#I don't feel well right now so I SUPER don't have the patience to do a floral pattern

[enkvyu]

8:12am — gojo satoru ;

your sneeze cuts off your sentence and you sigh, apologising into the phone. “sorry, i really don’t think i can carry out the mission.”

you can imagine yaga rubbing his temples on the other side of the line. “just worry about getting better. we can always have someone else fill your absence.”

“thanks, yaga. i’m really sorry for this.”

“don’t worry about it. take care.”

you end the call and sniffle, shoving your hand and phone deep into your pockets to try and conserve heat. the sniffle does little to clear your nose so you do it again, inhaling harder. by the end of it, your airways are no clearer than before.

a doorbell interrupts your suffering and you need to clamp your mouth shut to stop from groaning. dragging your feet behind you, you painfully walk over to your door. when you peer through the peephole, you’re met with a bright blue eyeball peeking through lifted black fabric.

“what the fuck.” you pull open the door. “gojo?”

your colleague stands on the other side, adorned in his typical work uniform with a white bag of something hanging off his arm. “you took so long to open the door i thought you might have died!”

“don’t sound too upset.” you roll your eyes.

gojo pauses and leans in, causing you to take a step back. his face falls into something you’ll call the equivalent to serious considering that you were talking about gojo, and he tilts his head to study you further. “is that a new makeup look? can’t say it flatters your features.”

you growl and it sounds sickly. “i’m not! i’m—” you shake your head as a migraine threatens your sanity. “doesn’t matter, what are you here for?”

“we work together! do i need a reason to come over and hang out?”

“at eight in the morning? yeah, you kind of do.”

“it almost sounds like you don’t want me here.”

“what gave it away?” you say, drily. of course, either gojo doesn’t get the nuance behind your words or he finds pleasure in testing you because he keeps bothering you with his presence.

“my feelings are hurt.” he sulks.

"i don't give a fuck about your feelings."

gojo's eyebrows shoot up. "wow, are you mad at me?"

you shake your head, sighing. “no, i'm not."

"right? after all, i haven't even done anything."

when he doesn't elaborate and the conversation dies, you ask, "was that everything?"

“why do you want me gone so fast? are you hiding something in there?”

you open your mouth to retort when a pulsing pain in your head cuts you off; the migraine was here. you groan, rubbing your temple as gojo’s voice zones in and out. “listen gojo, i am way too sick to banter with you right now. if it’s nothing important, can you talk to me another day?”

“you’re sick? how bad?”

you try to give him patience. “bad.”

gojo hums thoughtfully. “well it’s lucky for you that i’m super great at taking care of sick people.”

you stare at him. “you? really?”

“yeah! i’m incredible at it.”

you level with him a stare before slowly closing the door, intending to shut him out. his foot comes in a blur, holding it in place and you huff.

“you don’t believe me?” he says, looking the part of a wounded animal.

“if i say i do, will you leave me alone?”

gojo tuts, shaking his head. “this won’t do, we can’t have you believe in a false truth. i’m crazy good at taking care of people, i’ll prove it to you now!”

“no, that’s okay gojo, i don’t need your help— and you’re already inside. great.” the door closes behind you with a soft click as you stumble to your living room. “just stay out of the way, okay? and for god’s sake, keep quiet.”

"it'll be like i'm not even here. i promise."

"i don't believe in your promises." you grumble, stomping over to the bathroom. you notice, notice very clearly in fact, that the tall white-haired man follows after you. you stop at the entrance, looking back at him. "are you seriously following me to the bathroom?”

"i was going to stand guard outside!"

"i don't need you to. all i need is for you to leave." you hiss, entering the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. when you come out, he's still standing there, guarding.

you scrunch your nose up at him but leave anyway. he wasn't worth it, you remind yourself.

you make it to your next destination safely, thanks to your new and improved guard dog. checking out the fridge in your kitchen, you realise there was nothing to pop in the microwave and eat whilst wallowing in self-pity.

you do the next best thing and place a pot over your gas stove. bending over, you turn the small knob and watch as the blue flame arises. you let go of the knob, and the flame dies.

this was not something you needed right now but the emptiness of your stomach is all too prominent. so you try again, bending over and rotating the knob over the small fire symbol and watching as the stove flares up. carefully, you release the knob. the flame dies again.

“you okay?”

you grit your teeth into a smile. “yes, gojo. i think i might be better if you could stop looking over my shoulder.”

“the stove does not like you.” he ignores, side stepping to try himself. and because he’s so irritatingly perfect in every way, the blue flame rises and stays when he lets go.

gojo turns to you with a bright smile.

you sniffle and nod. “thank you.”

“what are you making?”

rummaging through your pantry, you remove a packet of instant noodles. the bright red icon on the packaging causes gojo to raise his eyebrow.

“super spicy?”

“i can’t feel anything in my nose right now. i’m thinking of flushing it out with something else.” you go to fill the pot with water but he stops you. “what?”

“you’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating something like that.”

“do you have a better idea?” you ask. “this is all i have in the house right now.”

gojo grins. he lets the white bag he was still holding onto slip down from his arm to his hand and he opens the two handles with enthusiasm. because it was so contagious, you can’t help but feel excited, peering into the bag.

you blanch. “is that medicine, creamed corn and one single egg?”

“yes!”

“that isn’t a meal either, gojo.” you think again, flickering your gaze up to his eyes. “but that’s sweet, thank you. i’ll take the pills after.”

you start to move around but he stops you with his arm. “didn’t i say i was here to take care of you? i’ve got this, just go over and relax on the couch.”

“the last thing i’ll be doing is relaxing if you’re in the kitchen.” your migraine disagrees so you eventually nod, shuffling away. casting one last glance, you point at him. “don’t start a fire.”

he gives you a cheerful wave and you stumble to your couch. you fall into its cushions and exhale, deeply.

time passes in a blur as your illness takes a hold of you, digging its finger into your brain and shaking it, displacing your cerebral spinal fluid. with your face deep within a pillow, you almost miss the scent of smoke.

almost.

you spring yourself up on your arms and dart back into the kitchen, almost running into a wall. coughing, you fan away a puff of smoke as you enter, finding the culprit wishing a tune and stirring something in a pot.

"gojo?" you choke.

gojo spins around and you find that he'd somehow pulled out the "kiss the chef" pink apron shoko gifted you on your birthday which you had immediately hid. it fits him terribly, straining to cover his torso. "you're up! why are you up?"

you cough again, stepping closer. "can't you see past that blindfold? you're starting a fire! i'm surpised my smoke alarm hasn't gone off!"

you reach over and turn the exhaust fan on, something he hadn't even done, and squint through the fog to look at what he was making.

"what is that?"

"it's soup! i heard soup is good for you when you're sick."

you look between the lump of black coal in the pot and gojo's smiling face. "soup has water in it."

"i know, i added that! it just all disappeared." gojo stirs the pot, and you're no longer sure what exactly, he was stirring. "i even added the pills you wanted to take so it'll be easier."

you wordlessly reach down and turn off the gas stove.

he lets you. "thanks, i was just about to plate this."

gojo begins manoeuvring your kitchen with a familiarity you weren't sure how he obtained. he opens the overhead pantry and takes out a bowl, pulls out the utensils from its respective drawer, and uses your favourite spatula to transfer the black lump of something.

he places the bowl in front of you. "here you go."

you stare at it for so long, you start seeing black. eventually, you begin registering the item. "wait a minute, is this a cursed object? did you infuse your cursed energy into this?"

gojo has that stupid grin on his face, the one that he uses when he knows he's in the right. "it is! this should make you better in no time. i used to give this to megumi all the time when he was sick."

"but it looks so..."

gojo digs through his pockets, pulling something out and hiding it in his fist. he holds it out to you. "if you're good and eat it, i'll give you this."

"what is it?"

"it's a secret." gojo says. "c'mon, be a good girl and take your medicine."

you huff, pulling your gaze away from his hand and towards the black lump. it looks edible, maybe if you squint at it, and it didn't seem all too big. you could probably get it down in two big bites. so with the determination of a seasoned warrior, you square your shoulders and break off a chunk, throwing it into your mouth.

your face immediately scrunches up as the taste hits you.

gojo coos at you from the side. "you're almost done."

you glare at him through tears, gulping the substance down when you're able to, and stuff the remaining bit into your mouth.

when it's travelling down your oesophagus, you thrust the bowl back into gojo's hands. "you better give me that thing in your hand."

gojo places his fist in your hands and opens it. a single candy stares up at you. "it's strawberry flavour, your favourite."

you murmur curses at him under your breath, something about him treating you like a child, but take the candy anyway. when you pop it in your mouth, the sweetness is almost enough to make you forget the taste of the cursed object. gojo's sweet smile fills in those absences as he gestures you to follow him.

perhaps the cursed object gets to you, or gojo’s presence has wormed its way into being comforting because you find yourself following.

"where are we going?" you ask as he leads you around your own home.

"to bed. the medicine will only work if your parasympathetic nervous system is working and considering who you are, you'll never know true relaxation if you're awake."

"hey." you sniffle indignantly. "i know how to have fun and experience leisure."

he hums but doesn't answer, leading you into your room. thinking that a nap would indeed do you good, you start to pull off the shirt you were wearing and wriggle out of your pants. perhaps the sickness had done more to you than you realised, because you forget gojo's presence, whipping your head to find him still standing at your door, his back to you.

"i didn't see anything." he says, immediately.

you grumble, throwing yourself into your bed and sliding under the covers. only then does gojo turn to you.

"you're really docile when you're sick."

"i'll put my foot in your mouth."

gojo laughs, turning around to head out when you call his name.

"are you leaving?"

he smiles, peering over his shoulder. "miss me already? i'll be back, i promise."

"i don't believe in your promises." you say again, but let him go, sleep taking over you. you slip in and out of consciousness as the fever reaches its peak, time slipping away from your knowledge.

every now and then, you hear footsteps, and the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. one time, you open your eyes and find gojo standing over you, a towel in his hands. "good morning."

you mumble out something that even you couldn't understand, and slip into another fever-induced sleep.

the next time you open your eyes, you're relatively more lucid. you sit up slightly and something wet falls off your forehead. you catch the towel in your hands.

gojo looks up from his spot in your chair, placed beside your bed. "you're up again. here, hand me that."

you wordlessly pass it over to him and he replenishes it in the basin he'd placed on your bedside table. you say without thinking, "maybe you really are good at taking care of sick people."

gojo grins, lightly pushing you to lay down again. "i told you so. you're alot less of a handful than megumi was."

the warmth of the towel soothes you and you close your eyes against the sensation. you hear gojo flicking through a book in his hands, and the sound of paper against fingers lolls you into another comfortable slumber. a nagging thought tickles the back of your mind and with effort, you peer up at him.

when you mumble something incoherent, gojo looks over at you. “what?”

“i said.” you lick your lips and try again. “what did you come here for? you never told me.”

he gives you a slight smile and reaches over, adjusting the towel. “you said you were sick. i wanted to check up on you.”

“but—”

“you can’t fall asleep if you keep talking.” he reprimands. “shall i sing you a lullaby so you can sleep quicker? megumi never lets me.”

even before you can reply, he starts beatboxing and you realised in your sick state that it was the intro to twinkle twinkle little star.

regardless, having gotten an answer, you close your eyes again and let the sleep drag you under. vaguely, you realise gojo must have arrived at your apartment immediately after you had informed yaga that you were sick, stopping only to grab the ingredients to his cursed object cure. you'd have to thank him when you wake up, if you remember.

with a soft exhale, you slip away, gojo's rendition of twinkle twinkle little star your escort.

guess who is sick. guess who is sick studying anatomy. guess who is sick studying anatomy and with a gas stove that is out to get her. the answer may shock you!

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru x you #ieiri shoko

[yuri-is-online]

Out of the Bag (Jamil, Ace, and Idia x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: (so uhhhh Jamil and Ace were supposed to be a part of the original post but I cut them out because I had to go to bed but forgot to remove the tags, sorry </3) they/them pronouns used for Yuu, sibling snark (Jamil and Ace) vs light angst (the Shroud parents), light reference to certain events in Ch. 6, but nothing specific. If you liked this please check out the first version on my masterlist.

Jamil

"Oh yeah, you're Najma, right?" The younger girl looks pleasantly surprised you have remembered her from your visit to the Scalding Sands.

"Well that makes this a lot easier, do you know where Jamil is?" You internally cheer at how polite she is, some of the other families you have been dealing with today have really been testing your patience. "I've been looking everywhere for him, but couldn't seem to find a good opportunity to sneak up on him." Or maybe not, that doesn't sound like she hasn't seen him at all, why is she asking you?

"According to my schedule he's probably in the gym for the club activities program." You confirm with your clipboard and Najma sighs.

"Lame, he's gonna be all sweaty and gross." She checks her phone as you sneak a glance at Grim trying to figure out how much longer you have before you need to find something shiny to distract him. "Actually maybe I can just ask you." You turn your attention back to Najma who seems to be tapping her cheek with her phone and sizing you up. "Is there anywhere to get snacks on campus?"

"Now you're talkin!" Cheers Grim, bringing a really bright smile to Najma's face and a tentative one to yours. "Mr. S's Mystery Shop's got all the tuna you can ask for!"

"And other things to." You helpfully add and Najma happily begins to follow.

"So what do you like to do?" she asks almost ten seconds into your walk. "Like what fun stuff is there to do around campus?"

"Shouldn't you be asking your brother?" You ask, thankful Grim is too caught up in his tuna thoughts to make any snarky comments.

"About you?" Najma laughs and you feel a bit silly. "Nah he hates being honest about things like that."

"Well I don't have much free time..." but you manage to list off some things that you like as Najma nods, still tapping her phone on her chin for some reason.

"What about food?" she stops fiddling with her phone and just goes straight to texting on it as the Mystery Shop comes into view. "I know Jamil's food looks boring but it tastes super good."

"It sure does." Grim says, well more like whines. "He only ever gives it to Yuu and gets mad when I eat it though."

"That's because he asked for my opinion, not yours." It's a petty thing to say, but hey Jamil's a good cook. Najma seems to agree, giggling before you both jump ten feet backwards as a strangely shaped blur nearly knocks you over.

"NAJMA!" Jamil is indeed, sweaty and gross looking, his basketball jersey is practically drenched through, almost like he ran the entire way to here from the gymnasium. He's doubled over, hands on his knees as you fumble around looking for the water bottle Crewel made you bring with you earlier which he gratefully takes.

"Oh hey what are you doing here Jamil?" You don't know Najma super well, but she almost sounds disappointed to see her brother. "Prefect said you were at the gym."

"Don't start." Jamil passes you back the empty water bottle, hesitating just a bit before he lets you take it. "She didn't do anything weird, right? Hasn't said anything strange?" You blink in confusion.

"No? She's just been asking a bunch of questions about stuff. Jamil relaxes, letting you take the bottle with a genuine smile-

And gets cut off by a shutter sound effect making you both turn towards Najma, who doesn't bother looking up from her phone camera.

"Whoops thought I turned that off."

Ace

"Well, well, well, just what should I do with you?"  The ginger stranger is stroking his chin with an all too familiar look that puts you on edge, not because you think he is going to try anything illegal (yet) but because you can practically see the collar on this guy already.  There really is no beating around the bush about who this guy is, even if you really wished you had some plausible deniability.   "I could tell you about that time I told him if he kissed a frog it would turn into royalty and he actually did it-"  Too much information he technically just did.  "Or what about that time he only wanted to eat carrots so I freaked him out by saying he was turning into one because his hair was orange-"  So is yours big brother Trappola!  And where the hell is Grim he is supposed to be suffering through this with you.  "Nah those are too boring- oh I got it!"  Before you can break out in a dash for the mirror chamber, big brother Trappola claps an unintentionally (you hope) firm hand on your shoulder.  "Listen to this- wait I didn't introduce myself I-"

"Ace's brother."  He seems genuinely taken aback.  "He talks about you all the time." 

"Oh does he?"  Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that, little Trappola's ego was insufferable already, older Trappola's has got to be worse right.  It's so obvious you can't even bring yourself to put the question mark on it.

"Funny you mention that, from my end it seems like all he ever talks about is Yuu."  He makes a big show of looking you over.  "Always talking about what a pain it is to look after you, but he never does stop."  He maneuvers himself to look directly into your eyes.  “You must be pretty special then, right?”

“Didn’t you used to go here?”  You ask, crossing your arms and fixing your best “not today Trappola” look onto your face.

“Sure did!  Also got put into Heartslabyul, must run in the family, we’re all a bit mad.”  Older Trappola breaks eye contact for just a second, something dancing on the tip of his tongue you have no desire to entertain at all.  You just want to ditch this overgrown root veg on his brother and then take a nap.

“So then, just to be clear, you don’t need me to show you around.”  You fumble around your clipboard looking for a map anyway.

“Oh no I absolutely need you to do that.”  You like it when Ace plays dumb better, at least it’s cute.  “Would be a really bad thing if you just left me all alone and I went somewhere I wasn’t supposed to.”  He stands up straight, looking off into the distance behind you with a dramatic sigh.  “Somewhere like Ramshackle Dorm maybe?  I hear that’s one of Ace’s-”

 A surprisingly strong pair of arms wraps you into an embrace from behind.

“Back off.” snaps Ace, a lot harsher than either of you have heard before “This one’s mine.”

Idia

"Dear! Dear! Come look it's the prefect!" A very excited very pink woman in a sundress and comically oversized sunglasses beckons to a very tall, very out place looking man who is... also wearing comically oversized sunglasses.

"The who?" he sheepishly walks over to his wife and gives you a little wave, clearly out of place but trying his best.

"The prefect! Ortho and Idia's friend." The realization seems to hit both you and Mr. Shroud at the same time, causing you both to retreat just a bit. You because you feel desperately dumb for not noticing the flaming hair and him because-

Well you hope it's because of the whole house thing but who knows.

"Oh sorry. Um we're Mr. and Mrs. Shroud but you probably already guessed that it's really nice to meet you." You awkwardly shake hands while Grim hides behind your legs.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Asks Mrs. Shroud. "I'd hate to interrupt things too much."

"Oh no that's not really an issue for me." You look down at Grim for half a second before adding. "For us."

"I'm sorry to hear that." whispers Mr. Shroud, gently taking his wife's hand and you stand around in silence for a little bit, trying to figure out how to walk the conversation from the ledge it's found itself on.

"Um if there isn't anything you need help with-"

"Idia speaks really highly of you." Mrs. Shroud says gently, and you have to keep yourself from fainting from shock. Idia speaking highly of- no forget that. Idia talks to his parents? And you were the conversation topic? If she had said it was Ortho that would make sense but Idia? "I know he can be a bit blunt, but he treasures your friendship. And as his mother, I am very grateful he has someone as kind as you in his life."

"We both are." whispers Mr. Shroud. "If you need help while you are here please don't hesitate to ask us." And with that they leave you and Grim

~~~

[Fullmetal] hey ortho said u ran into our parents irl

[Fullmetal] srry that had to be awkward

[yuu] it's cool

[yuu] I mean they spooked Grim but they were nice lol

[Fullmetal] UNACCEPTABLE

[Fullmetal] ...so do you think that he'd be cool to come over so I can like

[Fullmetal] apologize

[Fullmetal] u know for the stress

[yuu] and not for talking about me behind my back (￣ε￣)

[read at 6:57 pm]

[Fullmetal is typing... ... ...] [... ... ...] [... ... ...]

"I don't need to apologize if I said nice things... right?"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ace trappola x reader #idia shroud x reader #Najma texting Jamil within 10 seconds of seeing the prefect: *get over here or i am stealing ur bitch* #also not me googling “funniest lies to tell kids” to write ace's brother and then not using any of them #also idia enjoyers... idk if i did your boy well i am so sorry

[fumikoshi]

''How could you do this to your beloved husband, y/n…? I thought you loved me...''

...

''...No answer, huh? You pretended to love me all this time. Tell me, y/n, why did you marry me? To play with my feelings?''

''...Toru, don't exaggerate. Whatever you do, my decision is final. Just for one month, you'll stay away from sugar and sweets and sweets. It's for your own good.''

Your voice was stern, you weren't going to let him change your mind. He breathed dramatically and pressed his hand to his chest.

''I can't believe that my own wife wants to kill me-! Is this your plan to get rid of me? How could you do this to me? How do you think I can do it without those soft kikufukus, sweet cakes, and candies?''

''Toru-! Don't act like a drama queen, it's only one month.''

''What?! 10 years? Ah- please kill me instead of this..''

You sighed deeply. He really was like a child. Sometimes you think you're babysitting a child.

''Please, my lovely wifey~, you can't spare your super handsome, strong and lovely hubby~''

he took your delicate face in his huge hands and he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes that he thought you couldn't say no to him. You frowned and grabbed his large hands and pulled them away from your cheeks.

''No is no, Satoru. You can't make me change my mind.''

he pursed his lips and threw himself down on the couch and spoke in a whimpering voice.

''You're too cruel to your hubby''

It was hard for you to restrict him from what he loved, but you had to do it. He ate too many sweets, and sometimes he preferred to have cake or candy instead of breakfast. This was very bad for his health. Especially teeth health. You thought that one month without sugar would reduce his sugar addiction.

At the end of one month, the last day of his diet, you will make him his favorite kikufuku with your own hands as a reward for his patience. With less sugar, of course.

Everything was going well for one week. At least that's what you thought. Little did you know, Gojo's love for sugar was as unyielding as his determination in battle.

One evening, as you preparing dinner, you heard a faint rustling coming from the direction of the pantry. Suspicion pricked at your senses. you went to the pantry to find out the source of the sound.

There, standing amidst the shelves of provisions, was Gojo himself, a joyful expression flitting across his features as he hastily stuffed something into his mouth. There was a lot of candy in an old box. Now you understand. The day you imposed the ban, he had made himself a stash of candy and put them in an old box, and placed the box in the pantry so it wouldn't attract too much attention.

That explains why he goes to the pantry every day, always with some excuse.

Caught red-handed, he froze, his eyes widening in surprise and guilt when he noticed you. The candies fell out of his hand

"Gojo Satoru," you exclaimed, your voice a mixture of disbelief and admonishment. "What do you think you're doing?"

Gojo attempted to feign innocence, his mouth still half-full of contraband candy. "Oh, wifey," he began, his voice laced with charm. "I was just… uh… inspecting the pantry! Yes, inspecting. I-I felt the presence of a curse here"

you crossed your arms over your chest, your patience wearing thin.

"Don't try to make excuses your way out of this, Satoru," you retorted, your tone firm. "You know very well that I've forbidden you from eating sugary stuff. And yet, here you are, sneaking around like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar."

Gojo's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Buut I just couldn't resist~."

He whined like a child. You sighed and shook your head in disbelief. "You're worse than a child sometimes, you know that? You're lucky I love you. Throw them in the trash right now and wash your hands. Dinner will be ready soon" When you said this, he pursed his lips and whined.

''...Okay''

Suddenly, a wry grin formed on his lips and pulled you to his chest

''But maybe you'll let me eat you out after dinner to curb my sweet tooth, wifey~''

Your eyes widened and cheeks turned red when you understood what he implied.

''Satoru!''

Fumi: I would be very happy if you could tell me what you think of this one-shot in the comments. ♥

#gojo angst #gojo imagine #gojo fanfic #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x you #jjk satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #gojo jjk #satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk x reader

[ohworm-writes]

「✰」 ━━ SECRET SANTA

PAIRING John Price x fem!reader (?) x Simon "Ghost" Riley

RATING R - Restricted [Content warnings: 18+ mdni, personalized fic (reader name provided and utilitzed), f!sub!reader, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, polyship, polyamorous relationship dynamics, the icing is supposed to look like cum... I don't know what else to tell you, minimal cursing, nipple play, brief fingering]

SYNOPSIS My submission for @bunnyreaper's organized secret santa event for @bookobsessedram. I do genuinely hope that you enjoy it, Aqua - I was super excited to get you, and it was a challenge to keep my mouth shut throughout the entirety of this event because I was so excited. Hope you enjoy!

WORD COUNT 2.3k

The icing packet feels cool in your hands, both held steady as you carefully squeeze it, applying just enough pressure that a steady stream of white pushes out. The vanilla icing drags carefully along the surface of the shortbread cookie, the line you’re focused on making as straight as it can be, the task more difficult than it looks.

Your teeth gently bite down onto your tongue as it protrudes from your mouth, eyes narrowed into a concentrated glare, focused solely on the task at hand - icing the cookies you had brought out of the oven a little over fifteen minutes ago, give or take. The process takes a considerable amount of patience and focus, both of which you have an abundance of.

The same can’t exactly be said for your boyfriends.

“C’mon, Em, leave the rest for the mornin’.” Simon huffs out, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his head cocked to the side, lifted barely an inch above his shoulder as he watches you from his place behind you leaned against the kitchen countertop beside the sink. His voice is rough, gravely, a twang of lighthearted, faux  annoyance present and he urges you to give it a rest.

He’s dressed in a loose, baggy black t-shirt with joggers to match, blond strands of hair messy and tousled, courtesy of the time he’s spent all day running around buying last-minutes ingredients for you. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, though - especially not when it means he’ll be able to enjoy the treats alongside you and John once they’re complete. 

Speaking of, the captain in question lets out a low hum, agreeing with Simon’s comment.

“He’s right, love. You’ve been at it all day. You can pick it back up in the mornin’, yeah?”

He encourages, trying a different approach to have you call it quits. He, unlike Simon whose spending his time doing nothing but watching you work, tasks himself with washing the dishes that remain stacked haphazardly in the sink, the front of his form-fitting tee dampened with a mixture of water and soap as he works to scrub and rinse the dishes. 

His eyes flicker to Simon for a moment, lips gliding over the skin of his teeth as his eyes narrow slightly, putting back down the bowl he was rinsing in the sink with one hand, his other reaching over to grab a hand towel and tossing it towards Simon, the fabric making a soft thump as it collides with his chest. Simon catches it before it can fall, giving him a silent look of confusion. 

John’s eyes flicker between Simon’s, the towel, and the clean, wet dishes that stack on the drying rack before turning back to washing the dishes, allowing Simon to come to his own conclusions with a huff with a subtle roll of his eyes - playful in nature, of course - as he starts on with his task of drying the dishes. 

Though, even with both of their urgings and encouragement, you refuse to step away from your work for the hundredth time, both to John and Simon’s detriment. Instead of listening, you continue to work on the little snowman you’ve been focused on making - surprisingly, even with only white, vanilla frosting at your disposal, looks extremely good and well detailed. 

“I’ve only got like… a few more left to do. Makes no sense leaving it to the morning when I can just finish it now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Mark all by himself - I’ve got to finish his friends.”

John lets out a choked laugh, snorting as his shoulders shaking, gently biting down onto his bottom lip as a means to try and stifle his own amusement while Simon takes it upon himself to connect the dots. There’s a pause for few beats between the three of you, filled with nothing but running water and dishware being settled into the drying rack, only to be picked up by Simon.

“Did you name the bloody biscuit Mark, Em?”

A few giggles pass through your own lips, back still to the two men behind you, though shaking all the same as you laugh to yourself. John’s not much different, coughing and clearing his throat in a poor attempt to stop himself from breaking out into his own fit of laughter. Simon rolls his eyes with a huff, an amused smirk spreading out across his lips.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. Children, the both of ya’.”

His words only spur you on further, detaching yourself from the cookies, bringing on of your hands up to your mouth as you gently bite down onto your fist, giggling. Your other hand, still holding the icing packet, squeezes, applying more pressure than you intended for it to, causing for the white icing to splurt out messily from the top, dripping down the plastic, coating your palm and fingers in the process.

The idiocy of the situation only makes you harder, eyes crinkling with amusement as you let out a snort. Though, as much as you find entertainment in the situation, Simon - whose had a front-row seat in witnessing your antics - is more focused on the way the white, sticky frosting clings to your skin, slowly beginning to melt and becoming thinner in consistency.

His hands slow with their work drying off the dishes, the towel held in one of his hands coming to hang loosely in the air while the other holds tightly onto a ceramic bowl, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. John, sensing Simon’s faltering and loss in focus, turns his attention briefly over to him, pursing his lips softly.

His voice comes out into the space between the two of them, barely louder than a whisper - though, it’s not like there’s any use in whispering, given the way you’re losing your mind in your own amusement is loud enough to drown out any normal-level voiced conversation.

“Si-”

“Look at her hands.”

Simon quickly cuts him off, jutting his chin out slightly, turning his head back as he straightens out his own posture, nostrils flaring as he rolls his shoulders back. With a roll of his eyes, John moves his head, peeking over his shoulder to look behind him, eyes softening as they land on your face first, the joy etched into it, before they trail down to your palms.

“Fuck me.”

He mumbles out, teeth gritted as his own hands match Simon’s as they still. The hot water continues to run in the sink, his hands free as they rest beneath the stream. He swallows thickly, eyes flickering to Simon’s for just a moment - it isn’t hard to catch the hunger that lingers in his gaze - before moving right back to your hands.

You, however, are so completely and utterly oblivious to how the sight of the sticky, white icing, continuing to thin as the cool glaze keeps continued contact with your heated skin, affects both of your boyfriends. The way it smears against the packet and your palms, leaving a string behind from where it sticks between the two points, awfully familiar to a certain other liquid.

So, it’s no wonder you have no clue how it affects either of them when you bring your palm up to your mouth, tongue darting out to press against it and licking a hot, wet stripe upwards, catching quite a lot of it on your tongue. Washing and drying the dishes are a task completely forgotten, both Simon and John’s eyes focused solely on you, even if you don’t realize it yet.

Simon lets out a grunt, John a stifled groan, all while you focus on licking your hand clean.

You’re so focused on licking your fingers completely clean, though, tongue passing over every inch of skin near them that you can reach, that you completely miss the way that some of the frosting has dripped down to your wrist, a stream traveling to and gathering there, before a sizeable glob it falls, splattering messily against your chest.

It falls just below your collarbones, starting to leave a trail down between the valley between your tits. The shirt you have on is fairly low cut, so it’s easy to see the process as it happens, much of your upper chest already exposed to the air. You purse your lips slightly, working to clean off the rest of your hand before moving your hand.

You intentions are fully set on picking it up with your finger, dragging it up a trail and licking it off. However, a rough, worn, warm palm stops you, gently grabbing onto your wrist as a means to halt your actions - though, the tenseness of it’s hold is unmistakable, challenging that forced gentleness it holds.

“I got it.”

You don’t even know when Simon moved away from the counter and towards you, but before you can fully process it, much less protest his actions, he’s already moving you, gently urging you a step or two backwards as he takes your old place, standing in front of you as he looks down, brown eyes, once so warm and light, darkened with lust.

His eyes remain focused solely on you, hand moving from your wrist, up your arm, before settling on the side of your neck, gently tilting it back, though far enough that you can still see him as he bends downwards. His stocky form leans into you, hot breath ghosting over your skin as his own tongue peeks out past his lips, licking up the sweet icing onto his tongue.

As his tongue cleans you up, Price’s footsteps fall just audible enough that you can barely hear them, therefore not surprising you as his hands find purchase on your hips, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the base of your neck, letting a breath out through his nostrils that fans out along your skin.

He gently nips at the skin, chuckling lowly, the sound erupting from deep within his chest as he moves to rest his head atop your shoulder, looking down and watching Simon, just as you are, as he licks the sticky icing clean from your skin, holding you firmly in place so that the blond can have his way with you as he pleases.

“Messy girl…”

Simon mumbles out against your skin, forcing a shiver that crawls up your spine, sinking its claws into your flesh as his licks turn into kisses, which turn into nips, which escalate into something more. His hand moves from the side of your neck to press into your shoulder, urging you to lean backwards into John while his free hand moves down towards the front of your shirt.

You follow the action, back pressing flush against the front of John’s chest, feeling the way he pulls you in further by the hips, the hardness of his cock easily noteable against your back.

One of Simon’s fingers hook around the fabric, twisting it around as he pulls it downwards, stretching it, and moving it to come underneath your bra, framing them - and, in kind, your tits - perfectly. You feel your own eyes flutter, breathing growing heavy and catching in your throat as your knees grow weak, held up solely by John, who simply grins smugly at Simon.

“C’mon, Simon. You can do better than that. Wan’na hear our girl moan, don’t you?”

He encourages, borderline chasting the other man, his grin widening as Simon huffs out a breath of amusement, moving both of his hands down towards the front of your chest and hooking his thumbs around the cups of your bra, jerking them downwards in a rough motion, freeing your breats with one simple action. 

He immediately moves further, bending down in what must be an uncomfortable position as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers move to pinch and twist the other, groaning against you. You can feel your own hips buck upwards as the most pathetic whine passes through your lips.

The desperate hunger in his actions mixed with John’s subtle motions of dominance make your head feel as though it’s tilting on its axis, getting spun ‘round and around until you’re positively dizzy, keening, whining, and moaning out unabashedly and without any semblance of shame.

One of John’s hands, both of which had been doing nothing more than holding you by the hips, move forwards, dipping beneath the waistband of your trousers and panties, middle and index finger spreading out as they meet your soaking cunt, gently spreading your folds apart. He isn’t at all concerned with taking either articles off and, if anything, seems spurred on by the challenge the boundaries offer.

“Soaked already, hmm? We haven’t even done anythin’ yet, Em.”

He taunts you, feeling the way your slick coats his fingers with ease as he inches his way towards your opening, swirling a sole finger around it in a slow, counterclockwise motion. He just barely teases the tip of his finger inwards, chuckling at the way you try to writhe and get more from him, all the while Simon puts all of his attention on your pretty tits.

“In ‘er defense, we’ve done a lot more than nothin’.”

Simon mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away before diving right back in, working to suck a hickey into the soft flesh of your breast right next to your nipple, leaving an assortment of them with the inclusion of nips and bites all along your skin, making a conscious effort to provide equal parts of attention to both of them.

John rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue gently as he pushes a finger inwards, feeling the way your walls welcome the intrusion with greed, swallowing the single finger up whole. He turns his neck just barely to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, letting his lips rest there, breathing out in heavy breaths that match your own and Simon’s alike.

“Guess she’ll have to build up a defense for herself then, huh, Simon?”

“Guess she will.”

It seems like you will have to leave the rest of the decorating for the morning, now won’t you?

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

[benedictscanvas]

i came across “i saved you a seat” and immediately fell in love with your writing 🥹🥹

could i request a jamie tartt x fem!reader where they both like each other but they’re both too scared to act on it so they’re kinda snappy to each other? and then angry love confession 🥹🥹🥹

only if you have the time!! love your writing so much <3

thank you my lovely, lovely anon <3 i loved the idea of this so much, but i'm not super happy with it, i think because i often struggle to write enemies to lovers in a oneshot without feeling unrealistic?? i hope you still like it and are happy to suspend some reality with me haha | 2.4k words!! tw language

"Tartt!' you bellowed across the dressing room, enjoying the way most of the team jump at your sudden commotion. The man himself just turned his head to you nonchalantly, and it only fuelled your fire, "Your fucking car is blocking me in."

"Right," he said, prolonging the sound, "And y' telling me because...?"

"Just move it, dickhead," you sighed, still in the doorway, "It's a bloody eyesore and all."

"She is a classic. And classy. Two things you wouldn't know anythin' about."

You snorted at that one, but refused to take the bait, flipping him off as you marched out of there and back the way you came towards the car park. Jamie was sure to make you wait but he would move it eventually. He wasn't a total monster.

Actually, everything would have been easier if he was a total monster, like he used to be. Now he was nice to everyone and smiled all the time and had way better hair - but he still couldn't bring himself to change his attitude towards you. Always at your throat.

You stood waiting for him, head buried in your arms that rested on your car. Eventually, you heard footsteps, but you didn't bother to raise your head.

"Where'd y' expect me to move it? No spaces, love."

"Just out of the way," you groaned into your forearms, "God, Jamie, I need to get home, would y' just do it?"

"No need to get funny 'bout it," he said and you lifted your head to glare at him to find him smirking, "What're you so desperate to be home for anyway?"

"Fuck off, Jamie," you said, staring out at the pitch behind him, "What is your problem?"

"My problem?" he said incredulously, taking a step towards you to force you to look at him, "I asked about what you were up to, Y/N, what the fuck?"

"I just don't need this right now, Jamie."

"Don't need what?"

"You!" you exclaim, pushing yourself away from your car and even closer to him, "Prancing about being a total dick to me and positively lovely to everyone else. I haven't got any fucking patience left for it, I need to get home because I just got a call that my entire kitchen is flooded, if you must know."

He just stared at you. Unflinching. You sighed, defeated, no venom left in your tone.

"Just move the car, Jamie. Please."

“Yeah, fuck, okay,” he said, voice small, “I’ll move it, alright?”

You went back to your previous position, arms on the car, this time with your head in your hands. It really shouldn’t bother you this much, but you decided to blame it on your shitty day rather than Jamie himself or the way you found yourself looking at him sometimes. The way you wished he’d just be nice to you, even for a moment. You weren’t an idiot - you knew that you’d never been nice to him, that he had no reason to change. It was just too terrifying - the idea of trying to be nice and him deciding he hated you anyway. Or that maybe he was never the prick and it had been you all along. All of it was too much.

A soft hand on your shoulder brings you out of your head, and you see Jamie standing sheepishly in front of you. You stared at his hand for a moment, but he’s quick to remove it. When you check, his car is categorically not out of your way - he’s moved it so that it’s blocking the exit instead. You felt the horrible sting of tears welling up and ducked your head to hide them.

“What have I done to you?” you ask miserably and his brow furrows before he realises what you’re talking about.

“No, fuck, no,” he mutters, leaning his head back to sky in frustration, “I’m not- Look, let me drive you home. You’ll need someone else there if your kitchen is flooded.”

So that was why he hadn’t moved his car properly - it was ready to go. He was ready to go, keys still in his hand, despite the fact he hadn’t got his bag or anything. One of the pesky tears fell and you brushed the traitor away with harsh fingertips.

“You’re in no state to drive, yeah? I won’t even talk the whole way, just let me-”

He trails off. You’re tired to the bones. It would probably take more effort at this point to convince him not to come with you, so although you can’t work out his angle, you nod your head and start walking over to his car, only stopping when he bounds ahead of you to open the passenger door for you. You furrow your brow at him, but climb in nonetheless and the two of you are speeding off into the setting sun before you know it.

The quiet bothers you. He said he wouldn’t speak, and he was sticking to it, but you were desperate to fill the awful silence.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, hating the way your voice sounds with the lump still in your throat, “You hate me.”

Jamie laughed then, but it wasn’t the same sound that echoed through the corridors at Richmond from the dressing room. It was much harsher than that.

“Y’ mean, you hate me,” he argued, “That’s how we work, ain’t it? You hate me so I get under y’ skin for fun and then y’ hate me more.”

You stared at the side of his face, even though his gaze didn’t falter from the road ahead.

“You…don’t hate me?”

“Trust me, you’re fuckin’ annoying as shit sometimes. And I’ve tried. But no. Can’t seem to.”

Can’t seem to? That was such a weird way to put it. You shook your head as you returned your own eyes to the road.

“You’re such a dickhead to me, Jamie,” you murmured, hands rigid in your lap, “I know you used to be a dickhead to everyone including me, but now you’re nice to everyone except me. It’s shitty.”

“Yeah, cause you’re shitty!” he exclaimed, slapping a hand against the steering wheel in frustration, “I get that I used to be awful, fuckin’ hell, but it’s like y’ remind me everyday. Like I can’t escape it with you.”

“I was willing to give you a chance when you came back…”

“No, y’ fuckin’ weren’t. Nobody was. And it took ages, but I won ‘em all over except you.”

You stayed quiet for a few seconds. You hadn’t been ready to give him a chance at first, he was right, but it had been months since Jamie came back. You wondered if it had always been a chicken and egg situation - both of you rude to the other for no other reason than the other’s rudeness. Than the fear of trying kindness and having it rejected outright.

“I couldn’t be nice to you when you came back,” you eventually speak up, picking at your nails and staring down at them intently, “What if I was nice and you were still a prize prick? It was fucking scary. I don’t like getting hurt.”

He scoffed, and you felt some of your vulnerability coming back to bite you already.

“Y’ don’t like getting hurt? But you had no problem hurting me every fuckin’ day, huh?”

He was practically snarling by the end of your sentence. You felt sick. This is exactly what you’d been afraid of - show a little vulnerability at how you struggled with the new him, and have it thrown back in your face. The walls were rebuilding themselves as you spoke.

“Why the fuck would my shitty little comments hurt you, Jamie? Thought y’ didn’t give a single shit what I think of you.”

“Well, maybe I fuckin’ do!”

“Do what?” you said, volume rising along with his.

He groaned, a strangled sound, as he pulled the car over at the nearest kerb a little too quickly for your liking. You reached out to the door handle to steady yourself, glaring at him when you came to a stop and he turned the engine off.

“I’m not doin’ this now. I said I’d take you home without talkin’ so let’s just do that, yeah?” he said, seething. There was no way that was happening now.

“No. You tell me what you mean so we can finally settle this.”

Another strangled groan, this time accompanied by him bashing his head into the steering wheel and then leaving it there, muttering to himself. You continued to glare at him until he finally turned his head to look at you, temple still against his hands.

“Fine. Fuckin’ fine,” he said angrily, leaning back in his chair and making proper eye contact with you for the first time since you’d entered his car. You could feel your heart thrumming in your chest, in your ears, “You’ve always been so fuckin’ headstrong, and you don’t take shit, and you’re nice to everyone but me-”

“Yeah, because -”

“Just listen for a minute, would ya?” he scowled and you shut up despite yourself, “Look, I don’t need to tell ya that you’re fuckin’ fit. You just are. Always had a thing for you, back in the day, but it was jus’ physical, yeah? Cause you’d shout at me and look all hot doin’ it. Now I’ve been back for like, what, three months? An’ it’s like a full blown fuckin’ crush or something. I hate it. I see you being all kind and shit to someone and then I come along and you say somethin’ all snarky and I just-”

You were hanging on his every word. When he hesitated, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You just what?” you said softly, leaning closer to the center console without even meaning to. He sighs, but that same frustration seems to have dissipated during his speech, and now he can’t look at you again, instead fiddling with a loose thread on his shorts.

“I just go all weak. In me knees, and that. It’s so stupid.”

You know your eyes must be comically wide right now, breath coming out in silly little pants.

“You have a crush on me? You snap at me because…you like me?”

“God, don’t say it like that,” he moans, dramatically banging his head against the steering wheel again to hide his face, and his blush, you can safely assume, “How embarrassing is it to have a crush on a girl who hates my guts?”

“Ugh, are you really going to be so self-deprecating that you’re going make me say it?” you whined, watching when he peeks out from the steering wheel at you with one eye, “Fine. But if this is all some joke and you’re horrible after this I’m getting out of the car.”

He nods eagerly, sitting back up again. He’s such a puppy, you wonder how you’ve ever been anything but nice to him for a second.

“I used to have an awful thing for you,” you said quickly, closing your eyes when you see his whole face light up, “When you were a prick. You were awful and I still wanted to jump on you any given second. That really was embarrassing. So when you came back, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let myself like you because I knew then I’d end up…liking you. If you get what I mean.”

“You’re saying you snap at me because you like me too?”

“Liked, Jamie,” you corrected, wagging a stern finger, “And please keep in mind that I hadn’t been with anyone for a while and my judgement was poor.”

“Well yeah, if you liked me when I was terrible, like. But I don’t think your judgement would be that bad if y’ happened to like me now?”

It was the first time you’d ever heard his teasing, flirty tone turned on you. It was very difficult not to get flustered and though you tried, you could tell you were failing when you tucked your hair behind your ear.

“There’s a lot of bridges to cross before we get there,” you said, but there’s a smile hovering on your lips, “We need to learn how to be nice to each other without being scared we’ll end up ridiculed.”

He nodded again, dutifully. You get used to agreeing with him.

“How about we start by getting back to my house? This flood thing is real, y’know?”

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, turning the engine back on suddenly, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I genuinely forgot.”

You laugh a little as he pulls back out onto the road and continues driving, gratified when he chuckles too and its closer to the warmth you usually hear in his laugh. It’s never been because of you before.

"You are classy by the way. And a classic. Some of the insults I've used for ya have made no fuckin' sense. And I'm sorry."

It meant more to hear that than you could possibly tell him now. Maybe some other time, when a few more things were mended, you could tell him that his apology meant everything to you.

"I'm sorry, too. Really sorry, actually. I think we've both...god we've been so unfair to each other."

"We have, yeah."

"I quite like your car really."

He just smiles at that, warmth flowing from it as he looks over at you from his spot in the driver's seat to make sure you've seen it.

Soon, you found the car enveloped in a far more comfortable silence than before for a while, only interrupted when Jamie pulls up to your house after a few directions from you to get the right one. You sit in the car for a few moments, both waiting for the other to speak, until you decided to just go for it.

“If we can fix this stupid kitchen, maybe…” you felt yourself scared to offer, still worried about being turned down or rejected or made fun of, but you pushed the anxiety down into the pit of your stomach and continued, “Maybe you can stay. For a cuppa. We could, y'know, actually talk to each other? See how long this truce lasts?”

“Mhm, okay,” he said, but when you sneak a glance at him, he’s grinning like a madman, “Okay. Guess I could stay for a bit.”

“Just the one cup though, yeah?” you confirm, but you’re grinning too, and you hope he’s noticed.

“One cup. Wouldn’t dream of two.”

(but he stays for four, including one with breakfast the next morning, and somehow, the two of you are pretty damn nice to each other the whole time)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt fluff

[beenbaanbuun]

Not sure if this is a request or me just going insane after reading your dumbification yeo fic but oop-

Been thinking about jealous Yeosang nonstop since then because I always get a little disappointed when fics paint him as this super passive, open lover. I mean it's all well and good to be someone who's genuinely okay with their partner having multiple partners/being kinda flirty, but I honestly don't see him as the type to be that chill

I mean sure he wouldn't exactly be as loud or aggressive about it as sayyy.... Joong or Sannie, I am a switch!Yeosang enthusiast after all, but I still think he'd get upset if he saw you being too chummy with one of your guy friends or one of the other members.

Early on in the relationship it would probably be all cute, he gets pouty and quiet, maybe clingy after and he needs lots of affirmation and assurance before he feels secure again.

But once he's comfortable with you? C'mon, you CANNOT tell me he's not the type to pin you against the door as soon as you get home, hands and lips desperately latching on to you as you clutch at his hair, deep voice muffled by your skin as he seethes over That Guy who kept hitting on you or how Wooyoung was a little too touchy for his peace of mind (woo totally did it on purpose btw).

And oh my god if those angry growls turn desperate? If you're not responding verbally cuz you're just so overwhelmed by everything that's Yeo?? And he suddenly whines into your neck and nuzzles your pulse point seeking verbal affirmation??? And you grip his hair and he whimpers when you tug so he has to look you in the eye?????

I need to calm tf down before I drop a whole 1.5k word smut fic in your ask box but you get the idea XDD

Jealous yeo lives rent free in my brain and you're writing has him running LAPS TwT we as a fandom have failed to have enough yeosang smut on the market and it Saddens Me

~Lyra

i am CLINICALLY INSANE!!!!!!!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME 😭😭😭

like i’m sorry but i can imagine him just pinning you to the door, fully clothed, and grinding up against you. his mouth is just on your neck, sucking, biting, kissing at your flesh until its mottled with purple bruises. like there’s literally no rhyme or reason, he’s just that desperate to his his mouth on you and mark you up that he barely gives you a minute to think straight.

like you’re still both fully dressed and your back is still presses uncomfortable against the door, but that doesn’t stop yeosang from bucking his hips up into yours, dry humping you because he doesn’t have the patience with you right now. he needs you to know that you’re his and his alone.

“can’t fucking believe you,” he growls before biting down on the soft flesh. you keen at the sensation, legs going weak. you’re glad he has you pinned to the door; if he didn’t, you might fall, “all over that guy as if you don’t have a perfectly good boyfriend who takes care of you. what? did you just want my attention? because now you have it.”

you whimper as he grinds down hard against your pelvis, his clothed hard-on rubbing so deliciously against your folds. you want him in you, but with everything that’s going on, you can barely think, let alone talk.

“s-sangie-” you choke out, trying to tell him how bad you need him, but you’re cut off by the whine that claws it’s way up your throat.

“what?” he grunts into your neck, “you want to tell me something?”

you nod, but no words come out. yeosang chuckles darkly into your neck.

“go on then, baby,” his teeth graze against you, threatening to add to the purple bruises that run up and down your skin, “if you’re going to tell me anything, tell me how bad you need me.”

you know it’s an ego thing. of course it is; yeosang was obviously hurt when he saw you flirting with the other man, and now it’s your job to repair that. and you would, if you could hold a thought for more than two seconds. you’d love nothing more than to stroke his ego, make him feel all big and powerful and like he’s the only man in the world.

but you just can’t. every time you open your mouth, you lose your train of thought and all that comes out is a few pants as yeosang tears your mind down to nothing. you cant even focus when he pulls back a little, studying your face with glassy eyes before diving right back into your neck. he doesn’t suck, or bite, or kiss this time. he just nuzzles the sticky skin with his nose, mumbling almost incoherent words against it.

“baby,” he says after a moment or two, voice a little breathier than before, “baby, please tell me me how much you need me. need to hear it.”

his tongue darts out and he begins to lap one of the bite marks, as if trying to soothe it. it only makes your mind race more.

as do the continuous whimpers that you can hear spilling into the air, only this time they’re not from you. they’re from yeosang.

yeosang who is still grinding into you, albeit with sloppier, softer motions than before. who is still pinning you to the wall, only with a more desperate grip, as if you’ll slip away if he lets go. who still has his face pressed against your neck, words slipping from his mouth, but now they beg rather than degrade.

“baby, please,” he whispers, and you feel something wet fall against your neck; a tear, “i need you tell tell me you need me.”

he sounds so pathetic, crying into your neck like that, and it soon sinks in that the tables have turned without you even really realising. the man that had pinned you to the door minutes prior, wanting nothing more than to teach you a lesson, had vanished. he’s been replaced by your baby boy, who was so desperate to hear how much you wanted him. so desperate to know that you loved him as much as he loved you.

you try your hardest to gather your thoughts, just enough for you to be able to scrape together a sentence or so. but with yeosang bucking against you like a dog in heat, its so incredibly hard. add that to the fact that he’s gone back to suckling at your neck like its going to bring him some sort of comfort and there’s no way you were getting a coherent sentence out.

so you lace you fingers into his hair, grateful of how long it had gotten, and tug. he lets out a long whimper, eyes rolling into the back of his head as you tug his far enough back to see his face. you tug again, wordlessly pleading for him to look at you. just once would be enough for him to see how thoroughly mindless he has you already. just once for him to understand that he is all you can think about right now.

#ateez x reader #yeosang hard thoughts #yeosang hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #yeosang smut

[decolonize-the-left]

I just think you're weird for suggesting ai should be an alternative to anything when y'all can't even treat Humans correctly. Like did y'all forget?

The only reason ai exists is so they don't have to pay a fucking human for the same job.

"yeah but I'm embarrassed when I rp"

You should be! It's fucking embarrassing! So what???!

"I can't make art tho"

Then don't!!!

I'm 10000000% convinced that it's privilege that makes people believe that just because you Want something then you should be able to do it or have access to it even when you have No meaningful way of accessing it yourself.

Like when people get pets when they literally aren't even home enough to take care of it so they use those dystopian ass software to train their dogs when they aren't even home. You know the ones that even spit a treat out at them?

Like???? That dog deserves a real fucking person to take care of it and to Spend the Time training it. What the fuck is the point of having a dog if your TV is the one doing bonding activities with it?

It's just for you. The dog's needs are secondary to what you wanted because those needs were inconvenient for you.

AI is no different and the arguments y'all have for it are largely fucking gross.

"I'm too anxious to interact with real people and I'd inconvenience them or something so I'll just use this ai"

Cool so now we're opening up a gate to push care for disabled and mentally ill people off on AI? Cuz you know who Else is seen as too inconvenient to be worth someone else's time?

What the fuck?

And y'all are enabling that "well it's true they would be a bad rp partner."

ITS RP NOT SURGERY WTF ARE YOU EVEN SAYING RN???

Maybe learn some fucking patience? The fuck you mean you'd rather someone talked to fucking AI???

We as a society have FUCKED UP when people are suggesting and enabling AI should deal with people nobody else wants to.

Why doesn't anyone else want to?

Can AI tell you that? Can AI fix that??

The worst part is that AI should be cool. It should be an amazing fucking step forward and instead it's racist and half of y'all act like it's a crutch for having no fucking interpersonal relationships/skills and it's NOT.

I say this as someone who is in fact physically disabled and mentally ill as fuck, okay? I'm not super young either. Like I am, and will continue, to lose my ability to do things and never in a fucking million years will AI be a stand in for a Real Person's talent or skill or help.

Society can't handle taking 30 seconds to put on a mask before they walk out the door and you DONT want me to be upset about all the "helpful" things AI can do?

We wouldn't even need AI if people could afford to go to school or had time to learn to paint or could afford the supplies or had the healthcare to go to therapy or had more people In school to Be therapists or had access to a writing class or-

Hayao Miyazaki was fucking right and more people should be saying it.

“I would never wish to incorporate this technology into my work at all. I strongly feel that this is an insult to life itself.”

AI exists because capitalism's very nature is to exploit humans to our fullest extent. Now capitalism doesn't even fucking need humans to create products. We are the product they use to train our replacements.

And this is.....okay with y'all?

#is it me??? am i the crazy one??? like what the FUCK is going on??? #i am so unhinged about this. like theres a lot of stuff i care about but AI???? AI will be who i find in hell #ai #rant #vent

[grandlinedreams]

Omg, i like the way you wrote Law get treated by reader. So i was wondering if you can have Law in middle of struggle? Like, he was already on his bed but he keep his eyes opened when he was super tired. And he keep thinking dark thought or dream. Maybe at that time, reader was away or came into his room later to comfort him 👀

But if you don't wanna write similar scenario, ignore this ask wink

Hiya!! I'll never turn down a chance to write Law stuff when he gets the comfort he deserves!! I hope this is to your liking, bb!!

[Heads up!: mentions of nightmares/anxiety, set between zhou/wci and wano]

Some days are better than others. There are weeks where he doesn't think of Corazon or his family at all ㅡ and almost thinks he's finally learning to let it go.

And then he catches a glimpse of something ㅡ the feathered collar of his own coat around his neck, patches of his skin that are a shade or two lighter than the rest, a tickle in his throat that won't go away ㅡ and he's drowning again. They seep into his skin, sticky and heavy and dragging him down until he's gone days without sleep because he doesn't want them to follow him into his dreams.

Tonight is one of those nights. Maybe its for the fact he has more people he has to be responsible for the safety of right now, people depending on him to be stable, to have an answer for everything.

And then there's a tiny voice that notes how much colder his bed is right now, absent of another body ㅡ you. It'd been a quiet discussion of you going with the Strawhats to retrieve their cook, mostly because with you tagging along he can trust they won't get into too much trouble ㅡ he hopes, anyways.

But he feels your absence more acutely right now, moving from his bed to his desk and retrieving your vivre card from where he's tucked into a drawer in his desk. It inches slowly and steadily, and he's tempted to follow it instead of continuing on to Wano. But he knows bettet, and he also wonders when exactly he'd gotten so soft.

It's all your fault. You, with your kindness and boundless patience, strong and dependable ㅡ but he can't hate you for it. Could never hate you for it.

Knowing sleep won't come easily and desperate to at least try, his attention turns to the transponder snail on his desk. He listens to the 'purururu', ready to back out the longer it takes ㅡ and then he hears your voice.

"Law?"

"Did I wake you?"

"No," you answer, and he can hear you shift, the creak of wood and distant sound of wind and ocean. "I figured they needed sleep, so I'm taking over watch for right now."

"You need to sleep too," he says, brow knitting, and your laugh in response has butterflies stretching their wings in his stomach.

"Is that why you called? To scold me?" Your tone sobers for a moment. "Everything is okay, right? I didn't think you'd run into trouble after Zhouㅡ"

"Everything is fine," he answers. Truth be told his guests are getting on his nerves a little, but he isn't going to say that. "I just...miss you."

In the brief gap of silence that follows, Law grapples with the sudden fear that he's too much. Too needy after so long of not allowing himself to be. Too demanding.

"I miss you too," comes your soft reply, washing away that burst of fear. "You can't sleep, can you."

It's dangerous that you know him so well even now, but still a comfort. "Maybe," he answers, listening to you sigh.

"Go lay down." When he doesn't answer, you press further. "Just do it, I have an idea." He debates for a moment before he complies, carrying the transponder snail with him.

You listen to the sound of blankets rustling, the creak of the mattress ㅡ and when it stops, you speak. "Close your eyes, and I'll talk. You don't have to sleep, but just listen, okay? Let your body rest."

"It'd be easier if you were here." It's a quiet admission, one that hadn't come without lots of patience and reassurances that you won't disappear on him, won't leave without a fight.

"I know," you answer. "But we'll be back together before you know it." You adjust to get comfortable yourself, watching the pale break of waves on the horizon. And then you begin talking.

It ranges from what's unfolded on the Sunny during your stay (you'll try not to take the Heart Pirates and their brand of natural chaos for granted anymore) to more general observations, then to stories of your childhood.

It doesn't matter what you talk about because when you finally pause, you can only hear the soft cadence of breathing from Law's end rather than the hums and scoffs he'd been answering with. He's asleep ㅡ at least you hope he is, keeping your voice soft as you whisper, "Sweet dreams, Law. I love you."

And you resume your watch, at peace with the sound of waves and the sound of him sleeping.

#ㅡmine. #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered. #–ml: law.

[oops-its-a-fanwork]

Dancing with the pirate boys~🕺💃

I simply think we should dance! Dancing is fun!💕

This pirate au is by @mega-punani and these are just my non-canon headcanons <3 check out their page for more! (she's currently not updating this au but her page is a lovely visit!)

Sans Sooo you know those dances where one person does very little dancing and the other person is pretty much dancing around them, pulling them in? He'd offer one of those dances as a 'haha gotcha now I don't have to do much' kinda thing, but little did he know how you'd turn the tables on him! Oh the shameless flirting as you danced your little heart out! Your fleeting touches as you flutter around him, the looks you give him, the proximity as you pull him close, face to face, only to then pull away for another wide twirl~ He's at the centre of the stage and he cant leave, since he promised you he would do this for you. But oh this man is flustered. He is bright blue. And he simply cannot move his eyes off you. Even years later you can still easily tease him by seductively asking him to dance. He'll get bright blue and flustered again immediately even after your little wink ;) Ah man, you got him good. (The crew definitely teases him about it alllll the time. He just hehehs some more.)

Papyrus Yes yes yes he would love to dance!! Papyrus loves folk dances, ballroom dances, silly dances, tangos, just- anything!! Please ask him to dance! And don't be surprised if he asks you to dance either! He loves the joy of dancing in a group and seeing how invested and/or exited everyone is. Depending on how he's feeling, he can be either 1: a little stiff due to being nervous (maybe dancing in the crow's nest with waves like these wasn't your best idea...), 2: lose and carefree and a bit over enthusiastic (an absolutely joyous occasion or some alcohol may do this) or 3: comfortable, confident and super romantic (and pretty dang good!). He truly sweeps you off your feet in an awesome way! Definitely the type to be chatty during a dance too so he'll absolutely flirt with you while holding you in a dip.

Blue Folk dances hell yeah!!!! He knows a ton of them, is really good at them and is very enthusiastic! You'll have a lovely time with him and the gang, and he somehow knows how to make you feel special dancing with him even though you are also dancing with a ton of others. Maybe it's the way he looks at you? The time after the dance is well spent too: you are warm and tired and he is telling you stories about the dances' origins and the places he's learned them. If you dance for long enough you might actually get a very rare chance to nap with him: two tired and content smiling nerds snoozing on the couch. Slick and strict dances aren't his thing though. He loves the way they look and how romantic they are, but doesn't have the patience to learn and perform them well. He'll sweep you off your feet in a different way!

Stretch Listen honey. He doesn't dance. He plays the music. Important distinction. You can, however, convince him to try when you two are separated from the rest of the crew. You’ll be in a bustling town and evening is falling, and a band softly plays music for a buzzing cafe with terrace. And you may convince him to let you put your hand on his shoulder, to put his hand on your side, to put his left foot here, and his right foot there, then take a step there… and he'll be sweating the entire time, holding his breath until you tell him to breathe, darling. And he'll be stunned at how close you are. And he won't notice that you're dancing so sweetly until the song is over and you ask if you could do that again sometime. And he responds with a soft and flustered "yes" and watches you meld into the crowd to collect some drinks for you both. And he reasons that Yes, he truly might do that again…

Red "Heheh you can give me a lapda-" "No. >:/"

I think it would be difficult to actually get him to properly dance with you. He might entertain you for half a song but then he'll start trying to convince you to leave the dance floor with him. Its just not really his thing, and on top of that he's actually kind of embarrassed about looking like a fool unless inebriated. If you are out dancing he'll definitely brag to everyone and their parents that you're his pretty partner though! In fact, he might start taking you out to dance when the ship is docked just to show you off (and to make sure you have a good time of course). He'll request whatever music you need from the sidelines and watch you go at it. Man he has it good~

Edge You can convince him to take classes with you and hell take them super seriously, but he may have been too self-conscious/busy to start on his own. Learning to dance wasn't really a priority back on his home island and he might care if the others make fun of him for it, especially given his perfectionism. If he can use your request as an excuse to do it though... that'll probably do the trick! He actually really enjoys it: it's structured and beautiful and he can choose to either be in the spotlight with you or in a group where he doesn't stand out. He gets good really really fast too, so unless you are already quite good at it he'll be teaching you soon enough. It's truly a lot of fun and you actually see him smile a lot doing this. Truly a massive win.

Black An absolute show off. He knows how to ballroom dance but would never tell anyone even if asked. Except for you it seems! He puts you two in matching outfits, asks for a dance, and then shows off the fact that he has mad skills for dances like this. If he really wants to show off he might even create a spotlight out of sun or moonlight on the both of you. And to top it all off, he makes you feel absolutely special throughout the whole thing! …You can absolutely use this closeness to fluster him though. He can't escape your flirts while holding you this close >:3c He won't really join in on sillier dances or folk-dances unless challenged to, but his footwork and discipline are amazing so he likely will excel at any structured dance if he's been able to observe it well enough (to everyone's excitement and surprise). Any freestyling he will fail at though.

Cash On the surface he's making it seem far too easy to get him to dance with you. He makes it seem like he's out to get close and steal your stuff while he's there (as if he needs the proximity), but it's mostly a facade to hide how nervous this makes him. Like, genuinely dancing together? That's… vulnerable. Like Stretch, the crew can't be near at all, and honestly even strangers like a band are too much. You can gently persuade him to dance to the tune of a music box or radio you brought. You know you've made a genuine connection when he DOESN'T show you he stole something afterwards, even though he did it right at the start to have an easy way out of the situation. No one wants to dance with a thief, right? He puts it back in your pocket the next morning, and seems much more mellow the following days.

Bear He has a strict 'no partying in the kitchen' rule for obvious reasons, but if you are often hiding in the kitchen for some quiet time and tend to play soft music he might sway subconsciously to it, and if he has some downtime during the cooking process you might be able to persuade him to gently sway with you for a little bit, creating a lovely big blush on his face. Do a little pirouette in his arms and his day is all better. Other than this he doesn't really dance when the occasion arises, but you will find that he is completely focused on you as you dance either a silly little swing or some beautiful dance. He has no jealousy at all seeing you dance with others, mainly because his focus is entirely on you <3

Cinnamon Although complicated choreographed dances are difficult due to his eyesight and general clumsiness, simple slow couples dance can be done just fine! Simply swaying with him will have him comfortable and a little flustered. He would love to enthusiastically dance too but he's worried about hurting you and possibly falling on his face and embarrassing himself. When you do end up slow dancing he often needs to hold himself back from squealing at how cute you are this close, and he needs to resist the urge to suddenly spin you in circles and hug you so close because aaaa cuteness aggression! If you give him express permission to show it you'll end up having a very good time giggling with him, it's super sweet :) Also I am convinced this man can tap dance (or at least is trying to learn to) so if you can convince him to show you his skills you can have a lot of fun together!

#Stretch writes about that first dance in his diary and squeals the entire time #papyrus x reader #sans x reader #undertale au #pirate au #Honestly if u do end up giving anyone a lapdance please pick Bear it's so fucking worth it--- #papyrus au #sans au #homemade fanworks #suggestive #< mainly for the lapdance mentions tbh #I hope the change in writing style between the crew isn't too strange to read? #I just did whatever felt right but they are very different now oops :p #edit: I called Bear Skull bc I've been working on my pokemon horror boy Skull while writing this oops it's fixed now

[heromaker-if]

do you have any other ifs that we can read whilst we wait😭😭🫶🫶

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask and your patience! 🥰

I do have some other IFs that I worked on in the past but I don't recommend playing them (I was still learning how to write at that time, so they aren't great). But if you want some IF reccs, I can recommend some IFs I've read recently.

(Sorry for the tags friends, and for the rants!)

(Released) My all time favourite is The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction - it's just genuinely so good and it always gives me the vibes of one of those shows you watch after dinner, that becomes part of your routine and you want to see desperately what happens after, and the characters become part of your memories, almost like people. It's just UGH such a good IF. If you like nostalgic hometown horrors, this IF is for you.

(Released) Very close favourite is Blood Moon by @barbwritesstuff - WEREWOLVES GUYS!! I've replayed this game so many times. It's one of those games that after you finish, no matter how long of a break you take from it, you always return to it. I love the "found family" of this game, even though it's not really found, it's just... family. I miss them! The romance in this story is also written so beautifully.

(Released) Another fav is The Golden Rose by @anathemafiction - it was one of my favs while it was still in WIP and after it's released I took so long to play it cause I never wanted to finish it. Like, I grew so attached to its story that I didn't want to let it go. 😭 Very well written characters and the descriptions of things, places, feelings, expressions, mannerisms, is so endearing and eye-catching, never a second where I skipped a line, I was CAUGHT. If you like a story with ominous beginnings, middles and ends, this is for you, not to mention the whole religion themes that are so interesting to dive into.

(Released) I miss this one so much but The Soul Stone War by @intimidatingpuffinstudios - there's two books out for this one already and each one is better than the previous. It's fantasy and about powers and there's a dragon lady that you can romance, and the POLY IN THIS IS BEAUTIFUL! Very soulmate-y romance and just generally captivating storytelling.

(Released) Nothing will ever hit the same as The Passenger by @the-passenger-if - there's just something so familiar, so memorable about this story. I don't think in my next lifetime I will ever forget it. It's about an eldritch horror battling with humanity and it's raw primal role as a monster. It feels short but only because you're so into it that time passes you by, but the tone and the flow of this story is very well done (as well as the characters! 🥰).

(WIP) I feel like everyone and their mothers know about Infamous by @infamous-if - but I'm going to talk about it anyways. It's a BAND IF, yes, music, yes, adrenaline, fame, and all the bad decisions that come with it. It's only one chapter out right now, but it's very worth it. I guarantee you the brainrot you will get from this game is going to consume your life.

(WIP) A somewhat popular one as well is Body Count by @bodycountgame - I haven't seen a game do the whole modern reality TV show with a tinge of horrifying brutal horror as well as Nell has, and even though it's still in its early stages, it's very well done and interesting. Lots of ROs to choose from, and genuinely funny humour to laugh about in between the crying sessions of a favourite character dying.

(WIP) Haven't heard that many people talking about this one to be fair but Chop Shop by @losergames - Also a very early stages game, but it's very adrenaline inducing and has so much potential that has me shaking in my seat. I'm already half in love with the cast and I can't wait to go need for speed and play a super chaotic individual.

Also any game by @hpowellsmith, they're amazing at creating consistent well written stories that have such great characters and even better representation. They do it so well, and I've been a fan of them for years now, definitely one of my role models!

I'm sure there are many more IFs out there that you NEED to play/read, but my mind is blank right now, and these are the only ones I could think of. I also don't have as much time to get into an IF, but I'm getting there (thinking of getting into Shepherds of Haven - which you should!)

#WOW THIS WAS LONG #sorry yall #ask #anon #other ifs

[wheres-mylove]

as if!

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Tyrell!Reader

previous part ✩ next part ✩ series masterlist

Part 1: Heart of Stone

Summary: It's just another day of dealing with unpleasant professors, unwanted admirers, and now Aemond Targaryen on top of it. Miss Tyrell welcomes a new housemate. He's quite charming. In his own way. Disclaimer: English isn't my first language! Word count: 3.3k

The skirt's hem swirled around her legs as she spun in front of the grand gilded mirror.

“Just to be sure, how do I look in green?” asked (Y/N), squinting and carefully analyzing her reflection. “Because if not stunning, I’m afraid I can’t leave the house.”

Mr. Tyrell didn't take his gaze off the stack of papers on the table, only murmured approvingly. His daughter placed her hands on her hips. These damned lawyers and their workaholism.

“There wasn't supposed to be any reading of lawsuits at breakfast! You're not even listening to me.”

“You're a rose, dearest. Green and red are your colors,” the man replied, finally looking up and sending her a self-satisfied smile.

(Y/N) shook her head and checked her phone notifications, deftly avoiding unread messages from Arryk Cargyll.

Gods, men and their inability to read the signals.

“What are your plans for the afternoon?” Mr. Tyrell asked suddenly, tapping the table with his pen.

“Coffee date with Baela. Looking pretty and discussing existential problems,” she said, lost in thought about whether to block the pest.

“You have to stay here after you’re finished with your classes. I'm heading to the court, and we'll have a guest,” her father informed, finally earning a bit of her attention.  

“You invited that hot prosecutor chick to our place?” she asked with great enthusiasm, receiving a disapproving look in return. “What? You two would make a good - looking couple.”

“I will just pretend that I didn't hear that. Do you remember Alicent Hightower? Married to Baela’s uncle. The divorce case from around four years ago. Custody battles, side family feuds, property disputes? A very… emotional woman.”

“Alicent, Alicent…. Wait, that beautiful lady who cried so much?” she inquired. Mr. Tyrell nodded. “Ah, I’ve heard that story, she had every right to act the way she did! Stop calling women emotional. So, you're after divorced ones now? Aside from being friends with Bae, I also know Aegon, that's a bit awkward, dad.”

Her father sighed and waved his hand, losing his patience.

“Well, now you'll meet Aemond. I offered him some sort of a collaboration. I have tons of work, I can't keep up. No help from anywhere. An inheritance scorned.” He gave her a meaningful look.

“Lawyers are super boooring. I don't meddle in such shady business.”

“The young man just graduated from Oldtown University and he's really promising. I need someone to handle the responsibility. I also feel a bit obligated to Alicent, she's an old friend of mine, and the trial was, how to phrase it, rather nasty,” Mr. Tyrell continued. “He'll stay with us here for a while. That will make him more available whenever there’s a new task.”

“What now, excuse me? In our house?” She dramatically spread her arms, gesturing to everything around. “How sweet that you're asking for my opinion.”

“Oh, come on, dearest, this house is so big that you could get lost in it. We barely bump into each other. You won't notice he's here. Besides, don't pretend you spend so much time indoors. King's Landing pulls you outside.”

“Who would have thought that you’ll end up as a philanthropist,” she muttered, crossing her arms and plopping down onto a chair with a pout. “Men are nothing but trouble. The vibes won't be the same anymore.”

“If Aemond becomes any trouble for you, you have a lawyer for a father, keep that in mind. Just threaten him.”

“Dad, he's also somewhat capable in that field. Didn’t you call him promising?”

“Yes, but which one of us is a big fish?” Mr Tyrell stood up and patted her shoulder. “Be nice, as nice as you can. Oh, and he'll take a cab from the airport. I'd risk a personal injury case if you were to pick him up.”

Baela got out of the car, clutching her heart with one hand and gripping the door handle tightly with the other.

“This is the last time you gave me a ride!” she exclaimed, to which (Y/N) burst out laughing.

“You're exaggerating, Bae.” She tossed the keys in the air and caught them with the same hand. “There's no better driver in Westeros than me.”

“You're the best at speeding and ignoring road signs, I'll give you that,” her friend said, fixing the mess of curls that the rush of air had created. (Y/N) lightly hit her butt with the textbook she had in her hand. Baela sucked in air indignantly.

She couldn't retaliate because her phone played 7/11 by Beyoncé, signaling an incoming call.

“Jace,” Baela announced softly and picked up the call with a voice that was definitely higher than usual. “Hey, babe, what's up?”

The girl passed her on the stairs, engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. Bae stopped in the uni hall, still on the phone, gesturing that she'd catch up in a moment. There was nothing left to do but sigh in irritation and head to the classroom. This part of the campus was still mostly empty, but it didn't take long until she heard fast footsteps behind her.

“Hey, Miss Tyrell!”

Oh gods, no, not this, please.

Arryk caught up with her and put his arm around her shoulder. (Y/N) forced a fake half-smile and smoothly slipped out of his grip. If he was disappointed by that, he didn't show it. After all, she didn't owe him anything.

As if. Who does he think he is?

“Hey,” she replied dryly, hoping to deter any silly ideas he might have in his head. “I’m waiting for Baela.”

“I'll wait with you then,” he suggested with a hopeful tone. (Y/N) grimaced, desperately looking for someone she could use as an excuse to escape this conversation. “I messaged you yesterday. You probably didn't notice, that’s alright.”

“No, I just didn't have time to reply,” she clarified, finally spotting someone on the horizon who rarely attended that class, so his presence now was almost a miracle. "I have something to discuss with Targaryen. Bye.”

She left Arryk in the middle of the hallway, greeted a few people she recognized from the course, and stood in front of Aegon, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

“A bit hungover?” she asked sweetly, trying not to laugh at the guy who struggled to open his eyes just to look at her.

“Good morning to you too, princess,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples in pain. “If I didn't have to, I wouldn't come here.”

Aegon Targaryen wasn't an exemplary student. He got kicked out of Oldtown University because his academic progress was non-existent. Now he was back in King's Landing. He could've changed his environment, but his love for parties, alcohol and weed remained.

She offered him a bottle of water. Aegon eyed it suspiciously.

“What can you tell me about your brother, Aemond?”

“I knew it wasn't out of kindness,” he grumbled, taking the water. “Don't you have other drinks?"

“He'll be working with my dad,” she explained, ignoring the silly question. “And he'll probably be staying with us. Is he nice?”

Aegon nearly choked on the water he was so eagerly sipping on.

“Oh, honey. My condolences. Take it as an invitation to my dorm in case the Ice Queen won’t let you live. I haven't seen him since I got kicked out, and I can't say I particularly miss him.”

“Elaborate on that,” she demanded, already seeing Baela heading their way. She had impeccable timing, as Professor Borris Baratheon was trailing right behind her.

“If he wasn't my brother, I'd say he's a pretentious dick. But he's my brother, so I won't say that. You’ll let me know how things are when he arrives, yeah?”

“Sure. Thanks, Targaryen.” She shook her head with mild disgust as he tried to hand her back the half-empty bottle. “Keep it.”

“And about that invitation to the dorm…”

“Forget about it.”

(Y/N) Tyrell and Baela Targaryen shared identical expressions as they received their graded assignments. Disappointment mixed with anger. Professor Baratheon continued handing out the papers, unaware of two death glares directed at his back.

“We spent two days in the library writing these pathetic pieces of shit,” Baela grumbled, flipping the stack of papers so she wouldn't have to look at the grade.

“Maybe he can't fucking read,” (Y/N) commented with a frown. She looked around the room and noticed Aegon on the other end, banging his head against the back of Jason Lannister's chair. The latter turned towards her, and raised his hand slightly in a greeting gesture. She reciprocated with a smile and put her paper up as a silent question. He gave her a thumbs-down with a comical grimace. “Looks like everyone did spectacular.”

“Baratheon’s just a bitter old man,” Baela summed up.

“I'm going to argue with him.”

“(Y/N)...” Bae began with a sigh, but her friend already had her hand raised high and was clearing her throat.

Professor Baratheon turned towards her with an expression that indicated he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

“Yes, Miss Tyrell?” he asked wearily.

“What about the extra points for the discussion on intersectionality in Westerosi culture? I don't see that you took it into account, professor,” she said, tapping her nails on the desk.

“If I remember correctly, your statement consisted of praising the influences of Dorne, and I quote, because they have excellent wine, and negating those from the Riverlands, as you don't like the people there.”

“There's something about them that makes them unlikeable, don't you think, professor?”

Baela was still laughing when they both walked out of the glass-walled building together.

“It's not funny, Bae. He has some issues; lately, he's been grading us more severely.” She stopped mid-step, causing her friend to almost bump into her. “Of course. You don't think at all! He has recently divorced his wife. He must be sexually frustrated.”

“He's more likely to get gray hairs from his daughters. Have you seen the state of the place after that party at Cassandra's?”

“We need to find him some pussy. I'm serious. Set him up with someone, and he'll calm the fuck down. I'll analyze the faculty members and choose someone who's perfect for him,” (Y/N) nodded, as if confirming her brilliant idea.

“You're joking.”

“I'm not.”

Baela dropped onto a nearby bench with a groan and gave (Y/N) a skeptical look.

“You can't play matchmaker for the professors!”

“Who's going to stop me?”

“It's going to come back to bite you someday, honey. Less meddling in other people's lives, more interest in your own. Am I seeing things, or is Jason Lannister staring at you more than usual?”

“Don't change the subject; I don't give a damn about Lannister,” (Y/N) snorted, absentmindedly playing with the strap of her pink designer bag. “I wish all men would just leave me alone.”

“Having a boyfriend isn't the worst curse you can bring upon yourself, you know?”

(Y/N) grumbled and sat down next to her friend, resting her head on Baela's shoulder.

“I don't like the fact that you're content with Velaryon, because you deserve better,” she stated after a while, to which Bae chuckled.

“Because you didn't pick him for me? I apologize profusely for not utilizing the services of a matrimonial agency.”

“Oh, come on, hot stuff. You're extraordinary, and you need an extraordinary man.”

“They probably don't make those anymore.”

(Y/N) made a saddened face and snuggled into her friend's jacket.

“It's bordering on controlling behavior how often he calls you. You should dump him,” she mumbled, to which Baela let out a belly laugh.

They both knew that (Y/N) didn't truly hate Jace Velaryon, but it was hard for her to accept the idea that someone so close to her heart might not be getting what she deemed the best.

“I saw you talking to Aegon. I thought we were keeping a strategic distance from my cousin,” Bae began.

“Aemond Targaryen is getting friendly with my dad and is coming to stay at our place.”

“Wait, what?” Baela exclaimed, looking at her with surprise. “And you're telling me about this now?”

“Please, don’t make it worse. That dumbass have already told me to watch out, I'm starting to fear this fucking encounter.”

“Aemond isn't so bad, but he's… Well, one of a kind.” The girl scratched her neck awkwardly, pulled her phone out of her pocket, and began scrolling down the photo gallery. “I think it's best to leave him alone, not get in his way. Oh, and not force him to be a member of society.”

She brought a family pic under (Y/N)'s nose and zoomed in on a tall guy with platinum hair, definitely longer than Aegon's, and a stern expression on his face. One of his eyes glowed with an unnatural sapphire light.

If he's as unbearable as he is handsome, we're going to have a problem.

The sofa in the living room was designed to offer a perfect view of the driveway. (Y/N) took her position at the observation point. Her legs spread out on the armrest, gaze fixed on the window, Baela on the video call.

“Lower the volume on Cher, I can barely hear you,” Bae demanded from the other end of the line.

“How can you say such blasphemy?” (Y/N) scolded her, but obediently reached for the speaker, all while singing out of tune at the top of her lungs. “Emotional fireee, every time I see you, I’m on fire!”

“Gods, I thought you'd have a bigger problem, but honestly, bitch, Aemond might not be able to handle it mentally either. You two might actually kill each other.”

“It won't be that bad, I know how to behave,” the girl retorted. “Plus, he won't stay here forever. Probably just until my dad gets through most urgent cases. Later we will let that man find his own place. His family is rich, Alicent got a shitload of money after the divorce.”

“As she should! But seriously, I believe in you. Do you want me to write you a Get well card for tomorrow?”

(Y/N) Tyrell then noticed a car parking in front of the house. It didn't belong to her father, so it had to be Targaryen arriving.

“Target identified, now approaching. I'll message you later!”

“Good luck, bestie!”

They hung up. She wasn't sure whether to wait for him to ring the doorbell or to go outside. While she pondered, Aemond paid the driver and pulled a large black suitcase from the trunk.

Apparently, someone was ready for an extended stay. And had an aversion to colors of the rainbow.

She wondered how someone could look so good after hours of airplane travel. He was dressed in a black tracksuit, Adidas shoes, hair pulled back into a low bun at the nape of his neck. Life was truly unfair. She shook her head and smoothed out the creases in her green spaghetti strap dress, which cost more than she had told her father. Good thing she didn't change. At least she had the upper hand in terms of clothing.

She opened the door just as the car was driving away, and Aemond was about to ring the doorbell. He raised an eyebrow and scrutinized her with an assessing gaze.

Oh my. He had that down even better than her.

“You're not Mr. Tyrell,” he almost accused. Maybe he was hoping to avoid any interaction beyond what was necessary.

“You're very observant,” she replied before she could bite her tongue. Targaryen raised his chin slightly. Stop, dad told her to be nice. Be nice. “Hi. (Y/N) Tyrell. I'm the daughter.”

“Hmm,” Aemond grunted, still not tearing his gaze away. Baela's photo didn't fully capture his sharp, almost noble features. One eye was prosthetic, a deep sapphire hue.

She realized they had been standing in the doorway for quite some time, locked in a silent staring contest. She stepped back to let him inside.

“Please come in,” she said, forcing a polite tone. He entered the house slowly, one hand holding the suitcase. Bypassed her in the doorway, still maintaining eye contact.

Weird guy. She closed the door behind them and cleared her throat.

“Aemond, right?” she asked after a moment, feeling uneasy about him being so quiet.

“Yes,” he replied in a flat voice, raising his brows as if she had asked him a very dumb question.

Okay, that was nonsensical, but she had to do something about this awkward silence.

“How was your journey?”

“Fine.”

“Dad mentioned that you'll be working together. He speaks very highly of you,” she began, stepping closer and mustering a friendly smile.

“He didn't mention you at all.”

Oh. How courteous. Wonderful!

(Y/N) folded her hands behind her back and nodded, deciding to tap into her previously prepared formula to get this over with.

“You'll be sleeping in one of the guest rooms, upstairs and the first door on the left. There's a bathroom and a walk-in closet inside. My room is in the right wing, also the first door, if you need anything. The cleaning lady comes twice a week, but you can let her know if you don't want her to enter. This is the living room. Further in, there's the dining room and the kitchen. You're welcome to use them as you please. Although dad suggests we have dinner together, it's just an offer.”

She finished her speech with a deep inhale. Aemond had been watching her carefully. She felt her hands getting sweaty. Did he ever blink?

He nodded, the only sign that her words had reached him, since he hadn't said a single word yet.

As Aegon called him, what was that? The Ice Queen? It suited him. She thought he would go to his room and free her from his presence, but he continued to stand still.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked uncertainly, not sure what to do with him.

“A glass of tonic, if it's not a problem,” he said, finally tearing his gaze away and sweeping it around the living room.

“No problem at all! You can take the time to bring your luggage upstairs. Unless you need help?”

Aemond first looked at his suitcase, then at her with a sour expression. Maybe his ego would suffer if a girl helped him with something heavy.

“No.”

She took some relief in that. At least she could escape him, even if only for a moment. She deliberately took her time looking for a glass, then wiping it clean, and pouring him some Schweppes that was stocked in the fridge.

Let that asshole wait.

She found him in the living room, casually leaning against the wall and examining her copy of The Lady of the Camellias. She had left it on the small table next to the couch, so he must have picked it up.

She clenched her fingers around the glass, suddenly infuriated that he was going through her stuff.

“Yours?” he asked, and she could swear on every Italian fashion house that she saw a hint of a pleased smirk on his face.

“Yes, I read it at night when I can't fall asleep. That's some serious sleep-inducing boredom,” she retorted in a nearly defensive tone, though she already knew what he had found inside.

“Quite a lot of annotations for someone who finds Dumas boring,” Aemond replied, his tone filled with smugness.

The steam was almost coming out of her ears. He enters her house and pushes his way into the realm she considered private.

Nobody was allowed to read that. Her thoughts, hers only.

She took a few quick steps toward him, snatched the book from his hand, and put a glass in there instead.

“Here.”

He didn't thank her, or maybe she didn't hear it because she walked away in a hurry.

She hoped that Aemond Targaryen would stay away from her belongings. Stay away from her books, her life and the first room in the right wing.

Taglist: @wintrr13

Please let me know if you wish to be added or removed!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader

[bruciemilf]

ACTUALLY, you guys WILL listen to my Bruce & Officer Martinez brain rot because they have Peak " grumpy sunshine " and " asshole sunshine" dynamic and I'm not letting it go

Here's the thing about Jim Gordon; He has patience; He has tact. But he's also a petty shit, and God almighty, he WARNED Batman to stop his solo crime busting for extra dangerous cases

So yes; He gestures to Martinez, sugar cream on his moustache, files overfilling his arms. He tries to wave. They fall everywhere. ''This is your divine punishment "

"... Did you really just refer to Martinez as a punishment?"

" Honestly, I'm just happy to be included!"

Martinez is still SUPER sketchy about Batman, but of course he freaks out in the Batmobile; Yes, it's from the back-seat, but it still MATTERS, - " You know, my aunt is actually a mechanic, and-"

And that's the second thing Bruce writes about him in his profile journal; First thing being 'Talks too much.' Second is Family man.

But he actually listens to everything because it's comforting to know Gotham allows some love to survive.

And Bruce REFERENCES all stories. When they investigate different sources he's like " This is a professional dismemberment. We should ask your brother's opinion"

" My brother?" " I'd ask mine, but I don't have one." " No asshole I mean - you know my brother's a surgeon? You listen to me?" " I always listen."

FIGHTING OVER THE RADIO! GIVE IT TO ME! BECAUSE YOU JUST KNOWWWW BRUCE PLAYS THREE DAYS GRACE AND SKILLET AND MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

" you listen to this shit??? Unironically?? THIS is REAL music" and then-

" GIMME GIMME GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT-"

And also a ton of Nicki Minaj. " PULL UP IN THE MONSTER AUTOMOBILE GANGSTA-"

Bruce almost rearranges his whole skeleton right there; Martinez eventually figures out that it's Bruce's special interest so he apologises, " I'm sorry I called you out on your terrible taste. We can listen to that Bridge song or whatever"

*shaking with rage* " It's. Not. Called. That."

Literally give me Martinez whining Bruce's ear off until they reach a drive through, and Bruce is just standing there like a STATUE

Martinez leveled up to front seats and is rubbing his hands together like a greedy gremlin, but Bruce does Not move. " Welcome to Bat Burger can I take your order? Hello?" And Bruce is just. Petrified

" Can I had- have, can I - um,"

" what was that?"

" ... Burger"

He pins Martinez face to headboard and makes him SWEAR he won't tell anyone about it but Martinez is too busy laughing his ass off

Martinez always talking about Bruce, - He gave my sister a job as a security guard after she got out of prison. Murdering her rapist, you know how it is

"... I don't, actually." " Well yeah, you grew up in the good part of town, probably" "There's no good part. Only good coincidences."

"... Oh yeah, you're DEFINETLY rich."

Martinez and Selina strangers to enemies, 500k words, slow burn.

Martinez is a dog boy and she's a cat girl. It was expected. She kicks his seat in the Batmobile and he readjusts his chair as LOW as possible just to annoy her

" Crazy cat lady KNOWS something. "

" Don't call her that."

" I don't have to, her smell does it for me, - wait. Are you... Are you HOT for her? SERIOUSLY?"

And so what if Bruce's fast feels hot under his cowl? " Now's not really the time for a jealous scene."

" Oh I'M not jealous, bro. She's in your pants, I'm your emergency contact and organ donor. We aren't even in the same highway."

" ...When did you do that?"

" We don't have time to talk about all that-"

Martinez super casually mentioning he knows Bruce's identity. " Thanks for your help, Mr. Wayne"

[SHOCKED SILENCE]

" How... How did you?"

" BRO. I'd know that jawline in death."

#bruce wayne #batman #the batman #batman 2022 #officer martinez #jim gordon #selina kyle #dc comics #dc #dcu #battinson #text #text post #headcanons #REBLOG THIS #(please)

[tqmies]

hiiii! may i request for an nsfw kai x reader f2l with prompt 13 and/or 16? 🙏🙏🙏

Touch | Hueningkai

Part of Tqmies 1K Event!

NSFW , friends to lovers, 16. “Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” wc: 1.01k warnings: sub!hyuka, whining, hand job note: on my hyuka agenda rn !! thank you for requesting :D picked 16 for this one because it felt like it worked better & remember as always, MDNI

"Can you help me with something?" You spoke absentmindedly, Kai looking up from his phone.

"Sure?" He agrees, though he doesn't expect you to hand him a bottle of lotion. And he's even more confused when you start taking your shirt off, the tips of his ears growing bright red, he hopes you don't notice.

You don't though, seemingly by how you have no reaction to him, though he's still really lost. Not that he's mad though, who wouldn't want their crush standing shirtless in front of them?

Even if said crush was his best friend, who was strictly off limits?

He was just a man after all. Eh, he's going to let himself look, even if he felt slightly guilty eyeing you up like this. "What's going on?"

You shrug, "My back hurts, I could use a massage."

He fumbles with his hands, looking down. "And what's the lotion for?"

"So it can go smoother." You quip, taken about by Hueningkai's sudden confusion, but he's normally like this. "I've been super stressed with work, so you're doing me a solid."

He was going to have to touch you? While you were shirtless? Several alarm bells and warning signs were ringing in his poor little head, what if he couldn't help himself? What if he ruined your friendship? What if you hated him forever and threw him out of your house right now?

"Hyuka." You interrupt his thoughts, touching his thighs. When did your hands get there? He's two seconds away from exploding. "Open your legs so I can sit between them."

It just kept getting worse, and he swore his patience was running out. "O-okay." He nods, moving like you asked and you plop right between his mysteriously muscular thighs? Had he been working out, and more so, how had you not noticed?

You straighten yourself, before reaching behind you. "Lotion."

He just hands it to you wordlessly, and you grab his hand from your side, pumping it into his palm. The thick white liquid covering his hand and he can't help but feel flushed at the action.

"Go ahead," You smile, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his lap.

Behind you, the males flustered as his hands begin to hesitantly work your shoulders. You sigh in content and he takes that as a good sign as he continues to lightly press on the area.

And true to his thoughts, you felt his hands were working little less than actual magic. You felt better already, and it had been two minutes. Meanwhile, he was anything but relaxed. In fact, with how tense his shoulders felt, he figured he could give you a run for your money.

He keeps his composure though, falling into a sense of normalacy with an otherwise intimate action.

Then you start whimpering.

They're low at first, small noises falling past your flush lips as hes thanking every star above that you can't see his face.

"Feels so good." You slur out, tilting your head back in pure bliss.

Hueningkai thinks he might die.

You groan out once again, tone high. "You're doing so well."

Hueningkai moves his hands off, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

"Why'd you stop?" You pout, looking behind you.

Because! He thinks. If I have to sit here listening to you make those noises, I'm for sure going to pop a boner! Also I have the fattest crush on you and think of you in a way friends never should.

But he can't say that. So he opts for crossing his arms. "Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.”

“Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” You reply, embarrassed as you rub the back of your neck.

“I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.”

"It's okay." You nod as he places his hands on your back again. "I'll take whatever you give me."

Goodness, would you stop with the innuendos?! You're making it really hard to hold back!

"Hold back?" You ask, a smirk growing on your face.

Had he said that out loud?

"Oh- um, I just meant-" He stammers looking for an excuse, for any way to cover this up.

You turn to face him, hands placed on both his thighs as you watch his face go pale. "Meant what?"

He winces as you lean in. The words slip out under your hardening gaze. "Hold back.. all the things I want to do with you."

"Really?" You tease. "Like what?"

And he notices the way your hands trail up his thighs, your palm pressing onto his clothed hard-on as he thrashes to your touch.

"W-well, want to touch you." He admits.

"Like how I'm touching you?"

"More," He breathes heavily. "Want you to use me."

"Use you?!" You ask, fake gasping as you pretend to be scandalized. Your words not matching your actions as you tug his sweatpants down.

"What're you doing-"

"Keep talking or I'll stop."

"Fuck," He whimpers as you free his hard cock from is confines. Barely enough so the fat head can protrude out. "Wanted this for so long."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm, yes." He nods his head, tears forming in his eyes as you rub your thumb over the slit on his dick. "Want you to do what you want to me. Want to be on my knees for you everyday. Want to fuck until our legs are sore."

"Poor baby," You shake your head. "You say you wanted this but I've been waiting for so long. I'm here throwing myself at you and yet no response, I had to make the first move. You've been so oblivious this whole time."

"I'm sorry!" He throws his head back as you continue to move your hand up and down his shaft. He's pretty incoherent as he can feel drool pooling from his mouth, your vice grip being the only thing on his mind. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh I know you will."

#tqmies 1k event! #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt #hueningkai #huening txt #txt x reader #txt smut #txt smuts #txt drabbles #txt hard thoughts #hueningkai x reader #txt fic #txt fanfic #hueningkai smut

[the-six-that-thrive-if]

PLANS FOR 2024!!

IT IS A BRAND NEW YEAR!! WITH SO MUCH TO DO!!

In truth, I'm unsure of what I want to do for 2024. I'm not a good plan in advance and far more of a "this'll be fun to do" type of person. Especially when it comes to writing. So I am going to share what I want to do in the moment and my current feelings.

One Thing: I hate The Six That Thrive.

That is the ultimate looming threat, I'm facing, and want to put this out there, not because I'm going to scrape TSTT. I simply want to make it better. Working on other IFs has just made me realize how much I could add especially seeing that TSTT is my first ever IF, and if you were there when I first began, it was an utter mess.

Chapter Six has been in production, but I cannot work on it with a clear conscience, knowing how much I hate the previous chapters, and if I cannot somewhat like the old, I can't move forward. So as of right now, I think I am going to go on hiatus.

So now, you might ask. "What about the Patreon?" The Patreon is a mix of those who want TSTT content and mainly that, while others are down for supporting me in general. I am still going to be posting TSTT content. Sharing fics, drabbles, backstories. I may as well drop new and improved chapters.

So, what will I do in the meantime? As ridiculous as I am, I'm going to be posting new demos for unreleased IFs. Mainly to have the option to jump around and not feel guilty for it. I've realized that I've been sorta holding myself back from doing the things I enjoy in fear of what others felt and thought as well with overworking myself. But I am coming to realize what is best for me as a writer and it's the ability to write when and wherever. So I've planned to move forward without feeling guilt.

Things I've been facing and fear for the future. The amount of access everyone has to me. As in a sense online and how easy it is to reach out to me. For one, I'm not upset or bothered by those reaching out and haven't received harassment or hate. But there are subtle demands from strangers that I have noticed and simply expect me to do, because I want to be super inclusive. Which is a huge difference from suggestions and asking kindly. They just demand it, and I'm still learning to regulate it.

With School. Right now, I'm fantastic at balancing school and work, simply because most of the chapters I've wrote and write happen in a large chunk so that's not something I'm worried about. I also don't got a job so there's that.

ON MORE POSITIVE NOTES:

—The Dragon's birthday past. Jan 1st. Now when they get a little drabble, idfk.

The One Year Anniversary of TSTT is a day before my birthday so that's also exciting!

I turn 19 next month!! (Which I feel a lot of people are unaware of.)

More IFs! More genres! I have a pretty much horror track record, that's definitely ain't gonna change, but with my future IF that I plan to share hopefully by the end of this month, I'm EXCITED.

FINAL NOTES:

I truly don't know what I have in store for 2024! But I do want to make the best of it. As always, I want to thank you for your neverending support and patience and I'm excited to share this year with you all!! Please do not worry about my mental or physical health, I swear, that I am an 100 out of 10.

#t.m.basement.announcements

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 29

First / Previous / Next

Fen and Zhe went back up to the command deck to watch the approach. Northern placed the view out of some forward cameras on the screen and what struck Fen the first time she saw it was just how ramshackle the station was. It appeared to be made out of more than a dozen old starship hulls.

"Is that.. made out of junk starships?"

"It appears that way Fen, but I'm not sure if they're junk or not. I can see a lot of reactors when I scan for emissions. It could be that they're just all connected together and can break apart when threatened." Northern sounded fascinated. "It's a good idea, really. If you're worried about some administrative forces kicking you out, you just break up your station and link away to somewhere else. Fen, Zhe? This is going to be a while. I was just told we have to wait for a place for us to park. Why don't you two go get some rest. I'll wake you if anything comes up."

Back in her room, Fen lays on the bed. It's large and cold and smells unfamiliar. The sheets are wrong, the light in the room is wrong, the mattress is wrong, the whole place feels wrong. She had been doing well enough until she talked to Zhe about Ma-ren and she feels alone in the bed all over again. Tossing and turning, Fen struggles to sleep. Finally sleep comes.

Fen dreams.

She's sitting on a large, seat, a throne really at the top of what could only be described as an... arena. Every single seat is filled with people who are there to see her. She can feel their excitement radiate off. They aren't coerced, they aren't forced, they are all there willingly.

To see her.

Or are they?

She holds out her hand for silence, only it's not her hand. The skin tone is wrong, lighter. She spreads her arms wide to welcome the crowd, but the length feels wrong. Glancing down quickly, she sees that she's shorter than she expected, even with the high heels. High heels? Fen hates wearing heels; they're so wobbly. Her body isn't quite right either, she feels top heavy. The crowd is so far away, that they haven't noticed anything yet, but the people next to her have. One of them, a women, about her size with a kind face looks over, her brow furrowed in concern. Fen feels an overwhelming desire to comfort her, let her know everything is all right, even though it clearly isn't. "I'm fine." she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. "Just jitters or something."

The other women nods very slightly and turns back to the crowd, not convinced, but unwilling to disturb the ceremony.

"People of the Reach! I come before you to tell you of news. Our battles go well, and we have captured the inner planets! Venus, Luna and the LEO principalities have all agreed to a peace plan." Cheers and shouts of praise. She basks in their love, buoyed by their positivity. "I myself will be departing for the attack on Earth. I will personally lead the charge. Soon, I shall return to you with the exciting news of our victory!" More cheering. "Until then, I ask for your patience and understanding, and I ask for more volunteers. We have three more Super Dreadnoughts that have been completed, and they need crews. Please, come to the recruitment office and sign up. Everyone who crews my ships will be eligible for relocation to any planet, station, starbase, and orbital of their choosing after our victory."

She stands during the cheering and applause at this last announcement, and concentrates. Her wings, made of gossamer, focused, golden light spread meters wide. Her crown, made of the same light flares in the arena, visible to everyone. Through the cheering and chanting of her name, she turns, leaves the dias and her wings and crown fade into an afterimage on everyone's eyes.

Behind the dias, a hidden door opens, and she ducks through, with the two people - including the woman from before - on either side.

"Now that we're out of the crowd, what was that? You looked like you were going to throw up." She sounds worried.

"Yeah, I saw you wobble. You looked down at your shoes and blanched." The other one, a middle aged man chimes in. He is tall and handsome, with dark brown skin and a coal black beard, flecked with gray.

"I'm fine, I'm... fine." She sounds unsure even as she says it. "I just had a strange feeling of being not myself. It's passed now. She turned towards the woman. Do you have the report of the developments on Luna?"

"Yes, Empress. Luna is pacified. Your military has cleared you for a visit to the people as soon as you enter the system. They recommend that you show up, give a speech, do a quick meet-and-greet with the citizens, and then continue on to Earth. Myself, Omar and a small guard will accompany you."

"Thank you Ava. I need a coffee, and then we can depart."

Fen awoke with a start, dripping with sweat. She was laying in bed, all of her sheets and blankets a tangle. There was a soft chime that was repeating in the room. "Yes?"

"We're going to dock in a couple hours Fen. I figured you would want to shower and change."

"Thanks Northern. How long has it been?"

"About nine hours. I let you sleep a full cycle; you seemed like you needed it."

Fen sits up. "Okay Northern. I'll be up in a few."

Fen gets up and pads to the bathroom. Being the captain, she does have a larger suite than average, and it has its own bathroom. As the door behind her shuts, she does not notice the sheets and blankets are covered in a very slight layer of dust, arranged like wings, centering on where she slept.

****

The docking goes without a hitch. They are brought inside the cargo module of a massive starship on the outer edge of the 'station' and are directed to a pad near the door. They land, and as the ship powers down, Northern walks into the command deck, shaking her hair with her hands and making a face. "My mouth tastes like pennies. I hate this." She puts her hands on her hips and faces Fen. "You're going to find us enough crew - or another AI - to do this, right?"

"Yes Northern. We'll find a crew. I can't thank you enough for this, I realize that its... distasteful for you."

Northern smirks. "I see what you did there. I'll have you know that puns always work on me." She nods at Zhe. "Come on. Shall we go meet your family?"

Zhe nods and stands, but her ears are flat, and she's trying to shrink down into her clothes. "O-okay Northern, Fen. Let's go."

"Hold up a moment." Fen turns to Zhe. "Are you going to be all right with this?"

Zhe stands just a little straighter. "Yes, I'll be all right Fen. You're my captain now. It's just that my family was... disappointed when I got the job with the Discoverers and went to Minaren."

"They're disappointed you went straight?" Northern's incredulity is plain on her face.

Zhe's tail swishes and she nods. "You'll see when you meet them."

The dock's air is cold and thin, but breathable. The three of them exit the ship and head towards the airlock at the other end. They walk past scores of K'laxi and other peoples tending the ships that are docked. There are easily more than a dozen in this dock alone. Fen recognizes K'laxi, Gren, and even some Sefigan designs. They step into the airlock and it closes behind them. "So, you three are the ones ballsy enough to come here in a Imperial Frigate and sing the bawdiest K'laxi drinking song known in order to get in?" The voice is low and gruff. "We've scanned your ship, it's empty, so we know you're not hiding anyone, and you don't walk like spies, though you have the air of a Discoverer about you, K'laxi." The voice pauses a moment. "Still, we'll let you in. Stay nice and don't cause trouble."

The other airlock door opens, and the air is hot and wet. The K'laxi homeworld is smaller and colder than Earth, so Fen expected the atmosphere settings to be similar here but if there was such a thing as an opposite to K'laxi weather, this was it. The lights were dark and yellow and the gravity was light. Fen kept feeling like she was about to trip. A short K'laxi, grey around the muzzle, with a human sized battle rifle on his back waves and bounds - literally bounds - over. "Welcome! Welcome to The Heap."

Northern grins. "The Heap because it's a heap of starships?"

He nods quickly, the earrings on his large ears jangling slowly in the low gravity. "Exactly so. What are you here for? Trade? Business? Or just to lie low from the Imps since you clearly stole their frigate?"

Fen crosses her arms and harrumphs. "I'll have you know I own that frigate free and clear. You can scan it anywhere and it'll show up under my name."

He winks - a decidedly human gesture. "Sure it does, Friend. I know hackers too. So? What's up?"

Zhe sighs. "Hi there Uncle Rev. Is Hemmi here?"

Rev leans around Northern and gasps. "Little Zhe! You came back! You finally realized that the government yolk was strangling your ability to pull for yourself!" He grabbed her and hugged her mightily and spun her around. "Hemmi isn't here now, but he's in-system. I'll get a beacon out to him right away. He'll want to know the news. Why didn't you tell us you were aboard? He would have stayed for the welcome."

"I didn't want to be a burden..." Zhe begins.

"Nonsense! I will not hear of it." Rev looks over at Northern and Fen. "Shacking up with two humans? My my! You're doing all right for yourself. I knew you couldn't keep your true self down."

"Uncle Rev!" Zhe's fur ripples as she blushes. "Northern and Fen are friends only. Fen is my captain."

"Well then I need to extend our thanks," Rev bends low and Fen sees that his tail is half gone. "Have you had a chance to witness Zhe in combat yet? She is unparalleled with a Gren soar-kinfe." He puts his arm around Northern and Fen and gives them a small squeeze and Northern glares. "Did you know she once took out three Sefigan warriors who thought they could bounce out of here without paying? Three! She was barely sixteen at the time. Her parents were so proud. They let her keep the entire bounty. I think that's how she paid her passage to Minaren."

Northern turns her head slowly to Zhe as her fur won't stop rippling. "A soar-knife? They're hard to use even in light gravity. in Human standard they take years of practice to wield safely."

"Well when you're a kid on a pirate station you get bored and pick stuff up." Zhe mumbles.

"So modest!" Rev squeezes their hips again and Northern smacks his arm off. "Come on! Let's go eat while we wait for Hemmi to come back.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray