chip 🥲 like they're both tugging at his brain to go different directions or smth idk I'm emotional about them always

"is there an echo in here?" "Yes, I'm Echo" *salutes* he's just so silly and goofy and I know the domino squad is absolutely cackling rn 😂

Tech's little swirly flip of the datastick like Hunter does with his knife makes me think Tech can also use Hunter's knife and that is something I would love to see pls

Trace has her arm around Omega again! 🤲

Tech is so sneaky hehe

Omega: "it's all about tuning out distractions" SEE CID SHE TOOK ECHOS ADVICE AND NOW SHE'S FINE pfft "weak noodle arms" NO MA'AM

R7 💕💕💕

Omega is so excited about being in a seedy area lmaooo

Omega and Rafa waving at each other as they leave 🥺

Hunter talking about the right reasons I am feeling emotions again

hmm I wonder who this mysterious person on the holo could possibly be 🤔🤔🤔

yayyyy episide 6 done y'alls 💕 thanks for joining again ilysm

I'm going to be doing a lot more hehe because I was super busy for a few days and now my timing is off 🙃

see y'all next time for when the fit hits the shan 🤟

[quodekash]

tis friday night, aka the third night in a row im staying up past midnight for a bl and its gonna be like this for the next five weeks so id better get used to the exhaustion (send help), aka ABAAB NIGHT LETS GOOO

threezo my lovelies pls exist this episode

did he get prettier over the last week or did i just forget what he looks like

bc either way this man is very pretty

suspector #1

suspector #2

jack as a gossip icon was a pleasant surprise in this show but im living for it

bro there so tender with each other im gonna cry

i think i forgot what everyone looked like cos every single character feels 10x prettier than they already were (and everyone was already at optimum pretty) and i love it

i love how much more casual gun has become with his employees, it makes me happy

BOY

MY BOY

MY BOY WITH THE EYEBROWS

HELLO DRAKE HOW ARE YOU ON THIS FINE FRIDAY (typing this out at literally 11:59pm so its still friday)

okay its now wednesday but HOW ARE YOU DRAKA SATTABUT LAEDEKE, ILY

his luscious eyebrows are furrowed

in anger

he is angry

ah shoot pls chill bro

MY BOYS THREEZO HELLO

hell yes flashback time, lets get a good insight into the characters so that we can aggressively analyse them later

they always looks so comfy with each other what the hell

bRO you fell asleep ON THE BEACH?? what if high tide had caught up to them? they wouldve drowned in their sleep

nice visual (but soundwin did it first btw)

there are people already swimming.

these people walked past these two grown-ass men sleeping on the sand on the beach, fast asleep, in formal button-up shirts, where theyd clearly been all night. and no one said anything.

you can do it you luscious locked lovely boi, i believe in you

(you thought you were free from the obsession of the hair but you were WRONG, his hair is now and forever and always and all of time)

im just now noticing his earrings, that's awesome

the hair look at the hair look at his hair i love his hair

FLUFFY FLUFFY HAIR

THREEZOTHREEZO

i love them i love them i love them i love them

THE LAYERS TO THIS

HIS SERIOUS EXPRESSION

SAYING 'MY BOYFRIEND ZO' INSTEAD OF JUST ZO, SO THAT EVERYONE KNOWS THEYRE DATING JUST IN CASE ANYONE FORGOT

AND KNOWING ZO'S FAVOURITE RJIDGFNRN

absolutely he does

IM DYING

i freaking love jack so much

he knows what's going on between them. and he loves and appreciates and accepts it, but he's been getting so much pressure from the other workers to talk to cher because theyre friends, and he doesnt want to invade but he doesn't want anything bad to happen to either his friend or his boss

why is the man so pretty

i genuinely dont understand it, this man and his hair are so pretty

"i used to have a lover too. i know how painful it is to lose someone." BRO WHAT THE HELL??? WE WERE NOT TOLD THIS INFORMATION, PLEASE EXPAND UPON THIS

snack is good. yummy nom noms. eat them eat them you eat them and then poop them out yum yum yum

i need to go to bed

i love him probably too much

BISEXUAL SITTING??

noooo we barely got any threezo todayyy (if i were more awake id be outraged by this but im having trouble just keeping my head up so i'll get to that anger in the morning)

im surprised we didnt get a sponsorship for cleaning gun's punch wound

anyway ive been on the verge of falling asleep this whole episode so im gonna go to sleep now and hopefully catch up on three days of not-enough-sleep

goodnight folks!

[storiesofsvu]

happy thursday! thoughts under the cut!

Okay, here we go! we’re back!! We’re BACK!!

And for some reason citytv is finally airing them in a more correct order, though mine thinks I’m on the east coast and is starting now. Mothership first so we all know I might not pay too much attention.

Woof what a cold open…

Jesus christ why is it always Hudson U

Who’s this new detective? Did we get rid of one of the white men I didn’t like? Lol. Oh.. we did… good lol.

Det shaw is so fucking hot.

Nov 10th?? Don’t they usually keep the time stamps pretty accurate to when they air?

Uugggghhh Samantha I have missed yoooouuuu. Glad to see she’s handling the arraignment herself this time, let’s give her more of that pls.

God this chloe girl’s annoying

That stiletto tape holder on sam’s desk came from rita, I know it in my soul. (it also came with a custom pair of manolos…)

Oh shit…

Yeah I dunno how I feel about this new cop either…

Ugh I just love that maroon suit

**

Svu time

BABY BENSON!!!!!!!!!!

Okay I like starting s25 off like this.

Loving that liv is back in her black nail polish era. It’s prime

Velasco being the one of the squad without his own kids/being the youngest and being the one dunked with babysitting duty and loving every moment of it is perfection.

Omg all of them fighting over the baby. lol.

Where tf are all the rest of the carisi’s? or amanda’s mom? Isn’t she in nyc now??

“maybe we could adopt each other…he could use a brother, too many sisters LOL omg noah

I’m not saying liv should’ve like, pulled a u-turn and immediately gone after the van, esp with noah in the car, but she knew in her gut something was off, memorizing a plate number probably would’ve been a good idea.

ALSO WHILE WE’RE HERE. I’M FUCKING SALTY ABOUT CHURLISH. WHAT THE FUCK. (especially if there isn’t a single mention of her in this episode/where she’s gone.)

Oh Velasco… baby boi, I have missed you

Does Bruno have a medical alert bracelet on? And if so is that his or is that the actors?

Okay, at least Velasco was smart enough to keep hands on the perp instead of letting him run off like they normally do.

What the FUCK is going on?

Why am I still watching this show? LOL

 Okay, see, this is the kind of amanda content I want to see, her popping up every so often in her professor role/mother/wife role, or just showing up to give carisi lunch kinda thing, not full time, not back on the force cause ESP after having a third kid there’s no way she’s coming back to be a cop.

The way olivia didn’t even bother to run cause she knew he wasn’t going far LOL, just all “bro, you’re gonna hurt yourself, and don’t make me hurt you…”

Okay but is olivia wearing the bracelet that she found in the van? (cause that should be in an evidence bag) or is she wearing one from one of the dolls? (cause that should also be evidence? And is lowkey weird…)

Have I just missed them or have there not been any/a lot of the dun-dun’s/time stamps, cause like…how long has madi been missing? How long have we been looking for her cause there’s no way that they kidnap her, make her into a doll, and make THAT many of them and produce them/that many people bought them in like a day or two….

Okay… we’re lacking detectives, with muncy and churlish gone is this new blonde gonna be joining the team? Will she last more than one season on the show?

God the politics side of jobs like this are infuriating

Okay imma assume that we’re gonna retouch on the case next week?  Cause that REALLY wasn’t a solid wrap up, like I get the metaphorical idea to it, but that coulda been done so much better.

Episode was meh overall.

*

OC time, yay! It really is playing them in order. Now if only the subtitles would fucking work. I’m so congested too, that’s not helping lol.

This theme song is the best out of all of them and I will die on this hill.

Oh right, we’re diving into fucking AI shit. It honestly better end up being a bad thing cause AI will destroy the film industry…

Omg bobby. I love you so much. God the cast of this show is all so incredible.

“god I love not being the boss” LOL

“welcome back detective ive missed you too. Can we take a breath and try that again.” Bell.. seriously… I fucking love you. How v Donnelly of her.

I absolutely love that bell isn’t afraid to call stabler on his shit. Like she is constantly reminding him that *she’s* the boss and we stan her for it.

The writing on this show is SO much better jfc. Jet all “that’s artificial intelligence.” To stabler lolololol

UNDERCOVER JET IS SO FUCKING HOT OMG. And like… ALWAYS not just now, but woof.

If they don’t start diving into more of bell’s personal life this season I will riot. Like, we’ve got out first main cast openly queer character on the show and all they’ve done is break up her marriage and family and rarely touch on it again. Like, does she even get to see her son? (son, right lol) does she ever talk to denise? Are they friendly? Can we PLS see her start to branch out and date again to get some fucking representation cause fuck knows we’re not getting it anywhere else in this universe.

Omg not the piece of fucking duct tape over the apple logo on the back of this dude’s computer LOL.

What was that little shoulder touch? And why was there so much focus on it?? Sus

“you’re just gonna walk into that beehive” ma’am… this is Elliot we’re talking about. You’ve known him three years now, you should know he likes to play by the seat of his pants. AND THE FIRST THING HE DOES IS MAKE DIRECT EYE CONTACT WITH SOMEONE WHO LOOKS IN CHARGE?! DUDE. You’re dumb

Bobby and jet comforting each other and finding that comfort/coping with jamie’s death by fucking each other honestly makes perfect sense.

Okay, as much as I don’t ship eo and absolutely do not want it to be canon, I am thankful for more little mentions of the characters on the other shows. Like it didn’t make sense to bring back Elliot and have all the crossovers that we got and then pretend like they didn’t talk or keep up with what the other was doing in the eps that weren’t crossovers.

Okay. Now that’s done.

Fun fact: randall, this brother that we’re going to meet I now assume last week is being played by Jamie Gray Hyder’s husband. Cause like, I was suuuuper surprised to see Jamie at the 25th anniversary party, like, truly shocked that she would show up until I found this out LOL.

Honestly… SVU was the weak link of the premiers. If we had gotten more cute personal moments at the beginning with the baptism then it would jump up but we barely got any. It really seemed like a two part-er episode and I don’t think it is, or at least not one that will be continued next week. Either way, it was kinda meh.

[rachaelrobin4]

Episode 9 ramblings/review:

ray and sand truly make me sick (but i love khaotung and first so 🤷🏽‍♀️). is it cheating if ray is the rebound? i would say yes, simply because ray is doing even though he’s in ‘love’ with mew / they are in some sort of situationship

they love to pull out that phone to record, huh?

Oh my god…team second option…..that’s so funny and sad lol, pls roommates stand up

every single character makes me sick in the best possible way. like why are you the way you are !! ray stop being a ‘woe is me’ asshole challenge !! mew get ur life together and stop seeking validation in ur relationships !! boston — well that’s just boston so what can you do?

how do mew and ray manage to find every which way to say they should love each other but don’t? eeewwww, no kissing allowed

objectively really funny for nick to post the exact location on that selfie pic, this show is a comedy

the power boston holds, what is it? these men are dickmatized 😭

nick and sand???? like!?? ok, unwell but ok. i knew it was for comedy but at least sand got to kiss more then one person. now everyone has kissed at least 2 people (except cheum lol)

in comes ray to ruin a cute moment 🙄 inserting himself where he’s not wanted.

third threesome request from ray this season, when will gmmtv give it to him?

i obviously don’t condone cheating but the lack of privacy in this show is astounding. very reflective of the times of social media and technology

I can’t help but think of dirty dan hehe

at this point, i just want everyone to be alone. can’t be happy for these couples cause it’s so toxic, but i’ll scream for khaotung and first anyway

glad that’s done, it was torture watching raymew lol. let’s give book and khaotung a round of applause for managing to be the most platonically romantic couple ever

topmew was inevitable but it’s bittersweet, just like everything else

Boeing? The clothes? Glasses? Top has a type? Next week’s preview? I’m going insane

[ladeaeveld]

Thanks! (*/ω＼*)

I got carried away by the train of thought and made my answer a bit too long… So I added a shorter version, too x))

The short answer: the ranks of their cards are just like their titles in the series, and Law is neither King nor Jack but another secret third thing (D.)

The longer answer is under a cut ↓ ಠ_ಠ

I have recently watched Trafalgar's backstory and was inspired by all this Corazones thing and the cards' theme, as it is obviously symbolic of the Donquixote family structure. So I wanted to achieve two main objectives: firstly, show three different subsequent Corazones and point out their differences, and secondly, show them as the subjects of the same structure with a shared past.

I didn't think too long about Doflamingo, Rosinante, and Vergo, as they have obvious associations with Joker and Kings, respectively, from their titles in the series (so rather straightforward here), but there was definitely a struggle with Law :D

The first thought was to make him a King, too, since he was supposed to become one, and it would work well with the symbolism of the succession of Corazon's title. However, on second thought, Law has never become Corazon, so a Jack would suit him more, but it wasn't as beautiful as the idea with three Kings and didn't have such obvious parallels with canon titles. So this created quite a dilemma. Also, I wanted to emphasize Law's rebelliousness and let him escape the Donquixote family, but neither King nor Jack helps achieve that because they are very much a part of the deck's structure. So I decided to take some time and rethink it.

In the end, I came up with the idea of using the initial D. as an index for Law's card. It solved several problems: it plays an important part in this story, it is kind of a title from the series and has associations with rebellion/chaos, it is a single letter, which resembles the index of a card, but at the same time, is not an actual card rank, so it falls outside of the deck's structure, which was just what I wanted to achieve 🤔

So that pretty much wraps my thoughts behind the choice of card ranks! Do you think I managed to achieve the goals I mentioned by this choice? :D Thanks for the question! I would love to read about other interpretations (if any) c:

P.S. I have watched only up to episode 720, so pls, no spoilers (it's an episode that is almost impossible to stop at, but I kinda did that :D I encourage you to go check its events or at least the title of the next episode (721) to understand the situation I am in 🙈 I promise it's worth it)

(ง •_•)ง

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[amporella]

yes pls go into detail on why u think kyle is gay!!! i am an enabler

🥺🥺🥺 BESTIE…. HERE I GO

this came out RIDICULOUSLY long so i’m putting it mostly under a cut

My canon basis from this theory comes from a few different sources, so I’ll go through all of them one by one to try and paint a coherent picture of what I think is really going on with Kyle’s sexuality!

The initial assumption of the average South Park viewer is obviously that Kyle’s straight, or for most of the fandom, bisexual - I mean, why wouldn’t he be? He’s had more female crushes than most of the other kids in the show (Rebecca, Nichole, Heidi, Leslie, and arguably Bebe), which implies that he’s at the very least bisexual - however, I’d argue that Kyle’s plethora of inauthentic, extremely temporary crushes is far more indicative of a deeper issue - compulsory heterosexuality, and his ongoing desire to fit in with his peers. Let me explain:

Every single one of Kyle’s crushes can be explained by something other than romantic desire, and for most of them, this thing is actually quite obvious. The important thing to note here is that unlike Stan’s feelings for Wendy - the prime example of a heterosexual crush in this show - Kyle’s feelings for a girl never seem to sprout out of thin air. There’s almost always something else sparking it. With that in mind, let’s go over each one of Kyle’s crushes, in chronological order.

Bebe is Kyle’s first ‘crush’ - and by crush, I mean the first girl that’s usually brought up in defense of bisexual or straight Kyle. In canon, whether Kyle has feelings for her is never confirmed, and is actually shot down repeatedly by Kyle, to the point where he explicitly states that he doesn’t want to kiss girls. The only time where Kyle actually expresses any romantic interest in her is in Bebe’s Boobs Destroy Society - but in that episode, both Craig and Tweek are also interested in Bebe, so it can’t be used as reliable canon evidence for the concept of Kyle actually having feelings for her. As if there wasn’t enough evidence to prove that Kyle’s feelings for Bebe are completely non-existent, Kyle even tells Butters in Butters’ Bottom Bitch that a first kiss is supposed to be special, and he pleads with Butters to reconsider paying for his - something that could imply that Kyle regrets the way his own first kiss went.

Next is Rebecca - and admittedly, this one is the hardest to explain, but it’s still relatively easy to come up with a solid explanation for Kyle’s behavior around her. Early in the show, the boys were significantly more likely to get up to classic ‘kid’ shenanigans - just see ‘Clubhouses’ as an example, where they literally play Truth or Dare - and Kyle, as a character who we’ve repeatedly seen craves intellectual stimulation, would understandably start to long for someone who can actually provide that. Enter Rebecca. Kyle’s infatuation with her, even when seen from this light, is immediately understandable - he’s looking for someone with a different set of interests than his friends. This still isn’t proof that Kyle’s feelings for her are anything less than romantic - but the fact that Kyle never smiles after kissing her heavily implies it. This doesn’t look like the expression of a boy who just enjoyed a kiss - it looks a lot more like the expression of a boy who thought he would enjoy a kiss, but quickly came to realize that he didn’t enjoy it at all. It looks a lot like the expression of a boy who realized that he might not like kissing girls at all.

Third is Nichole - the first of two girls where Kyle doesn’t actually realize he has feelings for her until someone else pushes him in that direction. Nichole is especially notable because before Kyle is made aware that Nichole has feelings for him, he has no interest in her at all. Given Kyle’s history of needing validation from his friends and community, it makes sense that he would jump headfirst into seeking out a relationship with a girl who likes him. When it comes down to it, one of the things Kyle seems to consistently want most is to be liked.

Fourth is Leslie - and this starts a trend where Kyle projects his own situations onto the girls he thinks he likes. One of the main parts of Leslie’s character is that she’s constantly the subject of persecution - and Kyle relates to that. In the Leslie arc, Kyle is fully convinced that Leslie isn’t an ad, and that what she’s facing is completely unjust. Of course this resonates with Kyle! Throughout the entirety of the show, he’s constantly been a victim of unjust treatment - both intentionally from Cartman and unintentionally from the majority of other characters in the show. Part of the reason he feels such a strong desire to protect her is because he’s experienced the same thing before. This isn’t the only reason why I suspect Kyle’s feelings for Leslie were inauthentic - it’s also notable that Kyle still doesn’t start having feelings for Leslie until she calls him ‘cute’ and begins flirting with him. It’s another Nichole situation - as soon as someone who seems kind starts to show interest with him, Kyle jumps in headfirst. Him being able to heavily relate to her situation is just a bonus.

And last but not least, Heidi - and Kyle’s reasoning for believing he has feelings for her is essentially a mix of Nichole’s and Leslie’s. Once again, Kyle doesn’t seem to realize that he has feelings for her until the girls suggest that he does - until then, he’s completely oblivious to the supposed nature of how he feels about her, continuing the trend that Kyle never actually identifies his feelings past Rebecca as a crush until it’s explicitly pointed out to him. Occam’s Razor says that the simplest answer is most often the correct one, and I believe that applies here too - the simplest answer is that Kyle just doesn’t have a crush on her. That’s the reason why he doesn’t view his feelings for her as one. As for what relates his feelings for Heidi to his feelings for Leslie - once again, Kyle heavily relates to the situation Heidi’s in. At this point in the show, Heidi is being heavily manipulated by Cartman, something that Kyle has experienced countless times. Heidi has enough faith and naivete to believe that Cartman could change, and Kyle has felt similarly before! He doesn’t have a crush on Heidi - he wants to protect her from being hurt by Cartman, like he’s been hurt by him so many times before. We already know that Kyle has a very strong fraternal instinct - so why wouldn’t that apply in this situation as well?

Looking over Kyle’s list of supposed crushes, it quickly becomes apparent that these don’t seem to be crushes at all, and the fact that Kyle jumps so quickly between them supports that. His feelings for a girl never last more than a few episodes at most, with most of them lasting about half an episode. This doesn’t seem like a boy with genuine, authentic crushes to me - it seems like he’s either mistaking his fraternal instinct for crushes, or just genuinely wants to believe that he does have feelings for them, but he can’t seem to keep up his supposed affection for them for long. It’s a prime example of compulsory heterosexuality. Of course a gay ten year old boy (one with a particular need for validation) with vaguely homophobic friends would jump between crushes! He wants his friends to like him. He doesn’t want to be the odd one out. Unfortunately, that’s almost always what ends up happening. He just doesn’t want a repetition of it.

However, Kyle’s lack of feelings for the girls he claims to crush on aren’t the only in-show evidence for him being a gay character - there are a multitude of other little tidbits in the show that can be dismissed on their own, but come off as eyebrow-raising when put together.

Take Kyle’s TFBW character sheet for example. One thing that’s immediately noticeable on his sheet is how in the Sex/Gender section, Kyle’s response reads ‘Asexual Gender-Neutral Kite Alien’. Kite Alien? That’s strange. It’s almost like Kyle is describing the sexuality and gender of his character, rather than himself - and actually, that’s exactly what he’s doing. The other characters don’t describe themselves that way. Cartman’s character sheet doesn’t refer to himself as a half-raccoon. Mintberry Crunch’s character sheet doesn’t refer to himself as an alien. So why would Kyle specify that the gender and sexuality on his sheet refers only to his character and not to himself, when it would be just as easy for him to put ‘Straight Cis Male’ down, like nearly everyone else did? It almost seems like he has something to hide - that the reason he isn’t putting his real gender and sexuality down is because he’s either unsure of it or ashamed of it. And that would only make sense if Kyle wasn’t a straight character.

Another example of this is the metrosexual episode - an episode which initially seems to imply that Kyle is more confident in his heterosexuality than his friends, but can quickly be turned on its head through a brief analysis. One of the important things to note in this episode is that Kyle is STILL the odd one out. The episode in itself can easily be interpreted as a satire of the opposite issue, with flamboyant gay men and annoyed straight men, and when we flip the episode itself on its head to reflect that, that makes Kyle the gay character among the straight ones. Kyle is still the only one who doesn’t relate. The fact that the only other character to be genuinely upset by this (Mr. Garrison) is canonically gay is just support for this theory. 

Even Sexual Healing supports this. Three kids are identified as sex addicts among the class - Butters, Kenny, and Kyle. Wait, Kyle? That doesn’t seem to make much sense. Butters’s reason is obvious - he’s puzzled by the muff - and Kenny doesn’t need much analysis to realize why he’s so obsessed with the picture - but Kyle? The kid who, in ‘The Hobbit’, talked about a girl’s eyes when viewing the pictures, as opposed to the other kids who talked about their bodies? Kyle has never been fixated with female bodies, so what’s the deal with that? It’s never actually explained in the episode, but when you take all of that into consideration, there’s another explanation - the girl wasn’t who Kyle was looking at. 

Another thing of note is in Tweek x Craig, looking at the background characters during the breakup scene reveals another neat little tidbit - Kyle, along with Stan and Butters, are the only boys who are upset by the breakup. Stan is understandable, as his struggle with understanding it is the B-plot of the episode, and Butters can also be explained by the episode ‘Cartman Sucks’ - but Kyle? Why would he be upset about this? He was never particularly close to Craig and Tweek, so it seems like an odd detail that he would be upset by two gay kids breaking up. A possible explanation is that if Craig and Tweek stayed together, and the town remained accepting of them, it could give Kyle hope too - hope that he might end up in a relationship like that one day, too. 

In conclusion; on the surface level, all of these details seem able to be easily dismissed. So what if Kyle needs a little nudge towards Heidi, or if he seemed a little upset that Craig and Tweek broke up? But if you put all these details together, it seems to paint a much different picture - a picture of another gay kid at South Park, one who’s closeted for what could be multiple different reasons - a reasonable fear of coming out, concern over giving Cartman another reason to harass him, or simply just not knowing it himself yet. Either way, the conclusion of my lengthy ramble is relatively clear - given that Kyle hasn’t had any authentic feelings for girls in the show, dodges the question when asked about his own sexuality, and seems to pay much more attention to gay relationships and gay issues than he has to, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch at all to claim that Kyle is a gay character.

This came out WAY longer than I expected it to, but I hope I explained it well, and I’ll clarify and add anything if need be lol.