#that said-the only thing i hold against them is that i live in one

[hoe4hotchner]

New Years Eve | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1k | CW: Fluff, fireworks, new years eve, first kiss.

The soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald's voice played in the background as it filled Rossi’s living room. The BAU team had gathered to celebrate New Year’s Eve, though the invitation had invited them to party in style the emphasis of the party leaned more toward cozy than extravagant. Fairy lights twinkled across the walls, and a fire crackled in the hearth, making the winter night outside feel miles away.

You stood in the kitchen, carefully pouring champagne into a cluster of fluted glasses, mindful of the bubbling foam. The air was scented with cinnamon and cloves from the mulled wine simmering on the stove while the faint sound of laughter spilled in from the living room. Hotch leaned casually against the counter beside you, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up in a rare sign of relaxation. His eyes flicked toward you every few moments, the corners crinkling when you glanced back at him.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” he said, his voice low and warm, almost lost beneath the clink of glasses.

“Someone’s got to keep things running smoothly,” you teased, placing the bottle on the counter before reaching for another glass in the cabinet overhead. “Besides, you’re not exactly rushing to help.”

He chuckled softly and stepped closer. His hand brushed against yours as he picked up one of the glasses, sending a flicker of warmth up your arm. “I think you’ve got it under control. But for the record, I’m ready to step in if things get out of hand.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Agent Hotchner.”

The gentle banter was interrupted as Jack burst into the kitchen, his cheeks pink from running around. He skidded to a stop, his excitement making him bounce on his toes. “Dad! We're playing charades, and Uncle Derek’s losing so bad!”

Hotch laughed, ruffling Jack’s hair with an affection that softened his entire face. “Is that so? Maybe I should go rescue him before he kicks down a door.”

You grinned, watching as Jack tugged his dad toward the living room. You followed with the tray of glasses. Before settling down with the others on the couches, you paused to grab a spare blanket from the basket near the fireplace in case the night’s chill crept inside. The living room was alive, and the team was in various stages of jokes and games. Morgan was mid-performance, flapping his arms in what you guessed was supposed to be a bird, while Reid shouted increasingly wild guesses from his spot near the fireplace.

“A chicken? No, a swan! Wait, a penguin?”

Emily doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Why would he be a penguin?”

“You don’t know! Penguins are very expressive creatures,” Reid retorted, crossing his arms defensively, which only made Emily laugh harder.

Rossi raised his glass from his spot on the couch, smirking. “This might be the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”

“Careful, Dave,” you said. “We still have two hours left. Plenty of time for things to get even better.”

JJ stood, her phone in hand, and called out, “Alright, everyone, time for pictures! Before we get too… uh, spirited.” Her eyes flicked meaningfully toward the half-empty bottle of wine in Garcia’s hand.

Garcia gasped in mock offense, clutching the bottle to her chest. “Excuse me, Jennifer, I am always perfectly composed.”

“Sure you are,” Emily quipped, pulling her up from the couch.

The group crowded together in front of the fireplace, where Rossi insisted on setting the timer so everyone could be in the shot. Hotch’s hand found the small of your back as you squeezed into the frame, his touch steady and warm through the fabric of your sweater. Without thinking, you leaned into him, the moment so natural it didn’t even register until the flash went off.

The rest of the night flowed like the champagne. Stories were shared, laughter echoed through the house, and Jack eventually fell asleep in a pile of blankets, his head resting on your lap. Hotch sat beside you, his posture relaxed as he nursed a glass of wine. His hand brushed against yours again, his fingers warm as they tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The intimacy didn’t go unnoticed; Emily sent you a look from across the room, silently telling you that an interrogation would be scheduled in the new year, but she said nothing.

As the clock approached midnight, Rossi produced a box of sparklers, and the group bundled up to step outside. The cold air bit at your cheeks and made your breath visible in soft puffs, but the sight of the glittering sky, clear and dotted with stars, was worth it. Jack woke up just in time to light a sparkler with his dad.

When the countdown began, you found yourself standing next to Hotch again, your breath mingling in the crisp night air.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

The voices grew louder, for a moment, you thought about stepping away, about playing it safe. But when the clock struck midnight, Hotch turned to you.

“Happy New Year,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the cheers of the others.

“Happy New Year,” you replied, the words barely leaving your lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It didn't take long for the sparks of fireworks to ignite the sky, setting the background for your first kiss.

When you pulled back, your cheeks felt warm despite the cold, you noticed the team trying (and failing) to act nonchalant. Morgan’s grin was wide enough to split his face, and Garcia looked ready to combust with glee.

“Alright, everyone inside,” Rossi called, clapping his hands together. “Let’s toast to the new year properly.”

As you followed the others back into the house, Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt as natural as breathing. And as you raised your glass to toast with the team, surrounded by laughter and love, you couldn’t imagine a better way to start the year.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE — PART TWO

paige x azzi

warnings: language

word count: 4.8k

A/N: Here’s the next chapter!! It’s another chap of me setting the scene so bear with me. The next chapters when Azzi officially gets on campus will have more interaction between them. I’m also not sure how I feel about the 1st person POV so I might stop after this who knows. Anywho let me know what you think and leave comments and live reactions if you can!! Happy New Year everyone 🥳

—————————————————————————

July 2019 - Paige POV

I was deep into my basketball workout, the sound of the ball echoing through the gym as I went through the drills with precision. My trainer standing by the sideline, coaching me through each movement — footwork, ball-handling, shot mechanics. I was lost in the rhythm of it all, my mind focused solely on the next move, the next shot, just as I did every offseason.

But then, something on the TV caught my attention.

The US 3x3 tournament was on — I hadn't been paying too much attention to it, but I always found time for basketball, no matter who was playing. It was in my blood. I just loved the game at all levels.

My focus slipped for a second as I looked over at the screen, noticing the score was a little close. Then I saw Azzi.

I froze, the ball bouncing softly at my side as I watched everything unfold. One minute, she was pushing through the defense, looking like she was about to make a play, and the next, she was on the floor. Her knee buckled awkwardly, and I saw her fall, immediately clutching it. The pain was clear as day on her face.

"Oh fuck," I muttered under my breath, the word escaping before I could stop it. My trainer immediately moving toward the TV to turn the volume up.

The announcers' voices filled the gym, sharp with concern. "All of a sudden there’s concern for the health of one of the best high schoolers in the country. We can only hope Azzi Fudd is able to walk out of here on her own which will be a good sign for all the viewers who I’m sure are holding their breath as this all unfolds." One said, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily in his tone.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen as Azzi stayed down, her face twisted in pain, tears welling in her eyes as the camera zoomed in on her. I hate when they do that shit.

I didn’t particularly like Azzi. She was too passive for my liking, not nearly as fiery or intense as I thought a player should be. Especially someone of her caliber. Plus she fouled the hell out of me for no reason that one time. But seeing her in that kind of pain? That wasn’t something I could enjoy. Despite all the rivalry, despite everything, I hated seeing anyone get hurt.

For all our back-and-forth, the trash talk, the competitiveness that had grown between us, I never wanted to see her hurt. She had just had an incredible season, her name up there with the best in the country — and now, it could all come crashing down in a second. This injury could change everything for her, just like that.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when my trainer asked, “You think she’s going to be ight?”

I didn’t answer right away. I just stood there, watching as they helped Azzi off the court, her face still contorted in pain as she limped off. It hit me kinda hard — this was a big deal, and despite everything that had happened on the court between us, I couldn’t help but feel for her.

“Yeah,” I muttered. "I’m sure she’ll bounce back."

After that the gym felt a little different now. The ball didn’t bounce as loudly, and the drill didn’t seem as important. All I could think about was how quickly things could change in an instant. How that could have been me. How it could still be me.

…

Later that night, laying in bed, Paige aimlessly scrolled through social media. Her feed was flooded with news of Azzi's injury. It was everywhere. All anyone seemed to be talking about was the #1 player in the class of 2021 tearing both her ACL and MCL after her incredible sophomore year. Paige had to admit, it hit her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. She had seen Azzi's growth first-hand the few times they’d played — her rise to stardom, the awards, and now, this. The thought of the rivalry they'd shared now feeling so... empty... nagged at her.

Paige knew that she’d see St. John’s again twice next year but something about the thought of no Azzi in the mix made it not as exciting. Without Azzi, there wouldn’t be any real competition left. Their games had been some of the most intense, back-and-forth battles she’d ever played in, and now that felt like it was over. There was no way Azzi would be back before the playoffs next year.

Paige’s fingers hovered over her phone screen as her mind wandered. She didn’t know why she was doing this, but she found herself scrolling through her contacts, looking for Azzi's number. They’d played together on the U16 team and Paige had everyone’s number from the team saved after they insisted on having a groupchat. She tapped it and paused, unsure of what to say, knowing if she was in Azzi’s shoes no words would ease whatever she was feeling. Still she sent a message anyway.

You'll bounce back. It's just a setback Fudd.

She stared at the message, fingers hovering for a moment before hitting send. She didn’t expect a response. What was she even doing? Azzi probably didn’t even want to hear from her, they didn’t even like each other. But it felt wrong to just leave it at that — to not acknowledge what Azzi was going through. She knew the girl after all.

With a heavy sigh, Paige set her phone down and went to brush her teeth to get ready for bed. She didn’t really expect a response back.

But when she returned, phone in hand, her screen illuminated, signaling a new notification.

Thank you, means a lot.

Paige typed a quick reply: Anytime.

Then she put her phone on the nightstand, settling into bed as she turned on a WNBA game.

November 2019

Azzi sat at the end of the bench, her leg throbbing slightly beneath the brace, trying to make sense of the game she’d just watched. Her team had been outclassed from the jump, and without her on the floor, it felt like they had no chance. Paige of course had been unstoppable—37 points, and the craziest part was, she didn’t touch the floor the whole fourth quarter. It was almost embarrassing to watch.

When the buzzer finally rang, signaling the end of the game, Azzi’s shoulders slumped and she sighed in relief that it was over. She didn’t even look at the scoreboard; it didn’t matter. She stayed seated as her teammates lined up to shake hands with the Gonzaga players. The energy in the gym was deflated—everyone had known the outcome was a foregone conclusion the moment the game tipped off.

As Azzi adjusted her knee brace and slowly stood up, she was surprised to see Paige walking toward her.

The other players from Gonzaga hadn’t thought to come over and shake her hand, but Paige didn’t hesitate. She offered Azzi a quick high five, her face a mix of competitiveness and something else. Azzi raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the gesture but unwilling to show any emotion to the blonde in front of her.

Paige’s voice was light, almost teasing. “What’s that, 4-1 now, Fudd?”

Azzi couldn’t help but scoff. “You didn’t talk shit the whole game,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You just had to come over here and ruin it, didn't you?”

Paige laughed, a playful glint in her eyes. As she turned to walk away, she tossed over her shoulder, “No comp to talk shit to on the court that’s all.”

Azzi watched her go, a mix of annoyance and begrudging admiration in her chest. Paige had a way of making things look easy, and even though Azzi hated it and hated how she acted, she couldn’t deny it—Paige was damn good.

March 2020 - Paige’s POV

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands, stomach in knots. My phone sat next to me, buzzing with more notifications I couldn’t bring myself to check. The championship game we’d worked so damn hard for, the perfect season we’d earned — all of it, gone. Just like that.

CoVid-19 had canceled the last game, and I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. It felt like a bad dream. The end of my high school career. Just like that, like a snap of a few fingers. Kind of funny how life is in that way.

We had been unstoppable. Undefeated. We were supposed to go out on top. I was supposed to walk off that court with my teammates, with that championship trophy, the culmination of all the hard work and sacrifice after losing last year. But now, it was all over, and I was left with nothing but this empty feeling in my chest.

It felt wrong, especially after the season I’d had. Gatorade Female High School Athlete of the Year. Gatorade National Player of the Year. Naismith Prep Player of the Year. Morgan Wootten National Player of the Year. I was on the cover of SLAM, for fucks sake. A McDonald’s All-American. I was supposed to play in the Jordan Brand Classic. The championship with my team was supposed to be the last piece of the puzzle. And now it was just... taken from me. From all of us.

I wasn’t the only one feeling it, but that didn’t make it any easier. My teammates were crushed, too. We all were. We’d worked for this. We had dreams about our comeback season, and now they were dashed. I just couldn’t understand how everything had unraveled so quickly.

It wasn’t just about the game, though. It was everything that came with it. The way everything seemed to be falling into place too quickly. My future at UConn was waiting, but it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me before I was ready. All of a sudden, the world felt uncertain even though I knew exactly where I was headed for the next four years.

I tried not to think about the stuff I’d lose, like the last game I was supposed to play, the players I was supposed to compete against, and the milestones I was supposed to hit with my team. Instead, I kept thinking about what was next.

The only thing I could do right now was work. There was no championship trophy to hold, no fans to cheer for me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t still prepare.

So, I grabbed my shoes and headed to the gym. I knew there was no real closure here. Not right now, so it was pointless to get in my feelings about it. Pointless to sit around and be sad. There was still a season ahead of me, more basketball to play. College was waiting now.

…

The gym was quiet except for the sound of basketballs bouncing. Paige was working through her shots, focused as she tested her range and worked on different combo moves. She wasn’t expecting company, everything was shut down. Her thoughts were elsewhere—on the future, not on what had been taken from her. The weight of losing her senior season to the pandemic still hung over her, though she didn’t let it show in her work.

Then, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She pulled off her headphones and turned around, surprised to see Azzi standing there. It had been about seven months since Azzi’s knee injury, and seeing her standing there in person was different from seeing her in a game. The two of them never really spoke outside of playing one another, and the awkwardness of the situation wasn’t lost on either of them.

Azzi paused when their eyes met. “My bad, didn’t know anyone was here,” she said, clearly about to turn and leave. The gym was small and only half a court and she didn’t want to deal with whatever Paige had to say today.

Paige shook her head in disagreement, clearly not phased by her presence. “It’s cool. You don’t need to leave.”

Azzi hesitated before nodding and walking over to the bench, sitting down to put on her basketball shoes. Paige returned to shooting. Once Azzi had finished getting ready, she stood up, stretched, and grabbed a ball. Paige was still shooting when she glanced over taking off her headphones again.

“How’s the knee?” Paige asked before she could stop herself, looking down at the black sleeve covering Azzi’s right leg. Her voice broke the silence, and Azzi looked at her, surprised by the blonde speaking to her.

“It’s a work in progress,” Azzi replied, her tone softer than Paige had ever heard. It was clear she was still recovering, but she didn’t seem too eager to talk about it.

Paige simply hummed in response, turning back to the basket. Neither of them said much after that.

Paige continued to go through her drills as Azzi worked on her shots, most of them swishing effortlessly through the net, though she was missing more than usual. Paige, focused as always, didn’t really think too much about what the other girl had going on. After a while of silence, Azzi turned to her.

“Congrats on all your awards, by the way,” Azzi said, her voice genuine, even if it came out a little unexpectedly and awkwardly. Paige nodded, briefly acknowledging it with a half smile. There wasn’t much more to say—her accomplishments had all come in a season that felt incomplete, and she didn’t really wanna think about that right now.

Then, on a rebound, Azzi’s ball went a little further than expected, and Paige jogged to retrieve it, having been closer as she was getting some water. Azzi watched her and when Paige came back, she passed Azzi the ball without a word.

That was the turning point. Instead of keeping to their separate routines, they began to shoot together. Azzi rebounded for Paige, and Paige did the same for Azzi. They moved around the court, each shot a natural rhythm as they stepped into the pass. The way they moved, the way they passed and shot, was effortless, like they had done this a thousand times before. Neither said a word as they shot, they were just happy to not have to run after their own rebound every two seconds. The ease between them told a story of mutual respect even though it was usually clear they weren’t too fond of each other.

The silence between them stretched on as Paige and Azzi continued to shoot. The rhythm of their movements, the swish of the net, and the soft thud of the ball bouncing were the only sounds filling the gym. They both seemed absorbed in their own thoughts as they passed the ball back and forth.

After some time, Paige’s phone kept buzzing so she glanced at the clock. She had been there longer than she’d planned, and she remembered telling Drew she’d take him to the movies. So she reluctantly made her way to the bench to take off her basketball shoes even though she hadn’t cleared her mind like she hoped. Azzi was still shooting, focused and intent, as if the ball and the hoop were the only things that mattered.

Paige bent down to untie her shoes, glancing up as she did. Azzi missed another shot, and the ball rolled off to the side. Paige grabbed it without thinking, tossing it back to Azzi with a casual flick of her wrist.

As the ball landed back in Azzi’s hands, Paige couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in Azzi’s movements, the way she seemed to favor her left leg a bit. Azzi took a moment before shooting again, but the ball missed again, clanging off the rim and bouncing awkwardly as the girl groaned in frustration.

Paige stood up, grabbing her shoes from the ground as she spoke. “You’re favoring your left side when you shoot now,” she said, her voice calm but observant. “That’s why your shot’s not falling. You gotta trust that your knee will be fine.”

Azzi paused, the ball resting in her hands as she processed the comment. Paige could see the wheels turning in Azzi’s mind, the realization slowly dawning on her. She didn’t reply, but Paige noticed the way she shifted her weight as she took a second shot, more thoughtfully this time as it went through the net.

Paige didn't linger, just headed toward the door. Azzi didn’t say anything more either, lost in her thoughts as she continued to shoot.

November 2020

Azzi had been wrestling with the decision for weeks. The pressure to commit was everywhere, with coaches, family, and even fans weighing in with their opinions. Narrowing her choices to UCLA, Maryland, and UConn had been easy enough—each school had its appeal.

Maryland offered familiarity. The hometown hero story would mean playing in front of her family and friends, building a legacy close to home. UCLA? Well, their facilities were out of this world, and the program was on the rise and it would be nice to be the player who brought them to the top. But UConn... UConn was something else entirely.

The school was synonymous with greatness. Azzi had grown up dreaming of wearing that blue and white jersey, playing under Geno Auriemma, and being part of a dynasty, of being a husky. There was no denying the opportunity to grow under one of the best coaches in basketball history.

But there was a large problem. Paige.

Azzi had only crossed paths with Paige a handful of times during their games, but each interaction had left a bad taste in her mouth. Paige Bueckers was an undeniable talent, but her confidence often read as arrogance. The way Paige carried herself—with that smirk and cocky demeanor—rubbed Azzi the wrong way every time. Could she really spend years as a teammate to someone who seemed so self-absorbed? She couldn’t imagine having to share the court with the girl let alone the ball that she would probably never pass to Azzi.

Azzi turned the thought over and over in her mind day after day, replaying memories of Paige’s antics during games, her posturing, the way the media fawned over her, the way she soaked it in. It was irritating. Still, Azzi decided she couldn’t let one person dictate her future. This was her dream, her opportunity to compete at the highest level, to win championships.

When Azzi made her commitment to UConn public, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The decision was made, and she was ready to face whatever came next—even Paige and all of her bullshit.

A couple of states away in Connecticut, Paige sat scrolling through her phone in the gym when the news broke. A tweet caught her eye, and as she opened it, her jaw nearly hit the floor.

"DMV’s Azzi Fudd, 2021 #1 Recruit Commits to University of Connecticut"

Paige stared at the screen, rereading the headline as if it would change. Her eyebrows shot up, and her eyes bulged in disbelief.

“What the fuck” Paige muttered to herself.

December 2020

During high school winter break Geno organized Azzi to come on a visit to meet the team before her official arrival. The visist had been going smoothly—almost perfectly, in fact. The facilities were incredible, Geno’s warmth and charisma made her feel valued, and the team seemed thrilled to have her there. Everything felt right. Everything except the glaring absence of Paige Bueckers.

It wasn’t like Azzi had come to the visit just to ‘officially’ meet Paige, but it would’ve been nice. Paige was clearly the face of the program now, the freshman star everyone raved about. If they were going to be teammates, Azzi figured they’d at least cross paths before she officially got to campus the upcoming summer. But so far, Paige had been conspicuously absent from all the introductions, the tour, and now the relaxed hangout in the dorm's common area.

The team was great, though. Christyn and Olivia, two of the team’s upperclassmen had gone out of their way to make Azzi feel comfortable, sharing stories about what it was like to play under Geno. Christyn was particularly funny, throwing in sarcastic comments about Olivia’s sometimes over-the-top pregame rituals.

Aaliyah, Nika, Saylor, and Piath—some of the freshmen—were a mix of energy and chaos. Nika’s personality was magnetic; she was constantly cracking jokes and pulling Azzi into the group’s banter. Aaliyah had a quieter, grounded presence, offering up thoughtful questions and laughing at Nika’s antics. Saylor and Piath added their own flair, with Saylor occasionally teasing Nika for her over-the-top expressions and Piath keeping things calm when the group got a little rowdy.

Then there was Aubrey, who was nestled between the older and younger players. She had an easygoing vibe, but there was something quietly sharp about her observations and she didn’t seem to talk much. But as the night wore on, Aubrey began to loosen up a bit and was leaning in to share a few inside jokes about the team dynamics here and there.

“You’ll like it here,” Aubrey said, nudging Azzi with her elbow. “Well, once you get used to all the chaos… and Paige.”

The mention of Paige brought the blonde’s absence into sharper focus. Azzi glanced toward the only closed door in the suite, making her assume it was Paige’s. Azzi had heard what sounded like the same game replaying over and over since she’d been in the suite coming from behind the closed door. She hadn’t thought much of it earlier, but now it felt a little deliberate that she hadn’t come out yet.

Evina noticed Azzi’s glance and sighed. “I’ll go get her,” she said, standing up and walking toward Paige’s door.

Before she could get there and knock, the door swung open. Paige emerged in a whirlwind, a granola bar clamped between her teeth, headphones slung around her neck, her phone in one hand, and her basketball shoes in the other.

“Hey, P,” Evina said, trying to stop her. “Come hang out for a bit. Azzi’s here.”

Paige grunted, barely making eye contact. “Can’t. Played like ass yesterday,” she mumbled around the granola bar before walking past everyone and out of the suite.

Azzi scoffed, unable to hold it in. It was hard not to take it personally. She didn’t know Paige well, but her quick exit felt more like an insult than anything else.

“No, don't take offense,” Evina said, noticing Azzi’s reaction. “Paige is… well, she’s Paige. You’ll get to know her. She’d live in the gym if we let her. Trust me, it’s not about you.”

Aubrey snorted from her spot on the couch. “Yeah I lost a bet and had to drag her out of there twice this week. First time, I turned the lights off. She didn’t even notice, or didn’t care. She just kept shooting until she got tired of me messing with her music and walked out.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “And the second time?”

“Had to practically carry her out,” Aubrey said with a laugh. “She gave up eventually, but only because I promised her Nika wouldn’t eat all the protein bars anymore.”

“I don’t eat all of them!” Nika protested loudly, drawing laughter from the group.

Azzi chuckled slightly but her irritation still lingered. Sure, Paige might be obsessive about basketball, but her absence still felt pointed with Azzi knowing the older girl didn’t like her. Azzi decided to ignore it though and as the night wore on, the team’s easy camaraderie pulled her in, and Azzi found herself genuinely liking everyone. Even looking forward to being here in the summer.

But Paige’s absence hung over everything, making it hard for Azzi to fully relax. When it got close to midnight and Paige still hadn’t returned, Nika, Aubrey, and Evina began debating who should go to the gym this time.

“I went twice already!” Aubrey said, throwing her hands up. “I’m not doing it again. I’d rather wrestle Olivia’s big ass for the remote.”

“You didn’t even try last yesterday,” Nika teased. “You just texted her and gave up and I had to go eventually.”

“Yeah, because she’s a weirdo when she’s like this.”

Evina groaned, standing up. “Fine shut up. I’ll go.”

Azzi watched as Evina grabbed her keys and headed out, her frustration bubbling to the surface again.

About thirty minutes later, the door to the suite swung open, and Evina stepped in, followed by a very irritated Paige. Azzi immediately noticed the tension as Paige, her hair sticking slightly to her forehead from sweat, strode in mid-sentence.

“It’s not that big of a fucking deal, E,” Paige muttered, clearly continuing a heated discussion the two had been having on their way back.

“It is a big deal,” Evina shot back, her voice calm but firm. “And you’re going to handle it. Now.”

Paige groaned dramatically, tossing her basketball shoes onto the floor by her room before following Evina inside. The door shut behind them, and for a brief moment, the suite was quiet.

Then came the muffled sounds of what was unmistakably yelling. Azzi wasn’t sure whether Paige or Evina was louder, but she could hear enough to piece together that Evina was getting on Paige about something.

The team, meanwhile, carried on as if this was perfectly normal, as if it was their routine. Aaliyah was fiddling with the remote trying to find a game, Aubrey was scrolling through her phone, and Christyn and Olivia were engaged in a debate over which snack brand had the best pretzels.

Eventually, the noise from Paige’s room stopped, and a few moments later, Evina emerged, her expression relaxed and a victorious smile playing on her lips. “She’ll be out soon,” she announced, as if this was some kind of accomplishment.

True to her word, a while later, Paige reappeared. She had swapped her clothes for a loose hoodie and joggers, her wet hair thrown over her shoulders. She glanced at Azzi, her blue eyes softening slightly.

“Hey,” Paige said, offering a small, almost sheepish smile. “Sorry for missing most of your visit. Welcome to UConn Azzi.”

Evina, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, watched the interaction with a knowing grin, as though she’d personally orchestrated this rare moment of civility.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard by Paige’s shift in demeanor. She nodded, her response clipped but polite. “It’s all good.”

Paige didn’t seem to notice Azzi’s hesitation—or if she did, she didn’t care. She flopped down onto the couch between Nika and Olivia with an exaggerated sigh, stretching her legs out and leaning her head against Nika’s shoulder.

“Welcome back to the land of the living twin,” Nika greeted her, her voice light and teasing.

Paige tilted her head, giving Nika a look that Azzi couldn’t quite decipher. It was like an entire conversation passed between them in a single expression. Nika burst out laughing, shaking her head as she nudged Paige playfully, making the blonde crack a smile as she leaned back on Nika’s shoulder.

The casual interaction threw Azzi off. For someone who’d seemed so intense and standoffish earlier, Paige was now practically melting into Nika. It was… strange.

Nika, Azzi had learned over the course of the evening, was one of the sweetest and most outgoing members of the team, always cracking jokes and making people feel included. On the surface, she and Paige couldn’t have been more different, yet here they were, leaning on each other like lifelong best friends.

Before Azzi could think too much about it, Christyn, who had been munching on a bag of chips, reached into the cabinet and tossed two protein bars at Paige, hitting her square in the chest.

“Eat,” Christyn ordered, her tone casual but firm. Paige barely reacted, opening one of the bars and shoving a piece of it in her mouth without a word.

Azzi couldn’t help but notice the dynamic. It was almost as if it was second nature for everyone to take care of Paige. Dragging her out of the gym, making sure she ate, looking out for her even when she seemed pissy about it.

It was strange to witness but oddly endearing picking up on how much they cared about each other. Azzi still wasn’t sure how Paige fit into the easygoing, tight-knit vibe of the rest of the team, but seeing her now—grumbling about snacks while slouching into Nika’s shoulder—it was clear there was more to her than Azzi had originally thought.

Azzi had planned to be the bigger person today and put all their bad blood to the side. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Paige had been avoiding her, and it left a sour taste, so she kept her mouth shut.

[httpsdana]

Since Ruben got himself a new puppy I need to read fic with Ruben being jealous of new addition to the family. The puppy won’t leave his girlfriend side even for a night sleep and being really protective of her when Ruben around

Man-to-man~Rúben Dias

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

Rúben stepped into the house after an exhausting match, dropping his keys on the nearby table. He kicked off his shoes, placing them on the shoe rack.

He called out for his girlfriend, but didn't hear anything in response. When he stepped into the living room, he saw her sitting there, a book in hand and their new addition to the family, Zazu the little brown ball of fur, curled up on her lap while she scratched behind his ears.

“Now that's betrayal. I called out for you and you didn't answer” He said, making her look up at him surprised.

“you're here? how was the match, honey?” she asked, watching as he dropped down next to her.

“you didn't watch it?” his voice was a bit disappointed, making her quickly shake her head.

“I did, but this little one distracted me a lot. didn't you baby?” she cooed the little puppy in her arms.

Rúben scoffed, making her raise an eyebrow but she didn't question him.

“Can we go to bed please? I just want to relax” Rúben pleaded, tugging on her hand.

“of course, let's go” as soon as she got up, Zazu was already sprinting to the room.

Rúben opened his mouth to speak up but stopped when y/n laughed, picking up the pace of her steps.

Rúben let out a sigh, following his girlfriend and the little thing who seems like he's been replacing him.

When he got to the room, he saw Zazu curled up in his spot, while y/n was giggling at the little puppy.

“oh absolutely not” Rúben shook his head, stepping closer to the bed.

“what?” y/n asked him, confused.

“he has to sleep in his own bed, simba never sleeps with us in bed” he reached out, holding the little puppy in his hand, only for him to squirm out of his hand and dart back onto the bed. This caused y/n to laugh at the annoyed look on Ruben's face.

“listen here little guy, let's have a talk, man-to-man” Rúben said, pointing his index finger at Zazu who was looking up at him with wide eyes.

“she is my girlfriend. I cuddle her, I feed her, and I…” he looked up at her, before leaning down to whisper in the puppy's ear. “you know…do other things to her” he whispered, making y/n burst into laughter.

“So you're gonna be sleeping in your bed tonight” Rúben said.

Zazu let out a whimper as Rúben held him again to place him outside the room. When he did, Rúben got in bed, pulling her closer to place her head on his chest.

“how cute is it for you to be jealous of that innocent thing” she teased, making him roll his eyes.

Before he could reply, Zazu was on the bed, but this time he curled up on Rúben's chest next to y/n's head.

Rúben let out a sigh, before smiling slightly.

“see he loves you too” she said, scratching the dog's head as he fell asleep.

“he better love me. I was the one who brought him here” Rúben joked, making her chuckle.

She leaned up, pressing a kiss on his jaw as he traced shapes on her back in a soothing way.

“don't worry you'll be my number one always, if you keep on feeding, cuddling, and ‘doing other things to me’” she mimicked his words earlier, making him laugh, the rumbling of his chest as he laughed making Zazu let out a whimper.

“sorry baby” y/n said, pressing a kiss on the puppy's head.

“one for me too” Rúben said, leaning down to kiss her. She smiled against his lips, kissing him once again before they settled in bed, ready to unwind.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[shurisneakers]

“i know we almost died just now, but… am i the only one who’s hungry?” is so harmless reader core… but what if it was Bucky saying this?

Also hi i love u

hi <3 hey <3 i love u too <3 harmless turns 4 years old next year she's like in school now

Catch up with the rest of the series here!

"Great job, team," you pant, raising your hand for a high five. "I think that was very well handled."

Bucky, still trying to process what exactly the fuck just went down, does not even respond when you match his indifference, dropping your hand to slap it against his.

"Is that how it always goes?" you ask him, looking around the empty lot. "I figured there'd be a lot more zing, y'know? Some oomph. That was like, fine."

The mission was going fine, calm even, until you managed to piss them off, leading to them calling in backup, leading to you both being severely outnumbered, leading to you deciding you'd gotten bored which finally lead to you ending it with a timeout-inator.

Things had exploded, Bucky had to pull down a door to shield you both-- it was a whole thing that he definitely did not mentally prepare for. This was just supposed to be a simple data extraction. He doesn't know at which point nuclear guns got involved.

"How--" Bucky stops mid-sentence, brain scrambling to put together things, "--how did you get assigned on this mission again?"

It wasn't like he claimed to be the expert on all things SHIELD, but he figured that a non-Avenger, non-agent needed a lot of clearance to be allowed on a mission, no matter how mundane the initial objective was. The fact that it devolved into madness was more on you than SHIELD.

"I wrote my name on the sign-up sheet," you explain, smoothing out your singed clothes.

"The what?"

"Fine, you caught me," you give in without even trying, dusting some ash off his shoulder. "I forged my name on some documents, used some white paint. Did an ol' switcharoo. You know how it goes."

"You faked your way here?" he shouts, dropping the damn door he was still holding. "What the hell was your plan?"

"Why does everything need a plan? Why can't I just tag along to see what you do for a living?"

"We nearly got killed. You--"

"But we didn't."

"That is not the point. You said it was a special mission, you said you had clearance from Nick to--"

"I said Nick would give me clearance for anything. And it is a special mission. I'm here, isn't that the specialest gift of all?"

"You didn't ask?" he screeches instead. "How did you get here? Who the fuck was supposed to be here in your place?"

"Clint," you say with a sheepish smile. "He told me he'd wash my garage so we swapped."

That fucking moron. "He'd wash your garage in exchange for you risking your life--"

"I didn't risk anything." You scoff. "I knew we would handle that like champs."

"We nearly got annihilated by a nuclear gun." He drags a hand down his face. "If he didn't trip over your stupid jacket in the last second, we would be dust."

"Well yeah, only if you put it like that," you relent. Bucky glares at you.

You look out at the empty room, one hand on your hip. Lot of rubble and shrapnel in places they had no reason being.

"Huh," you say after a while. "Guess we did just almost die."

"That's it?" he raves, still incredulous. "That's all you have to say?"

"That's crazy-sauce, man," you add, throwing your hands up when he glares at you. "What? What else should I be saying?"

"Where the fuck did you send them?" Bucky finally makes a move, wiping the dirt off his metal fingers onto his cargo pants.

"I put them in timeout," you reply, tapping the gun you'd put back into he pocket of your pants.

"Where is timeout?"

"Like, somewhere outside of time," you dismiss. "Time-out. You get it."

His eyes clench shut, taking a deep inhale in before exhaling, lest he pop a blood vessel.

"We almost died," he tells you again.

"If you say so," you nod.

He stares at you.

You stare right back at him.

The world keeps spinning.

"I'm hungry," he grumbles. "You want lunch?"

"I could go for a sandwich, yeah."

[ikkyfics]

Happy New Year

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: “Okay, your challenge is… to kiss someone before midnight.” Your heart raced. “I… what?” You looked at them. “It’s simple, you just have to pick someone. Anyone.” Anyone. You knew you should pick someone random, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

Warnings: fluffy, new year challenge, shy!reader, first kiss

A/N: first fic of the year <333 I would like to wish everyone a happy new year, full of things as wonderful as each one of you

Masterlist

The hall where the party was taking place seemed magical in a way no elaborate spell could replicate. The students who stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays had transformed a space near the Astronomy Tower into a warm celebration, full of twinkling lights, lively music, and laughter echoing from every corner. It was impossible not to feel the joy hanging in the air, but you could hardly focus on what was happening around you.

Your gaze, as always, ended up being drawn to him.

James Potter. With his purposefully messy black hair, the easy smile that seemed to light up any room, and those vibrant blue eyes behind his round glasses, he was a gravitational force for you. There was something about him that made your heart beat a little faster every time he entered the same room. No matter how many times you promised yourself you’d stop looking, it was as if your eyes betrayed your resolve.

You’d known him for years, but he seemed like the kind of person who never stopped surprising you. Always so full of life, so confident, so... him. Even so, nervousness took over every time he spoke to you or smiled in your direction. It wasn’t something you could control; it was like every time he looked at you, the ground disappeared beneath your feet, leaving only an anxious tingling in its place.

Not that there were many interactions between you. Most of the time, James was surrounded by his friends or laughing at one of Sirius’s jokes. But on the rare occasions he spoke to you directly, your mind seemed to completely shut off. You remembered the way he smiled when he asked to borrow the book you were holding in the library weeks ago, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as he took it. Or the time he held the door open for you in Potions class, tossing a casual “Don’t mention it” that left your face burning for the rest of the day. He probably didn’t even think about those moments, but for you, they replayed in your mind like scenes from a film.

And now he was here, in the same hall as you, laughing at something Remus had just said. James’s laugh was unmistakable—loud and contagious—and you couldn’t help but smile, even without knowing why. He looked so at ease, so natural, that it felt like he was a part of everything that made Hogwarts feel like home.

“You’re staring at him again, you know?” The voice of Anne, one of your friends, interrupted your thoughts, and you quickly turned, feeling your face heat up. Miriam was sitting next to you, a mischievous smile on her lips as she watched you.

“I’m not staring,” you mumbled, trying to look away, but Anne’s laughter from across the table made it clear they didn’t believe you.

“Of course not,” Miriam teased. “It’s just that he’s the only thing you’ve looked at for the past thirty minutes.”

You tried to protest but knew it was pointless. They already knew enough about your feelings for James to not be easily convinced.

“Speaking of challenges…” Anne began, a playful glint in her eyes. “You haven’t completed any yet, and midnight’s almost here.”

Your mind was immediately filled with the absurd ideas they’d come up with throughout the night. Earlier, Anne had dared Miriam to steal a piece of pie straight from the teachers’ table. Miriam, in retaliation, made Anne approach a group of friends and hum a ridiculous song. None of you were exempt from the next challenge, and you knew your turn was coming.

“Okay,” Miriam said, leaning closer. “Your challenge is... to kiss someone before midnight.”

Your heart raced.

“I... what?” You looked at them, hoping they were joking, but their mischievous smiles made it clear they were serious.

“It’s simple,” Anne insisted, as if it really were. “You just have to pick someone. Anyone.”

Anyone. The idea made your stomach churn. You knew you should pick someone random, someone who didn’t make your heart race with nervousness, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it echoed throughout your body. Your feet were glued to the floor, and the idea of approaching James Potter seemed far too daunting to be real. But the challenge echoed in your mind, along with Anne and Miriam’s expectant gazes. Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and stepped forward.

James was alone now, a rare sight, considering he almost always had one of the Marauders by his side. He was standing by the table where some drinks and snacks had been laid out, his back to you. He seemed distracted, fiddling with something on the table, and that gave you the push you needed. Even so, every step toward him felt like a test of courage, and your legs trembled so much you feared tripping before you even reached him.

When you were just a few feet away, he turned, and the world around you seemed to stop. James smiled—that easy, unassuming smile that was somehow devastating at the same time. You felt the air leave your lungs, and for a moment, all you could do was stare. He looked beautiful, as always, with his messy black hair falling slightly over his forehead. The round glasses gave him a unique charm, and those blue eyes shone with an intensity that made your heart nearly leap out of your chest.

“Hey,” he said, his voice relaxed but with a warm tone that made you feel strangely safe, even as anxiety swirled inside you. “Want a drink?” He held up a glass of juice you hadn’t even noticed he was holding.

“Oh, no... I mean, yes... no, thanks,” you stammered, feeling your face heat as your words came out completely jumbled. He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that seemed to tickle your stomach.

“Sure? I promise I didn’t put anything weird in here. At least, not much,” he joked, his smile widening as he took a sip of his own drink.

You shook your head, trying to ignore how dry your throat felt. “No, I... I’m fine. I just... thought I’d come talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m honored,” he said, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What did you want to talk about?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to look like a complete idiot. “Nothing important. Just... do you like these parties? I mean, do you actually have fun, or do you just come because all your friends are here?”

The question came out completely nonsensical, and you immediately wished you could disappear. James, however, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled even more.

“I like them,” he replied, leaning slightly against the table as if to seem closer. “I mean, it’s hard not to have fun when you’ve got Sirius trying to dance and Remus trying to stop him from breaking something. What about you? Are you enjoying it, or did your friends drag you here?”

“Oh, they definitely dragged me,” you admitted, feeling the words flow more easily as he kept the tone light. “They do these things... silly challenges and stuff.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Challenges, huh? So, have you done any, or are you hiding from them?”

You felt your face grow even warmer and glanced away, focusing on anything but his eyes. “Actually... not yet.”

“So you are hiding,” he concluded with a soft laugh. “Well, at least you had the courage to come over here. That’s a start.”

His words, spoken so lightly, seemed to strike something deep inside you. Courage. That’s exactly what you lacked right now, but you knew you had to try. So, before your mind could sabotage your intentions, you blurted out:

“Would you... if I... would you mind if I kissed you?”

The question escaped so quickly and nervously that you barely registered the words before they were out. When silence followed, the urge to run overtook you—disappear before he could respond. But then James did something you didn’t expect. He blinked, briefly surprised, and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he smiled in a way that made your heart stop.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice warm and full of meaning.

And before you could process what that meant, the countdown to midnight began. The voices around you felt distant as James took a step closer, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your entire body tingle. It felt as though time slowed when he raised a hand, gently cradling your face, his thumb softly brushing against your heated cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, almost like a promise, before leaning in slowly and pressing his lips to yours.

The world around you seemed to disappear completely, leaving only you and James in that moment that felt infinite. The kiss was as soft as it was at first, but the way he held you revealed something deeper. His arm found its way around your waist, pulling you gently closer, as though even a sliver of distance might shatter the moment. His touch was firm yet tender, and you melted into him, warmth radiating from every point where your bodies met.

His lips moved against yours with a certainty you never imagined experiencing. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel safe, desired, and important. The way he tilted his head slightly, adjusting the angle of the kiss, made every second feel new and even sweeter. Without realizing it, your fingers found the edge of his jacket, holding onto it lightly because your knees threatened to give way.

His scent—something fresh, like open air with a hint of wood—filled your senses, and the texture of his lips, soft yet so assured, made it impossible to think of anything else. There was a perfect balance between tenderness and intensity, and you realized, with a flush spreading across your cheeks, that you would never forget this moment. He was there, entirely present, as though nothing outside of this existed—just you.

When he finally began to pull away, it was slow, almost as though he wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. His thumb traced lightly along the side of your face before he opened his eyes. You barely had time to recover before you saw those bright blue eyes shining, a mixture of admiration and pure happiness.

That’s when he said your name.

You blinked, surprised, a shiver running down your spine at how intimately he spoke it, as if he were holding something precious. Hearing your name from his lips felt strange, but in a way that made your heart race even faster. You hadn’t spoken much before. How did he know?

“How do you know my name?” you asked, your voice so quiet it barely sounded like your own. Your eyes searched his, seeking answers in every small expression that crossed his face.

James smiled—not just any smile, but the one that seemed to light up the entire room. He raised a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face gently before answering.

“I pay attention,” he said, with a natural ease that only made him more irresistible. “Did you really think I didn’t notice you? How you always look down when you’re talking to someone, or how you get nervous when you think someone’s watching? I notice. And I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times…”

You were speechless, completely captivated by his tone, by the way he seemed so genuine. He continued, as though it was impossible to stop now that he’d begun.

“I just never knew how to approach you. You always seemed so... distant. And I thought maybe you wouldn’t want someone like me to talk to you. But... you’re here now. And I won’t pretend I’m not happy about that.”

Your heart was pounding, and you didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at you made your knees feel even weaker, but something about his words gave you unexpected courage.

“I… I’ve always wanted to talk to you too,” you admitted, your voice hesitant but sincere. “I just didn’t know how.”

James smiled again, softer this time, more intimate. “Well, I guess we’ve figured it out now, haven’t we?”

You laughed nervously, but he tightened his grip on your waist slightly, as if to reassure you that you weren’t going anywhere. Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he said:

“I was thinking... maybe we could continue this conversation later. Just the two of us. What do you think?”

Your heart leapt, and you could hardly believe what you were hearing. “Are you… asking me out?”

“I am,” he replied without hesitation. “And I’m hoping you’ll say yes because I don’t want to miss the chance to really get to know you.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Yes,” you said, almost unable to believe your own words. “I’d love to.”

He grinned in a way that made your chest swell with a joy as light as the crisp night air. “Great. Best way to start the year, don’t you think?”

And with that, he gave your waist one last gentle squeeze, as if to confirm that this moment was real. The sound of fireworks began in the distance, but nothing seemed more important than his gaze, still locked on yours, as if he could stay there forever.

[lostinthewronguniverse]

So, while I understand your reasoning, I do find it flawed. While many people in the US do not like their boss or the police, they do prefer to lick the boots of their bosses and police when told or when things get rough. I am not discounting myself in this

When a homeless person is making someone uncomfortable, by far the majority of people would be more comfortable with calling the cops on them than allow them to sleep by a bus stop or beg in a walkway. White right wing people who don’t trust the police are still happy to call them when black people are hanging around chatting for “too long”. If an autistic teen walks towards your fence to look at a flower, way too many people would call the cops on him. While in reality many people in the US hate cops for one reason or another, the sentiment is still there that we love cops as soon as things get hard, and it is a small portion of people who would actually call out cops like during George Floyd’s death. Most people would have walked by figuring that he probably deserved it because no matter how much we say acab at the end of the day we tend to trust them more than the person whose rights they’re violating

Now, bosses we practically never stand up to because we’re too scared to lose our jobs. We may acknowledge that they’re power hungry and deliberately target a single person and make 2x+ our income for half the work and whatnot, but when we are talking to them, we hardly say anything. If we see someone being targeted, then we might try to cheer them up after but you hardly ever see someone push back against the harassment. In private, we’re even more likely to agree with the boss that they do so much for the company or so-and-so performs poorly. We keep kissing ass in the hopes of a raise or promotion and we get nothing. Then, we go behind the boss’s back and complain about how horrible they are while not doing anything to change it. This is the reason why so often unions are unable to form or people can be singled out because no one wants to receive the boss’s ire and we’re told that we can’t move ahead with others but we can move up on our own. Once again, the sentiment is there that no matter how much we hate our bosses we treat them like we love them

Actions speak louder than words. While you’ve lived in more states than I have, you have only taken people’s words at face value and not looked at their actions. I have a friend who is constantly fighting for social justice that absolutely calls the police every time she sees a a tent in the local park and I had an old coworker who repeatedly talked about how toxic our boss was that also said he was her mentor and inspiration when he got team lunch for her promotion. The people you know who talk the talk and walk the walk are the minority. Regardless of if OP is from the US or not, they understand the people here better than you, a native.

P.S. I do find it funny all the people who pretend like they hold the will of the revolutionaries from 1776. 1) All those people were racists who wanted to steal Native American land and 2) They weren’t afraid to suffer for a bit without something like Starbucks or cheap factory farmed meat and fast fashion. Do you know how hard it would have been to boycott England? And, if you broke the boycott then you could have been killed by a mob as a loyalist instead of just needing to cross a picket line

[strawchocoberry]

KISS UNDER THE MISTLETOE 

They say, “All good boys go to heaven.” But bad boys bring heaven to you.

New Year’s Eve finds you at the house of a dear friend, surrounded by your beloved friends, chatting, eating and drinking, as you await for the new year to arrive. Just a small gathering of good friends. 

And while everyone is marvelling and discussing the present their secret santa brought them, he finds his chance to sneak you out of the living room. The devilish smirk on his lips tells you all you need to know; this demon has one last trick up his sleeve as the year is nearing its end. 

He pulls you to an empty hallway, away from prying eyes. You don’t have the time to even ask what he’s planning, when you feel his hands sliding up the skirt of your dress. You watch him completely frozen as he tears a hole into your tights, your eyes darting towards the lively party, scared that someone might walk in after hearing the sound. 

“Don’t worry,” he purrs in your ear, biting your earlobe. “They can’t hear a thing with the music.” 

“What are you…” Your sentence trails off as your eyes widen, watching him slide your panties to the side and kneel down. 

“We’re under a mistletoe,” he says cockily, kissing your inner thigh, while pointing at the mistletoe hanging on the light above your heads. “I gotta kiss your lips.” 

Blushed, you reply, “I don’t think that’s how it’s done.” 

“Nobody said which set of lips I gotta kiss.” 

You want to smack him, but you can’t. He buries his face between your thighs, eating you out shamelessly, not caring if someone passes by and sees you. You cover your mouth with your hands, trying to muffle your moans. 

It’s only when you start hearing the commotion, the telltale sign that the countdown is going to start soon. He’s quick to get back on his feet. You think you’ll return to the living room, even though you’re too frustrated he got you worked up but didn’t let you finish. Before you can even move to leave, he kisses you, pinning you against the wall, letting you taste yourself on him. 

You hear the unmistakable sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers and you tense. You look at him pleadingly and he meets your gaze with his arrogant, challenging one. You feel him rub his cock on your glistening folds. But even if you wanted to push him away, he’s too strong, holding you captive, trapped between his solid body and the hard wall. 

He pushes the crown of his cock onto your hole, but not yet pushing it in, just teasing you. He kisses your neck and you hate how he’s got you turned on, all wrapped up around his finger—his cock—loving how you start to grind your hips against him, trying to take him into your aching pussy. 

He thrusts inside you, his hands holding your waist, as his kiss devours your moans. Your little cunt is gripping him so tightly, he feels he might cum right now. But first, he needs to finish what he started earlier—when he started eating you out, only to leave you hanging on the verge of your impending orgasm. 

The countdown begins a few minutes later. 

“10… 9… 8… 7…” 

He kisses your neck, as you bite your lip against your moans and whimpers, the sound of skin slapping against skin barely registering over the chaos in the living room. 

“6… 5… 4…” 

You feel your orgasm reaching its peak, him having to kiss you to prevent you from screaming his name as he fucks you straight into the new year. 

“3… 2… 1…” 

You hear fireworks signalling the start of the new year. But you’re too lost in your own explosion, shuddering against him, as your orgasm floods your body like a tidal wave. You want to be mad, but your mind is too lost in your orgasmic bliss to properly glare at him.

“Happy new year, my love,” he whispers on your lips with his signature cocky smirk. 

“Happy new year, bastard,” you retort breathlessly, kissing him again. 

michael kaiser . shidou ryusei . oliver aiku . otoya eita . hoshina soshiro . narumi gen . umemiya hajime . togame jo . endo yamato . kiryu mitsuki . gojo satoru . geto suguru . hirako shinji . kyoraku shunsui . jin marito . sakamaki ayato . sakamaki laito . cú chulainn . chris redgrave . ichinose guren . nicholas d. wolfwood . andy . miyama kirishima . tartaglia . wriothesley . jiaoqiu . aventurine . sampo + your favourites <3

© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 4: Give Your Heart A Break

summary : vi and (y/n) reconnect and give each other a second chance.

mentions : smut, strap on, fingering, switch, multiple orgasms, oral sex, nipple play, whatever else I left out!

notes: i am blessed to collab with one of my closest moots @athena-winters13! she wrote this beautiful smut 😫 (cause im horrible at it.) im forever grateful for her taking the time to do this for me. please check out her work on ao3. here are some of my personal favorites:

undercover and under the covers - sevika

sevika baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight - sevika

red rooms and tie-ups - sevika & ambessa

go check her out!

The drive back to Vi’s place was full of sexually charged tension. There was only silence and the sound of the road, no words were exchanged because the both of you knew what would happen when you got there. You were excited, no doubt, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite get past all the terrible things Vi had said to you before.

As you finally make it back to her place, she opens the door for you, smiling as you walk through. Vi follows behind closely, shutting the door and locking it before turning to face you.

She steps forward, placing a hand on the back of your neck to bring you closer, but you briefly stop her, “Vi wait- I- I need you to tell me something. All those things you said before, did you mean them? I mean, there had to be some truth to what you said.” You search her eyes for any indication that you were right, but you don’t find it. Instead, her soft eyes look full of pain and hurt.

Vi shakes her head, cupping both of your cheeks and forces you to look her in the eyes. “I didn’t mean any of it. I knew you wouldn’t stay away unless I hit you where it really hurt. I- it was fucked up I know it baby, but I used what you were going through against you so you would be sure to stay away. I’m so sorry. I want t- I will make it up to you, I promise. If you let me.” Vi’s eyes flit back and forth between your eyes and lips.

You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding, and pull her into a tight hug. You breathe in the smell of Vi that you had been missing for what feels like forever. It would take a lot for her to make up for her cruel words, but this didn’t seem like a bad start, not in your drunken state.

When you’re satisfied with the hug, you pull back, stepping a few feet away from Vi as she just watches patiently. “Alright, show me how sorry you are.” You brush your honey-blonde hair over your shoulders and stand in the middle of the living room, waiting for Vi to respond.

Vi’s eyes seem to darken, a wide grin covering her face, “yes, yes to that.” She’s on you in a second, bending slightly to grasp the backs of your thighs and hoist you up, carrying you back to the bedroom and ever-so-gently placing you on the bed.

It’s a process to get you out of your dress, but Vi is patient, not rushing or breaking anything even though you can tell she’s pent up. Once you’re left in your bra and panties you surge forward, pulling at Vi’s shirt after she removes her jacket. She chuckles, “eager?”

You don’t bother answering, instead, you let your actions speak and yank upward to remove her shirt fully. You attempt to start at her jeans, but she just pushes you onto your back, climbing on top of you. She kisses you with a desperate intensity, making you moan into her mouth and do your best to keep up with the kiss, after all you were desperate too.

It had been quite a while since you trusted someone to get you vulnerable like this, but even after the bad things Vi said in the past, you still trusted her with your body. She knew how to take care of you and your needs. “Vi,” you pull back from the kiss and grab her hand, guiding it to your breast, “show me.” You urge her again, the alcohol giving you enough confidence to boss her around, though you suppose you deserve it after how cruel she was when she left you.

Vi bites her lip, reaching around to remove your bra and cups both of your breasts before giving them a squeeze. You sigh out breathily and her eyes darken still, “sorry baby, you’re just so pretty it distracts me. I really am so sorry. I thought about you every day, no one could ever compare to how you make me feel, you complete me, pretty girl.”

She bends down, pulling your nipple into her soft mouth. You arch into the stimulation, grabbing the back of her head to keep her in place. When you accidentally tug her red locks too hard she bites your nipple in retaliation and you moan loudly, but refuse to give up your hold.

She doesn’t say anything but she moves to your other nipple, kissing across your sternum as she goes. Her touch is gentle, yet charged and you can tell she’s holding back, but you don’t want that right now. “Vi, you’re holding back.” You gasp out as she bites your other nipple now.

Vi brings her head up to look at you, a guilty smile on her face, “I just missed you so much, I don’t want to hurt you again.” Her hands move to your hips, thumbs tracing patterns as she waits for you to speak.

“You can be rough, you’re not going to break me honey. I missed you too and I definitely missed doing this.” You offer, watching her face light up with the permission you just gave her.

It seems that’s what she was waiting for, removing your panties in mere seconds and falling down on her stomach to bury her face between your thighs. The way she runs her tongue through your folds makes you arch, attempting to get closer to her insanely warm, wet mouth.

She holds your hips down with her hands, digging in when you arch too much, but quite frankly you can’t help it. She knows your body and just what to do, it seems not even time could change that. Although you know it’ll only make you hotter, you sit up on your elbows to watch her while she licks into you. You whine, making eye contact with Vi as she draws your clit into her mouth and sucks lightly. You can feel just how wet she’s making you, each suck has that feeling in your lower abdomen becoming more unbearable by the second and you drop back down onto your back, moaning her name.

It only spurs her on more and you feel one of her hands release your hip to find your entrance, two fingers circling there, silently asking for permission. “Please Vi, I need you.” You whine, pushing down to try and take her fingers in.

It doesn’t take any convincing and Vi groans against your clit as she pushes her fingers into you. The stretch takes a few seconds to get used to, it has been a while after all, but you adjust quickly because she was made for you and those fingers fit perfectly. She pulls them out, only to push them right back in and curl up toward that spongy spot inside you, all while keeping her mouth moving to suck and lick at your swollen clit.

You throw an arm over your eyes, doing your best to keep your hips still, but it was so damn hard when she seemed to hit every pleasure sensor in your body. Her other hand came up, playing with your nipple and matching each pinch to a suck on your clit and curl of her fingers. She was going to get you there a lot faster than you had thought, “Vi, you’re gonna make me-” you break off into a long moan, throwing your head back and curling your toes against the mattress.

You can feel Vi nod her head against your cunt, encouraging you to do just that, not like you had much choice anyway when that coil in your belly was threatening to snap any second. Each time you clench around her fingers, a jolt of pleasure shoots to your clit and then she pinches your nipple, only furthering the absolute rapture she was giving your body.

You’ve broken out into a sweat now, squirming against the sheets and body becoming engulfed in the flames of your lust. You grab the back of Vi’s head, taking a handful of her hair and forcing her mouth to stay directly on your clit. She grunts in warning, but you don’t even register it, moaning and whimpering with each suck, only pulling her hair harder. And then she perfectly times her mouth, fingers and hand on your breast one last time, sending you into the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had.

Your thighs clamp around her head and tremble as she continues on even after you’ve cum. It takes a forceful tug on her hair to get her off of you and you look down to see her chin covered in your arousal, which only sends another pang of want to your stomach. “You’re not done are you, cupcake?” Vi purrs, slowly removing her fingers from you and sticking them in her mouth to lick them clean, groaning at your taste.

You shake your head quickly, pulling Vi down for another heated kiss. You shove your tongue into her mouth and she matches you, running her tongue over yours and groans at the way you hold her closer still when she sucks on your tongue. “Can I-” you pause to suck in a deep breath, the kiss stealing your oxygen, “can I be on top?” Vi gives you a curious look, brows pinching together in confusion.

You smile shyly at her, pushing back on her shoulders and standing from the bed on weak legs to look through the nightstand drawers. Even though you hadn’t been in her room for over a year, not much had changed and the strap she always used on you was still in its place, untouched. You grab the harness and toy, holding it up while biting your lip. She chuckles, leaning back against the pillows, “I get it now baby, of course.” She pats her thigh, beckoning you over but you don’t budge.

You stay where you are, standing at the side of the bed, “I want you naked. It’s been so long Vi. I need to see all of you, please, I need to feel your skin on mine. I've missed it every day.” You whine, hoping your eyes show the desperation you were feeling. It seems you’ve made your point and you watch Vi eagerly remove the rest of her clothing, throwing it haphazardly to the floor.

Only when she’s fully naked do you climb on the bed, crawling over to her and handing her the items. She moves slowly pulling the harness on, making eye contact with you as she goes. You can’t help but subtly move your thighs together, running your hands up and down her strong legs and doing your best to remain patient.

Your body was all hers tonight and you felt light, the weight of over a year of bad feelings coming to a close. Once the dildo is situated in the ring of the harness you climb on her lap and grab her face with both hands, kissing her deeply. She lets you lead the pace, deepening the kiss but not moving at a frantic pace- you want to savor it. “I love you, Vi.” You whisper against her lips, forehead resting against hers.

She gives you a big, goofy grin and kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Her hands find your hips and she guides you down, looking at you so gently yet so full of hunger.

You keep one hand on her sturdy shoulder, taking your other to hold the toy and help line it up with your entrance. Your eyelids flutter shut, the stretch threatening to render your legs useless as pleasure clouds all of your senses. Vi rubs soothing circles into your hips as you fully take in the length and adjust to it. When you finally open your eyes, you find her already looking at you with something akin to pride, “my pretty girl, you’re so good at taking me in like that.” The words drip past her lips, tone rough from arousal.

It makes your hips jerk forward, moving the toy inside of you and forcing a pitiful whine out of your lips. This time, both hands find her strong shoulders and you slowly rise up, feeling the drag of silicone against your walls. It’s a delicious friction and before long a sloppy sound fills the room, making your face heat up in a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment.

“Violet,” you mewl, fingers digging into the exposed flesh on her shoulders, “please, you feel so good.” You pick up your pace a bit, rising back up quicker and dropping back down to take in the full length of the toy before grinding forward a bit to really feel every last inch.

Vi moves her hands from your hips to your breasts, groping them and squeezing every time you rock forward. “You needed this? Only I can please you like this, isn’t that right baby?” She almost growls the words, voice thick and gruff as her eyes find their way between your legs to watch how the length of the toy is coated in your slick.

You can only nod your head, your hands falling down her shoulders to her chest in order to knead her supple breasts. She was making you feel so good, you wanted to provide her some relief too. Her head drops, clunking against the headboard and she groans out, rich and throaty.

You smile in between soft moans, continuing to pinch and play with her nipples because you knew that got her going. Vi’s hands drop back to your hips and she plants her feet on the bed to start thrusting up into you. Her thrusts jostle you around and make it hard for you to keep your rhythm, your hands dropping to the bed to fist the sheets.

That coil is winding tightly in your stomach again and all you can do is whine and whimper as you dig your nails into the blanket. Vi’s eyes flit back and forth between your wet cunt and your bouncing breasts, “do it baby, I know you want to cum, go ahead.” She grits out, pouding into you from below.

You remove one hand, nimble fingers finding your swollen clit with ease and rubbing like your life depends on it. You become stuck in a chant, your brain only aware of two words in your current state, “yesyesyesyes Viiiii,” you break off, your breath stolen by your intense orgasm and you crumple forward into her bare chest.

Her hands immediately encircle your shoulders and she rubs your back until your breathing gets under control. You sleepily look up at her, kissing her jaw and resting your head in the crook of her neck.

She almost lulls you to sleep, but your hips move a bit and Vi groans underneath you, the harness pressing against her clit. That sound alone reinvigorates you enough to do one last thing. You rise up on your knees, removing the strap from you and lay down with a huff on the mattress. “I’d like to please you too, honey.” Your voice is a bit rough from being overused, but it has the same effect and she begins removing the harness quickly, discarding it on the floor.

Vi gives you a shy smile, she always did feel a bit bad when you offered to return the favor as she wasn’t used to it. Still, she felt comfortable and safe with you, enough that you watched as she spread her legs open for you, allowing enough room for your lithe body to fit in between. You pull your long hair back into a ponytail, laying down flat on your stomach between her spread thighs. Her breaths came faster when you began placing open mouthed kisses on her thighs, inching closer and closer to that red patch of hair and the prize underneath.

You’d missed this as well, how Vi would never rush you even when you knew she was needy because she liked how tenderly you kissed her before you went down on her. You only have so much patience yourself though and bring both thumbs to her lips, opening her up so you can stick your tongue out flat and run it from entrance to puffy clit. She groans on your first pass, allowing her head to fall back and shutting her eyes to savor the feeling. You move slowly, cherishing every second you had down here.

You move your tongue from entrance to clit over and over, waiting for the sign that she needed more. It comes in the form of a calloused hand grabbing your ponytail, forcing your face closer. Vi’s moans and quiet grunts come more frequently as she guides you and you simply allow it. You moan into her soaked folds, lips wrapping prettily around her clit and sucking softly because that was how she liked it. “I need you, need you so fucking much baby. I’m so fucking sorry, I’ll make it up to you fore-” she groans deeply when you moan into her clit, sending the vibrations directly to that sensitive bundle, “-ver.”

You nod your head as much as you can with her tight grip, hands squeezing her thick thighs as you need something to help you ground yourself. You can feel her slick against your chin and you push your face just a tiny bit more into her when her hips start to stutter and tremble.

She’s not far off, her moans becoming breathier and her grip in your hair bordering on painful. Just a few more suckles on her clit send her plummeting off that ledge, her muscular legs locking up around your head, forcing you to remain in place against her. After a few seconds she reopens her legs and lets go of you, allowing you to rest your head on the inside of her thigh. “Should I run us a bath?”

You giggle, sitting up to smile at her and place a tender kiss on her toned stomach before you lay on her chest for a few quick snuggles.

The soft warmth of the sun slowly coaxed you awake, its golden rays streaming through the half-drawn curtains of Vi's bedroom. You groaned quietly, squinting against the light as you stirred, feeling a comforting weight draped over your waist. It took a moment for the fog of sleep to lift, but when it did, you realized where you were—and who you were with.

Turning your head slightly, you saw Vi lying beside you, her face serene in the morning light. Her messy pink hair splayed across the pillow, some strands sticking to her forehead, and her lips were parted just slightly as she breathed softly in her sleep. Her arm was wrapped securely around you, as though she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

Your heart ached at the sight. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, and you couldn’t stop the soft smile that curved your lips. The familiarity of her scent, the warmth of her body pressed against yours, the steady rhythm of her breathing—it was everything you’d missed.

Unable to help yourself, you shifted closer to her, resting your head against her chest. Her heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, and you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. It felt like time had frozen, like the world beyond this room didn’t exist, and for a brief, precious moment, everything was perfect.

But then, you felt her arm tighten around you. Your eyes snapped open, your body tensing slightly as you realized she was awake.

“Morning,” Vi murmured, her voice low and husky from sleep. Her eyes were still closed, but the small, lazy smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

“Morning,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible.

She pulled you closer, burying her face in your hair and pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Missed this,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice cracking just slightly.

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you stayed there, wrapped up in each other. Vi’s fingers began tracing soft patterns on your back, her touch light and soothing, and you felt yourself relaxing against her. She tilted her head, her lips brushing against your forehead again as if she couldn’t get enough of you.

“I love you,” she finally said, her voice firm yet tender. The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning and emotion.

Your breath hitched, and you tilted your head to look at her. Her eyes were open now, the vivid blue of her irises locked onto yours. You saw the vulnerability there, the raw honesty, and it made your heart ache. Last night wasn’t a dream.

“I love you too, Vi,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I always will.”

Relief washed over her features, and she leaned in to kiss you. It wasn’t hurried or desperate; it was slow, deliberate, and filled with all the love and longing she hadn’t been able to express. Her hands cupped your face, her thumbs brushing over your cheeks as she deepened the kiss, and you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her hair.

Minutes passed in a blissful haze, and when you finally pulled back for air, Vi pressed her forehead against yours, a soft grin tugging at her lips.

“Guess we’ve got a lot to make up for,” she teased gently, her voice tinged with emotion.

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Yeah, we do.”

The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by a soft buzzing sound. You frowned, glancing toward the nightstand where your phone was charging. Reaching over, you grabbed it and saw the time. Your heart dropped.

“Crap,” you muttered, sitting up abruptly.

Vi propped herself up on one elbow, her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I have dance practice in twenty minutes,” you groaned, scrambling to find your clothes.

Vi flopped back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Practice can wait,” she drawled, reaching out to grab your wrist and gently tug you back toward the bed.

You laughed, dodging her attempts to pull you back down. “You’re not the one who has to deal with my manager,” you teased, quickly slipping into your clothes.

She pouted, sitting up as she watched you get ready. “Fine, but you’re coming back later, right?”

Pausing, you turned to look at her. She sat on the edge of the bed now, her hair messy, her t-shirt rumpled, and her eyes still half-lidded with sleep. She looked so beautiful it hurt.

“Yeah,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll come back.”

Her grin was lopsided and filled with so much love that it made your heart skip a beat. She leaned forward, pulling you into one last kiss before letting you go.

With one final glance back, you grabbed your things and headed out, already counting down the hours until you could be back in her arms again.

psa : i have not proof read any of my part 🧍🏾‍♀️

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 7 - Everybody Wants to Rule the World

[Also Available on AO3]

Summary: Laswell delivers intel that leaves the team dealing with a ticking clock and the risk of Soap and Ghost's lives being in danger

Warnings/Tags: Minors DNI, swearing, smoking, character with trauma, established relationship, dialog heavy chapter, military inaccuracies

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC - 3rd person POV (Rory Sinclair)

Word count: 2.5 K

A/N: the further continuation of Rory's story, this follows and expands upon the COD: MW2 reboot canon. Told from Rory's POV.

I always have at least one "It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be done chapter" and this feels like it might be it. Lot's of dialogue and characters standing around. I tried to make it entertaining, but alas, it is an infodump chapter

November 2, 2022 19:30 - Somewhere over the East Coast of the United States

Lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the fuselage in flight, the soothing numbness of weighty limbs that came with the pain medication kicking in, and the bone weariness from the excitement of the past few days, Rory had barely been able to keep her eyes open. Her lids were as heavy as bunker doors, eyes rolling back until irises gave way to whites, her head lolled backwards against the headrest and she faded into a sleep deprived state of unconsciousness. 

“For what,” she asked, rubbing at her eyes, sweeping away the sandy particles that had collected in the corners, attempting to erase the glue that had adhered her fan of dark lashes together in a bid to catch up on some much needed rest. With a stretch of her legs right down to her toes, fanning out inside her boots, and a crack of her back, she forced herself to focus. “Did we land already?”

The sound of twin turbine engines roared throughout the cabin in a swell, the orchestral brass section of a vehicle built for war rumbled up through her feet and into her joints. A thunderous lullaby of bellowing white noise surrounded her as she slept like the dead until startled awake by John nudging her leg with his knee and giving her shoulder a squeeze. She blinked around the interior of the plane groggily, trying to gather her bearings. Momentarily confused and disoriented, tense, until the low husk of his murmured voice curled around her with the weight and comfort of one of his oversized sweaters, and the sweet, earthy aroma of smoke carried on his breath.

“Need you awake for this.”

“Dropped off Laswell, en route to Texas as we speak, we’ll get across the border to Mexico from there.”

“Fuck me,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. “Really must have been out of it, eh?”

Yanking one of the cigarettes from the pack, Rory brought it to her lips and pulled out her lighter, setting the flame on the end. “Watch your tone, Sergeant. Might just find yourself on latrine duty back at base,” she said with a smirk, closing the lid on the flame and extinguishing it. 

“You’re doing just fine, Lieutenant,” Gaz ribbed, holding out his pack of cigarettes for her, shaking them like a packet of dog treats. “Managed to go without drooling on the boss’ shoulder and everythin’.” His chuckle quickly followed by a swift elbow nudged into his side by the female member of their party.

“You wouldn't.”

“Try me,” she replied with playfully narrowed eyes, a curling half grin pulling one side of her mouth taut around the cigarette.

The sound of the CIA Station Chief’s voice immediately dragged Rory back into focus, and the mask of professionalism slipped down over her features once more, schooling them into neutrality. “Back to work already, I see.”

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Sinclair.” Laswell’s voice came from the laptop, voice muffled over the built-in speakers. Her tired eyes on the screen were the only thing visible as she held a mug of coffee up to her lips. 

“Always. Sorry to wake you from your catnap, but it was important you heard this as well.”

“I'm all ears.”

The clink of Laswell’s mug hitting the desk was ominous, the only sound in the silence that settled before she spoke. “Botha never arrived.”

“What do you mean they never arrived?” She pulled the cigarette from her lips and sat forward, arms resting on her thighs. “They can't have been bloody spirited away,” she snarked, gesturing with the cigarette in her hand. “They have to be somewhere.” Sitting there stunned, head falling back against her seat, Rory took a heavy breath and tried to ground herself. Eyes snapping open, she met the screen with Laswell’s visage. “Konni?”

Blinking a few times, Rory wasn’t entirely sure she was cogent enough before the words hit her like a slap to the face and she was instantly made alert at the alarming news. The cigarette jostled on her lip as she spoke, mumbling around it. “I'm sorry, what?”

“I know you sent him off with Delaney a few days back… but they never arrived on American soil.”

“Haven’t been able to confirm that yet.”

“What do we know?” Price stepped in, taking control of the situation.

“There have been no moves made for a black box recovery, but the plane never landed. There were no distress calls made either.”

“Aerial strike of some kind?”

“I’d assume so, yeah. Likely didn’t get a chance to respond.”

Rory chewed on her inner lip, raking her fingers through her hair, the ashes at the end of her cigarette crumbling to the floor between her boots – and then it hit her. “So either Konni finally tied up that loose end… or someone buried the lead. Perhaps whoever it was that let the American missiles land in the hands of the enemy in the first place. Missiles that no one knew were missing to begin with. If they’ve got access to weapons that were off the books, what else are they capable of?”

“They’d have to be fairly powerful to have access to weaponry and tactics like that,” Kate confirmed.

Price reared up from his seat, his glower focused on the woman sitting beside him. “You don’t think –”

“I think he’s always been a bit of a dodgy blighter – willing to fight dirty. And I think it might have bitten him in the arse this time.” She turned her attention back to the screen in John’s lap. “Kate, what do we know about Shadow Company aside from being in Shepherd's back pocket?”

“I think someone who’s able to get a task force made up of British Special Forces operatives up and running from out of nowhere is capable of anything. Just like we are.” Rory drummed a thumb on her thigh. “Not to mention he’s got his own PMC at his beck and call.”

“You think Shepherd did this?” John growled.

“Rory,” he growled out her name, something feral brewing in his stare. “If he’s willing to use whatever resources he’s got at his disposal to kill your target, what makes you think he wouldn’t do the same to Soap and Ghost?”

“I'll do some digging.”

Slamming the lid of the laptop shut, Price’s head snapped towards Rory, a quiet fury rolling within the placid depths of his irises, moments before they would become raging storms. “What makes you think it’s Shepherd?”

“What makes you think that it’s not?” she asked, looking taken aback, surprised by his unwillingness to accept her line of reasoning.

“Because he’s got my men working for him on a mission about those fuckin’ missiles,” he snarled.

She sucked her teeth, pursing her lips, before sucking the plump flesh between her teeth and worrying at her pout. “So it’s not trust then, is it? It’s just hope.”

John was protective, he always had been, there was no denying that fact. And he was no different when it came to the lives of his men. Men he had dragged into this, men he had chosen specifically for their skills, for the trust he had in what they would bring to his team. And now that trust was being turned against him by Shepherd, a man he had been foolish enough to allow to use him as a tool in the war they were fighting, one they had been fighting for too long. 

She could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the rigidity. Beating himself up in silence for believing that someone at the top might have actually had some sort of relative honor like him. That he put his life, and the lives of others as their commanding officer, into the hands of a man so ready to wash himself clean of them all made him twitch, his mouth curling with barely hidden disgust. Led astray by his own instincts, he could lose grip of just how much freedom he actually had while still acting as a cog in the machine. The herding dog pulling away from the pack to snarl at the wolves, to beat them back, taking on beasts bigger than him without fear, until returning with a bloodied muzzle, he would know that those under his protection were safe once more. 

“Because that would be absolutely reckless. Not to mention putting his own head on the chopping block. There is no way he is that foolish when it comes to cleaning up a mess like this.”

“An animal backed into a corner goes for the throat,” Price rumbled, his voice low, dangerous. “Shepherd’s not one for complacency.” His mouth scrunched at the thought of what could happen to his men under the General’s orders. “And neither am I.”

“So we’re going in looking for a fight already, boss?” Gaz cocked his brow and glanced past the bickering couple.

“We’re looking after our own,” Price rasped, stare dead set, jaw locked tight.

November 4, 2022 00:30 - Fort Bliss, El Paso, Texas

The wait for a helicopter to be refueled and made ready for flight had given them time to set up shop and ready themselves for taking on the cartel, terrorists, and the suspected – and likely– threat from inside of Shepherd and Graves. The table they stationed themselves around was littered with intel, all they had collected from Ghost’s earlier reports about Las Almas, the Los Vaqueros, and their run in with Hassan Zayani.

The three soldiers leaned over the table, planning, preparing, ready to strike, when the radio on Price’s vest chirped to life. 

“Watcher-1 to Bravo-6. Watcher-1 to Bravo-6–”

“Here, Kate,” Price said, gripping his radio tightly in one hand, while the other pressed to the table, his weight resting on it.

“Hope you’re sitting down. I got my hands on the redacted intel of the century.”

“Go on.”

“The whole reason Graves and Shadow are under Shepherd’s control comes down to finances. Looked into Shadow's origins. Didn't take long before it fell into the red. Shepherd bailed Graves out.”

“Two months ago there was a black bag operation in Al Mazrah, headed by General Shepherd and carried out by Shadow Company. They were transporting ballistic missiles to our allies fighting the Russians in the Middle East. Reconnaissance had said the route was clear – it was incorrect. They were intercepted by a Russian PMC, one we now know to be Konni, thanks to Rory’s work. They took out all survivors and got a hold of Shadow’s comms,” Kate sighed and continued. “The shipments were illegal and off the books. The entire mission buried by Graves and Shepherd. Three missiles were stolen, we’ve only found two. We need to find the last one.”

“Why would Graves be willing to shoulder a burden like that with the General, why not wash his hands of it? Come clean?” Price’s heavy brow knit together in a tight weave of frustration, moving to stand tall, back straight, shifting his weight slightly as if ready to start pacing. The energy stirring to life within him to fight.

“And made a PMC into his own personal army. Wonderful,” Rory scoffed and shook her head. “So it’s not even a question of loyalty, Shepherd outright owns him.” 

“They both got dirty and they've tried to keep it hidden. Now they're willing to do whatever necessary to make sure it stays that way. Picked up on comms chatter. Shadow's overtaken the Mexican Special Forces base in Las Almas.”

“What?” Price’s eyes flared, halting his movements instantly, his hands gripping at the shoulder straps of his vest with white knuckled strength.

“They've detained anyone who has had contact with the mission, either through the cartel or the missiles.”

“Detainment isn't a permanent solution.” Gaz’s jaw clenched, the tic of a snarled lip lasting for only a moment. “The fact that they were quick to take Botha out of the equation makes it worse. Ghost and Soap are in danger.”

“So is Colonel Vargas, my contact.”

The Lieutenant and the Sergeant were a threat to Shepherd’s goal of burying the problem he had helped create. Like nuclear waste having to be buried miles deep in clay and stone to keep the radiation from leaking out and contaminating the earth around it, it had been the General’s goal to keep this out of the light of day. So much so, he was willing to throw out the baby with the bathwater to hide the mistake he had made. 

Rory folded her arms over her chest, her one hand coming up to rub absentmindedly at the scabbed over cuts on her cheek, the last reminder of a life she had fought to save, and for what. “So we're on a ticking clock, and not just because of a lost missile.”

“There's a prison the Special Forces use. High security. If Graves wanted a place to store a problem until there was a more permanent solution, that would be a good choice.”

“Right, then we head there.” Price’s fingers pressed to the table top, splayed apart, tapping them slightly against the metal as the gears spun behind his eyes. “Kate, keep an ear on the chatter and send me the blueprints for the prison. We need to figure out the best way in before we get there.”

“Will do.”

“Bravo-6, out.”

Turning to Rory, Price’s head tipped to the side. “You still think Shepherd’s unwilling to take out our own?”

Working her jaw from side to side, her whole face pinched into an angry purse. The sour tang of bitterness was a pervasive taste that caked her tongue. “Suppose you weren't the only one holding out hope. I can't believe he'd go this far. Why burn bridges like this, make himself the enemy? It’s completely illogical.”

“Because Shepherd likes being in control,” he snarled. “He's used to working in the black like us. Sees things as winning’ and losin’, not maintainin’ allies. No such thing as loyalty with him.”

“That's a dangerous spot for us to be in then, eh? Having to rely on him…” Her words trailed off and the small crumb of fear she carried with her, and the weight of just how much Shepherd knew about them all, darkened her gaze. 

John gripped the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his body rigid, stiff as he rested her head under his chin. The sturdy force she could lean on. “We arent relyin’ on him. Not anymore,” he growled. Tipping his chin to his chest, he leaned back to look down at her and gave her nape a squeeze. “We cut ties, same way he was willin’ to deal with us.”

[candy-swol-man]

heyoooooooo

9, 14, 20, 26

9. Best childhood moment?

No single memory, but all my collective memories of going to visit my aunt and uncle at their lake-house are some of my favorites. I loved being on a boat and swimming is really the only way to get me physically active even now. But yeah, visiting there was always a blast and my favorite part of summer break as a kid.

14. What's something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Ngl, everyone in my fam has decided they're going to plan ALL they're events in fuckin October for some reason and I've just been trying to take it day by day recently. Honestly, my first thought was "for the holidays to be over" lol, because this shit is just getting started. FUCK THIS DRAFT THE TRAILER FOR SUBNAUTICA 2 JUST DROPPED AND THATS WHAT I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO HOLY SHIT LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOO

20. Tell us about a memory you hold close to your heart

Sneaking out to go star gazing on the roof with my best friend/partner ❤. I was still living with my folks at the time and they were still V E R Y helicopter-y even as I was going to college. I was finally getting fed up enough to start rebelling and around that time there was a small meteor shower going on that my partner's whole fam was planning to stay up for until like 3 A.M. He invited me and that might actually be the first time I've ever snuck out in the middle of the night. His fam turned in a bit earlier than they were intending, but myself and my partner stayed up until 4 just chatting and watching the shooting stars

26. If you could live anywhere with anyone you want, where would it be and who would you bring?

Nearby a lake ❤ with my partner. Ideally forestry in the front yard, and a big ass lake in the back. Really, I just love being near the water. Beaches are nice too, but I would much prefer to live by a lake. I live in a desert and summers. suc. It climbs up to 115F in summer and stepping outside immediately puts me in a bad mood and I hate it 💀.

[mayomkun]

Finally done with teen wolf rewatch. Phew

[musical-chick-13]

It is because these people are stupid. Hope this helps.

[parkersbliss]

you lock the 141 outside your house (I know my rights tiktok)

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x american!female reader 

synopsis: you lock them out of your (their?) house, claiming you "know your rights." based on a tiktok trend with soldiers.

warnings: none just fluff and humor :)))

a/n: I wrote this in like an hour and I think it's the funniest thing EVER thanks

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

SEE TIKTOK HERE

—

Ghost: 

You watch as your boyfriend gets out of his truck in the driveway. He grabs his bag from the passenger seat and makes his way to the front door, a smile twitching under his mask at the sight of you waiting for him. 

Just as he steps to the porch, you close the door and lock it. “I know my third amendment rights!”

Ghost stops at the door, dropping his bag. Rights? What were you talking about? “Your what?” 

“No Soldier shall, in time of peace, be quartered in any house without the consent of the owner,” You reply, reading off your phone. 

Ghost sighs. Third amendment? Of course, the one American he dates is the one that has them all memorized. You could probably recite them in your sleep. Patriotism, or whatever. Which makes zero sense. You were living with him in Manchester. If all went well and you got married, he was making sure he changed your status to British. 

“You fucking Americans.” He grabs the key from his bag, going to unlock the door only to find you locking it. “Are you serious?”

You show your phone at him through the glass, the third amendment displayed on a Google search. He stares back at you from his mask, unamused. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters. 

You giggle from behind the door and give him a few more minutes before going to unlock it. You knew Simon’s limits. You only needed a few seconds of fun anyway, but by the time you unlock it, he’s gone. 

“Simon?” You call out, poking your head out the door and checking around the house. His truck was still there, so he didn’t turn back around. You don’t see any movements or even hear anything. Was he picked up by aliens? 

A thud sounds from behind you, and you yelp, shutting the door and turning around. 

Simon stands in front of you, arms crossed and his duffel bag on the floor.

“What the hell?” You said, looking him up and down. 

“I should be asking you that,” He retorts. “You should really lock your windows, love.” 

“Are you… did you climb through one?” 

“You locked me out.” 

“I went to unlock it!” 

“Third amendment rights, my arse.” He grabs your waist, pulling you towards him. “We’re in England.” 

You shrug, tracing up his arm. “Thought it was funny.” 

Simon just sighs. “Americans.” 

Gaz: 

“Oh, hell no!” You exclaim as Gaz approaches the door. “I know my third amendment rights.” The lock clicks. 

“No fucking way,” Gaz said, strolling up to the glass storm door. 

“No soldiers in this home.” 

He stares at you, his hands on his hips and that signature scowl on his face. There was no way he was coming home to this bullshit right now. “Open the door.” 

“No quartering soldiers without my permission,” You replied. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. Your home? He was pretty sure his name was on the mortgage, even if you were living in it 90% of the time. “I own the fucking property! I live here. You’re the guest.” 

You shrug, grinning. “Not anymore.” 

He runs a hand down his face. Sometimes just sometimes he regrets finding your stubbornness so damn attractive.  “I’m going to crash out, actually.” 

“Crash outside? Yeah.”

“Let me in!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle and jiggling it. 

“No!” You shout back, holding onto it and preventing him from entering without your permission. 

Gaz leans against the glass. “Remind me why I chose to date an American?” 

You smile at him. “Because we’re funny, and we have better Chinese food.” 

He glares at you, trying to unlock the door again. He groans when there’s no avail. “Babe!” 

You say nothing, finding his annoyance quite amusing and a change of pace for once. 

And then he actually crashes out, grabbing the handle and pulling, twisting, pounding at it. He yells a string of curse words and then starts banging on the doorframe. He gives up, frowning, and leans his forehead on the glass. “Please?” 

You unlock it. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

He storms inside, throwing you over his shoulder. “You are so in for it.” 

“I like where this is going,” You giggle as he throws you on the couch. 

He raises a brow, hands coming to your waist. “Yeah?” He starts tickling you. You yelp, laughing under him and trying to push away. 

Gaz doesn’t relent and continues tickling you even after you’ve pleaded with him to stop. “You lock me out of my fucking claim it’s your right,” He mutters. “Consider this my very reasonable punishment.” 

Soap: 

“I know my rights!” You shout, watching Soap approach the door. 

He stops in his tracks, tilting his head. He had no idea what you said. The poor guy could barely hear from all the bombs going on around him, and you shout through a door? Good plan.  “What are you on about?” He asked. 

“There will be no soldiers in my home!” You close the glass door and lock it. 

He approaches the front door, staring at you through the glass. His expression is clueless, brows furrowed. “You mean our home?” He knocks on the glass. “Can I come in?” 

“Nope!” 

He frowns. “Why?” 

“Third amendment.” 

“Amendment?” He scoffs. What the hell are you talking about? Is this what he gets for dating an American? You start proclaiming your rights? What’s next, the pledge of allegiance? “Are you taking the piss? Does this look like the land of the free?” 

You giggle at him, his accent thickening with his frustration. “I’m still an American!” 

“Trust me, I know! Can I please come inside?” 

“No soldiers allowed.” You tape up a piece of paper displaying those words. 

Soap continues frowning at you and realizes he isn’t going to be let in anytime soon. It’s a good thing he knew how to easily change that. Americans and their rights. More like Americans and their feelings. He sits down on the porch steps, facing away from you, rests his chin in his hand, and sighs loudly. 

You don’t budge. 

He sighs again, kicking his boots on the porch, turning back at you with sad eyes. Still nothing. He concludes there was one last option to get you to let him in. He grabs his phone, and you watch with furrowed brows as he types something in. Suddenly, music is blasting from his phone as he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes ever. Not just any music, but the sad hamster violin music. 

“Oh my god.” You unlock the door, opening it up to him. “You’re such a baby.” 

He practically skips inside, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Your baby.”

Price: 

Your husband stands on the porch, rolling his eyes at you.

“I know my rights!” You shout at him through the window. 

“Do you, now?” He asked, playing along with your prank or whatever this was. If it brought you this much amusement to lock him out, he might as well indulge in it. That was the kind of man he was. Until he started freezing of course, then he would demand you let him in. 

You nod your head. “As an American, amendment 3 of the Bill of Rights says that I don’t have to house you if I don’t want to.” 

Price hums. At least they taught you something in American schools. “Does that extend when you’re in another country?” 

“It does to me.” 

He huffs, grabbing something from his pocket and displaying it to you. “You know I have a house key, yes?”

“I’ll just lock it again.” 

He tilts his head at you. You were really trying to sell whatever rights you thought you had. “Really?” 

“I’m taking this very seriously.” 

Price strokes his beard. “I can see that.” An idea pops into his head, and he steps away from the glass and in front of the door. You didn’t want to let him in? That’s fine. You wanted to lock the door? No problem. He’s got methods of entering from being in the military, after all. “Guess I’ll just have to kick down the door.” He raises his foot, fully intent on doing it. You were going to repaint the door anyway, might as well get a new one. 

You swing open the door. “Are you crazy?” 

He strolls past you. “Did I lock you outside our home? Besides, crazy would’ve been bombing the house.” 

Your lips parted, unsure if he was joking. You assume he is, but his expression says otherwise. “Are you being serious?” 

He laughs at your face, grabbing your hand. “Only if you start proclaiming your rights again.”

You put your hands up. “What rights? Suddenly, I’m feeling like this soldier can stay as long as he likes.” 

Price presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thought so.” 

[cherrygirlfriend]

rafe catching innocentvirgin!reader working out

warnings: smut, no actual sex but like graphic descriptions of fantasies so i think it counts? MDNI this is for my pilates princesses, i'm trying to get into it and whew i have so much respect for yall,,, ANYWAY hope u guys are staying healthy and safe!!! mwah

rafe was knocking on your door impatiently, wanting to see you more than anything after the day he had, finding out that the development he had been busting his ass for for months had been delayed, but you weren't answering the door or even his texts telling you to open the door; that didn't stop him, the man knowing where your parents kept the spare key, getting it out of a pot of asterias, opening the door. you'd told him he could only use it 'only in case of emergencies', but to him, this constituted as an emergency.

rafe didn't bother to put the key back as he walked further into the house, hearing the noise of the television coming from your living room. he made his way to the living room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw exactly what had you so busy.

you were splayed on the floor, a pink workout mat underneath you, watching some workout video on your tv while your headphones were on, wearing a pair of pink fitness shorts that made your ass look so good he was almost drooling, along with a white sports bra, turned away from him, one of your hands splayed on the ground while the other one was bent on your head, one of your knees on the mat while your other was reaching up.

"jesus christ." he mumbled as he stared at you, the curve of your ass in those pink shorts causing his dick to stir in his shorts.

only a few seconds later, you moved to sit down on the mat, only to be startled by your boyfriend shamelessly ogling you, letting out a small gasp as you basically fell on your ass on the mat, your eyes widening.

you took off your headphones, throwing them onto the couch behind you, and even though your face was already warm and flushed, it seemed to get worse when you noticed him staring at you. "rafe!" you exclaimed as you stood up, his eyes now locked onto your hardened nipples under the sports bra, your tits almost pressed together, a sheen of sweat running down your cleavage.

"jesus fucking christ." he said, licking his lips slightly as you took your pink zip-up jacket and put it on, yet the way it clung to your body and the small sliver of your sports bra did almost nothing to hide how delicious you looked. "no, no, baby, don't stop on my accord." rafe grinned, his hands on your waist, aware that he was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on as he pulled you closer.

"i don't want you to see me all gross and sweaty." you pouted, and the way you sucked your lip in made nothing to calm down the obvious tent in his shorts.

"you look so fucking sexy right now." he said, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his hard-on press against your abdomen, the blonde letting out a small groan from only that contact. "literally, i've never... jesus."

"i'm not sexy right now." you roll your eyes, pushing away a stray hair that had stuck to your cheek, trying to look down in embarrassment.

"you're kidding, right?" rafe snorted, his hand going lower and lower, almost going to the curve to your ass. "i think you can feel how sexy you look, huh?" he took hold of your chin with his fingers, and lifted it up, making you look up at him. "if you didn't want to wait longer, do you know the things i'd do to you?"

"w-what?" you asked in a way that was almost a whisper, biting your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes.

"fuck, i'd just rip that cute little set off and take you right here on the couch. i'd make you ride me, give you a workout that's much better than this crap you're doing, your tits bouncing in my face, my hands gripping those pretty thighs... shit, i might cum just thinking about it."

you softly smacked him in the chest, feeling a warmth in your abdomen only he managed to cause, sure that you'd never blushed so hard in your life. "raafee..."

he brings your face up to his, bringing your lips to his as he bent down slightly, the kiss much more heated than any other kiss that you'd shared, his hand now on the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that made you gasp against his lips, his other hand now in your hair.

after a moment, you pulled away breathlessly, his erection had somehow gotten even worse than before, your lips swollen and a doe-eyed look in your eyes. "we should... uh, we should stop, since, you know..."

"yeah, i know baby." he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, before chuckling softly. "god, i'm not gonna forget this little outfit in a while. lemme take a pic of it?"

"noo, i look gross!"

"don't talk about my girl like that." he tsked, taking hold of your jaw. "come on, i need something to get myself off to later."

"alright, fine." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, before letting out a small chuckle as you started unzipping your jacket.

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2