#am I secretly in prison?

[w1lmutt]

Head full brain overworked I'm thinking about the flesh in ln2 again

#specifically what the heck it is #and from what i can gather. it. might not be from their dimension??? #reality/dimension warping is kinda what i feel like is the theme w the flesh #especially with how the signal tower doors and the tvs function the same #and both requires traveling through flesh walls. as seen when we first travel through the tv in pale city #and the whole signal tower is secretly flesh #you end up in an endless room whenever you hit the music box. and in the ending you end up on a endless flesh floor till you find the chair #and!! that flesh prison transforms into a room #suggesting it's not exactly real but also when we were chased before the walls started breaking w the flesh coming out... #aughh my brain #idk i am just fascinated with the signal tower mono thin man and the tvs and how they all intersect #i feel like a smarter me would be able to make a more comprehensive thought on what the purpose of the flesh and the signal tower is #little nightmares 2

[fishdetective]

it is with utter relief that I have canceled all my five million daily job alert emails

#thumbs up from where i am slumped on the ground #submitted my info for background check for New Job and the whole time i was like oh my god what if actually im secretly in prison right now #evan essence

[juniperskye]

Who Are You Again?

Based on the following ask: I had another plot thought! Aaron x BAU Reader (female or gender neutral) where Reader disobeys an order to save a victim and gets hurt really bad. Reader wakes up in the hospital to Aaron who is angry at first but then is shocked when it turns out that Reader has retrograde amnesia from the injury. Reader has forgotten their entire career in the BAU and even that They and Aaron were secretly dating! Last thing Reader actually remembers was attending a lecture in college where Aaron was a guest speaker and Reader developed a crush on him! Now Aaron has to carefully navigate helping Reader recover without outing their relationship to anyone else. Or maybe he wonders if it's better they forget? But for a HEA ending definitely Aaron doing something romantic sparks a memory and helps everything come flooding back. @nyxwolph thank you for requesting again and trusting me with your ideas! – I did have to change things up a bit (I struggled big time with this one)

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5336

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap, some language, BAU canon typical violence, mention of parent death, mention of kidnapping, mention of Haley and Jack, secret relationship, let me know if I missed any!!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions in which a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state.” Essentially, something as small as a butterfly flapping its wings could cause something as catastrophic as a tornado.  

Aaron wondered what small event happened that led to this moment right now. A moment that would change the trajectory of your lives forever.

*36 hours earlier*

“Garcia has the unsubs location; he’s headed down a backroad just east of the 95.” Aaron said.

“He’s devolving, he’s probably going to try and dispose of his latest victim.” Morgan chimed in.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” JJ replied.

“His location is being shared with you all, everyone be safe, at this point he’s going to be willing to do anything to avoid prison.” Hotch added.

“I’m close by, I am going to go try and cut him off.” You suggested.

The team expressed their worry and care and urged you to be careful. The only thing you had on your mind, however, was saving the five-year-old boy this unsub had hidden. You drove as fast as your vehicle would allow, you had to get to the unsub. You had to save that boy.

As you got closer to the location Garcia had shared, you could see the dust trail the unsubs car was leaving down the road. You thought about your options, and you made a snap decision. Drive on, no matter the consequences – take out the unsub’s car. So that’s what you did.

You drove forward and your car t-boned the unsubs, only you hadn’t considered that he’d be driving a semi tractor. Upon impact, your SUV was crushed, in your rush to get to the unsub you’d forgotten to put on your seatbelt and your body was ejected through the windshield.

The accident was enough to stop the unsub long enough for the team to arrive. As they surveyed the scene, Aaron’s stomach dropped. He immediately began barking orders, demanding medics, and sending agents to the unsubs’ farm to find the boy.  Throughout everything he refused to leave your side.

*Present Day*

“Sir, we had to place her in a medically induced coma to allow the swelling in her brain to go down.” The doctor explained.

“Is there an estimate as to how long it’ll be until she wakes up?” Aaron asked.

“With these kinds of injuries, it’s hard to say. The brain is a tricky thing, and no two injuries are alike. We just have to wait and see.”

“Thank you.” Aaron said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

Your doctor made her exit and Aaron moved to the seat beside your bed. He gently took your hand in his own placing a kiss to the back of it before returning it to your side. Aaron had thought back to the night everything changed.

*One year earlier*

“Hey Hotch, here’s that report you asked for. You aren’t staying are you?” You asked, glancing at your watch.

“Thanks, and yeah I had a few things I needed to finish up.”

You made your way over to Aaron’s couch, dropped your bag to the floor, and shrugged your jacket off. You pulled your phone out to see what was still open for delivery in the area. Aaron and you had shared many nights like this, spending late nights together in his office. The two of you had grown very close over the years, so much so that David had outright asked Aaron if you two were dating. To which Aaron let out an awkward chuckle and denied the accusation. If only he knew.

“What are you doing? You should head home.” Aaron said.

“Well, you should too, and you aren’t, so I guess that means we’re ordering dinner.” You smiled at him.

“I love you.” Aaron said simply.

“What?” You were stunned.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I didn’t – I um….”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron made his way over to you, gently caressed your face and kissed you. It was everything you had ever imagined. There had been this tension between the two of you over the last two years and it was all finally coming together.

After that night, Aaron and you had agreed to keep your relationship under wraps, to avoid any potential disruption to the team, but also any question as to your position on the team. Aaron didn’t want anyone to question the fact that it was your skills and resume alone that got you to where you are.

Yours and Aaron’s relationship blossomed after that night, but not without hardships. Aaron and you faced a lot of adversity in multiple aspects of your relationship; you had a hard time trusting people, Aaron had been self-conscious of your age gap, and you both couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t good enough for the other (not that either of you would bring it up).

*Present Day*

A tear fell from Aaron’s eye, he couldn’t fathom losing you. This was all part of the reason he didn’t want to get serious with someone after Haley, but then you came into his life. You’d come in and made yourself known with your kind eyes and witty charm; how could he not fall in love with you.

Aaron fell for you slowly then all at once, it came naturally, and he couldn’t help it. He knew that the team had their suspicions and honestly over the last year there had been some close calls, but you had ultimately maintained the secrecy of your relationship.

In this moment, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt and regret over the fact that he’d asked you to keep things quiet. Had he let the team in on your relationship, he could’ve done a better job at keeping you safe.

*2 Weeks Later*

Aaron had been by your side as much as possible over the last two weeks, which is exactly where he was when you started to stir. Aaron shot straight up in his seat, his hand quickly reaching for your own.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped your throat, your body hurt so bad, and you felt very confused. You attempted to open your eyes but immediately regretted it – the bright fluorescents adding to the pounding in your head. As you blinked through the brightness of the room, you glanced over to your bedside, noticing a tall man seated there.

“What on earth were you thinking? Driving into the unsub like that, you could’ve been killed. Your actions were reckless and unacceptable.” The man scolded you.

You couldn’t find it in you to reply, your head was pounding. You brought your hand up to your forehead and gently press the heel of your palm into it, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Sweetheart hold on, I’ll go get your doctor.” A deep voice sounded from your bedside.

Before you could question the pet name, you heard the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the linoleum floors.

The man returned with your doctor; he dimmed the lights slightly on his way back to your bedside. He moved to grab your hand again, to which you shifted, wringing your hands nervously in your lap.

“Hello, I’m doctor Raynor. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck, what happened?” You questioned, giving your doctor and the man a once over.

You recognized the man; it was Special Agent Hotchner of the BAU. What was he doing here? What happened?

“Well, you were involved in an accident, can you tell me what you remember?” Dr. Raynor inquired.

“I um, well, I was leaving a lecture.” Your gaze shifted to Agent Hotchner “Your lecture actually, you were talking about MO’s. I guess the accident was after that?” You couldn’t help but notice Agent Hotchner’s expression faulter.

Your doctor looked over at Agent Hotchner and he shook his head. The two of them seemingly knew something you didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just given the wrong answer in front of the class. Dr. Raynor had gone through the rest of your injuries with you, multiple lacerations that had required stitches, a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and of course your TBI. Once she was done she gave you a somber look.

“Would you excuse us for just a moment? I am going to send in one of your nurses to check you over and I’ll be back in just a moment.” Dr. Raynor said.

“Oh, okay.”

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner left your room, and you tried your best to listen to their conversation.

*Hotch’s POV*

She doesn’t remember me, well us. It’s like the last five years have just disappeared.

“Agent Hotchner, I gather that the lecture she’s referring to did not occur two weeks ago when she was brought in.”

“No, that lecture was nearly five years ago.” I explained.

“This would be a case of retrograde amnesia, if she’s lost recent memories.” Dr. Raynor replied.

“Will her memory return?”

“It’s hard to say.”

While Aaron was completely devastated, he couldn’t help the doubt that creeped into his mind, telling him “This is for the best”.

*Normal POV*

Dr. Raynor and Agent Hotchner looked extremely serious, and you started to feel nauseous. Something was obviously wrong. You watched as their conversation ceased and they made their way back into the room.

Something must have happened, why would Agent Hotchner be here.

“Alright, it would appear that due to the brain trauma you sustained in your accident, you are experiencing what we describe as retrograde amnesia. This is when you can’t recall memories from your past. Based on your most recent memory, it appears as if you’ve lost approximately five years.” Dr. Raynor explained.

“Five years? Five years of memories are just gone. I don’t understand. If that’s true then why are you here?” You asked gesturing to Agent Hotchner.

“Well, you work for the BAU. You have for about three years now.”

“I do? I – I, this is a lot. What does this mean? Have you called my emergency contact?” You asked.

“I uh – I am your emergency contact.” Agent Hotchner spoke up.

“What, why? It has always been my mom, I don’t understand.”

“I’m so sorry, your mom, she uh – she passed last year. That’s when you switched it over to me.” Agent Hotchner’s gaze shifted down to his shoes.

“She’s gone?” Your voice cracked.

“Okay, this has been quite a bit of information. The most important thing right now is getting healthy. We want to keep you here a little longer to continue monitoring the swelling in your brain. Once we’ve confirmed it has gone down, you’ll want to get back in your usual routine, that is the best shot at getting your memory back.” Dr. Raynor gently patted your leg.

“How am I meant to get back to my normal routine when I don’t know it? The one person I had, I just found out is dead.”

“Given that Agent Hotchner is your emergency contact, we would be able to release you into his care. For now, we just need to stay positive.” With that, Dr. Raynor made her exit.

“I know this is a lot, but the BAU, we’re like a family, that includes you. Each member of the team is going to be willing to do anything to help you throughout this process.” Agent Hotchner said.

Part of you knew you could trust him; he had kind eyes, and you knew he was genuine. However, the other part of you felt so hopeless, like a lost kid in a department store. How were you meant to go home with this man who you didn’t know.

*Five Days Later*

“Do you have everything?” Aaron asked.

He had been with you every day for the last five days. He had brought you some things from your apartment and asked you to call him Aaron for now while you were “getting to know him”. You had to admit, it had been pretty nice talking with him the last few days.

“I think so!” You looked over at him. “I know that I am meant to be staying with you, at least until I’m fully healed, but could we go to my apartment first? I’d like to see it and maybe go through some of my things?”

“Of course we can.” Aaron nodded, gesturing towards the door.

The drive to your place was filled with small talk, mostly you asking Aaron questions about the BAU and the time you’ve spent there. It felt weird asking the man who is technically your boss about your personal life.

When you arrived, Aaron made sure to open your door for you and carry your bag into your home. He led you inside and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he seemed in your place, like he’d been there before. Like he belonged there. You shook the thought from your mind.

“I got you a new phone, it’s all set up for you.” Aaron said handing you the device.

“Thanks! Were they able to back up the old one? I was hoping to go through old texts and pictures to gather some insight into my life. God that sounds weird.” You huffed out a breath.

“I have our technical analyst Penelope Garcia working on that for you.” Aaron informed you.

“That’s great, thank you.”

The truth was, Aaron didn’t have Garcia backing up your old phone, at least not yet. He knew that if he had brought it to her she would uncover all the private texts and photos that you two had shared over the last year. He didn’t want to risk everyone finding out about your relationship, especially now when he wasn’t sure what your future would hold.

Aaron watched you as you made your way around your apartment. You wandered slowly around letting your fingers graze the spines of books on your shelves, picture frames on the walls and tchotchkes that were strewn about your desk and shelves. 

He so badly wanted to pull you into his arms, kiss your head and tell you that everything was going to be okay. He wanted you to know that he wasn’t just your boss. But he also thought about all the things that could go wrong if he told you. You could question your own ethics and fall into self-loathing with the thought that you’d potentially slept your way to the top – this was the furthest thing from the truth, but he knew you and the way your mind spiraled. He wondered if it would just be easier if he let you find yourself all on your own, to let this thing between you go and hope that maybe you’d find your way back to him again.

When he looked over to you once again, he saw that you had found a photo album. It was one he was very familiar with; Garcia had gotten it for you on your 1-year BAU anniversary and filled it halfway. Since then, you’d continue to add to it all the photos you’d taken with the team.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a tear had fallen onto the picture you were currently examining. Your emotions were running high, looking through the album was so strange it felt like looking at a stranger and yet it was you in photo after photo looking happier than ever with these people you couldn’t remember.

You felt the couch dip beside you and Aaron gently rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I can’t imagine how overwhelming this all must be. I know that I can’t understand but I am here for you and I’m happy to lend an ear if you want to talk about it.” Aaron quietly soothed you.

“Thank you so much Aaron. I just don’t know how to wrap my head around this being me but not remembering it. Clearly you all mean so much to me and yet I have no recollection of any of this.” You sobbed.

Aaron and you sat like that on your couch for a while. He gave you the time you needed to calm down, while holding you, whispering sweet nothings to you. You felt oddly comfortable there in his arms, your mind shifted to the thought that enjoying the way his arms felt around you was also incredibly inappropriate given that he was your boss. At that thought you shifted slightly. You thought back to why you had signed up to audit Aaron’s lecture and while the main reason was the knowledge he’d lend you, a part of you allowed his looks to give you that final push in signing up.

“I should probably grab a few things so we can head out.” You whispered.

“Do you need any help?” Aaron asked.

“I should be okay, but I’ll let you know!”

Aaron drove the two of you back to his apartment, for the time being he had asked Jessica to keep Jack, this way you could adjust, and Jack also wouldn’t out your relationship. Aaron had his guest bedroom set up for you, he’d set it up with some of your favorite things. A lavender scented candle, extra pillows, a fluffy blanket, and he made sure to set a small trinket dish on the dresser, so you’d have a place to put your jewelry.

These of course were all things Aaron had previously had at his place for you. When you two had gotten increasingly more serious, he encouraged you to leave some stuff at his place and he’d gone as far as to supply some of your favorites around his home for you.

Aaron led you into his home and you couldn’t help but glance around, really taking in your surroundings. You couldn’t help but take note of a few things as he showed you around; there was a photo missing from the side table next to the couch (you could see the tiny bit of dust that must’ve collected around it), the pantry was stocked with quite a few of your favorite snacks, there was a pink coffee mug in the cabinet, and lastly, tucked under the shoe rack near the front door were a pair of fluffy gray slippers.

You couldn’t explain why, but there was a slight pang of jealousy in you as you thought of Aaron having a girlfriend. You knew you had no right to feel that way and it would be incredibly inappropriate, but it was a gut reaction.

*One Week Later*

Aaron and you had fallen into a weird sort of routine, it started to feel a lot like the 50’s, you making dinner and cleaning while he worked. You were starting to get a bit stir crazy, which is exactly why you were so excited today. Garcia would be coming by to see you; she was bringing over a bunch of photos and videos of you with the team throughout the last three years.

It was a paperwork catch-up day for the BAU, so Aaron had given Penelope the go ahead to take a long lunch and spend some time with you. So, when a knock on the door rang through the apartment, you couldn’t help the burst of excitement that coursed its way through your veins.

“Hi Penelope!”

“Hey babe! How are you feeling?” She asked, giving you a look of concern.

“I’m feeling pretty good, you know, except for the missing five years of memories thing.”  You let out a low chuckle.

“Oh goodness! Well, I’ve brought a ton of stuff that might help bring some stuff back. I read that sense of smell is the sense that links with memories the strongest so have a bunch of things for you to smell while you look at photos in hopes something will come back to you.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” You smiled at Penelope.

The next hour or so went by with Penelope showing you photos and videos along with passing you various items to smell in hopes of bringing back some of your memories. And while it wasn’t like a wave crashing over you, bringing all your memories back, it did bring some things back. You could remember the members of the BAU and some of their quirks, you remembered the feeling of being in the bullpen (thanks to the smell of some very burnt coffee). What you were struggling to regain was your emotional memories, you couldn’t quite pinpoint the relationships you had with anyone from the team. 

“I am glad that this helped! I should probably get out of your hair though; I can tell you have headache.” Penelope

“Thank you Penelope, I really appreciate all of this!”

You led her to the door, and she reminded you to get some rest and to take it easy. She also suggested that you come by the BAU for lunch in the next week or so to see everyone. The team had been doing a good job of not overwhelming you and allowing you time to get back in the swing of things.

“Oh, Penelope before you go, did you get a chance to back up my old phone? Aaron said you were working on it.”

“Oh, hon. He must’ve forgotten to mention it, but I will get started on that right away! I’ll text you as soon as I’m done, okay? We will just be able to pull the backup and put it on your new phone!” She said pulling you into a tight hug, before making her exit.

Why would Aaron have lied to you about your old phone? Maybe Penelope was right, and it just slipped his mind, he had been dealing with a lot, taking care of you, and having you stay with him.

You hadn’t meant to snoop, honestly, but after having talked with Penelope, the feeling Aaron was hiding something from you was extremely prevalent. You decided to look around a bit, you know, while putting the laundry away. You needed to put the towels away in Aaron’s bathroom, you just happened to notice the second toothbrush in the holder, the dress hanging inside his closet (come on, the door was already open), the ring box tucked in his sock drawer, what shocked you the most were the photos in the hall closet. It was a photo of him and a tall brunette that had you spiraling, where was this woman? You had clearly been invading his space long enough and you couldn’t bear the thought of coming between him and this woman who was to be his fiancé.

You needed to get back to your life, and out of Aaron’s hair. You decided that you’d tell him that night over dinner, you were going to move back home.

“Hey, I’m home!” Aaron called.

“Hey, how was your day?” You asked.

Aaron explained that his day was good, and he asked you about your get together with Penelope as you finished up dinner. Aaron set the table as you followed behind him plating up the food.

“I’m glad to hear things went well with Penelope. I think lunch with the team is a great idea.”

“Aaron I’m gonna move back home.” The words flew out of your mouth faster than your brain could catch up. “I’m sorry, I just don’t want to impose on your life any more than I already have.”

“It’s truly not an imposition, but if that’s what you want.” Aaron looked deflated.

“I just think it’s important we both get back to our usual every day.”

“If you think that’s best.”

You two ate in silence. Afterwards you both went to the kitchen, cleaned up the dishes and made your way to your separate rooms. You began packing up your belongings and Aaron scrolled through photos of the two of you from before the accident.

*Two Days Later*

“Good morning gorgeous!!! I am calling to inform you that the backup from your old phone is ready, and I also think it is the perfect day for you to come in and have lunch with everyone!” Penelope sang over the phone.

“Okay, what time should I come down there?”

“Ummm maybe around 12:30? Everyone is usually ready to eat by then. I can call and order in something too!”

“Oh, and uh Pen, I don’t know the address, and I’m not cleared to drive.” You said shyly.

“Oh shoot, okay! I’ll see who is available to come and pick you up, no worries.” Penelope reassured you.

You took some time getting ready, most of the team hadn’t seen you since before the injuries, and while the cuts and bruises have faded and scarred, you still had a very broken wrist and frequent headaches, along with PTSD and anxiety attacks thanks to the TBI. You felt like you had been doing well, and based on your recent check-up with your neurologist, things are trending up in regard to your health. Though you began to worry that the worst had yet to come.

A knock on your door shook you out of your thoughts, as you made your way to answer it, you wondered who Penelope sent to get you. Pulling the door open revealed someone you were hoping you wouldn’t see so soon.

“Hi Aaron.”

“Hello, were going to go pick up the food on the way back to the BAU, if that’s okay.” Aaron explained.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

The drive was filled with tense silence. You couldn’t help but wonder why Aaron would harbor any negative feelings towards you. You’d only moved out of his apartment so he could get back on to his life, if anything he should be grateful that you’ve gone home. One of the main reasons you’d really decided to go home was because of the fact that you were growing far too comfortable.

Things at Aaron’s house were starting to feel right, like it was where you belong. You had no idea how you had been able to work with him over the last few years, the crush you had on him all those years ago had only proven to grow stronger.

“I’ll run in and grab the food.” Aaron said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Before you could reply, he stepped out of the car and made his way into the restaurant.  

Aaron got you signed in with a visitor’s badge (as you weren’t cleared to work) and then he led you up to the sixth floor, BAU bullpen. Upon walking in, you felt an odd sense of familiarity. You knew that it would make sense for the BAU to bring memories back and that you would have muscle memory to help lead you through the building, but it felt very strange.

You looked over at Aaron, “I need to go see Garcia, do you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

“Of course, her office is that way. Second door on the right.”

“Thanks.” You smiled.

You wandered through the corridor, catching a glimpse of Garcia through her open door. You lightly knocked on her door and walked into her office.

“Oh! Hello gorgeous!” Garcia squealed, standing, and pulling you into a hug.

“Hey Pen!”

“Let’s get your phone squared away and then we will go eat.”

You handed your phone over to Penelope and she began downloading the last backup from your old phone.

“This should only take a few minutes.”

Penelope and you made idle chit chat for a few moments while waiting on your phone. When it finished uploading, she unplugged it and handed it to you. The two of you then made your way to the bullpen.

Lunch with the BAU was overwhelming to say the least. It was fun talking to everyone, but you could tell everyone was walking on eggshells and you could see the pity flash behind their eyes as you sat and explained your lack of memories with the people sitting before you.

After lunch, Aaron let everyone leave early. It had been a paperwork day and the team had been very productive. He told them all to go home, but of course to leave their phones on, just in case they had to leave. Emily offered to drive you home, given the close proximity of your apartments.

When you got home, you changed into some comfortable clothes and sat on the couch. You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone. There were two things you noticed while going through everything, the first being a significant number of photos saved and the second being the texts exchanged between you and your boss.

You decided to go through the photos first. There were plenty of you with the various members of the BAU, but what caught your attention was one image in particular, in it, you were laid in bed with your head resting on a man’s chest…the man being none other than Aaron.

You quickly switched over to your messages app. Clicking Aaron’s name, you saw the most recent text…

“Be careful sweetheart. I love you.”

Your mind was racing, what were you meant to think, why would he keep this from you? Was the ring meant for you? You needed to see him.

You ordered an Uber and made your way to the FBI building. You signed in, getting a visitors’ badge and headed up to the sixth floor.

“Aaron” You called out into the bullpen.

“Is everything okay? What are you doing here?” Aaron asked as he walked out of his office.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Aaron questioned.

“That we were together.”

You gestured to your phone. Aaron dropped his gaze for a moment, before looking back to you. You could see the pain behind his eyes.

“Sweetheart, we had been keeping it a secret, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that maybe you’d be better off. I figured you might find someone more appropriate for you.”

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make. Aaron things have been confusing enough, losing my memory. But to have you lying to me, it’s total bullshit. How am I supposed to get my memories back if you are keeping such a big part of me a secret.” You couldn’t help the frustrated tears from slipping down your cheek.

Aaron reached for you and let his thumb brush the tear off your cheek. He stepped closer to you and brought his other hand to your cheek.

“I am so sorry. I should’ve told you from the get-go, I was scared. I thought that maybe I would tell you and you’d have to get to know me again and maybe you wouldn’t love me the way you did before. I also couldn’t help but think that I don’t deserve you and this was your perfect out. But that was selfish, I should’ve told you the truth.”

You leaned your head onto Aaron’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline and then he pulled back.

“Can I show you something?” Aaron asked.

You nodded and followed him to his office. Aaron led you around his desk and gestured for you to sit in his chair. He pointed to his computer screen, and you took note of the screen saver. It was a slideshow of pictures taken throughout your relationship, there were pictures of you at the FBI Gala, Jack’s soccer game, art museums, at Aaron’s home, at your apartment, etc..

It happened slowly, then all at once. A warm feeling flooded your veins, and a dull ache filled your head. Tears were steadily streaming down your face. You looked up at Aaron, and he met your gaze. A moment was shared before understanding washed over Aaron.

“I remember.”

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[mvybanks]

Hii! Can I request something where reader is best friends with JJ (secretly in love) and was supposed to sleep at his house (luke’s already in prison) after a kegger because she doesn’t want to sleep alone at home (or for some other reason you can decide) but JJ forgot and brought a random girl to sleep with instead. Reader is hurt and ignores him, JJ not knowing what he did wrong but when he remembers feels bad and tries to make up maybe leading to a love confession? Hope this makes sense & you can write this!! Really like your writing❤️❤️

too busy being yours to fall for somebody new

a/n: hii, thank you!! i really hope you like this!

warnings: ANGST, mentions of sex

word count: 2.8k

my masterlist

if there was one thing that living in the outer banks had taught you was that life is never easy. not for people like you, anyway. you get beaten up and forgotten about constantly, but that’s just how it’s always been for pogues.

yet, you’ve never felt unlucky or cursed.

being a pogue might have meant that you couldn’t always afford what you needed, but at least you knew that you would never be alone. your life was full of love, friends and laughter.

and of course, your best friend. the only person in this world that you were sure would do absolutely anything for you. he was your rock and you were his. anyone with eyes could see how in love he was with you, how he looked for you whenever you weren’t around, which was rare, how his whole face lit up when he made you smile. anyone, except you.

jj maybank was never an easy person to understand and most people couldn’t warm up to his reckless behavior and childish comments made at the worst of times. but you did, because he might have been difficult but he was so worth it. you had never met someone with a bigger heart and you actually felt lucky to be a part of his life.

what you hadn’t realized was that you were the most important part of it.

“do you think we’ll ever get out of this island?” he asked one evening as you sat on the beach between his legs, your back against his chest while his arms circled around your torso.

he rested his head on your shoulder and you sighed, “don’t know. where do you wanna go?”

“it depends. where do you wanna go?” icy blue eyes looked at you expectantly.

“why? you following me, maybank?” you joked, but there was no humor in what he was saying.

he gently kissed your exposed shoulder, a simple act that wasn’t new but that always managed to make you shiver.

“just wanna be wherever you are,” he mumbled against your skin.

you nodded twice as you felt your heart trying to jump out of your chest, “good. you won’t get rid of me that easily, you know that?”

he chuckled, “wasn’t planning on it.”

you stayed like that for god knows how long, enjoying the comfortable silence and staring at the stars above you. you took his hands in yours and interlocked your fingers together, at which he answered by kissing your cheek.

“hey,” you asked after a while, “can i sleep at yours tomorrow? my parents are out of town and you know i don’t really like being alone.”

he raised his head from your shoulder, “why are you even asking me that? you know you’re always welcome, love.”

you blushed at the nickname, “wanted to make sure you were okay with it first,” you shrugged.

“ ‘course i am. plus, i’d never leave you alone. i know how scared you get,” he teased.

“shut up, i’m not scared,” you said pushing his head, eliciting a laugh from him.

“sure you aren’t.”

it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to act like that. you’ve always looked like a couple from the outside, which was probably the reason why it was always hard for you to find someone. that, or maybe it was your best friend that scared them off with just one look, but you didn’t know that.

although neither of you had ever had the guts to confess your feelings, jealousy was something that you couldn’t hide and jj very aware of that. he had tried to shake off that feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw a guy talking to you or that weird sensation in his chest when you started dating someone, but it was impossible to not notice them.

sometimes those feelings would cloud his judgement, the heartache was too much and he had to shut off all of his emotions in order to forget about his pain. he loved you, so much that he believed that you were better off with someone else, and so he settled for being just your friend, a part of your world, and as long as you would keep him with you, he was okay with that.

until he wasn’t.

it was pathetic, he knew that. the drink in his hand was probably his fifth or sixth one of the evening as he watched you dancing with another guy at the party you two were attending with your friends. he sat far away and if someone didn’t know him, they would’ve probably thought he was a creep from how much he was staring. but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, his beautiful best friend, the person he cared about the most in the world, swaying her hips to the music while some guy had his hands on her.

would you bring him home? or would you let him bring you to his place? was that why you insisted on going to that party, just so you could hook up with someone?

jealousy had obviously taken the best of him as he had even forgotten that you were supposed to sleep at his place that night, and you’ve always loved those kind of nights with him, where it was just the two of you and no one else. of course you weren’t going to do anything with that guy, you were only trying to have fun, just like he always did at keggers.

he was an hypocrite and he hated himself for it.

“hey, cutie,” a strange woman’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

he turned around and an attractive woman was sitting by his side. she wrapped her hand around his bicep and her intentions were clear, especially when she put her other hand on his knee.

“you look lonely. everything okay?” she asked, although she didn’t really seem that interested in what he was about to say, not that he could see that as drunk as he was.

“love is bullshit, you know?” he said and his angry voice caught her off guard. she took her hands off of him and tried to follow his eyes, always fixed on you.

“ah. i see,” she nodded her head, understanding exactly how he felt, and then grabbed his chin to make him look at her.

“listen,” she continued with a soft tone, “gonna be real honest with you. i came here because you’re hot and i wanted to hook up with you. so can i help you take your mind off whatever is going on with you?”

he sighed and thought about it, his eyes went back on your figure, completely unaware of what was going on while some guy whispered something in your ear, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“c’mon. we can go to my place,” he said looking at the woman next to him.

you had just pushed away the guy in front of you who was starting to get too close and handsy, when your eyes wandered in search of your best friend. you looked around until you finally saw him, walking towards his bike with a girl under his arm.

everything in you stopped.

had he really forgotten about you? tears pricked at your eyes and you knew you needed some air, so you walked away from all of the drunk people around you and sat on the beach nearby.

you couldn’t believe it. the same guy that would’ve given you the moon, if he could’ve, had forgotten about you, how was that possible? was a hookup more important than you? you felt angry more than you felt sad. angry at him for not even thinking twice, and at yourself for feeling heartbroken.

he wasn’t yours. so why did everything in you ache at the thought of him bringing another woman to his place?

you took your phone from your front pocket and looked at his contact, weighing if calling him would’ve been a good idea. you decided to leave it alone and called another friend who was at the party.

“hey! where are you?” kie shouted through the phone.

“i’m on the beach. can i ask you a favor?”

when she found you, you blamed your red and puffy eyes on the alcohol, but you knew she didn’t buy it and you wordlessly thanked her for not prying. she silently drove you to your empty house and offered to stay with you, but you needed time alone.

once you got inside, you finally let yourself cry. no one was there to judge you or to ask you what happened, and you were actually glad about that.

‘that’s what happens when you fall for your best friend, huh?’ you thought to yourself.

you should’ve seen it coming. of course he was going to hook up with someone. just because you had to be a baby about being home alone didn’t mean he had to deny himself some fun. and you felt stupid, you shouldn’t have cared about this.

so you fell asleep on the couch in the living room, your tear-stained cheeks as a reminder of your heartache.

meanwhile, jj was lying alone in his bed, an arm thrown over his eyes as he couldn’t believe what he had just done. he knew he was a little bit drunk but he didn’t expect to moan out your name while another woman had her lips on his neck. she felt so humiliated that she left his apartment, leaving him in shock of his actions. he barely slept, if he even did that, the only thing he knew was that he got up from the mattress the next morning with you running through his mind. as usual.

he texted you multiple times, but he never received an answer and anxiety of what had might happened to you was eating him alive.

jj: hey did you get home okay?

jj: are you home?

jj: can you just let me know if you’re safe?

but nothing. when you didn’t answer to his calls, he got too much worried and decided to swallow his pride and drive to your house. the storm outside was raging and he wasn’t even sure if his bike would’ve made it so he decided to walk — no, he actually ran to you. the thought of you being hurt gave him all the strength he needed to run to your front door.

he knocked countless of times and then it hit him: you were supposed to sleep at his place. fuck. he shouted your name over and over again, and you heard him every single time, but you weren’t going to forgive him that easily. you might have been a fool for thinking he should’ve cared more about you than some girl but he was the one who treated you as if you were the only person in this world. if that wasn’t how he felt, then why did he act like it?

“OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE!” he kept yelling, his voice muffled by the rain and yet so clear.

after a particular loud thunder, you decided to grant his wish. you might have hated him in that moment but the line between love and hate is incredibly fine.

and there he was, completely soaked, bloodshot eyes looking at you and full of regret. the sight of you wearing his sweatshirt almost gave him a little bit of hope of being forgiven.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. i completely forgot,” he was panting loudly and you wondered if he had walked under the rain just to tell you that.

you shrugged and faked indifference, “i don’t care. why are you here?”

“yes, you do. you care and i’m sorry, i really am. i don’t know what happened, i don’t know how i forgot about this,” but he did. he had acted childishly, he had entirely lost sight of what really mattered.

a stranger having his hands on you? that didn’t matter, that wasn’t even worth mentioning. you mattered.

only you.

“listen, jj” you sighed, “i don’t wanna talk about it. i hope you had a good night. can i go back to my movie now?”

now he noticed what was really going on. he cursed himself for not getting this sooner and he really hoped he was right about this.

“nothing happened.”

“don’t know what you’re talking about. goodbye, jj,” you went to close the door but he stopped you, his hand colliding with the wood.

“nothing happened between me and her. she left before anything could’ve happened. i-“ he ran a hand through his hair and prayed that he wasn’t going to ruin this, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

you swallowed and suddenly your mouth felt very dry, “i told you to go.”

he got closer to your face as his hand was still trying to force your door open, “please. i saw you with another guy and i completely lost it, you have to believe me. i’d never forget about you, pretty girl,”

“don’t you dare call me that right now. i told you to leave! ” your voice was raising while you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“no, i’m not leaving,” and the look in his eyes was full of determination.

“fine, then i’ll call the cops until you do.”

“okay, you do that. but i still won’t leave,” his face was too close to yours and you couldn’t bear it, so you shoved him.

“go. away.” you yelled.

“stop pushing me away!” he raised his voice as well, a little bit farther from you now.

“and you stop acting like you care about me!” that hurt him the most and you regretted it immediately.

“i don’t care about you now?” he chuckled humorlessly and threw his head back, his hands covered his face and then moved away the hairs that had stuck to his forehead due to the rain.

“jj, i-“

“no, no, please! tell me how i don’t care about you. tell me how i feel about you, go ahead. ‘cause if that’s what you think then you really know nothing about me. i bet you think i don’t love you either, do you? that i haven’t been painfully in love with you since the moment i met you, that everything in me doesn’t hurt whenever i see you with someone else, that you’re not on my damn mind every single minute of everyday. you don’t know that i haven’t been able to be with anyone for months now because i can’t stop thinking about you.”

tears were already streaming down your face and you couldn’t believe what he had just told you. you looked at him, panting and hurting, and everything inside of you screamed at you to run to him and hug him but you felt paralyzed.

“you know what? fuck this, forget about what i said.”

he began walking down the driveway of your house, his own tears mixing with the rain, when he felt your hand on his forearm and he stopped his movements.

“i don’t wanna forget,” you said and finally your mouth was on his.

you wrapped your hands around his neck, ran your fingers through his wet and messy hair, and his hands went on the back of your head and on your back, gripping your shirt as if it was his lifeline.

and it was messy and desperate, the both of you completely soaked in the rain but it was perfect, because you were his and he was yours.

you pulled away for a second — “not yet,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again. you giggled in his mouth at his eagerness and you had to put your hands on his chest in order to breathe.

his blue eyes were looking into yours and there was nothing in them but love. you cradled his face in your hands and rubbed his wet cheeks with your thumbs.

“i love you, too, j. i didn’t mean to say that you don’t care about me, i’m sorry. i was just mad and i-“

“it’s okay,” he interrupted you and pecked your lips once, “i know. and i’m really sorry about last night. i was jealous and drunk, i shouldn’t have done that. i know that you’re not mine and that’s not how i should-“

“i’m yours,” you mumbled on his lips, which curled up into a smug smile.

“yeah?” you nodded, “i’m yours, too.”

you gently grabbed his shirt in your hands and began to slowly walk backwards to your front door.

“wanna show it to me?” you smirked at him.

and he didn’t waste another second without showing you how much he loves you.

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fanfiction

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Mother, I am hungry☹️ could you please give us a list of Kinks you think Konig would have to satisfy my hunger?🙏🏾

Hooooo boy!

CW: PURE FILTH below the cut, 18+ only. Light dom/sub, disciplinary/power play, exhibitionism, light bondage, domestic servitude, somnophilia, yandere!König killing someone who saw you naked, squirting, porn, M/F/F/F

Nature lover. The blowjob in the forest fantasy wasn't a lie! König thinks it would be romantic to make love to you in the middle of a dreamy glade, rut you against a sturdy tree, or have you take him in your mouth on some picturesque beach empty of other people.

He would also love to "warm himself" during a nice little wintertime walk, perhaps push you on your belly in the snow and tug your pants down just enough for him to slide inside your wet heat. The contrast between the frigid air and your warm, wet pussy drives him over the brink in mere minutes, and it's cute to watch you pout all the way back home – he knows his cum is spilling out of you, staining your underwear. He should give you a wash when you get back to turn that frown upside down ❤️

Powerplay. König loves to be in control. He would like to set a few rules for you and punish you when you "accidentally" break them. Those rules would be nonsensical and superficial – such as that you must greet him in nothing but your underwear when he comes home, ensure he always has clean clothes in the drawer, cook his favorite meal on Sundays, things like that. "You know what this means, Schatz," he mutters on your neck upon noticing you've broken his Sacred Rules, much to his delight – because the disciplinary action is that he's allowed to take you right then and there.

It's even better if you beg him not to punish you, explaining that you're tired or that you forgot. It's too bad, because only a safeword will save you. König is already getting his leaking cock out while you're on your knees, asking him to be merciful, just this once. "You know I have to do this… It's the only way you'll learn," he says before commanding you to either open that pretty mouth or turn around and bend over.

Squirting. He would be overjoyed if he got you to squirt. König has mainly watched amateur porn because regular porn is too emotionless and unnatural in his opinion. His preference is women doing solo – that's when he learned what squirting was and immediately vowed he would make his future wife squirt one day.

Exhibitionistic tendencies. This kind of ties in with the sex in nature fantasies: König would secretly love to get caught while having sex. He would particularly love it if the one catching you was a man, so that a "rivaling male" could see 1. how a woman is supposed to be fucked 2. how much you enjoy being fucked by him 3. what they can never have, i.e. gorgeous, whimpering, devastated you.

Yandere König would also kill the one who witnessed you two (and what's worse: witnessed you in a vulnerable, naked, quivering state), and I mean kill him right away, then come back to continue the session as if nothing happened 💀 In his mind, it's all very simple: he has to get rid of the one who laid eyes on you, then give you and himself an orgasm. In that order.

For him, there's nothing odd or wrong with striking a bloodied knife on your nightstand when he returns from his quest for blood. He'll insert his still hard cock inside you while speaking sweet nonsense in your ear, cooing how tight you are in a shaky, adrenaline-filled voice. You try to ignore the fact that he now has dried blood on his muscles, but it's no use. König reminds you of what he just did when your face distorts with tight pleasure. "No one is going to see you like this and live," his voice is almost a growl when you cum around that torturingly long cock.

Dominance and prisoner play. König would love to tie you up and use you as his personal fucktoy. And not just for one session… But for a solid, good 24 hours.

He wouldn't tie you too tight, just enough to prevent you from escaping the bed while he goes about his day, drinks a beer or two, comes to you every few hours to either make sweet, slow love to you… or fuck you with pent-up lust.

You being tied and helpless like that makes König attentive and tender one minute, and needy and greedy the next. You never know how it's going to be when he walks through that door, all you know is that he's going to pump you full of his cum.

He stays to watch it ooze out of you – it's actually one of the main events of this whole show because it means he'll have to fill you up again soon. He might also give himself a fap if you look too used and miserable or if you beg for mercy and whimper that you're sore. It's no problem: he's more than happy to cover your body with his seed. He's merciful like that.

When the day is done, you're a mess – inside and out – and he's fucked you stupid more times you can count, giving you so many orgasms that you feel soft in the head. What's fun though is that the man himself is in no better shape: you notice his legs are shaking when he finally comes to release you, looking like he has lost more than a few brain cells due to breaking the Guinness record of fucking you and himself senseless.

If you ever want to fulfill this fantasy, you will receive abundant aftercare. And I mean abundant. Bathing, cooing, pampering, treats, praise, and cuddles galore!

Mirrors. Fucking you in front of a mirror is like watching the best porn ever. Anything with a reflection will do, as long as König can watch you come undone, helpless and needy for his cock while he gets to display his strength. This man will probably install a mirror to your bedroom ceiling without asking your permission, but he prefers doing you from standing, prefers to do the lifting and the work.

Ballet dancer from behind and a stand & carry variation of Nelson are his favorite positions when using mirrors. All you have to do is enjoy... and obey when he tells you to watch what he's doing to you. "Look at that... You like being fucked like this?" he pants in your ear with strain and love while you both can see just how much you like it – his cock is practically glistening from how wet you are.

I'm sorry, were you busy? God forbid if you're wearing a dress or a skirt while making an important call. It doesn't matter if you're sitting: König will approach you, gets on his knees and then starts to kiss his way under your skirt.

Good luck trying to concentrate on that call when there's a horny giant forcing his head under your cute little dress. Soon he's sniffing at your cunt and tries to pull your underwear aside with his teeth. Try keeping your voice normal when he actually succeeds and you feel the first lick sweep over your pussy, flat tongued and hot.

You don't dare to fight him or tell him to stop in the middle of your serious, official and important call, which means you can feel the smiles on your poor wet heat. Of course König notices you're starting to sound like you're half crying... It only spurs him on!

You're a bit disoriented and don't register it at first that this hulking man is already climbing on top of you. It's rare for him to beg, but as he continues to dry hump you and then forces his cock between your thighs in search of your wet heat, you can hear him whisper: "Engel? Bitte... I have to put it in. Don't say no…"

Somnophilia kink. Yep, he has it, because the more helpless you are, the more "loving" he gets. König loves to watch you sleep, safe and secure there in his bed and in his arms. He caresses you like you're the Sleeping Beauty and if you happen to sleep naked (like he always does, this guy is a bit of a nudist at home), his fingers soon drift down to tease your clit, his hips start to slowly grind against your leg until you stir.

Gangbang fantasies where he's the one doing all the banging. One of his fantasies is to have multiple women all to himself. König would never seek to fulfill these fantasies in a committed relationship, but when he was lonely and only had his hand to keep him company, König used to dream he could have a row of women waiting for him when he returned from a mission 🙄

Usually three ladies who all want to worship and touch him and tell him how big he is, how heroic he is. He will command them to all fours, and they obey happily, ready and willing to be used. He does these ladies from behind, switching between them until everyone, including him, is on the brink of an orgasm. In these fantasies he always makes those women cum first. No one can say our King lacks manners! (How cute that he's so sure of himself... Would König even have the willpower to switch from one pussy to the next, not to talk of outlasting three women? I highly doubt that.)

Or how about these girls getting on their knees to suck his cock? In König's desperate, lonesome fantasies, these cute ladies love him so much that they start to fight over who gets to take him in their sweet wet mouth. They will eventually solve the fight by forming a queue – every woman gets half a minute with their King before changing. The long seconds when his cock is bouncing there in the cold air, devoid of a warm mouth, are torture. But he would stand strong!

Our brave soldier falls asleep while imagining how these purring, warm babes would cling to him for warmth and cuddles. Everyone is happy and pleased and he has been loved and worshiped thoroughly. In truth he just came in one minute, then tries to curl into a fetal position in a bed far too small for him. Cooling down from the day's highs, this Goliath is all alone, his last thought being that if he could get just one real woman to admire and love him and hug him before they go to sleep together, he would be the happiest man in the world.

#answered #könig headcanons #könig x you #könig smut #some fluff here too #könig imagine #forgive me father for i have sinned #this turned out so filthy #i have to burn this blog change my name and move out of the country

[treasureplcnet]

assorted bodies doodles (transcript of that messy relationship square under the cut due to my handwriting/incoherency)

TAKE THESE W A GRAIN OF SALT i am like 90% joking:

hillinghead -> hasan, and vice versa: immediate mutual respect

hillinghead -> whiteman: he's incredibly smart, deceptively cunning but very kind. but he is also so annoying oh my god--

hillinghead -> maplewood: "please someone explain science fiction to me"

whiteman -> iris, and vice versa: two friends secretly think of the other as the sidekick

whiteman -> hillinghead: annoying him is quickly becoming a favorite pasttime

whiteman -> hasan: will not admit it but he wants parenting tips from her

hasan -> whiteman: has slipped a parenting book to him

hasan -> maplewood: deja vu about their future weirds her out a little, but she trusts her

iris -> hillinghead: fond of him from the time they spoke in the prison. enjoys fucking with him

iris -> hasan: SHE'S THE GOAT

#re: while i like whiteman being a funny comic relief type character in this lineup (less comic relief and more witty and funny) #i do recognise that he's not rly like that in canon. much more cunning and able to blend into whatever situation he can #able to say the right things when he needs to (right after farrell dies) and deflecting of any real observations (with calloway) #its very chameleon like to the point of giving up a very integral part of his identity to safeguard himself-- #even though he cares very much about it (the way he reacts to antisemitic comments and his face drops when farrell mentions the synagogue) #now what is actually annoying to hillinghead is that he knows karl can actually be very gracious he's still choosing to fuck with him LOL #the annoyance spreads to iris too. i rly think iris-karl buddy cop duo could be so funny #i actually really need more fic or art of them all interacting . here's how bodies s2 can still happen. #bodies netflix #karl weissman #esther jankovsky #sharara hasan #alfred hillinghead #iris maplewood #and sorry to hillinghead who is not drawn well. kyle soller 1 treasureplcnet 0 #my art #and im not quite sure why theyre having breakfast tgt in that first comic. perhaps bc the original meme has them like that LOL

[cinnamonest]

Thinking about terrible terrible boys who use Darling’s social anxiety against themselves

Kaveh who keeps you home because the world is just far too mean, just look at his roommate if you need any reminder. It’s putting himself out there that resulted in his debt, it’s the outside that caused you hurt don’t ever forget. It’s fine, he’ll lavish you enough to fill all you need, you really don’t need any other contact than himself!… and the forced proximity of Alhaitham grrr.

Ayato who keeps bringing you in important social events just to see you cling to him. He doesn’t teach you any etiquette, so you never know what’s socially unacceptable. You stand so close to him, trembling, your voice barely louder than a whisper. It serves as a reminder, see how bad the world is? All of them are vile people. If you run away, who’s to say you won’t end up with someone worse than him? (It’s terrible, how you keep waking these sadistic urges in him. He’s a good man with lots of self restraint but still a man.)

Wriothesley who got you locked up in his office. You complain about boredom, about his behaviour, but he only swat your worries away. He’s not worried about you ever running off, this is an underground prison. Criminals are the only residents, and god knows how many would have enough self control to keep their hands off if he’s not with you. Besides you’ve been here for so long, you have no place on the surface anymore. What would you do, go cry to Neuvillette? Pfff yeah, right. Try saying hello to Clorinde without trembling first.

Yes yes I am FOR this idea, also consider: Kaeya is the top tier candidate for it. He’s already in the top tier of Manipulative Bastardry, but it gets so much worse if he finds a weakness to exploit — and he’s great at sensing those.

He doesn’t mind that you’re introverted. However, he doesn’t just use the situations as opportunities to give you affirmation as a means of comforting you and coaxing you into bonding with him, no, he stoops so much lower than that. Outright taking advantage of it for his own benefit, ensuring he can use every tactic at his disposal to get whatever he wants... except "whatever he wants" actually just tends to be one consistent thing.

In the early stages, where he can pretend he doesn’t know you well enough to be able to feign ignorance to how much it would exhaust you, he makes sure to plan long public outings, watching as your energy quickly drains until you can’t bear another second in the public atmosphere and all but beg him to return home.

This gives him the opportunity to act disappointed (when in reality, he’s overjoyed it’s playing out exactly as planned) — aw, and here he had so many more things he wanted to show you before the night was over, but no worries, it’s fine… no no, it’s fine, really… and now that you’re all nice and feeling guilty, well, that will just make it much easier to coax you into giving him something to compensate for the disappointment you’ve caused once you’re behind closed doors. Maybe you’ll even volunteer it yourself.

But even later on, once he can no longer put on an act of not knowing how easily drained you are, he can still use it against you. Don’t worry, he knows you’re shy and easily tired out, you two can just stay at home tonight… besides, there’s plenty of fun things you can do alone at home, right…? Surely you’ll be able to think of something.

He, however, stoops even lower still, because he’s also willing to exploit your paranoias and insecurities, even if it means hurting you a bit. Part of the reason why you’re so socially withdrawn, he learns, is that you’re afraid of how others perceive you — I’m just annoying them, they all secretly hate me, you say, everyone thinks I’m weird…

And he… doesn’t rush to correct you or anything. Just shrugs.

Ah, who cares what they think? You already have someone who appreciates you as you are, you know.

Not denying it. If anything, it’s a subtle confirmation… he may even throw in a blatant —

Well, sure, they might feel that way, but I don’t. That’s good enough, isn't it? What do you need their attention for...?

— to really drive the point home, and throw in a bit of accusation and guilt for good measure. He likes hearing you immediately panic and stumble over your words as you reassure him that you don't need anyone else... it's adorable, and the ego boost is euphoric.

Honestly, you’re too gullible for your own good, so precious, so cute in how you fall for it so perfectly, effortless on his part. You don’t even hide your reaction in your expression, so transparent and vulnerable, the way your eyes widen with shock and you hang your head and your eyes water, giving him the perfectly opportunity to comfort you and hold you close and assure you it’s okay, they don’t matter, screw them anyway, and so on.

You’re so sweet, so pure. So much so that you almost, almost actually make him feel bad about it. How impressive.

#bro is physically incapable of not manipulating every single situation and interaction with darling into trying to get puss #.ky #q

[sinkdownbeneath]

“Fine By Me.”

Pairing - Daryl Dixon x Trans Masc Reader

Warnings - Talk of drug use, illness, needles, identity, possible transphobia.

Setting - S4 Prison

Summary - Daryl thinks you’re doing drugs, but ends up learning something new about you.

Type - Fluff

A/N: this is my first published fic!! i have briefly proofread, and i’m pretty happy with it. hope you enjoy :)

You sat on the edge of the bed in your cell, positioning the needle over your thigh, gripping at your flesh trying to gauge where to inject yourself. your palms were sweaty and you couldn’t get a good grip on the syringe, with Hershel in Block A, treating the prison flu, you had nobody to do this for you. Hershel had told you the week prior that he would be going to take care of the sick, and he took extra steps in showing you how to inject your medication, but this was the first time you had tried on your own, it was proving difficult.

You took a breath and widened your eyes, grabbing your skin and moving your face closer, trying to get the needle in the perfect spot before you pushed it in, ‘just do it, idiot’ you thought to yourself.

You heard a scoff and jumped, looking up with a surprised expression, Daryl stood at your door, holding the curtain you had put up against the frame.

“Didn’t take you for a fuckin’ junkie.” He said, a scowl across his face.

“What? No! I-“ you began,

“I don’ wanna hear it.” Daryl said, starting to turn away and leave.

“Daryl!” you jump towards him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around, he looked taken aback, offended, you weren’t sure, but before he could do or say anything, you grabbed his arm and yanked him into your cell, peering your head around the curtain to check nobody else was witness.

You held the syringe in front of his face, waving it as you annunciated “This is not heroin,” in a whisper-shout.

He looked puzzled and almost like he was challenging you, as if he was asking ‘oh yeah? what is it then?’.

“I am not a junkie, this is my medication! Now if you would give me a hand with sticking it in my thigh I would be grateful.”

You spoke to him in such a way he stood speechless for a moment, like he was a child who just got an angry finger waved in his face for his attitude.

“Well?” You ask, impatiently.

He flushed red for a moment and sheepishly nodded, taking the syringe from your hand, you sat back down and rolled your trouser leg back up, exposing the piercing site, jab marks from the previous weeks lingering.

Daryl sat beside you, needle in hand, inspecting it, and just as you thought he was about to stick you with it, he hesitated.

“Just lemme see whatever you put in here, I don’t wanna be responsible for nothin’.”

It was your turn to hesitate, you scoffed and looked at him, gauging whether he meant it or not, whether he really needed to see why you were secretly medicating yourself every week, when his expression didn’t falter, you reached into the box under your bed, and pulled out the small vial containing your lifeline.

You placed it into his hand, avoiding all eye contact, this man was the one you worried about telling, he wasn’t as loud as Merle was about his opinions, but they were brothers, they were hicks, surely they had their opinion in common?

He rolled the vial in his palm, exposed the small text written on the label, and brought it up to his eye. The bottle read ‘TESTOSTERONE’ in a bold font. Daryl studied it before peering over the bottle and into your eyes, he looked at you almost knowingly, his eyes told you that it was okay, you were okay.

This was the softest look Daryl had ever given you, he had just said so much more with his eyes than you had ever heard from his mouth, it meant a lot.

He gave the bottle back to you, and took the syringe between his teeth, using one hand to move your trouser leg up, and the other to grip a chunk of your flesh, rolling it between the tips of his fingers until the chunk felt right, he took his hand from your trousers and retrieved the needle from his mouth, poking it into you, and pressing down on the plunger at a slow pace.

You watched him, how he nibbled on his lip and furrowed his brow in concentration, how gently he treated you, you watched as he handled you with such care, you looked so deeply into him that you didn’t even realise he had removed the needle. The sudden sound it made when he tossed it onto the table next to your bed startled you awake from your trance, and you found yourself staring at the side of Daryl’s face, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting to all places other than your eyes.

“Sorry.” You said, he nodded.

“Thank you for doing that.”

“S’alright.”

The silence was so loud.

“How did you learn to do that?” You asked, breaking the silence so suddenly you caught yourself off guard.

“Do wha’?” he questioned, raising a brow and looking at you through his fringe,

“Inject, it seemed like you knew what to do.”

He nibbled on his lower lip again, looking around the room, as if he was trying to find the words.

“My Mama,” he replied, “before the fire, before everythin’, she was sick, I had to give her her medicine sometimes, she was in a lot of pain, kept her in bed all day, smokin’, readin’ her magazines, Merle took care of her when he wasn’t at Dad’s, but sometimes I had ta.”

He kept his eyes on the ground before timidly looking toward you, you looked at eachother for a moment, before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight, you were telling him it was okay, you were thanking him for not freaking out over you being trans. You were very private about your identity before the world fell, and you thought you would have to be the same now, you had told Hershel very reluctantly, but he told you that God loved you, and that he accepted you, and now Daryl knew, and he treated you with more care and understanding than before. You thought maybe your family, your new, found family, would be okay with it too.

Daryl wrapped his arms around you, and squeezed before pulling away from the hug and standing up by the door.

“Gotta go, Rick needs help with the fence.” he told you, punctuating his sentence with a half smile.

“Okay.”

He turned away and lifted the curtain.

“Daryl?”

“Mm?” He hummed.

“Thank you, I thought-“ You began,

“I know what it’s like. Feelin’ like you don’t belong. What you’re doin’, who you are, is fine by me.”

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x trans reader #daryl dixon x trans masc reader #twd daryl #twd fic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfiction #i love daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead fic #transmasc #daryl dixon fluff

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

So Many Questions Part 3

Prompt: You’re pulled in for questioning by NCIS and are quickly surprised to see your ex-boyfriend as your interrogator.

Notes: Some characters are post season 11. Some smut ahead! @kittenlittle24

Part 2. Part 1.

“I’m here to see Agent Gibbs,” you told the security officer. Making a quick call, he nodded and let you through, now adorning a spiffy visitor pass on your chest.

You entered the big orange room with a small smile, grateful this time you weren’t here to be interrogated. You spotted Agent McGee and Bishop sitting at their desks but no sight of Jethro.

“Miss L/N. Everything alright?” McGee asked as you rounded the corner and chose a chair to sit in.

“Oh yeah, everything’s good. Except for the whole phsycho investor trying to kill me. I felt too vulnerable at my office so I came here to see if I could help in any way.”

Both agents gave you a look that you could only describe as part fear part awe.

“What’s the problem?” you asked, looking around to see if there was a big spider somewhere.

“Uh, you’re just sitting at Gibb’s desk. No one sits there except Gibbs,” Bishop answered, laughing nervously. Jeeze. Is Jethro really that intimidating that his agents are scared of a desk chair?

“Well I saw an empty seat and took it. He won’t mind I’m sure. He’s not even here.”

“Oh but I am,” you heard, turning to see Jethro walking over with a cup of coffee in hand. He stopped to stand in front of you and for a few seconds you both just stared at one another, a silent fight for dominance happening. If the chair was so important, you’d let him have it.

You stood up, now close enough to him to smell his aftershave and gave him a smirk. You always loved challenging him, but loved it more when he challenged you back, as it usually ending with him on top in the literal and figurative sense.

Stepping aside, he took a seat and you moved some of his papers so you could sit on the corner of his desk. His team looked thoroughly shocked but didn’t say anything as Jethro barked at them.

“What’d you got?”

“Well Torres and Quinn are interrogating Cheryll Reznik. She told them Ian Chandler had been talking with a man named Dominic. Bishop and I were able to connect an electronic payment he sent for 10k to a Dominic Waters. Turns out Dominic had just been released from prison about a week ago for armed robbery and aggravated assault. Perfect man for a small hit job in need of cash.”

“Then go bring him in McGee. Take Bishop with you.”

They both quickly scurried off, not wanting to be in the awkward space that you had made. Once the elevator doors closed behind them, you spun around, legs now hanging over Jethro’s side.

“Well you certainly have them trained well.”

“Yeah, they listen. Unlike you. I told you to go back to work, we’ve got this handled.”

You leaned in slightly, watching as his eyes briefly glanced down at your slightly opened blouse and then back at your eyes.

“You know how much I love pushing your buttons Jethro. Plus, I’ve been at work all day and haven’t been able to get anything done. I didn’t feel safe there without you there.”

You picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. You forgot he liked his coffee plain.

“I’ve got an agent assigned to you when I’m not there,” he explained, taking the coffee out of your hands and taking a sip of his own.

“It’s not the same. Plus, I was thinking maybe we could get a bite to eat. Im starving and I’m assuming all you’ve had today is coffee.”

“No time. Got a killer to catch.”

“Yeah well you’ll be no good to anyone when you pass out from lack of food and an overdose on caffeine.”

He gave you the familiar look that let you know that he let you win the argument. He only ever gave it to you when he also secretly agreed with you.

Without a word, he got up and you hopped down to follow him with a triumphant smile.

————

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone to Duke’s. They’ve got the best beet salad,” you complained, sticking an overly cooked fry into your mouth. The little diner was cute but you were sure they weren’t known for their food.

“This place has good coffee.”

You watched him sip his probably 5th coffee of the day and rolled your eyes. Just then, your phone began ringing and you saw the caller ID as your next door neighbor.

“Hey Greg, what’s up?…What? Right now?….Can you see what he looks like?”

You listened to him give you a description and motioned to Jethro that it was important.

“Ok, no don’t confront them! We’re on our way!”

You hung up as Jethro had already gotten up and paid for the dinner.

“My neighbor just called saying someone was breaking into my place. His description was vague but it looked like they were looking for something.”

You both left the diner and sped off to your house. When you arrived, Greg was waiting out front and he gave you a hug, receiving a look from Jethro.

“They left just after I hung up with you. Took off in a blue sedan. I’m so glad you weren’t in there. I think I saw a gun.”

“Stay here,” Jethro ordered, pulling out his own gun and Greg’s eyes got wide.

“Don’t worry Greg. He’s a federal agent.”

The two of you waited as Jethro cleared the house and came back outside.

“What do you think he was looking for? Does this have anything to do with that crazy lady shooting you Y/N?” Greg asked as we all walked up the house steps.

“I’m not sure Greg, but I appreciate you calling.”

“Yeah no problem. I enjoy looking out for you,” he replied with a smile. Jethro gave him his classic hard stare and Greg cleared his throat awkwardly, smile fading.

“Alright. Well as long as you’re safe. Have a good-

The front door shut on him before he had a chance to finish his sentence and you looked at Jethro.

“He was just being nice Jet.”

“Mm-hm.”

You went around the semi trashed house, trying to figure out if anything was taken as Jethro picked up a little wooden boat from your shelf and inspected it.

“Your first gift to me. Made out of an old piece of driftwood I think you told me.”

He put it back and walked over to you as you finished putting back the couch cushions together.

“Well I don’t think anything was taken but honestly, I could be sure-

You were promptly interrupted by Jethro’s lips on yours and almost froze in shock.

When he didn’t make a move to pull away, you quickly matched his energy and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer.

You both took steps until you felt your back touch the hallway wall. His kisses moved from your lips to your neck as you pulled his jacket off.

“Bedroom. Now,” he spoke huskily, sparking a fire within you. Grabbing his hand, you led him down the hallway and into your bedroom that had also clearly been tossed. You could’ve cared less as the both of you got undressed, Jethro setting his gun and badge down on your bedside table and pulling you into bed.

He didn’t stay on top too long before grabbing you so that you sat atop of him, easily sinking down onto his more than ready length. You both moaned at the contact and you made quick work, rocking back and forth with Jethro’s big hands gripping your hips.

“Just like that baby,” he grunted, looking up at you as you let your head fall back in ecstasy. His hands traveled so that your breasts were being squeezed and pinched, quickly bringing you closer to your climax.

“I can’t last much longer Jet,” you panted, clenching around him, making his eyes close.

He sat up and pulled you in for another kiss, hands helping keep up your rythmic pace until you fell apart, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. He wasn’t far behind, groaning and holding you still as he filled you up, knowing you loved it when he came inside of you.

Breaths heavy as you both came down from your high, you stayed together, embracing each other. He tiredly peppered kisses on your shoulder and gently ran his fingers across your back, making you shiver.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss against your ear. “You were always so easily overstimulated.”

“Yeah well you make it so easy with your talented multi-tasking.”

Eventually, you two separated, you heading into the bathroom to clean up. When you came out, Jethro was on the phone but handed you your clothes.

“Yup. We’ll be right there.”

He hung up and finished tucking and buttoning up his dress shirt.

“That was McGee. They’ve got Dominic in interrogation. He wants to confess.”

“That’s great,” you said, getting dressed and walking over to him as he clipped his badge on and gun on. Fixing his dishelved hair, you smiled and pecked his lips.

“I hope you’ll still come by even after we nail this bastard.”

“Well someone’s gotta make sure Greg keeps his distance.”

You laughed and followed him out.

#gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #ncis #ncis fanfiction #agent gibbs #mark harmon #ncis request

[ldrfanatic]

Slytherin Boys as Tortured Poets Department Songs

*in perspective of their relationship with you AND their personality. and why*

which ts album should i do next?

(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott lorenzo berkshire)

slytherin boys masterlist nav

mattheo riddle as Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

best lyric(s) - "I want to snarl and show you Just how disturbed this has made me. You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me." + "I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean. Don't you worry folks we took out all her teeth." + "That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong."

explanation - Aside from the obvious reasons, I feel like it's not really talked about how damaging it would be to have Voldemort as your father. (or brother or any relative for that matter). To me, this song screams the rage of a person who's been judged their whole life for being a bad person, so they became a bad person. (I am what I am cause you trained me). Other students, most wizards, professors even, all look at mattheo like he's a bomb that's waiting to explode and it makes him really sad when he's a kid, but then when he grows up it just makes him angry. They should be afraid.

mattheo w/his partner - Now, with a partner, I firmly believe that he'd be closer to them than anyone. His partner would be the first person that actually tried to understand him and understand why he's as angry as he is all the time. mattheo really opens up to his partner and tells them about bouncing around orphanages after his mother got thrown into Azkaban for a few years and then going to live with the Malfoys where draco's father treated him like a bad seed that was poisoning his son even though he was doing that to draco himself. so mattheo really treasures the bond he has with his partner because they're the only ones that understand him and understand that he never wanted to become the dark lord's son, he just wanted to be mattheo but the world has made that impossible for him.

draco malfoy as The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

best lyric(s) - "I would've died for you sins, instead I just died inside. And you deserve prison but you won't get time." + "And in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. And I'll forget you but I'll never forgive."

explanation - later in life draco feels completely betrayed by his father. he really admired him and looked up to him as a kid (his parents made sure that he knew how important it was to be a Malfoy), but his father abused that admiration and now draco resents allowing him to manipulate him like that. draco felt incredibly robbed that his father didn't get sent to prison following the battle of hogwarts. he didn't wish to cause his mother any hardship, but secretly he was hoping that the defeat of voldemort would be his golden ticket to finally escape his father's dark shadow. also, i like to think that after harry potter defeated voldemort, draco never spoke to his father ever again. he still exchanges the occasional owl with his mother but he doesn't ever want to see his father again.

draco w/ his partner - draco's partner is someone who he can break down with. after years of being forced to mask his emotions under a cool facade, he's able to fall apart in his partner's arms and know that they won't judge him. they're one of only a few people that know that draco isn't just upset with his father because of his actions. he was upset because he felt like he'd been lied to his entire life and just wanted an explanation. later in life, draco feels incredibly self conscious about a lot of his earlier 'achievements' and if his father only doted on him as a child because he was raising him to be the dark lord's lackey. ultimately, draco really appreciates having someone to confide in, and the upbringing from his parents really makes him appreciate the way that you care for him without any strings or conditions attached.

theodore nott as Florida!!!

best lyric(s) - "So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm." + "barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine, well me and my ghosts we had a hell of a time." + "Little did you know your home's really only the town where you'll get arrested."

explanation - after the death of his mother, theo is obviously shaken up. he's actually quite fucked up for pretty much forever. he tries to pack all of his emotions inside and drown them out with drugs and alcohol. when he gets drunk, he doesn't have to deal with his mother not being here anymore. that's why it's not all that surprising when he starts hanging around with the children of death eaters. it is a surprise to him however when he returns to italy to visit his grandmother and she wants nothing to do with him.

theo w/his partner - theo and his partner give enemies to lovers (wild since I dont think i've ever written theo like that) but i firmly believe that he hates his partner in the beginning. why? theo's partner reminds him of his mother. their personality, their soft smile. it's all very reminiscent of his mother and he fucking hates it. At first. He doesn't like the way that being around you brings out the old theo. he doesn't want to lose you in fear that it'll feel like losing his mom all over again. but when theo finally does give into his feelings for you, he starts to cherish the ways that you remind him of his mother (and of course the ways that you don't). he often tells you about how he and his mother dreamed of escaping his father but were never able to.

lorenzo berskhire as Fortnight

best lyric(s) - "And for a fortnight there, we were forever, run into you sometimes, ask about the weather" + "and I love you, it's ruining my life" + "thought of calling you, but you won't pick up"

explanation - lorenzo spends his whole life desperately trying to escape his family. (i think he'd actually be one of the slytherins that fought against the death eaters in the battle of hogwarts). i think that lorenzo would have run away from home multiple times as a child just trying to escape and get some sense of normalcy. but i don't think that it ever would've lasted any longer than a day or two at most before he was found and brought back home (where his uncle was all too happy to try and beat lessons into him). because of this though, lorenzo would be the kind of person who's always trying to protect others.

lorenzo w/ his partner - because lorenzo is always trying to protect you and knows that his family would ruin you just to get at his emotions, when the death eaters take control of the ministry, he breaks up with you. he actually stays away from you for years following the war as well. all he has are his memories of his brief but happy moments with you. his love for you haunts him for this entire time. and then, he runs into you one day in diagon alley. it's a little awkward at first but the two of you actually rekindle the love that you once had and this time, he's all in.

---

4.23.24

wc 1.2k

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taglist

@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfo #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader

[naavispider]

Spider + recom squad headcanons because @hyperfixatedfandomer got me inspired ✨

(pic source)

Spider constantly cussing out Quaritch and the other recoms and nobody batting an eyelid

Quaritch secretly loving it because even though those are some spicy insults, Spider is obviously comfortable enough in his presence to say them

(Quaritch doesn’t know this is why he enjoys it, to him he’s just confused when a warm glow starts to spread from his chest)

Spider having the time of his imprisonment life because nobody seems to care that he hates them, he can just freely live his truth without being punished

He used to feel like he was walking on eggshells around the Omatikaya (esp Neytiri) because everything he said he could be judged for, but here no one gives a shit, it seems

Weirdly, he also knows that he’s probably a great deal safer with the recom squad than with any old Omatikaya, because these guys will actually try to protect him if any of the wildlife turns foul

Z-dog praising Spider for his creative insults, stating that they’re some of the most inventive ones she’s heard in her two lifetimes. Spider glowing warm because it’s the only praise he’s received from an adult in years

Quaritch watching the other recoms take the piss out of spider for his foul attitude towards them, but his juxtapositional softness and gentleness when it comes to the animals they encounter

Quaritch not joining in because he’s just watching Spider react, always trying to gauge his response

“What the hell is a Tarzan and why do you keep calling me tiger?!”

Quaritch has enough and gets a picture of a tiger up to show him. Spider is unimpressed at first until he realises that tigers look pretty ferocious, and he likes their stripes. From then on, the nickname doesn’t bother him.

The recoms all promise to never enlighten Spider about Tarzan, making him believe it’s a kind of species of Earth animal that died out thousands of years ago. Quaritch doesn’t join in but has to hide his smirk whenever Spider starts frustratedly asking how big tarzans were and if they had stripes or sharp teeth or were predators

Spider being woken up early in the mornings for trekking through the jungle with a furious, albeit sleepy, “fuck off.”

The recoms joking about spider being a baby, or weak, or fragile, but they recognise deep down that the kid is built. Quaritch knows this too and knows they’re only doing it to wind spider up, so he doesn’t stop them

When spider is especially annoyed/homesick/sick of being a prisoner, the recoms are better at noticing it than Quaritch, who at the beginning of their relationship was abrasive and unable to empathise with him

A hand on Quaritch’s shoulder from Wainfleet or Ja or Lopez is all it takes for the recoms to stop Quaritch from going off at the boy after he ransacked the supplies

Spider trying out the recom food from the suction packets and their faces bursting into laughter when spider pulls a disgusted face and starts gagging (a la trying alcohol for the first time)

Spider teaching Quaritch Na’vi at Quaritch’s request, but exchanging phrases like ‘good morning’ to ‘I am a worm’s anus’

Mansk has been checking the translation on his tablet software, and starting grinning when he catches on to what Spider is doing. He gets Z-dog and the others round and they watch with barely concealed laughter as Spider tricks the Colonel (Quaritch never finds out)

#miles spider socorro #miles quaritch #recom squad #team deja blue #avatar recoms #james cameron avatar #avatar the way of water #spider socorro #recom quaritch #my stuff #avatar 2 #atwow #colonel quaritch

[keeryscharm]

Christmas Joy

Eddie didn’t celebrate Christmas until he moved in with Wayne.

The holidays in general were not a concern for Eddie’s father. On Halloween he’d throw a sheet with two eye holes cut out over the small boy and send him to trick or treat the neighborhood alone. “Don’t stay out too late”, he’d grunt, knowing full well he’d likely be passed out by the time his son came home. “And remember I like Reese’s”.

With the too long, faded sheet trailing behind him, Eddie would run as fast as his small legs could carry him, crunching autumn leaves under his shoes. He would scurry over the whole neighborhood, often secretly following behind families so he didn’t get lost, until his paper bag almost overflowed. The candy was more than treats to Eddie - they’d also serve as dinner on nights his dad didn’t come home.

Birthdays, Christmas. These days were not acknowledged in the Munson household except for when Eddie’s dad would say each year, like their own sole ritual, “we are too broke for that shit”.

Christmas was the hardest for young Eddie. He could pretend his birthday didn’t exist. That was easy. Nobody would acknowledge it if he didn’t. Christmas, however, was not easily ignored. Eddie saw the homes decorated with rainbow colored lights and the towering, glittering trees in the windows. He saw the advertisements to meet Santa at the local mall. After school resumed he’d hear the excited chatter of the kids about what gifts they’d found under their trees on Christmas morning.

Eddie’s only connection to the holiday was contained in two photographs he’d discovered in a tin box in the back of the closet. In one photo he, as a chubby infant with a mop of brown curls, is cradled by his mother as she reclines in front of a tinsel covered tree. In the other photo Eddie, now barely a toddler with a tiny Santa hat perched on his head, reaches for a wrapped present. His mother is attempting to help him, her hands a dancing blurr in the photo, a wide smile on her face.

Those photos were proof to Eddie that once upon a time Christmas had existed in the Munson household but it passed away with his mother.

It was two months before Christmas when a nearly 13 year-old Eddie stood on his uncle Wayne’s door step, all his belongings packed in paper bags like the ones he used to trick or treat with. His father was in prison and Wayne was the only thing standing between him and foster care. The young boy arrived with paper bag luggage and no expectations.

One cold morning Eddie woke to discover Wayne decorating a real live tree in their living room. The tree was skimpy, to say the least, but Wayne wrapped beaded garland around it over and over. “I know it’s a bit of a Charlie Brown tree, but some roping and lights will fatten her up”

“Charlie Brown tree?” Eddie, who rarely bothered to watch cartoon specials about a day he didn’t get to celebrate, wasn’t familiar with the reference.

“Ya know”, Wayne gestured to the tree, pausing his decorating to enlighten the confused boy. “Like Charlie Brown’s Christmas? The little tree they decorate?” The older man quickly realized he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“What are those?” Eddie asked, pointing to small packages wrapped in shopping bags.

“Those are your presents, Eddie. I ain’t much of a gift wrapper, but I figured the bags themselves are wrapping too, right?”

The pause was too long. Wayne knew something was up but hoped his assumptions were wrong. His brother couldn’t have been that big a bastard.

“I never had Christmas presents before. I mean, not since mom died or whatever”

His fear confirmed, Wayne struggled not to let his voice tremble. “Oh, Eddie. I am sorry. I - I know this isn’t much but I hope this year can be different for you”

That night they drank hot coco with marshmallows and watched one Christmas cartoon after another - all accompanied by Wayne’s hilarious commentary. Eddie laughed until his sides hurt, drank two mugs of coco, and fell asleep on the couch under a blanket.

The next morning Eddie woke to find Wayne carrying an arm full of poorly wrapped gifts in shiny paper with big red stick on bows.

“Morning, sleepy head, didn’t mean to wake ya. Went to buy some wrapping paper”

As Wayne placed the gifts one by one under the tree, a sleepy Eddie realized his gifts had been rewrapped. No longer in plain shopping bags but in paper adorned with Rudolph and Santa.

“You didn’t have to do that, uncle Wayne”

Wayne shrugged. “Looks better this way”

From then on Christmas was celebrated by Eddie. Memories were made he’d never forget. Like, the time he and Wayne tried to make Christmas cookies, burned them, and then tried to salvage them with lots of icing. They could barely attempt to eat them through their fits of giggles over just how bad they were.

There was also the year Eddie, inspired by an old version of A Christmas Carol, placed tiny candles all over the tree and lit each one. Within moments the tree was on fire. “You’re gonna burn the trailer down, boy”, Wayne laughed as he and Eddie quickly filled glasses of water.

Anytime Eddie brought out his old Christmas photos of him and his mom, which admittedly was still rare, there was a third photo hidden away with them.

In a bright polaroid from Wayne’s beloved camera, an “I am too old for this” Eddie sits on Santa’s lap at the mall.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #wayne munson #uncle wayne munson #my fics

[zomb1eturtlez]

"At the risk of stating the obvious, no woman can mate with a bull and produce a child. Recognizing this simple scientific fact, I am led to a somewhat interesting suspicion: King Minos did not build the labyrinth to imprison a monster but to conceal a deformed child, his child.

While the Minotaur has often been depicted as a creature with the body of a bull but the torso of a man, centaur-like, the myth describes the minotaur as simply having the head of a bull and the body of a man, or in other words, a man with a deformed face. I believe pride would not allow Minos to accept that the heir to the throne had a horrendous appearance.

Consequently, he dissolved the right of ascension by publicly accusing his wife Pasiphae of fornicating with a male bovine.

Having enough conscience to keep from murdering his own flesh and blood, Minos had a labyrinth constructed, complicated enough to keep his son from ever escaping but without bars to suggest a prison. (It is interesting to note how the myth states most of the Athenian youth "fed" to the Minotaur actually starved to death in the Labyrinth, thus indicating their deaths had more to do with the complexity of the maze and less to do with the presumed ferocity of the Minotaur.)

I am convinced Minos' maze really serves as a trope for repression. My published thoughts on this subject (see "Birth Defects in Knossos"Sonny Won't Wait Flyer, Santa Cruz, 1968) inspired the playwright Taggert Chielitz to author a play called *The Minotaur* for The Seattle Repertory Company. As only eight people, including the doorman, got a chance to see the production, I produce here a brief summary:

Chielitz begins his play with Minos entering the labyrinth late one evening to speak to his son. As it turns out, the Minotaur is a gentle and misunderstood creature, while the so-called Athenian youth are convicted criminals who were already sentenced to death back in Greece. Usually King Minos has them secretly executed and then publicly claims their deaths were caused by the terrifying Minotaur thus ensuring that the residents of Knossos will never get too close to the labyrinth. Unfortunately this time, one of the criminals had escaped into the maze, encountered Mint (as Chielitz refers to the Minotaur) and nearly murdered him. Had Minos himself not rushed in and killed the criminal, his son would have perished. Suffice it to say Minos is furious. He has caught himself caring for his son and the resulting guilt and sorrow ineeses him to no end. As the play progresses, the King slowly sees past his son's deformities, eventually discovering an elegiae spirit, an artistie sentiment and most importantly a visionary understanding of the world. Soon a deep paternal love grows in the King's heart and he begins to conceive of a way to reintroduce the Minotaur back into society. Sadly, the stories the King has spread throughout the world concerning this terrifying beast prove the seeds of tragedy. Soon enough, a bruiser named Theseus arrives (Chielitz describes him as a drunken, virtually retarded, frat boy) who without a second thought hacks the Minotaur into little pieces. In one of the play's most moving scenes, King Minos, with tears streaming down his face, publicly commends Theseus' courage. The crowd believes the tears are a sign of gratitude while we the audience understand they are tears of loss. The King's heart breaks and while he will go on to be an extremely just ruler, it is a justice forever informed by the deepest kind of agony."

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

pg. 110-111

#house of leaves #hol #mark z danielewski #king minos #minotaur #the minotaur

[akajustmerry]

haven't done this in a longggg while! here's a round-up of some faves I've written over the last few months!

“I Carry Their Experiences In My Heart”: Patrick Abboud On Investigating Australia’s Only Gay Prison - an interview with gay Lebanese-Australian journalist and author Patrick Abboud on his 5-year-long investigation into Australia's only gay prison.

How The ‘Succession’ Finale Takes The Roys Back To The Beginning - explaining how the Succession grand finale paralleled the pilot.

Why ‘The Great’ Is So Great? Because It Feels Australian - analysing how Hulu's The Great is secretly, philosophically, very Australian.

‘Ted Lasso’ Is Officially Out Of Its Depth - explaining how Ted Lasso as a show grossly mishandles the stories of its marginalised characters.

Will White People’s “Didgeridoo” Jokes Ever End? - why I am sick of non-Aboriginal peoples making our sacred instrument into their punchline.

The Wes Anderson Trend And TikTok’s Tendency To Forget About Context - discussing TikTok's culture of context collapse, using the Wes Anderson trend as a case study!

Succession’s Masterful Vibe Check - My review of 'America Decides' and analysis of how 'Succession' generally inspires conflicting empathy and disgust in viewers.

How To Degender Award Shows, According To A Very Serious Non-Binary Person - what it says on the tin. Just me having fun imagining how we could de-gender award shows.

The Strange, Surreal Feeling Of Going About Your Day While The World Crumbles - Explaining what "hyper-normalisation" is and why so many people think they're feeling it right now.

#succession #ted lasso #wes anderson #aboriginal #lgbt #gender #writing #tv #film #/

[antiquitea]

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫.

pairing: john "bucky" egan x gale "buck" cleven

summary: while resting during the march from the stalag to the train, gale helps john sleep. after the war, john returns the favour.

warnings: mature, minors do not interact! semi-public sex, hand jobs, frottage, ptsd, and the horrors of war.

word count: 3.7k

author's notes: i am cross eyed from banging this out over the course of a couple of hours save for a couple of paragraphs. i didn't think i could do this anymore. apparently i just need sunshine and the largest iced coffee that i can stomach before barfing to fuel me.

many thanks to @swifty-fox for yelling at me in all caps while i wrote this. shout out to laura marling's "night terror" for being a loose inspiration and letting me steal both the title and a lyric even if she doesn't know i did that.

» read on ao3

February 1945

Gale couldn’t sleep.

Both in the sense that he agreed to stay awake, and even if he could have slept, he wasn’t sure that he would have been able to. They’d found an abandoned farm house to take shelter in for the night between leaving the stalag and heading to wherever their next destination was, and while it assisted in keeping the snow out, it did nothing to protect himself and the rest of the men from the bitter cold.

John had, in a moment of brilliance, grabbed a blanket before they left, and the two men made good use of it, as threadbare as it was. The two men huddled together beneath it, using each other for warmth more so than the blanket itself. Dire as their circumstances were, they were both silently and secretly grateful for the excuse to get closer together out in the open; they were not the only two cuddling for warmth. “Weather purposes” as John had put it.

“I can’t sleep,” John grumbled into Gale’s chest.

Gale’s jaw clicked, his eyes fixed on the German soldier who stepped over bodies in various states of slumber and wakefulness as he made his rounds. “Try, John,” he murmured quietly, chin resting on top of his friend’s head. “It’ll be my turn soon and I don’t want to hear your bellyaching.”

John snorted, and despite the layers of clothing between them, Gale could feel the way his lips quirked upward into a small smile against him.

The upside to being a prisoner of war, with every single day and night being a test of their ability to survive? Being able to be close to one another, like this, with no judgment. They weren’t the only ones holding one another for warmth, the only ones who shared a bunk from time to time back at the stalag. That they couldn’t have this elsewhere without someone raising eyebrows was terribly unfair.

The downside? Everything else.

Gale didn’t have the heart to tell John that he had actually nodded off for a couple of hours already. He knew that their sleep had been dreamless and restless for over a year. And that was the best that anyone could hope for. The worst were of course the nightmares, the night terrors, men bolting upright in their bunks sweating, screaming.

He and John had been two of the lucky ones.

At least so far.

Gale’s hands idly soothed over John’s back, hoping that the gentle touch would lull him back to sleep. John shivered against him, and Gale couldn’t tell if it was from his touch or the cold. He hoped that it was the former, but the bitter cold was likely stronger than John’s desire for Gale and his touch.

In the depths of his mind, he liked to imagine that they were back stateside, before John shipped out, bed sheets tangled around them, touching one another slow, sweet, soft. Not the hurried manner which they went about it all since Gale had arrived in England. They stole moments together whenever they could, no longer afforded the luxury of time. At least in the stalag they could make excuses for being close to one another, sharing a bed.

If anyone saw anything, no they hadn’t. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have said anything.

“S’nice,” John mumbled against Gale’s throat, as strong, sure hands rubbed over his back.

“I know,” Gale said, eyes darting about to make sure that there were no other eyes on them. If there were, they weren’t scrutinizing enough for him to take notice. The other men were too busy trying to keep themselves warm and sleep as well, the guards not truly giving a damn, concerned with their own warmth as well.

“Lower,” John said, his fingers curling in Gale’s thick coat. “And in the front as opposed to the back.”

Gale stilled for a moment, and then bumped John’s forehead with his own. “I know you’re not that foolish.”

“Maybe I am,” John retorted. He inhaled sharply, exhaled shakily. “You know it puts me to sleep. If that truly is your end goal here, Buck.”

He looked around once more, before meeting John’s gaze. “Are you crazy?” Gale hissed, teeth clenched. “Your insatiable damn lust will get us both killed.”

John smiled sadly, then ducked his head and nuzzled at Gale’s throat. “We’re as good as dead already, sweetheart.”

Even it was the truth, Gale wanted to continue foolishly believing that there still might be a shred of hope. That their stories didn’t end with them receiving bullets between the eyes, left to rot wherever the Germans saw fit. That he and John might live to see a few more sunrises, that they might see the end of the war, that they might go back home.

Despite Gale’s optimism, it seemed less and less likely that he would know anything but this ever again.

Gale watched as a guard literally stepped over his and John’s bodies to get to the front of the building, and for the moment he froze, waiting for them to pass. He turned his head, his back to the entrance of the farm house, and watched as the majority of the men tasked with guarding them stepped outside. There was a brief flicker of fire from a lighter, the flame passed around until all three cigarettes were lit. Gale turned back toward John, looking into his dark blue eyes, heavy lidded with exhaustion, and something else that he had only ever shown to Gale.

Neither of them spoke of it.

Gale pulled the glove off of one of his hands, and John shifted in front of him, wriggling excitedly. It was a moment later when Gale realized that it wasn’t excitement, it was John undoing his pants and pushing layers of fabric up, down, out of the way. Gale held John’s gaze as he spat discreetly into his palm, and John’s lips parted with a soft sigh before he caught his bottom lip between his teeth.

“For once in your life, be quiet,” Gale rasped, his hand disappearing beneath the blanket.

That insufferable, wolfish grin passed over John’s features, and if Gale was going to die that night he could think of no sweeter death than while making the man in front of him feel pleasure and happiness one last time.

Through the layers of clothing, his own and John’s, Gale’s fingers finally, blissfully, wrapped around John’s cock. Gale watched as John bit his lip so hard that for the moment he was terrified that his teeth would go through it. So focused had they been on their plan, on trying to make it out of the stalag alive, that they hadn’t found the time to do little more than give each others’ hand a squeeze in passing. Too long had it been since either of them had known the touch of the other somewhere a little more intimate.

“Quiet,” Gale reminded as he watched John’s lips part in a soft gasp.

“I know. I know,” John whispered hurriedly, before pressing his face into the long, delicate column of Gale’s throat. There had been a scarf in his way; Gale had felt John bite it to shift it out of his way.

Gale reminded himself that he needed to be quiet. The brush of John’s lips against his throat, an errogneous spot for him (that John had figured out, incidentally), had him wanting to roll onto his back, haul John on top of him, and arch beneath him until they both came, chasing a pleasure that they had never been rightly afforded, one that they were frightened to come to terms with perhaps never having again.

Some other time, perhaps.

Gale flexed his fingers, stiff from the cold, but thawing so close to the warmth of John’s body. John’s cock was thick, heavy, in his palm, just as it always had been. The normalcy of the act, despite the horror of the location, comforted Gale in a way that he hadn’t anticipated, and he let out his own quiet sigh, which he pressed into the knit cap that John wore.

He longed to press his face into those soft, wild, dark curls that he had come to love in the years since he’d met John.

“Buck,” John rasped against his throat, bringing him back from where he drifted off to. A place where they could be warm, soft.

Safe.

“I’m here,” Gale whispered, droplets of damp in John’s cap catching against his lips. The sickly sweet scent of John’s sweat, his musk, filled Gale’s nostrils, and his free hand clutched at the back of John’s coat.

John’s hips twitched against Gale’s fingers, his body, trying to move with him, trying to chase the high that he was so desperately seeking, that Gale was desperate to give to him. His lips were parted against Gale’s pulse point, attempting to quietly gasp for air, dropping tender kisses that were so warm that threatened to burn Gale alive. He welcomed it.

Gale dragged his spit along John’s shaft, thumb collecting the precome that gathered at the head and smeared it over his length. John muffled a soft, desperate sound against Gale’s skin, damp with sweat from the effort of trying to be quiet, be still, of finally discovering some manner of warmth, before lifting his head slightly, to peer over Gale’s shoulder.

“Hurry,” was all he said, and Gale knew that outside the butts of cigarettes were being stomped out beneath boots, that they were running out of time.

“Five seconds,” Gale gasped, before swallowing thickly. John had met his gaze, held it, and Gale swallowed past both a lump in his throat and a louder noise that threatened to escape. Gale flicked his wrist as John attempted to move quickly, and yet keep his movements imperceptible. “C’mon, John. You can do it.”

“Buck,” John breathed, lips centimetres from Gale’s. They both wanted it. But they couldn’t risk it. “Please.”

Gale had never heard John be so polite in all of the time that they knew one another. He craned his neck slightly and looked out of the corner of his eye, unable to see the Germans, but knowing that they were coming in from out of the cold.

“Five,” he whispered, turning back to John. His fingers, desperate to give John his release moved faster, and John chased them as best he could.

“Four.” Brushing against John’s balls, Gale could feel them draw up toward his body.

“Three.” Gale looked at John’s face, so fuckin’ happy to see his cheeks rosy with colour. He looked like he was burning up, too big, too warm for his skin. But it sure as hell beat the alternative that they currently faced.

“Two.” John’s eyelids began to slip closed, eyes rolling toward the back of his skull, head tipped back slightly, lips parted. Gale knew the expression that John wore as he came better than he knew how to fly a B-17.

“One.” Gale felt John’s spend slipping through his fingers, hot, sticky, and abundant. John’s lips were parted in a silent cry, as he carefully bucked his hips toward Gale’s touch.

In that moment Gale had been incredibly proud of John, mostly quiet throughout it all save for a few whispers and gasped breaths. He was an extremely noisy lover, and short of having something stuffed in his mouth could always be counted on to be loud. Even when discretion was key. John seemed to think that Air Force wouldn’t give a damn if he was a fairy, only one person flew planes better in his mind, and that was who he would be undoubtedly be found with.

Spent, John pressed himself against Gale, and his trembling body could easily be explained away with the cold. Gale held him close, eyes on the guards as they began to filter back into farm house, not daring to move, even if he could feel John’s come cooling and congealing on his hand. He was already absolutely filthy. If anyone noticed the slightly sweet smell of come, no one acknowledged it.

Gale managed to worm his hand out from under clothing, the blanket, and brought it to his mouth, licking and sucking his fingers clean. Not in an attempt to be seductive, but to clean himself. If John noticed, he didn’t say a word, instead looked down as he put his cock away, did his pants back up.

Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Gale pulled it up toward their chins, hoping his own movements would mask John’s. Satisfied with the state of himself, John glanced back up at Gale, giving him a fond smile. Gale managed one back.

“Roll over,” John murmured. “You can be the little spoon for once.”

Despite himself, Gale managed a small smile of his own, thoughts momentarily shifting toward a dear friend, who had once been John’s big spoon. It hadn’t been that long ago that the three of them had laughed into the phone together, and yet it might as well have been another lifetime.

Gale did as he was told, John’s strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him back against his chest. This way, Gale could keep an eye on the front door, on more of the men. The only downside of this position, as far as he was concerned, was that he could not see John’s face. He wasn’t sure how much longer that he would have the opportunity to commit it to memory, as if he hadn’t already.

He felt John’s body go lax against his, heard him snore into his shoulder, and smiled.

-

October 1945

John couldn’t sleep.

He often couldn’t. It was too quiet. He had gotten used to noise, whether it be the sounds of dozens of other men sleeping around him, bullets, bombs, and bigotry. It had been five long years of never being alone, to suddenly the sound of silence becoming a deafening thing.

Sitting up in their bed, knees to his chest, arms resting atop them, John corrected himself. He wasn’t alone.

John turned his attention from the moon hanging outside of their window to the restless figure beside him. Whatever sleep Gale had lost during the war, he was trying to find it in the house that they shared in Kansas. Not Wisconsin, not Wyoming. A fresh start, where no one knew them. They could be anonymous, buy a plot of land in the middle of nowhere. Fix up an old house that had been lost to time. Two friends who had come back from the war, no longer used to being alone, needing the other to help quiet the noise in their head.

Tender as the thoughts of a quiet life together made him, it was Gale’s agitated frame that had John watching his lover like a hawk.

He knew what came next, and preferred to be awake for it instead of startled out of his sleep, feet on the creaky, old hardwood floors before his eyes had fully opened.

Gale bolted upright, screaming.

Had he been in his right mind, Gale would have known what came next as well. They had discussed it at length in the daylight, when the ghosts more or less left Gale alone.

The bed clothes fell away from John’s body as he straddled Gale’s thighs, large hands first on his shoulders, carefully anchoring him, bringing him back to the present, then moving to his back, drawing him closer. One hand mooring Gale against him, the other cradling the back of his head, bringing his face to the juncture where his shoulder and neck met. Gale would press his face into John’s shoulder until the screams subsided, sometimes turning into choked off, broken sobs, sometimes turning into ragged breaths. But always turning into a mumbled, “I’m sorry, John.”

To which John would always say, “Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

Had it truly been not even a year since the stalag? All of the horrors that they had seen, experienced?

Gale lifted his head, and John’s thumb swept over his cheeks, gathering the damp that leaked from his eyes. Neither of them were too proud to shy away from tears, their own and each other’s, at least with one another. Gale looked up at John pathetically, blue eyes wide, bright, and wet with unshed tears that he blinked away as quickly as he could.

“It’ll get better, won’t it?” Gale asked the older man, voice thick.

John’s mouth formed a thin line and he sighed. Neither of them knew. It didn’t stop Gale from asking.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gale whispered, his hands reaching up and tangling in John’s hair, touching at his face.

“Look at you like what?” John asked, tilting toward Gale’s desperate and frantic touch. He knew what his love was doing; ensuring that he was still there, ensuring that he was real.

“Like I’m off my loop,” Gale replied, his eyes searching John’s.

“Think I’ll take you to the laughing farm if you are?” John asked, leaning in closer to Gale’s face.

Gale closed the distance between them, kissing John frantically. It was less a kiss, more Gale smashing their lips together so hard that John worried he might have chipped a tooth. His own or John’s.

“Don’t torment me,” Gale pleaded, and John instantly felt bad for attempting to soothe Gale’s mind with his usual antics.

John didn’t apologize, Gale hated it when he did, despite having done it moments ago himself. “What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked. The sentence hadn’t truly been completed, Gale’s mouth seeking out his again, the remainder of it dying between their lips.

“Make me forget them,” Gale replied, fingers searching for purchase against John’s chest, finding it in warm skin, wiry, dark curls. “Keep the ghosts away.”

Wrapping his arms around Gale’s slender frame, John pushed him back down onto their bed, covering Gale’s body with his own. His mouth descended upon Gale’s, forcing his lips apart with his tongue, licking inside until the tip of his tongue brushed against Gale’s molars. Gale clutched at his arms desperately, one leg hooking over his hip in attempt to keep him close, to keep him from moving away.

As if there were any place else in the world than John wanted to be than in a falling apart house in Kansas, wrapped up in the sheets and limbs of the man that he loved.

John felt Gale’s cock hard against his hip, and began to reach down between their bodies, only to have Gale’s long, elegant fingers wrap around his wrist. John lifted his head, alarmed, to find Gale shaking his head.

“No,” he rasped. “Not like that.”

Instead of asking what Gale would have preferred, John waited for Gale to show him. Gale reached between them, and John had half a mind to bat Gale’s hand away, but the thought turned to soup when Gale wrapped his fingers around John’s prick, guiding it against his own. John rolled his hips tentatively, face searching Gale’s for approval. Gale closed his eyes, breathless, and nodded. John repeated the motion, and was rewarded with the sweet sound of Gale’s moan.

In the middle of nowhere, they could be as loud as they wanted. They made up for the farm house, the stalag, the barracks, and everywhere else they had ever muffled the sounds that they made.

John moved slowly at first, cock already so wet just from the mere thought of even having Gale against him, grinding against his lover. Gale’s arms went around him, clutching at him, blunt edges of fingernails digging into his back, leaving crescent moon indentations in their wake. To go with all the other crescent moon indentations that he had left in recent days, nights.

Gale, not satisfied with sweet and slow, bucked beneath John, encouraging him to move faster, harder, letting out an annoyed little grunt at not being given what he wanted, impatient in his desire. Desire to feel pleasure, desire to forget.

“I’ve got you,” John breathed, hips snapping forward. He was rewarded with Gale’s sharp gasp, his body responding in kind. “Buck, I’ve got you.”

Gale smeared his mouth over John’s jawline, the days old stubble that he hadn’t bothered to shave, partially out of laziness, mostly out of Gale’s request. Evidently, he loved the burn. John’s eyelids fluttered shut, the leg draped over his hip urging him closer, even if there was nowhere for him to go.

John dragged his cock through the pool of gathering precome in Gale’s blonde pubic hair, his own mixed with Gale’s. Bracing one hand against the bed, the other tangled in Gale’s hair. Gale’s eyes, which had been closed, opened to meet John’s in a hazy gaze, begging him to not look away. John gave Gale a brusque nod, grunting as they moved together. Despite its desperateness, erraticness, it was a rhythym that they have perfected, one that was theirs.

Grunting, John movements became frenzied, and Gale’s lips fell open in soft, short gasps, head tipped back against the pillows. John was overcome with the urge to both bite at, and protect Gale’s vulnerable throat, tipping his head forward and mouthing along the pulse point that he had found so many times before.

“John. John,” Gale gasped, his lover’s name a mantra on his lips as his body tensed. He came beneath John with a cry that it sounded like he might asphyxiate on, coming across his own belly and chest.

John tumbled wordlessly after, moaning into Gale’s throat, tongue and teeth marking their rightful place against his skin, damp with sweat.

They laid there together in their bed, John’s body still atop Gale’s, pinning him, giving him the weight that he knew that Gale desperately craved. Gale’s touch over John’s arms became feather light, tender, bringing him back from the edge of the intensity that they had just experienced together. John turned his head, kissing at Gale’s fingertips, looking into the eyes of man fucked back toward the edge of sleep.

Satiated. Happy.

Safe.

“If they want you,” John whispered, lips still dancing over Gale’s fingers, “they’re going to have to fight me.”

/end.

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #john egan x gale cleven #john bucky egan x gale buck cleven #john egan #gale cleven #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #clegan #antiquitea.fic #bucky x buck

[callmecrazy4u2]

Yandere! HSR & Genshin Guys x Fan! Reader: Wriothesely, Zhongli, Jing Yuan 'Bird' reader

When you are in love different sides of love show…but when you stop being lovestruck and give up how far will the guys go to get it back and make you theirs again….

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley- Bird & Dog- Humor smut fluff some yandere. Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Anxious Artist Readera! x Art Critic!Yandere! Zhongli- Coworkers-Bird & Snake- A Portrait of Morax: Phoenix & Dragon - workplace romance, courting, crush, yandere, manipulation

Shy! Baker- Bird & Lion- Jing Yuan - fav customer, manipulation, first crushes, fluff smut

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley: Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Synopisis: A flirty prisoner trades slang with the guard and prisoners secretly teasing the Wriothesly the prison warden. As they have a crush but too shy to act on so resort to flirting badly as a joke. However Wriothesley does get the slang one day and reader is sure to pay…..

Hey warden where you at? With those Muffins….

“Wriothesly why not Wrio slay bae ~”

Yo got he got the whole bakery 

“Buns in the back do slap"

“Oh a Joke show me then what you mean? Or am I not the dog of meriopoide or is it you?”- Wriothesly

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley

Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Synopisis: A flirty prisoner trades slang with the guard and prisoners secretly teasing the Wriothesly the prison warden. As they have a crush but too shy to act on so resort to flirting badly as a joke. However Wriothesley does get the slang one day and reader is sure to pay…..

Hey warden where you at? With those Muffins….

“Wriothesly why not Wrio slay bae ~”

Yo got he got the whole bakery 

“Buns in the back do slap” cleverly offered Reader delivering a tongue twister and a euphemism all in one. 

The laughter fell to quiet among the frozen fellow prisoners. A shadow hovering above readers head. Literally as the  shadow of the very person they were teasing was behind them

“Ahem and what are we doing here? Tapping a foot Wriothesly the prison warden questioned them with hands crossed looking intimidating though normally laid back…

“Making fun of your superior you do know I’m the warden right?” He continued with knit brows. 

“Um All in good fun my lord duke warden wriothesly” you stuttered. 

“I don’t mind some jokes I can take them but what do you mean by buns”

The rest had scattered cowards. 

“Um “ You might die from embarrassment 

“N-nothing sir”

“I guess this calls for interrogation then until you spit it out” he said Wriothesley  spinning his cuffs and clapping them on you to drag you off. 

Wriothesly blue eyes flash with hint of teeth predatorily looming over you in secluded hallway tp the staircase to the interrogation room you guessed. 

“This is  an abuse authority!” you protested stumbling behind him in the prison corridors 

“One last chance tell me me or…” he trailed off menacingly 

 Wriothesly pressed up against you in the corridor hallway. Unable to escape your were restrained cuffed to him and pressed up against the cold  wall. You were warmed only by his body heat. 

“They were all compliments”  you blurted out face burning eye squeezed shut in fear. 

Wriothesly was generally was tolerant with prisoners given the welfare meals and boxing games he’d play. Perhaps teasing him was too far and felt like he lost respect 

“Good job”  he pats your head with smile as you sink in relief but are pulled into the room to your dismay squeezing eye shut in fear.

“Now tell me the rest” Wriothesly’s hand guides you unwilling to what you thought was the interrogation room but instead his plush office. 

You blink in surprise and shock as he proffers a teacup to you 

“Sooo who stopping me from having someone over for tea? Wriothesly cocked his head a sly teasing smile he wasn’t serious was he?

He just wanted in on the gossip and for you to spill the tea. 

“No one— er you  that is you ….assets” you gulp  truth spilling out voice small with his feirce interested star like a dog wanting treats.

Wriothesly cocked his head like dog pricking up it’s ears amused to see you stumble to reiterate it as politely as possible 

He approached with a tired sigh. A hand cupping  around your to force you to look at him as he leaned in close enough to kiss to your mortified thoughts

“Oh do continue “ Wrio said going lower teasing as you realized he knew all along he was just teasing you!

Wrio held your arm up to his arm up to his own sitting beside you on the couch. Knees and arms touching as you were cuffed still by one arm. 

The warmth of his breath and his chest pressing to your back as you blushed. 

“This is what you wished right?” Wrio inquires as you Shake in anticipation fear as desire burns with humiliation. 

“Err it was joke “ you stammer embarrassed  and breathing heavily in shock unsure what would happen next or if you would want it or not.

Wrio grabbed gently but firmly and pushed you to fall face forward on his office couch “Time for interrogation then” he amusedly said as you sprawled hand and knees on the couch. 

“ Well,then play around with me a bit more hmmm?” A curious head tilt like a dog the eager blue of his eyes cutting into you. As Wrio pulled you up by the chin to look at him 

“Entertain me” Wrio hums assessing your eyes for lies. You crane your head  to look at him from where he  towering above you prepared to do god knows what what. Something Good or bad? 

“Show me what you want”  he says tipping your chin with boot as you like lip nervously to mirror you in anticipation.

“Or am I not the dog of meriopoide or is it you?”  Yandere Wrio mocked .

000 Cut where out should be smut lol 0000

So dive in …. And eat that bakery hun…. Lol 

Wrio Smut in a previous post for those thirsty for more~

Or 

you hesistate from there Wrios stops hand up

 “haha Just A Joke….just don’t let me hear other calling me that again” with a laugh and ruffle of you hair from you kneeling stepping away returning to his jokester self. 

“But nothing, about you doing it~” he says with a wink as you gape. 

Artist! X Yandere! Admirer! Zhongli : The Bird & The Snake

 If art was priceless 

What about the artist?- Zhongli/Morax/Rex Lapis 

Synopsis: A starving artist takes a job at the funeral parlor and finds inspiration for their first portrait, the god Morax when seeing their muse as funeral consultant coworker Zhongli.  

Unbeknownst, to Artist Reader, their coworker is the geo lord himself in disguise. Zhongli notices their art in an auction mostly landscapes of Liyue which he buy up and eventually finds the Morax portrait. 

The artist!reader rises to fame so tries to quit job at funeral parlor to pursue art, but Rex Lapis won’t let them break the contract so easily…..after finding out they are the artist they adore.

As for a contract….How about we make another one, dear artist?

You may look and draw as much you want dear. 

As long, as your eyes are mine alone- Rex Lapis 

Artist! Reader POV x Zhongli

The doodles in your planner and sketches of his figures hurriedly hidden before you knew it. His beauty undeniable in the dying light. 

Zhongli was well known as an art critic and while you’d love to receive a favorable opinion. 

A bad one would crush you and any hopes and dreams of being an artist. 

Zhongli was such a perfectionist you didn’t dare show him any of your art for fear of it being rejected. 

Especially, of the ones you did of him idly in your planner when you were enamored by his beauty….

You couldn’t even draw him properly. You were too embarrassed and as a person you needed his permission to draw him….but….Morax a god based on the statues was fair game not like you would ever meet him….

It just happened to be your artistic decision that he looked a little like your coworker….after all not that you ever same though uncanny similar build or so you fantasized. 

Not like you could see underneath his — you shook your head bit let fantasy run wild with a portrait of Morax instead

Still uncanny, they looked alike or was that just your silly crush?

Zhongli POV

—— 

A diligent worker but shy. Hu Tao’s antic salways seems to run off most employees. However, you were kind, calm and didn’t seem bothered by the director’s eccentricities. 

Solid as rock

Perhaps that was drew him to you. That and your graceful delicate movements rearranging papers or sketching out coffin ideas. 

Zhongli appreciated your refined sense of style and tasteful choices in decor.

Zhongli enjoyed the endless art discussions over lunch breaks that you seem to appreciate when others dropped off halfway through his monologuing. 

—

Zhongli was an admirer of your landscapes of Liyue. The mundane made beautiful through few precise strokes. 

Zhongli swelling with pride at what Liyue had become as encapsulated in the eyes of an artist and made into reality. 

Zhongli was connoisseur and a collecter. So he of course bought all your artwork no matter the cost. A bidding war began and well those he could not acquire he found a way he was a god after all…

 If art was priceless 

What about the artist?

-----

“Why don’t you just kiss already” Hu Tao broke in to her glee and exasperation at your slow romance. A realization that broke Zhongli's resolve and shoes light that you were the artist he admired and one he liked.

After careful contemplation, Zhongli realizes he likes you and is just as stubborn as a rock when he resolves to court you. 

However the traditions Zhongli uses for dating are so ritualistic old and esoteric that you do not realize that is what he is doing but appreciate the gestures….

The frequent lunches and dinners to talk about work that are dates in disguise…

Zhongli gifting a knotted red charm with jade for luck in marriage. 

Zhongli insisting they exchanging a Phoenix hairpin exchange for a dragon handkerchief present around New Years. 

----

Zhongli finds ithe protight of moraz after you decide to sell the morax painting after consideration the buyer is willing pay alot . ENough you coudl retire and continue painting and pursue yoru but unease teh loss of painting what liklihood hoo perosn based off it would find it?

You owe this mystery buyer and art critic alot too as your painting have gain fame and critical acclaim due to thier eye.

so you trun in you resignation.

"You cannot go" Zhongli Firmly said.

"You see me, as I truly am after all , you can accept all may flaws and facets. And see the true me behind the disguise" he hummed mysteriously as Zhongli revealed the morax painting you drew

"wh-where did you get that?" you gasped embarrassed.

"Would you consider a new contract perhaps?" . Now looking at him stunned and frightened with new eyes. Zhongli your coworker and funeral consultant who you crushed on was Morax, the god of contract and you had just broken one....

He continued taking you chin carefully with his fingertip to stare with serpentine golden eyes.

A Phoenix in dragons trap more like a bird in snakes nest the coils constricting tighter slowly without notice until asphyxiated.

As for a contract….How about we make another one, dear artist?

You may look and draw as much you want dear. 

As long, as your eyes are mine alone- Rex Lapis 

. 

Yandere! Zhongli POV x Artist! Reader: The bird & the Lion

Admirer! Baker! Reader x Yandere Jing Yuan

Cat & Bird Bakery

How sweet you are and the sweets you bake

It always warms my heart, Can I have taste?

You offered first after all. - Jing Yuan 

Synopsis: Yandere!Jingyuan a weathered war hero, finds respite in a quiet teashop where the baker is a fan of his and treats him on the house. He continued likening the baker to a shy bird flitting about tables to help as a people pleaser.

Jing Yuan POV

Jing Yuan is amused at how clumsy she gets with him around. His beauty distracted her to stare at him from the corner of her eye with an evident crush. He continues visiting the teahouse to ease her to his presence. Until one day he falls asleep past closing time….Reader gets a blanket but he’s awake and has been watching her the entire time….feigning tiredness to stay after hours…

“No need for that my dear I’m awake. I’ve been watching you the whole time” 

Jing Yuan, yawns a flash of lion's teeth and golden eye. Now a hungry lion fixed on the helpless bird...

“I’m tired from work today and home is far away….”

Jing Yuan, lazily slowly meaningfully catching your hand to his and pressing it to his cheek nuzzling it so you cannot escape. 

“Um  you should get some rest its err past closing time” awkward fumbling emabrrassed being so close and handling your hand. 

Jing Yuan blinked, slowly, lazily his hungry golden gaze freezing you in place and silencing your complaints before melting into a fervent pleading soft stare. 

“Do you have somewhere I could take a nap?”

There was no way you would refuse him right? 

Not the hero, the general of the loufu….

 The prey he had been eyeing all along. 

Slowly but surely he’d consume you in your entirety. 

His little bird. 

--

The Bird & The Dog lol more crack pair funny now relief

Concept idea

Because while reader is an obsessed fan have you ever heard never meet your heros? Fantasy is much different from reality….and in reality no one wants a yandere….

The stalker becomes the stalked sorta situation get what coming for em lol by time reader gets over the crush the crush reciprocates too late… 

this become softer more recipircl than i thought but slight possievive obseeseive yandere love tinge if not mutual

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