#lid rejuvenation

[verinarin]

Romcon Fluff | Ratio accidentally drinks your Love Serum ?!? | Tried to make this into a oneshot but I think it needs 2 more chapters, wdyt shall I continue?

Ruan Mei You accidentally made Veritas fell in love with you and he dislikes this festering feeling you have brought to him

support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ruan Mei is one of your closest friends, yet you rarely meet her since most of the time she’s off somewhere pursuing her lifelong pursuit of divinity, yet she never missed gifting you presents for your birthday.

You smile as you carefully untie the silk ribbon on your present, you can’t help but guess whatever is inside is a bottle of perfume because you could already inhale the sweet scent before even opening the intricate wooden box

Once you lift the lid it reveals a beautifully carved glass vial filled with a lavender-coloured liquid, you carefully examine the shimmering liquid in awe, it smells so sweet like a cherry blossom cake, you notice a light blue envelope inside the box

You carefully place the vial back to read open the envelope, there’s a beautifully written letter addressed to you, her sincerest friend

“Dearest friend of mine, Happy belated birthday. Now I have prepared this gift of mine long before your birthday but since I’m currently in the middle of nowhere I have deduced that It’ll reach your doorstep approximately 2 days late and for that, I apologise,” you smile as you read her letter, ah she’s still the same

Upon reading the 3-page long heartfelt letter Ruan Mei reveals that she has been making this rejuvenating serum for you since earlier this year, she said she used your DNA and modified it so for your birthday she gave you an enchantment serum of some sort

She said to pour it into a hot beverage and not too much since it’s a highly concentrated serum, so you decided to brew a cup of tea while you text her thank you. Okay so a little bit goes a long way, you slowly pour the serum into the tea when all of a sudden the bell into your apartment rings, it shakes you and accidentally makes you pour a lot more than you intended to

You quickly flip the vial and close its lid, you silently curse as you put the vial back and rush towards the door, you open the door with a pout on your face, now when you see the person behind it makes you more annoyed than before, Veritas Ratio in the flesh

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts and even my calls ?, your lack of response is going to cost us both substantial damage,” ah yes your assigned partner for the annual Intelligentsia Guild research showcase, where you and the narcissistic prick in front of you are assigned together by the committee

“Damage ?, I was just enjoying my birthday. Our research is not going to somehow dissipate into thin air if I enjoy some time for myself,” you groan, you want to slam your door into that handsome prick’s face, but you can’t because he’ll sue you

He scoffs while looking down on you, without any hesitation he slides into your apartment, at this point you want to just pounce over him, but thankfully you’re in a good mood because your tea is waiting for you-

That entitled motherfucker—

When you turn your body you see him blissfully sipping on your tea, like he’s entitled to it, “Hmm this tea is exquisite, the colour is stunning too where did you get this from ?” he asks as he swirls the cup, your cup

“Veritas Ratio that was my birthday present ?!!” you yell as you storm towards him, you try to pry his hands away from your tea but sadly he’s way taller than you, “Well then I need you to tell the person that gifted you this tea to tell me where they acquire such complex tea blend,”

You’re fuming, you swear that there’s smoke coming off your head like some sort of chimney, he notices this and weirdly he thinks you’re cute, he can’t believe that his heart just skipped a beat when you pout at him, what an unusual feeling

“Stop pouting, you’re making my heart palpitate faster than usual,” Veritas groans which surprised you, what the hell was he saying ?

“What the hell are you implying ?!”  you scan his face, somehow this man who is well known to be rude and disrespectful is blushing profusely, what the hell happened here ?!

“You !, can you stop looking that beautiful basking underneath the sunlight it bothers me, I hate it,” he can’t believe he just said that out loud, what the hell is happening with him

“H-huh ?!?, what the fuck is wrong with you Veritas, I rather have you yell at me for fucking up some calculations than whatever this is,” you shriek feeling slightly disgusted and oddly flattered ?!?

“Well do you think I have the slightest idea what made my mind suddenly throw out my rationale out of the window and replace it with you instead ?!,” okay this is starting to freak you out because this feels too real, way too real is this a dream, please be a dream

You start to lightly slap your face to snap yourself out of this horrific nightmare, “This is no dream, I suggest you start to be responsible over this,” he leans forward and reaches out to your hand, he presses it towards his beating heart, he’s serious about how fast it was palpitating-

“W-what do you mean responsible ?!?, for what h-huh ?,” you try to pull your hand away but to no avail, it’s like he glued it down on his firm chest

“For these festering feelings that I don’t enjoy having nor experiencing, it must’ve been the tea I drank because before this I was quite normal when it comes to staring at that captivating face of yours. No, I mean that horrid face of yours that someone enchanted when illuminated by the sun,” Oh nous, it can’t be that tea can it ?

Oh !, Ruan Mei what the hell did you gift ?. Veritas could see your face reduce to a state of emotionless, “Don’t ignore me fool !,” he mutters as he now guides your hand to rest his head against your palm

“S-stop acting weird,” you stutter on your words, your confidence has been drained and now you’re left with red-tinted cheeks, how frustrating

“Can’t help it, I just want you to notice my presence,” he mumbles against your palm, slightly kissing it while talking, Oh my nous, Ruan Mei needs to fix whatever this is or at this rate, he can’t perform his task as your research partner

“Okay okay I need to somehow make an antidote for you,” you take a deep breath trying to think of something, but how can you when he’s there watching you with those puppy eyes

“Please do because, to be frank, I’m extremely uncomfortable with the way I just want to kiss that pink lips of—“ before he can continue you slap his mouth shut with your palm

“Shut up !!, don’t utter any more nonsense, just get out of here and don’t come back until I find a way to fix whatever this is,” you quickly push him towards the door, he’s adamant about staying by making things harder for you

“Can’t I just wait here and assist you? I might miss you if you kick me out, I mean no of course I wouldn’t miss your brilliant mind what am I saying of course I’ll miss you,” this man needs to be stopped, you can’t handle the contradictions that he’s spewing

“What do I need to do for you to get out !,” you huff as you wipe away your sweat, this man weighs like those sculptures he makes

“A kiss on the lips should suffice,” he smirks, why did he smirk?!?, never mind that you can’t deal with this nonsense anymore, you quickly drag him by the collar and press your lips together within a second you pull away from the kiss leaving him happily dumbfounded, you took this chance to hurriedly push him out the door and lock it

What the hell just happened ?!?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader

[popamolly]

CAN WE PLEEEASE PRETTY PLEASE HAVE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES WITH THE VOX, ALASTOR, AND LUCI (AND ANYONE ELSE YOU WANT) AND SITTING ON THEIR LAP AND WHAT GOES DOWN FROM THERE (IM GOING INSANE)

have a nice day, love your writing, drink lotsa water!!!<3

៸៸ ﹟PLAYER NUMBER TWO!

characters. Vox, Alastor, Lucifer and Adam

warning. fem!reader, video game references, smut, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. i’m licking the plate clean at this idea because i just love it so much. thank you for the request anon, you’re so sweet and make sure you take care of yourself too, treat yourself to something nice! i added games to their personality so lmk what y’all think, did i match them correctly? also i have to say thank you sooooo much for 200+ followers??? like what??? i gotta come up with something very juicy for y’all. now enjoy sinners.

ALASTOR

“Ah!” The jumpscare from the scary game had you jolt in Alasto’s lap, making the usually cynical man grin down on your mischievously. You both had wanted to spend some quality time together by playing video games and of course Alastor picked the game, Tormented Souls.

Not only was it scary but it had a jumpscare at every damn left turn. It had gotten so bad to the point that you were sweating like a sinner in church— anticipating it, expecting it, and yet you still would jump. Though your lover Alastor had barely bat an eye to the scary bits as he controlled his character with delicate composure, progressing through the game with expertise.

Alastor wasn’t a saint, he had not only picked this game because it was scary but because he knew you would jump and every time you would squirm in his lap your hips would brush against his cock in the most delicious way. Call it a ploy to get you to grind on him or whatever you wanted to call it but he was too busy reaping the rewards of you in his lap during this gaming session, “Fuck!” You jumped again this time moving in such a way that you felt his hardening dick press against the panties that you wore, teasing you.

“Oh what is this my dear?” Alastor would grin, dropping his controller to grip your hips so he could force you grind on him. One thing led to another and you were moving your hips which such reckless abandon as he clothed cock just rubbed against your clit the right way, making your sopping pussy closer to an orgasm, “What a vixen you are! I barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet. How entertaining.”

VOX

You were sitting in Vox’s lap, the both of you indulging yourselves in playing video games to take a break from everything at the V tower until you both were freshly rejuvenated for the next day. Though playing Minecraft might not have been a good idea because it caused for more stress than relaxation for some, especially Vox. “Why the fuck are my chickens escaping?” “Did you make a fence?” “It won’t even follow me, the fuck?” “They will follow you if you hold seeds.” “Where the fuck do I get seeds?”

He’d be yelling in your ear but the sound of his voice right on your earlobe and neck made you shiver. Vox noticed this and couldn’t help but smirk, “You enjoying being in my lap, sweetheart?” You turn around in his arms so you could straddle his waist with a suggestive smile. Before you knew it Vox was digging in his fingertips so harshly into your hips as he controlled your movements, impaling you with his cock and enjoying the way your pleading words fell from your soft lips. He bounced you up and down his length not giving a damn if your just came already. “V-Vox! It’s too much! Please…! Ah, fuck!”

Your pussy sucked him in greedily, velvety wall clenching around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. Vox drank in your form like a pure alcoholic. The breathless pants escaping his mouth was barely enough to make coherent sentences as his mind swimmed with bliss. With half lidded eyes, he watched you bounce along his cock, his eyes drifting downwards to watch it stretch you impossibly wide as you sank back down with a loud moan, “Such a naughty girl, enjoying my cock like a little fucking whore. Now tell me while you bounce on my cock,” Vox was in your ear again, groaning loudly but kept his serious tone, “How do I keep my Minecraft chickens?”

LUCIFER

“(Y/N) I finally got Ketchup to complete my duck island, come look! She is soooo adorable!” Lucifer held out his Nintendo switch for you to see the duck villager move onto his island. Your boyfriend— the King of Hell was currently obsessed with having a duck only Animal Crossing island and instead of taking the easy route he had spent weeks in search of Ketchup in the game and thanks to him manifesting it for himself sure enough he found the infamous Ketchup the duck.

You place your own Nintendo switch down to crawl into his lap, full expecting just to be all cute and cuddly but Lucifer had other ideas. How could he focus on creating a duckie empire in his game when your ass rubbed on him in all the right places. The man had been alone for 7 years— surely you knew he lacked physical touch and intimacy for a long time and now? Oh now he was touch starved.

“Her design is to die for! Lucifer now that you finished you could—Lucifer..?” Your eyes widen slightly when you felt Lucifer reposition you two with ease. You were now on all fours with your ass on full display for him, you turned on your cheek to glance back at him with a teasing smile, “What are you doing, Lulu?”

“I think you know my love,” With a snap of his fingers your clothes dissolved into nothing but smoke, leaving you naked and completely at his mercy, “Now don’t be shy, open up for me.” Suddenly your moans were filling the room, bouncing off the walls, leaving you nothing but a drooling mess beneath Lucifer. His grip tightened around your waist, giving you slow and deep thrust that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The lewd, squelch! sound coming from your pussy echoing throughout the bedroom, sounding like a sinful melody to the Kings ears. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly as he hit that spot within you that made you arch your back more in desperate need for him to hit it again.

ADAM

“(Y/N) babe, I’m going to need you to stop shooting at the walls and actually shoot another player, please and thank you.” Adam was getting a bit annoyed with you during your gaming session of Call of Duty and it didn’t help that you were on his lap, blocking his own view— and getting himself distracted. Why did you have to sit in his lap again? Something about wanting to feel closer to him or whatever cheesy shit you said he wasn’t really paying attention. He was complaining about it but he just wanted to tease you, in reality he loved it, “Pay attention (Y/N), this is a team effort, can’t have you going down first, danger tits.”

Your back was to Adam’s chest and your boyfriend couldn’t help his cock straining against the fabric of his red apple print pajama shorts at the feeling of your warm cunt pressing against himself you didn’t mean it in the way but he took it that way. With a devious grin, he would bring his long slender fingers to rub your clothed sex teasingly, making you nearly jump slightly from the contact, “Adam—!”

“Focus on the game babe, I’m not doing anything.” Adam was such a liar. He had now snaked his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, groaning softly to himself upon making contact with your slick folds. He rubbed your clit making you completely submit to his ministrations with a soft moan, letting your body relax against him as you clutched the controller in your hand. Your toes curled and legs began to slightly close as Adam added a finger, then two, then three. “Spread your legs wider gorgeous, let me play with that pretty pussy.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

#hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel smut #𖤐popamolly #smut #𖤐popamollyposts #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbin vox #alastor the radio demon #alastor x female reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox smut #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader smut #y/n

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | vi.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

An eternity seems to fly by as you wait for Coriolanus to do what you’re too terrified to do on your own. During the agonizing minutes, you picture William’s face. The confusion, the hurt. Tears skip down your cheeks as you curl over the blankets, knees against your chest.

Hopefully your reckless actions haven’t ruined what you two have. Maybe one day, you’ll even jest about it, the pre-wedding jitters that caused you to hide for a week.

It’s the meager hope you cling onto as the soft tap on the door draws you from your thoughts.

Coriolanus nudges the door open, a silver tray between his hands. A matching porcelain kettle and cup sit on the tray.

The mattress sinks as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing the steaming teapot at your bedside. Your gaze drags over the colorful roses painted on the porcelain set. 

Tearful eyes rising to his face, you ask “H-How did it go?”

His long fingers drape over your cheek, wiping your tears as he smiles down at you. “Everything’s alright.” His deep soothing voice brings you comfort as it rolls over you. “Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, just like I promised you.” He collects the tea cup from the tray. The steam rising from it caresses your face.

“It’s my own personal blend of chamomile, peppermint and lavender, for your nerves.”

“I don’t need that.”

Concern sways in Coryo’s blue orbs, his thumb collecting another stray tear.

“You had an emotional day. It’ll help you sleep, trust me.”

You don’t reply, laying the side of your face against the pillow. Do you even deserve to sleep soundly after causing the people in your life so much unnecessary distress?

Maybe this is what you deserve, unending nights wrestling with your own mind while you drown in a river of your own tears. After all, if you hadn’t overindulged in alcohol that night, you wouldn’t be here. You still remember the way Coryo described it. Were you truly that desperate to bury Sejanus’ memory, to forget?

Coriolanus strokes the crown of your head.

“I just want you to get one good night of rest. You need it. Do you really want to spend the entire night torturing yourself when you’ve done nothing wrong?”

For a while, silence hangs between the two of you, Coriolanus letting you weep as he patiently cups your face. The aromatic scents of the herbs he mixed in the tea tickle your nose. You have to admit, it smells heavenly. Like peace. The thing you’re craving most at this very moment. For your thoughts and emotions to fall silent, allowing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.

So you surrender.

You sit up and graciously accept the cup Coryo offers you. As soon as the first few drops of the warm liquid coat your tongue, a heady, pleasant feeling swaddles your mind. It makes your body feel heavy, pleasant warm tingles swirling over your flesh.

“I’m starting to feel…”

Coryo’s beaming face starts blurring in your line of sight. Your grip on the cup weakens. He assists you in holding it, tipping the rim against your lips so you gulp another sip.

“Drink more. All of it.” You heed his instruction. The drowsiness grows tenfold. Your lids sag. Your body slumps over the pillows. You feel the soft brush of Coriolanus’s lips on your forehead. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

You awake from the best sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, a wide smile stretching over your lips as you unfurl from the sheets.

Unlike the nights before, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, crying or tossing and turning in bed.

You pivot to the sun rays spilling from between the curtains. You bask in the rejuvenating warmth kissing your skin. For a while, you stay like that, in awe that your mind isn’t crowded with anxious thoughts. Instead, you’re calm, rested, your head light as feathers. Even your grief is a faint noise when it’s usually so loud, its uproarious presence twisting your heart first thing most mornings. 

It’s a newfound serenity you haven’t known in many weeks.

Even the bone-deep ache sitting in your limbs cannot cast a pale on the day. As you step in the rose-scented bath that’s been drawn for you, the soreness lingers. You grimace a little.

Perhaps you slept so heavily, your entire body is tense from it.

But as you lie back and let the hot water work its magic, the pain starts to fade. You let the strange sensation melt away, smiling once more.

You enjoy your bath. A bright, wonderful day awaits you.

When you’re done, you put on one of your favorite day dresses and hop down the stairs.

You find the entire Snow clan having breakfast in the dining room.

Coriolanus peeks from above the morning paper, his face brightening as his gaze flicks over you.

As you approach the empty chair near Grandma’am, Coriolanus rises and pulls it for you.

“Good morning,” you chime while plopping into your seat.

Tigris beams at you. “Good morning. I see someone’s feeling better.”

You tuck your hands into your lap as a maid places a scrumptious plate of eggs and meat in front of you. Your stomach growls at the sight and you pick up your fork, excited to dig into the food. You haven’t had a proper meal since you left Ma and Dad’s house.

Although, even that is a fuzzy memory, as you can’t remember the last time all of you sat down and had a proper breakfast as a family since Janus passed away.

It’s been too hard.

Shoving the fork into your mouth, you acquiesce, “Much better.” You hum as the flavors melt on your tongue.

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip quirk as he observes you. He returns to his seat and bends forward.

“I take it you’ve had a restful night, princess?”

“Yes, and I have you to thank for that. I don’t know what’s in that tea exactly but it works wonders.”

“I’ve had the opportunity to experiment with many natural remedies while working under Dr Gaul.” A glint dances in his blue eyes. “Some plants have the most…fascinating benefits.”

“I think I’ll take some with me home, if you don’t mind. Not just for me but Ma has struggled with sleep ever since…”

Your voice dwindles as an abrupt wave of sadness passes over you.

Tigris grabs your hand and squeezes it across the table.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Coriolanus nods in agreement. “She’s right. Take it one day at a time, princess.”

You ponder what he just said. You are feeling markedly better today, but you loathe thinking about your mom and dad alone.

You swallow a wide lungful.

“Maybe I should go back home tomorrow.”

Coriolanus’ gaze narrows, his smile vanishing momentarily before sliding back into place.

“This early? Shouldn’t you rest a bit more first? It’s clear that you need it.” He studies you for a long time. “You can’t be here for others when you aren’t healed yourself.” You shudder. Sometimes the blond seems to possess the uncanny ability to peer right inside your head. He reaches over the table to place his hand over yours. “Don’t rush it. Like I told you before, our home is your home.”

You don’t find it in yourself to argue, Coriolanus’ gentle yet firm grip on your hand and his smile chasing away your doubts.

“O-Okay.”

Satisfaction glimmers in his gaze at your response.

As Coryo advises, you remain with his family a little while longer. Everyday, he finds gentle words to convince you to extend your stay. It doesn’t take much for you to believe him as you trust him fully, his caring demeanor reminding you of your brother. If Coryo thinks you need a bit more time, he must be right. He only wants what’s best for you.

So a few days turn into a week, which eventually becomes two weeks. Surprisingly, you and the Snows’ daily routines twine with ease. In the morning, you have breakfast together in the dining room. Then you tend to the roses with Grandma’am while she hums songs to herself, an endearing habit you’ve grown quite fond of.

And you usually spend the rest of the day with Tigris, chatting or playing board games, or on your own, reading most of the time. Coriolanus’ library is massive enough to rival the one you have at home. You never run out of things to do in the gigantic penthouse, even sometimes cleaning and cooking to pass the time, efforts Coriolanus never fails to praise you for.

Whenever he returns home to a spotless house or one of your delicious meals, his blue eyes light up with happiness.

And of course, at night, Coryo talks to you in your bed while you dutifully drink your tea, regaling you with stories about his apprenticeship and the University. Most of the time, you never get to learn how they end because you fall asleep.

Thanks to Coriolanus’ herbal mixture, your sleeping schedule is back to relative normalcy. The only downsides are the tea’s peculiar side effects, as near everyday you wake up sore and aching. But the slight inconvenience is minor compared to the benefits you’ve experienced.

All is good and well until one day glimpses of lost memories flash in your brain.

You’re starting to remember the night of Clemensia’s party.

It first happens as you’re gardening with Grandma’am. You’re watering one of the rose bushes when something rushes back to you, something so vivid the watering can in your hand clatters to the ground.

You stumble back, your breaths quickening. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades, Grandma’am helps you find your way to a nearby bench. You collapse atop the bench, your mind whirling.

Her wrinkled features crease in concern.

“Are you alright, sweet girl? Should we call a doctor?”

“I’m fine, grandma’am. Just got dizzy for a bit.”

You smile, hating that you just lied to the older woman. You’re not fine. You’re starting to remember things, things that don’t match up, make no sense.

Terrible things.

I knew you’d feel just perfect around me.

Chills bounce across your spine. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the bench as your breath flows back to your lungs.

You come to a decision. 

You need to talk to Coriolanus. 

Your brows squeeze together in frustration as the balding man checks your pulse and shines a light in your eyes again. It’s the third time tonight. Coriolanus insisted upon it.

“I told you there was no need for a physician, Coryo.”

“Grandma’am said you almost passed out,” the blonde retaliates.

You heave out a deep exhale as you glance at Tigris and Grandma’am standing nervously by the wall. They’re wearing the same concerned expression. 

You wished Grandma’am hadn’t made such a big deal of your little moment in the garden. You feel fine…well, physically at least.

You flash a feeble smile at Coriolanus.

“I didn’t…it was just a dizzy spell. Nothing honestly.”

Brows knitting, he turns to the bespectacled older man at his side.

“Doctor?”

As the man nearly approaches you again, you shoot him a warning glare. You refuse to be poked and prodded once more. Lifting his hands, the man falls back.

He adjusts the stethoscope around his neck.

“I see nothing wrong,” he says. Your shoulders sag in relief. “Still, I’d recommend that your wife takes it easy, sir.”

His words make every hair on your skin stand on end.

“I’m not his wife,” you snap.

Coriolanus’ jaw ticks. 

He turns to the others and instructs, “Everyone, leave us alone.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation on Tigris’ face. She lingers at your doorstep after Grandma’am and the doctor take their leave.

“Are you really sure that you’re okay?” she asks.

You purse your lips. “I’d feel better if everyone stopped fussing over me.”

She nods before leaving as well.

As soon as the door to your bedroom closes, Coriolanus sinks to one knee in front of you. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs brushing circles into your skin.

His cobalt eyes are wide and worried.

“Is something wrong?”

Your stomach knots. “Coriolanus…”

“Yes?”

You draw your hands back, placing them on your lap. His gaze tracks the tiny motion and he squints. 

“That night…” You lick your lips, nerves flaring as your fingers bounce. Just these two words have Coriolanus’ attention on you sharpen in a way that turns your blood to ice. Still you gather your courage and continue, “Did I say no at any point, tried to…stop it? Did…Did you, Coryo?”

The moment your doubts are uttered aloud, you loathe yourself. It’s an awful thing to even suggest. But you can't shake the feeling that there is something Coriolanus isn’t telling you. 

And maybe you always felt that way, like something isn’t quite right, but you craved so badly to have a piece of your brother near that you ignored the glaring signs. 

Shock paints Coriolanus’ handsome face.

“What? I already told you everything that happened, that I was drunk, we both were.”

You peer at Coriolanus. It hurts. So goddamn much. A knife twisting in your chest, again and again. Especially that look of utter betrayal on his face. You don’t want to casually toss those kinds of accusations at your friend. 

But your mind…

It’s bursting at the seams, moments you’re beginning to recall seeping through the cracks. You can’t ignore that. Not the sick echo of Coriolanus’ lustful tone. Not the terrifying glint swaying in his blue eyes. Not the way he panted and grunted above you as you told him to stop. Or at least you think you told him?

You’re not even sure. You’re torn. Coriolanus wouldn’t do that…right? Someone you trust. Someone Sejanus trusted…with you.

Tears swell in your eyes, threatening to break past the confine of your lashes.

Anger flashes in Coriolanus’ eyes. “Really?” he scoffs, bolting to his feet. “You don’t trust me?”

He blurs in your tear-stained vision, distorting to hazy colors you don’t recognize anymore.

“Coryo…” you sob.

He hunkers in front of you again. The anger vanishes, making space for disappointment and sadness.

He cradles your face, his tone softening.

“I would never hurt you,” he mumbles. “How could you even imply…after everything I’ve done for you.”

A shaky breath flutters through your lips. You search Coriolanus’ face, hoping to find something. A truth, an emotion, a lie. Anything, really. Any proof that you’re not crazy, that your mind isn’t just spinning wild stories out of thin air.

Nothing comes up. Coriolanus’ face is a perfect mask of genuine concern and sincerity, right down to his glistening gaze. Doubts even begin to creep inside you beneath his intense stare. 

But the longer you look into his eyes, the more unnerved you grow. 

Something is off. No one can convince you otherwise. Not anymore.

Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

“I-I think I need to go home now, Coriolanus.”

You don’t want to be here anymore, in this house you don’t know, with this man…you’re beginning to realize you don’t know either.

You want to be back home, your real home. You crave the safety of your own bed, of Ma’s warm embrace, of the familiar walls of your childhood home.

Instead of acknowledging what you just said, Coriolanus flashes you a bright grin.

“We can discuss it tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you. You frown.

“But Coryo-”

He leans to place a tender kiss on your forehead and you freeze. Every cell in your body longs to flinch away from him but gut-gripping fear keeps you in your spot.

“Tomorrow, princess,” he whispers. He fondles your cheek. You can’t tamp down your shudder. Coriolanus’ brow pinches as he gets to his feet. “It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

Coriolanus heads for the door. 

“Sweet dreams,” he coos, smiling. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

When the door slams shut, a sound you never heard before echoes from outside. The sound of a key slotting and turning inside a lock. The kind of sound suggesting you’re now trapped in the room.

Your gut sinks.

You find yourself wondering; will tomorrow ever come?

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction

[loveshotzz]

12 -mutual masturbation while camping in a tent. 

maybe tough girl finally gets to go on the annual camping trip :)

A/N:Thank you for your request angel, the way I had to write this immediately. I love this, I love you and I love them. 💗 this request comes from my completed series All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand alone. All you need to know is he calls you Tough Girl, you’ve been dating a year and he’s got a dog named Bandit.

wc: 2k

warnings: 18+, established relationship, age gap (reader is 30 and Steve is 42) slight somno I guess? reader is touching herself but not him, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, semi public.

AIRWIY!older!steve x fem! reader

The birds chirping stirs you first, the sunlight leaking through the half opened flap at the front of the tent, second. Eyes shifting behind closed lids that aren’t ready to open yet, the soft sound of Steve’s slumbered breathing next to you brings the beginning of a smile tugging up at the corners of your lips. The clinking of metal from Bandit’s leash outside is what finally gets you to open your eyes. You’d heard Steve in a daze take him out to pee before letting him bring in the sunrise outside the tent, quickly realizing this was the dog’s favorite part of these getaways.

The air mattress makes a noise that has you cringing when you roll over on the spread out sleeping bags to get a better look at him, the fresh humidity making your skin stick to it. You can’t stop that sigh that slips past your lips at the sight as he takes up room on his back. His permanent bed head is even messier than normal from a night under the stars with your hands in his hair and the stubble that lines his jaw rubbing the inside of your thighs raw. Rejuvenated after a shower that washed off the first two days of the trip.

The streaks of gray that sprinkle through his honey locks stand out even more in the daylight. The crows feet and laugh lines that you’d like to think got deeper in his first year with you are smoothed out in his sleep. You can’t help but wonder what he’s dreaming about, secretly hoping it’s you and not just the morning that has the blood rushing south.

His chest is bare, the dark thatch of hair in the middle looking soft in the warm light, the moles and freckles that dot his tan skin beg to be kissed, just like the sun had the pleasure of doing all weekend. One leg is kicked out of the covers, revealing a low hanging pair of black mesh shorts giving you a peek at the faint hint of a tan line from your days hiking down to the lake. A big hand lays spread across his stomach while the other looks like it got halfway across the small space between you on the search for yours before he fell back asleep.   

Your thighs press together in your small sleep shorts, searching for some kind of friction that you know won’t be enough for the low simmer that’s already started deep in your gut. Why did he always have to look so good? 

Steve licks his full lips, and you can’t help the way your hand starts to wander towards the ache between your legs that’s begging for attention. Fighting with your self control, your nerves ring in your ears and you swear the birds outside get louder when the tips of your fingers start to play with your waist band. 

You freeze when he grunts, blunt nails scratching his stomach making the muscles in his pecs flex. The slight pinch of his brows when something happens in his dream is enough for you to push past the elastic, your fingertips meeting your already dripping folds with a shaky breath through your nose.

Your hips roll, your pointer and index finger spreading your lips apart before the pads of them catch your bundle of nerves when you drag them back up with enough pressure to make you whimper. They don’t feel as good as his, and your heavy lidded gaze focuses on his hand spread across his stomach as you add a third finger to try and mimic the feeling. It’s almost enough and it makes you have to bite your lip to keep quiet, the sound of how wet you already are is almost enough to compete with the growing sounds of the woods coming alive.

“Fuck - honey,” Steve’s voice startles you, thick with sleep and the unmistakable gravel of want, “Why didn’t you wake me up if you needed me so bad huh?”

Your eyes meet his, and all you can do is whine in response when you see all the colors usually inside of them first thing in the morning are gone. The bright greens and gold specks are replaced with something dark and hungry, jaw a little slack while his own hand reaches down, squeezing his now fully hard length over his shorts to relieve some of the throb.  

“You know I’d never say no to you,” He whispers, his own hips rocking into his palm. You start to push two fingers in, your greedy walls fluttering despite the embarrassment of being caught making heat rise to your cheeks.  “What’s got you so worked up baby?”

He pushes his shorts half way down his hairy thighs, the full thickness of his cock smacking against the dark trail on his stomach. Already leaking, the fat tip of him looks angry as he wraps his fingers around the base, the pad of his thumb swiping over the top making him shudder. He pumps once, twice before rolling over on his side, kicking his shorts all the way off along with the blanket exposing you both to the morning air.

“Come on, don’t be shy now.” He’s closer like this, your noses almost touching and you can smell last night's bonfire still lingering. His eyes roam your body while his wrist sets a slow pace watching your nipples pebble under the thin fabric of your tank when a light breeze ruffles the walls of your tent. 

“Y-you - you just looked so good.” Your confession sounds pathetic, but it makes his eyes squeeze shut and a deep breath exhale through his nose, cock twitching in his big hand before he opens them again. 

He leans in so his lips ghost against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom one before licking into your mouth to steal your breath with the kind of kiss that was usually reserved for late nights after a couple of bottles of wine. 

“Take your shorts off, be good for me and let me see honey.” He pants, already wrecked, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before shifting to sit up, the air mattress making you bounce with the redistribution of his weight giving him the perfect view down every curve and dip of your body. 

Listening to him, you feel more exposed than ever with your legs spread wide despite no one being around. Steve groans at the visual of you like this, the motions of his wrist getting quicker while his free hand reaches down to pull up your tank by the hem, the soft fat of your breasts spilling out for his hungry eyes. It feels dirty and new, touching yourself like this for him and it only adds to the growing slick between your thighs.

“God, I’m so lucky - can’t believe you're mine. Wakin’ up to you like this? So damn pretty, baby - shit.” He groans, already babbling, squeezing hard at the base of his cock when he sees your arousal gleam in the sunlight every time you pull your fingers out, drunk off watching them disappear again.

“I want you all the fucking time, Steve.” You whine hips pushing up when you add a third one, back arching when he tweaks one of your nipples.

“Yeah?” He asks before spitting into his hand, the slick sounds of his palm working his length even harder blending in with the messy way your walls suck you in. “Tell me about it.”

You nod, completely gone by hearing him talk to you like this, curving your fingers just right to hit the spot that makes you keen. A strangled noise leaving his throat when he clocks the way your thighs start to shake, your mind racing with thoughts of him. He needs you to come soon, and when he sees the pad of your thumb start to rub messy circles on your puffy clit he knows he doesn’t have to hold off for very long.

“You’re just so sexy all the time,” it’s your turn to babble and the breathy laugh that leaves him makes you clamp around your fingers even tighter despite wishing you could roll your eyes, “Those fucking running shorts, your suits, god I want you to bend me over your desk so bad. I think about it all the - ohhhh- a lot.” 

“Jesus - baby, m’gonna have you meet me for lunch when we get back, god wear that short little dress, yeah? I’ll give you what you want, shit - anything you want.” He stutters feeling himself start to get close, your confessions bringing him to the edge. 

“I - mmm- I won’t wear any underwear.” You giggle before your mouth falls open, the band inside of you dangerously close to snapping at the thought of him behind his desk and the predatory way he’d watch the sway of your hips knowing you’re bare and already soaked for him underneath. 

“Dirty girl,” He moans and you hear the back of his head slide against the tent, “my dirty girl.”

Looking up, your eyes roam the way his chest heaves the closer he gets to his climax, sweat beading and starting to drip down his neck where the veins protrude. His gaze is heavy and hot, and it doesn’t leave you, it begs you to fall apart for him. He watches how your eyes glaze over, completely wrecked at the sight of him and the corner of his mouth turns up.

“Gonna be good and come for me now?” It’s soft when he asks despite how filthy the sounds echoing in the tent are, and when you nod with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, his grin widens. “Of course you are, always so good, so sweet.”

The last part comes out strained, his cock twitching catching the way your thighs start to shut when the drag of your fingers in your cunt becomes deliberate. You were close. The hand that he’s kept on the dough of your breast reaches down to pull your knees apart tutting under his breath.

“I wanna see it, let me have it, come on baby.”

His words are enough for you to push your head back into the pillow, your leg fighting against his firm grip to shut as the rubber band finally snaps. His name falls from lips long and drawn out, a high pitch whine that turns into a gasp and a shuddered loud moan when he pushes your hand away to replace it with his. Thick fingers collect everything you give him, pulling even more from you when he dips inside to hit the spot you could barely reach, praising you as you come even harder.

The feeling of your velvet walls squeezing tight around him brings Steve over the edge, gasping your name with a guttural groan that vibrates from his chest as he spills across his thighs and stomach. Chest heaving from the force of it, the visual of you spread out and falling apart for him makes him see white with his release.

The only sounds are your labored breathing, and a forest that’s come alive in the daylight.  You hear Bandit shuffle around to move to another spot following the moving sun as it gets higher in the sky, warming the tent more. Steve is gentle when he pulls out of you, bending down to kiss your sweaty forehead before grabbing his basketball shorts. He chuckles, wiping himself down feeling like a teenager again with nothing else around to clean himself up, your breathy giggle making his teeth shine in a wide grin before he lays himself back down. 

There’s zero hesitation to pull you to his chest despite the growing stickiness with the heat, peppering kisses across your face before collecting your lips in something a little sweeter.

“Morning, tough girl.” 

#my writing #leighanne practices smut blurbs #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic

[kiwisa]

name(s) of love ✩ cl16

Charles Leclerc x Fem! Girlfriend! Reader

fluff • smut(ish) • 1,500 words

IN WHICH... love takes on many forms and many names.

✩ “MON AMOUR…” in everyday life.

“Can you pass me the salt, mon amour?”

With one hand, the other stirring the sauce, Charles vaguely pointed to the location of the saltshaker, which you hastened to hand over. He murmured a distracted “thank you” and seasoned the meat before turning down the heat and covering the pan with the lid next to it.

You watched in silence as his shoulders tensed with every movement, the muscles of his arms drawn deliciously against his shirt. A strand of hair bounced on his forehead at each movement, wet from the steam of the pots on the hob. A scrunchie, one of yours, was pulling back his hair ⏤ which had been falling in front of his eyes ever since he began his task ⏤ into a ridiculously little ponytail.

After giving the sauce a final stir to let it reduce, Charles wiped his hands on his white “kiss the cook” apron ⏤ a gift you were very proud of.

“I love to watch you cook,” you said as you approached.

You let your hands graze his arms up to his shoulders and placed them on either side of his neck. It was impossible to resist the urge to kiss it. You pecked at every bit of skin, stopping at a few tender spots that your nights with him had revealed.

“Yeah?” he pulled you to him, careful not to bring you too close to the fire, and leaned his head back to give you more room. His hands gently tickled your ribs before moving down and squeezing your ass. He left them there, chastely, happy to receive so much attention.

“Hmm,” you nodded, far too busy loving on him to give him a real answer.

“I think you're far more interested in the food than me, mon amour.”

Oh, you'd devour him over any meal in this world.

✩ “MON COEUR…” when he’s tired.

“Mon coeur, come to bed,” Charles whined.

“One more chapter, honey, and I'm yours.”

Your eyes were beginning to burn, assaulted by the artificial light of the table lamp next to the couch. The dark night had long since darkened the sky. Despite the pain, the letters that ⏤ little by little ⏤ were becoming blurry, the sentences that only made sense if you read them twice, you couldn't bring yourself to close the book. You had started it three days ago, and as the last chapters were drawing nearer and nearer, you couldn't go to sleep without knowing the end of the story, without knowing if the protagonist would survive.

You knew it had been a trying day for Charles, as media day usually was: one interview after another, this time for magazines, and the many videos he had to shoot for various YouTube channels had dealt the final blow to his energy.

“You said that six chapters ago.”

A grimace pulled at your face. You immediately felt terrible, even more so when you saw him, at the entrance to the corridor, wrapped up in the quilt, his eyes reddened by fatigue, his hair in all directions. A painting as touching as heart-breaking. They were overworking him.

“Mon coeur, please,” he tried again.

His shiny green eyes were enough to make you give in. Morning and evening, he rejuvenated before your eyes when, around him, the arms of Morpheus imprisoned him. How could you resist his face?

Gently, you folded the corner of your page before placing the book on the coffee table. You couldn't take three steps before Charles wrapped you in the duvet, holding you tightly against him. Your eyes were blocked by the quilt and by his chest, so you did not see the dark look he gave your book, as if it was responsible for all his misfortunes.

He guided you to the bedroom like this, never letting go of you except to close the door. You could not hide your smile at his cuteness, which he took as mocking.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I didn't say anything.”

He pushed you down on the bed, watching your body bounce on the mattress before dropping onto you. The weight of his body cut off your breathing for a moment but you said nothing, understanding what Charles was craving.

Contact.

His head nestled against your breasts; his eyelids closed at once. Your skin against his, he could forget the worries of the day. He could suddenly breathe with your heartbeat giving the tempo for his to follow. Your fingers slipping into his hair, smoothing them, anything to soothe him.

There was no sound to disturb this tender moment, except your breathing and perhaps ⏤ sometimes ⏤ the sound of a kiss dropped on his forehead.

You continued until his weight became heavier, a sign that he had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight, honey,” you murmured.

Very quietly, so as not to wake him, you picked up your phone. Immediately lowering the brightness, you clicked on the orange icon on your iPhone and, remembering the little number at the top right of the page, resumed reading your book, having bought it digitally.

As pretty as this boy was, you were not going to sleep without knowing the end.

✩ “MON ANGE…” when he’s sad.

Each sniffle broke your heart a little more, as your neck collected tear after tear. You tightened your grip on Charles's trembling body, trying to protect him from this world and its horrors. Seeing this joyous man who shared your life being tarnished by others drove you into a deep rage, one you kept secret.

It could wait.

The love of your life could not.

“It's going to be okay.”

You weren't sure. How could you control people's actions, their disrespect, and the power that anonymity gave them? Words hurt, even written on a phone screen.

Charles had walked in your Monte-Carlo flat in tears, after what should have been a fun night out with his mates. It had been hard to make out his words, cut off by heart-breaking sobs, but you got the gist of it: by showing a funny tweet about him, one of his friends had unintentionally confronted Charles with the hatred of bitter people who couldn't bear to see others succeed. His appearance, his behaviour, his driving. Everything had been a subject to criticize, but it was the third point that had been the coup de grâce; especially after the disappointing new car testing.

All it had taken was one comment to shatter into a million pieces what you had tried to keep intact.

“Mon ange, I–”

“It's okay,” you repeated, trying to convince him, and maybe you as well. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to.”

So, he didn't. You stood there, hugging in the middle of the living room, a few steps from the door that hid him from all his worries.

“I love you, mon ange,” he finally whispered.

“I love you too, my talented, beautiful, kind boyfriend.”

He managed to give you a shaky smile, which, if it bore the mark of deep sadness, reassured you somewhat. You stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently, as if to affirm your compliments, to anchor them on his mouth so that he, in turn, could believe them, say them.

It would take a little time to piece him back together, but you were nothing if not stubborn.

✩ “BÉBÉ…” when he’s in the mood.

“Bébé?”

Silence.

Charles straightened up a little more, his back against the headboard. He didn't take his eyes off your body, which was facing the opposite way. The moon had long since cast its bluish halo over the bed and was now illuminating your naked curves, which the white sheet did nothing to hide.

“Bébé?”

His fingertips brushed your knee, moved gently up your thighs – his pinkie sliding inwards more than necessary – and up your lower abdomen to your chest. Charles watched with delight as your body shivered at his touch, his heart beating furiously in his chest, temple, and crotch.

“Bébé?”

This time he shook you without delicacy, abruptly waking you from your deep sleep. You didn't like this one bit. Roughly pulling the quilt up to your neck, you buried yourself in it, ignoring the complaints of the man beside you. The masterpiece that was your body, now stolen from his dilated eyes.

Unacceptable, he thought.

His hand came to rest on your waist, squeezing it.

“What?” you asked aggressively, ready to sleep after an already eventful night. This man had far too much stamina for you. The still regular shaking of your legs was proof of that.

“I'm horny,” he whined.

“You're a fucking animal, Leclerc. That’s what you are.”

Your words may have had bite, but your thighs were already spreading for him to fit between them. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful, flushed face, and pouted lips.

Fucker.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #f1 rpf #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 x you

[fayeriess]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ THE STORM ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: restless nights come with revelations.

warnings: 18+, tully!reader, mentions of death, descriptions of death, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, a small bit of angst, an even smaller amount of fluff, ( should be everything but if something is missing please let me know )

a/n: not much to say except a big thanks to @aemondtarqaryens for beta-reading this for me, I appreciate you friend <3 enjoy!

Soil often had centuries of stories to tell; laying dormant beneath blades of grass. Tragic tales that weaved themselves deep within valleys, grasping the roots of trees, and twirling around death to keep themselves nourished. A realm stained with maroon liquid that would seemingly rejuvenate the earth; feeding it flesh and carcass as an offering for those who had conquered, who had built on such sacred lands and birthed destruction.

In turn, erde would lap the harsh waters that sat at Blackwater Bay, raising the tides, angering the gods — old and new. It devoured those whose hearts palpitate under the scrutiny of the sweltering heat, falling victim to the ball of fire in the sky. It clawed at the remains of sanity, erasing any and every part of one’s being until flesh peels away from bone.

For the lives erde took, less was given. 

The greater the loss, the greater the greed. 

That was something your mother had whispered near the shell of your ear, her voice lilted and as smooth as honey — becoming equally sticky when it finally stuck itself between lumps of tissue that made up your brain.

She had told you to be cautious, for she would not be around much longer. Within the crevices of your soul, you knew that to be true, as she had sacrificed her entire being to keep you gentle, and strong — something she could not be. Though young, pale skin and sunken cheeks were what you gazed upon when the thinness of your fingers would swipe across her face in tender affection, you were always doing your absolute best to keep the tears at bay.

Sickness flourished in her lungs soon after; blooming from the inside, withering her away little by little until you had nothing else left to cling to. Her skeleton became fine flora and fauna on your ten-and-fifth name day, sprouting stems of green, budding willows and small clusters of lavender blooms. 

Your bones had ached with growth as the years grew harsher, and war crept close in the form of those a part of the City Watch, donned in the finest of armor and longswords sheathed at their sides when they’d march about back within the walls of safety. Imagining the blood dripping down the sharp, curved edges of their blades came easy, as you had witnessed such brutality and heard it with your ears. 

And once you were married off by your father, serenity became a craving. An itch in your gums and esophagus exceedingly stuffed with savagery so grand, the familiar taste of copper would pool in the middle of your tongue. The foreign feeling would not fade until it was acknowledged, welcomed with warm arms and an equally warm heart — somewhat naïve — just like you. 

At first, it had been bearable. Starting as a tingle on the bumped expanse of the spine, inching in every way possible, a certain desperation in how quickly it spreads, how it consumes you whole in something mildly familiar. Delusion — something you’d come to realize you would happily tangle yourself in if the soles of your bare feet weren’t absorbing the vibration from woodland grounds, greenery tucked between your toes. 

Moonlight descended upon your skin, trickling up the stretch of your arms in a dim warmth you were sure that none else would bring you. The lids of your eyes were screwed tightly, a dull throb forming in the sockets as you balled your fists at your sides. 

If there was one place you should not be, it was here, out in the open and shaded by nothing but leaves of the weirwood tree in the Godswood, the looming towers of the Red Keep filling your veins with a sense of dread. 

Misery has become you; sealed in your fate the minute you were bound to your husband — a Targaryen man with a temper as hot as coals. Though you have never been on the receiving end of his murderous wrath, you were no stranger to his sharp tongue and hasty decisions. Aemond was clouded by his loyalty to his family and the crown, and in the end, it would surely be the thing that would kill him.

A reoccurring dream would appear behind your lids on eves such as this, when the night grew colder and the violence you had grown accustomed to faded with the crickets' songs, becoming a solemn lullaby. Most nights, you’d have no qualms, resting your mind once you were cradled in the arms of your lover. But this night, sleep had yet to find you, and without Aemond’s presence looming over, scarpering was as easy as taking a breath.

A light wind swept through the air, ruffling the already creased fabric of your nightgown even further as you stared at the face carved into the tree, corners of your lips downturned in a slight frown. By now, you had committed every single piece of chipped wood to memory, eyes growing watery and skin bumpy with gooseflesh the longer you stood atop dead leaves, hearing them crunch beneath the soles of your feet as you shuffled somewhat.

Perhaps you were waiting for a beam of lighting to strike down upon you, to scorch your insides and eviscerate every single cell in your body until you become one with the earth. Either that or whisked away into the air. As of now, you had no arguments as to which one would be your fate.

Cold had nipped at the pads of your toes, a sure sign that it was time to retire to your chambers and retreat underneath the comfort of your sheets. Yet, no matter how tempting that fleeting thought was, it felt as if you were cemented to your spot, slightly swaying in place to get rid of the chill.

“What are you doing out here alone?” His voice made your spine stiffen, teeth gritting together at the low, patient tone of his voice. The clatter of his shoes reverberated throughout your ears, turning light as he joined you on the grass, shoulder nearly pressed against the left side of your back. 

Aemond’s lingering presence brought you some sort of comfort, even if it was just a ghost of a touch covered by clothing, and you found yourself longing to be in his arms. Ultimately, you kept your distance, fingers numb as you tried flexing them at your sides.

“I received a raven earlier in the evening,” your murmur came quickly, lips barely moving as your gaze blurred slightly, eyes glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. Although he does not answer, you can feel his violet eye cautiously peering at the side of your face, lips slightly pointed downward. 

“Grandfather is ill. Elmo will be lord soon.” 

Not a crease embedded itself in the muscles of his face as he continued to stare — only for a second longer before averting his eye to the weirwood tree. “We’ll make him see reas-”

Shaking your head, you finally cocked it in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest to self-soothe as you took in the sharp angles of his face shadowed by the moon.

 “He is still keeping our house banners in Riverrun. I know Elmo well enough to know he has already chosen. He’s always looked at Rhaenyra as the sole heir to the Iron Throne, and when grandfather takes his last breath, he’ll surely pledge allegiance to the Blacks.”

Your elder brother was stubborn. His skull was as thick as the fattest lords in all of Westeros, and even if it was indeed your grandfather’s dying wish to join the Greens in this war, Elmo would rather take a blade to the skin of his own throat than obey. Perhaps, that was one of the many reasons why you did not get along as well as siblings should have. Where you were meek, he was bold. Where you were sharp and quick-witted, he was dull and slow-minded. Choosing opposite sides when it came to the facet of war, of life and death, further broke a bond that was already weakly stitched together. 

Deep within, you were confident your words would fall on deaf ears, and Aemond would eventually take to the skies with Vhagar, only to find himself in Riverrun and surprise Elmo Tully with an unwanted and unexpected visit. He was married to you after all. What good of a husband would he be if not to check on the wellbeing of your kin?

Aemond sighed, momentarily closing his eye before turning his body to face you, hands snaking up to circle your forearm. “You should be resting. The maester requested that you not walk much.” 

Huffing, you swat him away, practically ripping your hand from his grasp before turning sharply on your heels. “I just need a minute, Aemond, please. I do all you ask of me, just grant me this.” 

Salt-ridden were your tears as they cascaded down your chin, dripping onto the linen of your nightgown when you clutched your swollen belly, anxiety rumbling with your little one. A throat full of sand and a broken heart was what you carried when he nodded reluctantly, taking small steps toward you until his arms snaked around your hips, coming to rest at your stomach.

He smelled of dragon; the faint scent of rose and citrus from his earlier bath still clinging to his clothing just as you are, the back of your head pressed to his chest. You focus on the low thrum of his heart, the stiffness of his body as he hums lowly.

“He spoke to me about your dreams as well.” 

Blinking, you press your lips together thinly before responding. “Now I’ll refuse to utter a word to him.” 

“Hm, yes, I would rather my wife tell her husband what troubles her.” 

“I am worried the babe might be suffering.” 

Aemond’s chest caves below your head, crisp, night air all but knocked out of his lungs at your vague concern. However, he does not move, not even when you crane your neck to stare at his clouded eye as best you can.

“When I finally find rest, blood decorates the sheets. It all starts the same. I reach between my legs and the smell of copper sours in the air, and everything feels wrong.” You shake your head, ridding your mind of such an ugly, yet recurring thought. 

There’s a fearful movement in your fingers as your nails bite into his covered arm, eyes blinking rapidly as you nonsensically continue. “Fire spreads, setting me ablaze and I watch as my flesh burns.”

Aemond says nothing, only pulls you as closely as he can manage, thumb bending to trace shapes over the clothed, stretched skin with his nail. 

“It’s merely the stress, sweetling.” His dismissal has you scoffing, warm breath hitting soundless air, eyes rolling far in their sockets when he continues. “A lot has happened within the past moon, I’m positive it's taking hold.” 

Your hands curl inward under his warm palm, the other moving to clasp over the fingers that itch your skin. “No, Aemond.” 

Foreign to your ears is your voice, laced with annoyance and fearfulness at the darkness consuming you entirely. Even in a state of unconsciousness, you weren’t safe, and as long as this babe grew bigger inside of you, you’d never be. 

Turning in his loose grasp, you clutch at the collar of his tunic, lower lip trembling as his brows furrow in concern. “Then what is it?”

In the short time you’ve come to know Aemond, you’ve always made it your goal to at least try and understand him in ways none could; whether that be through a slow blink of his eye or a quick twitch of lip, his expressions weren’t as concealed as he hoped to keep them. You could tell it peeved him to no end — having someone recognize what emotions were harbored in the center of his heart, unprotected by the rest of his shielding exterior. In truth, it would’ve been all too easy to lie and say he was quite satisfied with the way things currently were. In his mind, what little claim to the throne he had in the palm of his calloused hands amounted to nothing, especially when he had offered to seek out his brother the second word had passed that his father, King Viserys, first of his name, had succumbed to the Stranger. 

It was a striking reminder that anything, and anyone he’s ever held dear in his heart, could wither away before his very eyes. 

Including you.

His wife. The mother of his unborn child. Someone he had sworn his entire life to protect and cherish as if you were a part of him, a missing piece he had the pleasure of rediscovering.

Your revelation had hushed the dragon fire burning in his veins but emboldened the tragedy materializing in his psyche. Aemond Targaryen would never win, and that was something he would not swallow even if it had been poured into a chalice of wine.

“Helaena speaks in riddles, as if her tongue is twisted.” Tugging the pillowed flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth, you wrack the mess that is your brain of how to word your next sentence. “Death amid a storm.” 

It rolls off of your tongue, malice laced between her spoken words that have yet to leave you. Helaena was peculiar — in a sort of way, one would either deem her mad with the words that left her mouth as quickly as they had come. 

Her lavender eyes would fall cloudy, hazed with something unforeseen to anyone else but her, mind miles away, and never in the present.

“The sun rose and fell three times, and what has yet to leave with it, Aemond?”

The man before you can only part his lips, skin creasing in the gap spacing his brows, shaking hands now resting at either side of your waist as his sole eye scans the distress etched in your features. He knows. 

He can smell previous rainfall in the air, inhales it, and lets it repose his lungs with freshness he can only compare to the feeling of your skin against his. 

“The rain.” 

You nod curtly. “Exactly. And with these dreams destroying my sanity, draining the blood from my very being, how can I not believe her words to ring true?” 

The safety you had hoped the weirwood tree would bring, has not reached you, nor will it tonight as he pushes you toward the Red Keep, thin-lipped and jaw tight. “We’ll further discuss this in our chambers.”

Aemond clenches his teeth together; not out of vexation, but out of consternation. He hopes, and prays to the Seven, that everything you uttered was merely due to your worries of the babe’s nearing birth as he guides you up the steps toward one of the many halls. 

And when his lips press against your temple, right hand coming to rest on your swollen belly once again, the clouds continue their crying.

#house of the dragon aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x female reader #hotd x reader #hotd aemond targaryen

[yasu-1234]

sleepy sex with your boyfriend, choso.

pairing: choso x afab reader words: 3,000 contains: 69 (oral sex), p in v sex, overstimulation, and choso being clingy mood:  eepy, comfy, slow author’s note: it was rainy today. what a coincidence !

The storm outside your window has finally calmed into a gentle patter of rain, the howling winds have faded into a soft breeze threading the trees that frame your streets, and yet nothing is as comforting as the sound of Choso coming home; the jingling of his keys by your front door, his husky voice announcing that he’s home, and the heavy trudging of his feet against the hardwood floor as he makes his way to your bedroom. 

It’s an hour past midnight. Much later than his usual arrival.

He opens the door and finds you seated upright on the bed, your back propped up by a pillow, your smile calm and radiant as you look up from your book to meet his weary eyes. The bedside lamp casts a soft, golden hue inside the bedroom, warm and comforting, as if the room itself has embraced the love shared within its walls. 

“Hey, you,” you greet him. You close your book and place it on the nightstand. 

Choso doesn’t reply. Instead, he strips down to his boxers with a huff, raises the duvet, and crawls across the mattress until he reaches the space between your legs. He sinks his weight against your torso with a heavy sigh, home at last in the solace of your arms.

“Baby…” he mutters as he nuzzles into your chest, his voice soft and gravelly from exhaustion. “I missed you.”

You carefully remove his hair ties and run your fingers through his locks, untangling his hair and soothing the pressure from his scalp. He sighs from relief and his breath is warm against your skin. The scent of rain and the outdoors cling to him, crisp and rejuvenating in its earthiness, like fresh dew drops dripping into soil.

“I missed you too,” you say softly.

“Did I make you wait too long?”

“A little bit. But you’re here now, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You must’ve been so lonely…” he replies. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He reaches for your hand to press your knuckles against his lips. Kissing you with gentleness and care. To Choso, you are delicate, exquisite; to be held softly in his hands and treated with infinite tenderness and worship. To Choso, you are meant to be savored. To be indulged. Whether it’s with attention or gifts or sex. He hated to be away from you; much more, he hated for you to be alone. Lying in bed in the late hours of the night, longing to fall asleep in his arms, surrounded by his warmth.

Choso grinds his teeth, chastising himself for such a shortcoming. He’s always been hard on himself when it comes to the people he loves. And so dramatic. A testament to his tender, oversized heart.

“It’s been an awful storm. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize,” you say fondly, hoping to soothe his worry. 

He shakes his head, “I still can’t help but feel bad about it.” 

He leans upwards to kiss you. His soft, plush lip finds tender purchase in the space between yours. You part your lips and Choso groans softly, deep in his chest, as he seizes the chance to deepen the kiss. Your back bows as you feel his soft tongue flow past your lips, meeting you with a gentle, circular caress, sending tremors along your nerves.

His hands drag sluggishly over your skin. His weight is heavy against your body. Even his kisses feel slow and loose. As if they can stop anytime.

“You’re tired,” you whisper against his lips. “You should rest.”

“No, baby, I’m fine… Just let me do this. Please,” he whispers back. He removes the extra pillow behind you and guides you to lie on your back. Then he rests on his elbows as his fingers brush your hair away from your face, gazing down at you with half-lidded eyes before he plants kisses on your forehead and on your cheeks.

“I wanna do this for you,” he continues.

You give a resigned sigh as Choso drags his warm lips from your cheek down to your neck. Leaving a chill, electrified trail in its wake, raising waves of goosebumps from under your flesh. Then he nuzzles against your chest. And for a moment, you could have sworn he had fallen asleep then and there. Until his hand slips underneath your shirt, pulling it upwards to expose your chest.

Choso buries his face against your bare skin.

He starts to knead and suckle on your breasts, his hot mouth encircling your nipple, rubbing the soft, succulent tip of his tongue around and around your stiff bud. The sensation of his tongue is delicate, and yet somehow, searing—a pleasure that begins as a gentle, flickering in your breasts that surges into a nearly painful throbbing between your legs. Your hand drifts downward, hoping your fingers will relieve that ache. But Choso wraps his hand around your wrist, pinning it up to the side of your head.

“You don’t have to do anything, baby,” he mutters, looking at you with a sleepy, yet tender gaze. “Just leave it to me, okay? I’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

Choso takes your other wrist and pins it to your side as he continues relishing your breasts, your body writhes and bows and shudders as you grow helpless against his gentle mouth. Then he plants his thigh between your legs and starts rubbing it against your aching core. You moan and spread your legs, your panties soaking against his thigh, as you ride each wave of relief against your clit.

“So wet already,” he whispers. “Let me taste you…”

“Please,” you answer.

Choso takes his kisses southward, his lips drifting across your sternum, your stomach, down to your belly, until he pulls your panties off and lays them on the side of the bed. He pushes his hair back as he admires the way your pussy flutters under his gaze—so wet and pretty and inviting. He parts you open with his thumb and closes his eyes. Then he kisses your pussy as if it were your lips; with a soft tongue gliding along your slit, a hot sigh against your skin, and soft lips that close around your aching clit. Tasting, caressing, then devouring. You grab the pillow underneath you and moan, your toes curling as you melt and throb in his tongue.

“Rub it against my face, baby,” he tells you. “Kiss me back.” 

“Oh god—“ you whimper as you move your hips, rubbing your pussy in time with his mouth. Choso moans as his lips move with greater hunger. He spits on his fingers and starts prodding your entrance. His lips remain suctioned against your clit as he glides his thick fingers inside, curling and pressing that spot that you love.

Your taste, your scent, your softness, and your needy, satisfied moans rocket straight from Choso’s senses down to his hardening cock. You notice the slow, sensual rolling of his backside as he ruts against the mattress, rubbing his cock against your sheets to tease himself. Nothing arouses him more than the sounds of your pleasure. 

You thread your fingers along his soft hair. 

“Choso,” you sigh. “Get in here… Let me taste you too…”

He looks up, his eyes glazed with need, “Are you sure?” 

You nod and he sighs as he maneuvers his hips.

“Thank you…” he whispers.

Together, you lie on your sides; with your head resting comfortably on his muscular thigh, and his head resting on yours. You help him shrug off his boxers to reveal his cock—thick, smooth, and long, with a shaft so translucent and pale that you can see the thin, purplish veins snaking underneath his skin like a delicate web. You wrap your hands around the base and rub your tongue along the salty and textured underside of his crown, your hand twisting as it glides up and down.

Choso’s hips stutter. 

“A-ah!” He groans. He’s always been so sensitive to your touch. “Slow and gentle, baby. Slow and gentle. Please. I don’t wanna cum so fast.” 

“Alright, baby,” you whisper back, and his cock twitches as your breath hits his slit.

You wrap your lips around his head, sucking him with shallow strokes, your hand firm and steady around his base. You roll the tip of your tongue around his sensitive tip and each drop of precum tastes sweeter than the last. Choso hums and kisses your pussy once again; the slow and languorous movement of his tongue sends pulses of pleasure all the way to your hair-ends, lulling you into a deep state of comfort; enough to let your head sink deeper and deeper between his thighs, sliding his cock to the back of your tongue until it dwells inside your warm throat. 

“God, you’re incredible,” Choso moans and grunts, his thighs nearly vibrating from the hot and tight sensation. “Keep going baby… it feels–so good.”

You keep his cock buried inside your throat like a sleeve, your hand gripping his thigh and his backside, moving only to catch your breath and to keep him sensitive. And in return, he slides a stiff tongue inside of your entrance, his chin rubbing against your clit, savoring your delicate taste and the tightness of your walls. Choso flutters and rolls his tongue, and your nails dig into his thick thighs as you grind your hips against his mouth. And the pleasure he gives you flows back to him when you moan around his cock, teasing him with the vibrations of your throat.

You stay like this for moments, savoring and being savored, indulging and being indulged. Your hips and lips and fingers sway and curl in the same unhurried rhythm, wanting to stretch these sensations as long as you can. And your moans spill into each other’s cores as you revel in mutual pleasure. 

You withdraw and look down towards your lover; his eyes closed and his brow upturned, licking your cunt like a sleepy little kitten, indulging in his milk. You smile and reach down to caress his jaw.

“You okay down there?” You ask.

“Mmhm…” he hums. “I could die like this…”

You laugh softly. “Come back to me, baby.”

He shifts and crawls on top of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and resting his entire weight on your body. He starts kissing your neck as you feel his cock press between your legs.

“Do you need me?” he asks softly, rubbing his cock against your clit, seeking permission to enter. 

“I need you,” you whisper back. And his hips shift ever so slightly as his tip plunges inside your slit; a smooth and slick entrance, but with a thickness that stretches your walls—a hazy blur between pleasure and pain. 

You wrap your arms around his smooth back, feeling his warm breath on your neck as he sinks deeper and deeper, until your hips finally touch and Choso sinks into you with a shudder. You moan, feeling fuller and tighter with his cock so close to your womb. 

He nuzzles his eyelids against your shoulder. Quiet and unmoving. His breath hot and labored against your skin. You laugh softly, wondering if the overwhelming pleasure has knocked him unconscious.

“Choso?” You call to him, scratching lightly at the back of his neck.

“Hm?” 

“Still with me, baby?”

He smiles against your skin, “Yeah. It’s just—you feel so fucking good.”

He finally moves his hips, slow and steady like rolling waves. You moan softly into his ear as his cock drags and hits all the right spots. And the sound of your voice provokes his hips to move faster; his hands wandering and grabbing every soft inch of your flesh, his lips biting and suckling on the base of your neck. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby,” he sighs. “It’s like I’m made for you.” 

He tilts his head to look down on you with a needy and primal gaze, his breath growing shallower as his thrusts grow harder and deeper. His hips snap against your skin, almost like a slap. Hot, coiling pleasure sears inside your belly as his presence overwhelms your senses; his deep, needy groans, his soft tongue against yours, the nebulous saltiness of his scent, and his heavy cock between your legs. Fucking you until you cling unto him for grounding, as if he’s the only one who can prevent your soul from falling into the abyss. 

Choso grabs the back of your head, tilting you to meet his gaze.

“Do I feel good?” He asks you with ragged breaths.

“Y-yeah,” you moan. “So good.”

“Am I fucking you right?” He asks again.

“So right…”

“Do you love me?”

“I love you.”

His lips tremble, “Say that again. Please?”

“I love you…”

You said it with such earnest, such honesty, and with so much affection behind your hazy eyes, that a strangled noise leaves Choso’s throat. Prompting him to drive his cock upwards, hitting you at the perfect angle, with the perfect rhythm. So desperate to please, so desperate to finish. You cry out in ecstasy; your nails digging into his back as he hurtles you closer and closer to your peak.

“Choso–,” you moan.

“I know,” he huffs. “Me too.” 

Choso’s abs tighten, his cock rumbling inside your tight cunt, his moans ragged as he nears his climax. But he grits his teeth with a hiss, trying his best to reign it in. Not yet, he thinks to himself. Not until you finish first. 

“Cum for me, baby. Please,” he pleads. “Please, let me feel you.”

He reaches down to rub your clit with his thumb. And the sudden sting of pleasure breaks you apart—your body thrashing helplessly against the strength of your climax. The rush of blood feels searing hot underneath your skin, muffling and blurring the rest of your senses. And your walls begin to contract around his cock with an urgent rhythm, squeezing him and heightening his pleasure.

“Hngh— yes, yes, just like that, baby. Keep going for me. Keep going for me, please,” Choso rambles in between strangled moans. His hips nearly a blur as he fucks you for his climax.

Choso relishes the sight of you; your lips parted, your eyelids lowered, your head tilted back and snared frozen by ecstasy as you come on his cock. His cock. Through his rhythm and his thrusts. And no one else’s. Pride and love and passion swell in his chest as he gives you that rapturous, bone-melting pleasure that you deserve, drawing out a face that looks this fucking beautiful. An expression so radiant in its purity and so raw in its vulnerability.

He holds your head and torso steady, his thrusts growing frantic and relentless, devoid of any rhythm or restraint. And you bite back a scream as the drag of his cock becomes rough and overwhelming. Sustaining your climax until it consumes you in monstrous, cascading waves. 

 “Just a little more, baby. I’m so close, I’m so fucking close—ah—yes—“ 

You feel a sudden surge of heat as Choso’s come bursts straight into your womb, flooding you until you leak. His thighs shake and his hips jerk in a desperate staccato—grinding his cock to milk the rest of his spent, moaning and whispering your name as if in worship, until the words melt into a soft sigh on his lips. And his desperate thrusts halt into stillness. And his firm grip against your skin loosens into a soft rubbing of his thumb. 

The earlier passion has faded into tenderness and soothing. 

“I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he says, panting.

“Not in a way I don’t like,” you answer. 

His lips curl into a smile. He reaches upwards to caress your cheek.

“Can I keep holding you like this?” He asks. And you nod in response.

Your mind floats weightlessly, the rest of the world melting into mist like a distant dream. Your bodies remain melded together, and you forget where your body ends and where Choso’s begin. You forget which breath is yours and which is his when he kisses you with unbridled affection. You don’t even know if your fleeting thoughts are yours as your mind crawls toward lucidity. Perhaps it’s just his words echoing in your mind. But none of these are confusing to you. Such sensations are typical for two souls who share a heart; for lovers who know each other's bodies as well as they know their own. And Choso has mapped your body a thousand times; with his eyes, when he was pining for you, and with the rest of him when he was finally yours. 

Choso withdraws and tucks your face towards the curve of his neck, resting your head on his arm, then pulling you closer to his chest with a large, flat hand. He drapes you with his weight, surrounding you with his radiant heat and his comforting scent. You can feel the way his chest expands and contracts in the rhythm of your breathing. You find soothing in the ebb and flow of your bodies. Your eyelids sink from the comfort of his embrace and the weight of your exhaustion. 

There is no greater expression of tenderness and trust than the way you fall asleep in each other’s arms. With his eyes closed and his body growing limp, Choso has never looked so vulnerable and helpless. And yet he folds his arms protectively around you, as if he can shield you from the world in his sleep. At the same time, he curls his body into your form, tucking his thighs in between yours, making himself small enough for you to embrace the most of him. Because to Choso, you’re a sanctuary. A person from which he draws security and strength. And so you close your eyes, comfortable in this mutual dependency, in being both vulnerable and protective, finding solace in the warmth of each other's presence.

originally posted on ao3 thank you for giving this fanfic a chance! art by @WYY1KWKV88gg8uo on x

#yasu1234 #yasu* #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso smut #jjk choso #choso jjk #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo fanfiction

[captainmalewriter]

Fuck!!! Cant believe i just missed my flight to go on vacation.

I work like a dog all year and this is what i get? The slowest and chattiest taxi driver in London fumbles my ride and now I'm too late....fuck

Shouldn't be mad, traffic was not his fault, and maybe i could get on the next flight, he was nice enough to give me this Cream prizeball for my troubles

Congratulations, you found my missing cream capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

It was unbelievable. You had planned your well-earned vacation for several months now, but once the big day came around, shit immediately hit the fan. You had taken a risk and decided to sleep in a little instead of going to the airport as early as possible. That one tiny decision turned out to be your downfall…

You sat in your taxi cab with a grim look on your face. The time was now 11:35 AM; you were a little more than a half hour late to your scheduled flight now. With every passing minute, the plane that was supposed to take you to your destination was getting further and further away. Despite missing your flight, you decided to go to the airport anyway. There was the possibility of getting on a later flight after all!

But despite your optimism, your taxi driver’s non-stop chattering was starting to get on your nerves. He kept changing topics on a whim and with very little to no transition between topics. Although you were nice enough to listen for the first few minutes or so, your patience was starting to wear thin. And to make matters worse, the traffic was absolutely horrid that morning. You were moving at a turtle’s pace, and the flow of traffic didn’t seem to be improving much if at all. You laid your head against your arm as you began looking out the window. If everything had gone the way it was supposed to, then you’d be tucked into your airplane seat taking a catnap instead of being trapped in the hell scape of seemingly never-ending traffic.

While you were busy daydreaming, your taxi driver changed topics again. You almost didn’t catch it due to how fast he talks but you managed to notice he was now talking to you instead of at you. You tried to follow along with what he was saying but got lost somewhere in the middle of his ramblings. You ended up just letting whatever the driver was saying go in one ear and out the other. After a few more minutes of rambling, the taxi driver finally got to his point.

“…But look, I know it sucks when things don’t go your way. Nobody likes it. I know I can’t do much to help out but here, maybe some candy might cheer you up.” He opened the glove department where he had various capsules sitting in there. He took out the cream colored one and handed it to you. “I’ve never seen this flavor before but here, I want you to have it.”

You took the capsule from him. Surprisingly, the taxi driver returned his eyes to the road and stayed quiet. It was odd but you accepted his newfound silence without question. You held the cream capsule in your hands. It looked like just the ones marketed to children. You sighed. Maybe the driver was right, maybe some vanilla candy would help perk up your mood. You twisted the capsule open and saw perfectly swirled cream sitting inside. There was a small plastic spoon attached to the lid. You took it off and started eating the candy cream. It tasted just like almond butter! Delicious.

You felt rejuvenated as you kept eating the cream. It was like a rush of energy suddenly started coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure if the sudden energy spike was because of a sugar rush or if it was because of something else. All you knew was that you needed to get out of the car and start moving!

You thanked the taxi driver for the ride and for the candy capsule as you paid what you owed. You then hopped out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk while the traffic was still at a standstill. You began speed walking down the sidewalk towards the airport, already making better progress than just sitting in a car. But then a speed walk became a jog, then a jog became a run. You could feel your heartbeat pumping as you ran in the bright sunlight. You were working up a sweat as you ran at a steady pace to the airport and took off your shirt as a result. Even though you weren’t really a runner, you were running like a professional athlete. Your form was great, your breathing was controlled, and your fast pace was nothing to sneeze at either. You were a natural!

The more you ran, the more calories you were burning off. It was miraculous, it was like any body fat you once possessed was melting off within a matter of minutes! Your muscles grew at an explosive rate. Your arms became rugged as body fat transformed into muscle mass. Your biceps were the size of melons and your hands became rough like leather as scarred calluses formed on your palms. Your shoulder span became wider and bigger as your lats grew and grew. Your new torso matched that of a professional bodybuilder once your body finished growing its new muscles.

The bottom half of your body also went through a muscle transformation. Your calves and thighs were sculpted with muscles like a Greek god. Your feet grew bigger until you possessed size 12 feet. Your ass became rounder and firmed as your glute muscles kicked in too. Although you didn’t have a bubble butt, you still had a sweet, voluptuous ass to call your own. Straight lines and rugged angles became the reality of your new body. From the sharp jawline to incredibly well-defined abs, you became the epitome of men’s health and fitness.

You made it to the airport in record time. You stood outside the entrance for a bit as you caught your breath after working up a good sweat from a great run. As you waited, some men that were coming in and out of the airport stopped to compliment you on your physique. They mostly said things along the lines of ‘I love your videos bro… You’re my favorite fitness influencer… You motivate me to get stronger’ and so on. You weren’t exactly sure what they were talking about but just flashed your signature white smile and thanked them for the love.

Once you cooled down, you made your way inside the airport and went straight to a receptionist desk. You were planning to explain your situation and that you’d like to book a later flight if possible, but the receptionist cut you off before you could begin. Just like the men from before, she was a fan of your fitness content. She called you ‘Mr. Rami Singh.’ That wasn’t your name, but for some reason… You didn’t feel the need to correct her. Her calling you that name felt… correct, somehow. She showered you with lots of praise and support, and although you weren’t used to receiving this much love, you took in stride and grinned as you thanked her.

“Hey, I saw on your story that you’re heading off to Mumbai,” the receptionist started. “You know, I’ve got connections… I can bump you up to first class if you’d like. Consider it a small gift from a fan, Mr. Singh, I mean it’s the least I can do after you helped me transform my life with your weight loss plan!”

The receptionist was beaming. She called you Mr. Singh again. You blinked a couple times as you processed what you had experienced. Strange things had been happening ever since you ate the candy from the capsule that chatty taxi driver gave you. Yet, the more you thought about it, the less strange everything seemed. You were Rami Singh, a 27 year old Indian who loved going to the gym and had made a career being a fitness influencer on social media. You loved fitness and you loved helping people start their own fitness journeys by sharing your knowledge. You were a man who was as happy and humble as you were fit and handsome.

“Hello? Mr. Singh?”

The receptionist brought you back to reality. You accidentally spaced off while your mind reconfigured your memories to match your new identity. You shook the feeling and accepted the receptionist’s offer. Your family was waiting for you in Mumbai after all, you can’t keep them waiting!

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

#male transformation #male body swap #male body switch #bodybuilder tf #jock tf #muscular #reality change #toy capsule stories

[foodandfolklore]

Jar of Sunshine - Lemon Curd

So I've shared stories about Lemons and I've shared stories about Eggs. Both items are staples in cooking and baking, but I thought I'd share a recipe that uses mainly these two ingredients. Lemon Curd.

Now, I'll be the first one to admit that the name "Lemon Curd" for a dish is not the most appetizing sound. It almost sounds like milk that has curdled so bad, it's as sour as lemon juice. Instead, I call it a jar of sunshine, as magically, it harnesses the best parts of the ingredients' solar energy. Lemons have been connected with the sun and this recipe uses mainly Egg Yolks. This allows you to help bring out some of the best aspects of solar energy like Passion, Courage, Energy, Inspiration, Rejuvenation and Joy. The later two I find I get the most out of with this recipe.

Need: 1 Cup White Sugar 2 Tbsp Lemon Zest 6 Egg Yolks 1/2 Cup Lemon Juice 1/2 Cup Butter 1/2 tsp lemon extract (Optional)

Zest your Lemons and add to sugar. Incorporate these together well to activate the oils of the lemon zest. You can shake in a bag, use a food processor, or just mix really, really well.

Juice your Lemons, taking care to keep seeds out. Add your juice and egg yolks into a pot. Whisk well. Slowly add your sugar and lemon zest mixture, stirring well with whisk. If you want lemon extract, add it now.

Place your pot on low heat and whisk continuously. Keep stirring until the mixture thickens and starts to bubble. This is going to take a while, but don't stop stirring or turn up the heat. It’s ready when you stick a wooden spoon in and it coats your spoon in yellow.

Remove from heat, and add your butter. Make sure it is cold and cubed. Continue stirring until butter has melted.

Pour your finished mixture through a fine mesh strainer. This will ensure your curd is smooth and silky. Put mixture in a glass jar with lid. Let cool at room temperature for an hour before lidding and putting in fridge. It will set completely in fridge. Will last several weeks in fridge and months in freezer.

Tip: -Do not stop whisking when eggs are on heat. Failing to do so may cause the eggs to overcook and become lumpy. -If your stove doesn’t go low enough, consider cooking in a double boiler. -Two Lemons should yield your needed Zest and Juice. -Use fresh lemon juice. The pre squeezed stuff you can get in a bottle will not cut it. -You can easily separate egg yolks from the egg white by tipping the egg back and forth between the shells. Or Gently use your hands to separate the yolk from the whites. -Do not fret if some egg white mixes in with your yolk. -Let your lemon curd cool completely before using it in baking. -When you make your lemon curd and you want it to have max solar energy, make sure you are cooking during the day. Not at night or in the evening. -Use less or even no lemon extract if you do not want your lemon curd to taste too strong.

#Kitchen Witch #Sun Witch #Solar Witchcraft #Lemon Curd #recipie #baking #jar magic #food and folklore #klickwitch #kitchen witchcraft #kitchen magic #witch #october #kitchen

[mooechi]

a gift?

spring. the season she bought something just for her.

on the day following her return from a mission, riri discovers eva in a state of solitude beneath a blossoming sakura tree.

however, the winter pillar seems to have been searching for the glacier pillar. why is that?

an akari fuyutsuki x eva himeko oneshot.

// eva himeko rightfully belongs to my beloved, @muitsuri!

spring, when the world bursts forth with life.

spring, where a symphony of delicate miracles unfolds.

spring, a season when verdant tendrils awaken from their slumber, where the gentle touch of the sun's caress breathes vitality into every corner of the earth.

amidst this exquisite tapestry of rejuvenation, beneath the boughs of a resplendent sakura tree, a lovely lady found herself caught in a momentary enchantment.

her graceful figure, adorned in hues of soft pastels, became the focal point of a whimsical dance. with closed eyes, her lashes fluttered like the wings of dainty butterflies, lending an air of ethereal serenity to her gorgeous countenance.

the fragrance of blooming flowers enveloped her, infusing the air with a sweet intoxication that stirred her senses.

the sakura petals swirled around her with a grace befitting a ballet, encircling her form in a delicate waltz. each petal, kissed by the gentle breeze, pirouetted and twirled in harmonious synchrony, their ephemeral beauty mirroring the ephemeral nature of this captivating season.

the cherry tree stood tall and proud, its branches reaching towards the heavens as if yearning to touch the cerulean canvas above. and beneath its protective canopy, the glacier hashira found peace, a sanctuary where her thoughts could wander amidst the petals' tender embrace.

her delicate lids fluttered open, anticipation filling her being.

yet, instead of being greeted by the expected rosy vista, her irises were met with a mesmerizing azure expanse that halted her tranquility in its tracks.

the chestnut-tressed maiden could practically hear her heart cease its rhythmic dance, only to resume with a frantic tempo as she realized that those majestic blue irises belonged to none other than the winter pillar. the hashira, with a mere tilt of her head, seemed unperturbed by their proximity, as if she had initiated this encounter herself—which was most likely.

silence enveloped the pair, stretching into an eternity, as they locked gazes, delving deep into the depths of each other's souls. the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, a testament to the profound connection that existed between them. and then, like a soothing melody, a familiar voice, flat yet mellow, graced the ears of the flustered maiden.

"and here I thought you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.”

as the pillar’s words lingered in the air, akari finally leaned back, causing a tumultuous storm of emotions to surge within the latter’s heart—a mix of both fortune and dismay.

though the azure-eyed maiden's words may have carried a hint of sarcasm, eva understood that they held a genuine sentiment, devoid of mockery, but rather a straightforward observation.

"i wasn’t actually asleep, you know..."

the glacier pillar felt a surge of gratitude as her words flowed forth without a single stutter. however, her tone remained meek, leaving her uncertain if they were even heard, or if they simply dissolved into the ether.

naturally, the latter heard her—akari unconsciously exerted more effort whenever it involved eva, after all.

however, to her surprise, akari; though renowned for her analytical disposition, found herself unexpectedly taken aback, her eyebrows arching being the sole giveaway to her genuine astonishment.

"you weren't?"

a hint of perplexity laced the winter pillar’s voice as she raised a hand to her chin, her head tilting slightly as she hummed in thoughtful contemplation. "strange. everything about you seemed to suggest otherwise, but i suppose i was mistaken."

“eh?"

eva, in turn, tilted her head slightly, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity. did it have something to do with her appearance? had something changed? or perhaps it was due to the winter pillar’s unique perception of auras? so many questions stirred within her, yet remained unspoken—

"if you appeared so serene with only your eyes closed," akari continued, her words laced with a touch of intrigue. "i can only imagine how much more captivating it would be when you are truly asleep."

oh…

was that meant to be a compliment? the heat of embarrassment crept up eva’s pretty face, coloring it with a rosy hue.

normally, she would be quite talkative around the winter pillar, but in this moment, she found herself rendered speechless. her mouth parted slightly, but the words she longed to utter seemed to elude her, trapped in the depths of her being.

as the hashira settled into a more relaxed position, abandoning her previous crouch in front of eva, the glacier pillar struggled to regain her composure. the contrast between her disheveled state and the seemingly unfazed composure of the lady before her was evidently striking.

yet, as if fate had finally decided to show her mercy, eva’s eyes caught a glimmer of light reflecting off what appeared to be a snowflake-shaped object in the winter pilar’s free hand. upon closer examination, it became clear that it was a hairpin.

an idea sparked in the sable-head’s mind, causing her to perk up. "how beautiful! do you need help with that? i can assist you in putting it in your hair—“

"what? no."

the cobalt-head’s sudden interruption caused the radiant smile on eva’s face to freeze. a wave of uncertainty washed over her, as if she had committed a grave mistake. akari’s deadpan expression translated into a look of incredulity through eva’s eyes, igniting a spark of panic within her.

"sorry, that must’ve been weird of me to ask..”

"what?..no it isn’t. i only declined because this hairpin isn't for me."

the glacier pillar paused, finding herself confused for the second time within such a short span. if not for herself, then for whom?

was akari planning to give it to someone else?

the thought sent a pang of pain through eva’s heart, and her feeble attempts to conceal her expression of sorrow proved to be futile.

yet, in the fleeting instant that ensued, akari’s next words swiftly dissipated all of her concerns, replacing them with a comforting sensation that enveloped her like a cozy embrace, leaving her head swirling with warmth and delight.

"i saw this earlier and...” lost in wonder, she absentmindedly, yet carefully toyed with the object, her voice trailing off. extending it towards the bewildered maiden in front of her, she resumed, "it’s for you. i saw it earlier, and thought of you."

in response, eva’s stunning eyes widened. "m-me?" she stammered, a mix of disbelief and bashfulness evident in her voice, along with a profound sense of gratitude.

trembling slightly, eva reached out, her fingertips gently brushing against the hairpin, treating it as if it were an exquisitely delicate treasure. "this is for...me?" she repeated, as if struggling to grasp the reality of the situation.

akari simply nodded. in contrast, her features still withheld any hint of her internal musings. "yes, for you."

"just for you."

at the lack of typically verbal responses, her head tilted slightly as she arched a brow, "is it not to your liking?—“

"that’s not it!!"

the glacier pillar swiftly interjected, shaking her head vigorously, causing the winter pillar to worry that she might become dizzy.

“huh?..”

“the contrary, actually..” releasing a heartfelt sigh, eva shifted her gaze, tenderly looking at the gift she had just received, a loving smile gracing her lips. "i like it, a lot.” she confessed.

she turned her gaze back to akari, her smile softening even further. "i love it, actually.” she whispered.

her eyes fluttered shut, forming a closed-eyed smile that gradually transformed into a cheerful grin as her head swayed slightly to the right, reminiscent of a joyful dance.

as the diaphanous breeze danced through the air, its celestial touch gracefully tousled eva’s lustrous locks as the sun joined in this symphony of beauty, casting its golden rays upon her countenance, illuminating her features with a resplendent radiance. her smile, a beacon of joy, radiated a warmth that had akari mesmerized, rendering her unable to divert her gaze from the majestic sight before her.

"you really are pretty.”

in response, a rosy blush bloomed across eva’s cheeks, the flush of warmth coloring her delicate visage.

she lowered her gaze, her fingers tenderly tracing the contours of the precious object she held—a reflection of the tender emotions that stirred within her. the subtle intensity of her feelings ignited a longing within her soul, a yearning for more moments such as these.

a gentle sigh escaped the hashira’s lips, a melody of mingled pleasure and vulnerability. "you.." she murmured, her words laced with a hint of playful defiance, "you should really stop with those out-of-nowhere compliments." she pouted, her eyes gracefully closing as she sought refuge in the solace of darkness, a brief respite to regain her composure. though she cherished the accolades bestowed upon her, a lingering fear whispered in her thoughts, warning of the perilous bewitch of such sweet words.

it just might be the cause of her death someday. the extravagancy of the thought nagged at the glacier pillar’s mind, causing her to let out a modest chuckle that merely fueled the winter pillar’s confusion.

wasn’t she simply stating the truth? that was the only fact reverberating in akari’s mind as she attentively absorbed eva’s words. however, the winter pillar quickly brushed aside her perplexity as her ears were blessed with the sound of the glacier pillar's laughter.

how melodic it was...

as eva’s honeyed giggles continued to reverberate in the depths of akari’s mind, the heavenly maiden within her imagination had already fixated the exquisite ornament to her hair.

however, just as she was about to delicately secure the hairpin in place, a familiar gloved hand benignly interposed, halting her graceful movement.

with utmost grace, akari relinquished the delicate treasure from her grasp and gracefully descended onto her knees, a dancer's poise enshrining her every motion. she meticulously shuffled closer to eva, her eyes gleaming with an unspoken intention, as if she were an artist composing a masterpiece.

slowly, yet deliberately, akari positioned the hairpin on the right side of eva’s lustrous tresses, forsaking the left with a careful precision. every movement was executed with a refined elegance, as if she were an artisan sculpting an ephemeral masterpiece.

"that’s better…" she murmured, her voice a gentle caress, her breath mingling with the air as she tenderly brushed a stray strand away from eva’s enchanting visage.

as the lovestruck maiden’s irises quivered with an indescribable feeling, her heart pounded with the intensity of a symphony, as if it were an instrument played by the divine.

her lips, delicately pursed, mirrored the graceful curvature of akari’s own, forming a sublime duet of emotion and desire.

the winter pillar’s smile, faint yet resplendent, held an air of perfection in eva’s eyes—a fleeting moment of flawlessness that seemed to transcend the boundaries of mortal existence.

"i would prefer if this hairpin didn’t get in the way of that streak of your hair." akari uttered, her words an enchanting incantation that held both longing and reverence. the subtle plea in her voice carried an unspoken desire to preserve the natural beauty that adorned eva’s being, to honor the ethereal essence that danced with every strand.

in that sublime instant, bathed in the sun's golden rays that transformed the sakuranbo into a canvas of warmth and luminosity, they found themselves enveloped in an otherworldly realm.

there, the boundaries between dreams and reality blurred, and a humble object possessed the extraordinary ability to ignite a love that surpassed the confines of time and space.

—spring, where and when i fell even more for you.

#❄️ 𝐫𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢⎯⎯ #❄️💞 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢— #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #original character #demon slayer oc #demon slayer x oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kimetsu no yaiba x oc #kny #kny oc #ds #oc x oc #when can i have an akari #when can i have an eva

[torukmaktoskxawng]

your point in your recent post is sooo true! but idk i don’t think the water is Acidic since Spider swam in it

Referencing this post:

Guys, please keep sending stuff like this, I love talking about the lore and world of Pandora!

Maybe calling it acidic was exaggerating on my part lol, but I know I read somewhere that the water, scientifically, wouldn't be good for humans. Sources vary depending on where you read them, but Pandoran water can damage human skin if exposed for too long. Something to do with the pH scale?

I'm gonna shamelessly plug in an excerpt from my fic (not because it's a viable source but just because. Bear with me):

Spider stood beside Max as Mo'at was handing him down some healing properties.

"Koaktutra," the tsahik placed a small wooden cup covered in a matching lid in Spider's hands.

Max noticed Kayla's confusion so he elaborates, "Goblin Thistle. Antibiotic balm."

Mo'at nodded to Max's explanation then handed another small mixture to Spider, "Pxorna'."

"Episoth," Max explained, "It's got amazing skin rejuvenation properties, and I think it'll help Spider when he goes into the water."

He takes the mixture from Spider and holds it up to the teenager's face, "As long as you remember to slather yourself in this stuff every night after a long day of swimming, it should help prevent skin cancer and chemical burns. These salves have proven to be safe for human use, I promise. If I happen to visit the island again and I don't see any changes to your skin, then maybe we'll be able to cut the episoth back to once a week and eventually even less so if your skin grows immunity to the pH levels. Until then, every night, bud. 'You got it?"

Spider huffs and rolls his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Good. And just in case--" Max then holds up a remedy of his own, a small plastic yellow tube that makes Kayla snort with amusement at the sight of it. Sunscreen. 

Spider's upper lip twitched at the sight of the tube and half glared at Max, "Seriously?"

"Humor me."

"Fine."

I pulled Mo'at's healing mixtures from the book "James Cameron's Avatar: An Activist Survival Guide."

Apparently, these specific plants or healing ingredients do help anti-aging back on Earth and go for a lot of money (no surprise there), so I guess there are SOME elements on Pandora that help humans.

If we think about what happens on Earth: our oxygen cycles through our water and eventually goes back up into the air. What about Pandora? If the air is toxic to humans, wouldn't that filter into the water as well?

Then again, James Cameron has admitted that he's constantly changing lore and canon so sources that were once accurate before might not be now.

And it's possible that Spider is immune to certain elements on Pandora since he was born and raised there. Or he's just got tougher skin. We already know that he's canonically strong, but who knows!

~~~

More Avatar Questions!

#avatar 2009 #james camerons avatar #avatar #avatar 2022 #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #james cameron avatar #james cameron #pandora #the world of pandora #pandorapedia #ask anla

[greycaelum]

Hi Grey! Can I submit a request for Kaleidoscope Series: Love Me Now, Love Me Never Chapters. Scene #1 and #72.

[Gentle Affection Collections]

Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader

[Gentle Affections Collections]

Request 1 & 72 [ List is here ]

—goodnight kisses & burying the head in the spaces of his/her neck

Notes & Warning: fluff, clingy & touch starved Satoru, a pinch of angst if you squint, domestic eve, Word Count: 1.2k

"Thank you for joining, I hope you like it!" —Grey

Sheets

What is a good evening? If you were to ask Satoru that question years ago, without hesitance he would answer a mediocre type of night. 'take out for dinner, a cold bath, and uninterrupted sleep'

It was when his cold sheets and aircon in the full blast were enough to drown his exhaustion, his curtain blind shut, and not a single ray of moonlight could irritate his sensitive eyes for the next three hours of the wee morn.

"Which mask do you want for tonight, 'Toru?"

But it isn't the same evening he wishes for anymore.

You strut into the bedroom and climb on the bed. Satoru paused the game he was playing and took off his glasses at your cute figure crawling up and straddled his lap, two packets of face masks in your hand.

"Is this the one you bought last week?" His lips pursed to point to your right hand whilst his hands found your legs to steady you above his abdomen. Your sweet weight crushes him just the way he wants it to be. He could admire you sitting on top of him doing this quixotic domesticity for hours.

"Yeah, your skin is so dry."

He can't argue with that. Not that sleeping at 1 in the morning and getting out of bed by 4 will rejuvenate him. Taking off his glasses and setting them aside. You rip off the lid and slowly lay the cold damp sheet above his face, careful fingers padded the sheet to play with his angular cheeks.

"Your jaws are so prominent 'Toru," you mumbled to yourself making him chuckle.

"Well, ain't you lucky? Snagging a guy such as me with pretty jaws." He hummed in confidence and closed his eyes.

You shrug and your fingers slowly travel to his supple pink lips. It is hard to comprehend how such lips could be this naturally glossy to the point of envy. They're the very same lips that never fail to take your breath away from every kiss Satoru offers.

"...!"

Satoru's eyes shot open. A soft and moist touch captured his lips in a gentle manner and left as quick as it arrived. He stared as you lick your lips and giggled unabashed.

"I thought you're gonna sleep." You reasoned out and made a move to get off of him but Satoru grabbed your thighs, putting you back in place.

"Continue what you were doing." He grunts.

"I wasn't doing anything," you nonchalantly replied and pulled away, this time Satoru let you off. A slight drop from his eyes while he watches you saunter to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

The nights of tossing around wide awake with demons under his bed looming over him the moment he closes his eyes have become a distant memory that Satoru barely remembers. Since you came along, nights of tranquil domesticity became a norm, perhaps the only routine that he will get used to no matter how repetitive it is.

He hates routines, the idea of doing the same thing over and over again makes Satoru's muscles stiff, reminding him of his monochrome childhood that barely had anything good to remember. But the way you go under the covers and pull them up your shoulder, like second nature your head buries in the juncture of Satoru's neck with the tip of your nose faintly nuzzling his skin.

"Night," you murmured leaning upward to press a chaste kiss on Satoru's puckered lips.

He quickly captured your lower lip and nibbled on it before letting go and giving you one more loud smack making you giggle and hit his chest.

"G'night Baby,"

He cooed at your sleepy yawn, long arms snaking over the back of your shoulders, rubbing circles as Satoru watched over you to fall asleep and bury your face into his chest. You look so precious squeezed against him. Pressing one more kiss on your forehead he shifted you closer and let sleep overcome him

In the middle of the night, your parched throat woke you up. Satoru has long turned to his side of the bed, curled up, and thrown the covers off his feet. It's amazing how he can sleep with only his boxers on and not get a stomachache in the morning from the cold.

Pitter-patters on the roof slowly turn into huge drops of rain, and lightning and thunder soon followed. The thunderstorm from tonight's forecast seems to have moved earlier than expected. Hopefully, you won't sleep in the morning, everyone knows how hard it is to leave the bed on a cloudy day.

You finished the glass of water and tiptoed down the bed to close the curtains. Satoru easily wakes up with the movement of light but surprisingly not a sliver of movement or sound came from him. Walking back to the bed you brush the fringes that fell over his forehead and pull the blanket up his stomach. He mumbled inaudible words completely freezing you in place as he turn to sleep on his back.

A sharp flash of lightning followed by the whipping sound of booming thunder almost made you jump, even Satoru frowned in his sleep but didn't wake up anyway.

You stared at his slightly ajar lips, Satoru lightly snore every time he takes a breath. It's terribly rare to even catch Satoru sleeping like a log. Propping your elbows to support your head you watch him sleep, he looks cute and lovable like this. Satoru is only cute when he's asleep, when he's awake he's a menace. An obnoxious but your lovable menace. The thought made you smile, a little bit tempted to pinch his cheeks smooshed against your shoulders.

"Sleep lots," you whispered adoringly, hoping he would sleep as much as he wants without any bad dreams. You lean in to press your lips over his, nudging his cheeks with the tip of your nose, and went back to your side of the bed with a smile.

"Baby," Satoru raspily groaned, pulling the blanket off his waist and wiggling his way to you. One blue eye opened, staring at you drowsily as he press his bare torso body against you, tangling his legs with yours.

"Awake? Sleep some more." You murmured between the rain drops pouring on the roof. Pulling back the blanket he has thrown away you cover it over your waists. Amidst the chilly blast of the aircon and the coldness of the rain, the faint coziness and warmth of the sheets cocooned the two of you.

"Why're you not 'sleep?" Satoru slurred, burying his face into your neck. He took a deep breath and softly sighed. It was almost your imagination, but Satoru nuzzled the tip of his nose to your neck and clutch you tighter, like a child seeking warmness from the algid winter.

"Stop talking and sleep," you yawned and threaded your fingers into his hair, a pleasure you know he is addicted to, something that easily melts your unbridled man-child into a purring and sleepy mess. And just as you expected, Satoru languidly litters whatnot kisses on your neck that slowly faded and he fell asleep just the same as you did. Clutching each other under the sheets with sleepy murmurs and kisses.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned image(s) and song(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya

#[gentle affection collections] #lmnchapters #kaleidoscope series #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo reader x y/n #greycaelum #jkk gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru fluff

[tarrenterror25]

also what if miguel falls asleep. at his desk or on a couch or on somebody's shoulder. guard down eyes closed. "i'm just gonna rest my eyes a bit--" *snooork mimimimi*. what then

The poor baby 🥺💕

Miguel one hundred percent falls asleep at his desk; head resting in his palm, elbow on the desk and his eyes just close. He'll wake up like every few minutes and every little sound or Lyla suddenly saying something will jolt him awake, but he's so tired and he'll switch arms, change positions thinking that'll keep him awake, but he still falls asleep.

Peter finds Miguel sleeping in his chair; arms crossed and head tilted down, breathing soundly and Peter makes sure that no one bothers the boss man for awhile.

Sometimes, the gang catches Miguel completely in a non-defensive sleep position in his chair; head back, open mouth snoring, arms loosely over his chest/stomach or off to the side. It takes ALL of Hobie's strength to not do something every time.

I don't think Miguel feels comfortable being far from his office/lab since that seems to be where he monitors all the multiverse stuff so he for sure sneaks in the Spider-Therapists' office when he goes to lunch for a nap on the couch.

Just imagine-

This hulking 6'9" 300lb man trying to lay on the chaise lounge. He's fallen off a few times off the side of it. He definitely pushes it together with another couch/chair in the room.

Miguel thinks no one knows, but everyone knows he's napping in there. Peter brings him a blanket and pillow because with those neck muscles the man needs the head support.

Imagine-

Miguel standing next to someone during a mission briefing and while someone's talking he just-

He's totally pretending that it didn't just happen and out of embarrassment doesn't make eye contact with the person. Arms crossed, eyes forward, a deep inhale/exhale through his nose and a few good blinks to wake himself up though his eyes are clearly still half lidded with exhaustion.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚ Bonus ˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Remember how Peter kept telling Miles to hold Mayday and that is was very rejuvenating? Yeah, he's said this to Miguel before and probably finally got Miguel to hold her then quickly "left" (not really) and Miguel has fallen asleep holding Mayday.

Self projecting a bit here, but I've got a kiddo and it is incredibly difficult for me to fall asleep BUT as soon as I so much as close my eyes near kiddo (while holding them or what have you) it is GAME OVER. Oh, I'm just gonna lay here with them and then I'll get up and go back to doing-ZZZZZZZZZ. Everytime.

Miguel is no exception, I don't care how tough he is, he falls asleep with that baby on his chest or in his arms from time to time.

#miguel o'hara thoughts #miguel o'hara blurb #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #soft miguel o’hara

[hexora]

Lunar Water Infusion Vessel: Elevating Your Hydration Experience with Celestial Energy

🌟 The Essence of Lunar Water Infusion:

Immerse yourself in a realm where lunar energy converges with hydration, where the celestial dance of the moon becomes an integral part of your daily routine. The Lunar Water Infusion Vessel elevates the act of drinking water to a spiritual experience, harnessing the ethereal qualities of the moon to enhance the subtle properties of the water it holds.

💧 Key Features of the Lunar Water Infusion Vessel:

Design Elegance: The vessel's design is a harmonious blend of functionality and aesthetics. Crafted with precision, it provides an exquisite platform for lunar water infusion while adding an element of sophistication to your hydration ritual.

Crystal Clarity: The Lunar Water Infusion Vessel is made from high-quality, crystal-clear glass that allows for an unobstructed view of the water within. This transparency accentuates the purity of the water and facilitates a visual connection with the lunar infusion process.

Energy Transfer Mechanism: Engineered with precision, the vessel maximizes the interaction between water molecules and lunar energy. The unique design optimizes the infusion process, ensuring that each sip carries the subtle yet potent influence of the moon.

Convenience in Utility: The vessel's ergonomic design considers ease of use, making it a seamless addition to your daily routine. A secure lid and non-drip spout enhance practicality, allowing you to savor the lunar-infused water effortlessly.

🌙 The Ritual of Lunar Water Infusion:

Preparation: Begin by selecting pure, high-quality water to fill the Lunar Water Infusion Vessel, ensuring a pristine canvas for lunar energy transmission.

Alignment: Position the vessel in a place where it can bask in the moonlight during the designated infusion period. The vessel's design facilitates optimal exposure to lunar energies.

Intention Setting: Before commencing the infusion, express your intentions for the lunar-charged water. Channel your aspirations and desired influences into the water, creating a personalized energetic resonance.

Infusion Process: Allow the water to bask in the moonlight for the specified duration. The Lunar Water Infusion Vessel orchestrates a seamless transmission of lunar energies into the water, imbuing it with the celestial essence.

Consumption: Delight in the enhanced flavor and rejuvenating qualities of your lunar-infused water. Consciously savor each sip as you absorb the subtle energies bestowed by the moon.

#witchcraft #water magic #sea witch #ocean spells #river rituals #lunar tides #water witchery #aquatic enchantments #spellwork by the shore #mermaid vibes #underwater energy #moonlit reflections #potion crafting #mystical waters #sacred wells #divination by water #nautical spells #tidal energy #sea goddess #river nymph #oceanic mysticism #water alchemy #rainwater spells #storm magic #lake rituals #enchanted seas #water spirits #aquatic symbolism #crystal-infused baths #maritime witch

[bluestar22x]

Whole Lot Of Leavin

The Writing Contest - Chapter 3: Whole Lot Of Leavin'

Summary: When Nora and Javi finish their script, it's time to say goodbye [for now].

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Female!OC (Nora Delaine)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 2,300 (ish)

Warnings: Romantic angst

Author’s Note: Nearly made myself cry and this isn't even the last of the angst. This being kind of a bridge chapter I decided I'd write it and post an update way sooner than usual.

xxx

"Life with you is never too painful or too dull, angel. It was true forty years ago, and it is now. Your insights, the way you see the world drew me in, and has kept me. My life was anguished and boring before you, not after. I'll never see it any other way. You showed me what it was to live a meaningful life and that's all I could ask for."

You grinned and clapped enthusiastically as Javi dramatically finished reading the last line of your screenplay from the page you'd printed up and bowed comically after, grinning right back at you, an expression that made your heart flutter.

"I think we've done it," he said brightly.

"I think we have too," you agreed. "I cannot imagine any other way to end it. Angie and Nolan being happy in their old age, despite their past hardships, because they have each other. It's romantic in the highest degree, but it's also real. Their lives were far from perfect, but they were perfect for each other."

"You are a poet," Javi declared proudly. "I could not have worded it better myself!"

"You're a bit of one yourself," you told him, a smile tugging at your lips. He was cute when he got excited. "I liked that 'has kept me' bit. It might be bordering too poetic for a modern movie, but what the hell, it's perfect. And Nolan is a sap so it checks out."

Javi chuckled. "Maybe so, but I quite relate to him in some ways."

"Mmmm, the troubled family?"

"For one," he said somberly, though he did not go on to list other similarities they had.

Great going, Nora, you thought, regretting bringing it up. You knew his family was a touchy subject. You should've known better.

You cleared your throat to take the awkwardness out of the moment. "So, how do you feel having written your first real romantic script?"

"Like I want to do it all over again," he told you, his positive energy rejuvenating as soon as you'd gotten the question out. "I always feel that way after I complete a story, but this one is extra special."

"Please," you said, brushing off his comment, “There are one hundred other stories just like it."

"Just like, but not quite," he argued passionately. "Yours is more compelling than any romance I've read or seen in a long time."

"Ours," you corrected him.

"Ours," Javi repeated, "Yes, the details are ours. But it was always your creation, Nora."

You nodded, not sure how to respond to that. Maybe you didn't need to say anything, but not doing so was foreign to you. You weren't used to easily accepting praise. Most of the time you didn't feel worthy of it, doubt a constant friend in your life, a toxic one who always knocked down your sails.

"So, we've got our final draft," you began as Javi returned to his seat next to you. "What's next?"

"Next we email it to Walter and he sends it out to some of the film companies we've worked with before," he answered, "If none of them buy the script he'll extend the offer to others. But I'm confident one of the companies I've worked with in the past will take it. Lionsgate especially has expressed interest in taking up another screenplay from me."

"You really think it's theater worthy?" you asked, chewing on the cap of the pen in your hand nervously.

"Of course!"

"So when are you going to email it?"

"No time like now," Javi decided, flipping the lid to his laptop up. "That way Walter has a couple days before the weekend hits to reach out."

You watched as he typed up an email to Walter and linked the completed screenplay to him under the title "California Dreamers", your placeholder name for the script. Javi had warned you that often times studios or directors changed the names of screenplays once they started filming, but you still hoped whoever picked it up would see the need for that particular title. It played an important role in the story as far as you were concerned.

After Javi submitted the screenplay to Walter you both looked at each other blankly, unsure of what to do with your nearly nine week long project completed.

"What do we do while we wait for news?" you inquired.

He sighed. "We do whatever we want. I usually turn my focus back on the vineyard, or take a vacation. You...you can stay a while if you'd like, but you do not need to stay. You can go back home, be with your family and friends. There's nothing left to do that we can't do by email or video chat."

"So this is it," you realized, feeling heavy. You did miss your family, Sierra, and your rabbits, but you'd miss Valley View, and you didn't want to say goodbye to Javi.

"Only for now," he stated cheerfully, "We've got the premiere to go to when the film is released, after all, and then award season."

"Please," you said, trying to push away the part of you that wanted to entertain the idea of what it would be like to win any kind of award for your writing. "It's only my first screenplay. There's no way."

"Never say never!" he exclaimed, squeezing your shoulder. "There have been worst odds."

You couldn't deny that, you supposed.

x

He found you sitting on the stone bench by the Koi pond, tossing leftover cooked peas to them and watching the colorful mass of them swarm for an opportunity to eat one. There were a good thirty or so of them in the pond so it was entertaining to observe. You tried to make sure they all got at least one.

It was a good distraction from what you'd have to do next.

"Nora, what are you doing back here? You're going to be late."

You turned to see Javi approaching you, a wayward wavy lock of hair flopped over his forehead. Even disheveled he was ridiculously handsome.

"Wanted to say goodbye," you told him, gesturing towards the fish. "As silly as that is."

"It's not silly," he responded, shaking his head. "Koi are very intelligent for fish. They recognize the ones who feed them."

You smiled up at him fondly. "Thanks, but I doubt I've fed them often enough for them to remember me. I don't need them to. I'll miss them because I'll miss Valley View. I've never said it to you before, but this place is special, Jav."

"It is," he agreed. "And it's only a flight away. You can visit whenever you'd like."

"Thanks," you said gratefully, your smile turning wispy, "I might take you up on that offer."

"Please do." The tone in his voice was so genuine you wanted to cry.

As much as you'd miss his home, you'd miss Javi much more. Having spent every day of the last two months with him you'd gotten used to him being around. Felt close to him. You didn't want your friendship to turn long distance. You'd had a taste of what that was like with Sierra while you were staying at Valley View. You hated saying goodbye to Javi, but there was no denying a part of you was anxious to return home too, if nothing else for her, your rabbits, and your beloved old couch.

The part that wanted to stay silently tried to bargain. A few more days. You could cancel your flight and stay just a few more days. You knew Javi wouldn't mind, the cost of a commercial airline ticket was nothing to him, and you had been a little quick on the trigger buying your ticket back to North Dakota, having purchased it the same night you'd wrapped the screenplay. You had booked a flight that would take off two days later. At the time you'd thought it smart, rip the Band-Aid off smart, but with the two days having passed in a blur, you regretted it. If you stayed for the weekend you and Javi could go out one last time, maybe back to that bar you'd gone to for your birthday...

No. It was better this way.

"Let me drive you to the airport," Javi insisted, drawing you out of your thoughts.

Not trusting your words, you just nodded your yes. You could let him do that.

Ten minutes later you fetched your suitcase and overnight bag from the little house on the far side of the property and shoved them into the backseat of his dark green Land Rover.

Javi climbed into the driver's seat while you did so, and you joined him up front within a few seconds. As soon as you were buckled in and he'd put on sunglasses, he started driving to the airport. It was sunny and in the high sixties that day, so you opened the passenger window a crack, sucking in the fresh air as it rolled in. You watched as the now familiar landscape passed by, or rather, as you passed it by. Would you ever see it again? You quietly wondered. There was always a chance you wouldn't, so you tried to memorize it, just in case.

Javi was unusually subdued during the ride, his brief words here and there awkward and stiff. He mentioned that Walter had sent the screenplay to the last company on their list that morning and it was just a waiting game now to see who would make an offer for it. You'd simply nodded and kept your eyes on the world outside the vehicle, trying to hold back a sudden surge of confusing emotions.

It came to a head on the sidewalk in front of the airport's main entrance, after you'd gathered your belongings from the backseat and turned to Javi one last time.

He’d slid his sunglasses off his face and tucked them into a shirt pocket, the subtitle sadness in his exposed brown eyes making your heart ache.

"Goodbye, for now," he said, trying to force a smile, to create the illusion of him being his cheerful self. "Don't look so upset, eh? This is just the beginning. We've still got a lot to do once the script's picked up. Like going to the premiere."

"Video chatting won't be the same," you admitted to him.

"I meant what I said," he told you, "You can visit anytime."

"Thanks." You barely got out the word due to the lump forming in your throat. Was the cause sadness or regret?

"Come 'ere," Javi demanded softly, gesturing for you to hug him. You smiled and walked into his arms, swallowing hard as he squeezed you tight. You kept silently trying to remind yourself that this really wasn't going to be a permanent goodbye, but that still left you mourning the last two months. Things would never be the same.

"Bye, Javi." On impulse you gave him a peck on the cheek before spinning away and ambling into the building, not giving him a chance to return your words, and not allowing yourself to see his startled reaction.

You refused to look back.

x

"Nora!" Sierra squealed as soon as she opened her front door to see you standing before her. "You're back!"

She jumped into your arms and you yelped at the surprise embrace. "You knew I was coming home today," you reminded her. You'd called to let her know as soon as the plane ticket had been bought, before you'd even told your parents.

"Seeing is believing," she chimed. "It's good to have you back."

"You too." It really was. Even taking her brief visit for your birthday in account this had been the longest time you'd both spent apart, having grown up in the same town and been friends ever since you could remember.

"You anxious to see Buttercup and Tux?" she quizzed.

"Dying," you claimed, grinning ear to ear. "How have they been?"

"Same as when you last asked me yesterday," she replied, snorting. "Come on. They're munching on hay in their playpen."

She lead you through the kitchen of her old rental and into the living room. There next to her couch was a metal fenced playpen with two Miniature Lop rabbits inside.

The bigger one was also the oldest, a spayed butterscotch and white female. She was brushing shoulders with her younger pal, a black spotted male. They'd come with their names when you'd rescued them from the local animal shelter three years ago. You couldn't argue with them being named after their colors, and Buttercup looked very sweet with the heart shaped patch on her rump.

You climbed into the pen with them and sat cross legged as you petted them. "You guys have no idea how much I missed you," you gushed.

"Hopefully not as much as me," Sierra teased.

"It's a toss up," you joked and she huffed.

"Well, at least it's a toss up."

You scooped up Tux and placed him on your lap, one of his most favorite places to be. He continued to chew on the hay in his mouth as you stroked him slowly.

"So, how'd it go saying goodbye?" Sierra asked in a gentle tone. "You okay?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. "Cause you have feelings for Javi and now he's states away."

"Javi and I are friends," you told her as you played with one of Tux's long ears, "He didn’t stop me from leaving and he sent me a thumbs up emoji when I texted him to let him know I landed safely.”

"You two are both idiots," Sierra muttered, sounding exasperated.

"Even if you were right about him being interested in me in that way," you began, "We would have never worked out."

"Keep telling yourself that," she retorted.

"I have to," you said quietly, so low she didn't catch it.

Despite your previous conviction, deep in the crevices of your mind, doubt was starting to seep in.

Naturally, you refused to pay attention to it.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Javi Gutierrez #The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent #Javi G Fanfic (Mine) #OFC Fanfic #The Writing Contest Series

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Bête Noire (Part II)

Part I

Credit to https://ncis-world.livejournal.com/26564.html for portions of the script!

“Sir, when Hamas leaders start blowing themselves up, I'll consider it.” Gibbs concluded his meeting with the director gruffly, bounding down the stairs and toward his desk, mind playing around with theories about the terrorist downstairs in the autopsy freezer. He plucked your note off his computer screen, smile blooming across his face just as you had intended. Taking a seat, he popped the lid of his coffee off and gratefully took a sip, feeling the caffeine working to rejuvenate his body.

Whistling to get Tony’s attention, Gibbs asked, “Is Y/N still here?”

“She went to drop something off to Ducky but hasn’t come back up, Boss. I guess she went straight back to work from there. What does ‘Dub’ stand for?”

“Stands for ‘Get your ass back to work’, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled in response, frowning down at his watch. Your break shouldn’t have ended yet, so why weren’t you back upstairs with him? He loved stealing these little moments in the middle of the day, enjoying the way you spoke so passionately about your cases and patients. You always told him that he was a hero, but he thought you were the real hero, the one out there performing difficult surgeries and saving animals’ lives and keeping families whole.

Gibbs was pulled out of his thoughts by a black blur anxiously pacing back and forth on the bridge, so he headed upstairs to investigate. “Abby?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

She sighed heavily, looking down at the floor as she mumbled, “I was having an internal debate.”

“Hm. Who’s winning?” Gibbs couldn’t help but grin, loving her unique quirkiness and how it often reminded him of you.

“I’m not sure,” she shrugged. “Oh, hell, the phobic side.”

“Still can’t enter Autopsy?” he asked softly, sensitive to her fear after you had ordered him to never pressure her into taking the elevator down to that floor.

“No.”

Deciding it was better to move on from that topic for now, he changed the subject. “Did you find any tag traces of explosives on the terrorist's clothes?”

“Ducky took everything back before I had a chance to test it,” she explained.

“What?” Gibbs barked, exasperated. There was a potential terrorist cell on US soil and they were wasting precious time.

“Don't look at me,” Abby responded, throwing her hands up. “He wouldn't say why. He just wanted everything back, including the blood.”

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, curious. “Including the blood?”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird,” she conceded. “There's no way to do a blood test in Autopsy.”

“Gerald pick it up?”

Abby shook her head. “Gerald called in sick today. Ducky just wanted me down there stat.”

“Stat?” Gibbs’ heart rate started to pick up, and he motioned for Abby to follow as he went back downstairs to the main bullpen.

“Yeah,” she started, almost running to keep up with his long strides, “and I wouldn't go, so Y/N took it down.”

His heart dropped, and the pounding of blood in his ears drowned out the regular humdrum of the bullpen. “Tony,” he snapped, “get Autopsy on the plasma.”

Tony sat up with a start, fumbling for the TV remote. “Huh?”

“Autopsy. TV. Now!” Gibbs barked. “Why would Ducky say stat?”

“Because he's a doctor, and because stat means fast, and...” Abby trailed off as she put the pieces together, Gibbs’ voice joining her to conclude, “…medical emergency.”

“But what is a medical emergency in autopsy?” he asked aloud to no one in particular.

“All I’m getting is snow,” Tony grimaced, and the team leader’s heart sank again.

___

The assailant collected the box from its spot on the floor where you had dropped it when the bullet entered your arm. Pressing his gun into the small of your back, he guided you inside the autopsy suite where he promptly patted you down before instructing you to sit on one of the tables. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to stay quiet and not give this bastard any information to use against you or your husband’s team. Gibbs would soon put the pieces together and fix this mess. All you needed was to buy him time.

___

“Punch up autopsy receiving and stairwell cameras, then the building floor plans.”

“On it, Boss,” Tony nodded, now all business.

Gibbs took out his cell and angrily pressed several buttons before lifting the device to his ear. “Gibbs for Director. Abby-” he turned to his right to speak directly to her. “Ducky sound funny?”

“Kinda tense,” she recalled, “like when a test result isn't what he expected.”

Nodding grimly, he returned to his phone call. “Director. We may have intruders in autopsy. Possible hostage situation.”

“Ah, we got an ambulance outside of autopsy receiving, Boss,” Tony piped up, pointing to one of the camera views.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Gibbs held his index finger up to indicate for Tony to hold on that information. “Yes, sir. I think we should alert HRT and open a command center in MTAC. Aye, sir.”

Hanging up and turning to Tony, he requested to see the floor plan again, then ordered the younger agent to call the hospital where you worked and see if you had returned. Your husband called your phone, leaving a voicemail imploring you to please call back.

Realizing that staring at the phone and willing it to ring was a fruitless endeavor, Gibbs turned his attention to his plan, mapping out where he wanted to position agents: two in receiving, two in the elevator. The team coordinated their walkie-talkies to the same channel before Gibbs returned to the floor plans on the screen and picked up the remote from the table.

“DiNozzo?” Gibbs looked to his subordinate, desperate for Tony to hang up the phone and report that yes, you were fine, your break was over, and you were simply back to work so you couldn’t check your cell.

Tony slowly shook his head, mouth pulled into a tight line, and Gibbs felt his heart drop into his stomach for the third time that day. “Get Ducky on the phone,” he instructed Kate.

It took several rings, but Ducky’s voice finally floated through the speakerphone in greeting. They exchanged pleasantries under the guise of a normal work day before Gibbs got to the heart of the call. “Why’d you need all the evidence back, Duck?” he asked, looking skeptically at the other members of his team crowded around the phone.

“Well, Jethro, seeing as it necessitates shutting the entirety of the autopsy suite off to the rest of the building, I wanted to be doubly sure we’re dealing with a true infectious case. I'll call back with the results soon,” he said hurriedly, followed by the distinct click of the receiver.

“Son of a bitch!” Gibbs roared, readying his fist to punch a hole in the nearest wall but pulling back at the last second, thinking it best not to destroy government property before HRT came in.

“Gibbs?” Kate asked softly, unsure of what exactly had just transpired and alarmed by his outburst. “What’s going on?” She and Tony had missed the nuanced tone of Ducky emphasizing the first syllable of “doubly.”

“That bastard has my wife, too.”

Gibbs took a deep breath to center himself. You were in danger, and he needed to keep a clear head to get you back safe in his arms, where you belonged, where he could protect you from the evils of the world. “Abs, how do I rotate this thing?” he asked, inclining his head toward the floor plans.

“Just tell me what you need,” she responded, taking the remote from his hand and giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Your lab and autopsy,” he instructed. “All entrances and exits. Give me 360.” She began rotating the plans and he got closer to the screen, squinting at it. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, go, go, go - stop, right there. What's this right here?” He pointed to a structure along the wall of her lab.

Abby supplied, “My gas chromatograph.”

“Can it be moved?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. She would heave it aside herself if it meant getting some information, guilt eating away at her for sending you down there.

“Do it,” he ordered, snapping her out of her guilt trip. “Then I need a drill and a flexible video probe.”

___

“Who are you?” the man holding you hostage demanded yet again. You stared him down, defiant, refusing to dignify him with a response. “A Special Agent?” he questioned, tapping the muzzle of the gun against your cheek. You flinched inadvertently at the cold metal and the power it held, making him grin.

“Did you shoot Qasam?” He sneered in your face. “Did you put that double tap in his heart?” Your heart skipped a beat. You only knew one man with the skill and precision to shoot someone in the heart-twice. Seeing a flicker of recognition flit across your features, he pressed the gun against your thigh.

Then he pulled the trigger.

“Fuck!” you cried out, clutching your leg and willing yourself to not pass out from the pain.

“She didn’t shoot him!” Ducky screamed, jumping to your aid. He whispered soothing words to you as he put pressure on the wound, and you squeezed your eyes shut, a few tears leaking past the tight barrier of your lids.

“Who did?” the man asked coldly, nonchalantly, as if he himself hadn’t just shot a human twice in the span of ten minutes.

Voice dripping with hatred, Ducky reluctantly supplied, “Special Agent Gibbs.”

___

“We’ve got audio and visual!” Kate announced, turning up the volume on the plasma screen.

“That name rings a bell, Dr. Mallard,” the terrorist on screen mused, pacing in front of you. “But it still doesn’t tell me who you are, Miss…?”

“It’s Doctor, actually,” you corrected through gritted teeth, unwilling and frankly unable to provide more information in your current state. You found yourself in awe, yet again, of how your husband dealt with similar wounds so casually on the job. The mere thought of him brought a sense of calmness over you, and you resolved that you would get out of this alive if only to see that gorgeous smile and kiss him one last time.

“Doctor…?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at his insistence to know your name, you answered simply, “Gibbs.” Jethro had wanted you to keep your maiden name when you got married since it was written on your doctorate, but you wouldn’t listen. It was your simple way of proving to him that he would not be a four-time divorcée.

The young man’s eyes lit up, and he descended upon you with a wolfish grin. “You’re Gibbs’ daughter?”

“I’m his wife, you ageist fuck,” you snapped back, eyes flashing with defiance.

Despite the severity of the situation and the way his heart clenched at the sight of your wounds, Gibbs couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched your grainy visage pull into a snarl. “That’s my girl,” he mumbled to himself, proud of you for not succumbing to fear in the face of danger.

“Tony, zoom in,” Gibbs requested, the camera getting a clear shot of the assailant’s face seconds before a gunshot rang out and the screen went blank again. “Guess he knows we're onto him.”

Part III

#jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #ncis imagine #ncis #jethro gibbs imagine #jethro gibbs x y/n #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader