#leads to a very strained relationship

[mirrorofliterature]

here's an opinion that i don't necessarily entirely agree with but i think it has great points and i'm curious to hear your take on it:

while molly weasley was very far from a perfect mother and made many mistakes, it's as good as a human person can do under the circumstances she grew up and lived in (two wars, losing her brothers and many friends, her husband and kids constantly being in danger, living under constant threat of war, financial status, treatment by other families etc.) and the fandom judges her way too harshly while characters who were much worse parental figures and were plain out horrible and neglectful (especially men) get off the hook very easily

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

I agree in part - this may surprise some people, because I do not like molly, nor am I her biggest fan - however.

I think it is important to remember, when criticising molly's parenting (as I do frequently) to not forget the pressures she was operating under - trauma, patriarchy and rigid social structure. And people do often treat molly more harshly than other subpar parents - which is why I make sure to criticise arthur as well, as it takes two to tango and whatnot.

The only part I mildly disagree with is 'as good as a human person can do', because I think that molly could have done more by listening to her children. I don't think that molly or arthur are to blame for their family's low socioeconomic status - poverty is a social construct, and whatnot. What I do fault her for her is her misogynistic treatment of other characters, like Fleur and Hermione, and her treatment of Sirius in Grimmauld Place. That was needlessly cruel.

So in short - I'm not naive. I think the key issue is that a lot of people view Molly as a saint, so a lot of people swing heavily back into painting her as the devil - whereas, as a lot of things in HP, the true answer lies somewhere in between. Molly was good intentioned as a parent and was hampered by a lot of things, particularly trauma and money. She loved her children, undeniably. But this provides an explanation for her behaviour - it doesn't excuse it.

I think that other characters should get similar levels of scrutiny - as I do with arthur, but I don't think that necessitates us giving her the excuse of 'oh, it's okay that her children felt conditionally loved because she was traumatised!' [Which I don't think this opinion is suggesting, but something to be careful of]. I understand why molly is the way she is - she grew up in a socially conservative time during a war and lost a lot. But. If I am writing from the perspective of a Weasley child, they are going to have complex feelings about Molly, and Arthur.

So, in short: I agree. I think molly is a deeply flawed mother, shaped largely by her environment, but that does not mean she cannot be held accountable for the hurt she caused. I think the fandom's laser focus on her is at times misogynistic, but it's not particularly unique. Also, not every criticism of a female character is necessarily misogynistic. Molly often takes a lot of flack because she is presented as this paragon of motherhood quite overtly in the books, compared to others - so she's a bigger target than a lot of others.

I like the take, but I personally would veer away from saying she couldn't have done any better. She is a realistic mother: that doesn't mean she couldn't have done better.

[arolesbianism]

Quick concept doodle for my worstie To the horizon

[blazeball]

wild shot in the dark here. do NOT confirm or deny. so......................... did edgeworth kill his dad..............

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Insufficient | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.

Word Count: ~ 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst, sort of unrequited feelings, breakup, mentions of sex + torture and murder, Nesta being an absolute queen

A/N: enjoy some delicious azzy angst😋 lmk what you think I should do for the next part, like should they get back together, or reader finds a new mans while az grovels??

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

It had been a warm, sunny day when you’d first met him.

The bakery had been going steadily as ever in Velaris, your family-owned shop hard at work to make the citizen's pastries and your famous sourdough bread. Generations of the family had owned it beforehand, and you were still helping out, you had been working the front that day.

Azriel had walked in, asking for some sort of treat that his High Lady was craving. His description of it hadn’t been the best, leading to almost thirty minutes of you showing him different sweet treats and pastries until he finally found what he wanted, and ordered a dozen of them.

That had been the beginning of your situationship, where he’d come to the shop asking for various things once every now and then, only to subtly get closer to you and even slightly flirt.

Eventually, he asked you out to dinner, and after a few more, you two began dating, and he admitted that he felt a little spark when he first saw you. Looking back, you wondered if that was the only reason he even pursued you in the first place, not for your personality, or even your looks, but just because of that spark.

The first few weeks had been lovely, him being thoughtful and caring to you in the little acts. Such as the way he made coffee for you just how you liked it in the mornings, how he began to put things lower on shelves so you could reach them, how he would talk quietly when you had migraines, or be patient when you were in a mood. The best example probably being the first time you had your period in front of him.

He hadn’t acted disgusted by it, instead, he’d gently cared for you, helping you through it, buying you chocolate and all the foods and snacks you were craving, getting heating pads, making sure you were alright for the entire insufferable week.

However, after that, the honeymoon period must’ve worn off, because he seemed constantly tense or stressed after that. His face remained like stone, not budging or cracking, even for you. The softening of his eyes that had happened before it was replaced by something strained as if he was waiting impatiently for something.

Even in bed, he wouldn’t look at you, remained quiet as a mouse, the only sign that he was enjoying himself being a large exhale as he buried his face in your neck or turned away. That was another problem, he knew how to fuck, he knew how to do that very well, but he didn’t know how to make love. Any time you tried to teach him, he just didn’t accept it, simply giving an unsatisfactory hum in response and continuing what he was doing.

He’d come home from missions, drenched in sweat and sometimes even blood, and not say anything even when you cleaned him off and led him to bed, giving you a cold shoulder. You fully understood that he had a bloody past and history, but you at least expected him to open up a little bit to you. Without any emotional transparency, it wasn’t really a relationship, was it?

His family was nice, though. You liked them, especially Nesta, since she seemed not to put up with everyone else’s bullshit. She was the only one you opened up to about your issues with Azriel, and how you were thinking of breaking things off or taking a break.

“He’s a hard one, but it sounds like he’s being an ass. If it were me, I wouldn’t put up with that.”

She said while you both sat in the library, neither of you noticing the small shadows lurking near the books. You sighed, nodding slowly.

“I know, it’s just…I feel like he’s waiting for something else, like just me isn’t enough.”

You said with a frown, and Nesta gave a little hum of acknowledgment.

“Just give it a week or two, and if you’re still unhappy, I’d leave.”

She said with a shrug, and not long after the both of you went your separate ways. You followed Nesta’s advice, giving the relationship a week or two, and it remained stressed and tense. However, when you finally managed to get into Azriel’s office during the day, about to break things off, he spoke first.

“Let me guess, your testing weeks weren’t satisfactory?”

He asked in a sharp tone, eyes narrowed on you with a piercing gaze. You took a sharp breath in, glaring at him despite the embarrassment that tried to take over.

“You were spying on me.”

You said, trying to keep your tone even despite how it wavered slightly. He stood then, towering over you from his superior height.

“I don’t like when people talk about me behind my back, let alone my partner.”

He said, the words clipped and full of anger simmering under the surface. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. You’d never been afraid of him, not really, but at this moment you didn’t exactly want to be close to him. His keen eyes noticed, and something like hurt and anger flashed in them.

“Don’t act like I’m some terrible person for having a girl talk because you’ve been acting weird. I can’t believe you spied on me.”

He huffed, taking another step closer, the shadows swirling and writhing, looking more agitated than ever. You took another step back, only to run straight into a wall that was now behind you. He continued stalking closer until your heart was beating faster and faster until he leaned down so you were eye-to-eye.

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for. I’m not gentle or loving, I am a spymaster, I torture and kill people for my work, and have for centuries. I won’t be forced to change just to fit what you think I should be, or what you want in a relationship.”

He hissed, his words now full of anger and frustration. You leaned back, trying to keep away.

“That’s your problem. You don’t know how to separate your work life from your personal life, and you’re taking it out on me. You can be gentle and loving, I’ve seen it before, but I’m not what you want. You’ve been acting like I need to be something more for you when I’m not. I don’t know what you want, but your inability to communicate and be transparent isn’t my problem.”

You said back, tears now welling up as you tried to push him away. He didn’t back up, only moving closer and pushing you into the wall. His temper was building, and you could tell. It was only a matter of time until he would….

“A mate! I wanted a mate!”

Snap.

The silence stretched on and on for what seemed like hours after he said that, yelling it in your face. You’d never heard him raise his voice before. You gaped at the sight of him unwinding and shattering right in front of you as he rambled on.

“It’s not fair, Rhys gets Feyre, Cassian gets Nesta, Lucien gets Elain even if she doesn’t want him, and who do I get? No one.”

He said in an almost panicked tone, rambling on and on. He pushed off the wall, pacing around in his office, hands fidgeting.

“I thought—when I felt that spark when I went in your shop, that it might be you, but you weren’t enough. You aren’t my mate, because it would’ve snapped by now, I would’ve felt it, but I didn’t. You aren’t enough for me, and you never will be.”

He said, finally sighing at the end. He wouldn’t even look at you, eyes unfocused and only looking randomly around the room, anywhere but towards you. You swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that welled up because of his words. You weren’t enough. You never would be.

He looked like he felt a bit bad for half a second before his expression hardened again into that unflinching steel you’d grown to hate. He finally looked at you again, no hint of empathy or guilt now in his gaze for leading you on, or practically torturing you these past months.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally choked words out.

“Oh,” You murmured, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Okay.”

You whispered, managing to push off the wall to walk to the door, opening it and walking down the hall, to the room you two had shared, and you began packing your belongings. Picture frames of your family, your clothes, little trinkets, toiletries, you left no trace of you behind as you packed it in a large duffel bag in the closet.

You walked to the front door of the House, open the door, and walk out, the 10,000 steps down looming in front of you. Azriel didn’t offer to fly you down, and it was only when you turned to look back at him, his face stone cold, that you felt it.

The snap.

A shifting warmth and coldness all at once.

And a mating bond.

His face fell in what looked like pure devastation and realization, hazel eyes wide and lips parted. It might’ve been the most emotion you’d seen him show in weeks. He began to walk out, trying to go after you as you began taking the steps, but a large flap and wave of wind stopped him.

Cassian’s large, hulking form stopped him, shaking his head grimly as he walked towards you, where you were still going down the steps, and he laid a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll fly you.”

He said simply, and you nodded with a sniffle as he picked you up, his wings carried him into the air as he soared up, only to land moments later and drop you off back at the bakery where your family was working. He set you on the ground, pulling you into a warm hug.

“I’m sorry,”

He said, letting you pull away, and for some reason, you believed him. You, Cassian, and Nesta made quite the dynamic trio, and you would probably miss them the most. They were some of your closest friends, and also wonderful drinking buddies. You and Nesta loved cheating in card games and beating Cassian when he was too drunk to notice until he owed either of you a fortune.

“You can always come visit me and Nes, just send a letter or somethin’.”

He murmured to you, wiping the tears from your cheek, and giving you an apologetic grin, before sending you off inside your family’s bakery and flying off.

This time, when you saw the shadow still curled around your wrist like it always had been when you and Azriel were dating, you smacked it off, sticking your hand right into a clear ray of sunshine to chase it off.

You were done being dragged down by shadows and darkness, and for once in your miserable life, you were going to look for the light instead.

[huggingkoalas]

𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.

word count — ‧₊˚ 2.5k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha

authors note — ‧₊˚ phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3

As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.

As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.

It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.

Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.

Had I forgotten to close it?

I swear I closed it before I left the house.

Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.

Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.

Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle. 

She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.

With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.

“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol. 

Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.

“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.

You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband. 

She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.

“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”

She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes. 

Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.

“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.

A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.

“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.

“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.

Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.

“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire. 

“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-

She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”

You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.

“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.

“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.

She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin. 

A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.

“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”

You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.

“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.

Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.

Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace. 

“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.

She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.

“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”

You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.

“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap. 

You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.

“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.

“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance. 

Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you. 

“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.

Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.

“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.

“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.

“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.

You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-

“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.  

“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.

Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.

“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.

Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”

“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”

Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.

[qlossytbh]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you were in an accident and both you and spencer are figuring out how to deal with it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 angst, typical criminal minds content, reader gets beat up, physical violence, descriptions of physical injury’s, lots of freaking out, mild panic attack, angst + comfort, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.5k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this fic is inspired entirely on billie’s eilish’s the 30th. haven’t been posting but i’ve got a lot of almost finished drafts and requests im getting through atm

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Sometimes, Spencer hated his limitless memory.

Because of course, it worked wonders when he had to remember important dates, or endless facts that came remarkably handy in cases. Things no one else even considers remembering. Amazing for remembering favorite things of his favorite people, or remembering things they’d previously mentioned liking.

It was amazing until it found ways to haunt him.

He remembered when Morgan pulled to a stop, glancing up at the red light in front of him. He remembered when Penelope typed away aimlessly in the back of the car, reading out a few connections she found between this particular Unsub and the third and hopefully last victim. Everything was fine.

They almost had the case figured out. Hotch had called in, (exactly twenty-three minutes ago) informing them that that you and Emily had a lead on the whereabouts of the Unsub.

He remembered the tone in Morgan’s voice when he picked up the phone. “What?”

Both him and Penelope had glanced his way absentmindedly, not really thinking much of it.

“Do they know who yet?” He had asked, taking a sudden sharp turn towards the left. The pair watched as Morgan’s face fell, and his grip on the steering wheel had tightened. He remembered the look on Penelope’s face as she quickly glanced over at him, who probably looked equally as worried, if not more. Something hadn’t been sitting right, at all— he remembered from the second the day had started something inside him was telling him that.

“What’s going on?” Penelope's voice was shaky when she set her computer down to the side. Spencer just kept his eyes on Derek, narrowing them slightly at the subtle gulp in his throat and the way he nervously looked over at him. Not Penelope, him.

“Derek—“

He remembered when he told him that you had been hurt and how he was unable to think of anything else.

He looked forward towards the road, avoiding the way his co-worker and friend sat up in his seat, straining against his seatbelt as his chest turned to face him. “I don’t know exactly what happened, Hotch just told me she was ambushed and they’re now waiting on the ambulance.”

“Ambulance?” He could’ve sworn his heart dropped into the very pits of his stomach.

Penelope covered her mouth, tears already boring into them with a soft gasp that came from her mouth. “Is she okay?”

Derek’s mouth twisted into a straight line as he opened his mouth to speak and Spencer swore he had never felt as much panic course through him.

He didn’t usually freak out, but he swore his head just stopped working right there and then. All he was able to think about was getting to you. “They don’t know—“

“Drive.” Spencer told Derek. With a firm nod and no room for complaint, he stepped on the gas pedal, signaling on the sirens as he swerved through the streets.

Six minutes and thirty five point two seconds.

That's how long it took for them to get to the scene, where two ambulances and cop cars seemed displayed around the small suburban home. He felt time move as if it were in slow motion.

The car hadn’t even come to a stop and Spencer was already stumbling throughout the door, pushing his shaky legs towards the already chaotic scene.

Unbearable noises surrounded him— people clattering and shouting about, orders being thrown around aimlessly, sirens and bypassers stopping to gasp and gaunt at the scene.

Two officers were down on the floor, covered by a simple thin white cloth and he felt the nausea settle in. Just the thought of one of them being you made his knees grow weak and the bile quickly hike its way up his throat.

Before he could rush around in attempts to find you, his eyes landed on Hotch, hunched over a moving stretcher surrounded by about three, maybe even more, medics.

It all seemed visceral. An automatic response. Soon enough his legs were pushing him towards the stretcher that made its way towards the ambulance. “Hotch—“

He turned around, and allowed just enough space to reveal your absolutely destroyed form. Your eyes kept fluttering open and close, seemingly bothered by all the noise and light. Your breathing sounded strangled, covered by the oxygen mask you had on but the sound alone was something Spencer was sure would haunt him until the day he died.

He still remembered.

Spencer felt like he had been punched in the stomach. All he could do was push one of the medics aside and hunch over you as you fought against the universe itself to regain consciousness.

“Hey,” He cooed, voice tightening and nearly breaking in a cry. He cleared his throat and blinked through his tears, smiling down at you.

You couldn’t say a single word, but you mustered enough strength to lift your pinky, grazing it against his knuckles. Your face showed a much different reaction though, furrowing your brows in what seemed to be excruciating pain.

“She’s mostly unresponsive,” The medics informed. Spencer followed them alongside Hotch, until they got to the ambulance, clicking the stretcher upwards.

“Hey, listen to me,” He whispered, ducking down so he was closer to you. “I love you, okay?”

Your small fist grabbed the fabric of his shirt, not wanting him to leave your side, but it was hurting you too much to hold on. Your fist feebly fell and the medics somehow pushed him off and you were taken into the ambulance and he really didn’t know if that was the last time he’d see you.

He watched the doors slam shut, frozen completely in his place. He remembered watching the ambulance drive away and having to stop his legs from running after it. He remembered Hotch trying to grab his attention from the disappearing ambulance.

He remembered thinking non-stop but for the first time ever, wanting to stop it and not being able to.

Something so alarming started to awaken within him and he wasn’t really sure what to do with himself.

He spent thirteen hours and sixteen minutes in the hospital that night and next morning. Hotch and the others came by in turns to keep him company in the cold empty waiting room, but he didn’t budge.

The second to stay the most was Emily, given how she was also attacked at the scene but much less severely. She ended up with a few bruises and scratches— she silently wished it had been more.

Maybe then the damage on you would’ve been less.

He remembered sitting with Morgan and the others when the doctors came in, informing him that you had gone into hypovolemic shock and they needed to perform an emergency surgery to stop the internal bleeding that was causing your vitals to plummet.

Spencer even remembered, word by word and syllable by syllable that there was a high chance that you may not even wake up from the surgery due to how much trauma your body had received.

Three broken ribs, dozens, maybe hundreds, lacerations scattered across your arms and stomach, a ruptured spleen and a concussion. That wasn’t even including all the bits of physiological trauma you now had to attack once— and if— you woke up.

Spencer seriously felt his resolve to remain calm crumple the second the medics mentioned that the Unsub used a metal pole to beat you nearly to death.

He had asked for every detail and he remembered each one and how utterly hopeless they all made him feel. He cried, because he simply didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know how to fix it, or how to help— he wasn’t even sure he could.

Because what if he had been there instead of Emily? What if he was able to stop it? What if more backup was sent in, what if when you had told him you felt off this morning when going into work he’d tell you to stay put and rest it off? What would’ve happened then?

What if he would’ve gone with Emily instead of you, what if you were actually lifeless when they had found you? What if you didn’t wake up? What if this meant he’d never get to hold you for a last time, and had to stick with the memory of seeing you bloody and bruised. What if you never actually—

“Reid,” Spencer looked up from his palms, which holstered themselves on his knees by his elbows. Emily smiled at him meekly. “She’s awake,”

Spencer looked around, blinking heavily and realizing he was in the same cold hospital waiting room he’s been in for the past day and a half.

He opened his mouth to speak, but realized it was incredibly dry. Too dry. He cleared out his throat with a firm cough and nodded, standing up feebly.

They walked down the quiet hallway, something so heavy hanging in the air. Just the patterning of his shoes and Emily’s heels bouncing off the walls along with the shuffling of their clothes. Spencer swore he wouldn’t be okay until he saw you but even then he didn’t think he’d be okay. How was any of this going to be okay?

Emily led him to a door and when they pushed it open, you were staring at the wall, seemingly in some kind of deep whirlwind of thoughts. A small knock offered by Emily caught your attention. You turned your head to the side, probably expecting another endless round of nurses. But to your surprise, there stood the one person you’d been wanting to see after this whole ordeal.

A broad yet tired smile made its way onto your face while laying back into the pillows. Spencer took you in, letting out a shaky breath. Your hair was disheveled, and your eyes looked tired. Soft and welcoming but hiding something so much deeper underneath that he’d have to be an idiot to not notice it.

There was a stitch on your forehead and the lash line of one of your eyes protruded a growing dark purple bruise. There were machines and cables and needles stuck beside and into you. And the more Spencer noticed, the more he wished he hadn’t.

“Hey,” Your voice was raspier than usual, small and steady, Spencer noticed this.

But then you smiled just like you used to before the accident and he couldn’t have found you any more beautiful.

“Hey,” He finally answered, walking up to the side of your bed. “How— How are you feeling?”

“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Emily said, slipping past the door and leaving the two of you to your own accord.

“I’m okay,” You whispered, sounding so small and frail it nearly broke any ounce of self control he was mustering to avoid breaking into tears. “The pain meds are helping a bit,”

He gave you a silent understanding nod. His hand held onto the railing of your bed, not entirely knowing what to say or how to act. You watched him intently, noticing how he couldn’t really bring himself to look at you.

“Do you remember anything?” You turned to stare at the wall, trying to recall anything about the attack, but you unfortunately— some would argue fortunately— didn’t.

You shifted in your bed, scrunching your face in pain in the process, which Spencer noticed. Again. Of course he did.

Spencer looked down at you, dangerously entering territory where the back of his eyes burned, and his own mind bit at him, and he just didn’t know what to do with all the huge feelings that swarmed around inside him.

“Not really,” You muttered, scrunching your nose with a small huff. Spencer reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and letting his hand cup the side of your cheek.

“You really scared me,” You leaned into the touch of his palm.

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head before he even spoke, blinking rapidly to prevent any tears from falling.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I almost died,”

Okay, they were starting there. Great.

You had said it in barely above a whisper, staring at your lap and preventing Spencer from getting a look in your eyes. Your lips tugged into a frown. And Spencer said your name, trying to catch your attention.

Suddenly it all hit you. The gravity of it all. It came in stronger than a tidal wave, than a slap you didn’t even see coming. You felt the burning in your ribs, the rips and tears in your skin, the slight swell of your eye, the rattling of your own skull.

Spencer pulled out a chair and sat on it to level himself to your height. He reached out a hand and laced his fingers with yours.

It felt hard to breathe.

More silence.

“You okay?” You sucked in a sharp breath that came out as a little squeak, and suddenly you wanted to cry. Because you were tired of feeling so broken and feeling how every inch of your body hurt.

You shook your head and as soon as you did, a broken sob left your mouth. Your hands flew up quickly, attempting to hide the broken fragments of your gaze. Spencer heard every shard of the glass his heart had been made of around you shatter. He sat up, attempting to hold you from the side in any way he could, letting you cry out all the trauma you received in the past two days.

And you did cry it out, and your ribs burned, your head was pounding and you felt every ache and bruise in your body worsen. Seeing you like this hurt him more than any pain that had ever been inflicted on him.

Spencer pulled away from you once you had calmed down enough and brought one hand to the side of your face, leisurely dragging his thumb against your cheek bone and anywhere any stray tears fell.

“Dang it,” You sniffled, bringing the back of your palm up and rubbing your nose. “This is not how I wanted you to see me after my mini coma,”

Spencer knew you couldn’t keep serious for more than fifteen minutes at a time even if your life depended on it. He’d let you stall the situation this time however. He knows the two of you needed it.

“You look so pretty,” You smiled at his words, looking at him with so much gratitude and leaning into his palm, trying to find refuge in it.

“I bet I do,” You narrowed your eyes at him and he leaned forward pressing a kiss to your lips. You grabbed the wrist of the hand that held your face while he kissed you and gave it a small squeeze, hopefully letting him know how much you cared and appreciated him.

He pulled away, sitting back into the chair but intertwining his fingers with yours, reminding himself to always drag his fingers comfortingly across your knuckles and allow you to know he wasn’t ever leaving your side again.

“They had to change my IV needle,” You decided to stall for a bit. “The vein on my right arm wasn’t doing the job.”

“Really?” He knew that wasn’t entirely possible and that the doctors probably did an ass job at inserting it there in the first place, but he let you wonder on. “How’d that feel?”

“Im afraid of needles, but!-“ You shuffled a little bit around on your pillow for more comfort, huffing proudly. “I squeezed my eyes and tried thinking back on that book that talks about marxist criticism you read to me last week,”

He smiled warmly, bringing your hand over to him and kissing your wrist. “My brave girl,”

You let out a laugh, and he knew then he’d sleep a little better that night. He always did when you were by him.

“Hey Spence,”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay?” You asked earnestly.

Spencer squeezed your hand. “Your pain meds are hitting you stronger than you thought if you think for a second that i’m leaving your side,”

You smiled. “I’m not going anywhere angel, I promise.”

The two of you basked in each other's silence. You closed your eyes and tried to alleviate the burning in your lungs as your breath shaked from the crying. Spencer just watched you, appreciating a while longer the small freckles and marks across your face.

“Spence,” He hummed, “I’m scared.”

He sighed heavily. Suddenly realizing that this wasn’t something easy to come. And he was too, because he almost lost the love of his life and he didn’t know what that information would do to him, much less to you.

For the first time, Spencer was out of smart answers and reasons why this would all be okay. It was hard for him to think he’d never feel this scared of loosing you again, and that idea haunted him.

“So am I,”

[buttdumplin]

finishing up my surgery prep and can't help but think the boys, gorgeous fools that they are, build in an "orgasm schedule" into the weeks of prep because they know the 6-8 weeks of no-touch recovery is gonna leave you all starving, so they better get as many as they can in

A/N: Inspired by, and thus for, @mikichko

cw: poly 141, gn!reader, established relationship, oral (reader receiving), p in v sex, ass play, reader's genitals referred to as "clit" "pussy" "cunt"

simon's got the mornings, when you're most pliable, body still warm from sleep, drifting in and out of focus. he'll pull your back to his chest and wind his arms around to pluck and pinch at your nipples until you're squirming in his arms and whining as you try to move his hands lower. such a pretty pet, the rumbling of his voice deeper from sleep, always so good for us, deserve a little treat, hm? big hands of his sneaking under your shirt to roll your nipples between his finger and shoving into your undies, cupping your pussy innocently as you try to grind against him, only lightly tracing your pussy lips with the tip of his middle finger, pressing his straining cock against your ass, hips rolling just enough to slide his cock between your cheeks for some friction. only gives in and sinking a finger into you when your breathy whimpering sounds threaten to wake the others. brings his mouth to your ear to softly coo at you as his fingers move, pussy so wet you can take a second finger and then a third in no time, doing so well, dove, take what you need, moving his palm to grind against your clit. you cum so hard you practically lock his fingers into place, rendering you both immobile as licks the sweat off your neck and you finally open your eyes, but he won't complain. with that sweet dazed smile on your face? there's nowhere else he'd rather be. plus, if he waits for you to get up first, he can steal those soaked panties for later

kyle gets all of midday, up until dinner, and he milks every minute for all its worth. he'll lure you into the kitchen only to bend you over the counter so he can rip your bottoms down so he can dive face first into your pussy, his hands spreading your cheeks so he can coat his face in your juices, absolutely fucking divine, love spoken against your skin, tongue moving through your folds and only stopping to harshly suck at your clit, his stubble brushing lightly over your lips in a way that has you clenching down around his tongue. he'll find you in the living room and gently ease you onto the big ottoman in the center of the room, parting your legs wide, making a display out of you for the rest of the boys so fucking gorgeous and all ours too, fucking you with his fingers and sucking on your clit until you're squirting and drenching his shirt, the boys' groans growing as he impales you on his thick cock, your own cries breathless from the force of his thrusts, leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock that has him delirious. in a spark of impulse, you push him off, scrambling to your hands and knees, chanting pleasepleaseplease as you arch your back and present to him, lovely cunt glistening, men swearing all around you, and kyle knows what you want, what you need, reaching for the packet of lube in the pocket of his discarded jeans i've got you love, i got you. takes his time easing you back onto his cock, holding your hip with one hand to keep you from rocking back against him, fingers digging into the fat, exactly where they belong, his other hand coating your asshole with the lube, thumb gently working in, matching the slow rhythm of his thrusts, until his hips are flush to your ass and you've taken his entire thumb. you keen from the stimulation and attention, not lasting very long after that, the sound and feel of him spitting on your asshole and fucking it into you with his thumb, his harsh thrusts making you squirt again, the sight so stunning he can't help cumming deep inside you

the hours leading up to dinner are johnny's, he keeps you busy while the food is getting cooked, making a full meal out of you in the meantime. has you climbing into bed and sitting on his face, arms locked around your thighs so he can stay drowning in your juices, groaning and bucking his hips helplessly the moment he gets his mouth on you fuck, you're so perfect, unable to keep up the gentle kisses he starts with and opening his mouth to receive as much of you as he can, biting softly to make you gasp and soothing the spot with the warmth of his tongue. loves eating kyle's cum from you, even pushing a hand against your belly to ease out what he can't reach give it to me, darling, moaning long and low at the taste of you two. uses the bump of his nose to grind against your clit, his hands forcing you to rock back and forth against him and ride him for what he's worth, smearing your cunt all over his mouth and chin, tilting you just enough to get his tongue in your ass, enjoying how your body jerks when he hums against you. waits until he feels your thighs trembling around him to wrap his mouth around your clit, tongue flicking and chin crushed against your pussy lips, sharp eyes open to watch as you fall apart above him. won't let you move until he's licked you clean

bedtime belongs to price. he gets you when you're worn out from the day, body tired and malleable under him, soft sounds slipping from your lips as he thrusts steady and slow into your cunt, his arms caging you in, creating a world of just you two. buries his face into your neck to cover you in kisses, his beard leaving your skin tender to the touch and much more receptive to the feeling of his mouth on you, teeth nipping raised little marks along the way so perfect, sweetheart, always treating us so well. crushes you with his body, easing his weight onto you to make you feel just what you're welcoming into your arms, wanting to pressed together at every point of contact possible, slow hard thrusts rocking you both as he bullies his fact cock into your cunt. his chest hair brushes against your nipples, making your nails dig into those wide shoulders, flesh giving way as he growls with approval that's right, mark your territory, take what's yours, his hips jerking harder into you. leans back just enough to get your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard and biting, his hand making its way down your body to pinch your clit between two fingers and rub tight circles with his thumb, chuckling at the way your body arches into his touch, voice rough when he lifts his head best give me what's mine. worried for a minute that you might not be able to after such a full day, you freeze for a moment, but the burning warmth spreading through you from this slow rich orgasm soothes you, melting you back into his arms, cunt pulsing heavy around him, milking him through his last stuttering thrusts, his moans filling your ears

[gojhoes]

gojo x fem!reader, established relationship, soft serve vanilla morning sex, slight dom gojo, p-in-v backshots, unprotected sex, characters in their late 20s, yummy dick print, big hands big dick, im feral nsfw, mdni

satoru is always so sensitive in the morning. even the slightest stimulation makes his already hard dick twitch with a wave of pleasure.

he glances over at your sleeping frame, eyes trailing along the shape of your waist and hips through those tiny lounge shorts. there’s just something about the soft fabric that always makes him want to nudge his cock into your ass, grinding softly just to take the edge off.

and so he does. he shifts under the covers, sliding closer to you to rid of any space that might keep you away from him. his arm snakes around your middle, putting just enough pressure to firmly press his hips into yours.

you stir, humming softly and making those cute little sleepy sounds. it’s so amusing because you look so innocent, yet satoru knows very well that you’re just as weak to desire as he is. from the way you gently wiggle your hips to “get more comfortable” to the warmth of your skin against his bare chest, it’s all but obvious.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, placing soft, slow kisses over your shoulder. you let out a sigh, bringing your hand to the back of his head to gently card through soft white locks. you’re both too sleepy to speak, preferring to let your tired bodies respond to one another unconsciously.

he tilts his head so that he can bring his lips just below your jawline, sucking gently on the delicate skin over your pulse point. your grip tightens on his scalp– a signal that you want more. he catches the skin between his teeth as he sucks harder, soothing to site with a swipe of his tongue. he untangles the arm holding you close, instead slipping his hand under your tank top to hold your warm breast.

satoru doesn’t even have to say anything to get you to roll over onto your knees and bury your face into the pillow. he rises up onto his own, placing his hands on either of your hips and squeezing. his cock is aching, yearning so desperately to stretch out your warm pussy that a wet patch starts to form on his boxers.

while he rids himself of the fabric, freeing his cock from its confines. the air cools the hot, sensitive skin, his wet slit shining in the early morning light. while satoru slides your shorts down, using two fingers to spread you open and run them along your holes, you reach over to retrieve your vibrator from the side table. he’s barely got himself lined up with your cunt, which is dripping from just the littlest bit of his teasing, before you click the button twice.

both of you let out strained moans, sighing heavily when he finally slides into you, feeding inch by inch until his length is sucked all the way in. the soft buzzing reverberates through your pussy, only helping to make him twitch violently when each wave of pleasure makes your cunt flutter rhythmically around his dick. when it’s like this, it never takes long for either of you to cum. it’s not that satoru ever minds slowing down to help you feel good– but it is so much better when he doesn’t have to.

you’re already so close when he’s just started to fuck you proper, pulling his hips away only to slam back in with force that has your thighs trembling. you’re being so selfish with that vibrator of yours, trying to create your own rhythm on his cock and use him. satoru’s hands fly to your hips to hold you still, squeezing the bones tight as if to warn you to obey his lead. he started this, you gave in, and you’ll finish because of him.

satoru positions his hips as his pace reaches a steady speed, knowing this angle always pushes his tip into your sweet spot. it’s a combination of thrusts and pulling you into him by the waist, a perfect combination.

“it doesn’t have to be that hard,” you told him. “just consistent.”

and satoru smiled at that– you were so shameless even with blushing cheeks. “that’ll make you cum, hm?”

“mmm, i’m close,” you say, voice quiet and thick with drowsiness. the vibrator gets louder and so does your breathing, small moans beginning to fill the room. “–do just like that.”

you’re so wet– satoru looks down to see a white ring painted around the base of his shaft that sends a pang of satisfaction through the haze of his pleasure. he silently wishes he’d eaten you out first… such a waste of pretty slick; the thought makes his mouth water, and he vows not to deprive himself the next time.

it’s too much; the soft vibrations, your strained moans which only grow in volume and desperation, the sensitivity he’s been fighting to resist since the moment he woke up. your pussy quivers and flutters around him as you finally come undone, whimpering while he pounds into you through your orgasm.

“fuck, oh fuck-” his balls are so tight, he’s been leaking into you this whole time, it’s too much, you’re so wet and tight. you push your hips back into him, hard and fast, helping him keep pace until finally, finally, a groan escapes his lips and his eyes squeeze shut, and he empties every drop of cum inside your pussy, his cock twitching rhythmically.

the sound of matching breaths fills the room, smelling of cum and your body lotion as satoru rests his head on your back. it’s always so much better in the morning.

[babygirlhouse]

house md 2024 headcanons 🫡

hi loves!! jumping on this trend :^) i don't think any of these make sense but they made me laugh soooo here u go

House has a very bad pain day and (when pushed) says that he strained the muscle while riding his bike. Obviously nobody believes him, so the ducklings + Wilson spend the day trying to figure out what he did and end up finding security footage of him attempting to hit the griddy in the morgue 

Kutner has a very generic inspirational quotes tumblr blog (he’s so proud of it) and House finds it and just starts dropping quotes from it in DDXs to mess with him & then acting all innocent 

Thirteen has a secret thirst trap tiktok acc that doesn’t explicitly show her face but has her lab coat & maybe stethoscope. When Chase suggests that it’s her she doesn’t confirm or deny it and just keeps winking. Cameron definitely follows the account after this. Thirteen pretends not to realise.

Wilson takes a uquiz to find out what sort of cheese he is and is devastated when it says he’s cheddar. He then has an identity crisis because he thinks he’s too bland and tries to reinvent his aesthetic, leading to one infected eyebrow piercing and a tramp stamp that’s never mentioned again. Potential there for a sappy scene where House tells him he's anything but bland.

Cuddy starts a momblog style podcast. House sends anonymous hate. Taub guest stars. 

I think Taub would get deeply into ASMR. Like it’d start with him finding and playing a video of ASMR triggers for his daughters, then he tries it himself to see if that calms them down even more, etc etc. He starts a youtube channel and it blows up. He gets recognised by patients at the hospital. It goes to his head just a little. He unironically uses the term 'ASMRtist'

A cosplayer has a mysterious illness and the team has to go to a convention to test for environmental factors. Chase is apprehensive but House forces him to go. He’s quickly recognised at the convention and it turns out that he has a cosplay instagram account and they get stopped every 10 mins to take pictures. No one lets him live it down 

Thirteen and Cameron kiss & fall in love & babysit Taub's kids. House makes relentless jokes but is quietly very fond of them and their relationship. Pls i need this

Foreman has a twitter/X account where he posts a combination of work out tips/inspirational quotes (not as sweet as Kutner's blog, more grindset vibes yknow) but he gets mixed up in a pyramid scheme for protein powders and gets cancelled. Also potential for a sappy scene here where Foreman says he admires Kutner for not letting House's teasing about his blog get to him. They're besties now and make each other better.

Cuddy forces all of them to go on a wellness retreat. House and Wilson make a bet to see who can go the longest without speaking. It's not even a silent retreat, they're just like that. Also someone convinces Chase that the utility shed on the retreat is haunted.

The wellness retreat no speaking bet also def has potential for gay chicken. Like Wilson kisses House to see if that will get him to lose the bet. By the next morning neither of them know or care who lost the bet, they leave their room looking Extremely disheveled and return to the hospital very much together. Cuddy is not at all surprised. She planned this. Each of the ducklings hand her $100.

PPTH minecraft server. yeah

[moonxytcn]

Shadows of Dragonstone

| Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem!reader

summary – You have been Rhaenyra's servant since you were a child and you will always be there for her, no matter what

tags & warnings – rhaenyra x fem!servant!reader, angst, a little dark themes?, fluffy if you squint your eyes.

a/n – I'm just back in my era of love for her. My queen! 🤭

| English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

| Masterlist —✽— Pinned post

 ㅤㅤ✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

–––

The halls of Dragonstone are cold and silent, a far cry from the warmth and bustling life of King's Landing. Here, the stone walls seem to echo the turmoil in your heart, reflecting the stark isolation that Rhaenyra must feel. She has always been a flame in the darkness, a beacon of strength and defiance, but now, that flame flickers dangerously low.

You have been her personal servant since childhood, a constant presence by her side. The bond you share goes beyond duty; it is a secret love forged in the crucible of court intrigues and whispered promises. It began on that fateful night when Daemon took her to the house of pleasure, a night that changed everything between you. Now, with Harwin Strong's departure to Harrenhal, Rhaenyra's heart aches with a new kind of pain, one that you feel deeply within your own soul.

The morning is bleak as you approach her chambers, carrying a tray of breakfast. You hesitate at the door, listening for any sound from within. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the distant roar of the sea. Taking a deep breath, you knock gently before entering.

Rhaenyra sits by the window, her silhouette framed against the grey sky. Her eyes are distant, lost in thoughts you can only guess at. The fire in the hearth struggles to warm the room, much like your presence struggles to warm her heart these days.

"Good morning, Princess." You say softly, setting the tray on a small table. "I brought you breakfast."

She turns her gaze to you, and for a moment, the mask of the future queen slips, revealing the vulnerable woman beneath. "Thank you." She murmurs, but makes no move to eat.

You approach her cautiously, your heart aching at the sight of her so desolate. "Rhaenyra." You whisper, daring to reach out and touch her hand. "Please, you must take care of yourself."

She looks at you, and the pain in her eyes is almost unbearable. "I am tired." She admits, her voice barely audible. "So very tired of losing those I care about."

You kneel beside her, your fingers entwining with hers. "You are not alone." You say, your voice fierce with the depth of your feelings. "I am here. I will always be here."

Her grip tightens on your hand, and for a moment, it seems as if she might break down. But Rhaenyra Targaryen is nothing if not resilient. She takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders, the mask slipping back into place. "We must be strong," she says, though you can hear the strain in her voice. "For the realm."

You nod, understanding the weight of her words. "For the realm." You echo, though in your heart, it is for her that you would do anything.

The days pass in a blur of duties and stolen moments. You do your best to be a comfort to her, to remind her of the warmth and love that still exists in the world, even in the shadow of Dragonstone. It is a delicate balance, keeping your relationship hidden from prying eyes while giving her the solace she so desperately needs.

One night, as you help her prepare for bed, she turns to you with a look of determination. "I need to feel alive again." She says, her voice trembling with emotion. "Will you help me?"

You nod, your heart pounding. "Always." You whisper.

She leads you to the bed, her hands shaking slightly as she begins to undress. You follow her lead, your own nerves taut with anticipation and fear. This is different from the secret moments you've shared before. There is a desperation in her touch, a need to forget the pain if only for a little while.

As you lie together in the dim light of the chamber, you hold her close, your bodies entwined. Her tears dampen your skin, and you kiss them away, each touch a silent promise of love and loyalty. In the darkness, the walls of Dragonstone seem to fade, leaving just the two of you in a world of your own making.

Afterward, you lie together, her head resting on your chest. The storm outside rages on, but here, in this moment, there is a fragile peace. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice breaking. "For being here. For loving me."

You kiss the top of her head, your own tears mingling with hers. "Always." You repeat, the word a vow.

But peace in Dragonstone is fleeting. The next day brings more bad news, more reasons for Rhaenyra to steel herself against the world. You stand by her side, offering what comfort you can, but the shadows are ever present, threatening to consume you both.

One evening, as you sit together in front of the hearth, she takes your hand in hers. "I fear I will lose you too." She admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

You squeeze her hand, your heart aching with the weight of her fears. "I am not going anywhere." You promise. "No matter what happens, I will be by your side."

She looks at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and sorrow. "Promise me." She says, her voice trembling. "Promise me that you will stay."

"I promise." You say, the words a binding oath. "I will never leave you."

The days grow shorter, and the nights colder, as the weight of the realm's troubles presses down on you both. But through it all, you hold onto each other, finding strength in the love that binds you.

One night, as the storm outside rages, you wake to find Rhaenyra standing by the window, her silhouette a dark shadow against the flickering light of the fire. You rise and go to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She leans into you, her body trembling with unspoken fears.

"We will get through this." You whisper, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Together."

She turns in your arms, her eyes searching yours. "I do not know what I would do without you." She admits, her voice breaking.

"You will never have to find out." You say, your voice firm with conviction. "I am yours, Rhaenyra. Now and always."

She kisses you then, a desperate, searching kiss that speaks of all the things words cannot express. You hold her close, pouring all your love and devotion into that kiss, hoping to banish the darkness that surrounds you both.

As the storm rages on, you make love again, finding solace in each other's arms. In the heat of your passion, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by love and necessity.

In the aftermath, as you lie together, spent and sated, she turns to you, her eyes soft with affection. "Thank you." She whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Always." You say, the word a promise and a vow.

The storms of Dragonstone may rage on, and the shadows may threaten to consume you, but in each other, you find the strength to carry on. Together, you face the darkness, knowing that your love is a light that will never be extinguished.

And in the end, that is enough.

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

[arolesbianism]

Finally starting to get some proper fairy worldbuilding brainstormed for the random card au, huge win for 3 specific characters and them only

[loveemagicpeace]

Saturn lord of karma

Saturn is considered the most powerful planet in astrology and also the planet that is the most difficult to know. For many years, they believed that Saturn was bad, but the negative turned out to be one of the better planets. All other planets lose energy, which is especially true for the planet Mars.

Saturn in Taurus- excessive exaggerations towards materialism. The cause is a strong conscious or unconscious fear of losing property, visits or possessions. People with this position feel that they are not important without money. They may have a fear of poverty. Because by having money, they can enjoy things and have the feeling that they cannot do without material things. They see life as real, serious, uncompromising. They are hardworking and always save money. They are persistent, motivated and want to be successful.

Saturn in Virgo- these people are hard-working, diligent, focused on everyday activities. They work a lot on their health and body. Many times, however, they can be subjected to excessive strain due to their health. These people are perfectionists, precise, thoughtful and very good at what they do. They are very good analysts. Accepting responsibility can be hindered by a lack of faith in one's own abilities, suspicion and fear that they will not satisfy society.

Saturn in Capricorn- here Capricorn is at home and in a comfortable position. He knows how to organize perfectly, he is reliable, solid, responsible. He can be a great leader. An individual with this position wants to be an example to other people, because he wants to be socially and socially important, because he has a desire for power and control. He has very high life goals, he wants to be a successful and respected member of the social community. He has important insights early in his life, but he learns the most from his own experiences.

Saturn in Gemini-the ambitions of these people are related to learning, studying, teaching, acquiring specific knowledge. These people are interested in many things and can also be people who start something but don't finish it because they can't decide what it is that really attracts them. However, the individual may have a tendency to control and overthink each person. It can also be a source of strict upbringing (that he must not say what he thinks). A career can be related to journalism, public speaking, literature.

Saturn in Libra- the area of relationships has the greatest influence on the development of these people. A source of acquaintance, diplomacy, understanding, love and business relationships. But this is the most difficult and the biggest challenge for them. People want to highlight justice, seriousness, affection, kindness, patience. They may feel a great responsibility towards partner relationships. Therefore, they always approach them very seriously. However, they may be hindered by the fear of losing their partner relationship. Many times they have high criteria when it comes to love. The profession of the field is usually related to fashion, science, art, politics.

Saturn in Aquarius- symbolizes solidity, thoughtfulness, progress of ideas, innovativeness. These people can achieve a lot by inventing something. But there are usually people who don't like to follow the rules and do exactly the opposite of what they should. It can cause melancholy, dissatisfaction. Lanka limit freedom of thought. Many times these people want to do things their way. He perceives the world as a place where every person should have the same opportunities for development and social establishment, or professional success. This position is characterized by a scientific-systematic thinking approach, which through experiences achieves a high level of internal crystallization and ingenious mutual logical connection. Such a situation leads to loneliness and problems in partnerships and relationships, because the life principles of these people are very unusual, but at the same time advanced and hard to understand by contemporaries. It also indicates extraordinary creative restlessness, nervousness, unpredictability and a tendency to make radical changes. Due to strict upbringing and limitations in childhood, they later try to make up for it with an exaggerated tendency towards freedom, independence and detachment.

Saturn in 2nd house-This position indicates great insecurity, which is associated with a lack of self-confidence and self-worth. The very slow development of the value and value system is characteristic. There is a probability that the individual's upbringing in his youth was associated with poverty, deprivation, misery or even hunger. So now you are working on getting all the needs. A person can identify himself with money, material goods, or with his wealth, this becomes his only way of asserting himself in the social environment. When a person realizes that money is not everything and begins to change his lifestyle, he sees things differently.

Saturn in 3rd house-The third house tells something about the way of thinking, intellect, basic education, ability to communicate, about gathering information, movement over short distances, means of transport, brothers and sisters and about conditions in the immediate environment. Saturn in the 3rd house creates order, discipline, strictness, responsibility and orientation towards a specific type of self and information. Checks if the information is correct. If a child is exposed to too strict control of information, he may have problems with expression and vocabulary. He can be the target of criticism and constant monitoring of what and how he speaks, thereby exerting psychological pressure on the child. Later in life, the individual has difficulty developing an authentic exchange of information, speaks quietly or reservedly, or is ashamed of what he said. Usually, individuals with this position are very intelligent, have good concentration and great depth of thought. A child with this Saturn position is very diligent and a good student in elementary school. You can be stubborn and value the knowledge that was gained based on experience and practical observations the most. It may happen that one of the brothers or sisters "plays the role of Saturn". This means that, as an older child, he puts himself in the role of a guardian or an authority that must be listened to and obeyed. You are very careful when you drive vehicles, so there is not a high probability of accidents and accidents, unless Saturn is strongly afflicted.

Saturn in 6th house-Daily habits and tasks (for example, hygiene, cleaning, house order, principles of behavior, etc.) are very precisely determined, as the individual demands absolute order and compliance with the established rules. They may be inclined to find themselves in a very demanding job, where there are high standards and requirements that must be met unconditionally. Service is sometimes such a burden with this position of Saturn, that the individual can bear it with difficulty. Work conditions can be made more difficult by a colleague, which has an extremely burdensome effect on the individual, reduces his work morale and tries to devalue the individual's work and efforts. The pressures at the workplace are often so heavy that a person is no longer able to perform their work correctly and with high quality. Prav sesta house points to a close psychosomatic connection between work processes and health, which are also cyclical in their essence. In order to maintain health, it is necessary to be allowed to rest, to eat properly and healthily, to be physically active and to be allowed to sleep. A person's health is most burdened when the individual is burdened day in and day out with the problems and disappointments he experiences in life, and at the same time he sleeps poorly, does not feel well, eats improperly and does not exercise enough.

Saturn in 7th house-The position of Saturn here represents lasting love and marriage relationships, what he expects from personal and business partnerships, how he relates to business clients and other people, and to open opponents and lower courts. This position of Saturn is otherwise demanding, as it shows that relationships are the theme of life that will berequired the most effort, effort, patience, tolerance and perseverance. Balancing the relationship with such a partner is a difficult task, because she strictly insists on her views and principles, which means that it is difficult to expect any changes. Says even to such a choice of a partner who will first test you, isolate you, then reject you and ultimately disappoint you. The question arises how to mitigate or even prevent this. The answer lies within search, contemplation, tolerance, humor and in-depth communication between partners. An individual may choose a partner much older than himself because he is experienced, stable, reliable and financially secure, but he is dissatisfied with him because of inflexibility, old-fashionedness and ageism and other limitations bring a lot of problems into the relationship. You can also be afraid of living alone, but at the same time you are afraid of problems in a partnership.

Saturn in 10th house-The tenth house tells something about career choice, business success and professional reputation, relationship with the public and relationship with parents. The top of the tenth house (MC) indicates concretely expected achievements in life and the realization of the individual's public ambitions. Saturn is extremely well placed in the tenth house, which is why its position is also solid and strong. The individual is fully ready to take responsibility for social achievements, show himself as an honorable person, fulfill his ambitions and become a real authority. Success is the ultimate goal, no matter how difficult the path to it is. Relationship with parents and upbringing are very important in this position, because the more visible of the parents requires discipline, order, rigor and systematicity. It is interesting that the ambitions we feel later in life are proportional to the pressure on the child's identity in the early life period.

Saturn in 11th house-this house tells something about relationships with friends, about group activities, hopes, wishes and expectations in life, about large organizations and events over which the individual has no influence. It is typical for Saturn here that the individual shows his superiority and isolation within the group and behaves like a "lone wolf". He has problems if he wants to establish occasional friendly contacts, because he acts strict, aloof and defensive. People who have been presented to him as "acceptable", i.e. those whom he meets through family, business, religion or interests, rarely receive him warmly, so he feels unaccepted in this social structure. An individual with Saturn in the eleventh house is painfully aware that he is not welcome anywhere, but at the same time he is overwhelmed by a deep feeling of loneliness and detachment.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🌙🍍🎸

[haikyu-mp4]

Part of the family

word count; 465 – gn!reader

You and Tsukishima have been together for a long time, but he’s not enough of a family guy that you’ve properly gotten to know his brother yet. At some point in the relationship, he told you about the history of his strained relationship with his brother, so you respected whatever pace he wanted.

That’s why you were so pleasantly surprised when Kei suggested inviting Akiteru and his fiancé over to your place for an evening of Monopoly and wine.

What Kei didn’t predict, was that you and Akiteru would be so competitive that you were on your feet pointing at each other and yelling over the table after you landed on a lot that Akiteru bought but forgot to grab the card for.

Kei had never been more in love with you, but as he saw that Akiteru’s fiancé tried to get him to sit down, he decided to help even though he didn’t mind you making a scene. He rested his hand on the small of your back and stroked up to your shoulder before carefully guiding you back to your seat. You followed his lead, still glaring at his brother.

“Kei,” you said with a threatening undertone that he didn’t take too seriously. “Tell your brother that I’m right. I should be allowed to buy the lot.”

Tsukishima sighed, side-eyeing his brother who looked at him expectantly. It wasn’t like Tsukki to lie in order to please someone else, but here he was with the love of his life, so Akiteru wondered how this would turn out. “He did buy that lot last round,” he said with finality, hand still resting on your shoulder. “Maybe we should give him this one so that he won’t feel too bad when he loses later?” he added, pretending to whisper but obviously wanting his brother to hear it.

A smug smile fell over your mouth, and Kei swore you were trying to get him to kiss you even though it was directed at his brother. You sighed dramatically, acting very agreeable. “Fine, keep your lot. I’d say you owe me ten per cent of each rent but it won’t matter in the end anyway,” you teased, eyes looking over the board like you were so nonchalant about it, and Kei snickered from beside you. He leaned his arm over the back of your chair, matching your energy.

Akiteru scoffed, crossing his arms and totally seeing why you and his little brother got along so well. You’re both menaces.

“Let her skip this rent though, as a lesson in responsibility,” your boyfriend added, gesturing towards his brother’s fiancé with a suave ‘your turn to roll’.

As if Kei wasn’t motivated to find the right engagement ring before, he definitely was now. You’re part of the family already.

masterlist

[bandgie]

stray kids as tattoo artists? I read a fic on AO3 once where Jisung Chan and Felix all owned a tattoo parlour (called Red Lights hehe) and reader worked there and got brought into their OT8 poly relationship and it lives rent free in my brain.

But anyway, what do you think they would be like as tattoo artists? Who would tattoo what body parts? Who would fuck you in the chair, who would give you head/let you suck them off, and who would force themselves to remain professional even though you can see they're hard?

wait I so need the fic if you have it plzzz

MDNI 18+ under the cut

fucking you

lee know - you have such a shy yet aroused look the moment you're in the chair. he'd touch you lightly at first, knuckles bumping against your breasts to clean the skin for the tattoo. your breath would hitch, your eyes would stare into his and you'd bite your lip. all it takes is a little nod from your end and he's undoing his belt

hyunjin - no because he never really does this. he's usually so professional, even with the hungry eyes staring at him, but there's just something so sexy about you. maybe it's the tattoos you already have, slightly faded and in need of a touch up. once he establishes that you are, in fact, wanting him the same way he wants you, he'd go to the front door of his shop and flip the sign to 'closed'

Seungmin - you'd have to beg him for it ngl. you're a regular at his parlor and he just loves how flustered you get. Seungmin doesn't mind teasing you for your session, but you just cant take it anymore. you'd make him move the stencil over and over again just under your boobs because 'its just not right' and you'd offer to take off your shirt so it's easier for him. that's the last straw for him and he'd waste no time in getting you on his cock

oral sex

changbin - he's giving you head, no questions asked. he's shaving the inner part of your thigh and your legs just look so good in shorts. he's gulping, eyes wide and briefly looking at your crotch. you notice though, and you'd gently place your hand over his and push the razor away, opening your legs so he can get a better look. he might panic at first, claiming he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you shush him and grab the back of his head to guide him to your cunt.

han - you're on your tummy, feeling han prep you for a back tattoo. honestly, if he wasn't so nervous he'd fuck you just like that, but you start giving him innocent compliments that lead to you not-so-innocently sitting him on the laid out chair and getting on your knees. he's just so cute whimpering and biting into his hand while his thighs tremble around your face

professional

chan - this honestly shouldn't be a surprise. he takes his job very seriously, and no matter how many times your hand accidentally brushes against his cock or how prettily you bat your eyelashes, he will not do anything out of line. but ofc you can see the strain, and tent in his jeans that must be so uncomfortable. he's got a red blush on his ears, but he's so keen on making sure he's professional throughout the session. maybe you just need to make another appointment

felix - I think he likes knowing that you know he's horny, if that makes sense. it's the yearning that really turns him on, the longing stares, the lip bite he does when his touches linger. even if it makes his cock throb, he just loves teasing you too much to do anything. still, I do think he'd grind his front against your body 'accidentally' and he wouldn't say no if you start palming him while he shaves your arm to clean to area

jeongin - is just nervous. he really isn't sure if you're flirting with him or not. a lot of girls try to do favors in getting out of paying, but you're just so persistent you tip very good after each session. he's thought about taking things a step further, but he really isn't sure how to. if he's doing a chest tattoo, his hand will find purchase on your tit, a small blush on his face saying it helps in keeping him anchored. you don't push him, a sweet smile on your face as you tell him you don't mind, that it feels good. he gulps, cock hardening in his sweats and he prays he doesn't have to stand for a while

not proofread lmao

[rodolfoparras]

Thinking about the very early stages of your relationship with old man Price, where everything is so new to you and insecurities start eating away at you especially when you hear 141 make an off hand comment about how Price has slept with practically half the soldiers on base, including Nik who seems to have a good reputation going around because of his skills and size.

You think about it so much to the point where you’re unable to get intimate with the man. You hadn’t even gone as far at to have sex, had only stuck to blowjobs and handjobs because Price knew this was your first time doing anything at all with a man and he wanted to go at your pace but now you’re unable to even give him a peck on the lips without thinking about what a lackluster experience it must be for him.

At first you enjoyed letting him have all your firsts- letting him lead each and every kiss, letting experienced hands take you apart in a matter of minutes, following his words like the gospel as you took his cock in your mouth or letting him guide your shaky hand as he showed you how to touch him but now all you can think about is how you’re unable to make him cum.

Price tried to explain his body isn’t what it once had been and he may not be able to get hard like before but he still enjoyed the warmth of your mouth, the way your lips lay stretched taut around his cock, the way you’d looked up at him beneath tears soaked lashes gauging his every reaction, and most importantly he still liked to see how good you tried to make him feel.

You just couldn’t get over it. It’d be on your mind when you had him soft in your mouth. It’d be on your mind when tears would trickle down your cheeks because he was just too goddamn big for someone so inexperienced. It’d be on your mind whenever you’d think about your first time- would it be anything like all the men he’s been with- or would you disappoint and with that also ruin a potential future together.

Price wasn’t stupid he quickly noticed your change in behavior. It didn’t take much to see how you’d pull away whenever he’d try to deepen a kiss or how you’d make up some excuse before he could drop to his knees. At first he thought he’d been too eager- too intense so he dialed it back. After all this was the first time ever you’d been with a man.

However Price couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it than him acting like a love struck teenager.

Eventually Price confronts you about it- all while in the middle of a hot and heavy make out, with his hand down your pants, as you’re begging and pleading for him to suck you off.



But Price refuses, won’t do anything till you tell him what’s wrong stands firm on the matter like his palm firmly stays pressed up against your cock, unmoving until you tell him what’s been heavy on your heart.

For a moment you wonder if you should just walk away from him, jerk off in the shower and call it a night- anything to save the little bit of pride you got left inside of you.

But you hadn’t had his mouth or hands on you in weeks- the mission he’d been sent out keeping him busy- with only racy pics being sent your way to satisfy your needs.

At first they had helped but eventually you had grown tired of fucking into your hand.

So swallowing down the last bit of pride you decide to fess up. and you’re stumbling over your words- hands flailing in the air as you try to explain yourself- his hand leaving your pants as you proceed to pace around the room you’re in - the soldiers- Nik- your relationship with the older man- the hand jobs and blowjobs that pale in comparison to everything he’s done before he met you- and when you finally halt yourself- chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, and throat slightly tingling from the strain, you finally meet his gaze only to see he looks baffled as ever, wide eyed and mouth agape.

It’s rare to see him like this- the ever so composed man finally looks at loss for words and if this had been any other situation maybe you would had revealed in the fact that you managed to get this reaction.

But now you stand there with pulse roaring in your ears hands shaking, waiting for him to put the nail to the coffin that is your and his relationship- he will soon turn on his heel and chase down Nik to relive the good times and leave you in the dust.

However instead of running away, he’s coming closer, til both of you are falling back onto the mattress, strong legs falling to each side of your waist and caging you to the bed as a hand falls to the side of your head.

“What are you doing?” You say, looking as baffled as he’d been a moment ago, although you’re not opposed to being this close. You’ve always loved how well your bodies fit together like a puzzle piece coming together.

“Going to teach you how to fuck this old man,” he says, lips curling up into a smile as he leans in closer to you.