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hotchfiles · 6 hours

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— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

he knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. what he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. he had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

“darling? what–what are these?” he asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. you’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. it always worked.

normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

“what’s the only thing i asked of you, aaron?” you don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. he was so tired. “i know, i’m sorry–”

“answer the question, please.”

“don’t make promises i can’t keep.” he takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. that’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. if you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

first months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

he watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

this was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. all the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. just–teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

“we saved two girls today.” low blow. but it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. to save two thirteen year old girls. not some futile reason. it had to count for something.

“i’m proud of you for that, aaron. are you proud of me? for the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” you raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

you always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

“that’s not what i said–”

“i know what you said. you want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. that’s not how it works.” you open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “i want you to leave.”

“you know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” sore spot. you were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. but he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

“how am i a child?” you begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “we had an agreement. you broke it. am i a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

he knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “i said you’re acting like a child. the one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “see? proving my point.”

“how many times do i have to accept you screwing up so i can be seen as mature?” you yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “same times as haley? how many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

lower blow.

hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “i’m not leaving.” you wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

his eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

damn you for choosing wine.

hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

you melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. and you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

a pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

his lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “i love you, so, so much”. his declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “please don’t make me leave after this.” it comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

“just shut up and take your pants off.”

“you know i can only do one of those.” it makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

on the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. he drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

“fuck—oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” it isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

you kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. you enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by aaron’s calloused fingers. you arch your back and moan loudly, “fuck, yes, and move.”

it feels like an order and for hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

“honey, fuck—please…” his begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

“aaron—i’m… fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

the praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

“yeah? like this?” the way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

his movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “yes, fuck—“ you’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

he would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “i can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” his lasts broken words before letting himself go.

you don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

“aaron?”

“yes, sweetheart?”

“you can stay.” he looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “but if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, i’ll chop your dick off.”

“you like it too much to do that.” his grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “see?”

“bite me.”

“gladly.”

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

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lurvly-malice · 3 days

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Listen right here I am sick and TIRED of defending the fact I’ve romanced Shane on most if not all my saves. I’ve tried omfg, I can’t do it. The smelly depressed deadbeat just does smth to me. Whenever he asks me to leave him the fuck alone my toes CURL guys that’s my MAN - HOW DO PEOPLE NOT GET IT? The way he treats his chickens? Girl. make me chicken rn, i can cluck.

Saviour complex? Maybe. But the thing is I don’t even wanna fix him bro I just lurv him he’s such a mess, but same baby boy lemme kiss you. I am a Shane apologist till the day I DIE and I will defend that white boy till the day my bones are dust. I will go on the battlefield for that man, front line, war cries.

#sdv #sdv shane #stardew fandom #stardew #stardew valley #stardew valley shane #rant post #Shane apologist

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sinsirellaxx · 2 days

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The prince of your dreams

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Warning: canon-typical violence.

A/N: Should this be a story/one shot? Would you be interested? Let me know!

PS: I'm currently obsessed with Daemon ... 😤

You had heard tales of dragons – they were told to be majestic but fearful creatures. And everyone who has heard of dragons also knows of the history of the dragon riders.

Just like every other girl, you had dreamed of your prince in shining armor – but instead of a white horse, the prince of your dreams came on dragon back.

A decade later you were taught that the prince on dragon back wouldn’t be your dream prince but the prince of your nightmares – setting your whole world on fire. Screams of panic and grief filled the usually silent night air followed by the sound of destruction. The smell of sulfur and fire woke you from your peaceful slumber, the distant cries of your folk drawing you from the comfort of your warm bed.

You clumsily stumbled out of your bed, almost tripping in your haste to reach the window – you could feel your heart in your throat as you pushed aside the curtains.

Hell – your eyes were met with the sight of a sea of fire – people were running out of their homes and onto the streets, trying to hide from the spreading fire.

Confusion overcame you and left you motionless – it looked like it rained lava.

Frantic knocking on your door pulled you away from your window. Your mother’s panicked voice calling out to you, telling you you had to leave.

Grabbing a silk robe, you threw it around you before rushing out, your mother’s weirdly cold hands grabbing you and pulling you along. You had never seen your mother that distressed before. You wondered why. It was just a fire – right?

You asked your mother why she was so scared, but she didn’t answer, instead she continued running.

Before you could repeat your question, a sudden heat tickled your back, the sound of concrete crumbling followed by the crackling of fire overwhelmed your senses as you forced your head to turn around as much as possible. One half of your home lay in ashes – you would have died if not for your mother. Your eyes widened as the grip on your mother’s hand tightened, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

When you finally made it outside you almost crashed into your neighbors, your home had completely been engulfed in flames by now as you maneuvered through the crowded city. It was complete chaos. When you heard a monstrous screeching sound you stopped in your tracks, turning around to locate the sound.

Your whole body froze, eyes wide as you took in the sight in front of you. A huge beast with wings hovered in front of you, teeth barred and its silhouette casting a shadow over you – swallowing you in complete darkness.

It was a dragon.

Remembering the tales from your childhood your eyes immediately looked for a dragon rider – it had to have one, right?

And sure enough, your eyes spot a knight with blonde-silver hair on the back of the beast – just like the prince of your dreams. But instead of swooping in to save and love you he wreaked havoc over your city, burning everything and everyone without a second thought.

Fire and blood.

#hotd daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #fire and blood #a song of ice and fire

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 2 days

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Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

#jon snow #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #ghost the direwolf #some random extra thoughts:#the aspect of fatherhood is closely tied to kingship as kings are often regarded to be the fathers of their nations #so we might see a parallel where jon-like dany-doesn't have children of his own physical body #but rather rules a kingdom as its symbolic father #think of how odin-a mythical parallel for jon-is called the all father because he is father to all men/lands #also it's interesting to me how kingship is a theme but it's almost like the actual theme is that of kings coming of going #but jon remaining and prevailing above all #we have robert who is a disappointing/bad king and his rule doesn't last very long and neither will his dynasty #jaime looks like a king and even if grrm didn't go through with his original ideas he was never meant to rule for long #in the new story jaime is symbolic of rhaegar a would be king whose time comes and goes leaving jon to pick up the pieces #then tyrion who stands “as tall as a king” but not quite! he still is not as tall as jon and tyrion also says in a later chapter #that soon he'll be even shorter than ghost + tyrion wasn't hand for long #mance who is hidden also has his time as king but it's very short lived and jon later absorbs his kingdom to make his own #so we have the wolf devouring the “left behinds” in a way but the interesting thing is this happens in reverse doesn't it #might Jon's new kingdom not only be made of remnants of the nw and wildlings but also have those left behind from the rest of the 7k?#it's possible since jojen tells us that once night comes all cloaks become black 🙂#so yeah this is all just more jon endgame king of winter/a new north propaganda lmaoooo

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ghostgorlsworld · 3 days

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Johnny Boy (Part 7)

Werewolf! Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Notes--Johnny is showing his true colors so the story is definitely getting a little darker.

You woke up hungover and embarrassed.

You were old enough to know better and a mother for Christ’s sake–by all means too old to be making idiotic decisions that could shake the life you had spent over half a decade building. You could hardly remember what had led up to Johnny doing…the thing that he did, but you were sure you didn’t exactly put up a fight.

Tommy walked Emma back to your house shortly after seven, dressed for work. He pulled the makings of breakfast from the fridge, grumbling some nonsense about two full-grown wolf-soldiers eating him out of house and home. You were trying very hard not to do your walk of shame, refusing to look at the chair or the leftover pizza in the fridge. Emma, of course, was none the wiser, curling up in your lap to nuzzle at your face.

“Did you have fun?” You asked, inspecting her for signs staying up too late.

Emma nodded, beginning a long play-by-play of the previous night’s events, including a humorous addition of her forcing Simon to teach her card games. “We had ice cream after dinner,” she said, whispering it so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “Uncle Tom told me not to tell you.”

Emma couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. You laughed and tickled her sensitive feet.

You couldn’t believe you had been so weak to let Johnny back in again. You couldn’t trust him, no matter what he said about his reasons for disappearing, and adding sex to the equation could only make things even worse.

“Johnny was out late last night,” Tommy said casually, cracking an egg into a pan. “He left after Emma went to bed.”

You couldn’t help but glance at the chair, trying very hard not to remember Johnny’s voice, wrecked and commanding, or his hands, or his tongue-

“I had an early night,” you said. “Charlie called for a raincheck.”

“Mm,” Tom said. “Scrambled?” You nodded, not missing Emma’s curious look. She really was too smart for her own good.

The weekend passed uneventfully–you avoided Johnny by packing up Emma and spending a day in the city, finishing up your Christmas shopping in the shiny shops and taking Emma ice skating in the square. He called you once, but you quickly put Emma on the phone, your stomach aching just at the thought of talking to him.

Emma picked out a pair of red and white striped socks and a box of legos as a gift for her father. She was pleased with her choices, and you tried your very best to smile when she displayed them to you.

Johnny wasn’t even going to be around for Christmas, and that was something you needed to discuss with him. Your little girl couldn’t survive off of no letters or calls–after all, it nearly killed you.

Monday comes with the first real snowfall of the year. You dressed in warm layers, sweaters and soft scarves, Emma’s face pink under the winter jacket you had strapped her in.

Charlie was sitting by your desk at work, two cups of coffee in hand and your favorite pastry in front of your chair. He smiled as you unwound the scarf from your neck, looking appropriately guilty and embarrassed. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, passing you the coffee. “I…it was a dick move. I had a few already and confused the days–I er, I tried to call you in the morning when I had come to my senses but you didn’t answer.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about it completely. You raised a brow at the man. “I took Emma to the city for Christmas shopping. We were busy.” Charlie nodded. “Yeah, of course, it’s the holidays. I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve fucked things up.”

You searched around for anger, or even mild irritation, but it was gone, used up entirely by Johnny. “It’s alright, Charlie, thanks for the coffee.” Charlie smiled again, relieved. You took a seat at your desk and listened to him chatter about drama with Chris and Jan at the copying machine.

You watched his hands. They were good hands–man hands, if you will, pale hair on his knuckles and a silver ring on his thumb. Johnny’s hands were wide and thick with dark hair, his nail beds always worn raw from the shift from stubby human nails to sharp claws.

Why were you comparing? What was wrong with you?

Why couldn’t you just let sleeping dogs lie?

Charlie claimed your attention once more, following you to the carts of books that needed shelves. “I was wondering…I know I’ve acted like a right bastard, but I was thinking I could make it up to you. How does dinner tomorrow sound? I’ll make the food and supply the wine, you just bring yourself.”

You wanted to say no. That meant that you would have to see if Julienne would keep Emma for a few more hours, not to mention your attraction to Charlie had taken a nose-dive when he ditched you the first time. If only your body held all men accountable–your issue with Johnny would be solved overnight.

That was the thing that made you consider it. Johnny. He was your kryptonite, your achilles heel, and you needed to burn his touch off your skin.

“Alright,” you said. “If I can get a sitter for the bear.” “Deal,” Charlie said, grinning. He kissed your cheek gently, mouth warm and chapped.

Johnny texted the next morning, asking if he could take you and Emma out to lunch on your break. He offered to drop her off at Juliene’s house as well, saving you the walk.

You needed to rip the bandaid off. He wasn’t going to stay away forever, and it didn’t matter he had eaten you out while you were very sad and very drunk, you couldn’t keep him away from Emma.

“Em, do you want to see Johnny today?” You asked, hoping against hope she would shake her head.

Instead, your darling girl perked up, ears twitching as she nodded eagerly. The full moon was coming quickly, so her behavior was…off, her eyes growing brighter by the day. Johnny used to refuse to be around you on the week of the full moon. He disappeared from your house and would show back up a few days later, looking exhausted and on edge, twitching if you tried to touch him.

You sighed.

Where should we meet you?

Johnny’s reply was lightning quick. You still like Angelo’s?

Angelo’s was a sandwich shop you used to frequent with Johnny, you hadn’t been in ages. That’s fine.

Johnny texted back something enthusiastic and barely legible.

Julienne had agreed to watch Emma for a couple more hours without irritation, saying she could use the money for a fancy new garden gadget she had been eyeing. You planned on grabbing it for her for Christmas, a token of your appreciation for her help with Emma.

You were going to give Charlie one last chance, if this dinner didn’t pan out you would find some other patsy to take you out every other weekend.

Johnny was going to be gone soon, after all, and Emma is unpredictable with these things. She could take it as easily as she took the death of her grandfather, or it could be…catastrophic.

You eyed your phone, forcing yourself to do the hard thing that neither of you wanted to face.

I was hoping you would talk to Emma about you leaving soon.

There. You said it. You tossed your phone on the bed and finished getting dressed, herding Emma to school before you forced yourself to look at his response.

Of course, hen, we’ll talk about it.

Work went by quickly in your haze of anxiety. What would he say to Emma?

What would he say to you?

You didn’t expect him to be waiting at Emma’s school. He was leaning against his truck, all twinkly blue eyes and a sharp smile that reminded you that he left for you. Because he couldn’t control himself.

Johnny was trying to be good. You see it now, you remembered the way he used to follow you home after school, walking close behind you like he thought someone was going to steal you away. He wouldn’t share food with anyone, not even Tom, but if you asked he would always tear whatever it was in half and put it on your plate.

Johnny and Tom had been playing video games in the living room when you left for your first date. You were sixteen and he had just hit twenty one, and he had looked at poor Dan Hilton like he wanted to rip out his guts and serve them up with eggs.

You had chalked it up to brotherly feelings, or the simple fact that Johnny has never liked to share.

To see it for what it was felt…odd. You had heard about wolves claiming human spouses, putting a bite on their throat like a wedding band and never, ever letting go.

“Hey,” you said tiredly.

Johnny straightened–he wanted a hug, you could see it in the way his hands twitched. “I figured I would give the two of ye a ride, yeah? It’s fuckin’ freezin’ today.” “Alright,” you said, glancing at your phone. The bell should be ringing any minute, and Johnny’s attention would be on Emma and not you. His attention was dangerous, it made you stupid and reckless.

“I heard you’ve got a hot date tonight,” Johnny said, going straight for the jugular.

You stiffened. “That’s none of your business.” “Ach, lass, you wound me.”

“Johnny, the other night…it was a mistake. I was drunk and lonely and you were there.” You didn’t think it was possible to hurt Johnny, but you did. It flashed across his eyes, his jaw tightening into a straight line.

You felt your stomach twist–god you were handling this all wrong-

He took a step, tilting your chin up with the pad of his rough finger. He wanted you to look at him, to watch his pupils swallow up the bright blue of his eyes. “I’m not a good man, kitty. Hell, I’m not even a man, not really. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll repent every fuckin’ day for it, but if you let him touch you, I’ll gut him like a goddamn fish.” “How dare you-” you began, but Johnny gripped your chin then, pressing the tips of his claws into your skin lightly. “You want me,” Johnny said, his gaze hazy and wild as it dropped to your mouth. “Even now. I should bite you right here, make it real fucking simple for you.”

There it was–the wolf that he had hidden from you for so long, the killer wearing the skin of your brother’s best friend. You forced yourself to hold his stare, feeling the sharp prick of his claws on the delicate skin of your throat.

“I want a proper husband, John,” you said softly. “I want a real father for my child, someone who will be there for the birthdays and graduations and holidays. I want someone to sleep beside me every night, someone that doesn’t make me do this alone.”

You knew you were driving a knife right between his ribs–you knew how badly this would hurt him. Johnny had spent his childhood not being right for his mother, not being human enough, gentle enough.

His eyes were so bright and so lost.

“I’ve been alone for six years, John. I don’t ever want Emma to know what that feels like.”

Johnny was silent, his breath coming fast and rough. “I’ll never let another man have you,” he rasped. “You’re mine. Both of you.”

He pressed closer, nuzzling your jaw with a low growl. “I’ll be a good mate, hen, I suppose it’s only right that I prove myself before we have our next pup.”

“No!” You hissed, pushing him away. “Enough, Johnny. You’ll be gone soon and I’ll have to deal with the fallout as per fucking usual.”

Your words weren’t working–they were working him up instead, like Emma when she watched the neighbor’s squirrels chase each other in the trees. His heart thudded like a drum under your palm.

“You’re making a scene, kitty,” he said slyly, tilting his head like he wanted nothing more than to give chase. “Now hush, we’ll talk about this later. Emma shouldn’t see Mum and Dad argue.” You opened your mouth to argue, so furious you could hardly think.

“Mum?” Emma sang, bouncing out of the school. “Oh, Johnny!” She ran to him, the little traitor. Johnny smiled, his sharp edges softening as he swung her up into his arms. “Ach, my girl’s getting heavy,” he teased, nuzzling her face. She mimicked his movements, her smile bright and happy–they were scenting each other.

You looked away. “C’mon you two,” you said, forcing your tone to lighten. “I only have an hour for lunch.”

You barely touch your food, your stomach twisting and turning in furious knots. A sandwich, your old favorite, sits in front of you, courtesy of Johnny.

The audacity of men. You were the one who had spent countless nights bouncing up and down the hallway with Emma in your arms, exhausted and sore, your breasts swollen and aching from her sharp teeth–yet, Johnny was quickly a new favorite. They were the same, after all, the same species, the same aggressive, needy temperament.

Johnny wiped a bit of mustard from Emma’s cheek, humming at her irritated whine. She was close to her shift, and her skin was sensitive. “Dinna fash, baby, it’s the moon,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. “I woke up this morning w’my skin crawling.”

That was another bump in the road. Emma’s shifts had gotten harder and harder over the years, more anger, more pain, and the internet had barely any information about early childhood shifts. Jack hadn’t been concerned, saying Johnny had the same issues at that age–the only difference was that Johnny was a feral little thing that used to sneak out during the full moon and pick off the strays of London. Emma couldn’t bring herself to squash an ant, much less devour a cat or dog–but then Johnny hadn’t had much human influence, at least, not until you and Tommy.

“Emma, tell your Ma that if she doesn’t eat, we’ll have to feed her ourselves,” Johnny said. He was smiling, but his eyes were sharp.

Emma sniffed at your sandwich. “You didn’t have breakfast either, Mum,” she said accusingly. “You always tell me food is good for your brain.”

You cocked an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, kitty,” Johnny said, his tone rougher as if you were one of his soldiers. “You look dead on yer feet.” You took a bite, just to appease them. You could still feel the small, stinging cuts his claws had scraped on your jaw.

#soap x reader #john soap mactavish #cod x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #cod mw3 #soap mactavish

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gender-thief2 · 20 hours

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white girl pop save me….save me white girl pop

#taylor swift #ttpd #speak now taylor’s version

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coochie-sniffer3000 · 2 days

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white girl… save me…. save me white girl

#jeff andonuts #jeff earthbound #earthbound #mother 2 #mother series #sprite edit #animated gif #genderbend

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pluralfuture · 1 day

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Fanfic inspider by @thisbelongsto-nohbodys 's future owlphibia au. Please excuse the fact that I have no idea how Ao3 works, so it's all posted here.

CW: Somewhat-more-than-canon-level violence, blood, minor swearing, and blatant shipping.

Armoured Knightmare

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

When Azura Noceda had met up with her frenemy, Lily Boonchuy, she hadn't expected their day to end up here. It was just supposed to be a normal hang out. But Lily had seemed especially down that day, so Azura figured a short adventure on the Isles would help cheer the blonde girl up.

It hadn't been long into their journey that Azura had noticed a structure she hadn't seen before. It looked old. Really old in fact. It was some sort of stone structure, looking almost like the entrance to an ancient tomb. Azura, of course, wanted to leave well enough alone. Who knew what sorts of traps were down there to kill potential grave robbers? But Lily marched towards it all the same.

“Lily, you're being stupid.” Azura said plainly as she jogged to catch up to her friend. “We have no idea what's down there.” Cotton, her tiny white bat palisman, squeaked in agreement from on top of Azura's head. Lily just gave Azura a look over her shoulder before continuing on.

“Listen, we came out here to adventure, right? What better adventure than an ancient, unopened tomb in a magical world?” Lily drew her sword and jammed the blade in between the two stone doors, and began to push on the sword, using it as an impromptu pry bar.

“The stuff above ground is dangerous enough.” Azura stated. Now that they were closer, she could make out faint carvings on the door. It was hard to make out what they were trying to say, but she could make out some sort of orb with tendrils stretching out, an armoured figure, and a group of witches and demons tearing the armoured figure apart. While she tried to figure out the carvings that were faded more than the others, she was startled by a loud scraping sound.

Lily smiled as she managed to open one of the doors enough to get a hold with her hand. Grabbing hold with both hands, she pulled, grunting in effort as she moved the large stone door. “Listen,” she said once it was open enough for her to slip inside, “I'm going down there. You can follow me, or you can stay up here. Doesn't matter to me either way.”

Before Azura could respond, she saw Lily slip inside the crack. Sighing, she started following after the blonde. “Why are you acting like this?” She muttered, more to herself than to Lily. If the other girl heard her, she didn't respond. All Azura knew was that Lily and her younger brother, Percy, got into some sort of argument, and Percy had said something about how Lily would never be like her moms. From what Azura knew of the younger kid, he had to have been pretty pissed off to say something that mean to his sister. And Azura partially understood why Lily felt the way she did. Her mom saved the Isles from Belos when she was younger than Azura was now, and Lily's moms had done the same for that other world, Amphibia. Both of them were daughters of legends, who had a lot to live up to. But sometimes, it seemed to Azura that Lily was either going to be a hero or die trying.

As the pair trudged deeper and deeper into the tomb, Azura drew a small circle in the air, casting a basic light spell and holding the floating orb in the air above her open palm. All around were mossy stone tiles and carvings covered in various vegetation. The carvings were practically gone, destroyed by the ravages of time. Whatever story - or warning - these carvings told was unable to be gleamed. However, Azura frowned at something else she noticed.

“There's no bodies or coffins.” The witchling noted aloud. Lily simply shrugged.

“So?” The human girl asked.

“A tomb of this size should have at least a few. Or even offerings to the dead or something. But it's just the stonework so far.”

“Well, maybe it's all just further in.”

“Bodies, maybe. But offerings are left near the entrance, so that visitors don't disturb the dead.” Azura pointed out. “And we've gotten far enough in anyways that there really should be bodies.”

Lily sighed. “Well, maybe it's not a tomb then. So, there's just something else to discover down here.”

“That's what worries me.” The witchling sighed and pet Cotton, who was letting out small, nervous squeaks.

The two continued deeper and deeper, the carvings soon giving way to smooth walls. And then, the hallway opened up to a massive stone room, easily a cube 50 feet in all directions. Azura jumped and Lily raised her sword as, when they passed the threshold from the hall to the room, light spells activated all around the room, illuminating it. The entire room was empty, save for some sort of stone throne with a rusted suit of armour slumped in the seat.

Lily sighed and looked around. “All this, for one suit of armour? Seems overkill.” Lily took a step forward, but Azura grabbed her arm tightly. In the witchlings hand, she held a miniature harp, one of her signature instruments for her bard magic.

“Lily, we should go. We can find something else to do. Maybe we can hike up the knee, fight a Slitherbeast or two. But we should leave this alone and tell someone else about it.” Azura's voice was filled with nervousness.

Lily grit her teeth and pulled her arm out of Azura's grip. “What, think I can't handle a dumb suit of armour?”

“Lily, that's not what I-”

“And even if it is magical and animates, it's not like I don't know how to fight!”

“I know that! I'm just saying-”

“What, that you think I don't have what it takes?!” Lily got right up to Azura, gripping her sword tight, knuckles turning white.

“I'm saying I don't want you to get hurt because you're too angry to think straight, you idiot!” Azura snapped. She panted heavily as she and Lily stared each other down. Lily glared hard at Azura.

“Screw. You.” Lily said, and marched towards the armour.

“Lily, wait!” Azura followed after her.

“If you're not going to help, just leave!” Lily yelled back at Azura without looking back.

Azura felt a growing sense of dread as they approached the armour. Something was very wrong, but she couldn't tell what.

Lily got right in front of the armour, staring down at it.

“Happy? It's just a normal set of abandoned armour. Now, please, can we just-” Azura yelled in surprise as Lily swung her sword with a scream, knocking the helmet clean off and sending it clattering to the floor. Azura watched Lily for a moment, the human girl panting heavily. It was only after a moment that Azura realized Lily wasn't panting, but starting to cry. Wordlessly, Azura pulled Lily into a hug. After about a minute, Lily finally spoke.

“I'm sorry.” Lily quietly said. “You're right. This was stupid. I just… What Percy said.”

“I know. I understand. Believe me. I really do. But if you need to blow off steam, there are much better places than old, creepy tombs.”

Lily chuckled dryly. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.” Lily sighed and stepped out of the hug, Azura letting her. She wiped away the last of her tears and sighed. “How about lunch instead?”

“Sure. But you're paying.” Azura said with a playful smirk, earning an equally playful chuckle and punch to the arm from her friend.

“I don't have any snails, dumbass.” Lily let a small smile creep onto her face.

The two of them began to walk out of the room, but the bright mood was quickly broken, both girls freezing in place as the sound of metal scraping along stone behind them. Slowly, and wide-eyed, they turned around. Behind them, the armour was slowly getting up from it's throne, it's joints creaking with untold years of built up rust. From where it had landed on the floor, the helmet was floating up and over to the body. With a dull, hollow clank, it landed back where Lily had knocked it from. The armour rolled it's non-existent neck, pulling a sword from behind the throne and staring down the two young adventurers with empty, hateful eyes.

“Lily?”

“Run?”

“Run!”

The two spun around and started sprinting towards the hallway they had come from. Behind them, they heard the animated armour rapidly approaching. Azura spun around and strummed her harp, creating a magic shockwave that she hoped would cause the armour to stumble. When nothing happened, Azura whistled for Cotton, who transformed into its staff form, Azura hopping on.

“Hop on!” Azura yelled at Lily, holding her hand out to Lily. Lily reached out and grabbed hold.

And then the sword came down on her back.

And Azura saw a spray of red come from the wound.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Azura pulled Lily up quickly, holding the now limp girl close. She sped off on Cotton, the armour chasing after them, though with the speed boost from riding her palisman, Azura quickly outpaced it. She blasted through the open door, skidding to a halt and placing Lily down gently on the ground before running over and pushing as hard as she could to close it, Cotton even flapping over to help her. She could still hear the armour rushing towards them, which only spurred Azura on more. Just as she thought she was going to be trampled by the running armour, she slammed the stone door shut, the armour slamming into it from the other side, but seemingly unable to push it open from its side. Deciding that would have to do for now, Azura picked Lily up and rushed her to the only place she could think of.

Lily was breathing shallow, and looked up at Azura. “Z-Zura. I… I need to tell you something…”

“You can tell me later, okay?” Azura said, wishing now more than ever she didn't inherent her mama's weak nerd arms.

“No. No, please. Let me tell you. Please.” Lily's voice was weak, each word a struggle.

Azura had tears in her eyes, her attempts to speak failing and just slowly nodding.

“I… I like you ‘Zura. I know… I know I denied it, but… I… I like you.” Lily admitted, her eyes slowly closing.

“Hey. Hey, you keep your eyes open, okay? Lily? Lily?!” Azura shook the girl as she passed out in Azura's arms. Seeing where she was heading, she burst through the door, nearly out of breath. “AUNT VINEY! I NEED HELP!”

What happened next was a blur. She breathlessly explained vaguely what happened to Viney, who took Lily away. Emira contacted Amity and Luz, who in turn contacted Anne, Sasha and Marcy. When everyone arrived, Amity and Luz checked on Azura, while Anne, Sasha and Marcy waited with Percy and Maddy, Lily's younger sister and the youngest sibling, waited for Viney to finish up with Lily. All Azura could pick up was when her Aunt Viney said Lily's wound healed without a scar. After what felt like an eternity, Anne walked up to Azura, getting down to eye level.

Azura looked at Anne with teary eyes. “I-I'm so sorry. I… I… I'm sorry.”

Anne softly smiled and put a comforting hand over Azura's. “Hey. Don't be. Lily told us what happened. You saved her, Azura. Thank you. So much.” Anne softly pulled Azura into a short hug. “Now, Lily says she wants to talk to you about something.”

Azura nodded, getting up and walking past the rest of Lily's family. Sasha looked over at Azura as the witchling passed by and mouthed a silent “Thank you,” before going back to keeping their youngest daughter occupied.

Azura entered the room where Lily was lying in a bed. Already, the human girl looked much better. Azura took a seat beside Lily.

“So… um… your mom said you wanted to talk to me?” Azura shifted awkwardly in her seat, unsure if Lily remembered what she had said on the way here. Lily nodded.

“First off, thanks. And… And you were right. We definitely shouldn't have gone down there.”

Azura sighed softly. “While you're right, I probably should have done something more to stop you. But what's important is that you're okay now.” She smiled softly.

Lily nodded. A small blush formed on her cheeks. “And… um… I meant what I said. On our way here.”

It was Azura's turn to blush, her face going as red as a tomato. “O-Oh. Um. O-Of course. I… I just wasn't sure if you remembered.” Azura shifted awkwardly again. “Um…” Azura sighed, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked Lily in the eyes. “I… I think I like you too, Lily.”

Lily's blush grew even brighter. “So… what does that mean for us?”

Azura took a deep breath. “I… I think this means… We take it slow. One date at a time. And see where we go from there.” Azura took Lily's hand with a smile. Lily smiled back.

“I think I can deal with that.”

From the doorway, Percy laughed. “Called it!” He received a pillow to the face from his sister for his troubles.

~Fin~

#the owl house #amphibia #azura noceda #lily boonchuy #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #sashannarcy #luz noceda #amity blight #lumity #toh viney #emira blight #vinera #lizura #thisbelongsto-nohbodys

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