#no way in fuck I can wear it in the plane :/ but it looks sick af

[miley1442111]

stalker- s.reid

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: spencer saves you.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, gore and brief descriptions of harm, mutual pining, heavy topics, stalking, reader if from Texas

Spencer sat at his desk, a less than pleasant expression on his face. His glasses had slid down his nose, his usually perfectly gelled hair was messy, and a frown played at his lips. 

“If you stare any longer you’re going to end up with your face stuck like that,” Jj joked as she placed herself in his eyeline. Spencer’s frown deepened and Jj chuckled. “Come on, we have a case.”

Spencer got up, falling into stride with you as you left your desk, hanging up the phone.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to make small talk. You were new to the team, an old contractor Strauss had hand-picked, you were smart (smarter than him), beautiful, and you were so polite and dutiful that Spencer couldn’t tell if you were actually his friend. You just had an air of coolness that seemed so unreachable for Spencer. You and Derek had worked together in Chicago, you two made sense as friends, Penelope, Emily, Jj, and you all got along well, that made sense. David and you had a shared love of cooking, something SPencer couldn’t even begin to understand. You even made Aaron laugh on the worst of days with some witty comment or sarcastic joke. 

Had Derek just asked you to befriend Spencer for the team's sake? Why would you be interested in him? It made no sense.

You smiled. “My friend from home.”

“Where are you from?” He asked as you two sat in the conference room, Aaron shot you two a look that Spencer clearly didn’t see so you didn’t answer. 

“Tell you later,” you whispered as the briefing began. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Walking into the sweltering heat of Texas from the lovely air-conditioned plane was quite the shock to the body. 

“Fuck it’s hot,” you sighed, pulling off your hoodie to reveal a tight black top beneath. Yes, it was work-appropriate and completely within regulations, but Spencer’s eyes all but popped out of his head like he was in one of those cartoons. 

“You’re drooling,” Derek joked from beside him, pretending to wipe his chin. Spencer pushed his hands away with a shy smile, trying to recover from his embarrassing moment. 

“Ok, Spencer and Derek you two go to the latest crime scene, Y/n, Jj and I will go to the precinct, David and Emily you two will go talk to the deceased family,” Aaron gave out jobs. “Oh and Y/n, I want you with someone at all times, this unSub is going after women with your exact description and our team is a definite hit for him. He’s made contact with the police asking specifically for you and me,” Aaron explained. 

You all dispersed into your separate cars and began working the case. The precinct was full of slimy cops who all promised to ‘protect you’, just not from themselves.

“We want you to wear this,” Jj handed you a bulletproof vest and you rolled your eyes. 

“Seriously? I’m not a porcelain doll, I can handle myself-” You tried to reason with them but the look on Aaron’s face made you stop. He, himself, was wearing one too. “Fine.”

“Good,” Jj smiled. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spencer was worrying himself sick at the crime scene, rambling about all the ways the unSub could get to you and how you shouldn’t even be in the state.

“Spencer!” Derek exclaimed. “Go to your girlfriend, send Jj back after you. You’re no help when you’re like this.”

Spencer didn’t take kindly to the small jest, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed the keys and drove down to the precinct, finding Jj immediately and making up a poorly executed lie about feeling sick. She saw right through him.

“Hope you feel better Spence,” she smirked. “Y/n is with Hotch interviewing a suspect here,” she pointed it out on a map. “See you later.”

After grabbing the keys to Emily and David’s vehicle (they’d just come back from the crime scene) and driving there, anxiety ran through him as he found the door to the farmhouse open. He turned the corner, finding three figures. One was on the floor, shouting in agony, the other was standing, hands above their head. The third was holding a gun.

He turned back, dialling Derek’s number. 

“We need back-up, we’re at 34 Terrace Avenue! Agent down!” He spoke quietly into his phone. 

“We’re on the way kid, don’t go in without back-up,” Derek told him. Spencer didn’t respond. “Spencer?”

“She’s dying,” he reasoned and hung up, walking in. “FBI! Put your weapons down!” 

The unSub, Mitchell O’Hara had been obsessed with you since high school, you’d rejected him in senior year when he’d asked you to the prom since you already had plans with friends. All over the farmhouse, there were photos of you from every stage of your life. Childhood to teenage years, to college years, to your various positions before joining the BAU just a few months ago, including your CIA and covert Ops positions. 

Spencer could see you on the ground, multiple knife wounds in your exposed torso, he’d made you take off your vest, Spencer thought. You groaned in pain on the floor. “Spencer?” You asked hazily. Spencer kept his gun trained on Mitchell. 

“Yeah?” He was stalling, waiting for Aaron to get his own gun or for back-up to arrive. 

“Good,” you were slipping out of consciousness. “I’ve always liked you,” you smiled hazily. Spencer would be elated at those words if the circumstances were different. 

“This is your dream guy Y/n?!” Mitchell shouted. “Him?!” 

“He’s nice,” you managed. “He’s funny.”

“I’m nice! I’m funny!” Mitchell screamed. 

“You’re not Spencer,” you mumbled as everything went dark. 

SWAT suddenly filled the room and Spencer ran to you, trying to stop the bleeding. Thank god Derek had ordered for an ambulance to follow them to the scene.

As Aaron cuffed Mitchell, Spencer went with you in the ambulance. He watched as they attempted to treat your wounds, needing to cut open your shirt. Spencer was shocked to find what looked like 50 different scars. Some from bullets, others knives, others things he couldn’t name. He knew you’d been in the CIA and on a Cover Ops team, he never thought you would’ve been hurt this many times and still have the strength to go on. The ambulance pulled up to the hospital and you were brought straight into emergency surgery. 

He waited for hours there just pacing, nervously biting at his nails, or attempting to sit there as no one told him a thing. He lied, saying he was your boyfriend. Technically it wasn’t a lie, you liked him, he liked you. He just hadn’t asked. 

“Dr. Reid?” A nurse called out. He stood immediately. “She’s stable and should be waking up soon, you can see her.”

Spencer nodded a ‘thanks’ her way and entered your hospital room. 

You were alive. You were here. You were awake. 

You smiled at him. “Hey.”

Your voice was hoarse, tired from the shouting you’d done. 

“Hi.”

“Thanks for saving me Spencer,” you smiled. “And about what I said… if you don’t feel the same I’d totally get it. I just thought I was… y’know dying so…”

Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I like you a lot too.”

You grinned. “Good.”

He leaned down, a sudden surge of confidence ran through him and he kissed you softly.

“I’m from Texas by the way,” you smiled against his lips. 

“I actually guessed that, yeah,” he joked, making you laugh. God, he loved your laugh. 

He loved you. He just wouldn’t tell you that yet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #bau team #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Canon Compliant Recs

Click below for some of my favorite fics that are book and/or movie canon compliant!

Every Version by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf. M, 1.1k. Alex does a magazine photoshoot, and the day that the magazine arrives, he wants Henry to look at it first.

Acts of Service by TuppingLiberty. E, 1.4k. After a vacation, Henry shaves Alex’s scruff off, because he loves taking care of Alex.

5+1 Times Henry Was Attracted To Alex (Texas Edition) by @absoluteaudacitywrites. E, 1.4k. Alex in a Stetson though. That’s the stuff of Henry’s most filthy dreams. He swears his husband gets even more Texan with it on, his drawl getting slower, more syrupy. He calls Henry darlin’ and tips the brow to him as he passes and Henry knows it’s stupid but he finds himself weak at the knees from being in proximity to his own personal cowboy.

A Hoarse I Love You by a_velvet_blazer. NR, 1.6k. Alex knew he wasn’t particularly… pleasant when he got sick.

Before, in the white house, June helped out. She had a container of Vicks in her room and would bring him soup from the kitchen. She had down the perfect mix of checking on him to make sure he was still breathing and leaving him alone to wallow.

The times he was sick in the brownstone were easy enough to play off, with (a different) tub of Vicks in their bathroom with a nice collection of Advil and Tylenol.

He has a system.

That is, until he doesn't.

boxing with no gloves by @littlemisskittentoes. G, 2.2k. Henry is pushing his arms through the woolen sleeves of a peacoat. He faces Alex and there’s no softness left in his features. He’s genuinely angry this time. None of the endeared exhaustion of his antics Alex is so used to seeing from him. None of the fondness that always plays hide and seek in his eyes when he looks at Alex. Henry looks blank and placid. His press face, edged with a hint of venom.

And Alex has seen versions of this face. He’s seen a calmer facade of it, one that had boarded a plane back to England by the time Alex woke up.

There’s something cold settling in Alex’s stomach. A kind of panic crawling up his throat. There’s ice dancing at his fingertips, but his hands are sweating, and oh God, Henry’s leaving again.

Or, Alex and Henry get into a fight. Henry tries to leave, Alex needs him to stay. So he does.

I'd Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You by @sparklepocalypse. E, 2.3k. In hindsight, Alex should probably have known that letting Henry borrow his clothes for the weekend would absolutely wreck him. But Henry had fretted about his wardrobe being too formal for a casual visit to the lake house, and Alex has developed somewhat of a Pavlovian response to the way Henry’s brows furrow and his mouth pinches when he’s anxious. Once the words “You can just wear my stuff, no worries,” were out there, there’d been no stuffing them back into his mouth.

Here’s the thing Alex should’ve taken into consideration: Henry would look hot dressed in a garbage bag. So the morning after their lake house arrival, when Henry steps out of the shower and into a pair of Alex’s swim trunks and Alex’s Arrels Barcelona shirt, Alex takes one look at him and drops his phone.

(Movieverse; Henry wears Alex's clothes at the lake house and Alex reacts accordingly.)

i'm so in love (i might stop breathing) by vibrantsaturn. T, 2.4k. He looks so fucking gorgeous like this, eyes half-lidded as he looks at Alex. He rests his head on Alex's chest, tightening his arms. Alex can see the tips of his ears turning pink.

"It's ! H G E J F M W C D 2 4 !" he mumbles in embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of Alex's neck again. A beat of silence.

Then, almost shouting in joy, Alex yells, "Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor- Claremont-Diaz! That's your fucking password?"

"Shut up!" Henry hisses and Alex feels so many butterflies in his stomach that he's going to throw himself off of a cliff. Really, teenage girls with celebrity crushes have nothing on him at this moment.

or,

Henry is drunk and Alex is so in love he could die.

it was you he gave me by @coffeecatsme. E, 2.5k. The tattoo artist traces Alex’s thigh with a gloved finger as she grabs the needle, brows furrowed as if she’s trying to make sense of the lettering. “This is beautiful,” she says, awe in her voice. Alex feels a sort of pride surge through him. “Who’s the poet?”

Alex smiles. “If I tell you, can you keep a secret?”

Or, Alex finds a pen in their sex toy drawer and Henry finds a use for it.

in sickness, and in health by softcinnamonroll. T, 2.5k. It all started with a slight niggle in Alex’s right side. He was at the library, face deep in one of his law textbooks as he studied for his midterms and he sat back to stretch, only to feel a sharp nip in the side. He frowned as a hiss left his lips, hand moving to grip his side slightly and rub the skin where it hurt. He didn’t think too much about it, after all he had been sitting in the same position for hours. It was likely due to lack of movement.

A Goddamn Fairytale by toffrox. T, 2.5k. Henry wants to be angry. He does. He wants to feel it simmering in his chest, wants to be sitting there like Alex is next to him with his eyes smouldering. He wants to be like Bea, pacing the room with her fists clenched, absolutely livid. 

"You can't let her do this!" Bea cries.

"It's just one tiny part of the day," Henry says with a sigh. "Everything else will be exactly as planned. I'm just not sure it's worth having a big fight over."

Bea glares and looks like she's going to rant when Alex cuts in-

"Fuck. That."

A Lover's Embrace by septemberleaves. T, 2.6k. Alex realizes he doesn't know the name of Henry's cologne and has a slight crisis.

Asking For Permission by @cultofsappho. T, 2.6k. Henry knows he's going to ask Alex to marry him. And he knows its a ridiculous tradition, but he wants to ask the most important person in Alex's life for their blessing, just to be sure.

Behind a Locked Door by @rmd-writes. E, 2.8k. Alex glances at the celebrant who holds out the card with his vows printed on them. He looks at Henry as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his reading glasses. Henry’s eyes widen and as Alex puts his glasses on, there’s a sharp inhale from Henry. Alex winks. Henry looks like he might have stopped breathing.

What happens when Alex pulls his glasses out during their wedding ceremony? Henry finds a room with a locked door. 

wake and shake by weather_stained. E, 2.8k. Alex wakes up to find Henry indulging in some...classical literature.

Just Say Yes by @everwitch-magiks. G, 3.2k. “Well,” Alex says slowly, “You look… marriable? I guess.” He lets his feet carry him a couple of steps closer, reaching out to adjust Henry’s tie even though it’s already perfect. “I’m not a hundred percent on this shade of blue, though.”

Henry’s bottom lip catches between his teeth as he meets Alex’s eyes, his expression one of carefully concealed amusement. “Heaven forbid that you marry a man whose choice of neckwear doesn’t convey a sense of adventure,” he says gravely. “Would you perhaps prefer something patterned? Why don’t we request one with little embroidered pictures of David?”

Alex grins widely. “A personal touch. I love that, baby.”

The royal stylist is glancing between the two of them with abject horror.

you look so good it hurts by greenandmoss. M, 3.2k. After Berlin, Alex can't find his sweater.

Or: English Princes are thieves and Alex doesn't have the strength to cope with seeing Henry wearing his clothes.

Favours by Veronae. E, 3.3k. Buttercream swirls haunt his nightmares.

Henry got Alex a cupcake for his birthday, and they do sexy things with it.

in bloom by rizcriz. T, 3.5K. This is all Nora’s fault. No, actually, it’s the fucking Crown’s fault. No, no, it’s homophobia’s fault. Fuck, okay, he doesn’t know who to blame but he’s pinning it on the lapels of the universe with a frown and a fuck you.

Because Henry, beautiful, wonderful, rosy cheeked Henry—the man Alex would fucking die for and who deserves the whole god damned world—has never been given flowers. It may seem small, innocuous, but the look in his eyes as June smells the bouquet of lilacs Nora brought to the bar for her says fucking otherwise.

Henry’s words are still hanging over the group of them; “I wouldn’t know,” he’d said with a small shrug and a smile that said he wasn’t too upset, but Alex saw the little crease in his brow, the way his gaze dropped to the table on the shrug, he knows it matters; “I’ve never been given any.”

Or, five times Alex bought Henry flowers.

when you say my name (i like the way it sounds) by kittentoes. G, 3.6k. When he looks back, he gives himself a moment to take it in. He basks in the sound of familiar laughter echoing around their kitchen in the simmering warmth and comfortability that comes with being sucked into Pez’s antics and lulled back by Bea’s steadiness. He revels in the swirl of Nora’s genius and calm of June’s kindness.

It’s not quite the same as LA all those years ago. It doesn’t take him by surprise or feel novel anymore. But it's still that feeling of rightness, a crystal clear understanding that this, these people, will always be a kind of home to him.

or, The Super Six take on a Halloween party. Henry, for once, let’s himself let loose. Drunk, uninhabited, and free to love Alex in public, Henry is happy. Alex stays sober to look after him, and he is so in love he could die.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart by @omgcmere. M, 3.8k. Tracing the evolution of sweetheart in five scenes over the years.

Everything’s Growing in our Garden by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 4k. Alex hums in contentment, turning his face in Henry's lap. "You haven't played polo for a long time now," he says casually.

"I haven't," Henry agrees.

"But your thighs are still so fucking strong," Alex says around a groan, and suddenly, Henry knows where this conversation is going very, very quickly.

In which Alex and Henry celebrate an anniversary with a picnic and some thigh worship.

L’Amour de Ma Vie by quill_and_ink. E, 4k. He studies his expressions like he'll be tested on them later, and he'll be damned if he misses a single question.

In other words, it's the Paris bed blooper.

Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz by TuppingLiberty. E, 4k. Five times Alex wears an amusing bi pride shirt to Brooklyn Pride, and one time both he and Henry do it.

to build a home by @indomitable-love. T, 4.1k. He loves the life they’ve made for themselves. It’s messy and busy – there’s always a cardigan of Henry’s thrown over a chair and a paperback open on the arm of the chair with the spine cracked; Alex’s notes on the dining room table, and three different loyalty cards for the coffee shop down the street on the table by the door because Alex keeps forgetting his in different pockets. His life with Henry is full of laughter and soft touches: David curled up at Alex’s side as he reads through class notes while Henry snaps a photo; Henry's arms around him when he gets in from class; the two of them bartering over whose turn it is to take David out when he needs to go out and it’s raining.

It’s mundane a lot of the time – something Alex never thought he would want – but he loves it.

Or, at least, he loves it when Henry is here.

Which, right now, he isn’t.

He hasn’t been here for five weeks. Which… like, it’s fine. It’s not a whole a thing.

Henry goes back to England and ends up having to stay far longer than expected. But he'll always come back to Alex.

Kiss and Tell by @dani-dabbles. M, 4.1k. “Now that is spine-melting, isn’t it?” Henry speaks in a dreamy, lascivious way that in any other context would be very flattering. But right now? With the current company?

Nora hums, barely avoiding sloshing wine as she raises her glass in the air, “No complaints. No notes. Ten out of fucking ten.”

Both sigh happily and eerily in sync, knocking back more wine.

Henry’s head lulls in Nora’s direction, “So the other night, we tried something new and we-”

No. Absolutely not. Alex can’t hear anymore. He needs to stop this.

First Monday in May by @three-drink-amy. E, 4.3k. “How do I get invited to the Met Gala?”

“If I knew that, Alex, I’d have been there before,” she says, looking back at her magazine.

Alex throws himself on her bed and tosses the magazine behind him to the floor. “June! Come on. Help me!”

“Why do you want to go to the goddamn Met Gala? When I showed you pictures from it before, you asked why they were dressed like that. Why do you want to go?” She laughs to herself. “What, did Henry get invited?”

He falls silent in reply.

The White House Trio, Henry, and Pez attend the 2020 Met Gala.

If You Love Something by allmylovesatonce. M, 4.3k. Alex calls Henry to tell him a funny incident from his day. When a miscommunication sends them both reeling, both of them are questioning if the other is wanting to end their relationship. Their friends take things upon themselves to get them to see eye to eye.

no one's gonna love you more than i do by peppermintpatties. G, 4.3k. 5 times Henry became Alex’s support system in law school + 1 time Alex made sure the whole world knows it

Backseat Serenade by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 4.4k. "You seriously don't remember?"

"Alex, for the life of me, I do not."

Alex's face splits into a devilish grin. "Oh, baby." His voice is absolutely sultry. "All I'm hearing is that I gotta make you remember."

'cause I love to watch you dream by Rainbow_waffles. T, 4.5k. “Don' turn off the light,” Alex mumbles again and Henry is really, really struggling not to laugh.

“Why?" he questions softly, inching his face closer to Alex so he could hear him. Alex doesn't answer.

“Why, love?” he presses.

“They need t'see,” Alex grumbles and shifts a bit.

“Who needs to see?” Henry thinks that if Alex mentions any other people or ghosts being around he's going to either wake Alex up or go sleep in the guest room, he's not having any of this.

“The bugs,” Alex mumbles exasperatingly as if it should be obvious.

Five times Alex talks in his sleep +1 time Henry does.

yrs. faithfully (if a little early) by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 4.6k. “You’re going to be over an hour early for your first lecture,” Henry points out from his seat at the kitchen table as Alex shoves an apple and a bottle of water into his bag, looking around for his shoes with a frown.

“Well, yeah,” he says distractedly, locating said shoes and squatting down to slip them on and tie his laces. “I was gonna cram some studying in at the library at the end of the day, but now I can do it before the day really starts. Efficient as fuck.” Henry snorts delicately into his cup of Earl Grey and puts it down on the table when Alex straightens and rolls his shoulders.

“Admirable,” Henry says.

a goddamn blaze in the dark (and you started it) by orionseye. T, 4.6k. “You had a thing with who?” Spencer asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“No one. It’s nothing.“

“Oh c’mon. We finally get to the juicy shit and you won’t tell me?“

Liam bites his lip, stifling a laugh. “I had a thing with my best friend. All through high school.”

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“I did! I thought I was a proud heterosexual until I came here and figured shit out. We–we just, didn’t talk about it. Somewhere in our minds, the whole “making out for an hour” thing was, like, straight or something.”

a.k.a, liam and spencer’s adventures through the tendency of a famous ex-boyfriend to cause international scandals.

How to save a life by dollarstoreannabethchase. G, 4.7k. “Henry,” Cash’s voice called from the other side of the closed door to their brownstone, and something in his voice set goosebumps to Henry’s skin. “You need to come with me. It’s Alex.” Henry had gotten up from the piano immediately and flung the door open, wearing nothing but a ratty old t-shirt and sweatpants. “What is it?” he asked, dread creeping down his spine in a slithering motion. “There’s been an accident.”

Or: Henry's day after Alex is in a car crash, not knowing whether or not he'll make it.

I Choose You by @cityofdownwardspirals. T, 4.7k. Finally, after a long moment, Alex speaks up. “So…he seemed nice,” he says, matter-of-factly. He still isn’t looking directly at Henry.

“He is. Not like we talk a lot. I haven’t seen him in years,” Henry admits, turning fully towards Alex to show him he has his full attention for this conversation.

Alex takes a gulp of his champagne before turning towards Henry as well. “And what happened all those years ago?”

OR

Alex and Henry attend their first official event in the UK as a couple after the elections. Henry is proud to finally be able to introduce his boyfriend to the world. When Alex meets an unexpected guest, he gets an answer to the question of "which other famous boys Henry has shagged" and he seems to struggle just a little bit with it.

What If I Do? by colorfulmoniker. T, 4.9k. What was Henry thinking when he left Alex at the lake house? What were the days that followed like for him before Alex showed up at his door and forced him to face not only Alex, but himself?

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy by cmere. E, 6.3k. "Would now be the moment," Henry says, breath catching, "to tell you about a little fantasy I've had concerning you and horses?"

Alex snickers. "Uh, I don't know, babe. If this is going the way it sounds, I'm not sure you should say anything you won't be able to take back."

"Oh, Christ, shut it," Henry says, laughing, still not stopping the motions of his hand. "The horse aspect is nonsexual."

"Okay, well in that case. Yes. Obviously." Alex grips his own thigh, refusing to give in and touch Henry, or himself. For now. As long as he can stand it.

As it turns out, Alex isn't the only one who has a thing for his beloved on a horse. Henry's birthday seems like a good time to make use of that new information.

i ask you how you’re doing (and i let you lie) by matherine. M, 6.6k. The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones.

“God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.”

Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.

sink beneath the waves by indomitablelove. M, 7.1k He leaves the note in the kitchen, and slips back out into the dark morning and into the waiting car. He wonders if Alex will ever know quite how much everything truly means.

The lake house to Kensington, from Henry's POV.

in wildest dreams (i never dreamed of this) by millsx. T, 8k. “H?” Alex asks, turning around. He’s been sitting with his back against Henry’s chest, listening to his low voice rambling about saltwater and coastlines.

A Stork Beneath London Bridge by @ficsmarvelmerlinao3. G, 7.5k. Henry was supposed to be enjoying his first fully American Thanksgiving, filled with first hand witnessing of the Turkey Horrors and strangely sweet vegetable dishes. But in a single whispered phrase the world turns immaterial, Alex is his only anchoring point, and the black suit carefully packed over every single trip is being laid out on the pretty pink bedspread.

Henry stops and looks at him, prompting him to go on with a tip of his head.

 “You’re my favorite person ever,” Alex says quietly.

 It’s Alex’s birthday in New York City, and life is just a little bit better than he would have ever imagined.

i will find you darling (and i will bring you home) by indomitablelove. E, 8.2k. ‘You’ve never had it from both sides of the ocean before, and– well, the devil works hard but the British tabloids work harder,’ he says with a sad smile.

take me out and take me home by coffeecatsme. M, 10k. “Shh.” Alex presses a finger over Henry’s lips. Their corners twitch, as if Henry’s desperately fighting a smile. “This is our house, baby. We gotta make it our own."

The press and public opinion are fickle masters. One day they love you, the next they hate you. Alex struggles with the constant negativity of the news cycle, Henry makes him feel better.

A real fucking legacy series by @dreamsinthewitchouse. E, 9.9k. Alex drifts into consciousness in a bed full of tangled limbs and warm, sleep-rumpled skin. He’s lying half on his stomach and half on his side, the shoulder smushed against the bed protesting in a way that tells him he’s going to have a crick in his neck for the rest of the day.

But fuck if he cares, with Henry stirring next to him, one of his long legs draped over the back of Alex’s thigh. Alex doesn’t need to open his eyes to know the room is hazy with filtered sunlight, spilling pale yellow through the carelessly drawn curtains.

Soon after Ellen's election, Henry and Alex move into a brownstone in New York. This is a story of how they make it home.

every day is a birthday by indomitablelove. E, 10k. Henry blinks a couple of times and sits up quickly. He gives a cursory glance to David on the back seat, checking he’s still there – as though he hasn’t been asleep since the second they pulled out of their street – and leans over to look out of the window.

‘Alex,’ he breathes. He’s quiet for a minute, then murmurs, ‘it’s beautiful.’ Henry turns to him with narrowed eyes, both suspicion and mirth glinting happily in them. ‘What are you planning?’

Alex simply reaches over and clasps Henry’s hand with his own, then brings them to his lips. ‘Happy birthday, baby.’

Alex surprises Henry with a belated birthday weekend away... with the help of a few visitors.

Every nation ought to have a right to provide for its own happiness. by imaginentertain. T, 11k. "And that's when Henry knows: He doesn't ever want to go back."

"This is very formal," she says eventually. "Sending a request for an audience with your grandmother."

"Yes, well, this needs to be done formally," Henry says, "it needs to be done right."

And in that moment Henry sees his mother stiffen a little beside him and he knows she's realised. She's put the pieces together. If he's not here to ask for permission to marry then—

Henry takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders back to lift him up to full height, and draws on all the courage he can muster. "I have come to inform you that I wish to abdicate," he says, just as he'd written and rehearsed, "and I would therefore like to petition Parliament as soon as possible."

Title is from Alexander Hamilton's letter on foreign policy. Because what else could I use?

Book canon compliant.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis. M, 11k. Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

Smiles Await You When You Rise by supernatural_mondler (starzinoureyes). T, 11k. It’s incredible, really; he spent almost all day trying, willing himself into slumber, but after less than an hour of listening to Alex’s soothing voice and looking at his beautiful face, Henry is just moments away from the most peaceful sleep he’s had in weeks. God, why don’t they just do this every night? Henry might be able to get his sleep cycle back to normal if he only had Alex talk to him whenever it was time for bed.

Or, five times Alex helps Henry fall asleep.

No Regrets by @uglygreenjacket. M, 11k. “I think we should have a royal wedding.” It’s a thing Alex says to Henry over breakfast one Saturday morning shortly after they get engaged.

And he really hopes he doesn't come to regret it.

Love, Pyramus by @sprigsofviolets. T, 15k. Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor has always been different, and he spends his life finding himself in the pages of a book, connecting with queer people through literature.

Alejito y Marimar series by th0ughts. T, 18k. He continues to mutter ramblings about high society and the impossible balancing act of keeping up appearances before he falters to a tapering quiet, brown eyes coming alight with a realization.

Martha’s stomach churns, sensing a grand idea that could either be pure genius or terribly ill-advised. (With most of Alex’s ideas, it’s usually both.)

Alex is Martha’s plus one at her high school’s pre-reunion soirée, and she learns a thing or two about gumption.

I love you, aint that the worst thing you ever heard? by dollarstoreannabethchase. E, 18k. Because Alex is Alex, and as they say in Scandal, he’s the kind of person who would blindly follow someone he loves over a cliff. All Henry can think about is that Alex doesn’t understand what’s waiting for him at the bottom of that cliff; that Alex is hopelessly optimistic—naive, even—but Henry knows they won’t survive the fall. And he cannot, for the life of him, figure out why, out of all the things Alex could choose to go over a cliff for, he seems so set on choosing Henry.

Or: Henry’s perspective of the lake house and the week he and Alex are broken up.

Las Flores series by 14carrotgold. M, 26k. Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?”

Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?”

Ah.

Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

all that glitters (is not gold) by indomitablelove. E, 111k. Alex Claremont-Diaz has it all. His mom won the election, he’s got the perfect boyfriend. He gets to love Henry out loud. Everything is great. Perfect.

Except for the itch under his skin every time he goes outside, and the tightness in his chest when he goes online, and the fact that he can’t fucking sleep.

But it's fine. He's fine. Really.

Or: after the emails, Alex Claremont-Diaz isn’t fine.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[michellemisfit]

Weekly Tag Wednesday ✈️ Neeeooow Edition

Thanks for the tag @deedala @energievie @sam-loves-seb @mybrainismelted @sleepyfacetoughguy @guinguin1984

—---------------------------

Name: Michelle

Age: Old enough to know better

Location: My bed, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket

📍where are we going? I wanna say Cape Cod, but it’s -3 there right now, so fuck that. Australia it is! 🦘

📍whats the weather like there right now? 22•C (feels like 24), according to Google

📍are you an over-packer or a light-packer? Over-packer, though I have also been known to pack 12 bras but not bring any pants… though these days I keep very detailed lists and get Ruth to double check my packing multiple times!

📍are we taking a plane or a train? If you can find me a train, I’ll take it! Hahaha but no. Neeeooow all the way! ✈️

📍early morning departure or an overnight trip? If we’re going to Australia it’s gonna be all of it. Loooong travel. I’m gonna watch so many movie and my butt is gonna go so numb!!

📍what song are you playing in the car while we drive to catch our departure?

📍we need to grab something on the way, starbucks or dunkin? Fucking Dunkin’ Donuts. The last time I was in the states we stopped at a Dunkin for donuts and were informed that they didn’t have any donuts… like, wtf? And then we found out that they are phasing out selling donuts. Like, double wtf?!? So yeah, Starbucks all the way.

📍we've made it to the transportation place 🚂✈️! be honest, are we on-time or are we rushing because we're running late? Always early. I’d rather spend an extra 3 hours in an airport McDonalds than be late for a plane. I get travel anxiety.

📍are you taking the window seat or the aisle seat? I like the aisle seat for the freedom to pee when I want, without annoying someone else! (This is gonna be everyone’s answer, isn’t it? haha)

📍we're settled in our seats, are you gonna read or watch a movie/show? Bit of both. I do like getting my money’s worth in beverages and free movies, so I try and watch and consume as many as possible. But sometimes my ears hurt from too much earbud wearing, so I switch to reading for a bit. Then back to movies!

📍what are you reading/watching? Generally all the movies I thought ‘oh, might go and see that’ in the cinema and never did. And then as we get closer to landing I will swap to a movie I know inside out, because it will inevitably cut off before I get to the end.

📍are you using wireless or wired headphones? Wired. I don’t fuck with pods.

📍are you going to take a nap or stay awake? I can sleep pretty much anywhere, but I get overtired and twitchy anxious on planes, so I’m not the best airplane sleeper.

📍do you want a salty snack or a sweet snack? Salty snack 90% of the time. However I also like bringing my own selection of snacks, so I’m not held to the whims of the airplane company! lol

📍we've arrived! are we heading straight to activities or are we gonna rest at the hotel? I actually don’t mind. I’ve gone straight from airports to restaurants, concerts, plays etc and it’s been fine. Make the most of the day you’ve got and all that. Depends on how much luggage I’ve got though.

📍finally, pick a treat to reward yourself for a travel day well done! A nice looooong sleep in a comfy bed!!!

Tagging @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @jrooc @heymacy @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @juliakayyy @crossmydna @rutherinahobbit @rereadanon @redshirt2 @crestfallercanyon @creepkinginc @captainjowl @the-rat-wins @tsuga-of-mars @ian-galagher @iansfreckles @ohkate @faejilly @palepinkgoat @sickness-health-all-that-shit @look-i-love-u @francesrose3 @vintagelacerosette @gardenerian @lynne-monstr @notherenewjersey @mickeygifs @mikhailoisbaby come travel with me 🥰

#tag game Wednesday #Mys stuff #tag games #tag you’re it

[delopsia]

del 💃🍰 i think it’s time that someone asked about rhett, robby, and reader’s honeymoon...

💐👀💐

...you know, I knew someone was gonna yell at me for ending the post like that 😭 which is exactly why I did it because I will completely forget to write it otherwise. "It was all tame until the honeymoon rolled along..." post in question.

They're sold on the idea of going somewhere new for their honeymoon, unfamiliar to all three of them. And several weeks of research and a weeding later, they find themselves packed up on a plane, looking down at the ocean, on the way to their destination.

Rhett's adorable. He's never done something like this before, and it's so evident in how he lights up. Look at this weird bird! Oh, oh! The buildings are different. Bobby, Bobby, Bobby, what in the world is that restaurant over there? Can we stop there? Please? He's all over the place and glued to them at the same time. By the time they get into their room, he's plain tuckered himself out. Dead on the bed before they can realize it.

There is no better way to celebrate the end of a long trip than an impromptu nap. It is also the reason why Rhett wakes up first and realizes he's got a major thing for seeing Bob wearing that new ring on his finger.

Waking up to an impromptu blowjob was not on Bobby's itinerary, but alas, who is he to complain? Bucking up into Rhett's drooling mouth, fucking that pretty little throat without a second thought. With the wedding, stresses of planning, and everything in between, antics like these stopped over a month ago. It's the longest they've gone without intimacy since they moved in together, and it's accidentally the catalyst to...well.

Think of it as a dam bursting.

One moment, everything is calm. Then Reader is waking up and Rhett's being hauled between their legs by his hair, and he's rutting his pale hips against the sheets, and it all goes downhill from there.

They can't keep their hands off of each other. The Reader rides Bob before dinner and Rhett afterward. Then turns around and falls on their knees next to their cowboy, kissing and sucking at the sides of Bobby's flushed cock until he can't take it anymore.

Bob pins Rhett against the edge of the bathtub and fucks his cute little ass until he's limping afterward. Then wakes him up the next morning by riding him. Of course, that ride happened after he sweetly ate the Reader out until they were pushing his head out from between their legs.

They have to leave the beach early because Rhett swings his leg over the Reader's hips and whispers that he wants to ride their strap-on when they get back.

Bob finds himself on his knees, choking on Rhett's cock because they couldn't keep off each other while the Reader was getting ready. And how are they supposed to leave their beloved s/o out when they stumble upon the sight of Rhett cumming on Bob's flushed face?

And then Rhett's at the pool in those annoying short shorts, and his lovers can barely keep themselves from grabbing handfuls of his ass in public.

They do get some things done; they (somehow) manage to try all of the fun restaurants they spotted, including an evening harbor cruise that reminds them all of why they don't take Rhett on boats. He doesn't get sick, fortunately, but he damn near turns green. Spent time watching the sunset on the shore, in which Rhett and Bob got into it with a crab.

"It bit me!"

"No, it pinched you. It doesn't hurt that—ow!"

They venture off alone and return with presents for each other; somehow, the Reader finds a light-up cowboy hat, and of course, they had to see if it'll stay on his head while riding. It did until he got rolled over onto his back...

Went on a short hike and found a cute little waterfall to relax at; Rhett refused to go in the water, Reader and Bobby splashed him so many times that he looked like he hopped in head first. Booked an afternoon riding horseback and got to laugh at Bob struggling to remember how to ride. Rhett still hasn't let him forget about how he almost fell off.

Bobby gets a little sick on day five and spends most of it snuggling on someone's chest, running the slightest fever, his pale face a few shades whiter. And Rhett's just plain homesick, burying himself into Bob's side and not too keen on moving. That's where it all slows down, for the most part. Limiting the remainder of their days to a few adventures at a time for the sake of Bob's energy, entertaining the familiar things to ease Rhett's stress, and spending their time lounging. Plum lazy, as Rhett calls it.

It's quite funny, actually. Rhett and Bob were about the same skin tone when they arrived, but when they board the plane home, Rhett's noticeably tanned, and Bobby is...lightly roasted. Not necessarily sunburnt, but he's got a redness to his cheeks that lingers for a few days. The freckles on his cheeks have been hidden for years, but in the light of their bathroom, the Reader starts to realize they're resurfacing.

Rhett and the Reader have to kiss every single one, from his cheeks to the ones running down his back, don't they?

#rhett abbott #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #delgato's asks #💐 #milesmillergf

[foreverrandomwritings]

OMG congratulations!! I'll try to contain myself but be prepared for a few of these at least!

starting strong, skinny dipping even though it's much too cold w/ my love Phoenix

What's In The Honeymoon?- Part 5/5

Summary: This is my last installment in my short series "What's in the Envelope/Box/Plane/Vows?". This can be read as a stand alone however. I think it's fitting that @sylviebell was the one to give me the idea for the first part of the series as well as the last.

ALSO HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY SYLVIE💜

Thank you for being such an absolutely radical person and my favorite fellow Phoenix girlie💜

Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, alcohol, smut, MINORS DNI 18+, one swear word, public nudity and that's it.

Word count: 1940

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist Series Masterlist

Landing in Porto was a huge relief. You had never taken such a long flight before. Your Wife had reassured you throughout the whole thing that she was going to be right there the whole time. She limited her bathroom breaks to make sure she was with you as much as possible to soothe your anxieties. She told you about how exciting it would be once you landed and got to start your fiveish day-long honeymoon.

You had both gone back and forth over where you wanted the honeymoon to take place until you decided on the slow paced city of Portugal. Natasha had found an airbnb overlooking the beach. The sites you had checked told you of the beautiful beach, the amazing culture and tasteful wineries. 

You hadn’t had a problem getting to your residency for the week. The cab ride over was spent staring out the windows. Occasionally one of you would mention something you saw and might like to do. Natasha made a list on her phone so you could go and look back at it later on. The both of you took the night to enjoy dinner at a beautiful restaurant before walking along the beach. 

As the night got colder you convinced your wife to get back to the airbnb. She was quick to agree when you told her what you were wearing under your clothes. She all but dragged you down the beach as your laughter filled the night air. She never failed to make you feel amazing. 

The first full day there was spent going out shopping to grab some souvenirs for yourselves and all the people back home. Then you went to a local market for food for the week. A winery made its way into your plans as you passed it. Noting it in the list to go back later after taking your food back. You spent hours at the beach before finally heading to the winery for dinner and a tasting. 

You enjoyed the night spent listening to the live band sipping on the different wines. Natasha had convinced you to dance with her at some point. You both swirled and twirled across the makeshift dance floor with the other couples both young and old. As a slow song came on she wrapped you in her arms and hummed along to the melody. You would never get sick of the feeling of being so close to her.

The next morning you were awoken to the smell of breakfast and coffee. You got up pulling on a shirt from the floor before padding out to the kitchen. You saw your wife standing at the stove flipping a piece of french toast in a pan before moving to cut up some fruit. You wrapped your arms around her middle resting your head against her shirt covered back. You both hummed at the contact with one another. 

Breakfast went quickly as you had barely been able to keep your hands off of her. She had moaned as you swiped your thumb across the corner of her lip gathering some whipped cream that had missed her mouth. You sucked your thumb into your own mouth licking the cream off of it. Your eyes remained on hers at the action and she was quickly throwing you over her shoulder and taking you to bed. She grabbed the can of whipped cream and bowl of strawberries that were sitting on the table as she went. 

“We’re gonna have some fun.” she said as she gently placed you on the bed. Your eyes lit up as you spotted the food in her hand. She tugged your shirt off your body before requesting you to lay down. Then she got to work dragging a berry across your skin and lapping up the sticky juices with her tongue. She had you writhing beneath her as she circled your nipples with the fruit. The cold sensation making your nipples harden even more than they already were. As the teasing continued you begged her to touch you. She replied by popping a berry into your mouth. You chewed it slowly as you saw her leaving a line of whipped cream from in between your breasts down towards your cunt stopping right before it. 

You shuddered as she licked from the bottom of the line up towards your breasts. You connected your lips to hers the flavors of strawberry and whipped cream clashing together as your tongues fought for dominance. Her’s won as it usually did. You slipped your hands under her shirt grasping at her breasts kneading them in your palms. She ground her hips down at the action moaning into your mouth. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” you begged her as you pulled back for air. 

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” she asked you teasingly as she ran a finger between your breasts. 

“Please, sweetheart. I really want to taste you.” you begged her again as the thought of her slick on your tongue blurred your mind. She seemed satisfied with that because she was working her way up your body before she was hovering above your face. You pulled her down brushing your nose across her clit briefly. 

Then you were devouring her. You lapped at her hungrily, desperate to pull an orgasm from her. Your legs were clenching together tightly looking for friction. She moaned loudly and slipped her fingers into your hair. She started rocking her hips against your face languidly as her orgasm quickly approached her. She had never been with anyone before that could get her to the edge so quickly. 

“You’re taking such good care of me. My beautiful, devoted Wife.” the praise had you moaning into her cunt, your cunt dripping onto the sheets below you. She clenched around your tongue as it harshly darted inside her. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair came up to toy with her nipple as she teetered on the presipe of ecstasy. Her head was thrown back as her orgasm waved through her. She slowed her hips until they were completely still. She climbed off you carefully, a groaning leaving her chest as she saw the evidence of her climax coating your face. You gave her a pleased grin as you licked your lips. You wanted to taste every last drop of her. 

“My turn.” she said simply before she worked your legs open and ran a finger along your folds. She circled over your clit with that same finger once before she was following it with her tongue. Where your tongue was frenzied and sloppy hers was slow and precise. 

She licked at you calmly, wanting to drag out your orgasm. You were already close and she knew that. One of your biggest turn ons was having her cum as she rode your face. So she knew that you were likely to cum within a couple of minutes. But she wanted to try to prolong it slightly. 

Your left leg came up to rest against her back nudging her impossibly closer to your cunt. You moaned as she lightly sucked your clit between her lips. She was addicted to the way you sounded. 

“Sweetheart.” you breathless moaned into the air, turning your head to try and dig into the pillow. 

She looked up at you from her spot between your legs. She could see your hardened nipples and the way you were struggling to hold back your orgasm. But you knew better than to cum without her permission. She tested you though as she sucked on your clit again. Your other leg came up to squeeze against her head. That was the last sign she needed to know you were right where she wanted you. 

As she gave your leg a squeeze with her hand you came undone. That rubberband of tension snapping as your hands gripped at the sheets and your toes curled. You let out a whine as she continued to lick and suck at your clit. As she pulled back she took in the sight of you laying on the bed. The image was something she wanted to ingrain in her mind for eternity. The rest of the day was spent giving each other countless orgasms until neither of you could move much. 

Thursday was your only pre planned day there. Going out on a boat to look for whales and dolphins and such. You had at one point stopped to participate in scuba diving. You took in the sight of life under the water. You spent the night indoors eating pasta that you had made for dinner, drinking a couple of glasses of wine. Before the night ended in your tangled up bodies in the sheets once again. The bliss of being newlyweds was all consuming.

Friday was your last full day there and you had decided to make the most of it. You spent your time crossing off things from your list. Sightseeing a few local places, eating at restaurants that caught your eye, going shopping along the vendor strip. You stopped and danced here and there when there was someone playing an instrument in the streets. As the sun began to set on the water you found yourselves sitting in the sand. 

The night had started to become cold and you were close to asking Natasha to go back to the house until she abruptly stood up. You looked at her questioningly. The look she had in her eyes was one of mischief and you knew nothing good was to come of it. 

“What do you want to do?” you asked her accusingly. 

“I want to go swimming.” She said with a toothy grin.

“Nat we don’t even have our swimsuits on or any towels.” You said as you shook your head. 

“Let's go skinny dipping.” You could hear the excitement in her voice. You groaned at the idea of getting out of your sweater and jeans to slip into the cold water.

“No fucking way am I getting into that water right now. It’s way too cold out.” You told her sternly. 

“Please baby girl. I promise we can get out if it gets too cold. Plus there’s no one around right now so this is the perfect time.” glancing around the beach you saw that she was right. There wasn’t a person in sight. 

“Fine.” you said as you stood up and started stripping your clothes off. She did the same as she squealed in excitement. 

Then you were running into the water, not wanting anyone to see you naked. You wrapped your arms around your wife as you both went neck deep into the water. Your naked bodies slid against each other as the cold water chilled your form. But Natasha looked happy so you dealt with it. You decided to stare up at the sky taking in the stars and the moon.

“Are you ready to get out baby girl?” Natasha’s voice cut through the silence of the night. You hadn’t realized your teeth were slightly chattering until she spoke. 

“Yes please.” you told her and she was holding your hand leading you back to shore. The both of you got dressed quickly before slowly walking back to the house hand in hand. As you laid in bed that night freshly showered you thought about the future you had to look forward to with the brunette laid beside you. Even though you were sad for your time in the country to be brought to a close you couldn’t wait to get back home and make a lifetime of memories with her.

A/N: A litte bittersweet to see the end of baby girl and sweetheart. But so happy to have finished this series, mark off something from my hundred celly and complete my first full week of posting something everyday for my pride month celly. Thank you so much @sylviebell for this ask and all the support you give me!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @eternallyvenus

#natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace x reader #phoenix x reader #top gun maverick imagine #natasha phoenix trace series #natasha trace series #natasha trace oneshot #natasha phoenix trace oneshot #natasha trace imagines #natasha phoenix trace smut #phoenix smut #smut #m's hundred celly #m's pride month celebration

[erin-bo-berin]

Got another request if you don't mind:) I just love your writing so much I've been reading it alot since I'm in quarantine for the next week so I need some more lol

This takes place in season 3 when Robin and Steve get drugged but...in stead of it being Steve it's the reader and Robin who get drugged. Steve and Eddie(I know he wasn't in there but I just love him and in my head he's making this super funny I feel like he would egg them on a ) have to deal with them acting a fool and they are just driving them crazy. The reader is saying off the wall things about Steve their sexlife and telling secrets Well after everything wears off and they get home the reader is feeling sick and just horrible so Steve takes care of her and is just so sweet and loving and they end up laughing about some of the things her and Robin said while drugged.

Oh no, I hope you get to feeling better soon!

But man that would be HILARIOUS 🤣

No Filter

Steve Harrington x Reader

“What the hell is wrong with them?” Eddie huffed, looking towards the back of the golf cart like machine that Steve was currently carting them in, down the long stretch of the Russian underground lair.

You and Robin were cackling, arguing about which was better peanut butter and jelly with the crust or without it.

“But, but,” you sputtered, “Eating crust is like eating cardboard!”

You two broke into laughter again, being tossed every which way by Steve’s erratic driving.

“Can this boat slow down some?” Robin yelled, holding on, “I get sea sick!”

“We’re not on a boat, silly,” you slurred, trying to slap at her knee but missing it by a mile, “We’re on a plane, duh. Look at those clouds!”

You pointed to the blurry, white things passing in your vision.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them,” Steve gritted out, managing the vehicle through an opening where they all could escape, “We just need to get them to the car.”

“Jesus, it’s like they took everything I carry in my stash at once.”

Robin was singing at the top of her lungs, badly and you were holding your sides laughing so hard.

“I’m peeing! I’m peeing!” you squealed, “Steve, Robin made me pee!”

“Come on,” Steve said, “We can get out here. You grab Robin, I’ll take Y/N.”

Eddie picked up Robin, carrying her as if he was walking her over the threshold.

“My hero!” Robin shouted.

“Come on, Y/N,” Steve groaned, trying to coax you out of the back.

Of course, now was when you thought it was appropriate in your drug riddled mind to play hard to get.

“Buy me dinner first pretty boy,” you giggled.

Steve sighed, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. He and Robin were still in their Scoops Ahoy outfits and even in your compromised state, you took a moment to appreciate his ass.

“Steeeeve,” you slurred, “Have I ever told you what a nice ass you have?”

“Many times,” he sighed, keeping his grip on you a little rougher than he should’ve, but in his defense, you were being a wiggle worm.

“Ow, babe,” you whined, “You’re never this rough in bed.”

Eddie coughed, trying to hold back his laugh. Robin, on the other hand, cackled.

“Is he vanilla?!” Robin called from Eddie’s arms.

You waved a dismissive hand in the air even though Robin couldn’t see it.

“Definitely not. He’s fucking skilled though, I tell you. The things he can do with his tongue alone!”

You’d reached the car now and Steve sat you down against the side of the car, one hand out to steady you as he unlocked the car. Eddie was full on busting a gut.

“Y/N, please be quiet,” Steve uttered, cheeks flaming.

“Please, don’t. I wanna hear,” Eddie chortled as he helped Robin in the backseat.

“He loves being ridden,” you lunge yourself to the front of the seats, peering at Eddie in the passengers seat, “And believe me when I say I ride him like a cowgirl.”

“Yee-haw!” Robin hollers, sending you both into a fit of giggles again.

“Not. A. Word,” Steve grumbled, throwing a glare in Eddie’s direction.

“But about his tongue-” you start in again.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” Steve groaned, peering at you through the rearview mirror, as he pulled out of the mall parking lot.

“Aw, is my baby sad? Don’t worry, a blow job will fix that.”

“Do you want to trade places?” Eddie asked, lips twitching from suppressed laughter.

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Steve huffed.

“He moans like a little bitch though. Have I mentioned he’s got a monster dick? Like how the hell do I fit that in my mouth let alone my-”

“Okay! Music it is!” Eddie exclaimed, turning on the radio, glancing at Steve, “Sorry dude, but that was becoming too X-rated even for my ears.”

“Oh she’s not living this down, that’s for sure,” Steve mumbled.

You and Robin were now singing loudly to whatever was on the radio—in fact, you don’t even think you’re singing the same song that’s on the radio, but hey, who cares?

“Okay, now they’re getting annoying,” Eddie lamented.

Steve agreed.

“I think it’s way past time to get them home.”

•

Robin had went home with Eddie. He’d insisted on staying with her since they still had no idea what you and Robin had been drugged with.

You were glad to know he was sticking with her because if she was on a similar path as you, her head was probably in the toilet right now as well.

You sat back on your knees, flushing the toilet and groaning. Your head was pounding, the white tile of the bathroom floor was too bright and even the cool porcelain of the tub on your back didn’t cool your hot and sweaty skin.

“Think you can keep down a few crackers so you can take some medicine?” Steve asked, walking in.

You groaned, just the act of chewing seeming like too much effort.

“Can I just take the meds?”

He handed you a glass of water and two pills which you gratefully swallowed. He grabbed a washcloth, soaked it under the faucet and set beside you on the floor, dabbing at your face.

“Is everyone okay?” you managed to ask, your head falling onto his shoulder.

“Yeah. Everyone made it out okay. But I think you scarred Eddie for life.”

“What do you mean?” you mumbled, eyes closing.

“Well let’s just say you did a nice oral presentation about our sex life and would’ve offered me a blow job if you hadn’t already been in the back seat.”

Your eyes popped open and you sat up way too fast. You winced, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

“Please tell me you’re joking,” you moaned.

“I wish I was,” he chuckled, “Eddie now knows you liked to ride me like a cowgirl and give me blow jobs. Oh and that I have a talented tongue.”

You groaned again, covering your face with your hands while Steve just laughed harder.

“You know it’s a lot funnier now when you think about it.”

“No it’s not!” you whined, dropping your hands and looking at him exasperatingly.

“Oh I can’t forget my favorite direct quote of yours,” he smirked.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“And I quote: “He moans like a little bitch. Did I mention he has a monster dick? How the hell do I fit that in my mouth, let alone my-””

“STOP!” you cried, ready for the bathroom floor to swallow you whole.

“Ironic, that’s where Eddie managed to interrupt you too before you got any more graphic,” Steve snickered.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Steve,” you groaned, it soon turning into a chuckle as his laughter became more and more contagious.

“No problem, babe. If anything, you have quite the stellar review. Good for a man’s ego,” he teased.

“Please tell me that’s all the crazy shit I said.”

“Oh there’s more.”

“Really?” you squawked.

“Well not about our sex life, but you and Robin were debating which was better, a peanut butter and jelly with or without the crust.”

“Okay, that’s a solid argument,” you laughed.

“Just in case you’re aware, you’re never living this down,” Steve laughed.

You whined, pouting.

“I already feel bad enough. Do you really have to kick me when I’m down?”

“You’re just lucky I love you,” he smiled, kissing your forehead.

“Good because I love you, too.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff

[fierypen37]

The Disappeared Ones: Chapter 6

moodboard by @libradoodle1

Chapter 6

 In his mind’s eye, the world unfurled beneath him like a green carpet, hemmed in with roadways and railways. Not a city—or an ugly artificial light—in sight, only the wind whistling in his ears, buoying the eagle’s wide wings. Then with terrible slowness, he reverted. Naked and human and so very heavy. The wind could not hold him and he fell. The sick sensation of falling, clawing at the empty air as he plummeted toward the unforgiving ground—

Jon surged upright, gasping in terror and confusion. The wind whistled in his ears, he was naked and cold and flying?

“What the fuck?” Jon shouted, his voice raw and aching. Empty sky loomed so far beneath them. Beneath the translucent black light of Balerion’s body.

“Jon? Are you ok?” Dany asked, terror quavering in her voice. Jon flailed, orienting himself astride Balerion behind her. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his heartbeat loud in his ears. Clinging fast to Dany, the panic subsided. One thing was blindingly clear: Dany had saved their asses. All Jon could remember was shifting his arm to a gorilla’s, intent on crushing that asshole’s windpipe. Then—nothing. The Syndicate must have saved something special for him. Even tranq’d, Jon was usually dimly aware of his surroundings. Jon rolled his neck. His body had adapted though. He felt fine. Good, even. Energy thrummed through him—beyond his baseline level excitement of being around Dany or flying.  

“I’m good! We’re fucking flying on a dragon!” Jon said around a hoarse laugh. Jon’s hair whipped in the wind and he nestled closer to Dany. The touch of bare skin startled him—Jon realized she was wearing nothing but her bra and underwear. Fury flashed hot through his veins. Whoever he was, Jon was going to dismember that fucker slowly.

“Are you ok?” Jon whispered in her ear. Dany relaxed back against him. Gods, she was shivering. The air was frigid as this altitude. Jon scooched closer, trying not to look down. Sickening vertigo waited if he looked down through Balerion’s body to the shreds of cloud beneath them.

“I—I f—fine. Shaken, for sure,” she whispered. Rhaegal and Viserion flew with them, gliding on silent wings, gleaming white and green in the sky. Gorgeous beasts. Jon hoped at this altitude, any onlooker would mistake them for a plane.

“Where are we?” Jon asked, mustering his nerve to peer at the ground below. The Syndicate’s headquarters had been somewhere remote. Jon couldn’t see the gleam of city lights for kilometers.

“I’m not sure. I decided to fly north and west. In the opposite direction of Dorne, just in case. So they wouldn’t . . . so they wouldn’t--” Dany’s voice wobbled and broke. Jon wrapped his arms around her middle and held tight.

“Dany, you’re a fucking badass warrior. You saved us. Don’t doubt how fucking amazing you are. I trust you,” he rasped, kissing her hair. I love you. Dany half-twisted, nestling against his chest. Her tears fell cold on his skin.

“Jon, I’m so scared.”

“I am too,” Jon muttered, holding on. They flew in silence for a while, huddled close to share body heat. While their fire was no doubt hot, the dragons’ ghostly forms offered nothing in the way of warmth. Jon scanned the ground below.

“I think I know where we are. There’s the old kingsroad,” Jon said pointing to the squiggly line bisecting the green landscape.

“That means King’s Landing is that way,” Jon said, pointing south and east.

“I know where we can go. But first, let’s land. I need to get you warm.”

 ~

 Jon seemed to be his usual self, even if that scowl-line between his brows was deeper than usual. His eyes were clear and bright, his hands steady, his speech normal. You’d better hurry and decide before his brains start eking out his ears. Jon didn’t look in any imminent danger of brain-leakage. Maybe that evil man was lying. No way to know, though. Balerion had killed him.

Balerion landed gently in a secluded campsite. Jon promised there were no people anywhere nearby. The darkness was complete now that her dragons were safely in her tattoos. Dany shivered in earnest now, deprived of Jon’s body heat, her exhaled breath misting. The cold hung on tenaciously to these spring nights. The moon was a waxing crescent high in the sky. Stars spangled like diamonds across the black. Gods, flying had been an incredible rush!

“Ok, wolf snuggles comin’ right up!” Jon said with a shy grin. Their mutual relative nudity hadn’t been an issue while flying. Now, Dany’s eyes didn’t know where to land. Pale skin gleamed in the moonlight; he was so beautiful.

“Wait!” Dany cried just as Jon was about to shift. He looked confused. “What? Why?”

The story tumbled out in fits and spurts. Their capture, the man and his tattoos, their escape. Jon’s expression slid through a fascinating sequence: anger, regret, rage, uncertainty, awe.

“Gods. ‘Badass warrior’ isn’t strong enough. Warrior goddess is better,” Jon whispered, kissing her knuckles reverently. Dany exhaled a frustrated breath, even as her heart did summersaults at his words.

“You’re missing the point. They shot you up with something. He said it would stop you from shifting. He said it would hurt you.”

Jon gave her a grave nod. He stood and shook himself in that wolfish way.

“I feel fine, Dany. I think the guy was bluffing. If the Syndicate had stuff to neutralize my gift, why didn’t they use it when they tried to capture us? Or when I had run-ins with them before that? I don’t buy it. Let me shift, I’ll prove it to you.”

Dany sighed, raking a hand through her tangled hair. There was only one way to know for sure.

“Ok. Quickly,” she said. Jon nodded, that look of focus sharpening his eyes. The temperature warmed, his silhouette blurred. And a huge white wolf stood in his place. Dany was weak-kneed with relief. He reverted.

“You feel ok?” Dany asked.

“No problems,” he said with a small smile.

“How do you think they found us?”        

Any trace of mirth vanished from his face.

“That’s what worries me. But I don’t Davos’ network had been compromised. If so, why didn’t they take your mom and brother?” Dany remembered the man’s savage parody of a smile, all teeth and malice.

“The man said he was letting them go on purpose. He just wanted me,” she said, shuddering. Jon sat bare-arsed on the grass and patted the spot in front of him. Dany sat cross-legged and leaned back against his warm chest, relishing the press of bare skin. Any arousal was miles away, but the contact was soothing.

“Hmm, I have a hard time swallowing that pill as well. If he wanted to blackmail you to get your dragons—gods forbid—what better way to ensure your compliance than capturing your mom, stepdad and brother? Why just me?” The image Jon conjured ripped fresh wounds in her heart. The thought of Mom or Viz seizing in a chair hurt.

“It was enough,” Dany whispered. She heard the wet sound as Jon swallowed hard. A blush crept up her neck, and she was thankful he couldn’t see her face.

“Thank you, Dany. My queen,” he whispered just as softly. Dany closed her eyes, feeling two more tears eke out. She swiped them away. Gods, words sweet as honey rested on her tongue, ready to fly and offer him her heart and her body for as long as he wanted them. Dany found her equanimity with effort—now wasn’t the time.

“Anyway, if you think the man was lying, how did he find us?” Dany asked briskly. Jon cleared his throat. ,

“I’m not sure. Maybe . . . fuck!” Jon said, surging to his feet. Alarmed, Dany scrambled upright, trying in vain in look into the dark woods around them. Jon was rubbing up and down his arms, face rigid with strain.

“What? What is it? Are you hurt?” Dany asked. He ignored her, intent on his task.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m such a fucking idiot! I didn’t even think!”

“About what?” Dany asked, torn between fury and terror. Jon grabbed her finger and dragged it over the goosepebbled skin of his upper arm. There, under the skin, was small bump, no larger than a pencil eraser.

“A tracker. They must have put one in the dart they tranq’d me with!” The blood drained away from her head until she staggered dizzily on her feet.

“That means our apartment, Mr. Saan’s house--”

Jon gave a grim nod.

“Yeah. They’re compromised. As soon as we get going, I’ll have to call Davos. But first--” Jon shifted his hand to a bear’s paw. The claws gleamed black, each as long as her index finger and wicked sharp. Around her cry of protest, he dug into the flesh of his arm and pulled.

“Gods, Jon!” Dany said, her gorge rising. Looking away, she swallowed bile. Clammy sweat slicked her skin. Through her fingers, she watched him squeeze the wound. With a shout of triumph, he plopped a hard metal thing in her hand—disconcertingly warm from heat of his body. The size of a vitamin pill, Dany could make out circuitry through the dark smear of Jon’s blood.

Warm hands wrapped around Dany’s upper arms. Jon’s eyes grey eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

“It’s ok, Dany. I heal fast. Can the Three check you? Maybe they put something on you while you were out.”

Dany’s skin crawled, thinking of the man’s hands on her while she was unconscious. Jon chafed her upper arms, murmuring comforting words.

“I’ll—I’ll try,” she said, reaching for the Three with a whisper of thought. They unfurled their wings, gliding up and down her body with a prickle of warmth. Balerion curled his long tail around the center of her back, just to the left of her spine. Her stomach dropped. Jon would have to cut it out. Jon drew her down to her knees on the grass, angling her close to his chest. Dany took in a deep breath, smelling the astringent tang of crushed grass and the warm, musky smell of Jon’s skin. The bear claw disappeared behind her shoulder, aiming for the spot.

“Ok baby. Hold onto me. It’ll be quick.” The claw bit in and pain shrieked through her nerves. A scream hissed through Dany’s clenched teeth, tears spilled down her cheeks. From the pain, and a blessed release of pent-up stress. On instinct, she parted her lips and bit down on the meat of Jon’s brawny shoulder, hard enough to break the skin. Blood for blood. The connection shuddered between them, a straining knot of tension. Breath shuddered out of Jon, a fine shiver racing through him.

“Got it,” he said. Blood pulsed sluggishly from the wound in her back, the Three curled around it, using their strength to close the skin. Jon tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, thumbing away the tear tracks. Those grey eyes shone like a stormy sky.  

“Now no more arguing. Wolf-snuggles,” Jon said with a wry curl of his mouth, then shifted again. Wolf-Jon stretched out on the uneven ground and thumped his fluffy tail. Dany shifted cross-legged, leaning gingerly against his side. The plush texture of his fur felt luxurious against her skin. And so warm. Dany sank her hands wrist-deep into the thick fur at Wolf-Jon’s ruff, crawling her toes under the warm weight of his tail.

“That’s nice,” Dany whispered, huddled in the curved semi-circle of his body.

Dany must have dozed, for a shift in movement made her start. Jon rose to a seated position behind her.

“C’mon, baby. We need to get going,” Jon whispered, kissing her hair. Dany nodded muzzily, staggering upright.

“If we are where I think we are, there’s a place not far off. Forty-six kilometers—give or take—up toward the coast. Davos has a house up there. One of the stops for people coming south. A hot shower, food, and a bed waiting for us,” Jon said.

“Can you run that far?” Dany asked, with a concerned frown. Jon gave her his half-smile, half-grimace.

“I’ll manage. Let me be the one to help us now.”

Jon shifted to the horse and she swung astride. The warmth and strength of him was so immediate beneath her bare legs, and she was heartened by his strength. Dany buried her cold hands in his mane.

“Ok, let’s go,” she said, tightening her legs snugly around his sides.

Forty-six kilometers.

A grueling marathon on a good day. But today, after their hellish capture, the Three punching through layers of concrete and plaster to reach the sky, the adrenaline and then the heavy grey fatigue that followed, not to mention cutting out the trackers, had Dany nodding on Horse-Jon’s back. A long night of cold and hunger and looking over her shoulder. At first, she shivered, teeth chattering loud in her skull. As the hours wore on, cold numbness stole over her and she forgot what it was like to be warm. Monotony filled her senses. Jon cantered beneath her with a long, powerful stride, then walked to rest. White foam soaked his beautiful coat. Had Dany been the one in control, she never would have pushed her mount this hard.

Dawn broke over the horizon. A glorious conflagration of gold and pink. The sun blessedly warm on her back. It felt like a blessing. It felt like hope. Horse-Jon plodded on past a wooden sign reading ‘Seagard.’ A tiny town on the coast. The sharp smell of the sea filled her nose. Davos’ house was a red-timbered A-frame on the outskirts of town. Dany’s strength was slipping through her fingers, she listed sideways on Horse-Jon’s back. She braced herself for the hard crunch of the ground—Jon’s corded arms caught her. Jon sucked in deep breaths, his face grey with exhaustion, his skin gleaming with sweat—the two of them leaned heavily against the other and staggered like the ice zombies from the stories the last few steps to door.

Jon found the hide-a-key in a false rock and unlocked the door. The air within was maybe a hair warmer than outside—Jon cranked on the furnace to alleviate the chill. It coughed to life with a reluctant rattle. Exhaustion permeated her flogged brain and the impression of the house was lost on her, save for the dry, stale air.

“I’ll get the phone,” Jon said, riffling through the pantry until he found a burner phone in its plastic packaging. He tore it open and tossed it to her.

“I’ll call Mom, then you call Davos,” Dany said. Jon nodded, puttering around in the kitchen. With shaky fingers, she dialed. The phone rang once.

“Dany? Is that you, honey?” her mom’s voice, sharp with worry, broke through the ice zombie numbness. A knot in her throat choked her. She swallowed once, twice, before she could dislodge it.

“It’s me, Mom,” she said wetly.  

“Thank the gods! When we couldn’t find you, I was frantic! Are you ok? Is Jon with you?” she asked. Dany watched the bunch of his strong shoulders as he reached for a cup off the upper shelf, muttering to himself.

“Yes. I’m ok. Jon’s with me. We’re ok.” Quickly, she relayed their capture, escape, the trackers, and the long journey. To her credit, her mother listened intently without interrupting as Vis was wont to do.

“Did you make it south?” Dany said, hedging her words by force of habit.

“Yes. Our . . . friend is quite charming. She and Vis have uh, hit it off,” Mom said, a wry note to her voice. Dany laughed, the sound rusty to her own ears. Vis and Arianne Martell? The mind boggled.

“That’s good. Do you like where you’re staying?” Dany asked.

“Yes, it’s wonderful! Some kind of resort. We’re quite spoiled,’ Mom said. Some inward tension loosened and fell away. They were safe. Davos’ network was safe. Jon looked relieved as well. After clinching promises of future calls and exhortations for rest, Mom ended the call. Jon took the phone and called Davos. Despite the bad news, it was a much less fraught conversation. Apparently, this was not the first time the Syndicate had sniffed too close to Davos’ operation.

“Saan’s a wily old bastard, tell Dany not to worry for him. You two rest up, we’ll talk more later,” Davos’ northern burr instantly set her at ease. Jon ended the call and eyed Dany.      

“Now, bath. We need to get you warm.”

Dany nodded and shuffled where he indicated. Dany cranked the tap of the narrow bath and watched numbly as the water roared. Jon appeared and gave her a steaming coffee mug.

“Sip this,” he said, “the sugar will help.” She obediently sipped. Instant hot chocolate, hastily stirred. Clumps of unincorporated powder floated on the surface, but it was hot and sweet, filling her hollow belly. Dany was reminded of the day they met—gods, was that only two days ago?—Jon’s anxious gallantry in offering her comfort and protection. As stolid and unwavering as the foundation of the earth. In that moment, she knew he loved him. Intensely. Desperately.

Heedless of her revelation, Jon adjusted the tap.

“Warm is better to start,” he murmured. Dany downed half of the cocoa and gave it to Jon. He drained it. Wordless, he flicked on the room heater, gathered towels and soap and shampoo, found clothes for them. Dany peeled off the grubby panties and bra—too tired to feel self-conscious about nudity. Jon’s eyes moved over her with tender appreciation, but not for long. He coughed.

“Davos keeps the house stocked for a family of four. Secondhand clothes, but clean and warm. All kinds of toiletries,” he said, pitching his voice over the roar of the water.

“I’m dead on my feet. And you ran this whole way. How are you . . .” she trailed off, stepping into the tub. Pain shrieked through newly wakened nerves, but soon subsided into grateful relaxation as she thawed. Scrunched up on her knees, there was just enough room for Jon. He gave a bashful shrug.

“I’ve been cold and hungry and tired more than you have. Just used to it, I guess,” he said. Dany hated that.

Jon pulled the plug and added more hot water. Soon a fine mist of fragrant steam filled the room. Time dilated as they each washed, furtively watching each other. The dull yellow light and the rumble of the heater lulled her. She and Jon were the only two left in the world. Plucking up her courage, Dany swung her leg over Jon’s lap, sitting with her breasts offered up. Water-pinked, hair dripping. Water sloshing out of the tub. One part of him was definitely interested in the proceedings, rock-hard against her arse. Jon’s solemn gaze was almost black with arousal, his grip hard on his hips.

“Dany,” he whispered her name like a prayer. Her heart thudded loud in her eardrums, waiting for his verdict. Jon raked pruny fingers through his wild curls.  

“Love, I don’t want our first time to be like this. Half-dead from exhaustion, groping in old bathwater,” he said gently. Warm hands framed her face between them.

“I want to take my time. Keep you there for hours,” he said with a glorious gleam of hunger in his eyes. Dany bit her lip, squirming in his lap. She wanted that too, but . . . but . . .

“Jon,” she whispered, her voice imploring, needy. Gods, she loved him. She wanted him. On her, in her. Now. Jon groaned, taking her mouth in a rough kiss. Humming her approval, Dany threaded her arms around his neck and rocked with a sinuous, water-slick glide on his lap. His cock slid through her folds, teased her clit. Pleasure shimmered and passion bloomed, so sweet she could cry. Dany dismounted abruptly, panting. Tears bubbled up and fell in warm tracks down her cheeks.

Overwrought, exhausted, she melted into the bedroom to towel off and dress.

 ~

 Jon stared at the closed door, torn between arousal and bone-deep exhaustion. For all his swagger to Dany, the truth was Jon had never been this tired. Everything was hazy, dream-like. The warm immediacy of Dany’s weight had been perfect, the sweet kiss of her cunt driving him mad. He didn’t regret letting her down gently, though. He wanted their first time—and his first time ever—to be special. And he was damned sure as soon as Dany took him to her bed, he wouldn’t want to leave it. Maybe ever.

Beyond the door, he could hear her crying and that shred his heart. Jon stood and toweled off. The fleece pajama bottoms were a size too big for him, so he rolled the waistband, but the waffle-knit Henley was perfect. Jon’s nostrils twitched at the acrid scent of the furnace kicking on, but was grateful for the warmth. When Jon tiptoed out, Dany was curled in a ball on the right side of the bed. Jon stretched out behind her, feeling his muscles uncurl. At last warm. At last comfortable. Sleep took him before he could form another thought.

The mattress moving woke him. Jon cracked open one bleary eyelid to find Dany poised mid-movement easing back into bed. He sniffed. Something heavenly was cooking. His stomach gave an embarrassingly loud gurgle.

“Dany?” his voice cracked. Jon scrubbed his face with his hands. The light outside was greyish, near dawn maybe? Gods, had they slept the clock ‘round?

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just checking the casserole,” Dany said softly. A big dopey smile stretched his lips.

“Casserole? You really are a goddess. I could eat an elephant,” Jon said, rising up on one elbow. Davos took stocking his wayhouses seriously. Clothes, toiletries, burner phones and Marya’s frozen casseroles. At least half a dozen of them, with other shelf-stable things besides. Jon’s mouth filled with saliva and he swallowed thickly. Dany giggled.  

“Did you sleep? How long have you been up?” he asked. A part of him was disappointed. He loved sleep-tousled and slightly grumpy Just-Woke-Up-Dany. Not that this version wasn’t delectable in her fleece pajamas and waterfall of loose silver hair, face flushed and eyes bright from rest.

“I slept like the dead. I just woke up about twenty minutes ago. I figured you’d be hungry,” she said. Jon jumped up and stretched, every vertebra popping as he did so. He shook himself and grinned at Dany.

“Let’s eat!”

The casserole was a breakfast variety. Sausage, cheese, onion, mushrooms, egg, and little bits of bread all mixed together in a gooey, savory mess. Jon sawed through a thick wedge. The first bite was perfectly hot. Jon groaned, tucking in with embarrassing relish. Dany followed suit at a more respectable pace.

“Gods, I could kiss Marya. This is delicious!” Dany said.

Jon grunted in agreement, only slowing his pace to gulp down half a gallon of sports drink. For the electrolytes, Dany had said. It was much too sweet, but he endured it for Dany’s sake. There was little he wouldn’t do for her. His heart fluttered in his chest at the homey peace of eating a meal with Dany. He imagined a little house somewhere remote with the sun streaming in through windows, Dany curled on the couch reading a book. The smile she gave him—full of years of love. Maybe with a ring of her finger. Maybe with a full pregnant belly. The thought of that future was so beautiful it hurt. Maybe it was best to make his intentions absolutely clear. Jon laid down his fork beside his cleaned plate, belched softly and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

“I love you,” Jon said. Dany flinched as if he’d shot her. She coughed around a bite of casserole. Jon pounded her back helpfully. She waved him off, sipping her own drink.

“What?” she said, violet eyes wide and startled.

“I love you,” he repeated doggedly. Jon suddenly hated the space between them and knelt by her chair, holding her hand between both of his.

“It’s true. Sorry I couldn’t say it . . . nicer. I’m not a bleedin’ poet,” Jon said, horror opening like a cesspit beneath his feet. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if his words shattered whatever sweetness lay between them?

“You’re brave and tough and sweet and sexy and . . . I want to follow you wherever you go and paint a house your favorite color and sing silly songs with you and make pancakes for dinner and make love with you every night. I--” anything else he was going to say was stoppered by her kiss. He tasted the salt of her tears and her own sweetness. In the trembling touch of her lips, the question he asked was answered.

“I love you too,” Dany whispered, and it was like the sun was rising his chest. Joy. Love. Awe. Fear. He had something to lose now. Something too precious for words.

#jonerys fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #jon snow #mutant!Jon #mutant!Dany #young love #disppeared ones #FP37fics

[heard-nsfw-is-back]

Pretty please I’m on my KNEE’S for more of your Captain Price nsfw HC 🥺🥺

Oh hell yea!! I hope you enjoy and if you want any more requests I'm happy to do it!💙💙

He loves loves eating out but he's worried about his beard and mustache giving rug burn so he'll carefully and gently rub lube around your sex so he can spend hours enjoying your taste and smell. The eating is amazing but it's the way he'll murmur praise so easily while he preps you. He's so sweet and kind and the feeling of him rubbing your thighs and vulva is soothing and such a major turn on.

He smokes a LOT that man is not healthy but he's careful to change his clothes when you bring it up so he never smells like ash and smoke. Instead he'll find out your favorite smell and wear it as cologne. You'll ride his thigh and wear a hoodie of his and it'll drive him wild.

This man is a Hat Efficianado^tm. He has about 40 hats at almost all times. You'll wear some sexy lingerie and wear his hat and he'll just press your hips to his. "The next time you wear this hat you'd better be wearing these panties love." And you do. Every single time. Each hat has a matching pair of panties and he has to work over time to concentrate on anything but what he knows your ass looks like under your uniform.

One week you were going through it. You had a shitty mission that you Barely got through. Your team staggered back to base exhausted. You tried to finish paperwork but the printer jammed so you had to make your copy by hand. He knocked on your door and looked almost gleeful. "Have a surprise for my favorite girl." You looked at him and just sighed. "Could do with a laugh." He chuckled and locked your door before pulling his pants down. He had shaved his public hair in to a really shitty hat design. You nearly cried from laughter.

This man has an incredible breeding kink. You had teased him once on the plane ride back to base. "The only way you'll beat my kill count is if I'm too pregnant to go on missions." He had to count to 100 in every single language he knew SEVERAL times to keep it together. The briefing was annoying and all he wanted to do was work on getting you so full of his cum you couldn't twitch without leaking.

He wanted kids. He also wanted you on missions with him whenever you could. You kept him focused. You had his back and he could complete the mission while you kept everyone together and cohesive. It kept him up sometimes. Picturing you at home with one or two tots. Maybe even pregnant still. God working on killing people would be a turn off if you hadn't always been complimenting his shots. "Nice shot babe." Fuck your voice really did things to him.

You sat him down once and told him you would have to consider re-enlisting. You had wanted to take some time. Visit family and friends. Have a real life for a bit. "You know. I kind of want kids. Maybe start a home and family of my own." You hinted, hopefully he would understand your underlying request. "You want babies?" He breathed, trying to keep it together. "Yeah I mean I don't mean to pressure you or anything or make you feel any kind of way and it's totally ok if you don't I just. I don't know I want to try." He stood up slow. "No I want it too. With you I mean." You smiled, cheeky. "Want to get started now?" He picked you up over his shoulder. The next day you needed to put a sick day. You really couldn't walk, legs still wobbly.

Now that he knew you wanted kids every time you fucked he was always going for your sweet spots. "Gonna fill you up baby. Gonna make you full of my cum." Sometimes he would finish and stay inside just to make sure nothing leaked out. You loved the feeling of him, warm and thick and still throbbing inside you. "Gonna make you a daddy." You groaned, voice still shot from screaming his name over and over.

And now he had a daddy kink. "Fuck say that again." He begged biting your neck. "Gonna make you a daddy baby." You pushed your hips back in to his. He was hard maybe 5 seconds flat. Lifting one leg up so he could get a good angle in to you, he went back to fucking you. "I'll be your daddy princess. Gonna breed you like the fucking good girl you are. Fill you up like a cum dump." Degrading you so sweet, fucking you like that, still shaking from your orgasms before, he managed to pull another from you. You could cum for hours like that. And you did. This time he called a sick day in for you.

When you and Price find out you were pregnant, he was over the moon. He picked you up and swung you around. "I'm going to be a daddy." He wept in to your shoulder and held you to him so tight. "You're going to be the best daddy." You corrected, gently running your fingers over his scalp. He looked up a little and grinned. "I'm already the best daddy. Isn't that what you said." You blushed and pushed him off. You weren't exactly lucid at the time, too fucked to think. It's not your fault he rearranged your guts in alphabetical order and came on them.

What you really loved was his attention with aftercare. He would go out of his way to make sure you didn't lift a finger. He would massage your body down with lotion, bring you water and snacks, help you shower if you wanted or ran you a bath. He would whisper prayers and worship in your ears and skin. You were truly spoiled. Anything you requested he made it happen. And if that request was another round or two, who was he to disagree?

#captain john price #cod mw2

[robotslenderman]

Today sucked.

Final report: Driving was way more stressful than anticipated. Tbh I think it was more the car than the UK roads; if I was driving my mother’s car I think I would have been stressed but fine, but that car is like an extension of my own limbs when I’m in it and I wear it like a second skin; I know its quirks, its exact dimensions, what it can do and what it’s capable of and how it moves. I can get it easily into and out of such tight spaces and make quick dashes and tight squeezes when other people balk.

Trying to compensate for the dramatic change of conditions I’m used to by relying on that muscle memory and instincts of how my mum’s car works was failing so that only stressed me out far more.

It was a smart car. This bugged the shit out of me because smart cars don’t respond quickly to sudden acceleration from a stop - the engines turn off when the cars idle, which adds a second of response time. So there were a couple of times where I had space or time to make a dash across traffic, but only if the car responded quickly - so I’d try to go across, the car wouldn’t go, then by the time it started it was too dangerous to go ahead so I’d balk. This happened THREE TIMES at my first right hand turn and I was dangerously inched into traffic from the aborted attempts but visibility was bad and it was too dangerous to really go, but if it kept happening then I’d have REALLY been in danger.

That’s just one example but there were quite a few; trying to make quick defensive merges was another. I’d turn on the windscreen wipers instead and the “WTF?” that ensued was distracting at a time I shouldn’t have been distracted.

Got better towards the end but I’ve never been so fucking stressed out in my life. I was so thrown that my driving instincts were scrambling trying to figure out what still worked and what didn’t. I ended up spending some time overtaking people on the dual carriageway and the repetition of the blinker-mirror-headcheck-merge manoeuvre back and forth grounded me a bit because THAT still worked. When I remembered what side the blinker was on, anyway.

And then I was sick by the time I made it back to the hotel. :/ I think my stomach is super delicate when travelling- when I went to the US I was sick then, too. But my first night I was sick after drinking the London tapwater and eating Maccas chips (hadn’t eaten anything else all arvo so it was one of those, but London tapwater is safe and Maccas is too big to take chances on food poisoning, surely?), and today I’m quite sure it was the pub I stopped at.

I don’t think theres anything wrong with the water/chips/pub food, but it seems like my immune system is just hyper reactive right now. I mean, fuck, my mask got me sick on the plane - my mask scrunched up my nose and I’m sure it irritated it, because I was sneezing and sniffling but an hour after I took the mask off it was gone. Symptoms also died down a bit when I wasn’t constantly adjusting it and did my best to leave it alone. On the way back I’ll wear a different kind of mask.

Feeling better physically but still not great. Have had to cancel some things I’ve really looked forward to. :/ Hoping to get refunds but if not I’m hoping my travel insurance will cover them. One involves driving here in the dark (and I’m not doing that unless I’m at 100%) and the other is very active. Tomorrow, instead, I will sleep in a bit and then explore the town I’m in.

(Some good news: the Wales water tastes much better than London’s. I’m so dehydrated because I was having trouble stomaching even the bottled water so I’m drinking a lot now lol.)

#London 2023

[caroldantops]

OFC LOVE!!! Here’s more gym teacher! Carol (I have many many ideas..)

gym teacher! Carol who goes out of her way to be mean after having sex with you to avoid suspicious from the dean or student

gym teacher! Carol who plans a swim day for school hoping that you’ll wear a small cute bikini so one she’ll have a reason to punish you and two so she can watch your ass jiggle or you boobs bounce while she makes you run instead

gym teacher! Carol who is ecstatic when you wear the bikini she calls you out on it telling you “excuse me l/n we have a dress code…of course someone like you would disobey” causing snickers as she hands you a slip to head to her office

gym teacher! Carol who notices the other girls in bikinis who question why they aren’t in trouble carol just ignores them sending them too the pool for swim training but the truth is they aren’t you? Those other girls aren’t her pet so why should she care.

gym teacher! Carol who enters her office to see you sitting at her desk the chair swiveling around once you hear “tsk tsk tsk” to see carol with her arms crossed and the stupid smirk on her face

gym teacher! Carol who grips your jaw asking why you acted out telling you that your her pet her property and good girls don’t wear small bikinis as she tells you “you must be a whore? Hm tell me are You a little whore”

gym teacher! Carol who slaps your face as you shake your head no she bends down to eye level as if to patronize you while she speaks “what type of good girl fucks her teacher? The same teacher who constantly bully’s you?” Carol says with a dry chuckle watching your eyes dart around in embarrassment

gym teacher! Carol who toss you on her desk kissing your thighs before asking “you want this right” with the nod of yes she gets right into eating you out

gym teacher! Carol who slaps you thighs telling you quiet down or someone will walk in but she refuses to make it easy on you snatching your wrist every time you gag yourself with it

gym teacher! Carol who takes out her phone to record this moment your moan your faces all of it she needs this just as much as you

gym teacher! Carol who stops once your voice is practically gone she looks at your worried face asking what’s wrong and you look over “I have other classes car- I mean Danvers”

gym teacher! Carol who already called you in as sick so nobody would question while carol smirks and explains she makes sure to add on “also you can call me carol, we’ve had sex 3 times already carol laughing as your face goes red

gym teacher! Carol who takes you home with her geeking out to you about planes while you guys watch movies your cuddling in a oversized teeshirt hoping one day carol will let you go down on her…if there’s a next day (THERE IS.)

what if i went INSANE., "what kind of good girl fucks her teacher?" im literally like losing my fuckgingf mind

#c: carol #thirst tag #gym teacher!carol

[chronicbloodynoses]

honestly mbikmb is actually me rn

the drum - i feel such a depressive cycle everyday and im not getting fucked up bc i cant w my situation but if i could i prob would b!

happy news 4 sadness - my ex lied 2 me constantly + my perception of love is actually so fked up after him and i constantly tried 2 change myself and use sexual stuff for him 2 love me (he treated me like shit and then convinced me i wanted too much from him)

sunburned shirts - honestly i see this as a nostalgia where it ends up not being what you remember, he used 2 look at the sun and he thought of it fondly, but it hurt more than he remembered

stoop kid - its me! im stoop kid! ive been so conditioned to my mother's baby-ing and when i try to be independent im not allowed and then i get yelled at for never helping out and im terrified to leave bc shes constantly saying that i'll fail completely on my own! also in my later "growing up" yrs i watched hey arnold LOL

something soon - i feel so strongly abt this song. trying to do things to keep from losing it + cutting off my hopes bcuz i feel incapable, i feel like the only way i'll ever b seen is to cause problems! break shit! my mother talked a whole bunch of shit about my dad so now i'll never ever see him the same despite him never actually doing anything to me! i both fear and hate him and miss him and wish i had a dad!!!!! treating what im going through as the past to keep myself from focusing on my problems so i dont kms!!!! wanting to hurt myself to have some reason to be upset!!!! wanting to express my emotions but never being able to!!!! if i cant feel better soon then im actually gonna lose my shit GENUINELY! i am completely unable to tell my mother anything bc either it has to do w her and she can do no wrong or its my fault how i feel! (fun fact- i got yelled at in eighth grade 4 listening to help let me go danny gonzalez bc of the kidnapping a girl part and my music is "too dark" LOL (she threatened to send me to a mental hospital on the same car ride to school)) this town is freezing cold!!! i need out!!!!!!! im not allowed to do laundry and my mom barely does it and acts like if i literally have no underwear then its the hardest thing in the world and i have to wait til bc shes constantly too tired (girl i just wore my last pair and im NOT wearing the ones with holes in them) wanting to be somethig more and never feeling content. ignoring my problems w content and procrastinating to complete guilt, i want to leave n sneak out (i literally could ive snuck someone in multiple times b4 LOL), if i dont romanticize what im going through i'll ACTUALLY fucking lose it (im already inching toward a breaking point xP) i hate this house!!!! ive grown up in the same butt fuck nowhere town in the same horrible traumatic house!!!!!!! i need!!!!!!!! to escape!!!!!! so bad!!!!!

guys we're halfway through the album LOL

no passion - this song is actually so depressed dancing 4 me but i honestly dont really listen 2 this one much n think abt the lyrics so no comment VERY EXTREMELY sorry for no passion fans i WILL think of u and listne 2 it more

father, flesh in rags - i love/hate this song honestly, like it kinda reminds me of my ex (scoliosis! his relationship w his dad was a big problem of our relationship!) thats all u get it kinda hurts LOL not in a way of missing him but i get really upset thinking abt all the shit i put up w and forgot abt bc of my SEVERE case of rose coloured glasses

strangers - im actually wanting to create are 4 this song LOL anyway this song is less specific 4 me (honestly i burnt out from something soon LOL) but i too am not gonna last much longer! im sofa king sick of it!!!! all of it!!!!!!

lawns - its okay will my dad left too <3

pow - fun fact my great grandpa was a prisoner of war! he was taken while he was in a plane over russia and there he learned the language in his 3 years there n idk if he escaped or was let go but hes honestly such a cool guy like! love him but he died when i was really young so i didnt get much of a relationship w him but if i was a great grandparent i'd be really happy 2 meet my great grand kid so im really happy i got to meet him

open-mouthed boy - i too call god a SHIT and then scamper off

ne way im so obsessed w car seat even if i dont have much to say and im just saying a bunch of nothing burgers i have so much appreciation for everything car seat headrest has done even w the songs i dont like (im looking at you hymn and famous) i know somewhere other people like them n are also so affected by car wseat and its just like wowzerz! love this band sofa king much! cant wait to see them live in june!!!!!

[tayfabe75]

You sing about "American stories burning before me." Do you mean the illusions of what America is? It's about the illusions of what I thought America was before our political landscape took this turn, and that naivete that we used to have about it. And it's also the idea of people who live in America, who just want to live their lives, make a living, have a family, love who they love, and watching those people lose their rights, or watching those people feel not at home in their home. I have that line "I see the high-fives between the bad guys" because not only are some really racist, horrific undertones now becoming overtones in our political climate, but the people who are representing those concepts and that way of looking at the world are celebrating loudly, and it's horrific. You're in this weird place of being a blond, blue-eyed pop star in this era — to the point where until you endorsed some Democratic candidates, right-wingers, and worse, assumed you were on their side. I don't think they do anymore. Yeah, that was jarring, and I didn't hear about that until after it had happened. Because at this point, I, for a very long time, I didn't have the internet on my phone, and my team and my family were really worried about me because I was not in a good place. And there was a lot of stuff that they just dealt with without telling me about it. Which is the only time that's ever happened in my career. I'm always in the pilot seat, trying to fly the plane that is my career in exactly the direction I want to take it. But there was a time when I just had to throw my hands up and say, "Guys, I can't. I can't do this. I need you to just take over for me and I'm just going to disappear." Are you referring to when a white-supremacist site suggested you were on their team? I didn't even see that, but, like, if that happened, that's just disgusting. There's literally nothing worse than white supremacy. It's repulsive. There should be no place for it. Really, I keep trying to learn as much as I can about politics, and it's become something I'm now obsessed with, whereas before, I was living in this sort of political ambivalence, because the person I voted for had always won. We were in such an amazing time when Obama was president because foreign nations respected us. We were so excited to have this dignified person in the White House. My first election was voting for him when he made it into office, and then voting to re-elect him. I think a lot of people are like me, where they just didn't really know that this could happen. But I'm just focused on the 2020 election. I'm really focused on it. I'm really focused on how I can help and not hinder. Because I also don't want it to backfire again, because I do feel that the celebrity involvement with Hillary's campaign was used against her in a lot of ways. You took a lot of heat for not getting involved. Does any part of you regret that you just didn't say "fuck it" and gotten more specific when you said to vote that November? Totally. Yeah, I regret a lot of things all the time. It's like a daily ritual. Were you just convinced that it would backfire? That's literally what it was. Yeah. It's a very powerful thing when you legitimately feel like numbers have proven that pretty much everyone hates you. Like, quantifiably. That's not me being dramatic. And you know that. There were a lot of people in those stadiums. It's true. But that was two years later. . . . I do think, as a party, we need to be more of a team. With Republicans, if you're wearing that red hat, you're one of them. And if we're going to do anything to change what's happening, we need to stick together. We need to stop dissecting why someone's on our side or if they're on our side in the right way or if they phrased it correctly. We need to not have the right kind of Democrat and the wrong kind of Democrat. We need to just be like, "You're a Democrat? Sick. Get in the car. We're going to the mall.

September 18, 2019: Taylor opens up about politics with Rolling Stone. (source)

#year: 2019 #september 2019 #quote: taylor swift #taylor's character #taylors's values #topic: politics #topic: cancellation #song: miss americana & the heartbreak prince #get to know them #source: rolling stone

[peachmuses]

sociieties asked: 5 times tatsuya and makoto hooked up when they shouldn’t have / bad ending.

i. he tried to hook up with makoto in japan / tried; failed. there was just something about the fact that makoto had ruined his career that had made tatsuya look at him differently / something that lit a small fire inside of his stomach and made him want makoto even more. then makoto leaves for america with him / mute, and restless, and tatsuya is a bastard, but he's a selfish bastard. it's shuuzou's fault, anyways, for breaking up with makoto. ( if he wanted him so much / he shouldn't have left him / if he wanted him so much --- ).

makoto crawls into his bed - and it's two am and the only light that comes into his room is the neon light signs from outside and tatsuya looks up at him, half-dazed and half-asleep, and makoto doesn't say anything but he doesn't have too. he doesn't kiss him, but makoto is desperate and tears hit his chest anyways, and tatsuya flips them over, and runs his hands over sides, down to the other's bottom, slipping fingers into pants only to find that makoto isn't wearing any boxers, and tatsuya hums. fingers slip past rim to prep, ( and tatsuya is a bastard, but he is not that much of a bastard to fuck makoto without any sort of prep. ) nails dig into shoulders and tatsuya breathes into the other's shoulders. ( he wonders, if makoto is pretending he's shuuzou / wonders if makoto wishes it was shuuzou touching him instead. tatsuya wishes he was shuuzou. ) makoto is only a fuck -- nothing more. they're not together -- just something for each other to take stress out on. ( makoto is sick, too. tatsuya will probably get sick as well -- as goes his own shitty immune system, but tatsuya doesn't care right now. ) one finger / two fingers / three fingers, until the other is silently opening mouth and pressing closer to him, and tatsuya removes fingers only to replace them with his own condom covered dick. harsh and quick -- because makoto is only a fuck -- nothing more. he's only a body / a body that he wishes was his ex best friend / ex boyfriend / ex -- everything. first love. only love. some one who tatsuya thought would always choose him -- and in the end didn't choose him or makoto. hips lift and hands move to makoto's own and readjusts him, and drives himself deeper in friend's body. ( he'll hate himself later / but tatsuya is selfish. if he can't have shuuzou -- then he'll have who had him last. ) makoto makes a noise -- and tatsuya's pausing in his thrusts to look down at the other, blinking slowly and stupidly / before he's angling himself in the same position only for makoto to whimper and whine, and tatsuya's own lips curl upwards. makoto cums first / and tatsuya's swiping fingers into mess only to shove it into the other's mouth. " suck. " soft, quiet. makoto does, and tatsuya cums shortly afterwards.

ii. tatsuya leaves shortly after that / he's got his own games to play, own things to do, other people that are somewhat important to him. ( not really, but he can pretend all he wants too -- and tatsuya does / he pretends. pretends that it's worth trying to rebuild a career that he no longer really holds any passion for. a part of him -- hates makoto for it. hates him for how he ruined the one thing that tatsuya had -- when makoto had shuuzou. he thinks that space between the two is good -- but the holidays are coming up and all tatsuya can think about is how kazuya use to force shuuzou to accept any type of gift with him and makoto laughing at the two of them. he swallows, and books a plane ticket home -- to where makoto is at and not at all where he wants to go. they're out and about -- walking around and enjoying the lights / he doubts it'll snow. it rarely snows in l.a. anyways, but the lights are pretty and people enjoy the holidays / tatsuya spots an arch with mistletoe hanging and manuevers makoto over that way where he dips to kiss him with a cheeky tradition, only for makoto to laugh; a swirl of pleasure lines his stomach, and they decide to go out to grab some food. tatsuya ends up fucking makoto in a bathroom stall, and both of them pretend they wouldn't rather be somewhere else. tatsuya's hand shifts under makoto's leg, jacking it up, and one hand rests on the other's back as he leans over him; chasing some feeling that doesn't even really mean anything. it's easier to not see makoto's face when they do this. tatsuya bites makoto when the other quietly begs for release. tatsuya likes this - likes seeing makoto unravel in pieces. likes to see him cry more. tatsuya cums with a quiet groan, covered by makoto's sticky skin, and a brief fleeting feeling of concern lingers. a hand comes up to tug makoto's hair, so the other's throat is bared; and tatsuya pauses his own hand movements. " are you sick ? " " wha- what ? " " are you sick ?" " no ? " " hm. " a few flicks of tatsuya's hands, and makoto is releasing into palm, before he's bringing fingers up to lick cum off slowly making eye contact with makoto, before he's tugging condom off, to drop into trash. " fix yourself up. you look flushed. " it turns out makoto was sick, and tatsuya ends up carrying makoto on his back, all the way back to his apartment, as the other's passed out. the fucking bastard.

iii. they're at the mall -- tatsuya, makoto, and one of tatsuya's friends - derek, whose telling him some kind of jokes as they wait on derek's girlfriend to show up. tatsuya's laughing at derek, and makoto jumps on his back and whispers in his ear, and tatsuya's head tilts to the side as he tries to think about what he's done recently for thanks -- that makoto would at the very least know about. ( remembers, how their last fight ended in makoto storming out and going to a friend who tried to fuck him / and makoto had called him in hysterics telling him to come and get him and tatsuya remembers stabbing that friend, quite happily, before he was pulling makoto out of the situation and bringing him home. tatsuya had the other bent over / calling his name repeatedly. tatsuya had recorded it and sent it to him as a fuck you. tatsuya had also passed along his name to some friends, and what happened after that was off of his hands. makoto is thanking him though, and when they get to lunch, tatsuya's hand is under the table, tracing patterns on thigh, before it moves upwards, finger nails trailing over crotch and when he feels erection, he shifts just enough to grab menu with free hand, and pretends he's telling makoto a secret from behind the menu. " if you make a noise, i stop, mako. behave. " finger undoes button, and hand slips inside of pants, so thumb can swirl precum, and slowly stroke the other off. derek is speaking, and tatsuya is leaning in like a cat whose gotten the cream, and makoto is shifting in his seat. he's learned how to touch makoto by now / knows how he prefers to be touched -- and tatsuya likes to tease him / likes to see the fastest way he can get the other off. makoto bites his lip and tatsuya hums, satisfied. he's decided, actually, to not let makoto cum and so when makoto's hips are pushing up into his hands, tatsuya removes them, and pretends to be the perfect picture of innocence. makoto whines, and tatsuya smiles, ever elusive and derek looks between the two of them. tatsuya waves his friends concern off, and luckily kate - his girlfriend is pulling out a chair, to sit. she complains about the weather, and tatsuya, bored with the conversation, goes back to teasing makoto's cock with his hand, but from the outside of the others pants, and when he's bored with that, he stands, and tells derek and kate that he actually has prior arrangements with makoto but they must definitely catch up again, soon, before he's dragging best friend outside and into an alleyway. ( he's lucky that it's dark / but tatsuya doesn't care if it is or it isn't. ) he drops to his knees / and looks up at makoto , tugging pants down, and presses mouth against underwear, where wet spot is, and he hums, before he tugs dick out, and takes it to the base, slow and steady ; until makoto releases into his mouth. tatsuya stands, and kisses makoto, pushing sticky substance into the other's mouth with his own tongue. " swallow. " when makoto does / tatsuya turns him around, and lets his own pants drop the ground, and tatsuya rubs the other's ass, with his own dick, before he's ripping condom open with teeth and putting it on before entering makoto.

iv. they're in a rented car / speeding down the highway without a care; wanting to escape from their lives, and makoto has been teasing him by sucking on a lollipop for hours. he'd finish one, unwrap a second. tatsuya swerves and puts the car in park, before he's pulling makoto onto his lap, and grinds his hips upwards. " makoto, " gruff, and low, " i'm trying to wait until we get to the pool hall before i do anything to you, but you're making it near impossible. " makoto laughs, and grinds downwards, and tatsuya isn't a strong enough man to say no -- not that he wants to say no anyways. hand unfastens belt, and shifts hips to roll shorts down; lifts makoto enough to pull his down as well. car sex isn't great / or easy, but tatsuya makes it work for the two of them. it's messy and quick, and the la heat makes it worse / but tatsuya doesn't care as long as his dick is inside of makoto right now. makoto whines, and gasps / and tatsuya swallows them down because he's greedy and desperate. he cums / and doesn't allow makoto to, before he's pushing the other off of him and back into his seat. " wait. " he tells him / fixing himself, and slipping condom off, uncaring of the mess he's left makoto's ass. he gets back onto the highway / and when makoto goes to touch himself, tatsuya slaps his hand away. " no. " they arrive at the pool house - this specific one is one that tatsuya frequents. it's an hour away from home / but it's tatsuya's favorite. no one knows him here except the owner and tatsuya gets his own little pool room. he brings makoto in, and tells him for every ball that he gets into the hole, that he'll let makoto orgasm. tatsuya takes first position / and he doesn't miss a single ball, so tatsuya grins, and lays makoto out on top of the table, eats his ass, gives him head, and edges him for hours. makoto is a crying, whimpering mess, on top of the table, and he's begging for release and when tatsuya ask if he's been good, makoto says he's been so very good. tatsuya shifts, climbs on top of makoto to sink down on the other's dick, and makoto cums damn near instantly, and he rocks himself back / forth / back / forth, until tatsuya feels his own release coming, and he's climbing up to shove his dick inside of makoto's mouth / face fucking him hard, and the other's tears only add to the sight for when tatsuya finally, finally cums, pulling out, ejaculating onto the other's face. he coos, how pretty makoto looks ruined, snapping a picture of the other / tear stained and cum stained.

v. makoto asks what he's doing and tatsuya brings up the fact that he's texting an old hook up. ( he likes hooking up with makoto / but he's not exclusive with makoto; he's been too exclusive with makoto -- and the best way to stop that is to find another hook up. ) makoto doesn't like it / and they scream at each other. makoto sits on him, and takes his knife, carving makoto's name in tatsuya's chest. tatsuya groans, as knife digs into skin, over and over and his own dick stirs from under makoto / and he rolls hips upwards to meet makoto's that grinds downwards. makoto / makoto / makoto's. hanamiya makoto's. claimed. owned. same fucking shit. he feels chest bloody / and his heart beat and how it accelarates to pump more blood to cover up what he's lost. makoto's name is carved right over his heart, and tatsuya wants to cry in relief. makoto is proud of himself / proud of how knife digs into flesh / blood beads on blade, how he's all but branded tatsuya as his and only his for the world to see. he likes makoto like this / crazy and possessive -- tatsuya too, is crazy and possessive. makoto is crying, tears mixing in with blood on his chest, and tatsuya flips them over to press desperate, hungry kiss into lover's lips, fingers pulling makoto's pj's down; hand curving around his dick, and pumping a few times - but only a few times. tatsuya wants him hard too. other hand moves to grasp knife from lover's hands, and tatsuya climbs on top of him, steadily rocking himself, as fingers dance above collarbone. here. here is the perfect place to put his own name - to brand himself into the other's bones / makes himself as relevant to makoto as makoto is to him. makes it so makoto cannot forget him, as much as he cannot forget makoto. tatsuya / tatsuya / tatsuya's. himuro tatsuya's. claimed. owned. his. the other's chest is bloody from tatsuya's own blood spilling downwards / and makoto's as well. it stands out stark against makoto's skin, and tatsuya leans down, to lick against blood-covered nipple. ( tatsuya is the one with the nipple rings / but he thinks makoto would wear them well. ) tatsuya grinds down on makoto, hand jacking himself off, only to release shortly after he begins to touch himself to see blood mix with cum, and tatsuya whines. he needs to fuck makoto, immediately. he shifts, moves off of him, and pulls the other to him, and fingers smear blood and cum onto his own dick, before he's pulling makoto down on him to base. makoto screams, and tatsuya doesn't stop to make sure the other is okay before he's moving / hips pushing forward / pulling nearly all the way out, before driving himself all the way back in. his own hand moves to makoto's dick, using the same blood/cum combination to stroke the other off, as tatsuya continues his ministrations on makoto's ass, leaning over to sloppily make out with makoto, the other's name on his lips. makoto ends up passing out / and tatsuya continues, chasing after release, until he spills himself inside of makoto, cock staying in place until makoto blearily blinks up at him, when he comes too. tatsuya has marked up makoto since -- bruises littering the other's body / and he's kissing him again, with makoto's name on him / on his lips.

his dick stirs, and tatsuya's head shifts, " don't pass out this time, makoto. you make such pretty noises, " his hips roll, ( he's hard, again ) pushing semen in even further, the noise squelching in the quiet of their nearly shared room. " or i'll just make it to where you can't walk tomorrow and leave you alone to do what you need to do. " hand lifts to trace lips, " do we want that ? " makoto shakes his head, and tatsuya's shoving his fingers into the other's mouth, " tell me what you want, makoto. " the other whines, and tatsuya begins to pull out and makoto starts to cry. " me ? " makoto nods, and tatsuya pushes himself forward again, " good answer, sweetheart. " tatsuya shifts, repeatedly hits the spot that he knows makoto likes, and when makoto releases, tatsuya is cooing praises into the other's ears, " look at you, so pretty for me, so open. doing so good. my good little whore. "

#sociieties #sociieties: makoto #character ⸺ himuro. #verse ⸺ nkru bad ending. #cw: blood play #nsft. #EXTREMELY nsft. #actually lmao. #cw: knife play #read at ur own risk ig

[z3nitsusgf]

Ain't no kinda game to play

anon: “Pleaaaaaaase do more with Uramichi Omota! With all the revealing costumes he wears, there must be someone of the design team that wants to see that man in his full glory. Maybe after one particular shoot, he finds the designer and gives them what they want? GOD HOW CAN A MAN THAT HOT BE SINGLE?????“

note: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST URAMICHI 😩 big n handsome n so hawt I can’t believe he’s not in my bed rn 😞

cw: nsfw, afab fem reader, co-worker relationship, public sex (you guys fuck at work), teasing, degradation, blow job, size kink, Omota makes you suck him off as an apology

2.8k 

“You’re such a whore, so desperate to see me naked like a goddamn pervert, huh?”

If you could answer him, you’d be choking on your words right now.

Your coworker is leering over you, towering above your body and trapping you against his big vanity desk. Hands planted on either side of you, effectively caging you in. You feel the edge dig into your ass as you struggle to move your face from his. You can hear the faint chatter of the crew right outside the door, reminding you that if anyone were to walk in, they’d see the unfortunate position you’ve got yourself into.

The light bulbs that outline the mirror are too bright, shining across the room in harsh white light. And you can see everything, down to the flutter of Uramichi’s long brown lashes and the shadows under his eyes, the sharp contour of his cheekbones, and the way he breathes. He’s so breathtakingly gorgeous it makes you fucking sick-

“You know this is supposed to be a kid's show,” He says, breaking you out of your stupor. You look up at him, his face stagnant with a furrowed brow that speaks volumes and you look away with flushed guilt. He’s too close, you can see his throat move when he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing down the smooth plane of his neck. And he catches your eyes drifting down his form, giving him a once over as you subtly try to move your hips back from his.

Omota grabs your cheeks between his fingers, pushing your mouth together and making your lips pucker out. He squeezes down harshly, the coarse pads roughing over your smooth skin n’ making you squeak. Your hands circling his wrist, “M’ so sorry Omota, it was a joke, between me n’ the crew.” You whimper, small little tears of humiliation pooling along your lash line. And he can’t help the twitch in his pants at the desperate look on your face, how pathetically and hopelessly cute you are.

He wouldn’t normally do this, wouldn’t normally bully someone this much - he doesn’t have the patience nor the energy for it. But you, you’re just too damn adorable to not fucking break.

He knows it’s not a complete lie. It started as a foolish, albeit a little cruel, a joke between you, the designers, and the camera crew. They made a bet to see as to how far you could go with the absurd outfits - and if Uramichi would say anything or not. And since you’re one of the few costume people, you had the pleasure of designing and sewing the costumes for the show. He’s one of the main stars after all. Too fucking bad you went too far. “Promise I didn't mean to-”

“Just a joke huh?” He cuts you off, raising a brow at you with a downturned sneer, it makes a weight drop in your tummy and you feel like you’re being chastised like one of the kids. But you aren’t entirely innocent, you might have gone a little far with a few parts of the pieces. It was hard not to, seeing him put on skin-tight shorts or sleeveless tops. You had to refrain from drooling over him as you took measurements.

Coming in every morning and getting to caress his slim waist as you took out the measuring tape, the surprisingly rippling abs that make you wanna press your palms over them. And you’d choke on your saliva when you could see the fucking bulge in his pants when you’d look at the seam of his inner thighs. Hands itching to smooth your hands down his inner thighs. His muscles rippling underneath his rather lean stature. Seeing the veins trace across his hands and forearms, the shapely calf muscles indicated years of hard training. And you surely didn’t mind the way his ass looked in shorts and tight spandex either.

Though Omota is nothing if not astute, and he caught on instantly. Don’t think he didn’t notice the skimpy borderline indecent costumes that are saved by bizarre patterns and ridiculous accessories. Or the way your thighs clenched every time he flexed his legs or fingers when you take measurements. How your breath hitched when he leans over your form, he saw it all. You little pervert, pretending like you don’t know when all you’ve wanted to do these past 6 months is swallow his cum and let him fuck your face like the pretty whore you are.

“You know what you did today?” He mumbles, and you damn near want to cry at his tone, his fucking disappointed fed-up tone that promises that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. And you’ll admit, this shoot went a little too far, and you might’ve slipped up with showing how much you enjoy watching his body. After the director had yelled cut and Omota made his way into his room with a more than pissed look on his face, you were scurrying after him with the rest of the crew laughing their asses off and your tail tucked between your legs.

Walking in with his pants ‘round his ankles, getting an eye full of his ass in his boxers and his bareback, him kicking the offensive costume halfway across the room as he glared pure daggers at you. And Uramichi is a man who can only take so much, already on the edge - he doesn’t take well to bullying.

Now you’re here, with an unusually calm Uramichi Omota, who’s meant to be pissed off at you for humiliating him on set. His hand practically engulfs half of your entire face, fingertips smushing together your cheeks harshly, his frame pushing you into his pretty oak vanity, his bulge digging into your stomach.

“M’sorry Omota,” you whimper through puckered lips, sheer humiliation searing through your body as you see his hard gaze. He leans in even farther, face inching so so close to yours. Mouth barely brushing against your pushed-out lips. Your thighs are trembling underneath him, and you hate that this is turning you on more than it should. Wetness slicking your panties to the point for uncomfortableness.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He hums, it sounds so mocking when it comes out of his mouth. And he’s tapping minutely on your cheek, staring at the drool that’s begun to pool on your lips. And you’re nodding as hard as you can with his hand on your face, and he leans even closer, breath fanning over your face, “well, I guess that means you gotta make it up to me if you want my forgiveness, huh?”

You whimper, the conviction is clear, and you are hands gripping along the edge of the vanity, and Uramichi noses coldly down your neck. “Yes, I’ll do anything!” You say it so quickly and too pleased that Omota can’t help the small chuckle that escapes him.

“Go on then,” He says, pressing a small kiss to your neck, so light you hardly feel it but it has you buzzing, and your breath hitches as you hurriedly move to push the tight black spandex hugging his legs. Rolling down the fabric down to his knees, feeling his hands cup your shaky fingers as he motions you to lift up his shirt.

The reveal is all too worth it, the smooth expanse of ivory skin and the dips in his toned abdomen that make your mouth water. His curved back and the trailing v-line that you drift lone fingers over. The pecs are big and plump and you want to squeeze them in your palms. His pretty and smooth biceps are trailed in light blue veins. He’s smooth all over, and god his cock-

He’s thick and long, and fucking massive. Bobbing along his navel and not, surprisingly clean-shaven, the girth has your mouth watering and eyes lidding just looking at it. The shaft a pretty pale like his skin and the tip is a flushed hot pink that has you wanting to put him in your mouth, and you will. You stare at his cock that’s hardening between you, the man in front of you stark naked as you’re somehow the one squirming under his glare.

“You’re practically drooling.” He sneers, not at all insecure under your gaze. In fact, Omota knows how good he looks, it’s one of the reasons he works as hard as he does. Looking down at the way you clench up your thighs, and he’s sure you're drenched in your panties by now. Slicked up and dripping and it’s making his cock stiffen and jaw tighten at the thought of fucking your sweet cunt over the vanity.

“You’re just- you’re so pretty.” You mumble, and his eyes widen, the carmine heat pooling on his cheeks at your blatant awe. Feeling himself twitch at the way your hands glide over his skin, smoothing over his chest and brushing against the sensitive pecs, pads brushing over the already hard nipple, and fuck- Omota shudders in pure delight. “Shut up-“ he mumbles but makes no move to stop your smooth ministrations over his body.

Feeling you trail deft fingers down the hard abs and over the carved v-line that sits low on his abdomen. Almost leaning over his chest to suck on the skin and Omota is mumbling out, “You’re such a fuckin’ pervert.”

It’s not full of malice or disgust, it doesn’t even sound like his usual bored monotone voice like he wants it to be, it’s breathless and comes out like he’s never had someone be so close, he probably hasn’t.

And he’s rolling his eyes and ignoring the flushed hot feeling in his ears and moving to grip the back of your neck, he watches how your eyes go glassy and wide, onyx pupils doubling in size. God, you look absolutely desperate, and Omota is scoffing lightly, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be apologizing for being such a shitty coworker?”

Omota steps back, once and then twice. Making room for you and then you’re pushed to your knees. His hand gripping your shoulder, the fucking gargantuan-sized palm spanning almost half your shoulder, his thumb caressing at your collar bone as he pushes you into the floor. You go quickly, knees dropping to the carpet with a low thud and you steady yourself on his hard thighs.

“Well, I guess I better say sorry then.” You hum, you don’t know exactly where to look; the thick corded legs that are trapping you against the vanity, his rippling abs that flutter with each inhale of his breath, his parted mouth that puffs little pants into the air, or- the red cock that’s nearly pressed against your lips and dripping thick shin pre.

Omota drags a hand up the column of your neck, cupping your jaw and coaxing your mouth open for him to see your shimmering pink tongue and soft palate. “Less talking.” He grunts, and bear down on yourself, clit throbbing in your jeans. You loll your tongue out, and Omota uses his other hand to smack the hot red tip onto it. The thick pre sticks to your tastebuds, salty and faintly sweet - he’s better than you expected and you’re humiliated by the flood of slick that soaks your panties and makes you rock against yourself with a muffled whine against the man.

“Heh- you like this a little too much, don’t you?” Omota has a small grin, pretty sharp flashing down at you when you nod enthusiastically and he pushes the flushed throbbing tip past your parted mouth. The stretch already have you puffing your cheeks, and you lap at the underside of his cock till webby strings of spit are pooling down your chin. His cock is wide and thick and snakes down your throat till you feel yourself squirming in resolution because your esophagus is clenching down on him. You whine when he hits the back of your throat, nose pressed against his base. “F-fuck, you take it so good don’tcha, little slut.”

The praise has you keening, it makes you want to keep going even though he’s bulging in your throat and cutting off your air. There’s a hand on the back of your head, keeping you centered and down as you swallow him whole. You make muffled mewls and whines against him, looking up at him with pearly tears starting to form on your lash line, and oh you look so pretty. “Good fuckin’ girl, good little cockslut.” It allows for you to power through a little longer and Omota is hissing through clenched teeth. He intertwines his fingers in your hair and yanks your head back off his cock, long webby gossamer strings of spit connecting your throat to his twitchy wet sensitive cock. And he watches you gulp lungful's of air as shimmery trails of tears make way down your cheeks.

You gasp in the oxygen, looking up through blurry eyes at Omota, and steady yourself on his heavy thighs, fingers digging into the corded muscle as you tremble and try not to cum untouched by him sitting in your fucking throat.

“You good?” He murmurs, and you feel him gently swipe at the tears under your lashes. It makes a warmness pool in your belly, shuddering. You hum, still determined, leaning forward to kiss and suck at the slit that’s pouring milky pre like a faucet. Taking a hand and wrapping it around the thick shaft and pumping it, Omota is panting and gripping your head tighter.

“Yeah, you’re fucking fine.” He grunts out to you and you giggle at the strained moan in his voice, using both palms to swirl and pump his sticky cock as you suction the mushroom head between your flushed lips. You kiss and lick down the base, making it even messier as you kitten lick his balls before Omota is reeling you back, “Alright, alright- get on with it.”

You look up at him through wet shimmery lashes and see that he’s flushed in the face and panting, his tummy twitching with each small movement of yours. “Didn’t know you were so sensitive, Omota.” You smile and the man is shoving your mouth back onto his cock with a less than amused face.

“And I didn’t know you were such a cock-hungry slut.” He muses, hearing your muffled whine that vibrates around his shaft and you’re drooling down his balls, and he’s pushing your head down to the base till you’re flushed with his navel. And this time, Omota sets a brutal pace. He can hear you gag and swallow around his thick length that bullies down your throat, your eyes have rolled back into your pretty little head, poor baby- already gone stupid from him fucking your throat. “S-so fucking good- fuck” Omota is starting to lose it too now, clenching on his teeth and flexing his abs with little mouthfuls of drool pooling in his own mouth, you’re taking him all the way.

It’s wet and messy and you’re drooling everywhere. There are puddles of pre and saliva dripping down your neck and your chin every time Omota’s balls smack against them. And god, your throat is getting so fucking tight, clamping down around his tip and making his head spin. You’re pressing your thighs together like it’ll relive the throbbing in your cunt, but this isn’t about you. Omota groans when his tip hits the back of your throat and you clamp down on him hard, hands coming up to hold his big thighs and mewl around his cock, “Shit, you bitch- gonna fuckin’ come-” He pants lowly, breath all hot and it makes you positively clench around nothing, doubling your efforts.

Omota leans over you, gripping the vanity with one hand while the other presses the back of your head to keep your mouth at the base while his cock pumps cum down your bruised throat and you greedily accept it. “Take it all and I’ll accept your apology.” He babbles, watching how you swallow all of it and it makes him shiver and moan in pure delight. He pulls out slowly, entranced with the shiny milky coating covering his cock and connecting him to your tongue, and Omota is smoothing a cupped hand to your jaw and lifting your teary starstruck face up to look at him, “Let me see,”

And you, so sweet, open your mouth and let him see that you took all his cum and cock, and Omota is smiling down at you. “Very good.” It makes you fucking careen, pressing your cheek into his palm, and he’s swiping at the cum and drool and tears on your face, leaning down to press his lips on yours.

“Do you forgive me now?” You whisper against his mouth, a part of you is disappointed this is over. You’d hoped it’d last longer than it’d did, lashes fluttering as you stare at him and Omota looks at you, a creeping smile makes his way onto his face that makes you shift under him and he’s chuckling. “Baby, this is just your apology for today, you have to make up the past 6 months.”

#have you ever wanted to suck cock so bad you wrote a fic ? #val.writes ❦ #uramichi.⋆✦ #uramichi omota smut #uramichi omota x reader smut #uramichi x reader #uramichi oniisan