#the momentary ego rush

[lady-raziel]

Was having dinner with some new people last night and a reference to Dashcon came up, and one of the guys had no idea what that was, so those of us who knew were trying to explain and of course visual aids were necessary so I googled “dashcon ball pit” to show him and. one of my memes. came up. as one of the top results.

I know what I’m about to say so I’m not saying it lightly: I think I just won the internet

[theelizamanelli]

Look at the Size of his Ego

Pairing: Aaric Graycastle x Female OC one shot Word count: 3.5k Rating: 18+, mdni Tags: golden retriever x black cat, fourth wing universe, enemies to lovers, fighting, blood and violence, dominant x submissive, explicit smut Summary: Aaric Graycastle is surprised to find that Evelina Stormbridge has discerned his true identity. After a night of guard duty Aaric finds that Evelina doesn't dislike him as much as she carries on.

——————————————————————————————————

“As if I don’t know who you are, Aaric,” Evelina bit out, taking a step towards him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he avoided her gaze, staring past her towards the rush of students in the hall. His blatant disregard for her intelligence seemingly placing Evelina on edge. 

“I am a citizen of Navarre, do you believe I am so simple that I do not know what our Prince looks like?” she pierced him with an icy glare. 

He took no note of the warning in her tone, acting as if she were merely an inconvenience. “You have me conf-” seething, she stepped behind the pillar - shoving him against the stone. 

Aaric’s green eyes widened in surprise, briefly flashing with a hint of admiration. A small smirk threatening the edge of his lip as he leaned his head against the chill of the wall. 

“I would be careful of the words that come out of that pretty mouth next. I am unsure you are prepared for the consequences,” her face was angled upwards as she stared him down.

“I wouldn’t dare underestimate you, Evelina,” Aaric’s gaze dragged along the features of her face, hesitating on her lips, before returning to her eyes.

She faltered momentarily, her eyebrows creasing before she shoved his shoulder, “Ensure that you heed that advice for the remainder of your time at Basgiath. However short it may be, Your Grace.” 

Evelina adjusted the strap on her shoulder before starting towards Battle Brief, a slight warmth spreading along the tips of her cheeks. 

——————————————————————————————————

Aaric found himself unsure how a momentary slip up at the end of Professor Kaori’s class had ended with his back against the wall and the murderous glare of a pretty girl threatening to swallow him whole. 

He felt positive that despite valiant effort he would be seeing her lips the next time he showered. 

Evelina Stormbridge was a formidable opponent, he had taken notice of her tactics on the mat - they were admirable at best and agonizingly hot at worst. As a fellow first year it was vital to evaluate all of his competition, not just the ones with beautiful form.

She had been sorted into Fourth Wing Claw Section, bonding to a green daggertail which revealed to Aaric that she was notably intelligent but had an unpredictable temper. All five foot five of her had stood in front of him with the aura of a six foot seven man that had a hundred pounds on him.

He shook his head slightly at the thought, a smile playing on his lips at the reminder of her glare. 

“Uh, dude, we are plotting here. Care to join?” Ridoc leaned into his vision, his hand splayed in front of Aaric’s eyes. He swatted it out of his face before turning towards Violet. 

“I wouldn’t say we are plotting, more preparing for the inevitable crumble of our social structure as we know it,” she cocked her head slightly, pursing her lips.

“You should be a motivational speaker,” retorted Ridoc with a chuckle. 

“What an insightful message from our fearless leader,” Rhiannon shook her head. 

“I’m not the leader here - you are,” Violet pointed at Rhiannon before continuing. “Listen, all I am saying is that it’s a matter of time before they all turn on the Fliers. It’s our duty to keep them safe. We are going to divide all Fourth Wing out for guard duty.”

Aaric’s gaze darted to the front row where Evelina sat, writing in a notebook as Professor Devera entered the classroom. Her posture quickly straightened, her attention snapping to the board.

“Did you hear me, Aaric?” Violet inquired, her body slightly leaning forward over the desk.

“Heard,” he turned his attention to the front as Battle Brief began. 

——————————————————————————————————

The sparring mat spread in front of Evelina as she stretched, unsure of who she would be matched up with for the day. The recent introduction of the Flyers had been a welcome change, she had found herself in desperate need of a worthy opponent. 

Her only hope being that they all didn’t disappoint her.

Sitting down with her section, Evelina leaned towards Havana who whispered as she saw Catriona Cordella glaring in Violet Sorrengail’s direction. 

“If looks could kill,” she giggled before redirecting her attention to Emetterio who slowly announced the challenges for the day.

A laugh bubbled up from the Flame Section, Ridoc Gamlyn slapping Aaric Graycastle on the back as he continued his commentary. Aaric’s posture stood impossibly straight, his face refusing to feign interest in what Ridoc had to say. His gaze caught momentarily on Evelina who held his stare - her mouth tight as he threw a smile in her direction.

She huffed at his attempt at camaraderie, averting her eyes back towards Havana. The thought of the hunger in his irises as they lingered on her lips crossing her mind - the back of her neck warming.

“Aaric Graycastle and Evelina Stormbridge,” Professor Devera’s voice broke Evelina’s concentration as she gestured towards the mat.

She stood slowly before walking towards the edge of the sparring ring, careful to analyze Aaric’s movements in case they gave her insight to a weak point. She noted that his stride implied he was nimble for his size. Though she would never admit this out loud, she had found herself on a few occasions admiring his work on the mat. 

Aaric Graycastle was a formidable opponent, a smile threatened to spread across her face.

“Are you prepared for the consequences, Your Grace?” Evelina straightened before placing herself in a defensive stance. From what she remembered of Aaric he often played defense - she would attempt to draw him from his comfort zone.

“Oh, Evelina, I’ve been dreaming of it,” he smirked before mimicking her stance. 

——————————————————————————————————

What Aaric had not counted on was his opponent’s perfume driving him to distraction. He circled Evelina a few times, from what he had catalogued she had an offensive fighting style. He was attempting to calculate the perfect time to strike before she was able.  

“Are you waiting for permission to attack, Graycastle?” she asked, her eyebrows raising. 

Analyzing her side step, Aaric was unsure if she was attempting to manipulate his emotions - goading him into exposing himself by lunging too early. 

“I don’t seek permission to do anything, Evelina. I would think my presence here would make that clear enough for you.” He watched as the corner of her mouth ticked, her eyes darkening. 

She lunged in his direction to which he evaded quickly, attempting to strike her side. She rolled out of the way, breathing hard as she stood.

“That was…a choice,” he cocked his head to the side, darting forward in an attempt to catch her off balance. Dodging towards the ground she threw her legs out to trip him. Aaric jumped before kicking at her chest.

Evelina strategically fell backwards, rolling towards the edge of the mat. 

“I assumed any spoiled rich kid had to be told what to do. My apologies, Your Grace,” She fell back into pace with him, Aaric frowned before throwing a punch which Evelina dodged - grabbing onto his outstretched arm. Using his momentum she flipped him upside down - he landed hard on the ground.

Evelina stood over him, placing her hands on her knees as she bent down, “I see now that your superior upbringing only contributed to the weight of that ego - I am surprised you were able to stay upright for that long,” 

She smiled before retreating from the mat, wiping her hands on her pants. Aaric’s eyes lingered on her frame as she sat back down next to a dark haired girl from the Claw section. 

Breathing heavily, Aaric could feel a familiar tugging in his lower stomach.

——————————————————————————————————

The group of Fourth Wing members that had volunteered for Flier guard duty stood in the assembly hall, Rhiannon divided them into groups of two - assigning each to specific areas. 

“Aaric, you’re with Evelina ,” Rhiannon pointed to the two before turning towards the next. 

“Damn, now if she kicks your ass I won’t be able to watch,” Ridoc whined, shoving Aaric’s back.

Evelina leaned against the wall, her face void of emotion as she pushed from the stone and walked in his direction.

“Good luck, you’re going to need it,” Ridoc whispered before walking back towards Rhiannon. 

Aaric took a step towards her, gesturing in the direction of their assignment. She huffed, rolling her eyes before striding down the hall.

“I didn’t take you for a Poromiel apologist,” he stepped carefully in line behind her as they meandered through the area on guard. 

“I am not a blind follower,” Evelina retorted, her head on a swivel as they entered the academic wing.

“Neither am I,” Aaric continued down the hall, he noted that Evelina faltered slightly at his comment before bristling - returning to her previous rough demeanor.

A rough clatter to the ground caught their attention as they looked towards a classroom, Evelina threw the door open to find a first year tangled with a second year. Aaric bit back a laugh as pink spread through her cheeks, she began to speak but held her breath instead.

He pointed at the two who had startled at their entrance, “You two, back to your dorms - orders from the higher ups!” They quickly straightened their clothes before rushing out the other door. 

She stood in front of him, the burn present on the back of her neck. He leaned down - whispering in her ear, “Everything okay, Evelina?”

Goosebumps erupted along her exposed shoulder - the black tank top a stark contrast to the color threatening to consume the remainder of her body.

She swallowed hard, quick to move forward through the classroom. There was a glint of light streaking from underneath the desk, Evelina leaned down to grasp the object.

“She left he-” she paused as the realization of what she was holding dawned on her.

A pair of pink panties with silver metal hearts in the side gleamed in the moonlight.

“Oh, Evelina,” he murmured as she threw them back to the ground.

“I didn’t realize what they were!” she yelled defensively, turning in his direction.

“Of course you didn’t,” he responded with a sarcastic nod as he took a step in her direction, she shot him a pleading look.

“Please, as if I would even kn-” she paused, shaking her head. “I just mean, I wouldn’t want to pick up someone else-”

Aaric chuckled, taking another step towards her. Evelina retreated slightly, the back of her knees hitting the desk, “I am not explaining myself to the likes of you.”

He momentarily admired the moonlight streaming over her features, the pink of her nose as it scrunched in frustration. He dragged his gaze down to her lips, he could almost taste them - how soft they would feel against his own. 

Evelina squirmed slightly under his gaze, “Listen here, Graycastle. Let’s get one thing straight. I could easily take you down right here, right now if I wanted to.”

“Do you want to?” Aaric asked, his lips curling into a smirk.

She hesitated, noting how his sandy brown locks fell forward onto his forehead as he leaned towards her. 

“You know, Evelina. There are other things that this pretty mouth can do,” his breath was hot on her face as he neared her lips.

She swallowed hard, “We have a job to do, Your Grace.” Her eyes betrayed her - darting down towards his lips.

“Oh, please, Evelina. You haven’t thought about the job once in the last five minutes and we both know it,” she had fully backed against the desk, sitting slightly on the wood as Aaric occupied the space between her legs - staring down at her. 

He reached his hand out, one finger tipping her chin upwards, “Admit it. You want to kiss me as bad as I want to kiss you.”

Evelina licked her lips quickly, his green eyes boring into hers, “I abstain from the question,” her teeth clenched.

Aaric chuckled softly, “Why is that?”

She sighed before responding, “As a rule, I do not lie,” the realization flashed across Aaric’s eyes before his gaze darkened.

“Oh, fuck it,” he muttered before he pressed his lips hungrily against hers. 

——————————————————————————————————

Evelina gasped as he collided with her, his kiss desperately consuming her. Her eyes fluttered closed, she instinctively leaned her head back as his tongue swiped against the inside of her lower lip. 

A moan slipped from her throat, she flinched as he pulled away from her.

“I know you can do better than that, Evelina. Now lay back,” Aaric licked his lips, straightening. 

The haze of lust crowded her mind as she slowly pushed herself back onto the desk, leaning back on her hands as she watched him drink in her body.

His tall form bathed in the soft light of the sky, she could not help but admire how attractive he looked standing over her.

Though she noted that this was the only time she would ever let a man above her. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaric whispered, his hand sliding along the outside of her thigh. 

“Even when I am kicking your ass on the mat?” Evelina breathed out a small laugh as he slid his hands towards her hips, his finger tracing the bare skin exposed by her tank top riding up.

“Especially when you’re kicking my ass on the mat,” he murmured, a shiver sliding through her as his knuckle pulled the waistline down slightly.

Her breath hitched, “Lift your hips, Evelina,” he instructed - his eyes hazy with desire. 

Bracing her hands on the woods, she pulled her hips into the air as Aaric slid the fabric down her legs before throwing them onto the ground. He gazed down at her hungrily, sliding his hand along her bare thighs before placing his palms underneath her knees - pushing them back.

Evelina’s hands slid along the wood as he maneuvered her - her legs bent as she was splayed in front of him. 

“Exactly what I thought…beautiful,” his eyes dragged along her exposed middle - warmth spreading along her face as he licked his lips. 

He slid his hands along her inner thighs before tracing a finger down her heat, she tensed at his touch. 

“I thought you disliked me, Evelina?” he teased, “This suggests otherwise.”

“I don’t dislike you, Graycastle,” she replied softly, “Honestly, I respect you for turning against your own blood in order to stand up for what is right.”

Evelina paused, surprised at her honesty, “Tell anyone I said that and I really will kill you.”

Aaric’s features softened at her confession, his eyes analyzing her face before sighing. 

“Heard,” he slowly bent down to his knees, Evelina leaned forward to watch his descent. At his height he was eye level with where she regrettably wanted him most.

“Are you going to analyze my moves here, too?” he asked with a quirk of his brow. Evelina straightened her shoulders before opening her mouth to protest.

His tongue swirled around her clit in an agonizing circle, her words caught in her throat as her head slowly lulled backwards. 

Oh, fuck.

Aaric pressed his palms into the back of her thighs, forcing her legs further backwards. The angle change elicited a strangled moan from Evelina’s lips, she quickly pressed her hand to her mouth.

Pausing, he pressed his thumb to her clit and rubbed softly before straightening.

“Now, Evelina, take that hand off your mouth. I want to hear you,” his voice was deeper, husky with lust. 

She paused briefly, her eyes widening as he increased the pace - staring at her intently as she slowly dragged her hand from her lips. 

“Good girl,” he breathed before pressing his lips to the lower part of her stomach - sliding one finger inside of her.

Evelina jolted, arching her back with a soft moan. She could hear his low chuckle as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, a second finger slipping into her growing wetness. 

Aaric maintained a rhythm as he kissed the opposite thigh - feeling the reverberation of her trembling. 

He slowly licked her clit eliciting a sharp hiss before sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh, Gods,” Evelina moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

“Your Grace,” he corrected before repeating the motion with his tongue. 

She bucked her hips against his mouth as his fingers continued in an agonizing rhythm that had her teetering on the edge. The familiar build simmered in her core as she writhed against his tongue. 

Aaric increased the pace of his fingers as he sucked her clit inwards, Evelina tumbled over the edge - grasping onto his hair as she arched backwards, “O-oh, fuck, Aaric.”

Breathing heavily, she slumped against the desk as he straightened - looming over her. He licked his lips before reaching his fingers in her direction, “Taste yourself,” he demanded.

Evelina sucked a breath in before opening her mouth slightly, he slid inside - she wrapped her lips on the knuckle before her tongue swirled around her wetness. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured before sliding one hand to trace her neck and the other over her breast. He pulled the tank top down, exposing her nipple to the cool air. Aaric leaned down and sucked it into his mouth.

Evelina wrapped a hand around the back of his neck instinctively, arching into his touch as she moaned. He pressed a soft kiss to her neck before mimicking his previous action with her other breast. 

He groaned as she lifted her hips to drag herself along his pants, “Aren’t you impatient?” 

Aaric dragged a finger across her sensitive clit, she tensed against him with a hiss. 

“What a needy little thing,” he whispered before pressing his lips against hers, Evelina wrapped her legs around his waist before sliding her free hand into his hair. She was desperate for contact, sliding her tongue into his mouth as he pressed his hard length against her bare skin. 

She pulled away, her face flushed as she bit out, “Listen, Graycastle, if you don’t fuck me right now I am going to take matters into my own hands,”

Aaric smirked, “Next time, I am taking you up on that offer, Evelina.” he unbuckled the belt allowing his pants to fall to his ankles. 

Evelina swallowed hard as his length sprung free, cocking her head to the side at how big it appeared. 

No wonder he had an ego. 

She leaned back onto her elbows, pulling her knees back as she stared Aaric in the eyes.

He groaned at the action before grabbing her thighs, sliding her to the edge of the desk. He slid himself against her, gathering the wetness. She shivered at the friction against her clit, her body so warm that she felt as though she was going into a frenzy.

“Stop playing around, Graycastle,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering.

“I thought it was Aaric? Or is that only when I am making you cum?” he smirked before sliding himself inside - he hissed as she moaned. The slow spread rushed to Evelina’s head, the feeling of fullness increasing as she took him inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gritted out as he pressed his palms to the back of her thighs as he peered down at where they were connected. Once he was fully seated inside of her, he paused - his eyes fluttering closed before he sighed.

Aaric opened his eyes, staring down at Evelina’s flushed face as he began to slowly move inside of her.

She groaned as the pleasure spread from the edge of her toes to the tip of her nose, a slow tingle passing through her legs. 

His green eyes bore into hers as she tilted her head back, he increased the pace - pressing her knees further back. The angle change had him slipping deeper inside of her.

“O-oh, fuck, don’t stop,” Evelina moaned, desperately grabbing his hips.

“No intention of that, I promise,” Aaric gritted out, as his rhythm slammed into her. 

She tightened against him as the pleasure reverberated through her, her head dizzy as his pace was relentless, “P-please, fuck. Harder, Aaric,” she begged.

He shifted slightly and followed her instruction - her moans turning into whines as she fell over the edge again. Her legs shaking under his palms as he continued to pound into her, the sound of her wetness echoing through the classroom.

His movements became erratic as his groans deepened, Aaric’s voice raspy as his head fell to her shoulder - bucking inside of her, “F-fuck, Evelina,” 

Aaric breathed heavily, the warmth spreading inside of her as she let her head fall against the wood. He straightened slightly, his green eyes searching her own.

“No Your Grace?” Aaric inquired with a smirk, Evelina smacked him on the shoulder with a shake of her head. 

——————————————————————————————————

Note from the author: Unfortunately I have fallen in love with Evelina so let me know if y'all want more of these two or if a different pairing is what you want to see (I am pondering a Ridoc one shot but have to find a good female OC for him)

[lavendermin]

Ououghhhh vampire Jing yuan jndjejdjcjr

The soft intimacy paired with the bitter twist that comes with it, in the way he holds you so softly as his teeth press into your neck-

There’s equal parts dread and anticipation when your neck is waiting for that familiar prick of sharpened fangs. The momentary few seconds of pain is something you’ll never get used to. But Jing Yuan feels the way your scent grows thicker—heady with the rush of adrenaline pumping through the veins in your neck.

He gulps almost audibly. Parched.

But he needs to keep up this little ritual, for the sake of keeping sane and not devolving to the monotonous cycle of feeding over and over and over like an animal driven by the brink of extinction. He needs to feel.

cw | blood, suggestive

Not human, no. That’s something he’s long given up on.

Just Jing Yuan is enough. To feel like he was, or who he could be, or who he wants to be. Just… him.

Intimacy, longing, exhilaration—he holds back the primal instinct to feed on the crimson life that courses through you. The very essence that keeps him sane for a few spare nights.

Perched on his lap you lay against him, his hands wandering the plush of your thighs so warm and fragrant. There’s still a bandage wrapped around one of them where he sunk his fangs into their inviting delicacy a couple weeks ago. He had his fill in blood and body, his shame put to rest as you gripped his hair and urged him to where you need him—mind high on adrenaline and blood loss.

His breath is hot on your neck as he licks a stripe along the pulse that quickens under his tongue. A tender kiss pressed just under your jaw. His affections—or his preparation as he likes to call it—made you squirm in his lap. It earns a deep, velvety chuckle from him, vibrations you feel against you where you lean further into him.

“I’m beginning to think you look forward to this little rendezvous more than I do, songbird,” Jing Yuan teases. His fang just barely grazes your skin, pulling a stuttering gasp from you.

“Being the general’s lifeline does things to one’s ego,” you bite back with a breathy laugh. A shiver courses through your body as he teasingly presses his fangs just enough to feel discomfort but not enough to break the skin.

“Noticeably, with how you wear rather… enthusiastic outfits to these meetings. What would the people think?” The question is sarcastic with a playful glint in his eye.

“The general I know doesn’t care for rumors as long as peace is long-standing. Besides, I hear the general is quite fond of my daring little red dresses.”

He chuckles at your quick witted arguments. And this is what he most craves. The faux normalcy—the way you never miss a beat, never treat him significantly different with conversations. Just you. Just him.

He nuzzles his nose along a prominent jugular vein, arms hugging you tighter against him. And he breathes in deep, grounding himself and taking in the sound of your pulse that is all too apparent for him. His hunger is progressing.

Jing Yuan acknowledges he is greedy. Definitely needy. It’s a cruel intimacy he seeks from you often. But this is sound company he’s made with a little unconventional transaction between you both.

Of course you love him. You wouldn’t be baring your neck for him every few days if you didn’t. Going through special diets for blood quality and too many doctor appointments to count—your selflessness was your self-destruction. But you wouldn’t put your fate in anyone else’s hand.

He doesn’t envy your humanity. Nor does he wish to make you his equal in this vampiric curse of abundance. It’s simply you and him and these vulnerable moments before he feels less than himself as he takes from you.

[demonicbaby666]

A Workplace Brawl

Kinktober 2023 | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1k

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, just a light bit of fingering really...

A/n: Despite the title, this does not take place in the workplace. I apologise for I am a filthy liar. Also, I rushed this so don't come at me!

‘I fucking hate you’ are the exact four words continuously leaving Emily’s lips, that is, right before she crashes them down on yours. 

It was a rough one today. She’s been working for months to catch the man you’re defending, and all that work had been thrown down the drain due to some idiot filing a key piece of evidence wrong.

Safe to say she’s pissed, and you’re not surprised when a heavy hand pounds violently against your front door. It’s slightly alarming, what with it being close to midnight, but the moment you see that familiar fringe through the peephole, your stomach somewhat settles. 

“Hurry up and open the fucking door.” Emily barks out, hand still thudding on the door.

“Hold on!” You say, unlocking the door and removing the chain, “What brings you to my door in the middle of the night, other than trying to scare the living shit out of me?” 

As she always does, the ravenette doesn’t wait for an invitation. She barges past you before turning around and burning holes into you with her eyes. 

“What the hell was that?” she shouts, and you manage to close the door in time for her bellowed question to be trapped between the walls of your hallway.

“Emily, it’s late. Can we do this another night?” You sigh, “It’s been a long day.” 

“A long day of getting a killer off?” 

You smirk, raising an eyebrow, “As opposed to you?” 

In the blink of an eye, Emily has you pressed against the wall, one hand clasped around your throat and the other traipsing down your body, “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” 

It’s been this way for a while. She gets angry, you get angry, and then one of you ends up against a wall, writhing in pleasure and seething with hate. 

Emily steadies herself, placing a hand on the wall as you grab her hips and pull her further into you. At this point, it’s instinctual. You can’t help yourself from already feeling fired up and enticed by the opportunity presented. 

Her hands easily find the knot tying your robe closed and effortlessly untangle the barrier preventing her from laying her rough touch over your bare skin. Cold fingers brushed over your stomach, sending shivers through your spine. Involuntarily, your head hits the wall as svelte digits dive into your satin underwear to enter your cunt. 

“I’ve bested you numerous times. So yes, I do consider myself pretty smart,” you moan, looping your arms around the ravenette’s neck. 

The comment earns you a sneer and a violent thrust inside you that tempts the low groan lying dormant in your throat to come out of hiding. The agent quickly silences you with a heavy kiss that promises no mercy or leniency. Her deceitfully soft lips press harshly against your disgruntled scowl before a demanding tongue plunges in and shows off the dominance it holds. 

With two fingers pressing firmly against the ridged lining of your inner walls, you become pliant and submit to the swirling muscle venturing through your mouth. 

A smirk paints Emily’s lips, and you let her bathe in her momentary glory before using her inflated ego to your advantage. Flipping the both of you around, you slam the older woman against the wall and snigger at the discontented grunt that comes from the BAU chief, who is accustomed to always being in control.

She gingerly tries to redouble her efforts, fucking faster and harder into you, though you manage to resist in time to mirror her actions. A hand slides down the front of her slacks and meets a sea of arousal, and you can’t help but revel in the mess you single-handedly created. 

“You really must hate me,” you grin, “I can feel the hate dripping down my fingers.” 

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Emily growls, pressing down on your teasing digits and faltering in her efforts to pump into you continually. 

“The first part, I’m not so sure about. The second, however…” Without warning, you slam three fingers inside her and place your thumb over her clit, applying pressure so hard it must be teetering on the brink of painful. 

Emily cries out, and you dive down to tear into the porcelain skin of her neck, forcing her to scream out your name. Her pulse point thrums over your lips, and you pull the steady beat into your mouth. Feeling the older woman’s breathing hitch, you move around the open space, marking a messy array of red blotches into bitter-perfumed skin. 

The fingers inside you remain stagnant, struggling to provide any stimulation other than bursts of shudders that match the agent’s uneven breathing. 

Reaching down, you guide Emily out of you - ignoring the protested whine - and bring her wet fingers to your lips. “You looked so fucking angry when the judge announced the verdict today,” you tease, taking her fingers into your mouth and sucking your arousal clean, “I had to stop myself from fucking that scowl right off your face in front of everyone.”

“I fucking hate you,” she seethes with her teeth clamped tightly - likely trying to stop an impending moan from slipping free. 

Knowing you hold a modicum of power over her in this moment, you seek out the trapped moan by curling your fingers on the following thrusts and circling the engorged clit beneath your thumb. 

The veins in Emily’s neck look close to bursting as she fights her own body’s need for release. Her throat is bobbing despite her sorrowful attempts to level her breathing, and you decide to give her that last push to take her over the edge. 

“I fucking hate you too, but god, do I love fucking you.” You whisper hotly into her ear, slipping your fingers under her shirt and bra to wrap a possessive hand around her bare breast. 

With her hands gripping your hair so tight there’s a likelihood she’s going to pull it out, Emily finally falls apart.

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[itsamebubza]

ficlet under the cut to give a bit of context.

The last couple of weeks, they had been gathering information about a possible, definitive, fix for Karlach’s engine heart. The infernal duo had taken to Avernus, leaving Astarion and Tav to look for a solution on the surface.

Reconnaissance had been boring, and neither Tav nor Astarion were big on planning, but when Tav had stormed in Elfsong in the middle of the day while Astarion dwindled the hours away demanding they both left that very second, his affliction be damned, the situation felt more hopeful.

They had all decided that Karlach’s engine took precedence before Astarion’s malaise, as he could cover up from the sun and Karlach very much remained a ticking time bomb. The group split up, Wyll and Karlach looking through Avernus and, Tav and Astarion searching through Faerûn.

Tav had taken them right outside Manorborn Gate, or more accurately to an old forgotten mansion a couple of streets away from the entrance. A big building with extensive decorations littering the entrance with intricate iron designs.

Astarion pulled his cloak tighter, it was high noon, and even with his momentary solution to his sun allergy by Jaehira, his skin felt prickly and stung slightly.

Tav looked back at Astarion as they finally managed to go inside the building.

“Alright, you should be fine now. Take off that thing, I need your eyes peeled and fully able” they said in practiced calm, their eyes flickering left and right, months working in the dark leaving them skittish in broad daylight in comparison to Astarion, who had been in his element after the grief that first night after the Netherbrain lost. “I’m… not entirely sure what we’re looking for…”

The building was beautiful, if a little predictable in layout and decor, whatever the previous tenants had left behind. The immaculate white walls lead to impossibly long looking hallways as the vitraux windows tinted the rooms in an eerie lilac hue. It felt familiar in an unknowable way, but perhaps his many nightly escapades the past two centuries had lead him into similar mansions before. It was difficult to say.

"Faustus said 'you'd know when you see it'" Tav finished quietly as they looked away.

Astarion sighed and walked down the dusty hall, turning around as he took in the room. It felt familiar in a sort of unknowable way, perhaps due to the flurry of mansions he had sneaked in through 200 years of pretending to have romantic rendezvous with Cazador’s preys. The thought brought a chill down his back.

“Well, luckily infernal things reek. We’ll surely find whatever Faustus sent us to fetch quickly enough”, his ego remained as bloated and pompous as always, even without the protection against the blaring sun.

“Astarion. We’re not here for Karlach,” they confessed looking at him intently, something clearly itching to come out of their lips, their eyes bubbling with the unspoken. Tav walked further down the corridor as they spoke, “Let’s split and come back in 10 minutes to touch base. And remember:”.

“Let's do anything hilarious.” They said in unison, the humor not lost to either of them.

The white marble hall echoed around their steps as they rushed through the overgrown manor, it’s decadence hauntingly beautiful in all of its splendor.

Each room resembled the last, covered furniture littered the floors, and had it not been for a bowl of decade old decayed goo, Astarion would have guessed these halls had never been blessed with life. Tav had been gone for a while, their footsteps dissipating in the distance, leaving Astarion alone.

The sudden pitter-patter of small footsteps caught his attention, it could just be an animal, but seeing as he had seen no droppings around the complex it seemed highly unlikely. He readied a knife an

A young boy, couldn’t be a day older than 8, in a corridor looking much too clean for an abandoned mansion. The whole situation was odd, looking much too out of place, but before Astarion could ask the kid what was he doing, a pale and poked out of a doorway, stopping the kid from entering.

“Not now, my little starlight. Mum’s busy.” The voice sounded far, an echo of a past long lost to time, yet warm and inviting.

The boy looked defeated, his toy falling to the ground as he turned running towards Astarion and disappeared as his image collided with his body, revealing an empty hallway with leaves peppering the floor. The cold of the ghostly touch froze him inside out.

“There you are!” Tav reprimanded with a smile. “I thought the earth had swallowed you”. Their face soured when Astarion finally turned towards them, even paler than they thought was possible. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have.”

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member gets into a fistfight with her ex

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming up with a lot of stuff for you guys so I can make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that my friend Queens_Angles, who gave me this idea on Wattpad likes it! :)

The request: can do where the 10th member gets into a fist fight with her girlfriend ex

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The dorm room was engulfed in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle from Y/N, the 10th and youngest member of TWICE. She sat on her bed, nursing a sore jaw and a bruised ego, replaying the events of the evening in her mind.

It had all started innocently enough. TWICE's fireball had been out on a rare day off with her girlfriend, Hyejin, a girl who had no connection to the entertainment industry. They had been dating for several months, and despite the challenges of the maknae's busy schedule, their relationship had flourished.

However, the evening had taken an unexpected turn when they had bumped into Hyejin's ex-girlfriend, Jiyeon, at a local café. Jiyeon had been openly hostile, spewing venomous words and accusations at Y/N, questioning her intentions and the authenticity of her relationship with Hyejin.

Unable to tolerate the verbal abuse any longer, Y/N had snapped, and the confrontation had escalated into a physical fight. It was a momentary lapse in judgment that had left her with a swollen jaw and a heart heavy with regret.

As Y/N sat in her dorm room, nursing her wounds, her fellow TWICE sisters, Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Sana barged in, having heard about the incident. Concern etched across their faces as they took in the sight of their injured maknae.

Nayeon - Baby, what happened?

Nayeon demanded, rushing to her side.

Said girl looked up, tears welling in her eyes. 

Y/N - I... I got into a fight with Hyejin's ex, Jiyeon.

Sana's eyes widened in shock. 

Sana - A fight? Darling, you're part of TWICE! You can't just go around fighting people!

Jeongyeon stepped forward, examining her kiddo's injuries. 

Jeongyeon - We need to take care of these bruises. But first, tell us what happened.

As Y/N recounted the events that had transpired at the café, her unnies listened intently. They could see the remorse and guilt in her eyes, but they also understood that her actions had been fueled by protectiveness and a desire to defend her relationship.

Nayeon sighed and exchanged a worried glance with Jeongyeon and Sana. 

Nayeon - This is a tricky situation, sunshine. We need to figure out how to handle it. First, let's get you cleaned up.

With gentle care, Nayeon and Jeongyeon helped Y/N clean her wounds and apply ice to the swelling on her jaw. Sana couldn't help but feel a surge of anger towards Jiyeon for provoking the situation.

Sana spoke up, her voice filled with concern. 

Sana - We need to talk to JYP and our management about this. They need to know what happened and how we're planning to deal with it.

Nayeon - You're right, Sana. We should be honest with them. *nodding*

Once Y/N's injuries were tended to, they all gave her some space to recover. But Y/N knew she couldn't escape their concerned gazes and their infinite questions when they returned.

Sure enough, after a while, the door creaked open, and Jihyo, the leader of TWICE and Y/N's mama entered the room. She had a motherly aura about her, always looking out for her younger members, especially Y/N. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of her child's injuries.

Jihyo - Y/N Y/L/N. What happened?

Jihyo said sternly, her voice filled with a mix of concern and frustration. 

The younger girl looked up, her eyes filled with tears. She respected Jihyo immensely and didn't want to disappoint her. 

Y/N - I got into a fight with Hyejin's ex, Jiyeon. *pouts*

Jihyo's gaze softened as she approached her daughter, but there was still an edge to her voice.

Jihyo - A fight? Babygirl, you know better than to get into these kinds of situations.

The youngest's eyes welled up with tears. She knew she had let herself and her unnies down.

Y/N - I'm so sorry, Jihyo omma. I didn't mean for it to happen.

Jihyo sighed and sat down beside her girl, placing a gentle hand on her back. 

Jihyo - I know you didn't, my heart, but we need to be careful. Our actions not only reflect on ourselves but on the entire group. We're role models for many young fans, and we have to set a better example.

Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of Jihyo's words. She had always admired Jihyo's leadership and maturity and hated to see her disappointed in her.

Jihyo continued, her tone softening. 

Jihyo - I understand that you were trying to defend your relationship, but there are better ways to handle these situations. Violence is never the answer.

Y/N hung her head, feeling a mixture of shame and gratitude. Shame for her impulsive actions and gratitude for Jihyo's guidance and understanding.

After a moment of silence, Jihyo gently lifted her baby's chin, making her meet her eyes. 

Jihyo - But I want you to know that, above all, I'm just glad you're not seriously hurt. We can deal with the consequences, but your safety and well-being are what matter most to me.

TWICE's lovebug's eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were tears of relief. She had been so worried about disappointing her unnies and potentially damaging her career that she had forgotten how much they cared about her as a person.

Jihyo wrapped her arms around the smaller girl in a comforting hug, holding her close. 

Jihyo - You're like a daughter to me, Y/N. I can't help but worry about you. Promise me you'll think twice before getting involved in situations like this again.

Y/N nodded with a voice choked with emotion she answered. 

Y/N - I promise, mama. I'll be more careful.

Jihyo pulled back slightly, her gaze soft and affectionate. 

Jihyo - Good. Now, let's get you cleaned up properly, and then I'll stay with you for the night. We'll make sure you're okay.

As Jihyo tended to the injuries the other girls left behind after leaving the room since they knew the leader was coming, she couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for the younger member. She knew that Y/N was still learning the ropes of being an idol and dealing with the challenges that came with fame and relationships. Jihyo wanted to be there for her, just as she was for all the other members.

Once Y/N was settled comfortably in bed, Jihyo lay down beside her, wrapping her arms protectively around her. TWICE's angel snuggled into Jihyo's chest, feeling safe and loved.

Y/N - I'm really sorry, Jihyo unnie. *whispering*

Jihyo pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her girl's head. 

Jihyo - I know you are, sweetheart. Just remember, we're here for you, no matter what. And I'm always just a call away if you need someone to talk to or lean on.

As Y/N closed her eyes, a sense of warmth and comfort washed over her. She was grateful for her unnies, especially Jihyo, who had shown her the importance of not just being a member of TWICE but also being a part of a caring and protective family. Together, they would navigate the challenges that came their way, and Y/N knew she could always count on them for support and love. And as the maknae fell asleep she had a single thought in mind:

I love my dear unnies.

A/N: I’m sorry for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[duiiness]

more argenti writing

(taken specifically from an rp i was doing ages ago, this is still one of my favorite writings of argenti)

Argenti's lips tilted upwards, in a gentle smile at the man's reaction. He seemed relatively pleased by this interaction, and Argenti took that into stride. Though, the notion that his attention was unwanted wasn't too surprising ⸺ Argenti's eyes didn't miss the gun at his side. It would be hard to do so, truthfully. So, it was clear the man was versed in some degree of violence, for whatever purpose. Of course, Argenti had his suspicions of why, but he wouldn't be so crass to believe them as truth nor would he pry so carelessly into a stranger's life. While he possessed a curiosity for this man, he wished to avoid stepping too far.

"Well, all the same, I find appreciation in the recognition of my crest. I feel few truly recall its symbol, and what it once stood for." A solemn thought, Argenti supposed. After the disappearance of their Aeon, the knights found themselves at odds. Some whispered of Idrila's death ⸺ something Argenti refused to believed ⸺ and they eventually found their faction breaking apart. Some Knights were felled, a pain that ached softly in the hollow of his chest, and some began their own travels, to traverse the universe in search of something. Perhaps Idrila. Perhaps themselves. Argenti could only hope that fate, and Idrila's guiding hand, would cross their paths once more.

His eyes quietly glanced over the man's face, both to garner his reaction and to better assess his features. Something he found particularly noteworthy was the crosshairs in Boothill's eyes. He couldn't recall if he's ever witnessed someone with such markings, especially within their eyes. It was a truly captivating aspect, and a point of interest. However, he did find the placement of the rose satisfying. An apparent place, unlikely to go unnoticed. While he wasn't sure if the cowboy understood the degree of such a thing, Argenti took it as an acknowledgement of Idrila's gift. And, as usual, Argenti had barely paid any heed to the momentary shift of the lighting nor the brief gazes cast their way, when he had gifted Boothill the rose. Of course, for as quickly as it happened, it went back to the previous state.

"Perhaps, but I find the desire to express gratitude hard to ignore when faced with such kindness. Though, I do appreciate the notion of your consideration." He could distinguish the playful nature of his words, his own voice taking on a small lilt. Despite their conversation being brief, and truthfully just beginning, Argenti found himself enjoying it. Some people often kept themselves reserved, or others simply ignored Argenti's behavior. While he held no ill-will to such actions, he always felt himself longing for people to allow openness in themselves, and to allow their hearts to be admired. But he knew the complicated nature of a human, or any being for that matter, could make it far harder to accept such thing. Hence his reserved patience for many, never wishing to rush them into something.

Beauty often came as a reward for one's dedication.

"Ah, well, I suppose the depth of Idrila's gift may have no ending. But, the sharing of roses isn't reserved solely for those who express compliments towards my visage. I find that most who crossed my path leave with one, an expression of my admiration for their being. Beauty comes in many forms, and I find it partially my duty to make sure it can be recognized, even in the most unassuming places." Though, Boothill wasn't incorrect by any means. Argenti often found himself crossing paths with strangers and their kind words, ones that he would repay with his own kindness, and the roses. Idrila gift, something Argenti delighted in sharing, regardless of whether or not someone shared a compliment towards him. He had no urge to try and stoke his own ego by searching for approval, but he could admit, there was a sense of bashful pride when he came across them. Though, he supposed most people took enjoyment in someone noticing something, and paying praise to it ⸺ such as Argenti did, often.

Although, he found that it was often reserved for the mundane rather than something of an ostentatious nature. He found beauty in the simplest of things, something that he felt was lost on most people.

"Well, I'll admit, I found myself particularly moved when I took notice of you, my silver cowboy. Our paths only briefly crossed, only a bit from this very establishment, and I wished to take more care in learning of you." His head turned for a moment, as the bartender returned, and Argenti offered his thanks as he took the glass into hand. The seemingly underlying question within his statement didn't go unnoticed either, emerald eyes casting over Boothill's shifting form before crossing to his own drink. "I must appear out of place with my own beverage, but I'd hate for an incident to occur, and I find myself unable to give my aid. It is the duty of a Knight to offer his hand, however and wherever he can."

The nature of bars wasn't lost on Argenti, people often attending them to escape the ugliness of the outer world. It left a twinge in his chest, to imagine people so disheartened that they had to run away from these things. A life that they could not easily escape. He knew that grief, very well. The memories of his home planet, and the war that ravaged it. The way his breath always held, waiting for the next strike, even as he hid underground. And, in the midst of that anguish, there was a glimmer of hope. Of beauty, in that dark place. Something that he desired to bring to people, such as that moment of clarification brought to him.

A softer, serene look crossed Argenti's face. "Perhaps. But the nature of beauty far exceeds the physical. Of course, it can appear in a visage, but that is not the only form it possesses. An extension of Idrila's power is to find beauty everywhere, even when most people cannot see it. And I suppose that is what drew me here. Idrila's guidance lays a out a path, one that I follow. And it guided me here, to you." Argenti allowed his eyes to shut for a moment, the shifting sounds of the bar filling his ears. The sound of clinking glass, chattering voices, shuffling chairs and the sighs of a living breath. There was a beauty in such things, an admiration for the nature of simply existing. His eyes flickered open, before carefully taking a sip of his drink. "If you don't mind my own inquiry, I'd like to ask if you had any particular reason for being here yourself."

[crystalsenergy]

Echoes of Separateness:

Ego, bullying, and the illogical path of the wounded ego #3

(I demand that the person be here, but in reality, I didn't even want that…)

Parts 1 and 2 previously posted.

Notice that all extremely controlling people are, deep down, extremely insecure.

All insensitive people, deep down, have a tremendous grudge against sensitivity.

Paty, and how much of this can be brought to light now, by the person themselves, in order for this to be transmuted, cared for?

Darlings, it only depends on them and their will…

It is important to practice this perspective because it gradually frees us from 2 things:

feeling that you are wrong for following the opposite path, it takes you out of this process of wanting the approval of the other who so much wants to lead you to the path of control, the fear of being judged, the path of the wounded ego…

it also helps you work on anger because you start to see that this person is so, so deeply hurt.

And an important observation! To the empaths and sweethearts of my heart, don't fall into the trap of wanting to save such people. No one saves anyone, right?

We give each other a hand… we help each other, but we don't save.

The process of overcoming any negative issue must be personal, the help, the support, the comfort, should exist when we really feel comfortable with it and when the other ACCEPTS!

In summary: when they really want to change.

Unfortunately, many people are trapped in the illusion of momentary pleasure. Wounded ego, very hurt for not feeling capable, secure. But every day the person seeks their group that makes this feeling of fear of judgment, fear of exclusion disappear for a few moments… but it's not something secure and constructive. It was built on unsound and unhealthy foundations. It is temporary and superficial.

It is never too late to seek care for these issues.

The opportunities have never been greater than they are today, through this text that brings you to a state of reflection and/or discomfort; through various supports that exist out there…

Meditations for greater inner contact, including very spiritual channeled meditations, therapeutic techniques, holistic therapies, high-vibration musical frequencies available, and sooo much knowledge being channeled and brought to light.

From schools to politics, From family gatherings to religious meetings, From friendships to the workplace…. In all these places, we always play a role.

What has been your role? To exclude, to include, or to "sit on the fence"? haha.

This "sitting on the fence" can be one of the most dangerous paths, depending on the case.

Inserting oneself into a process of unconsciousness and "ignorance is bliss," when in reality, you know well what is going on around you, you just don't want to lose the approval of others, is, in the end, a fear of judgment too.

I BELIEVE in a world with more inclusion and social justice, starting with us!

Because every politician (the ones who influence us the most, on national and global levels) was once a student, "simply a citizen," and the distorted biases, the non-inclusive ideas that many who hold political positions share, we also share.

They are not the only ones who need to evolve haha.

Internal work reverberates externally!

Don't rush, but if possible, start yours today.

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

Nine

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Fire Meet Gasoline (112504 words) by galacticwildfire Chapters: 12/? archiveofourown.org

Tags for excerpt: flirting and egos

A/N: Not getting any interaction here so I'll share the ao3 links now with excerpts

~

~

"You know, as much as I hate to admit it, your plan worked."

I look over at him, waiting patiently with a comforting smile and find myself accepting the offer. 

"What can I say?" I tease, glad for the distraction. "Sometimes improvisation is better than a plan."

"I can't argue with that," he says and raises his arms slightly as he waits for me to return the peace offering, and I lean back beside him on the counter, my hand resting beside his. 

"And... your piloting did help too," I admit, now the danger's passed having to accept that he is actually a pretty damn good pilot. "I mean, we still do have to settle the fact I'm the better one but-"

He laughs and says "Oh no, I've got more sense about me now to know better than to take you up on a challenge."

I can't help the close-lipped smile I wear. "I was wondering if you had any beneath that pretty head of hair." 

His smile changes to something a little more teasing as he leans down towards me. "So you think I'm pretty?"

Finding myself having unknowingly orchestrated and been caught in my own trap I try to take control of the situation. 

"I know you think I am," I counter, tilting my head as I look up at him, meeting his eye somehow takes more guts than facing a dozen tie fighters. "You might think I'm cynical but I know you still like my face."

And unfortunately I still like his. 

"You definitely aren't wrong there but see, I liked you before I saw your face," he says and I can't help myself from gravitating towards him despite the pounding warning in my chest and he grows slightly nervous as he takes me in. "But I mean there's plenty to like there as well, I-" I can't but smile at his stammering, a momentary lapse in his self confident charms, but he recovers quickly. "You're beautiful, but that's not what made me like you."

Warmth quickly rushes to me cheeks and I'm grateful for the dim light. "And now?"

He leans in closer and somehow despite everything he doesn't look at me any differently to how he did in the hangar. 

"Now? I think you're pretty damn incredible," he says and I'm left stunned, swearing for just a moment my heart's stopped. "I think you like to be all brooding and cynical to be taken seriously but the moment you're in the pilot's seat all that bullshit fades away."

He gives me enough room to rebuff him. "Really?"

"Because I've seen it," he says as if I'm some great conspiracy, but to him and the rest of the galaxy I might just be. "And this cynical crap only came on the moment you wanted to be taken seriously."

"Careful now," I warn but he takes little notice since that warning doesn't quite reach the tone I should be conveying, especially not when I'm fighting to keep a smile from my face.

"Am I wrong?" he asks, the hand he had resting on the counter now brushing along the side of mine and I don't think a mere touch has ever left me breathless. 

"You might be braver than I thought," I manage to breathe. "Or just reckless."

He tilts his head towards me. "Is there a difference?" 

My lips curl into a knowing smirk that matches his, filled with mischief and a need I can't quite name but suddenly all I can do is wonder how the stubble on his face would feel if his lips brushed against mine. 

And something tells me he's wondering the same. 

"No, there's not."

[thetruekyle]

She won't though. . . Because she is deliberately dragging out what was once beautiful, authentic, & true, and wringing all she can from the genuine love affair that her and I shared ever so briefly.. even though it was only for a fort night... She refuses to inflate my ego (respectfully) and also just wants to forget it ever happened because it's just too much to process. . . "If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary. What we thought was for all time, was momentary." . . She don't [really] like a [gold rush], remember? And she let go.. so I did too. And now it's just going to stay buried, the way SHE wants it to be. Because who am I to take credit. . . Who am I to be GIVEN credit. She said Joe's name at the podium, but the other man never gets glorified in the public eye. Still... after everything her and I went through 'together', after ALL her and I worked through and talked about- You're welcome for that nifty little AOTY that she drew from it all. . . Folklore was a gem. Evermore was that gem being locked away and out of sight in a vault so as to NOT detract from. Her own spotlight. That being said, while I have come to 'understand' why she has done what she did.. doesn't mean I agree with how she unilaterally fled and dropped all that could've been like a sinner's stone. It's 2024 after all- what can a man do to assert his dominance over a woman of her caliber. . . Without an equally wilfully degree of submission? 🤷‍♂️

"I don't miss what we had. . . but could someone give a message to- little old [she]?"

evermore waiting for her turn to get up on stage

[princessmisery666]

Not Okay - Hangman Drabble

Summary: He says he’s okay, but you know better. 

Warnings: angst.

W/C: 800

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

A/N: @justagirlinafandomworld sent me the above gif for a request and my mind went angsty instead of the obvious way, sorry. 🥺

Betas: @writercole / @cockslutpadalecki / mistakes are all mine.

Graphics: made by me on canva. Dividers: @writercole

Master Lists: All The Fandoms // Top Gun: Maverick

Not Okay

It’s been hours. He should be back by now. He wasn’t at the Hard Deck and you know medical released him hours ago. Now it’s only his guilt keeping him away.

You wait in the common room. He’ll come by, he never goes to sleep without a bottle of water so you know he’ll grab one before heading to his room. 

You sit in silence; it’s been a long day and the silence helps process exactly what happened. It was bad, thankfully not as bad as it could have been, but Coyote will be out of commission for a while.

The door opens and you turn to see Jake frozen in the frame. 

The greeting is a reflex and he delivers it with little emotion and no eye contact. “Hey,” he says, heading straight for the fridge. 

“Hey,” you reply.

He takes a bottle from the fridge, flips it nonchalantly in his hand, it’s for appearances, he doesn’t feel the cockiness he’s pretending to have as he makes his way to the door. 

“Jake,” you coax. 

“I’m fine,” he grits, marching out and slamming the door behind him. 

Jake sheds his uniform, throwing it in his hamper, hating the antiseptic smell of hospitals that seems to linger.

Javy is spending the night surrounded by that smell, because of him. Because Jake couldn’t rein in his ego, his best friend - maybe his only friend in Fightertown - is in the hospital. 

He grabs his towel, ties it around his waist and leaves his room.

You're leaning against the wall, in the direction he needs to go to the shower room, waiting for him. You’re worried about him. It’s written all over your face and he hates the pity in your eyes. He’s not in the mood for this. 

“I told you I’m fine,” he sighs as he passes by. 

“I heard you,” you say. “But I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t need you to believe me. Go to bed, Y/N.”

The water is hot and he stands under the spray for a long time. Javy will be okay, he is okay, but it’s going to take a while for Jake to be.

He hears the click of the bathroom door and he waits to hear another rush of water start up but there’s nothing.

He knows it’s you. He knows you're not going to let it go, won’t leave him be until he’s given you something.

He grabs the soap and steps around the curtain as he lathers it up over his chest. “Wanna join me?” he asks, grinning.

Your eyes drag the length of his body and you do nothing to hide the fact you're checking him out. “I will if it’ll get you to talk to me.” 

“Since when do we talk?” he sneers. “We fuck and we fight, but we’ve never talked.”

“You’ve never had to eject before either,” you counter, not taking the bait. 

He rolls his eyes and steps back behind the curtain. He washes off the lavender suds, squirting shampoo into his hand he realizes he didn’t hear the door open again. 

“Are you still here?” 

“Got nowhere else I need to be.”

He hates how calm you sound. You're unfazed by his attitude; you're not going to be easily dissuaded. He could deliver a scathing remark, something unforgivably brutal. But he doesn’t have it in him, not today, and certainly not for you.

It’s no secret the two of you have an arrangement. On the good days you worship one another, a balance of give and take, on the bad days you let Jake take what he needs. In the air there’s a power struggle between the two of you, but behind closed doors, you surrender the control to Jake.

There’s a momentary draft on his back, looking over his shoulder he watches you close the curtain again.

“What’re you doing?” 

You're fully clothed, so he knows you haven’t changed your mind. You press yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and rest your head between his shoulders.

“I’m okay,” he assures.

“I know,” you agree, not quite convincingly. You place a kiss between his shoulder blades, and breathe your next words into his wet skin. “But it’s okay if you’re not.”

“I’m okay,” he repeats. Maybe if he says it enough he’ll start believing it.

You don't say anything and you don't move for so long the water drops a few degrees.

“I never should have… I didn’t mean to…I should have.” 

This is why he didn’t want to talk. He’s never at a loss for words, but now he doesn’t know what to say. Can’t verbalize any of it. He can admit he was wrong, but that’s not enough. He continues, “Coyote’s gonna be grounded for a while, ‘cause of me.” 

“He’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive myself.”

His voice cracks and you squeeze so tight it’s almost painful. Oddly, it feels good. Like the safety harness of a parachute, it’s safe. Familiar.

He only realizes it now, in this very moment while your tight grip digs into his hips, Javy isn’t his only friend. Somewhere along the road of worship and struggle for power, somehow, you became friends too.

Master Lists: All The Fandoms // Top Gun: Maverick

Tag List Info

[scumbag-the-hedgehog]

That was IT? No sobbing, no cowering, just a momentary look of fear before she regains her composure? The chaos energy knife disappears from the infuriated king's hand. Bursts of anarchy energy spark off from Junior as he rages, exploding on impact with the earth and lingering crystal constructs, causing dirt and shards to fly everywhere in a whirlwind of acid-green incandescence.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT! AFTER EVERYTHING! THE STUPID FUCKING MULTIVERSE HAS TO GO AHEAD AND DO THIS FUCKING CRAP TO ME OVER, AND OVER, AND OVER AGAIN!"

He just wanted to make her feel the way he'd felt. Vulnerable. Weak. Broken. And he couldn't. Nothing was getting through to her even with all this power at his fingertips. Every failure, every delay, just hammered home to point that he already knew, that he wanted to suppress from conscious acknowledgement more than anything else.

She was stronger than him. Even when he was supposed to be invulnerable, she'd still found a way to hurt him, stabbing that ever-fragile ego of his. The fact that he technically had the upper-hand in this bout, that he knew what could get through her defenses, ate at him all the more.

"...whatever." For a moment as he floats there, he feels completely resigned. The purple of his quills suddenly turns a pale pink for a fraction of a second before turning back to normal as he steels his nerves. An exhalation as that brief moment of clarity had allowed him the time to think of what to do next.

What would normally be suicidal was now viable in super form, and he still clung onto that one desire to try and reciprocate the slightest amount of that fucking pain, to try and demand the slightest sliver of respect and fear that he craved so desperately. There's another rush forward, ready to burst through any barriers set up, but with the intention of a grapple, hand reaching out to take hold of whatever he could so that he could make sure she wouldn't just outrun the coming explosion.

"...Chaos Blast."

"Eh, can't blame a gal for tryin'."

She can at least respect he saw through the veiled attempts at getting him to power down and make this one-sided fight curve the other way around again. Ah well, back to just hoping to stall the other out after all. It shouldn't be too hard, she thought, considering one of them still had the clear edge when it came to actual experience and skill.

"Aw, thanks, I do my best t' be the worst." it was said while he charged, already beginning to slide boot forward to erect a wall of crystal for the buffer she needed to dodge the supposedly telegraphed attack. Only for him to blip right out of her gaze just in time for her to register what the proper attack was going to be; too deep in her initial action to dodge it proper.

She did her best, anyways, as the wall of crystal began forming; planting her boot into it to kick off as she twisted to the side. There's a sound similar to crack stone and the horrible whine of metal being torn through. A hiss of pain, rolling to the side as the deep gash through metallic quills and crumbling crystal told he had managed to actually get through her defenses.

"...Oh, that actually hurt." she mused, taking a moment to dig her own clawed digit in as if to confirm the gash was real. Looking, perhaps for a moment, scared.

"Good."

She pulled claw out, slapping the blood aside as the edges of wound began to hiss and inch their way closed. A slow, but visible process. Was it a bad thing Junior could actually hurt her? Sure, absolutely, but it meant that they were now both aware he couldn't otherwise. Having to do this sort of stunt to actually draw blood.

"That means I can take th' kiddy gloves off, don't it?"

[chemicalalice]

Request: Sex with Ray Merrimen after a successful heist.

Hope this fits the bill!

Title: Adrenaline

Summary: Post-heist energy needs to be worked off...somehow.

Pairing: Ray Merrimen x female!Reader

Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing, Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only!

Word count: 1385

Ray was, unsurprisingly, something of an adrenaline junky. It was why he joined the Marines. And it was why he decided that robbing banks was a good post-military career. It was more than just the physical rush, it was that they both involved his brain. Planning and perfect execution was what got his adrenaline truly pumping.

And it was pumping now. A near perfect heist, all his meticulous planning unfolding like a perfectly choreographed dance. In, out, and home free. Although his hands were as steady as ever, he felt almost shaky with the left over adrenaline.

Ray looked across the warehouse to where the others were unloading their recent prize. Stacks and stacks of neatly banded $100 bills being piled on a table, waiting to be counted. You were slightly off to the side, tac vest hanging open as you tipped your head back and greedily sucked down a bottle of water. Even from this distance he could see the slight sheen of sweat across your upper chest that you worked up on the job. He could feel himself start to harden at the sight of the tops of your breasts and the long curve of your neckl on display.

He pulled on the straps of his own vest and tugged the thing over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. There really only was one outlet for all this post-job energy.

"Everyone get out," he growled as he stalked over to where you stood.

You gave him a coy smile as you set your water bottle on the table and moved to leave with the others, who wisely were keeping their mouths shut about his abrupt dismissal as they began to shuffle out.

Ray grabbed your wrist, squeezing lightly, as you were passing him. "Not you."

You laughed softly as you pulled your arm from his grip and leaned back against the table, your legs slightly apart; welcoming. He crowded into the space you left immediately, lifting you up to sit on the edge of the table, one hand fisting in your hair to tilt your face up to meet his as his lips crashed down against yours, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, letting you feel how hard he was; how much he wanted you.

Usually you like to savor him; take it slow. But this time you didn't hesitate in pulling his shirt off, breaking the kiss only momentary to get the fabric over his head before his lips were on you again, your hands greedily running over his chest and abs and down to the waist band of his pants, tugging urgently, your own eagerness sudden but not unexpected. He was the single most perfect specimen you had ever laid your eyes on and you didn't think you would ever get tired of looking at him. Not that you would ever tell him that. His ego was big enough; it didn't need your help. But you think he knew anyways; you could feel his smirk as he pushed your hand away.

He, on the other hand, didn't bother with your shirt, knowing this wasn't going to be long, a fact he confirmed when he wrenched your pants to your ankles and dipped his hand down to curl two fingers inside of you. You were soaking.

"Does robbing banks get you wet baby?" He murmured against your lips, enjoying the soft gasp of pleasure you gave at his ministrations.

"You get me wet Ray." You couldn't help that it came out as practically a moan. And it was true. You don't think that there was much that he did that didn't get you wet; that didn't cause you to crave him with an almost startling ferocity.

Ray continued to fuck into you with his fingers as his other hand came up to your throat, forcing you back into your elbows, a few of the neat stacks of bills toppling over. Neither of your paid any attention to it.

Ray knew he wasn't going to last long once he got inside of you, the visceral thrill of a job well done already having him keyed up. The sight of you moaning on the table with his fingers buried in your cunt, the sound your wetness made as he moved them; that certainly didn't help. He could take the time to take you apart properly, to have you begging him to stop while begging him for even more, later. Right now he just needed to be in you.

He made sure he got you off before removing his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your taste off of them before finally unfastening his own pants and pulling himself out, using that same hand to guide himself to your dripping entrance, his eyes locked on your the entire time.

He was rough as he filled you will a single thrust. You let out whimper as he bent over you, his arm coming down to brace himself on the table behind you, knocking even more stacks of money over and tumbling to the floor as his other arm again curled around your waist to hold you in place as he pounded into you.

He continued to hold your gaze for the first few thrusts before burying his face in the crook of your neck with a grunt. "Jesus, the things you do to me," he rasped and your toes curled in pleasure at the sensation of his facial hair rubbing at your throat and collarbone almost in the same rhythm as his dick was moving in and out of you.

"God, Ray, I'm gonna cum," you moaned and you would have fallen back against the table completely if it wasn't for his arm around you, anchoring your body to his and he wound you higher and higher.

"Me too," he grunted, and the sound of him so him so wrecked by just this had you losing it. You bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming it felt so damn good, and you could feel him following not long after, the warmth of his spend filling your core accompanied by his low moan.

"Fuck I love you," he panted into your ear as he came down from it, all that pent up energy from the job finally finding its release inside of you. You smiled and pulled him to you for another kiss, this one more affectionate and considerable lazier then the one you shared earlier.

But you didn't let it last long before you were pushing at his shoulder to get him off of you. "Come on big guy, we gotta wrap this up so the guys can get back in here." At one point you would have died from humiliation knowing the rest of the crew was just on the other side of the garage door, knowing Ray was in here fucking your brains out. But now? Now you were used to Ray's post-job.... attentions, and his ability to wait until you were somewhere private. And you think they were too. Ray pulled away then and you gave a small whimper at the feeling if him leaving you before you immediately clenched up, suddenly mindful of the fact that you were basically laying on a pile of money that still had to be counted by said guys who were waiting for you to finish your little tete-a-tete . Now THAT, that had you a little embarrassed. Ray smirked at you, knowing exactly what you were thinking. Fucking pervert. You slid off the table and grabbed his discarded tank top, using it to clean yourself up before throwing at back at him. He caught it will a chuckle, not caring at all, and you couldn't stop your answering grin as you pulled your pants back up.

You were in the process of picking the the spilled money off the ground when the guys returned. Enson took one look at you and then turned to Ray, pointing at the money. "I swear to fucking God, man, if I find a single one of those bills with even a drop of jizz on it I'm out! You nasty mother fuckers can count that shit yourselves!"

Ray just smirked.

________________________________

Tag List:

@buckybarneshairpullingkink

[delicatelie89]

For @formerdetective and @lenalake who asked for my not so g rated thoughts on the gifs in this and this twitter post (honestly 2x22 Out of Mind has some serious sexy happening). Thanks to @justplainmels for providing said sexy gifs. 🔥🔥🔥

His arm wrapped tight around her middle, a possessive hand cupped hard over her mouth, his hips bumping into her ass as he drags her to a stand-still; combined it's enough to pull her senses out of the memory-recall and accompanying headache it brings.

The firm grip he has on her eases off a little, his hand slipping slowly away, but he's solid behind her and her body is now hyperaware of every single place they meet. She can't help the rush of warm arousal that washes over her at the contact. It spreads out, ignorant of the moment--perhaps even heightened by it--and settles low, pooling a liquid heat in her belly and between her thighs.

It's the adrenaline, she thinks. Blame the adrenaline.

Then she hears it. The uneven breath close behind her ear. It barely lasts more than a few short seconds before he's in control again, though his momentary lapse gives him away regardless, and she's far too keyed up not to miss the growing pressure that's nestled at the curve of her ass, interested.

Her body reacts, whether she wants it to or not, and all those already too-interested parts of her own flare up even more, screaming at her. Then fingers, his fingers, curl tight into the white fabric by her hip, clutching hard, the tips almost-but-not-quite bruising her soft skin beneath; if the action is wanton or warning she can't really tell. Maybe it's both. Either way her usually repressed id is loud, pleading--begging--for him to grip her just that little bit harder.

It's problematic in more ways than one. And equally as inappropriate. That fact that she's so reactive to it all--the possessive, controlling parts--that it's him--that she wants more--makes it just that much worse. Or exciting.

She swears if he pulls her back against him now, with one hand gripping her hip and the other a breath away from collaring her throat, there's no way she'll be able to stop herself from rolling her hips back for him.

She holds her breath, stilling herself, waiting for her super-ego to rein her in, to fight back against her raging id inside that's usually locked up tight. Behind her she can feel him tensing, warring to do the same. For a moment she's grateful they can't make eye contact like this. Because they'd be screwed if they looked each other in the eyes right now, she's sure of it.

When he mutters a whispered curse under his breath every part of her clenches in anticipation, only releasing once she feels him start to push her away.

Control. He has it.

She has to quickly stifle a little dejected noise that starts in the back of her throat, cutting it off, she hopes, before he notices (she'll lie to herself if that's what it takes to re-group). This isn't the time or place for any of this and she hates the part of herself that has the nerve to be disappointed.

They slide away together, dragging themselves back into the present. But not, it seems, without him daring to make eye contact with her first.

A dangerous move.

The heated glance he delivers is swift, yet it's more than enough to push directly at those buttons they now know they have. With just a look, with just his eyes, he carefully inches them past a line they aren't supposed to cross and then back again.

Control.

He has it, and they both know she wants to bend to it.

[challahbeloved]

“… Every day we find a new sky and a new earth with which we are trusted like a perfect toy. We are given the salty river of our blood winding through us, to remember the sea and our kindred under the waves, the hot pulsing that knocks in our throats to consider our cousins in the grass and the trees, all bright scattered rivulets of life.

We are given the wind within us, the breath to shape into words that steal time, that touch like hands and pierce like bullets, that waken truth and deceit, sorrow and pity and joy, that waste precious air in complaints, in lies, in floating traps for power on the dirty air. Yet holy breath still stretches our lungs to sing.

We are given the body, that momentary kibbutz of elements that have belonged to frog and polar bear, corn and oak tree, volcano and glacier. We are lent for a time these minerals in water and a morning every day, a morning to wake up, rejoice and praise life in our spines, our throats, our knees, our genitals, our brains, our tongues.

We are given fire to see against the dark, to think, to read, to study how we are to live, to bank in ourselves against defeat and despair that cool and muddy our resolves, that make us forget what we saw we must do. We are given passion to rise like the sun in our minds with the new day and burn the debris of habit and greed and fear.

We stand in the midst of the burning world primed to burn with compassionate love and justice, to turn inward and find holy fire at the core, to turn outward and see the world that is all of one flesh with us, see under the trash, through the smog, the furry bee in the apple blossom, the trout leaping, the candles our ancestors lit for us.

Fill us as the tide rustles into the reeds in the marsh. Fill us as the rushing water overflows the pitcher. Fill us as light fills a room with its dancing. Let the little quarrels of the bones and the snarling of the lesser appetites and the whining of the ego cease. Let silence still is so you may show us your shining and we can out of that stillness rise and praise.”

— Marge Piercy, excerpt from Nishmat, a poem in the book, The Art of Blessing the Day. Page 129-131.

[dvlfyo]

throw you for a rush

𝗳𝘁. oikawa, sugawara, atsumu

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲/𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀. haikyuu boys overhearing u talk abt ur crush on them (and then they proceed to ask u out), fluff, humor, maybe ooc atsumu (? i'm not sure), kinda shitty ending on suga's part sorry, gn!reader; 0.9k words

𝗮/𝗻. i love this trope so muchjsjajdks it's so fuckinf adorable i'm going insane jajsks i hope u guys like this! also, as always, it's not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes you come across reading this </3

oikawa ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎

"i just don't know what do, iwa-chan!"

"well, here's a fun idea: you could just, you know, tell him."

"it's not that easy, you know that! he's always got girls swarming him,"

i'm so sorry he overheard you talking about him because he's such a smug ass bitch 😕😕 his ego INFLATES once he discovers you like him too nd he starts to hang out around you more than usual

"they like me too, iwa-chan!" oikawa beams, to which iwaizumi replied to with a lighthearted chuckle along with a slight shrug as he says, "yeah, 'kawa, the both of you are too obvious about it."

literally starts flirting with you every single chance he gets, it's honestly pretty concerning—which is why you confronted him about this ... sudden change of attitude, you could say

"what's gotten into you, oikawa? did someone put a potion in your drink or something?" you'd joke in response to one of his cheesy attempts at delivering pick up lines, holding onto your books tightly as oikawa walked you back to your classroom.

he shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "dunno, you're cute. couldn't help myself,"

oikawa's comment was unexpected, to say the least, and even though he'd tried out tons of stupid pick up lines on you already in hopes of making you laugh, this was the only one that truly sent butterflies to your stomach.

a moment of silence fills the air until you decide to break it with a soft "...you think i'm cute?"

"yeah, i just said that."

"then why haven't you asked me out yet?"

oikawa defensively throws his hands in the air dramatically, "hey, in my defense, i was going to, at the right time! i was just waiting for it,"

"i'm pretty sure this is the right time."

"okay, okay!" he laughs, "i, oikawa tooru, am officially asking you out on a date. accept this invitation or you will be abducted by aliens."

"alright, dork."

sugawara ₍ᵔ·͈༝·͈ᵔ₎

"i trust you not to tell him, okay, shoyo? it'll be our secret for now,"

"your secret's safe with me, i promise!"

it's probably luckier that he overheard it nd learned about this coming from you (technically), because hinata would've probably accidentally spilled your secret to him eventually, it was inevitable

"hey, (y/n). could you clarify something for me?" sugawara asked you, approaching your table in the classroom, with the usual charm he had.

you look up from the paper you'd been working on and send a soft smile towards sugawara, "yeah? what is it?"

"do you like me?"

multiple scenarios ran through your mind as you attempted to figure out how sugawara could've made a statement like this. were you being too obvious? did hinata perhaps tell him?

sugawara notices your momentary pause, so he decides to explain why he's suddenly asking such a bold question out of nowhere. "i overheard you and hinata talking about me, so i figured that maybe, you had feelings for me,"

the embarrassment takes over you and heat rises up to your cheeks before you can utter even a single word as you avoid eye contact with the boy in front of you.

"oh, uhm," you clear your throat, "yeah."

"the feeling's mutual, (y/n). you don't have to be embarrassed about it. if you're free, i'd love to have dinner with you."

a wave of relief washes over you once sugawara's words started to properly sink in, and you start to feel that small, distinctive sense of pride knowing that sugawara cares about you in the exact same way that you care about him.

"of course, suga."

atsumu

"i can't believe i'm telling you about this, of all people, rin."

"firstly, i'm your best friend. secondly, you should be thankful i'm not telling atsumu about your weird obsession with him."

"it's not an obsession!"

he's called you 'pretty' numerous times before this, but this just makes him go completely fucking feral and he'd even brag about it to osamu for hours on end like the annoying (affectionate) twin he is </3

"they like me, 'samu! they said it themselves!" atsumu announced in excitement for what seemed like the thousandth time, earning a tired sigh from his twin, who had to listen to all of his ramblings throughout dinner.

osamu stood up from his seat, grabbing an apple from the dinner table. "yeah, i know, 'tsumu. that's all ya've been talkin' 'bout since we got home."

"it's all i can think 'bout," the blonde admits.

"well then ask 'em out, genius."

and the next day, he does! well, kind of - he leaves a sticky note on your locker telling you to meet him at the gym right after practice, around 5:30pm (he's so cliché, somebody stop him)

"hey there, pretty!" atsumu greeted you with an enthusiastic wave, even though he seemed like he was tired (and awfully sweaty - what a way to ask someone out) from practice. "i overhead ya talkin' 'bout me to rin over there, real flatterin', those things ya said 'bout me," he trailed off, but immediately got back to the point once he noticed he started going off topic.

"anyways, i just wanted to ask ya if ya were up for dinner? not now, but on saturday, if yer free,"

you chuckle, trying your best to keep your composure, barely able to hide your excitement. "yeah, i'd love to, 'tsumu."

"i'll pick ya up at seven, then,"