#I've been away for a while be kind i'm a bit out of shape here

[justapoet]

a key on the chain (take it with you and run)

“Annabeth Chase,” the man repeated, as if it meant something more than just a random name. “Isn’t that why you chose this house?” “Why, on Earth, would I pick a house based on whether or not this Annabeth Chase was my neighbour?” Percy asked. “To catch the cat!” the man explained, and Percy sincerely laughed. “What cat?” Percy asked, now wondering if he had drunk something that tasted bad or a bit out of the ordinary. He must have been sleeping, having those weird dreams some people claim have meanings but, in the end, were just a bunch of thoughts squeezed together in a juice jar. “The one with the key." OR, Percy wants a new beginning back where he came from. He moves to New Rome, a quaint neighbourhood in New York, where every single man seems to make a life out of chasing a yellow cat with a key around its neck. Whoever catches it, apparently, won't be denied the prize they all seek: Annabeth Chase's — the most beautiful woman around — hand in marriage. Percy doesn't get it, and much less wants to engage with such activities or with the mysterious woman. But it's a bit harder when she lives just next doors, and the yellow cat becomes a faithful companion of his.

Read it on Ao3

It was ironic, honestly, that he was standing at the door of his new house in New Rome, a quaint neighborhood in New York, New York, after he had decided to sell his house and get the hell out of the simple neighborhood he lived in Rome, Italy, for so many years. Ironic, to say the least, because Percy hadn’t even registered how the place was called before he had set foot back in the United States, his life all packed up in a bunch of luggage and Ms. O’Leary, his loyal companion, by his side.

And he should have registered it, probably, because it would be a responsible thing to do. But in the hurry he found himself in, and the crisis that was the catalyst for the sudden, brutal change of life and routine and choices, Percy didn’t think of much before buying the house and getting on a plane to sign the papers and get his keys.

Now, there he stood — in front of a small, dainty house, with brick walls and a wooden front double door and a large windowsill that gave it all a sweet, home-like air. It was the perfect definition of cozy, the front lawn mowed, and some flower bushes making it look even more graceful than he had first thought it’d be. The place seemed to come from a picture, those beautiful illustrations on books about fairies and magic and hope, and Percy wondered it that would be enough to settle his unsteady heart and calm his troubled mind.

Because the place was beautiful, and yet he couldn’t see or feel the hope of new beginnings that so many people had told him it would bring; he was standing in front of what now was his house, the boxes and furniture already inside for him to organize and distribute as he would like, and Percy could only feel tired. Not from his travels, not from having to put everything to a place — but he was tired, overall, and the weight of his choices and the paths he’d walked seemed to rest over his shoulder.

He was back in New York, and there was nothing really there for him. Not anymore, because he had decided to travel the world so many years before and, at some point, he had stopped keeping in touch with everyone he left behind. His mother, father, stepfather, stepmother, half-siblings and friends — he hadn’t talked to them in years. Long, long years that seemed to now taint his past and shadow his face and cloud his memories of what it was like to be with them, to be there.

And maybe being back should be inspiring. Perhaps being again in north American territory should give him the hopes and the energy to reach out and try to find them as soon as possible; but all he felt was dread. Dread, and dreadful fear that he had lost that part of his life — the one that made him who he was — forever, and because of his terrible choices and the terrible feelings that had settled in his chest so long before.

He was staring at his house, and Percy wondered how long it could take for him to feel at home.

Because it once was home to be in New York, and he had forgotten how it felt. It once was home to never belong anywhere, traveling around and meeting new people and meeting new cultures and faces and languages, until the moment there was nothing but emptiness and the everlasting feeling of missing someone, something, somewhere.

His family, and everything they meant. He feared their anger, despite knowing that was what he deserved, after all. After so long, after so much pain he was sure he had caused them through the years he never even gave a sign of life.

New beginnings should be scary, yes, and ultimately exciting.

Percy was simply terrified.

Ms. O’Leary, on the other hand, seemed thrilled about having new places to discover. Her tail hadn’t stopped moving from the moment they got out of the taxi — who charged him an absurd amount of money upon seeing the dog, but that was quite alright at that point — and Percy had opened the gate that matched the fence circling the property. She had barked and set off to run around, and Percy couldn’t help but chuckle.

At least one of them was excited enough for both.

Percy sighed, taking the key to his front door so he could finally come in and see the mess he’d have to face and make more of soon enough until he could properly relax and rethink every single step of his life. Ms. O’Leary had already made her way to the backyard, somehow, and he could hear her barking at something — probably nothing at all —, chuckling a bit more at his best friend’s happiness on stretching her legs.

He shook his head, rolling his eyes fondly at the mental image of Ms. O’Leary simply running in circles around the area he was yet to see. Then, he looked up again at the doors, and inhaled deeply.

And his dramatic entrance to an empty house as a metaphor for his empty life was rudely interrupted before he could even fit the key in the door.

“So, you’re the lucky one?” someone spoke behind him, and Percy snapped his head in the voice’s direction, turning his body around as well, key still in hand. A man stood behind his fence, a heavy terracotta coat hanging from his shoulders, a suit underneath it and a black Panama hat tucked to his head a bit too much. His face wasn’t sympathetic, and instead he stared at Percy as if he was a bug the man desperately wanted to step on.

Weird. To say the very least.

“Uh— Hello?” Percy greeted, unsure of what to make of the situation. “I beg your pardon; ‘the lucky one’?” he frowned, and the man seemed to snap out of whatever it was that crossed his mind.

“My apologies. Welcome to New Rome,” the man spoke again, now taking a few steps to walk past the open gate and offer his hand in greeting. When he was close enough, Percy, still incredibly confused, shook the man’s hand.

“Percy Jackson,” he offered. “Thank you.”

For the welcome. Not for whatever it was that had happened before.

“Luke Castellan,” the man replied in earnest, his handshake firm before Percy let go of it. “First time in New York?” he asked, and Percy couldn’t quite pin down what it was that seemed so off about the sympathy in his tone.

“In a couple of years, yes,” Percy limited himself to say. Then, his curiosity got the best of him. “What did you say about me being ‘the lucky one’, may I ask?”

Luke’s smile seemed to tighten. Percy decided that it was best to be careful.

“The house,” Luke said. Percy frowned.

“Why? Is it better than the others?” he asked, looking back at the house behind him. When he looked at Luke again, the guy had an eyebrow raised.

“It’s beside Annabeth Chase’s house,” he spoke again, his tone implying that the fact was somehow obvious. Percy was sincerely beginning to think the conversation couldn’t possibly get weirder.

Rookie mistake.

“Who?” Percy could only ask, tilting his head to the side.

Luke frowned, then. Now, he seemed genuinely confused. Percy wanted to say that he had no right to — what, on Earth, was that man talking about?

“Annabeth Chase,” Luke repeated, as if it meant something more than just a random name.  “Isn’t that why you chose this house?”

Percy’s face was probably odd to look at, now that he was sure it was completely contorted with his bewilderment. His mouth was slight open and twisted, and he couldn’t narrow his eyes more before completely closing them.

“I chose the house my realtor offered me,” Percy said. “Why, on Earth, would I pick a house based on whether or not this Annabeth Chase was my neighbor?”

“To catch the cat!” Luke explained, and Percy sincerely laughed.

“What cat?” Percy asked, now wondering if he had drunk something that tasted bad or a bit out of the ordinary. He must have been sleeping, having those weird dreams some people claim have meanings but, in the end, were just a bunch of thoughts squeezed together in a juice jar.

“The one with the key,” Luke spoke again, and Percy could really wake up right then. He moved his arms and hands in exasperation, completely lost, and shook his head, eyes wide as he tried to understand what the man could possibly be talking about.

“Do you seriously not know?” Luke asked, and he seemed truly surprised. Percy would need an analgesic for the building headache on his temples.

Percy shook his head in disbelief yet again.

“Man, I just got back from another continent. I do not have the most single idea of who the hell Annabeth Chase is, what a cat and a key mean or how the house I now own has to do with it.”

Luke stared at Percy, who just stared right back as he tried to get his point across. After the better part of a minute, the brunette man seemed to have accepted that the newcomer really didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, and his gaze turned apologetic.

“Okay, then. I’m sorry, man,” Luke spoke, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat. “It’s just an ongoing competition for Annabeth’s cat and their key.”

Percy frowned again.

“Competition?” he asked. Luke nodded.

“It’s a thing we have around here,” he began, and Percy tilted his head. “The house beside yours belongs to Annabeth Chase, the most beautiful woman in the neighborhood. Dare I say, and any other person, the most beautiful woman in New York,” he explained, and something in his tone, again, seemed to put Percy on edge. Luke looked at the house he was talking about, the glint in his eyes with something much more distorted than what someone might mistake for affection. “Every single young man in the neighborhood had offered her their hand in marriage, and desperately wanted to wed her,” he told him, and Percy visibly winced. Luke didn’t notice.

Marrying someone for looks? Asking for their hand in marriage because they look pretty?

The discontentment was clear over Percy’s face. He was definitely going insane.

“She refused one by one, and yet they came back to ask her again. Expensive gifts, poems, songs; they tried to convince her with everything, anything they could buy and hand her,” the man continued, and Percy felt a pang of sympathy for whoever the woman was. What a tragic thing, to be seen as one more object those men could be handed and pay for. “One day, though, Miss Chase grew tired of all men knocking on her door and proposing ridiculous things. So, she made a challenge — whoever caught her cat and the key on the cat’s neck, would not be denied her hand in marriage. Since then, there’s been a whole thing trying to catch the animal: cages, traps, the most unhinged plans seen. No one could ever catch it.”

A wave of satisfaction rolled in his ears, and Percy made his very best not to let it trespass to his expression. He sympathized with the woman, and somehow was intrigued by her presence and the plan she had made — it was odd how she knew that the cat wouldn’t be caught, and yet a high risk to take if she didn’t want any of those men by her side.

Something, Percy thought, that no one could possibly blame her for. One needs to be pathetically vain to try and win someone’s heart as a prize, and not ever think about treasuring it as it should happen. And agreeing to go after a cat instead of just, perhaps, asking this Annabeth out and trying their luck by being normal people? Percy didn’t think that he would like a single soul in the neighborhood.

“They stopped coming to her house,” Luke carried on, taking Percy back from his thoughts and judgements. “And, to this day, everyone tries to catch the yellow cat with a hanging key and earn her love,” he concluded, and looked at Percy again, who was trying his best not to roll his eyes in front of his new neighbor. Those men could be trying to earn anything, but not her love. “We were all curious, then, as for who had taken the house closest to hers.”

Percy blinked, shaking his head.

“I have nothing to do with chasing cats and hanging keys, man, I can tell you that much,” he said. “I just got the house.”

“We all see it,” he said.

“And I would much rather the accusation stopped, Mr. Castellan, for I have no intention to add ‘trapping a cat’ to my routine,” Percy spoke, a little more serious. “I have nothing to do with this odd contest of yours, and I intend to keep it that way,” he explained.

Luke seemed a bit convinced. And a bit too smug for Percy’s liking.

“You’re a first, then,” the man said, and Percy arched an eyebrow. Luke sighed. “My apologies for the accusations, Mr. Jackson. The subject just tends to get on our nerves.”

“I figured,” Percy said. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Castellan; I’ve had a long day.”

The man nodded.

“Of course. Have a good afternoon,” he complied to Percy’s farewell, touching his hat and then turning around to leave the property. Percy watched him go for a few seconds, and then decided that it was too much to process standing at his doorstep.

He was intrigued, to say the least, about the whole scenario he had just been presented to. A woman with whom he couldn’t help but sympathize, being chased and wanted like some sort of prize for someone’s ego and pride. A cat that seemed to outsmart a whole neighborhood — though, after the whole story, Percy couldn’t believe it was that hard to do it —, and a bunch of grown adults who didn’t have anything better to do but to watch every person’s moves and doubt their smallest intentions.

Amazing. And he thought he’d find some peace by being back at his childhood town.

Read the rest on Ao3!

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo fandom #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #my fics #i'm back! #it's been a really long while since I've written anything so i'm really happy to be back! #ao3 fanfic #my writing #justapoet writes #they've been taking over my brain lately enough that i started writing again so i'll be brainrotting for them for a while it seems #I've been away for a while be kind i'm a bit out of shape here #hope you'll like it :)

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Whiskey on the Tongue

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.

It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.

I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.

Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.

*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***

Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.

The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.

“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.

“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.

“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.

“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.

Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.

He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.

He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.

“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”

Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.

You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.

Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.

He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.

It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.

A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.

He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.

The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.

“Where’s yours?”

The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.

“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.

Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.

You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.

Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.

Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.

He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…

“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.

You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.

“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.

You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”

Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.

His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.

Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.

He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.

Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.

While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.

Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.

“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”

You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.

Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.

Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.

“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”

You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.

From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.

When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.

Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.

“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.

“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.

His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.

You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.

Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.

“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.

He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.

When you moved to sit, he stopped you.

“Here, lemme get that.”

“Thanks.”

He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.

A loud knock at the door started you.

“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”

“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.

“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.

“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.

There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.

Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #spn #supernatural fic #spn fanfic #dean winchester fic #cloudy's writing #my first spn fic

[wriothesleybear]

A True Angel Amongst Us

~warnings: Some angst but ends with fluff, insecure Sunday, slight story spoilers, fem!reader, 1.9k words.

~a/n: I've been wanting to write for Sunday for a while now and the first thing I write has angst ;-; I've been having trouble coming up with ideas for him, but after the 2.1 patch, I've wanted to write fluff for him and about his insecure side because I feel like he sort of has one deep down. Angel just needs some love.

Sunday has been tenser than usual lately. The stress from the loss of his dear sister, the struggle of finding her murderer, and the stress from the possibility of a traitor being amongst The Family and the pressure from his master being the main cause of his tension. He puts on a mask and pretends that everything is fine to ensure that The Family's image isn't tarnished, but behind closed doors is different. When he's alone, he just stares off into space, lost deep in the sea of his endless thoughts. Even with you, his dear wife, he puts on a mask sometimes. He doesn't want to worry you and show you the strong leader that he is, who is capable of overcoming any obstacles and who will deliver righteousness when the day comes.

But no matter how much he tries to hide his weaknesses, you can see beyond his mask. You notice in the way his shoulders are always tense, his hands in fists, the frown that lingers on his face when he thinks you aren't looking, and the way he's less talkative during your limited time together. You hate seeing your husband this way, knowing he's bottling everything up inside. It's only a matter of time until it all bubbles up and he eventually snaps.

You decide to visit him in his dreamscape mansion office. You hadn't seen him all day due to him being busy with work. You weren't even able to see him off this morning as his side of the bed was already empty and made up. Knocking on his door, he tells you to come in. "What brings you here my dear?" He says with his masked emotions. Your eyes survey his office, noticing how it's a bit messier than usual even for Sunday's standards. He usually has everything in perfect shape given his ocd. Nothing was ever out of place for him unless something was wrong, further proving your suspicions. He notices how your eyes survey his office, the look of concern on your face is apparent. "I wanted to check in on you, my love. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay." You offer him a gentle, kind smile. "Of course I'm doing well. Why wouldn't I be? As head of The Family, it is my duty to be competent to fulfill my role." He gives you a smile, but it's not a real one. It's one of those fake smiles he puts on for show when out in the public eye.

"Sunday. I know something's bothering you. Please, just talk to me." His smile falters, his fake smile fading as he contemplates your words. You had been worried about him ever since the death of his sister. As the caring wife you are, you've been by his side, making sure that he was doing alright. Bless your soul, but with all the questions and pity stares, he couldn't help but get disgruntled. He knows you meant well, but his insecurity couldn't help but get the better of him. He thought you saw him as weak. I mean, he couldn't protect his dear sister for god's sake. It's his duty to protect those he cares about and he failed. He surveys your face while lost in his thoughts. His train of thought is broken by your calls of his name. He plasters on his fake smile.

"Dear, there's no need to worry about me. Or do you truly believe I'm just that weak?" You're taken aback from his accusation. You gather your courage and try to shut down his allegation. "Of course I don't. You're the strongest person I know, Sunday. It's just.. I can tell you're undergoing a lot of stress lately given the loss of your sister and work. I want to help you." By now his fake smile has fallen completely, replaced with a emotionless look. Turning away from you, his back faces you, making you unable to see the pain on his facial features. "I'm fine. You should leave, dear.." You could hear the coldness in his tone. The emptiness in his words sending slight shivers down your spine. You try to protest and get him to open up to you, but he cuts you off. "Don't let me tell you twice." He says in a strict voice, void of emotion. You hesitate but respect his wishes. You turn to leave without another word said. He doesn't even notice the breath he was holding until the door shut behind you.

~

Later that night, you lay wide awake in bed. Thoughts of your earlier event with Sunday replay in your head. After you left Sunday's office, you thought everything would be okay by dinnertime, but he never showed. You tried not to take it to heart too much, taking in consideration what he's going through right now, but when it got to midnight and he still hadn't arrived home, you began to feel worse. You've known Sunday for years. You knew how he was raised to become the perfect leader to represent The Family. He was a strong leader who believed in righteousness, in helping those in need, and caring for the people of Penacony. You know he's the kindest and most compassionate person with many strengths, but you also knew that he had many insecurities. He was scared that others would see him as weak and he was worried that everything he worked so hard for would be taken from him. Getting tired of wallowing in your thoughts, you finally decide to find him and try to get him to talk to you one way or another.

Arriving to his office once again, you knock on the door and patiently wait for an answer. "Sunday? It's me. Can I come in?" No answer. Maybe he was shunning you, but you weren't one to back down and walk away. You weren't going to give up on your husband. "Sunday. I'm coming in." Grabbing the door knob, you push the door open and are welcomed to a dark office. The only faint light coming from the windows in his office. Even with the limited lighting, you were able to see that Sunday's office was a bigger mess than earlier. Papers and books were thrown about the floor, the miniature display of Penacony in ruins. Worried, you continue to scan the room until your eyes land on the man slumped over his desk. Walking over to him, you observe his appearance. His clothes are in disarray, coat thrown recklessly on the chair, his wings and hair disheveled. "Sunday.." You hesitate for a second before resting a hand on his head. He tenses from your touch, causing you to withdrawal your hand. "Darling? What happened?" You ask in the most gentlest voice you could muster while trying not to push him too hard to talk. He doesn't reply to you. He keeps his head down on his desk, not willing to move an inch.

You quietly sigh. "Sunday. I understand if you don't like me pestering you with worries and questions. I'm your wife and I care about you. I'm only trying to be there to support you. I am here to support you. For anything. I'm here." Silence. You didn't expect him to reply but you wanted him to hear you out. "I'll give you your space, but just know, I'm here for you with open arms when and if you need to talk." You turn to walk away but suddenly, you're stopped in your tracks by a hand grabbing your wrist. Turning your head back, you see that Sunday is finally looking at you. You can see the pain in his eyes and by how his hand slightly shakes. Without saying anything, you turn your body to fully face him and open your arms wide, silently welcoming him into your arms.

He doesn't waste another second and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his head into your chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you feel his body slightly shaking as you hold him close. "It's okay Sunday. You don't need to hide from me. I won't judge you. Please, don't push me away. I'm here for you." You gently whisper as you stroke his hair. He doesn't speak, all that's heard is his deep, shaky breaths as he tries to control his emotions. It's taking all his willpower to not breakdown crying right there.

"Can you look at me darling?" He's hesitant, but eventually pulls his head away from your body without releasing his hold around your waist. He looks up at you. You notice the painful expression that graces his beautiful features. His golden eyes water as he tries to prevent the tears from falling. He hates showing weakness let alone looking weak in front of you. You cup his cheeks as you search his eyes, giving him a gentle smile. "It's okay to show weakness sometimes, my love. You're the strongest person I know and nothing will change the way I feel about you. I will always see you as the strongest, most caring leader and husband."

Without realizing, tears have begun to fall from Sunday's eyes as he listens to your reassuring words. Your thumbs move to wipe his tears. "I'm...I'm sorry...for pushing you away." He quietly says, his voice slightly cracking. "There's no reason to apologize, Sunday. I know you didn't mean to. I don't blame you." He feels guilty and embarrassed as he tries to move away so you don't see him cry, but you stop him. "It's okay to cry my love. Let it out if it'll help you feel better." He can feel the love through your words and the look you give him, causing more tears to fall. All you do is give him a comforting smile and continue to rub his wet cheeks as he lets his emotions out. You lean down and press a kiss to his left cheek. He gasps, surprised by your sudden action. You switch to his other cheek and continue to kiss his tears away. You leave one final kiss on his forehead and pull his face into your chest. "We can stay like this for as long as you want my angel." He buries his head further into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you comfort him.

You can feel his body relaxing as he continues to bask in your comforting hold. "Thank you, my love. You are the true angel amongst us." You giggle and continue to hold him close for as long as he needs, occasionally giving him words of comfort and gently stroking his hair and back. You'll wait as long as it takes until he's ready to talk to you, but he understands now that he has you to catch him when he falls and he'll never push you away again.

#hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday headcanons #sunday fluff #hsr x reader #hsr headcanons #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons

[privitivium]

thinkin about some kind of yan doctor or nurse. nurse would be a afab cutesy dude in that stereotypical "sexy" nurse outfit and amab doctor would look similar to herbert west from re-animator with the hair and glasses. strong jaw and shit.... ahem. goes off the rails, kinda all over the place as these are only ideas. Ahemhrm. some of it doesnt make sense im SORRY.

creep nurse/doctor x clueless, subtop reader

cw + for future references;; manipulation??,,; treating you like an idiot-ish, noncon touching, polite doctor is a freak, cutesy nurse is gross,, drugging ( receiving )

clueless idiot moron you, walks in for a mere checkup. you feel me? just a simple checkup!!! few days after your birthday... waiting in waiting room, nonchalantly staring at the wall and zoning out and making shapes with the swirly-design on the walls when ur name is called by the nurse, a cutesy frail lookin guy, interest is caught by nurse;; gets all blushy and shit, closing in on himself and rubbing his thighs together before leading you to the back to get ur weight and height with you trying to make small talk with no reply.. getting a little upset because you think the nurse is being moody but not engaging any further with a huff..,,

takin you to one of the backrooms. dude poking you with a stick and rubbing that damn popsicle stick all on your tongue - making you choke??? bro turns away toward the cabinets; back facing you, immediately sucking it off. ahem. takin a stethoscope and rubbin it all over ur chest under yr shirt n shit... the normal-ish routine of a normal-ish checkup - doing everything the doctor will do when he arrives.. and then he does! nurse off to the bathroom, masturbating with the fuckin tongue depressor he made you gag with in one of the very clean bathrooms,, doctor coming in, looking over ur charts and ranting to you about some random shit about his day, happily listening as the doctor was a bit more chatty than the cutesy lil nurse..

"yeah, it was pretty busy today... this nurse has been getting on my nerves, i've been thinking about asking to have him transferred.." , asking how your day was as he checks your throat out with a tongue depressor like the nurse did,,, "so how was ur day, hun?" while having a popsicle stick down ur throat... dick bulging as he runs a stethoscope over your chest, cold nitrile gloved hands brushing over your nipples briefly,,, telling you to take deep breaths before moving toward your back - briefly wandering over ur muscles before listening to your lungs - a shiver crawling up his spine,, "you're doin real good for me, champ..." ahem. champ..? doctor says you're all good, patting your shoulder with a bright, gleeful smileㅡbut you should totally come back in a few days, as i'm prescribing you some medicine!

what?? medicine?? looking at him all questioning and saying, "really? whats this for." while shaking the orange bottle.. so quickly he prepared this? jeez.. he waves you off, "for ur immune system - vitamins, don't be silly." you didnt come in here to be prescribed some... what the hell is this - you cant even read this shit. uh...

really? come back again so soon?? yeah, sure alright.. doctors orders and all that.. you shrug it off, take the dosage he prescribed you when home and gettin rock fucking hard and having to repeatedly jerk off just for ur erection to start softening.. layin in ur filth, overstimulated and ultimately tired.. doctors orders and all that, saying that you had to take one a day.. ugh.. doctors orders suck amiright. you did get some sort of reaction like that when taking sleeping medicine but not to the extent of getting an actual erection. hmrmm... not suspicious at all :3

"no, no, you gotta stay more, trust. something is totally wrong with you... have you been taking ur vitamins i prescribed??" you have no family or friends to tell you that no, that place is a fucking wreck with doctors with literally no actual qualifications. LOL

going back the week after for another checkup as the doctor called it, being tired as he trails his nitrile gloved hands over your throat and chest.. asking how the vitamins are treating you and you tell him straight up, "they give me boners that last a while even after i nut.. that normal?" while scratching the back of your head... "yeaah! that happens in the very beginning, but don't worry, that'll go away..." is in awe, lowkey, as he touches the hands that you stroked ur dick with. Ahem. doctor tells you to come back next week ... and you do, nurse guiding you again, and you tell him its good to see him.. which he eagerly says the same, nurse is pretty chatty with you.. happily making conversation about ur shirt and saying he totally likes that band or whatever!!

going over your "charts" and says he needs a sample of your spit / urine?? for the doctor to test becuz its totally regulation, totally unaware that he totally had that he added the sample to his growing shrine in the basement that only had a few tissues and the popsicle stick with a grainy picture of you he took over the cameras in the hall... a copied tape of the feed containing you and all that... freak. so weirded out when they tell you to put on one of the hospital gowns and follow them to the larger area that turns into an actual hospital rather than office..,,,

#ocs =͟͟͞͞★ #“polite” doctor and cute nurse ... #x male reader #male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #yandere doctor #yandere nurse! #subtop reader

[monster-slxt]

A human's sole purpose in this world is to be a breeding bitch for monsters. At least that's what all humans in your kingdom are told.

From the age of 18, all humans are taken to a special establishment, where they are taught about the various different species of monsters and the best way to please them during mating.

Upon completing your training, you and several other humans are taken to the breeder center. This is where you and many other humans will be shown off to the high ranked members of society. All in hopes of being picked by one of the many wealthy nobles to be their personal breeding bitch.

It's an honor to get shown off at the auctions and not just put in the pound, only those who did exceptionally well at obedience school get to be shown off like this.

We're all cleaned up and pampered before the viewing period, bathed with sweet oils and pampered, clothed only in an expensive leather collar with our lot number so potential buyers know which human to bid on. They position us on little stages, collars leashed to the floor more in formality than anything, they know we won't try anything.

The first hour or so is viewing only. Hosts lead wealthy monsters of all shapes and sizes around the extravagant room, pointing out our best qualities to potential owners. It's hard not to squirm under so many eyes, but I've been trained well. A drider dressed in fine silks and gold asks something to her groups host, who promptly reaches out and pinches my exposed clit hard enough to make me moan. The drider seems impressed, her eyes lingering on me as the group walks away.

It's so hard not to whine and beg for attention as the guests talk about me like I'm not even there. Especially as I get wetter and wetter listening to how my potential new masters would treat me, which only gets more people talking about me. The cute little human, so desperate to be owned and bred by a monster. I quickly loose track of how many times I'm visited over the viewing period, there's just so many potential owners here- of all different kinds too. A couple orcs, a pack of werewolves looking for a new toy, some minotaurs and centaurs, even a few dragons.

Finally, though, it's time for the bidding to start and the guests are taken away for a meal while the humans are taken backstage. We'll be auctioned off one by one, a last chance to gain interest and get more money for the training center. My lot number puts me around the middle of the pack, so it'll be a while before I'm on stage. Even with all my training it's soo hard to wait, I'm so horny from the viewing period but I know I'm not allowed to touch without permission.

In the end there was a bit of a bidding war over me, though the stage lights meant I couldn't make out who-or what- exactly bought me in the end. I'm so nervous, so excited as I'm taken off stage to meet my new owners. My heart is pounding, evidence of my arousal dripping down my legs. The handler leads me towards one of the minotaurs who seemed especially interested in me, exchanging pleasantries with my new owner and handing off my leash without a word to me.

#asks #monsterfucking #monster smut

[roarriita]

roommates - ellie williams (6)

au

femreader!xelliewilliams!

part five, here

content warning: explicit language, mention of drugs, sexual thoughts & acts, potential parental issues

// authors note: there is a small singing portion. yes, bbg ellie is singing and if you're the kind of person that likes to get completely immersed into the fanfic you're reading, i suggest listening to this cover while reading the singing portion of this chapter. i know i loved listening to it as i wrote it (you don't have to tho!) but anyway i hope you guys enjoy and are having an amazing day/night!! link to cover. //

// initial summary: the day after you officially moved into your new college dorm, you decide to take a look around the school, getting familiar to the clubs that they have to offer as well as the libraries, classes and cafeteria. you come back to your dorm in hopes of taking a shower and sitting in quiet solitude, but your plans are disrupted by your new roommate moving in… ellie williams. //

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it's been four weeks. four whole weeks since you last felt ellie's lips on yours. the tension between you two felt like a heat wave. you could barely think, your skin burned, and the air became all too difficult to breathe. you weren't sure how exactly you made it this far without giving in.

your eyes followed along with your book as you sat under the big oak tree on campus. despite it almost being october, it was warm out today. you decided to take advantage of the nice weather and read outside. not being able to really process the words that you were reading, you set the book aside and sighed. you looked up at the clouds, trying to figure out what different shapes the masses created.

strawberry… pencil… heart… and a man holding a little girls hand. you shut your eyes and cursed at your brain to stop playing tricks with you. you opened your eyes and analyzed the clouds again.

lollipop… cat… trumpet and two faces screaming at each other. with a frustrated sigh, you looked back down at your book and left your post at the tree.

back in your dorm, ellie sat on her bed, sketching. whenever ellie had free time, that's what you'd see her doing, either that or playing the guitar. although, she never let you see more than the occasional quick sketch, she always let you hear her playing the guitar and even let you put in requests. finishing up on her drawing, she held it up to blow away the led residue.

just then, her phone began to ring.

after checking the caller id, the corners of her lips slightly raised. ellie immediately answered it. "dad, hey."

"hey, dino." joel spoke. "i was calling to to thank you for the birthday gift."

"when are you going to stop calling me that." ellie groaned.

"does never sound good to you?" joel sarcastically responded.

"ugh, whatever. just know, you’re one more birthday away from being put in diapers." ellie sassed.

joel laughed. "is that a threat, dino?"

"think of it as a promise, old man." ellie joked. the daughter and father duo laughed before returning to their conversation.

"but seriously, i love the power drill set." joel said. "i've been getting the jobs done ten times as faster with this thing."

ellie smiled but bit her lip when she was reminded of the fact that her dad was still working, day and night in order to send her to school. ever since joel took 8-year-old ellie in, she couldn't help but feel like a burden to the man. he was just too good to her. "well, i'm glad to hear that."

"if you don't mind me asking, where'd you get the money for it? this isn't one of those cheap 20 dollar sets you get from walmart, these are high quality, meaning it would've had to cost you at least a hundred or so bucks." joel questioned.

"don't worry about it." ellie replied.

"dino, don't tell me you got a part time job." joel sighed into the phone. "what did i tell you? i wanted you to focus on your schoolwork and if you needed money that i'd send you some."

"dad, please, i don't want a lecture right now." ellie said. "i like working, okay? it's a nice break from school, i swear to you, it's not getting in the way of school."

"but-"

ellie cut him off. "dad, please."

"alright..." the man sighed. "at least promise me that you'll leave as soon as it starts getting in the way of your education?"

"i promise, dad." ellie assured him. some muffled hollering paired with the sound of an excavator, interrupted their conversation.

"i'll be right there!" joel shouted away from his phone before turning back to his blackberry. "i gotta go. have a good day and don't stress yourself out too much."

"okay, dad."

"love you, dino."

"love you too, dad, bye."

"bye."

once the phone call ended, ellie got up from her bed and walked over to her desk. she took one more look at her latest sketch and smiled. once she heard the door open, she shut her sketchbook and placed it inside the bottom drawer of the desk. "hey, el." you almost muttered before dropping your bag on top of your dresser.

"hey, (y/n)." ellie responded, when she noticed how sad you looked, she crossed her arms. "is everything alright?"

you turned around, leaning your back into the dresser. you tried lying and saying you were fine but you just couldn't find the energy to do so. "no, i’m not."

"do you wanna tell me what's wrong?" ellie took a step closer to you. she rarely ever saw you like this. you were so good at masking your anger and sadness. last week, ellie literally saw you smile through the pain of receiving a horrible grade for a test that you studied your ass off for.

"no." you shook your head. if there was one thing that you and ellie had in common, was that of feeling like a burden.

"right..." ellie said. "is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"

you thought about it for a second. your eyes trailed around the room and a small smile formed on your lips when you saw her guitar. you walked over to her side of the room, grabbed the instrument and then held it out to her. "born to die by lana del rey." ellie took the guitar from you with a matching smile. "did you actually learn it?"

"maybe." ellie shrugged. "you'll have to be the judge of that." ellie didn't want to admit it but every time you requested a song that she didn't know, she'd spend hours trying to learn it. she just loved the way your face lit up at the sound of her fingers strumming the guitar to your favorite songs.

ellie took a seat on her desk chair as you did the same on your own. she propped up the instrument and readied her hands and fingers. after a quiet and barely audible countdown left ellie's lips, she began playing.

once she started, you felt the knot of anxiety that had formed at the pit of your stomach earlier, slowly come undone. you noticed she played the first few cords a couple of times, almost like she was preparing herself for something. without warning, ellie began singing. "feet don't fail me now, take me to the finish line. oh, my heart, it breaks every step that i take, but i'm hoping at the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine." by now, the knot had completely come undone. her voice sounded so pretty and blissful. you've never heard a voice as gentle and beautiful as hers.

"walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design? i feel so alone on a friday night. can you make it feel like home, if i tell you you're mine? it's like I told you, honey,"

ellie stared down at her fingers strumming the guitar, she was too nervous to see your reaction. she continued to sing, feeling every strum, every melody and every lyric. "don't make me sad, don't make me cry, sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough, i don't know why. keep making me laugh, let's go get high. the road is long, we carry on, try to have fun in the meantime."

you were too captivated by her voice to filter yourself as your eyes watered up. "come and take a walk on the wild side. let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. you like your girls insane. so, choose your last words, this is the last time, 'cause you and i, we were born to die."

ellie played a few more chords before coming to a stop. her cheeks were flushed as she placed her guitar down. she grabbed her thighs and looked up at you, ready to take whatever negative criticism you had to throw at her. "holy shit, ellie." a few tears escaped from your (y/c/e) eyes.

"please tell me you liked it." ellie almost begged.

"liked it?" you questioned. "ellie, i'm fucking crying. i loved it!" you then got out of your seat to pull her in for a hug. you wrapped your arms around her neck and pulled her head close, up against your stomach. with a smile of content and relief, ellie tightly wrapped her arms around your lower waist.

ellie slowly got out of her seat to hug you properly. she took in the milliseconds that passed as she held you in her arms. she missed this, she ached for this. she wants so desperately to never let you go. here, in this position, it was perfect. it was enough for her. it was more than enough and though she was the one who ended things, she wished that this was enough for you too. even if it was just for now.

she needed you to wait for her.

✩───────────✩──────────✩

"i don't get it, why am i blindfolded." you asked as ellie's car came to a stop.

"because it's a surprise." ellie answered. "you can take off your seatbelt now."

once you took it off, ellie got out of the car and jogged around to your side. she opened the door, helped you out and then led you to wherever it was she wanted to take you. you held on tightly to her hands, not wanting to trip or fall. as you inched closer, you could hear the sounds of laughter, games and loud swooshing noises. "okay, stop." ellie stood behind you and carefully removed the blindfold.

your face lit up when you realized where ellie had taken you and why she asked you to wear shorts or pants instead of your usual dress. "the carnival."

"surprise." ellie smiled.

"you didn't have to do this ellie." you looked over at her. this was probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for you.

"but i wanted to." ellie shrugged. she'd do anything to see you get your smile back.

"but my bag, you told me to leave my bag at home." your eyebrows furrowed.

"yeah, 'cause today is on me." ellie said.

"oh, c'mon." you protested. "i can't let you do that."

"too bad, we're already here." ellie shrugged as she grabbed one of your hands and began pulling you towards the entrance. "and i'm not leaving until we go on every single ride and try every deep-fried food this place has to offer."

"fine, but if i puke on you, don't blame me." the two of you laughed as you walked inside.

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part seven, here

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #tlou #college ellie! #fluff #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem!reamder #elliexreader #tlou2 #ellie sings to you

[starstruckserenity]

reverse comfort with s/o who’s a soft hugger that tries to cheer kokichi up by using his interests? ex. gaming

hi everyone!! i am so, SO sorry for the inactivity. i haven't been doing too well mentally as of late, and motivation is very hard to come by. thank you for the request, and thank you for being patient! ❤

"Y/N?" Kokichi called your name from the exterior of your door.

You had been relaxing on your couch, deciding to spend a few hours by yourself. Being able to forget about the horrors of the killing game for a while was a nice change of pace. Soon, your eyesight grew hazy. You were slowly falling into a quiet slumber, ready to embrace the euphoric feeling of a 6-hour nap...

Ouma knocked on your door rapidly, panicking to himself. He felt as though he didn't quite catch your attention, the attention he needed so desperately.

This immediately disturbed your sleep. You looked up and let out an overexaggerated sigh before getting up and opening the door.

There he was. Ouma stood there silently, staring at you with cold, hopeless eyes, his mouth drawn into a straight line. He was tracing your doorframe with his left fingertips, and fidgeting with the end of his coat with his right hand.

"Hey. I really need someone to talk to. I need you. Let me in... please." He mumbled out quickly. He looked down and let his purple locks fall over his face. He looked almost shameful. You were fairly surprised, you had never seen him so quiet, so lost for words... You were partly expecting that this was some kind of joke.

"God, Kokichi, I've never seen you this stressed. If you're just using me for the empathy I have for you, I'm gonna be pissed." You joked, cocking your head to the side.

Kokichi grimaced, his frown piercing through your heart and mind. You blinked. "Shut up. Just let me inside."

You just looked at him for a moment before ushering him inside your room, guiding him with a gentle hand.

As soon as you both got inside, he threw his arms around you and collapsed onto you without any warning. You yelped, falling back onto the sofa you were once casually resting in.

"Kokichi, seriously... What's wrong?" You half-yelled, before shutting yourself up as you felt his hair tickle your collarbone.

"You can talk to me." You whispered in a hushed tone, subtly wrapping your arms around him as you heard him sniffle into your chest.

"I hate this. I hate this, Y/N. I really do. I have to get outta here. I have to get out before they do something to me, before they kill me, I have to---" He was silenced when you started mindlessly drawing shapes onto his forearms. He watched you, melting into your embrace. He shuddered a bit at the sensation of your fingers on his skin, loving every second of it.

"It'll be fine, Kokichi. You'll make it, I'm sure of it. ...And, I mean, if it means anything, I can try my best to protect you. I care for you a lot." You caressed his hair, sliding your fingers through his thick strands. "I'm here for you, always."

He lifted his head up slowly, glancing up at you with shiny eyes and a weepy nose.

"Do you really mean that?" He blubbered out, gripping onto your shoulders tightly.

You kissed his tears away. "I do. And if anything were to come in between us, I'd do anything in my power to shut them up." You mused, attempting to peak his interest.

"Wowww~ you'd really do that...? For me?" He began to giggle and kick his feet slightly. "That's real cute of you, Y/N." He twirled his hair playfully before grinning lightly.

It seemed like he was back to his normal, goofy self. But you wanted to make sure he was completely, undoubtedly, 100% okay.

You looked down at him. "How about we go outside, yeah? It's nice out." You pointed to your dimly-lit window that was secluded by shades. You continued, "I'm sure we could find someone to mess with..."

"...You know me so well. I'd love to~!" He popped up from your chest to get a better view of you. Finally, you were able to get a good look at him. This was the first time you've seen Kokichi's smile in the past few hours. You couldn't lie and say that you didn't miss it.

You leaned down, kissed him, and smothered him between your chest one last time. After a few moments, you found each other stepping towards the door, hand in hand.

But before you could let the door close behind the two of you, you heard him whisper a quiet, "Thank you, I love you."

#kokichi x reader #danganronpa x reader

[underdark-dreams]

Can you please talk about your writing! how you write and revise and where you get your inspiration you are just so amazing! I could use some tips to get my writing to the next level. maybe some fic recs you find inspiring as well? only if you want too.

I sat on this ask for a while to mull it over, so thanks for your patience! I can definitely talk about my general process and link some fics that have inspired me.

I've also answered some other asks about writing process and technique. You can read those here if you like:

Emotional and feelings-focused writing

Writing descriptively

Fic writing: general process

First, it's good to have your opening and your ending in mind before you start. Even if it's just:

OC walks into Sorcerous Sundries

Rolan and OC fall asleep together

If you have the bookends, it's a lot easier to find the story's beats in the middle. (Or decide that you can't find the path from A to B after all & need to change one of them around)

Once I have those two down, I usually write out the main beats of the story next. These will be the parts that excite you most as a writer!! Like, they make you giddy to write about! Getting these down on paper has ALWAYS given me a burst of momentum to get through the drier/connecting bits.

So I encourage you to write out the story events/scenes that make you most excited first. Exposition will come later! Don't worry about 'setting things up' right now, unless you really want to start there. Remember that your first draft only has to make sense to you.

Inspiration

Damn if I could bottle the answer to this one, I'd be set for life! lmao

A lot of people start writing first and find the inspiration along the way. It's a valid and effective method!

I usually wait for ideas to come to me first, and they usually come when I'm totally disconnected from my writing computer. I swear, my strongest ideas for a fic setup or interesting scene always come when I'm at work or vacuuming or some crap

Best advice I can give is to keep a notes app on your phone or something similar. Rotate your characters around in your mind while you're doing other random life things, and good ideas will usually come to you. Jot down the framework or some dialogue or whatever strikes you before you forget it, then revisit it when you have more time.

Revising and editing

I'm one of those writers who edits a ton as they go, instead of drafting out a story and revising in one go. So this part is kind of difficult for me to answer...the two processes are unfortunately so interconnected in my head!

The main thing is to make sure you give yourself a few days between writing and doing your final edit. Even if you've been revising along the way, taking some time away from your fic lets you gain a fresh perspective.

I will admit, I also keep thesaurus.com open in a tab at all times. Like. I am addicted to finding just the right word

As with all of the above, your mileage may vary! The right technique is the one that gets you writing and creating. 💯

Fic Recs

Here's a list from back in December! Still in love with all of these!

Also:

Deeply and Immovably So by Cometra / @dutifullylazybread - Absolutely required reading for any Rolan x Tav fans! Tav is AFAB/she/her. Darcy's worldbuilding and imagery is incredible, very deep and meaningful. Just all-around excellence!

verso by aes3plex - Zevlor x m!Tav oneshot. This story like...made me understand who Zevlor was as a character. I don't know how else to describe it. Really wonderful backstory threaded through a present-day encounter with some of the best prose ever. Love!

But I will admit, I grew up reading Trek fics, and those stories and writers have stayed with me longer than anything else. I think old fandom + huge universe + writers with sheer decades of experience in fanon have a lot to do with the quality of writing there. Not relevant to BG3 but has definitely shaped how I write today!

#rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams asks #writing process

[answer2jeff]

SICK DAY // CARMEN BERZATTO BLURB

i wrote another blurb to make up for not finishing the smut. please don't murder me >:(

song: forwards beckon rebound.

warnings: lots of detail, kind of a sad blurb :(, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff but like sad, making out, Carmen being protective and clingy and worried, living with Carmen, just very touchy feely, sorta angst.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEEP!

"Ugh..." You groaned, your 6:35am alarm disturbing your sleep after your 6:15 and 6:25 already failed to wake you up. Carmen, while half asleep, tossed and turned beside you. His arms finally found their way wrapped around your waist and pulled your back close to his chest. You took a deep breath, sighing and muttering incoherent complaints.

"You gotta get up, baby." Carmen mumbled, his cheek smushed against your shoulder before he planted a kiss on the nape of your neck. His hands caressed the shape of your torso as your stomach fluttered to his touch. Even after months of living together, months of calling this bed "ours," months of you telling everyone you knew that he was yours.

"I don't wanna." You pouted, pulling the covers back over the two of you. Carmen quickly yanked them back, his other hand still occupied by your waist.

You'd been called into work outside of your business hours 4 different times that week, and your team still hasn't considered having a conference to address your coworkers blatantly not showing up. You were losing sleep, and you waited until the last minute to change out of your work clothes and get ready for bed. Sometimes you even waited until Carmen got home, which could take hours.

"Baby, you've gotta go. What's the matter?" Carmen cooed, picking his head up and trying to look over at you. The sunrise beamed on your face perfectly highlighting your pretty face: the face he was so proud of kissing and cradling like it would break if he ever let go.

You rolled over to face him, and his hands remained on your waist. His fingers moved up and down your hips, rubbing little circles with his calloused thumbs against the small bit of skin that peaked between your shorts and your t-shirt. Your hands cupped his tired face, your eyes gazing back into his.

"I feel like shit, Carmy." You whined, your expression resembling something of a wounded puppy. Carmen only nodded his head as he brought a hand up to soothe your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Carmen mumbled back to you. He knew that you weren't getting enough sleep, that you weren't drinking enough water, that you weren't finishing your plate when he'd take an extra 20 minutes to make sure you'd have real food after work. It didn't matter how many times you told him you were just having "one bad day," he knew this wasn't normal for you.

"I'm just gonna call in sick." You whispered, your eyes shutting again as your head sunk back into your pillows, which smelled like Carmen's cologne. If everyone else thinks it's my job to cover for them, then I deserve a day off, you thought.

"But I'm not gonna be home." Carmen lightly shook your shoulder to get your attention again, his worried eyes focused on you.

"I know. You've got that thing with Syd." You replied, trying to keep your tone calm even if you were slightly annoyed with Carmen's persistence.

"Uh-huh, and then I'm gonna head back to the restaurant 'cause—"

"'Cause Richie's gotta pick up Eva. Yeah, I know. Why exactly is this a problem?" Your eyes shot open, glaring at Carmen. He almost revolted back at your annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, his hand moving down and grazing along your plush thighs. His mouth gaped open, his breath caught in his throat as he tried so say something.

"I don't know. I just—I don't wanna leave you here." Carmen glanced at your lips, his rough hand caressing your arm while the other reached to cup your jaw. He knew you hated being away from him for too long before you moved in together, but it hadn't become an issue for him until fairly recently.

Carmen was used to not seeing you as much as he'd originally hope, but it was like he couldn't go a day without thinking about you these past 3 weeks. He started texting you throughout the day, every 4-5 hours or so, just to check in with you. He never expected you to answer, since he really only did it to calm his nerves between closing hours. Even if you didn't need him today, (which you did) he needed you.

He'd daydream about you rubbing his shoulders or kissing his temples on his smoke breaks when he needed you most. He wondered if you ever thought about him the way he did about you. Whenever he'd get up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, he'd turn his head to see you sleeping peacefully, bundled up in the covers.

He wished he didn't wait until you were asking him why he was so distant to tell you how much he needed you. Carmen thought about that night all the time; the two of you on his couch, lips inches away from each other when he said, "I wanna do this with you. I want you." From that point on, everything seemed to change. Carmen remembered every little thing about you. He never stopped trying to get to know you better; he tried to learn something new about you every single day. Whether it be how you liked your coffee, or how much you loved when he left little notes on the fridge for you.

You placed a hand on the nape of his neck, his gold chain feeling cold against your skin. You melted into his hand as he cupped your cheek, so much that you leaned in and placed your lips on his. Carmen's jaw dropped just a bit, his tongue slipping past your own. You couldn't help but giggle into every open-mouthed kiss when he pulled you on top of him by your waist.

Your legs were straddling Carmen's hips while your foreheads pressed against each other. He whispered "you don't have to go, I love you so much," and even a "I don't want you to go," whenever your lips parted. Hot tears clawed at your waterline. Neither of you knew what came over yourselves, but you needed each other more now than you did any other early morning. Your hands on Carmen's shoulders supported your weight while his rubbed circles on your back.

With your breath hitched in your throat through gentle sloppy kisses and while you tried so hard not to break down into his Carmen's arms, it was like he'd never been more sure about anything in his life.

"I can tell syd I can't make it today." Carmen tried convincing you, planting a kiss on your forehead and earning a smile from you. Your hands grazed over his tattoos, reminding him of how much he missed you. He was willing to bail out to make sure that you'd be okay.

"Thank you, Bear."

"I've got you."

#hope u guys like this little blurb <3 #this made me so sad idk why #carmen berzatto #carmen x reader #carmy x reader fluff #fluff with angst #reposts are appreciated #the bear

[adobe-outdesign]

asking with big puppy dog eyes

have you done le masquerain line?

Surskit! What a cute little thing. It's based off of a water strider, just with a much rounder body. The long legs and the walking on water thing make that much pretty obvious, and while it doesn't have much of a theme beyond that, the markings under its eyes hint at it evolution's theme.

Visually, Surskit is super simple, having very little detail beyond those long legs, which do most of the work in the design. The horn is interesting, though I'm not sure if I like the yellow color or the fact that it looks like hair—I think removing the lines from the bottom and making it a pale blue to match Masquerain's colors would've looked a bit better.

I also think that the pink markings vibrate in a pretty nasty way against the blue base. I like the blue and the pink is needed to match Masquerain, so maybe doing a lighter blue for the body and a pink for the horn would've been the way to go.

Color squabbles aside though, I do like it. Nothing fancy or all that memorable, but it's cute and has a unique inspiration behind it.

For some reason I've seen a fair amount of Masquerain dislike online, which surprises me, as I've always really liked it. I guess it's just because it swaps out bug/water for the much more generic bug/flying, but the design itself is pretty neat. The antennae working as a pair of false eyespots to scare away predators is accurate to many IRL insects, and they're incredibly striking.

I also like it because it's pretty recognizable as a bug, but it's completely abstract in terms of what kind of bug. It's Japanese name and eyespots suggest its based on a moth, but its water-based habitat and ability to fly sideways suggests dragonfly, while its body shape doesn't really look like any actual insect. I like a good abstract monster design like that.

Visually, it doesn't have a ton in common with Surskit, but they do have the same eyes, round head, and horn, which is enough to at least make them somewhat similar. The pink antennae really stand out against the pale body, and the additional pink on the face helps balance things. I do wonder if the wings should've been more round in shape, as they're the only angular part of the design, but otherwise I honestly like everything that's happening here.

I think that if the line could use something, it would be another evolution or something mega-adjacent. There's nothing wrong with the base line, but it is only a two-stager and isn't super crazy enough to stand out relative to a lot of other 'mons. I feel like there's a lot of potential with these guys. For example, here's a particularly great mega design from Reddit:

But regardless, overall, this is a fine line. The water strider theme is unique and Surskit is cute, while Masquerain is pretty memorable with its more ambiguous design and eyespots. As a bug lover, I like them both.

#surskit #masquerain #pokemon #pokemon reviews

[xxfangirl365xx]

JET STAR ONE SHOT FROM MY WATTPAD!!

I love the killjoys sm and i write killjoy fic on my wattpad, but I wanted to share some of the shorter one shots I have written from a collection I made called "Fabulous Killjoy Questions" where it's like a interview thing, where the question is asked to all of them, What is a day you will NEVER forget the answers varied from worst days to meeting a new friend to spending all day with the ones they love.

Here is Jet Star's answer

TW:// VIOLENCE,BLOOD,WEAPONS

Huh, I never thought about that. There have been lots of good days and lots of bad ones. I try to let the good days outweigh the bad. But I'll tell the story people ask about the most, and one that really weighs on me today. The day I lost vision in my left eye was one of the crappiest days ever. We were out on a Drac stakeout, nothing out of the ordinary. Girl had brought a book with her and I was helping her read it. It wasn't school but she picked up fast and she's a great reader now. Anyways, we were sitting around when a shot was fired right above our heads. We got up and there were about ten Dracs...and four of us. We started fighting them and it was going pretty good. I got two of them then on the third they punched me in the chest, completely unexpectedly I fell backwards and had the wind knocked out of me.

They stood over me and fired trying to get a point blank shot in my head. I tried knocking the Blasta out of their hand but it ended up firing right into my eye socket. The adrenaline kept me from feeling it for several minutes. I kicked them back and managed to get up before ghosting them. At that same moment Kobra got the last one. I sighed and felt what I thought was sweat dripping down my face and went to wipe it away. I pulled my hand away and saw the blood and that's when I felt it. I sat down and kept wiping the blood off my face, the others had not noticed yet. My hands were shaking and I started to panic as the pain and fear kicked in. It was one of the worst pains I've ever experienced. Kobra was the first to notice.

" Guys! Something's wrong with Jet." He rushed to my side. My hair was in front of my face and he couldn't see what had happened yet. Kobra knelt next to me.

" What's wrong?" He asked me moving my hair to see my face.

" Holy shit! Poison, get the med kit!" He said upon seeing the extent of the injury. I don't think I really said more than a few words at that point. It hurt so bad I couldn't think enough to answer anything they asked. I don't remember a lot right after that. I remember seeing Ghoul who was standing a good distance back from the scene holding Girl who was clearly very upset. I remember Poison pressing gauze into my eye and trying to kick him away from me.

After that I think I passed out for a bit. I remember getting back to the diner where the brothers sat me propped up against the bathtub so they could finish patching up my eye. Poison did most of the work and Kobra was just there for support I guess.

" Want me to tie your hair back?" He asked me quietly. I nodded in response. He got a blue scrunchy hair tie I used when working on the car and put my hair in a loose bun. Poison finished cleaning it out. At this point I couldn't open my eye if I wanted to because it was swollen shut.

" Can you see anything Jet?" Poison asked

I closed my uninjured eye and managed to slightly pry my eye open. Nothing. No light. No shapes. Nothing. Just darkness.

" No." I said. I came to the realization that I was now partially blind and I wasn't even 30.

" I'm- Blind." I said clenching my fists.

Kobra took my hand and un-balled my fists to hold it.

'I'm gonna die aren't I?" I asked knowing that any kind of disability was a major weak point in the zones and most people were easy BL/I targets and didn't live long.

" How can I fight in firefights with one eye?" I asked again while tears poured out of my good eye. (Great I can't even produce tears from that one now)

Poison wrapped his arms around me.

" Jet, I promise you're not gonna die." He said, his voice breaking.

" You'll Still fight as good as before and we won't let anything happen to you." he continued while Kobra squeezed my hand tighter.

" I love you guys." I cried

" We love you too Jet Star." They said almost in unison.

After a few more hugs and reassurance Poison put a sticky patch over my eye until I could get a reusable one. Kobra helped me up and helped me to my bed where I was promptly greeted by Girl. I sat on the edge of my mattress and picked her up to sit next to me.

" You alright sunshine?" I asked

She sniffled before turning to hug me. I hugged her back.

" I'm fine. But you're not." she said sadly

She hugged me for a few minutes before I yawned. Near death experiences sure are tiring. She suddenly got up and ran out of the room.

" Huh... That's weird." I thought while taking off my shoes before laying down.

A few seconds later she came running back in with her teddy bear and hello kitty blanket

She climbed in bed next to me and held out the bear.

" Ghoul helped me do this." She said, showing off the piece of fabric stuck to the bear's eye.

" He looks like you, so you won't be sad." She said proudly

Suddenly I didn't feel too bad about my eye. I smiled and kissed her forehead.

" Thank you." I said

" You're welcome." She said laying the bear next to me and covering me in the hello kitty blanket

" Berry will keep you company." she explained

" Have a good nap Jet. I love you." she said before running off again.

While that was a pretty crappy day I am so grateful to have my little found family to look after me in the worst situations. I know I can always count on them.

THE END! I'll post other ones here too, but if u wanna read ahead my wattpad in linked on my pinned post (:

#my chemical romance #mcr #gee way #gerard way #g way #mikey way #ray toro #frank iero #Danger Days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #party poison #kobra kid #jet star #fun ghoul

[punsmaster69]

9/JAN/20XX

been a minute since i stayed in my room all day by myself.

once upon a time, that was a pretty common occurrence.

and maybe i still won't, but it's how i've spent today so far.

feels a bit different now that i'm actually lifted off the ground.

while stretching out as much as i could, i accidentally knocked something off the bed with my foot. lazily rolling over to see what it was, there was no real intention in me to get up and grab it.

a stuffed plush of a bear laid pathetically on its face.

i glanced back at the other stuffed animals on the end of my bed.

"...but these ones feel special for some reason."

"must be the fabric quality."

..that's what i'd thought the day she won them for me, right?

they're not particularly notable in quality, in honesty.

still, they do feel special.

sliding off the bed and landing on my feet next to the bear, i lifted it to meet my face.

the stuffed animal's beady eyes, obscured partially by fur, returned my stare.

"you're only special because of her, huh?"

i can tell myself i'm not a stuffed animal person.

i'm not the type.

i'm not a sentimental guy.

and it'd probably be true,

if it weren't for her.

the other plush creatures had been arranged by size at the foot of my bed, resting against the baseboard.

the doing of a neater skeleton than i.

and, the un-doing of a messier skeleton than he.

sitting myself in front of the wrecked arrangement, i tried to recreate how they had been previously.

two equally exaggeratedly fat animals start the line off at the largest size - differently colored chickens.

floor bear is the dead-center of the grouping. it's got longer brown fur and a small gold ribbon tied into bow around its neck. the bow and the animal's eyes are somewhat obscured by the fur length.

then, a creature i can't quite determine between raccoon and squirrel which it might be.

either or, whatever that one is has a little fall cardigan on.

smallest, final of the line, is a something that is decidedly not an animal.

stuffed shape is more fitting, it being a heart; that kind of semi-shiny, soft material.

"I never want to be ap-heart!"

reads the front.

the embroidered font is fancy and silvery.

texturally, the words are rough.

really, they're the exact quality one expects from festival booth prizes.

so to be displayed on the end of my bed like this...

it's more a sentiment to the memory surrounding them.

another day like that would be nice. can admit to myself now that i really would enjoy it.

friends can s

the festival setting in particular isn't quite the part i'm thinking about.

where around here could we

....

properly seated, the stuffies feel like an audience in a way i hadn't noticed before.

on the other hand, putting them anywhere but on my bed feels like disrespect.

for now, i'll turn them the other way.

——

turning them away feels wrong in a way i'm not sure i could specify if i tried, so i rotated the bear back to me.

it's a show of innocence.

of normal-ness.

friendshipness.

(the friendship-adjectives are getting out of hand.)

i held my hands up to further prove to the inanimate object that innocence.

i put them back down because hands don't have anything to do with this.

"you're a gift from a friend. no other way to see it."

not entirely sure at this point whether it was really the bear i was convincing - or entirely sure why i was bothering doing this to begin with - i moved on.

...

i already noted the amount of "friendship" adjectives i've been coming up with over time to excuse things.

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

sure.

unspecific enough.

"friendship" is a nice label you can put over things that you don't wanna give any 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 labels to.

labels feel like making a choice.

labels feel concrete.

labels feel like 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

and, uh.

you know something?

never have been the kind of guy to act first.

another thing calling it "friendship" is good for is...

can't call it "cowardice" when i won't vocalize (or similar) what's occupying my mind

if it's still called "friendship."

maybe the fact that i'm trying to justify it at all should bring light to somethin'...

but that kind of self awareness is reserved for therapy calls.

and i'm hanging up the phone for now.

#undertale #journal #sans #toriel #soriel #the actual worst logic ever seen

[inkfamy]

You're the person who said we're shipping First Aid with Bruticus now right?

If Bruticus is obsessed with First Aid how does he react to Defensor? Does he just latch on to Defensor's left arm and refuse to let go? Does he go bananas and demand his wife back? Do they walk off into the sunset holding hands?

Also, have the Decepticons ever tries getting a regular ambulance and convincing Bruticus that it's First Aid?

Hello! I'm so sorry for letting this ask languish in my inbox for a month, my brain is made of spaghetti. I am absolutely ecstatic to be the Bruticaid Guy.

I have been percolating on a Bruticaid fic and here's the things your questions alongside the other things swimming around my brain have turned into:

Personally I think Bruticus's feelings of love and affection aren't (initially) very well developed. He feels some kind of possessiveness and protectiveness over his components, because he needs them and knows he couldn't exist without them, and he understands loyalty in the form of his (forced) loyalty to Megatron and by extension the Decepticon Cause. To begin with, he doesn't fully understand love as much more beyond possessiveness and loyalty; he only processes his feelings as a desire to Have this new component, which must be his because why else would he Want it.

I think he's very jealous of Defensor when First Aid is attached, and he mostly wants to get First Aid detached so he can Reclaim His Property. Defensor likely feels a similar way, enhanced by the fact that the Protectobots as a gestalt are very close to one another and none of them would want to see First Aid in the hands of a Decepticon, whether that Decepticon likes him or not. Cue a lot of violent combiner clashing.

I've been thinking SO MUCH about the next part. We are talking G1, so whacky hijinks must ensue. The Decepticons initially just steal a regular ambulance, and Bruticus realises it's not alive as soon as he gets his hands on it. Insert tantrum. Their next step is trying to pass off a Decepticon as First Aid; Dead End gets painted red and white because he's just about the right shape and he's part of a gestalt and maybe that's what Bruticus find so appealing. This one takes a bit longer to work out: probably a few days before the false First Aid is revealed because poor Dead End got dropped in a river and all his paint washed off or something. Even bigger tantrum.

The Decepticons probably get desperate enough that they nab another Earth ambulance, smuggle it to Vector Sigma, and have it brought to life in the hopes that the resulting Decepticon will be a suitable distraction for Bruticus. The poor bot gets called Last Aid, and his only purpose in life is to be a cute little boyfriend. He's a triple changer and turns into an ambulance and a left arm, but he doesn't have a gestalt to bond too.

Last Aid ends up being pretty much Shattered Glass First Aid: he's a classic evil clone, obsessed with First Aid, the Protectobots, and the Combaticons. There's a bunch of nonsense in having to ensure the Combaticons don't know that Last Aid isn't really First Aid, because Bruticus mustn't know. Last Aid gets mostly ignored and his only assigned mission is "keep Bruticus happy". He is absolutely venomous at this being the purpose of his life; he hates the Decepticons and Bruticus. For a while he probably tries to manipulate Bruticus into idk, stomping on the real First Aid so he can take his place, turns up to cause havoc in the Protectobot base, and is generally a funky evil little guy with a kind of sad backstory (but also he is so very evil).

I don't think Last Aid is very nice to Bruticus, and that's probably what eventually reveals the ploy. Maybe he hurts Bruticus somehow and First Aid finds Bruticus injured, and being First Aid he can't not help, but this giant combiner is kind of shying away from him and waiting to get smacked again. Maybe this is the first moment where First Aid isn't scared of Bruticus, and Bruticus learns what being treated gently is like.

At some point Last Aid probably ends up working with Shockwave to try and take over the Decepticons, or otherwise gets kind of incorporated into their medics team (but isn't allowed to work without Hook there, because he Cannot Be Trusted Not To Do Something Horrible).

#I hope you enjoy this long ramble #bruticaid #bruticus #first aid #maccadam #inky answers

[muzzleroars]

I am obsessed with this acended v1 idea now, a fallen angel and an acended machine!!! Please I want more thoughts on this I’m begging you

(see this!)

I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THEM TOO....i've of course talked about them a bit here, here, and here, BUT this lets me sort of give some miscellaneous thoughts i couldn't fit into those other asks!! of course i'm still formulating this part of the au so things are probably...very subject to change but they're on my mind in a big way....

first is the time gap that sort of happens here, with v1 taking years for gabriel to revive - he departs from hell a few days after its death, but ascending mount purgatory is difficult for a fallen angel, especially as he moves higher and higher. everything becomes more oppressive, his feet growing increasingly heavy as v1's body eventually feels like a lead weight in his arms. crossing lethe is treacherous as such - if he touches its waters, every memory will be wiped from his mind in an instant, and so he's required to leap from one bank to the other (assisted minimally by wings he hasn't taken out in years). and on the other end of eden, its sister eunoe threatens to burn him away (all sin is meant to be forgotten in this river, which would likely be highly detrimental to a fallen angel). so he vaults again, yet this journey was the easy one - he has all of heaven to traverse now, unable to teleport, unable to fly, but still finding some way to move between the spheres.

SO LIKE. THE GAME I GUESS BUT WITH GABRIEL IN HEAVEN KIND OF. he doesn't kill nearly as many angels as v1 does everything in hell, doing everything he in his power to threaten and scare them off rather than engage them for his sake and theirs. gabriel still cares for his old home, harboring no grudges for the people he once deeply loved and would have defended to his own death. yet he won't be stopped, he will kill if it comes down to it, and despite his exhaustion, despite an entire heaven hostile toward his very being, he's only grown stronger as they've become weaker. and so his travels take far more time than v1's descent, yet to find what he's looking for is what truly counts the years - gabriel walks through a ruined, broken heaven, a world no angels have touched since god disappeared, his vast kingdom crumbing outside the small inhabited islands. this is particularly true in the ninth sphere, yet gabriel goes alone into its unknown reaches to find what he needs...and eventually, likely in part following the lead of the other archangels, the others only let him go, let him search. fighting him is no longer worth it, not with the loss of life it incurs, and they see he truly means them no harm if he can help it.

and since those other asks covered the in-between here, risen v1 ideas!!! honestly, if v1 were to receive gabriel's light, it would be surprised how similar this still feels to being a machine - it's no wonder they understood each other so well. it is much better at recognizing emotion in itself and others, and art finally comes much easier for it, but otherwise its major adjustments are more how the divine interacts with the mechanical. v1 can now imbue things with light too, much like the ferryman's cloth but MUCH more powerful. v1's definitely already been given to playing with hell mass, but it absolutely panics when it does so, the same as it always has...and then it starts walking around!!!! it's alive!!!! it blasts it, instantly, but then it happens again and again and!!!!!! gabriel comes home one day to find a bunch of weird....bugs???? running around as v1 sits there in the middle of the floor, shaping yet another little creature in its hands for experimental replication purposes. the rest of the day is spent reckoning with v1's ability to grant life and gabriel stressing the GREAT responsibility of that - he is firmly against hell mass pets while v1 wants to make spore in real life.

in the same vein, there is simply a period where v1 is incredibly destructive. it always has been, naturally, but this is much less controlled, running loose with its new abilities and hurting itself quite severely more than once. there are times the power stresses its body to breaking point as v1 overuses it, leading to break downs that bring back a lot of bad memories for gabriel. however, on the flipside, their sparring matches are absolutely on another level for both of them now - v1 learns gabriel's old tricks, teleporting and using the light to construct any weapon it wants (it's VERY creative there lol) while gabriel is now a demon that could easily rival lucifer in his raw power and command of hell energy. they both feel a new burn fighting one another, something in their natures now antithetical to another; v1 feels the sullied corruption of a fallen angel's claws while gabriel's frozen body is electrified with molten gold every time he's struck by v1's light. and they're both absolutely wild for it lol after all this time, a new, almost forbidden dimension has been added to their battles and their love. ghosts of those feelings inhabit every touch as well, like a lingering threat for both of them for some time, and they both delight in it. they've got to be careful overdoing things for a bit because of it lol

#really im mostly thinking about v1 making spore miniatures #it's going to create a new hell ecosystem #consisting entirely of fucked up little guys #releasing them in the layers it thinks they'll like the most #while gabriel is like STOP. STOP IT!!!! #cake answers #v1 #fallen gabriel #rise and fall au

[imtrashraccoon]

I've only ever seen the whole collar thing done in Swapfell so I'm curious what your opinions are on that sort of thing?

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 10: Dress Up

You exited the bathroom and were about to go downstairs when you encountered Papyrus on the balcony. He was leaning against the railing and while he appeared to be just hanging around, you got the feeling he had been waiting for you because he wasn't the type to do nothing.

He straightened up and smiled when you noticed him. "I Have A Question For You, " he said casually.

You quirked an eyebrow at his slightly odd behavior but you were curious where this was going. "Um, sure. What's your question?"

"Were You Ever The Type To Dress Up Back On The Surface? Such As For Special Occasions?" he asked.

Now that was a bit of an odd question, but you didn't see the harm in answering. "Well yeah, but it wasn't ever really a spontaneous decision. Most of the time it was just for specific events like picture day at school, weddings I went to, graduation from both high school and then college, and of course, all the job interviews I had to go to."

Papyrus seemed thoughtful but didn't respond right away.

"As you can see," you added, gesturing to your current 'Just Woke Up Like This Outfit' - Sweater and Leggings Addition. "I don't usually make it a daily habit to wear fancy things.

He nodded and a slight smile flickered across his face. "Then I Hope You Do Not Mind, But I Got You Something." He pulled a small white box from his pocket and held it out to you.

Curious, you accepted, but quickly realized that it felt very similar to the kind of box that jewelry comes in. Papyrus was waiting for you to open it though, so with some trepidation, you carefully lifted the lid off of the box.

Inside was an admittedly gorgeous choker necklace. The main band was made from black velvet and there was a separate smaller band made from a delicate gold chain, which was secured to the clasps and at both sides of the centerpiece. Set into the center of the velvet band was a brilliant diamond shaped red gem, although you couldn't be certain what kind.

To say you were stunned was an understatement. This was clearly a pretty expensive piece of jewelry and felt rather personal. It took you a moment to even find the words to say, because while you certainly loved it, you were unsure if you should accept something like this from him.

"Papyrus..." you started to say as you tore your gaze away from it and back to him. "This is...beautiful. But are you sure?"

He smiled warmly and stepped slightly closer. "I Am Sure, Precious. I Have Come To Really Care About You And It Is Tradition To Give A Collar To Loved Ones. So, I Want You To Have This." He gently took one of your hands in his own as he spoke.

You glanced down at the necklace again, your brow furrowing slightly. "Could you explain your tradition to me then?" you asked quietly.

"Of Course I Can."

Apparently, this necklace, or collar as Papyrus had called it, was as much a symbol of commitment as it was a statement piece. While the concept was slightly similar to a promise ring, with how intrinsically dangerous Monster society was, it also served as a way to protect prospective partners from harm. It was complicated, but you thought you understood the basics at least.

This was Papyrus' way of asking to become more serious. He wanted to protect you and he was willing to stand up to anyone who might object to your presence, despite the fact that humans had been condemned to death so long ago. He didn't care that you weren't a monster. He'd fallen for who you really were inside.

You were quite touched. You'd never had anyone care for you like this before. So how could you not accept? A part of you wasn't sure about becoming attached, as you really didn't belong here and still intended to try to leave one day. Still though, why shouldn't you indulge a little bit? You deserved to be happy and being with him definitely made you feel happy.

After Papyrus finished his explanation, you both stood there silently. While he was waiting for your response, you were trying to figure out how you actually should respond.

Finally, you looked up at him again and smiled slightly. "I can tell how important this is for you. While I'm a bit worried about what this could mean in the future, I can't deny that I feel the same way. I care a lot about you, Papyrus."

He seemed rather relieved to hear that, although his relief was quickly replaced with joy. He smiled so genuinely that any doubt you'd had in the moment, seemed to vanish completely.

"May I?" he asked and reached for the box.

You nodded and let him fasten the collar around your neck. It fit snugly, but not uncomfortably so, and the velvet felt much softer than you'd thought it would.

Papyrus embraced you warmly and rocked you back and forth in his arms. "There Is One Thing I Need You To Promise Me, Precious," he said quietly.

"What's that?" you asked.

"If You Ever Go Outside, Promise Me You Will Never Take This Off. I Cannot Guarantee Your Safety If You Do And I Cannot Bear The Thought Of Something Happening To You. Do You Understand?"

You nodded, "I understand."

Truthfully, you weren't currently interested in just exploring the Underground. You needed to be there for Frisk afterall and you knew that staying with the brothers was the safest place to be. So, you were content to stay indoors for the time being at least.

"If You Are Alright With It, I Would Enjoy Surprising You With Similar Gifts In The Future."

You chuckled but shook your head. "That's fine, but don't go overboard, okay? We've just started getting to know each other and there's nothing wrong with taking our time."

Papyrus laughed and gently nuzzled against the top of your head. "I Make No Promises, Rihanna..."

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #reader #named oc #the hand we've been dealt #thwbd #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Angst with a Happy Ending, Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Your date goes really, like really, really well with Jake. You learn a lot more about the golden haired pilot.

Masterlist

Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Liftoff

"How do you know Elsa or are you hitting on women who are half your age and out of your league, now?" Jake asks Maverick, the question hitting a little more pointedly than simple small talk. Jake has his hand on your bare back in what comes off as a territorial move and it feels like the sun is radiating from within him where his skin touches yours. The tension between the two men mounts and you decide to intercede.

"Jake, I know Maverick from work. We've worked on a few projects together at the Skunk Works. Mav, this is that friend I'm meeting for drinks. Hit me up for that debrief, okay?"

Mav nods in agreement. With that tense exchange over, Jake grabs his beer from a different bartender than Penny. You move to guide Jake to a table in the corner away from the general chaos of the bar. You take your seats and your knees touch his bare legs under the table. You're curious about the friction and tension back between Jake and Maverick at the bar. So, you lob out the question in your usual not so subtle style.

"What's up with you and Maverick? Do you know each other from somewhere? You two looked like two alpha wolves staring each other down."

Jake huffs out a laugh,

"First of all, you look amazing,” he drags his hand from your upper arm down to your hands and you shiver slightly.

“So you think I'm an Alpha wolf?"

He has your hand in his and is gently grazing his thumb across your knuckles.

"You know you’re an alpha male type, I don't think you need me to give you a daily affirmation."

"True, Maverick is training us for our next upcoming mission at Top Gun. I stupidly bet him on the first day that I'd beat him in a dogfight. He kindly handed me my ass and the asses of everyone in the whole squadron."

"What was the bet?"

"200 push-ups."

"Ouch, but they do help keep the gun show in tip top shape," you say as you attempt to squeeze one of his biceps. He laughs, and you continue,

"Only because I've read his personnel file to evaluate if he'd be a good test pilot for one of our projects, that was kind of a silly bet. He's been around the block a few times to say the least."

"I figured that out pretty quick, but enough about Maverick and dirty old men in general, how did your day go?"

“Funny you mention dirty old men,” and you give him an abbreviated version of the Creepy Bill story.

“Sorry you had to deal with that, I’m thinking that devastating men’s egos is kind of your thing. And here I thought I was special.”

He mock pouts.

“Only when the need arises,” you pat his cheek and lean in for a kiss, which he enthusiastically returns.

“Again, enough about dirty old men, how was the rest of your day when you weren’t verbally murdering Bill,” he asks.

"So are we talking about dirty young men then?" you tease.

"Just one in particular, if that's what you want to talk about," he banters back, leaning close into you.

"I'll assume you’re the one we're talking about,” your hand has dipped below the table and is on his thigh, which is rock solid like the rest of his body,

“The rest of my day has been pleasant, the bike ride was awesome although my quads are a bit sore. Talked with Lydia and learned even more things about Rooster than anyone should know." His hand now dips below the table to land on your thigh and begins to gently massage the sore muscles.

"I think I have ways of helping you out with that soreness. Yeah, luckily those two cleared out this morning, although I'm treating every flat surface in our living quarters as defiled. God only knows what those two freaks were up to while I was out yesterday."

You snort, coughing a little bit on your drink,

"Yeah, it's probably a better bet to get some disinfectant and maybe some holy water if you ever want to use anything again. Especially the kitchen counter."

He gives you a quizzical look and you continue,

"It's one of Lydia's favorite spots, something about the height being just right."

Jake's lips form into a grim line as he says,

"There goes my appetite and any desire to ever cook there again."

The night continues on with comfortable banter and some good discussions about movies, music, your lives in general, work (as much as you can actually divulge given the top secret nature of your respective jobs), travel around the world, and a smattering of other topics. You notice that you both have been moving closer and closer together during the last two drinks, his arm is around the back of your chair. He moves to get up to get another round and you grab his hand,

"I think I'm done drinking for the night and it's been a long day. Walk me back to my place?"

He settles the tab and you're quickly out the door with his arm around your shoulders.

The walk back is brief, only interrupted by a few stops to kiss, Jake's arm around your waist. You're finally at your door and to your surprise he is the perfect gentleman and has kept his hands to himself. He's pretending to gaze out at the night sky with his hands behind his back. The unlocking and opening of your door brings him back to the present situation. He moves to give you a goodbye hug and you catch his arms before he can complete the embrace and slide his hands down your sides to your hips.

"Would you like to come inside, Jake?" you ask, biting your bottom lip in a move that Jake clocks.

"I would like that very much, Elsa," he responds, his smile wide.

He steps inside and you shut the door, as you hang up your purse he is behind you brushing your hair to the side and kissing the back of your neck. Trailing his fingers down your bare back he leans to whisper,

"I really want to take you to bed, but I'm following your lead here. You control the pace and how far we go."

"There's a reason I invited you in and it wasn't to show you my stamp collection," you joke, leaning back into his chest. He laughs at the thought and briefly asks,

"Do you have a stamp collection?"

"No stamp collection but a very big inviting bed that I would very much like to ride your cock in among other things, most of which involves that arrogant mouth of yours and did I mention your cock?"

This is the all clear he has been waiting for and he spins you around and slowly backs you up to the wall, placing one of his muscular thighs in between your legs. You sink down to grind on it as your clit and pussy need something, your dress rucking up your hips. Leaning down he gives you a kiss that takes your breath away. You assumed prior to getting to know him that he’d be a lazy or uncaring lover, like someone who granted the privilege of being fucked by him, but the slow an careful way he is biting kisses down your neck and the reverence with he slips the dress strap off your shoulder as his lips slowly follow shows he's a patient and attentive lover. He is pulling up your skirt ever so slowly inching his hand towards your heat. His lips brush up against your ear and whisper,

"As much as I want to get my cock involved right away, you’ve got to get off at least twice, anything else would be a blow to my ego.”

You laugh at his ego comment, but your laughs are quickly replaced by breathy moans as he has slipped the other strap off your shoulder and is now sucking and nibbling at your breasts and nipples holding them in his large hands.

He finds the zipper to your dress and it's on the floor leaving you only in your black lacy boy shorts. Stepping back he holds your hands to check you out. A low whistle emits from him right before he says,

"God damn, you are so fucking hot. Turn around so I can see the whole package."

You oblige him with a slow turn till you're back facing him.

He pulls you towards the couch. As he sits down he pulls you down so you are straddling his lap. It's your turn to do some undressing and you pull Jake's shirt off to reveal a chest and abs sculpted by the masters. Running your hands down each muscle appreciating his broad chest. You start grinding on his hardness straining against his khaki shorts. The next thing you know you're being flipped with surprisingly little effort so your back is now against his chest, bare skin gliding against each other. His hands slide up to cup your tits, lightly tugging and pulling on your nipples. A breathy sigh escapes your lips, as Jake moves one hand farther down to toy with the waistband of your underwear. The other snakes up to cradle your cheek, titling your face towards his, lips towards his. The hand at the waistband of your underwear slides under the lacey fabric, one finger tentatively dips into your pussy and you hear him hiss with pleasure as he figures out how wet you are.

“God damn, baby, you are so ready.” He works your clit with his broad fingers for a few minutes, calluses of his fingers from hours in the cockpit at the controls delightful each time he circles your clit. You have your head turned to catch his lips as you begin to moan with each revolution of his fingers. The familiar tightness starts to build in your belly as you ascend towards your orgasm. Abruptly, he stops and moves depositing you on the couch. Kneeling down, Jake pulls your underwear off and puts them in his pocket, and with a wink says,

“For later.”

He starts at your feet slowly kissing his way up your leg to where your tattoo of a clematis vine starts just above your right knee. He follows it with his tongue over and around your thigh, the stubble on his face gently scraping the skin as he continues on his exploration course. His tongue is rounding the last turn of the tattoo just under the cheek of your ass when he gives you a playful nip, earning a squeal from you.

He continues up from your thigh following the leafy green foliage to the end. Just under your navel is a final clematis flower. He lets out a slight laughing huff from between your legs,

“Now this is a treasure trail I want to follow again and again.”

The distance that his tongue is from your clit and pussy is so small that you can feel the puffs of air as he talks.

“Please, please use your tongue for something good,” you whine with need.

Again you feel his laughter in the form of warm waves of air.

“Is that an order or are you begging me?”

You can feel the cockiness radiating from where you know he’s smiling between your legs.

“I have to know how good it is first to determine if I’ll beg for it later.”

And with that small challenge he engulfs your clit with his mouth and his tongue starts a slow lazy rhythm around your clit, but not near enough to get you off. His tongue wanders down to your pussy and dips in, a shocking long way in. Enough that you wonder just how long his tongue is. The thought doesn’t stick around for long as he has moved his attention back to your clit and replaced his tongue with one of his long thick fingers and then another one. The man is a maestro of the tongue and your orgasm starts building rapidly deep in your belly as your moans get louder and breathier.

“Oh my god, Jake, that’s it, please don’t stop, right there," you moan, threading your fingers through his hair.

It’s all incoherent sex babble coming out of your mouth because your brain is short circuiting of how good this feels. One long suck of your clit followed by him gently clamping it between his lips and you are gone. You vaguely hear a scream of pleasure, but you can't tell if it’s your own. This orgasm radiates out from your clit in waves and you clamp down on his fingers so hard, he whimpers as he puts the thought together that you'll be doing that around his cock soon. He keeps his fingers in you and lazily licks around your now insanely super sensitive clit as you ride the waves and falls of your orgasm. You are, for once, without a witty retort or any coherent thought to respond, you're just trying to catch your breath, he slips his fingers out of you. Whining at the loss of that fullness and you sit up to look at him. When Jake puts his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean making eye contact with you the whole time, you completely forget what you were going to say. The sight elicits another moan from you.

Jake stands up and offers his hand to you and pulls you up, close to his chest. Immediately, you are kissing and you can taste yourself on his lips. A swipe of your tongue over his chin where it is still dripping from that earth shattering orgasm pulls a deep guttural groan from him. Taking his hand you lead him to your bedroom, a short distance in your small house.

With a gentle push to his firm chest he falls onto the bed. Jake is laying on his back in all his muscled glory, arms bent back behind his head, showing off his amazing arm muscles, and looking very pleased with himself.

“You’re looking a little smug there, Jake. Like you took some satisfaction in your work back there. I feel that to properly evaluate we’re going to have to run a few more scenarios,” you tease, kneeling down on the bed.

“I wasn’t the only one who took some satisfaction,” he says even more smugly, his hands landing on your hips as you lean over him. He pulls you down for a deep kiss that almost distracts you from your mission to see him completely naked.

You quickly undo his belt and pull his shorts and underwear off in one movement. His cock is hard and ready for any touch as it slaps against his stomach when his underwear comes off. Your mouth waters at the thought of sucking his cock as you slide up his legs and take his cock in your hands. You realize that you can barely get your hands around him and your confidence wanes a little as you try to determine if you can actually fit him in your mouth. Undeterred, you hold his cock up and start licking up from his balls tracing every vein on the velvety smooth skin. Just as you make it to the top and start to pull the head of his cock in your mouth, Jake mumbles out a feeble,

“Wait, wait, one second.”

Your hands still as you look up to see him propping himself up on his elbows. With one swift move he catches your arms and hauls you alongside him. He gives you a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, before talking again.

“You’re too good at that and I have bigger plans for the rest of the night besides me coming in your mouth. We need to have a little discussion here. Birth control?” he asks.

“IUD, just got tested at my annual appointment a month ago, clean slate. You?”

He is nibbling your ear when he says,

“Just got tested for this mission, all clear."

"Good, condoms are in the top drawer of the nightstand. I think there should be one big enough.”

He laughs as he leans over and opens the drawer.

"Again, you're doing wonders for my self esteem, sweetheart."

He rifles through the few condoms in the drawer when there is an even louder guffaw, as he picks up one of the condoms and hold its up,

"Oh, you poor woman, a slim fit?"

You roll your eyes,

"Yeah, that didn't last long. Wasn't even good at giving oral, unlike some people."

He shakes his head, throwing the condom back in the drawer and selects the correct size. Quickly he opens the foil square and rolls the condom on his hard length.

He swiftly turns you so he is leaning over you and your back is flat against the cool sheets. He spends a little time sucking at your nipples before he grabs his cock and rubs it against your wetness making you moan and thrust your pelvis up to meet him.

"You want this, Elsa?" he asks.

"Please fuck me, Jake," you respond back. He slides in ever so slowly allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck, not to be cliche. But God damn, you're big," you moan out breathily. Jake just smirks in response before leaning down to kiss you hard. The walls of your pussy start to spasm in response to the slow glide of his cock. Jake sets a slow and almost frustratingly slow pace before he leans in to whisper into your ear,

“How do you like it, Elsa? Slow and sweet, fast and hard, tell me what you need, darling.”

You nearly come undone with the thoughts of either scenario and clench around Jake. You manage to squeak out,

“Hard and fast, this time.”

Jake needs no more direction; he leans back and picks up your legs and places one over each of his broad shoulders. His thrusts come fast and deep and somehow he manages to get his fingers over your clit bringing your orgasm even closer. You can tell he’s close to losing control with the words that are coming out his mouth, you wouldn't call them thoughts, they’re too incoherent to be anything else than his stream of consciousness right now.

“Fuck, so good, so tight, you’re amazing,” come dribbling out his mouth along with absolute moans of pleasure.

“Oh god, I’m getting close. This pussy is too good. I can feel you getting there, come with me, Elsa.”

He adjusts his pattern on your clit and you shatter underneath and around him, your whole body pulsating with each clench of your pussy. Jake's thrusts speed up and start to falter as he gets closer to falling off the impending cliff.

"Fuck, so good, fuck, fuck, fuck,"

Jake lets out one last strangled cry as he comes undone. He puts your legs down and leans down to kiss you with him still inside. The aftershocks of your orgasm keep coming and he puts a firm thumb on your clit which deepens the resounding waves of pleasure making you clench harder around his cock eliciting more groans from him. Eventually, he slowly pulls out and you whimper at the loss of him. He has rolled over on his back and with one armed tucked under his head and he is also catching his breath. You roll over to your stomach and lean down to kiss him thoroughly and deeply in the post sex glow.

You whisper gently in his ear,

“That was so damn hot that I’d beg for it any time you want to give it to me.”

His cock twitches out of the corner of your eye when he breathily responds,

“You’re going to kill me with that kind of talk, sweetheart. What a way to go.”

You give him one more gentle kiss and he stands up to take care of the condom as you head to the bathroom.

A little while later, after you return to the bedroom, Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed looking a little out of place with his underwear and shorts on his hand. The look on his face shows that he doesn’t know if he should go or stay and the lack of clear direction is a little disconcerting to him. You tell him,

“I’d love you to stay the night, but I’ll have to warn you that I have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to drive to Bakersfield tomorrow for work.”

He laughs,

“That could work, what’s the ass crack of dawn for you?”

“I’ve got to be on the road by 7 am, so I’ll probably get up around six.”

“That’ll work for me, I’ve got to report by 8 am tomorrow so I can shower here with you, and you can drop me at the main gate on your way out of town, if that’s not inconvenient for you. I can always walk.”

“You think I’d make you do the walk of shame? I’m not that cold-hearted,” he raises his finger in protest,

“Despite what my name implies. That will work well.”

With that you crawl into bed and settle your head on his chest and his arms around you. It doesn't take long to fall asleep to the soft beat of Jake's heart under your cheek.

Chapter 7

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#top gun maverick #hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #top gun smut #top gun fanfiction