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ivymarquis · 5 months

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So I was being a lil creep on @391780's blog and saw she'd made a comment about how {Valeria}'s so hot and so mean i just know she'd call a fat y/n something fucking terrible and make fun of her size. and whilst Imma not write any body shaming because that's fucked, my brain did black out at the mention of Valeria being terrible and wicked to Reader and this is what I came back to;

Mean Girl

Pairing| Valeria Garza x Reader Rating| M Word Count| 1.8l Kinks/Content/Warnings| Their dynamic probably isn't healthy but everything is consensual, chubby reader, anal sex, strap on, begging, punishment, name calling, slut shaming, Valeria is not dealing with reader's shit tonight, pussy slapping, squirting, aftercare

Your mother always cautioned you about bad boys growing up. You took one look at them, decided they weren’t worth the hassle and hit the books.

Which was all fine and well when you finished school with stellar grades and no distracting boyfriends, because it wasn’t boys that caught your attention regardless of if they were bad or not.

Now a mean girl?

As it turns out that is much more your style.

How exactly one ventures down the “mean girl” to “cartel leader” pipeline is a mystery for the ages, but quicker than you can blink one moment you’re being introduced to El Sin Nombre’s sicaria, and the next you’re her spoiled little house cat.

Unlike the average house cat though, there’s minimal tolerance for any foolishness or shenanigans in Valeria’s household.

She doesn’t expect much beyond your blind obedience to her every whim, and you’ve got hearts for pupils every time you look at her. Absolutely no fucking regard to the fact that you’ve gone from no relationship experience through your schooling years and gone head first into the deep end with no life jacket with Valeria Garza of all people.

That formal education isn’t doing you much good now.

Not that either of you are complaining.

Valeria isn’t difficult to live with once you learn her quirks and idiosyncrasies. She is consistent in her expectations- sets the rules, and accepts no deviations from them. Anything less is punished.

Now, considering the shit she’s probably complicit in if not outright done herself, you get off virtually scott free from punishments compared to others. You’ve still got all your fingers, limbs, and teeth thank you very much.

But that still leaves a whole spectrum of punishment.

You’ve been on your best behavior- usually stumbling into corrections on accident and learning quickly what mistakes to not make again.

By now you’ve been with Valeria long enough that new relationship jitters shouldn’t be fluttering in your belly every time to set your eyes on her. And yet- She’s just sublime. You can’t help yourself.

As someone who survived childhood and navigates adulthood by being polite and pleasant (occasionally to your own detriment), it is awe inspiring watching her enter a room and immediately take control of it. So far as anyone around her can tell, the world does in fact revolve around her and anyone stupid enough to not understand that is reminded of their place immediately.

You know that you’re not exempt from the firm grip Valeria keeps on her surroundings, but you manage to muck it up and overstep your place anyway.

“What’s that pretty brain of yours thinking about, Bunny?” she asks one night as the pair of you are reclined on the bed. It’s fairly obvious that she’s the subject of your current thoughts, looking at her like she hung the moon.

You don’t think much of it as you reply “Just thinking I have no idea what you see in me sometimes.”

Valeria makes her adoration of you painfully obvious so it’s not like you have reason to question it, but the pair of you are such polar opposites in every category, from build to disposition, that you’re the pinnacle of opposites attract. You wouldn’t survive a day in her world if it wasn’t readily apparent to anyone who might interact with you that Valeria will personally deliver their severed heads to their grandmothers’ doorstep if they don’t watch themselves. And, well- you don’t really do the self-pity thing because you can be hot and fat at the same time, but Valeria is hot in a conventional way that still boggles your mind when her clothes come off.

So yes, for multiple reasons you often find yourself wondering how the hell you managed to pull her?

The previously soft, bemused expression on her face is wiped to a cold neutral as her eyes narrow sharply at you. Ah, fuck, you have just enough time to realize you stepped out of line with that comment just as she rolls over and straddles you.

“If I wanted to fuck someone like me, Bunny, I’d just fuck myself. Perhaps you need a reminder of that?”

Next thing you know she’s got your hands bound to the headboard, ignoring the way you tug at the binds and whine as she works her strap inside your lubed up ass.

“Quit fucking squirming,” she sharply admonishes you, one hand gripping the soft flesh of your thigh for leverage as the other circles your clit to make you relax.

The beauty of a store bought cock is it’s the perfect size, part of why you can’t sit still.

As far as punishments go, once again you are getting off incredibly easy (and if you beg very, very nicely and are very apologetic and repentant you will probably get off in the conventional sense too) considering you absolutely love anal, but you’re sure Valeria already has a plan in mind to make sure she can drive her point home. We don’t want to have this conversation more than once, she’ll tell you.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you cum without permission,” she reminds you, ignoring the way you whimper as she pulls her hand away from your clit as she finishes working the length of her strap in, her hips pressed flush to the plush of your ass.

“Valeria, please, I’m sorry,” you start immediately, knowing if you want to wriggle your way back into her good graces the sooner you start pleading the better.

“You’re sorry?” she mocks, ignoring the shiver that runs through you as she pulls out just to press back into you again, “We’ll see.”

Her thrusts are slow and measured with just enough force you’re seeing stars as chills run up and down your spine.

“I don’t know where the fuck you get off,” she criticizes in time with the wet clap of her hips to your ass, “questioning me of all people.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” well, didn’t realize she’d take it like that but she’s making it abundantly clear now.

“You didn’t mean to?” she parrots back cruelly as you whine when she presses up against something inside you that has your leg shaking. “You’re such a little slut, look at how wet your cunt is,” Valeria degrades with her eyes glued between your legs, the way your skin glitters in the dim lighting from your own wetness. There’s very little you wouldn’t be willing to do to get Valeria to pay attention to your empty cunt right now, but you also know you’re on thin ice and don’t want to do anything to cause cracks to form in the ground under you.

Your focus drifts towards the knot winding itself up in your abdomen, getting bigger and threatening to grow all consuming with each knock of her hips. Your hands twitch in their binds, tugging uselessly on reflex.

“Since you’re apparently too fucking stupid to remember the rules, I’ll make this simple for you,” she starts shortly- never mind that there’s several pieces of paper hung up on the wall to prove you’re not stupid. “My decisions are without fault- ever. You do what you’re fucking told, when you’re told. I don’t keep you here to think. I keep you here because I like watching the way your whole body bounces on my cock, got it?” The force behind her thrusts increases in increments as she speaks.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble both in pleasure from your ass getting pounded and to answer her. Maybe with someone else the sting of being called stupid (or a slut) would- well, sting. But when you mind your place and the relationship is functioning like it should, you’re happily in a place where you can turn the white noise in your brain off and just follow orders like a good girl. Good girls don’t think, they just do what they’re told.

“I’m sorry” you plea again, hoping that she’ll be more magnanimous now she’s said her peace. “I’m sorry Valeria I won’t do it again,” you promise.

“You’re sorry? Or do you just want to cum?” She lets out an unimpressed huff, hips thrusting in a way that has you squealing and thrashing against your binds.

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry!” It’s embarrassing the way your neglected pussy is dripping down between your legs and God you just want her to ease this unbearable ache inside of you. Your thighs burn from how much they’re trembling as you scramble to appeal to any mercy Valeria has before you cum against your better judgement and really put yourself in a fucking hole.

“Please, please, please- I’ll be good I promise!” you offer desperately. The only thing you can do is focus on breathing, trying with all your might to head off your orgasm.

“Fine,” She sounds exasperated, like she’s doing you such a favor allowing you to cum. “But you take what I give you and you better be fucking grateful for it.” Valeria hisses and no sooner are you nodding your head is she swatting at your cunt- hard.

You yelp at the sudden attention to your clit, and yelp each time she lands another blow to the swollen nub between your legs. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes between how fucking close you are and the sting from her hits.

She’s not entirely without mercy it seems- or she got bored slapping your clit and wants to watch you cum now- as the hand that is striking at you drops to your clit and rubs in tight, short circles just how you like.

Valeria laughs as you flinch in anticipation of the next swing before tensing in pleasure.

You’ve got just enough sense to squeak out “Thank you! Thank you, thank you-” in a mindless babble as your orgasm washes over you wetly. You’re messy when you climax and Valeria loves watching you squirt, evident by her delighted chuckle as you ruin the sheets.

“What kind of nasty whore gets off having her ass fucked, hm? Absolutely shameless,” Valeria goads but you’re fucked dumb and can’t possibly be expected to be paying attention anymore.

Everything gets hazy after that. At a certain point Valeria does decide she’s done with you, pulling out and laughing at how you’re such a twitchy, overstimulated mess.

When you come back to the land of the living, she’s somehow managed to coax you into the tub, the pair of you relaxing in the warm water. She’s got you tucked in between her legs, leaning against her with your nose buried in the crook of her neck.

“You back with me?” she asks, tone soft and gentle as one hand strokes at your shoulder.

“Mhmm,” you hum happily, nosing against her, sated and warm in the tub.

“Good. We’ll see about scrounging up some snacks in a bit, yeah?”

That sounds like a solid plan to you, although at the moment you’re so content in the bubble of warmth she’s got you enveloped in, you could happily stay here all night.

#my writing #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza #call of duty modern warfare #x chubby reader #femslash #cod mwii

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year

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‘’TENSION’’

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

18+

- it’s been a hot hot minute but i’m back (still got exams rip) but i just couldn’t help myself, i’m far too obsessed with Hotch atm. my tortured serious detective heart can’t take it. i deliberately made this so fucking long cause i love the tension before the smutty smut. love u guys i’ll be back more consistently soon xx

The sky turned black and it felt like you lost yourself in the cool damp night, staring at nothing but a blaring white screen sitting at your desk praying for this unnerving blankness to end. Even when flying back and the case is successfully solved and profiled, the paperwork that you promised to Hotch earlier was calling to you and you didn't have the chance to call it a night like your fellow teammates. So you sat hollow-eyed at your desk, writing up the events of today. You did have a choice in the matter though- to smooth over the endless tension with Hotch, your boss. Every time you remember any sort of interaction with him, your eyes crease and your brows furrow involuntarily- it was as if there was a heavy feeling in your chest, not from sadness or insult but a tight frustration you couldn't seem to bury no matter how strong your intentions were.

It was only you here in the bullpen and only Hotch brooding in his office, your glassy eyes flicked every so often to see him through his blinds sitting at his desk. It was so late and your brain was turning to white noise and heavy thumps, your clear thinking was fleeing you every minute you sat at your desk. You pondered walking in and talking to him. Confronting him over the events that sent the frosty tension biting down your spine.

The group sat around, unfocused and loitering from desk to desk discussing anything other than the case at hand which wasn't a prudent choice considering you were the newest addition to the team and you couldn't afford to have a bad rap sheet, especially when your boss was the Aaron Hotchner who has a severe attitude and a nerve made of steel- so if you crossed him, he would make it apparent that your behavior would not be tolerated and if it repeats...the consequences far outweighed the risks. Even though you've been here for a year, the tension between you and Hotch hasn't eased, in fact, they froze over tenfold. But it didn't matter because you were just as bitter. You couldn't help it slip out sometimes, just because you were new it didn't mean that you were a people pleaser that was a doormat to anyone with $800 real Italian leather shoes, namely Hotch’

It was difficult to deny that he was…attractive. He moved in silence and it was deafening, he was cold and distant but your intrigue was impossible to quell- he was hot. And completely unlikeable.

And before you knew it, Hotch was right in front of you, with a discerning and severe look on his face that you couldn't seem to shake. All of a sudden, Prentiss and Reid had wandering eyes that looked around elsewhere as they walked away like children trying to hide. Shit.

‘’Agent, a word please.’’ He instructed in that soft yet firm voice of his, knowing that it wasn't friendly and it wasn't insulting- just so fucking polite. It was in this cool middle ground that was filled with grit and tender resentment- unconventionally paradoxical and entirely inconvenient. You shot Emily and Spencer a worried look and their eyes also mimicked your panic and uncertainty, giving a shrug back at you.

You stood proud, however, squaring your shoulders upright when you followed his lead back up to his office, your only view being the back of his tailored suit. Damn, his shoulders were…broad.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A million self-referential questions flew through your head like a million comets in the sky.

Did you offend him?

Did you make a comment that messed up his view of you forever?

Does he think you can't do your job anymore?

Is he going to transfer you?

Replace you?

Like the polite asshole he was, Hotch left the door open for you and motioned you to take a seat before he was sitting behind his desk waiting to interrogate you and catch you out. You could handle this though, you weren't afraid of him. You sat cross-legged awaiting his charred words but he took a moment to study you.

Hotch wasn't a man that mixed business and his own personal opinion. Subjectivity was the downfall of many leaders of this team before him and he absolutely didn't want anything to change now. This was the sole reason he had been giving you a hard time through the guise of being mistrusting of the newest addition to his team...though it was easy to admit that he didn't trust you, he barely knew you- he glared at you through lifeless and surveying eyes.

‘’I wanted to inform you that your case reports for the previous case haven't been handed to me, the deadline for it was last night and I don't appreciate tardiness.’’ Hotch scolded you with a flatlined voice that was threatening if you listened to it right- you were a profiler, of course, you picked that up.

‘’I completely understand that sir, but I wanted my account to be more detailed and diligent.’’

‘’Why is that?’’ He was inspecting you further and you felt like you were under a microscope.

‘’Because I was the one that shot the unsub.’’ Your voice was heavy even though you knew this wasn't a good excuse. Reid and Morgan once used this excuse to delay the paperwork but it never worked, it only earned them a verbal tongue-lashing on how paperwork deadlines are important as it allows records and cases to be fully sealed, you couldn't move on without finishing them. You internally winced and your neck burned with regret at saying that. It wasn't like this was the first time you shot someone.

Hotch just stared at you, he should be down your throat about these things but he was finding it difficult to draw the line between being your boss and his own personal feelings he was beginning to harbor for you. This all started when you first started a year ago- when you first walked into his office he was taken aback by your hard-angled features and your tight lip, most people who join the BAU have a tendency to fall into two categories with Hotch: completely persistent and overbearing bootlickers that actually defy his orders or moody lone wolves that don't know how to work in a team. You didn't fit into either of those boxes. He couldn't help but align himself with you- as if you were like him. Although what surprised him was that you smiled and laughed in a way that he never did, when you finally were aware of the dynamics of the team, it teased out lightness and ease within you. He'd grown to be fond of your smile, he liked seeing it. Which was odd because when you were with him, your face went hard. Like you were challenging him and his authority.

‘’You're a very talented agent. And an incredibly smart and diligent profiler. You make a very good addition to this team for someone that I haven't worked with for very long but I can't work with people who don't place the same value on paperwork and fieldwork respectively. I'll give you leeway on this occasion but I need you to be good at paper trails as you are on the field.’’

You felt your mouth drop open slightly, like unloose hinges on a door that just got slammed. All the breath was knocked out of your lungs at his not-so-subtle compliment, your ears pricked with heat at the fact that you never heard anything this heartfelt come out of Hotch's mouth, especially regarding you.

‘’Thank you..I-‘’

‘’Please don't blush, the accolade is very much deserved.’’

Hotch was somehow keeping his cool which was a much-needed miracle from the universe. Even though the flush that stained your face somehow made it even more beautiful, he'd like to see that rose pink everywhere else...all over your body. You weren't challenging him now, you were like putty in his hands and it was incredibly jarring to see, but not unwelcome at all. He liked that the one small compliment affected you so, it didn't need to take a profiler to see it clear as day. It was apparent to see that your thoughts were affecting you physically, your thumb was incessantly rubbing the side of your pointer finger- your tell.

‘’I appreciate that Aaron-‘’

‘’-Sir.’’ He reinforced in a thick and heavy voice, correcting the term. You were always supposed to use 'sir' or 'Hotch', you'd never called him Aaron before and your lips curved slightly into a frown

Every time you were getting close to him, he cut you off and built up those walls again. It soured your mood and your brow furrowed again. You got up and leaned in slightly before standing upright.

‘’Sir.’’ You squared your shoulders and readjusted your posture before leaving.

‘’I'll get it finished by tonight.’’ You said huskily, annoyed and frustrated.

What was even odder is that your feet had a mind of their own, the silence was overwhelming you and it felt like you were about to smack your head against a brick wall when you stood outside of his office and knocked.

The tension was taking over you and you needed some form of clarity.

‘’Come in.’’ Hotch stated politely before looking up from his writing and letting go of his pen. You stood there, incredibly confident in your stance and he had to suppress raising an eyebrow.

‘’Y/N. What can I do for you?’’ His voice was low, heady and so damn sexy…almost suggestive.

Just looking at him made electricity shoot through your shoulder blades, his tie was slightly loosened, and his hair was a little more scuffed than usual. Hotch's gaze was scorching, to say the least, it was a complete 360 from the hard discerning eyes he gave you when you were in his office.

‘’Sir, I feel like my work is being compromised.’’ You said very matter-of-factly, arms crossed as you leaned against his door to prove that you mean business, that you were tired of this tap dance with death. Hotch paused to study your statement.

‘’How so?’’

'I'm having trouble handling this tension between you and me.’’ You breathed, finally finding the words that didn't completely reveal how badly you wanted him.

‘’Which kind of tension?’’

‘’You know which one, you're a profiler. Figure it out.’’ You snapped and Aaron was completely taken aback, this was absolutely the kind of attitude that he wouldn't put up with but on this occasion, you seemed desperate and he's never seen you like this before. It wasn't a wake-up call...it was a calling. Hotch just studied your purpose silently- you stood there so sure yet doe-eyed and needy for an answer you had doubts you were going to get from him. He wanted to be honest, so he was.

‘’The kind of tension that makes me want to bend you over my desk and fuck the attitude out of you?’’ Hotch asked you to clarify it for him, just to make you squirm a little more- and like clockwork, you did. He watched your chest swell as you breathed in and out, your eyes widened a little bit but you suppressed it in a second but they were dilating intensely, your brows raised, and your lips parted to let out a sharp breath. The telltale face for shock and arousal. ‘’I don't think you want me to come up with a suggestion on how to help you at all, you've got it all figured out for yourself.’’ Hotch saw right through you, your mind was buzzing with outlines of unfinished plans and outcomes of this entire situation. Right now you could only see one: him fucking you like an animal.

‘’You gonna profile me?’’ Your face was stern but your voice was sweet. Your eyes were begging for him to surprise you and leave you hanging for more.

‘’You want me to?’’ His tone. His voice. It was like pure sex.

‘’Mhm.’’

‘’Come here then.’’ Hotch bit the bullet, he was drunk on this, and he wasn't thinking clearly- but why did it feel like the solution to his problems was becoming clearer and clearer?

Your legs turned to jelly and your knees started buckling in a fit of electric tingles but by some pure miracle, your feet found their way over to Hotch, ending up in front of him behind his desk, eyes locked in a perpetual battle between the tampered down tension and the heady desire

‘’I figured you've outlined a profile of me in your head already.’’ You breathed in an attempt to open up his head for him but like always, he was never revealing his thoughts- he just stared down at you

‘’You pretend you're not nervous around me.’’ He remarked coolly. ‘’You put on a facade that is actually convincing, it's probably an attempt to remain professional but the tension is getting to you, and you hate not having control. What I find interesting though is that you put on this facade but you so shamelessly give me fuck-me eyes when no one else is looking.’’

You remained tight-lipped at his deduction but internally you were losing your mind. ‘’I think I've been pretty good.’’

‘’You are good. But you can't take it anymore.’’ Hotch reaffirmed but then spun it back around on its head.

‘’I can't?’’

‘’You can't. You want me but you don't want to compromise anything, but now the idea of me fucking you is becoming less and less insane.’’ His face was completely serious and your heart was beginning to hammer.

‘’You seem sure of yourself.’’ Who were you kidding? Hotch could see right through you, your confidence was wearing away. He just gave you a small knowing smirk, you liked it when he was flirty (which was the rarest thing on Earth) but then, suddenly, he flipped back to being professional.

‘’So Agent, is there anything else you came to me for?’’. He tilted his head to the side.

He was acting fucking professional- as if you weren't just a few feet away from each other and like the palpable attraction wasn't swinging through the air. You scoffed at his face.

It was late, your inhibitions were fleeing you with every scattered moment. There were so many blips of weakness you were attempting to reign in but you took a deep breath so you didn't crumble under his hard gaze.

‘'I'd like to request a transfer.’’ You blurted without thinking it through. Hotch thought that your face looked defeated.

‘’Transfer? Why?’’ Hotch's brows furrowed and creased at your ask, his lips thinned. He hated the idea of it, but his personal feelings aside, you were an incredible addition to the team- you were bright, insightful, and a necessity. He feels that it would be a big mistake on your part.

But, isn't this right in the long run? This...tension...between you may affect your work in the field. The more you think about it, the less avoidable it becomes.

‘’Or would you prefer a resignation?’’ You joked, your pearly whites peeking through in the light of his office and he thought you looked beautiful under it- though he was slightly irked by your callousness

"Don't give me that.’’ He said curtly and it made your eyes narrow into his; his gaze darkened intensely, and those heady pools of brown were something you could drown in endlessly. You wouldn't mind at all.

‘’Well, I think I've already covered why I want to.’’

Hotch stood silent for a moment.

‘’Come home with me.’’

You hid your shocked face well but your pulse was thundering underneath your increasingly heated skin, you swallowed sharply and your eyes widened a little but still enough for Hotch to catch onto it. Those simple words he uttered made slick form between your thighs already, you couldn't even begin to imagine the physical things he could do to your body to make you feel good.

"Hotch...I-‘’ You breathed, you bit your lip to conceal your bashful expression but the blush and the light dancing in your eyes gave you away. You let out a sharp exhale in a fruitless attempt to attain some sense of dignity but when your gaze met his, you knew he was being perfectly serious and it made you gulp again.

His eyes were eager and you couldn't deny him any longer, even though the idea of him fucking you on his own desk in his own office was something out of a wet dream- you'd settle for some wine at his place. Maybe he could take it as a body shot, the idea made your legs tremble.

The next thing you knew is that his thumb and index finger were hooked under your chin so you could meet the intense stare that you would simply crack under.

‘’Please, baby.’’ Hotch whispered the pet name.

Fuck. That was enough to do you in, enough to make you give into any demand he asked of you. You were actually considering getting on your knees, right here, right now

‘’Okay.’’ Since you agreed, your nervousness seemed to dissipate.

Excited didn't even begin to cover it.

During the car ride back to his place, Hotch had to suppress the urge to let his hands glide over your thighs and clamp onto them. You were wearing a skirt. He could've just easily touched your skin, and let his fingers dance around your panties before slipping them in to see just how wet you really were. But he tampered down the pulsating urge, he kept stealing glances at you. You looked confident now, the woman he's grown to know and work with was here to stay- he'd get that changing in no time. He'd make this whole facade of being a tease shatter beneath your feet, the idea made him smirk and it temporarily occupied his mind while driving. Your air was simply intoxicating to Aaron and it was making him lose his focus on the road.

Neither of you spoke on the way there, and when you both arrived he offered you his hand. Your jaw wanted to fall straight to your feet, fucking Aaron Hothchner, your boss, was offering you his hand for you to hold.

Your tongue glazed over your lips as he lead you to his apartment, mouth salivating with every step. Hotch hadn't felt this strongly about anyone in so long, the tension between you two was just brewing and bubbling and now neither of you had the means to stop it- it was all just waiting to burst into an eruption of passion.

You were both experts in behavior. You both wanted each other, it was clear as fucking day. But you were both stubborn and unmoving. Unrelenting. Perfect.

Hotch opened his door and the ambient lights encompassed the entirety of the apartment, it was nicely furnished and it was apparent that he was a clean freak. It translated from work to home. Hm. Note taken. He closed the door and you both flung your bags into a dark corner, you didn't know what to say or do so you just flirted with him tirelessly.

‘’Wine?’’ Hotch offered, his face brightening just a little. He watched intently as you breathed and leaned in on his kitchen counter, discarding your jacket

"Hm. I drink red.’’ You lied.

‘’No, you don't.’’ His voice was low and gritty but it was evened out with a knowing smirk.

‘’Perceptive.’’ You stated impassively, not trying to indicate that you were affected by the fact he noticed your habits as if it wasn't his job to do so. Hotch poured out white wine for you and fixed himself a bourbon.

You watched and surveyed him with a certain and unmissable fixation. He shrugged off his blazer and started loosening up his tie and undid the first button but he didn't fully take it off. Lord. He was fit as fuck, his broad shoulders...his arms...his fucking hands. You felt so safe with him, it's not like you needed his protection but while you were in his presence, you felt secure and looked out for. The thought made you bite your lip.

Hotch sauntered back over to you with an aura of confidence, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. He stood leaning opposite you after he handed you your glass. The ambient light made his hard features even more chiseled, it was almost romantic.

‘’So, did you want me here to ply me with alcohol just to make me change my mind?’’ You flirted as you took a scarce sip.

‘’No, just wanted you to be mine for a night.’’ He said honestly and it made your thighs clamp together but your expression was still that of smugness

‘’Hm. Since we're being honest now…’’ You started brusquely. ‘’I think I've wanted you to fuck me since I first walked into your office.’’

Hotch raised a discerning brow at you due to such a brash statement, it was unexpected by not surprising. ‘’Well, each of my thoughts about you…have been improper.’’ He said truthfully, his lips curling slightly.

You always seemed to have a knack for disarming him and he'd be a bold-faced liar if he said he didn't enjoy it. But his mind was wandering.

He was distracted with the last case the team took, he was concerned with the idea of you at the center of it- obviously. You partook in the role of pretending to act like the unsub's preferred victim, using the good old tactic of flirtation during the interrogation in which Hotch stood outside looking in through the glass. You hated appealing to this sadistic prick's preferences but you really didn't have a choice, you could practically feel Hotch's glare intensify even when you couldn't see him. He stood outside with Rossi watching in on the interrogation you were conducting.

‘’I don't like her being in the same room as him.’’ Hotch stated tight-lipped and impassive as always.

Rossi just turned his head and regarded him with a knowing look on his face, he scoffed at Aaron.

‘’What?’’ Hotch questioned, his brows furrowing as always

‘'You've been distracted recently, now I know why.’’

Hotch contemplated you in your presence, you were feeling playful and flirty whereas he was focused and hypervigilant. He couldn't help but be...worried about you. Even though the unsub fit the profile indefinitely, the team had no physical proof that warranted his arrest so you had to let him go. You had to stay later than everyone else to fill out the interrogation report at the P.D. After you were finished, you took your SUV and went back to the hotel you were staying at and parked your car. Although you were aware and diligent, you didn't expect to be blitzed from behind as you got out of the car. It was the same guy you took into custody- but thank God you got out of his aggressive hold and shot him in the kneecaps. You were bound to be shaken up and Hotch just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay. He was yanked out of his thoughts and tethered back to reality as your hand shot up to loosen up his tie, just to be closer to him, to feel his air.

‘'Hm- I always liked these-.’m You mumbled playfully, your face inching closer to his. But suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you even closer to him, his callous apathetic hand gripping your skin. You couldn't help but let out a sigh, your breath sweet like honey on the vine.

You felt exposed when he stared deeply into your alluring eyes, they provoked such a visceral reaction from him, it was making him feel helpless but he was a master of not showing it.

‘’What is it, Hotch?’’ Your free hand went to his should to assert a hold on him, like he you.

‘'The suspect that tried to attack you...I should've stayed and left with you.’’ His voice was confined with regret and a fit of bubbling anger, and his eyes darted away as if he was too ashamed to look at you considering what he could've prevented. His grip on your wrist loosened as you softly grabbed his face to look at you again. ‘’I don't know why I-‘’

‘’Hey, hey. Look at me...’’You breathed. ‘’I appreciate the chivalry of you being worried about me...but I feel safe with you. And I've spent a lot of time wanting you from a distance and I can deal with that during the day...but at night- I can't help but need you.’’

Although you didn't want to admit it, he was right to be worried. With this job danger was a welcome guest, lives are lost and wills are constantly battled and challenged but within that, the danger makes you realize how precious life is, how waiting does more harm than good, and how trusting your gut is key. The danger makes everyone on the team aggressive, especially you and Hotch. You've lost count of how many rows you've gotten into between each other because of this, within that there have been far too many moments where you've been this close to kissing the lips off of him in an argument. He's hot either way but that attitude is something else- and you reveled in it. Hotch examined your tantalizing face that was etched with a certain sincerity he hadn't seen in a long time, he hadn't felt this sort of desire in lightyears. It was a spark he was sure he was missing before you came into his life.

‘’Aaron. Call me Aaron.’’

It's like his eyes were talking, but you didn't know what they were saying.

‘’I'm special now?’’ You mumbled with a determined passivity. His glower was hard and you could practically hear his brain buzzing.

‘’I'm not a toy.’’ He enunciated in that enticing low and heavy tone of his, you were afraid you were going to lose your inhibitions already, he let go of your wrist and gripped your cheeks, jutting your face upwards. ‘’Stop playing with me as if I am.’’

You didn't let him finish his delicious threat, you captured your lips with his in a searing kiss, one that didn't even make you feel guilty for breaking procedure. You were playing God with Hotch and he knew it perfectly well but he had no objections, he'll be so careless to say he'll deal with the repercussions in the morning. He knew after this one taste of you, he had to have you for the night, even if it was just for one singular, holy night. His massive hands flew into your hair, raking through thick strands as your mouth seeks to find his - you tasted like a fiery embrace in the dead of night. Sweet like sandy beaches with that strong sting of a lemon being dripped onto a blood wound. Hotch, in all his serious purpose, reminded you of a stiff drink in general. He tasted like heady bourbon too.

Hotch started getting impatient now, he intertwined his fingers with your as and dragged you to his room. It was like a hot flash and then you were suddenly there, too possessed by your need for him to profile his fucking room. You were too flustered by a dire lust. He unexpectedly, stilled you both by his bed and grabbed you by the jaw, and jutted it upwards, his grip was ironlike.

‘’Take off your clothes.’’Hotch's tone was much different than his actions, it was polite yet dark, calm yet brutal. He was a walking paradox, and you wouldn't mind spending the rest of your days trying to figure him out. His eyes were scorching and burning into yours

‘'I was hoping you would do it.'’ You whispered against his lips, his nails biting into your skin a little more.

He took your tease as a challenge. Aaron's hands meandered slowly to your tight button-down, slowly undoing each button and staring you in the eyes exactly until you peeled it off.

His callous hands reached behind you to tug down the zipper of your skirt and you had to tamper down the urge to just blitz him right but no, you knew he wanted to take his time with this. Drag it out. Make you needy. Make you weak. You just watched him.

‘’You're all I can think about.’’ He whispered against your lips, the admission of honesty was making your heart pound in your chest.

Your hands were definitely not idle in the slightest, they were itching to get his clothes off- you made quick work of shrugging off his blazer and quickly loosened up his tie and got it off of him, but he caught onto the fabric.

‘’No, no. I wanna keep it for later.’’ Hotch mumbled playfully and it was the kind of sound that made your ears prick up.

You didn't speak, you just smirked as you pressed your lips to his again and sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. Hotch didn't let a single moment pass before he gripped you by the waist and flung you onto the bed.

Your mind was racing and dulling to a blur, you were left in only your underwear and bra- thank God you wore a pretty set today, you had no idea what a day this would pan out to be. You. In your boss's bed. Waiting desperately to be fucked by him, you didn't know how it got to this but it did. You weren't complaining but you did have to wonder how any of this came to be, it was straight out of a dream. Too absolved in your own thoughts, you were yanked out of your thoughts when you felt his hands on your skin. He was shirtless And damn him, he had been hiding such a figure for the entirety of this...thing...you had with him. Hotch's palms outlined the frame of your body and your breath was immediately knocked out of you when he nestled between your thighs. Your hands flew to tug on his hair.

‘’You're not playing fair.’’ You moaned drunkenly, his mouth planting chaste kisses on your collarbone- you just wanted him to get you naked underneath him but he was too busy making you squirm.

‘’I never have.’’ he replied cooly. ‘’Shh. Stay still.’’ He taunted huskily, you could practically hear him smile into your skin.

‘’No.’’ You shot back almost immediately, your legs had a mind of their own.

You mustered up the strength, rolled over, and now you were on top instead. Your mouth latched onto his neck and you began suckling and kissing down, you melted at the sound of him breathless. Fuck, that sound was like heaven. Who knew Hotch had the ability to get like this? His eyes flitted shut as he savored your touch, your feel. His hands went to grip your sides and his palms felt at the skin of your hips.

‘’I like you better beneath me, Hotch.’’ You said all honeyed as you bit his earlobe. He really couldn't take your teasing anymore.

His temper began to bubble and he quickly got out of your hold and flipped you so he was on top of you again, his preferred place to stay.

‘’I said call me Aaron, sweetheart. Don't get dumb on me now, we both know you're not.’’

‘’Now you're the one that's acting as if I'm a toy, Aaron.’’ You bit back. ‘’Can't you feel how much I need you?’’ lYou were practicallywhining at him but you knew he didn't care. Hotch pulled his face back from your neck to stare into those lust-clouded eyes.

‘’Then beg for me.’’ He demanded

‘’Get me naked first.’’ You flirted. His face turned hard and his brows furrowed again and he gripped your wrists again and pinned them down on the bed. Your body was heating up and begging to be touched by him again, you felt far too clothed.

Hotch let go and ducked down between the sweet valley of your thighs to shimmy off your underwear, your scent was divine, and he couldn't wait until he had the chance to taste you but right now you were agonizing over him barely touching you- you were possessed with the need of feeling him inside you. Your underwear and bra were now just a mere pile of scraps on his bedroom floor. You reached for his belt and unbuckled it but before you could go any further he grabbed your arm again

‘’No, no. None of that.’’ He reassured with a soft voice.

‘’Beg for me.’’

Hotch trailed his lips down your jaw to stun you into obliging his commands. To his pleasure. it was working like a dream. His kisses were brutal and vour desperation was radiating off of you, the battle of wills was palpable.

"Aaron...’’

‘’I said beg.’’ He warned, the eye contact between you manifesting into a wild and untameable tension that neither of you was willing to bridle.

‘’I want you to take me, don't be gentle...please...just tell me how you want me and make me yours. I've been begging for you all this time, don't make me repeat and parrot back the thoughts I've had for you.’’ You whimpered, goosebumps trailing your skin as his fingertips traced down your stomach and to the place where you needed his attention.

It felt as though Hotch's world had just stopped spinning like it had been tipped off its axis. Your breath was sweet and your eyes were wide and guileless, sparkling with need and lust that only he could satiate. He watched you stiff-eyed and earnestly as his fingers slipped into your heat, teasingly at first but then curling upwards, your moan was unconcealable and broken up.

‘’You'll be my undoing, you know that?’’ He groaned before biting your lip, you whimpered into his mouth. His fingers were feeling at you with an expertise you had never experienced before, they were literally working magic. It was rough and soft at the same time-just like him. They were moving rhythmically, tenderly and then his thumb began sending sparks through your body when he toyed with your clit

‘’Oh God...’’ You couldn't bite back your moans.

‘'Don't scream his name, scream mine. It sounds better, don't you think?’’ He knew you couldn't answer him coherently but you proved him wrong when you grabbed at his belt buckle.

‘’In me...please.’’ It was like you were drunk on him.

Hotch could withstand anything you had on a normal day during work I hours but when he got you begging like this, he just loved your whines but he felt bad for dragging it out- it looked like you were on the verge of crying, tears of pleasure were pricking in your eyes. He had to give into such a polite demand. You didn't even have the time to look down but you felt him, pulsating and huge. He pushed inside of you with no prior warning.

‘’Aaron...I can't take it.’’ You grunted, eyes unable to stray away from his as your nails dug into his broad shoulders.

"Yes, you can. You'll take it.’’

You quite literally had to accommodate to his massive size, he was fucking massive- not that you had any doubts, but the thought has crossed your mind on many occasions and you hated it. Now you were taking it from him.

‘’How do you feel now?’’ He questioned, the back of your head was dug into the pillow, your chin jutted up.

‘’What?’’ You sounded frazzled and it made him want to laugh.

‘’The tension...between us...’’ He panted, his thrusts pumping into you, your bodies colliding violently.

‘’We're not on your desk, are we?’’

Hotch didn't respond, he just sunk his teeth into your jaw and it made you cry out. Your nails were digging into his skin and he was completely absorbed into this outlet, he definitely didn't mind this happening over and over again. Your moans became louder and louder, you couldn't help yourself, he was eliciting all of these reactions out of you. He never pulled his punches and this isn't an exception- he was just so damn skilled, it was all so intricate, like he knew exactly what buttons to push to make you go fucking insane. He was quite the profiler indeed, the thought made you smirk.

‘’I don't know if I can keep going.’’ You whined, brows tenseing enough to make your head pulsate. ‘’Fuck….’’

‘’It's okay...just stay with me. You can do that for me, can't you?’’ He cooed at you and it sent shockwaves down your body, you nodded and poulled him into a searing kiss.

You couldn't say no to him, no matter how hard you tried. The collision was forceful, passionate, completely and utterly tangible through every cell in your body. Hotch could feel you tightening up around him, suffocating his cock perfectly and setting a high dose of adrenaline in his aching veins. You couldn't hold out anymore, it was becoming infuriating. A scream ripped from your throat, broken plea, a frazzled response that you could no longer contain. You reached your high far quicker than you had hoped for but, how could you hold out? It was Aaron fucking Hotchner. Your release felt incredible to the point where your eyes screwed shut, Hotch was entirely pleased to have you in such a state. He wished he could frame that expression and put it on his desk. While he finished, he kissed your lips and then kissed the bridge of your nose up to your forehead. Fuck, this switch up from roughness to tenderness was...nice. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. Hotch rolled over and you held onto him, your head perched on his chest.

You both stayed silent for a while. Breathing in and out. Watching the rise and fall of his chest. His arm enveloped you and his fingers began desperately tracing unintelligable patterns on your bare skin.

Breathing in and out.

Eyes fanning shut.

‘’Hm. I like fraternzing.’’ You said softly and you could hear Hotch's subtle chuckle, he was so clearly amused by your blatant rule breaking. Only you would be so callous.

‘’Funny.’’ He replied with a raise eyebrow.

‘’Tension leading to this is so fucking cliche.’’ You groaned, rolling your eyes at the idea but what could you say...you secretly found yourself enjoying it.

‘'How many times have you thought about rugby tackling me during an argument?’’ He smiled, gazing wantonly into the dark catalysts of your eyes when you hung your head up.

‘’Many ...but I wouldn't say rugby tackle. I'd say directly punch in the face.’’

#aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #aaron hotch fluff #hotchner x reader

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thejujvtsupost · 4 months

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Collar Crimes -> Torn Knuckles

So we’re back with some more mob Geto, this was heavily requested but I never got around to adding more to the series. So to everyone who requested it: ta-da!

Notes: F!reader, yakuza!Geto, casual violence, blood, Geto has tattoos, fluffy, pet names - bunny, reader is a sleepy type of gf & soft girl- think Sanrio/hello kitty aesthetic? Wound care and first aid.

The sound of Geto’s fist connecting with its target echoed through the warehouse. “I don’t take half of anything, I take what belongs to me. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Hiro was a nuisance, interacting with him just wasn’t worth the trouble any longer. The fact that he was called to the warehouse in the first place had him pissed off. The exchange between Hiro and his men was supposed to be a smooth one, yet he was required to handle things himself. Apparently Hiro thought attempting to kill one of his men for leverage was a good idea.

“I’m just asking for 15%, no 20% and I’ll carry out the rest of the deal for you!” Suguru couldn’t deny that he had balls, Hiro was already beaten bloody, missing a few teeth and still trying to negotiate. Shouldn’t the broken ribs be enough to shut him up?

Suguru’s expression and tone screamed danger when he bent to Hiro’s level to get in his face. “You have three seconds to get out of my sight or I’ll kill you. Pull any funny shit again, if you even breathe wrong; I’ll kill you. Don’t mistake my mercy for weakness or tolerance.” His hand was starting to throb from where his fist made contact with the idiot’s face. He sighed and didn’t bother to hide his irritation.

Hiro let out a whimper and scurried away, leaving Geto with Yuta and Choso. “Clean up the blood, I’m going home.” He left no room to argue- not that they’d try.

You had just gotten in the warm tub when you heard Suguru call your name. College was taxing and today was especially rough with your double lecture. Soaking in the giant tub with a bath bomb and bubbles was a good way to relax.

“In here!”

Suguru entered and greeted you with a smile before leaning over to kiss you. “Hi bunny.”

You felt sad upon seeing his hand on the edge of the tub, “You’re hurt?”

“It’s nothin’ to worry about, got room for me in there?” He stripped his suit off and briefly washed his hands despite the sting against his wounds.

You hummed and slid forward to create space, “I’ll take a look at it once we’re done.” He kissed your nape and pulled you back against his chest when he was settled.

“How was my girl’s day? You seem stressed.” It’d be dumb to think he didn’t notice your mood right away. He paid genuine attention to you, your feelings and your needs. Suguru knew you better than anyone. Everyone.

You groaned and leaned your head back to rest on him, “I had my double biology lecture today with my professor that never takes late work. I submitted my paper a minute past midnight the other day and I swear he was glaring at me. It was ONE minute, what difference does it make? He already took five points off automatically for the late submission so why am I getting the stink eye? I’ve already been penalized! He’s a hard grader too, there’s stuff I thought I understood but got wrong on the midterm and now I’m not up to my standard grade.”

The temptation to take care of, in one way or another, the professor giving you trouble was strong, but his absence of teaching would probably stress you out more. “I’m sorry bun, only a few weeks left and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders for extra comfort.

“It just sucks, I hate being a disappointment.”

“You’re never a disappointment, never. The guy obviously has a stick up his ass and takes it out on his students. You’re such a smarty pants, your grades are excellent. One professor in the grand scheme of things won’t matter.”

You didn’t realize how tired and tense you were until he reassured you. “It’s hard to remember that sometimes, thank you.” You turned your head and kissed him softly.

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

You shook your head and he frowned, it was pretty late and you hadn’t eaten. “Was waiting for you, and I couldn’t decide. I wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

“How about we get something delivered? You need to eat whether I’m home or not, it’s important.”

You curled in on yourself the slightest bit, “I know… I just really miss you sometimes and I like when we eat together. Can we have curry?”

“Curry it is then. C’mon let me get out first.”

Suguru stood up, got out of the tub and dried off before he assisted you and toweled you off himself. Your soft and fluffy robe was held out for you, which he also took the liberty of tying.

“Let me see your hand, your knuckles are all torn up.” Your face clearly showed your concern. He loved that about you, how you had your heart on your sleeve.

It only took a few minutes, but you took care in applying ointment and wrapping his knuckles so they would heal. You finished your job with a kiss over his hand and he’d never admit it but the action made him blush. He had no choice but to hug you immediately in thanks so you wouldn’t notice.

(You noticed. You thought it was cute.)

“Thank you bunny, you’re always a great little nurse. So, curry?”

“Yes please.” You nodded your head and followed him into the living room.

He called you the nurse but in your eyes, he took care of you way better than you could take care of him.

Prev <- Index -> Next

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open!

#collar crimes series #yakuza! Geto #reader insert #no use of y/n #f reader #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk fluff #mob Geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #send an ask for requests

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strang3lov3 · 2 months

Text

Edit 4/5/24 - Aya’s taken my fic down, and I promised to take down my posts about her plagiarism if she’d apologize to me for hurting me. She didn’t, so these posts are staying up. I blocked her and let her know she’s more than welcome to send an ask from a side blog apologizing. This behavior is unacceptable.

Update about my plagiarized fic/ayadrafts (original post here)

Tw-fatphobia, violent threats

First, I wanna say thank you to everyone who is showing up and sticking up for me. Eddie stans, Joel stans, writers and readers both. I love and appreciate you so much. I know a good amount of you have reported ayadrafts and that’s awesome. If anyone in the comments is able to let others know how to do the same, that would be greatly appreciated.

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how to update this so I think we’ll just go through the timeline.

Explanation below.

Last time I talked about this yesterday where I wasn’t responding to an ask, I showed screenshots of ayadrafts’ messages with others, how she laughed at both them and me. I posted and reblogged with screenshots of countless deleted comments. That was in late afternoon. During that time, people repeatedly commented on Ayadrafts’ post calling out her blatant theft of my work and even alerted blogs that had reblogged/liked her post that it was stolen from me. Ayadrafts has admitted to stealing my fic, but simply does not care or feel bad.

What I did not see and what I do not have screenshots of is Ayadrafts telling individuals to k*ll themselves. It seems that she gets a comment, replies to it, and then deletes both within seconds. Multiple people, both friends and strangers have let me know that this was taking place.

As if she could not get any lower. Laughing in my face, mocking my work, and then telling people to k*ll themselves? Absolutely abhorrent and frankly, fucking cruel.

But apparently others who were defending me were cruel right back to her. From what I’ve heard, I believe people who were commenting remained fairly civil, even if ayadrafts herself did not like the comments. I’ve received asks about this and I’m disappointed to hear that people were in her asks calling her a fat cunt and other abhorrent things. That’s a low blow and does not reflect me or my values.

Believe me, I understand the anger. I’ve never met someone so antisocial and uncaring. I am angry too. Fucking livid. But that doesn’t give me or anyone else the right to say something just as heinously cruel back to her. I don’t condone anyone being sexist, fatphobic, homophobic, racist, or hateful on my behalf. None of these things will ever be tolerated by me, even if they’re being used to “defend” me. Not okay with that in the slightest.

Take the high road, don’t give this person any more ammo to be any more cruel and atrocious than she’s already being.

After this, ayadrafts disabled replies on her post of my stolen fic for the night and everything quieted down for the most part. Today, I see that she’s got those replies back on and is likely looking for another fight, blocking and unblocking people. Because, like I said yesterday, it is evident that she has a clear need for negative attention, and all of this is a game to her.

If you wanna participate in that game, you’ve got my consent. Spam the shit out of her, annoy her through posts like this and this. I don’t care, because frankly I am past the point of sympathy with her, and I think I’ve been way too forgiving up to this point. Maybe she’ll cave and delete my fic like I’ve repeatedly asked her to do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But it’s entirely possible she won’t, and that she’ll double down even harder, and that by continuing to fuel the fire she’ll only debase herself further and in doing so make us all feel worse. Were you all drained watching this go down yesterday? Because I sure as shit was.

So at some point I might ask you all that we just drop it, for both the sake of my mental health and your own. I think we’re all unbelievably hurt and upset, but we need to be able to walk away at some point. The reality is, we can keep this going forever but hateful, spiteful people like this don’t often thrive long without something to feed on.

I’ve reported her post multiple times, tweeted at tumblr, and I’ve heard nothing but crickets. It is what it is.

#strang3lov3 #ayadrafts #Joel miller x reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x reader smut #discourse #tw discourse

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

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reallyromealone · 1 year

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Rome may we get a pt 2 to this fic? https://www.tumblr.com/reallyromealone/685571568346202112/just-me-sliding-here-to-ask-if-i-can-request-a?source=share

Bonten trio (ran, Rindō, Sanzu) x dilf!reader

Male reader - fluff -poly relationship - reader is a dad

🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷After meeting his son, the trio was far far more present in (name)s life and subsequently his sons as (name) went to pick up his kid from day-care when he could which was usually three times a week followed by going to the park and getting food the toddler wanted.

"Noooo!" (Sons name) screamed out as he threw a tantrum from hell, (name) just staring down his son before looking at the Haitanis and Sanzu "I'm sorry about this" (name) said before crouching "I understand you want to put your feet in a puddle but if you wanna do that, shoes stay on" (name) said simply "now keep your shoes on and stomp in the puddles or we go home and you don't get to stomp in any puddles and you go to bed" he said simply and the toddler pouted before nodding and getting up "now what do we say?"

"Sowwy..." The toddler said to the adults "do you guys forgive him?" (Name) asked the trio and they realized this is a good way to earn the kids trust "we forgive him" Ran said with a smile and the toddler let his dad clean his face up before letting the toddler go and jump in some puddles as they went to (sons name)s choice of restaurant which was usually one with a play pen of sorts.

"Your son's adorable!" A young woman said to (name) as she took his order, flirting with him but the Dad paid no mind to her advances as he let his son order what he wanted like a big boy and then she noticed there were four extremely attractive men before her.

The three executives glared at her from behind (name) and Ran took (sons name) in his arms when the toddler reached out to him, (name) was happy the toddler trusted the three men... He didn't exactly have anyone he could trust him with for long periods of time.

Maybe his cousin.

The three did flirt to hell though with (name) while (sons name) enjoyed his his food and stole his dad's food because despite ordering similar things the tot wanted to know what it tasted like.

"His birthday is in two weeks if you guys wanna tolerate fifteen toddlers for an afternoon"

That sounded like a nightmare but they wanted to show they could handle things involving the kid, showing they were committed--- (name) had an inkling of their intentions and he knew he would have to have a conversation with them about what a relationship with him would entail.

He wanted his kid to have a good life.

And a secure life.

"Well being gifts" Rindō said simply and (sons name) beamed at the fact they were coming to his birthday.

They wanted to fucking die.

Here they sat with a bunch of parents chatting as a bunch of toddlers ran around giggling and playing.

Apparently the moms claimed (name) as one of their own and the dad's realized he wasn't trying to steal their wife, he just wanted to raise his kid.

"Thank you Zuzu!" (Sons name) said as he opened gifts and held the newest toy on the market, the Haitanis getting him cool toys as well.

By the end of the day, the three men were exhausted as (name) tucked his son into bed, the boy cake filled and happy.

"You guys don't gotta stick around" (name) said starting clean up as he gave the house cleaner the day off... He wasn't going to make them clean this shit.

"We'll help out, we contributed to the mess"

With anyone else they would have dipped already but not with (name).

He deserved better.

"I know you guys are flirting... I have ground rules if you guys want to be in my life and my son's more than whatever this is"

Everyone stopped as (name) spoke "no drugs or drinking around him, he doesn't need to see that shit" he said firmly "he's my first priority always, I WILL choose him no matter what"

"And I don't mess around, I'm here for commitment and if anything happens... You save him"

The three took in his words and nodded, if this meant they got to date him... So be it.

"Good, now so you guys wanna take cake home? There's so much fucking cake..."

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #bonten x reader #ran x male reader #sanzu x male reader #rindou x male reader

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vaspider · 1 year

Text

Intro Post, updated March 1, 2023

I post all asks under the name they were submitted under, and I post them when I feel like answering them. I will never honor a request to answer an ask privately or anonymously. Anon is never turned on. These are hard self-care boundaries. Please block the tag "harassment tag" if you don't want to be subjected to some of the horrible shit I get sent sometimes.

If you like what I do, please consider hiring me, consider buying something from NerdyKeppie (the shop I own with my spouse - we do custom work!), consider buying me a coffee or becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar. I am a disabled, queer, fat, Jewish non-binary butch whose entire income is derived from selling Quality Queerwear via our company NerdyKeppie (we also offer patches of all sorts, nerd gear, etc -- if you don’t see it, ask!), Patreon (queer fiction for a dollar) and freelance work.

If asking me to boost a post for you, ask at most once per week, and please don't make that the only way you interact with me, or follow me just to send an ask that I boost your posts. I notice, and I'll end up just blocking you if you make me feel "used." It's gross, y'all. I'm glad to help, but don't use me. It's getting to a point where I'm starting to feel pretty gross about it, and I'm one of the more relaxed ppl about boosting posts, so please don't put me in a position where I feel like I have to stop doing it.

I will not debate my identity or its history with anyone. I am a transmasculine non-binary butch lesbian, a cripple, a dyke, and lots of other things, too. You don't get a vote in that, and if any of those words are words you can't stand to have someone use around you in reference to himself, go ahead and block me. I won't censor my identity for your comfort; I took a long time becoming proud of who I am.

No, I am not an anti or an anti-anti. Literally no one cares about these distinctions outside of Tumblr. Please leave me alone. I am not going to have that conversation. No is a complete sentence.

I’m not interested in interacting with TWERFs, SWERFs, or any sort of exclusionary LGBTQ/queer people. Y'all are exhausting.

Do the work to root out TERF/2nd-wave "man bad woman good" philosophies from your head. Do the work to root out the gendered behavior you were taught. I am not here to raise other people's children.

I am not here to raise other people's children. My daughter is an adult and I am done being responsible for the experiences of a minor. If you read or interact with me, you acknowledge that you chose to do that and I can't control what happens to what I post once I post it on my Tumblr. People will reblog it and I can't control where it ends up. I can only control what I say in my space, which I do.

Curate your own online experiences. If you don't like seeing what I write, then add 'vaspider' to your "filtered content" list and don't bother me about it. Tumblr is a 17+ environment and I am not responsible for you seeing things you don't like. Adults having adult conversations do not need to be filtered for children. This is your notification.

I’ve been Out for over 30 years. I don't tolerate lectures from strangers, especially people half my age, about history I lived through.

I'm transmasc and if you believe transmisandry/transandrophobia aren't "real things," or that transmascs aren't "really oppressed," please just leave me alone. Oppression Olympics are bad, actually.

My immediate family consists of my partners, my adult daughter, and our dogs.

No one in my immediate family is cis or het. I have been called Spider for 20+ years, & now a lot of people call me Mama Spider. Mom is a role, it need not be gendered.

This is a lot shorter than it used to be. I don't really feel like posting paragraphs explaining stuff anymore.

My icon has lore, apparently.

I post all asks and anon is never turned on.

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supermarketbae · 11 months

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Heyyy, I just found you and followed❤️ could I request a billy Hargrove x reader where they argue one night and so she goes and stays the night with Eddie and somehow billy finds out where she’s at and shows up in the middle of the night and is like fuck no she’s mine and then him and Eddie argue over her and whatever else you wanna add and end how you want ofc I’m just a sucker for jealous/ angry billy

Omgg!! Hello lovelyyyy! I appreciate the follow!! thanks so much for requesting!

anddddd i made a tiny ittyyy bitty tweak to this because I felt like a little bit of angst today (sorry in advance)

warnings: Jealous!Billy, billy thinks reader is cheating, yelling, slight* panic attack for Billy (idk not really but), fluff, angst, hurt comfort :)

Some Things, Will Never Change.

You were dreaming. You just had to be. In no universe would Billy just accuse you of cheating so blatantly. You thought you had gained his trust, but apparently, old habits die hard. "I can't believe you." Billy seethes pacing in the kitchen slamming the refrigerator door open. You winced, annoyed at the noise that echoed through the dim house, When you had got home from your summer job at the arcade, You decided to pay Billy a visit. You were starting to regret that decision. "Believe what." You spit out starting to get angry at the haughty tone he was using towards you. "You playing around." Billy says eyes narrowed. "Don't think I haven't seen you flirting with that FREAK Munson." Billy growls, throwing his soda can on the table. You sigh as it bursts, eyes following the trail of carmel liquid to the floor. "I wasn't flirting Billy, He came in searching for Max and her friends, he couldn't find them so he asked me." You grit.

"You know, asking like a sensible adult. Like you should be about this situation." You say eerily calm. Billy's anger lights up like a firework at the insult. "fuck off," he growls again. "Maybe if ya didn't parade yourself around I wouldn't have to worry." Your eyes widen at his vulgar sentence. "Shut up." Your mouth hangs open "William Hargrove, don't you dare act like you don't flirt with every single fucking girl in our fucking school. AND don't you fucking dare act like I don't fucking tolerate your dumbass shit." Your screaming now. Not one to back down from mistreatment from anyone, even your boyfriend. "Then for shit's sake leave if you don't like it!" Billy shouts at you seeing nothing but red. "Don't let the door hit you in your fucking ass on the way out either!" He roars as you grab your purse and slam the door hard on the way out.

Your tearing up slightly as you get in your car. Who knows how many miles above the speed limit your driving, but your route takes you to one of your closest friend's home, who also happens to be the cause of the argument... Eddie. Knocking on his trailer door you hear a drowsy "It's open" rouse from beyond the door. Eddie's honeyed eyes light up as you drag yourself in, but quickly dim noticing you're crying. "oh my god, sweetheart what's wrong?" you sniffle louder as he calls you the pet name Billy usually does. As he pulls you into his arms, you are reminded of how Billy's frame feels wrapped around yours, and you start bawling. The whole shebang. Complete waterworks in Eddie's arms while he tries to comfort you. "Billy-mfg-Billy hates m-me" You hiccup out.

Eddie smiles bitterly. "oh honey..." Eddie trails off not knowing what to say. "Can I just... stay here." You cut off his pitiful comfort attempt quickly, feeling like a burden already. Eddie fumbles on his words, scratching his head awkwardly as he nods "Shit-of course-uh-hell-I don't really have an extra bed or anything but I can uhm- sleep on the couch... yeah." You laugh softly at his ramble. "I'm not a princess Eddie," you sigh, "I can sleep on the couch it's fine, truly." you continue as you see a look of protest on his face. He shakes his head "I'm trying to be a gentleman here excuse you." Eddie grins boyishly, and you don't know why. It could be nerves. It could be the emotional buildup from tonight. But your heart leaps. swoons even. And with a sickening resolve, you realize Billy's argument had, unfortunately, made valid sense. However, shaking your head at the thought, you let Eddie drag you towards his room to pick out a movie to watch.

Eddie's company had proven beneficial to your mood. A mere hour into the movie and your mind was elsewhere, far away from the argument you had with Billy as you two joked about last school year, munching on various health deleterious snacks that were found in Eddie's fridge. "And then she had the AUDACITY to call me 'late for class' and told me that I had to retake the whole course!" Eddie yells in indignation as you clutch your sides from laughter. "You chose to come in through the window Eddie, what was she gonna do? tip her hat and say 'pip pip cheerio' while she was teaching about the American revolution?" You cackle as Eddie slumps back on the couch snickering. Your laughter cuts short as you hear the roar of an engine.

Billy's camaro.

You panic. How could you not. Here you were with the exact boy who had caused the argument. And you knew how Billy would react to such a turn of events. To put it lightly, violence would be involved. Before you can voice your fears however, Eddie's front door slams open. You try to scream as Billy in an angered blur hurls past you and starts throwing punches, tackling Eddie, who is cussing, to the floor. "STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM HER YOU SON OF A BIT-" Billy is cut of when Eddie lands a hard punch to his gut, grimacing as he wipes his bloodied nose. "Dude!" Eddie barks "You're so full of it you don't even know what SHE'S FEELING!" Eddie spins on you pointing trying to reason with him. "I don't even want her like that man. She's your girlfriend dude so how 'bout you BLOODY listen to her feelings maybe then she wouldn't come to me dipshit!" Eddie swears once more as Billy charges at him "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he roars as he takes a winding swing. A sickening crack issues and Eddie falls to the floor holding his nose "Fucking shit Hargrove," Eddie pants from the ground.

You realize your crying when a sob lurches out of you. Hot, thick tears streaming down your face. God how you wished to be anywhere else in the world. far far far away. It's enough to take Billy out of his angered trance, as your breathing comes out in short pants. "leave him alone Billy. I'll come back with you. Hell I don't care, just stop hurting him." you say quietly turning to the door sighing. It hurt really. So much that you couldn't feel as you lurched your way to the car. As you opened the door to leave, you glance back at Billy who's staring wide eyed, almost a look of sickened fear on his face. His usual sun kissed complexion looked paled, and gaunt. "You don't deserve her Hargrove." Eddie's gravelly voice is the last thing you hear before you shut the door behind you and drive back to Billy's house.

You don't look to see If he follows you.

It's late. You knew that for sure. The sun didn't even seem to have set before you were engulfed in a night that matched your feelings. The rain was howling outside as you sat at the lamp lit table in a witchy town you wanted desperately to forget about. The only thing that was making noise in the house was the clock. The dull ticking was a comfort. A reminder to you that some things will never change.

A comfort. you remind yourself closing your eyes. Heaving in a breath you didn't know you were holding.

tick. tick. tick. tick.

It was those four seconds you would remember till the end times.

Those four seconds in which Billy came into the room, looked you in the eyes and then crumbled. Simply melted to the ground, back against the fridge. "I'm so sorry." he said simply. You show no sign of emotion as you are unchanging, and to be frank, unflattered.

As you stiffen.

he notices.

He takes into account that your usual happy, touchy, aura is gone. He realizes he's the one that caused this. He realizes that he could lose one of the only things he's loved. He realizes you could hate him. He realizes you probably do hate him. He realizes he might never feel truly loved again. He realizes that he will never love like this again. He realizes you have been one of the only people to truly care about him. He realizes he has told you his deepest secrets. He realizes how blank your usually love filled stare is. He realizes he hates himself for this. He realizes that it feels like his heart is being ripped out.

The last thing Billy realizes is that he's sobbing.

Crying harder than he's ever cried before. Crying so hard he's shaking. He can't breathe. Why would he want to anyway. Everything hurts. It hurts so so so so bad. He would rather suffocate than lose you. He's hiccuping and thinking of every single time he's done something wrong. It only worsens as he feels your hand rub on his back as you kiss his hair "Your okay my love, it's okay... you need to breathe for me darling... deep breaths." a hard shiver racks his body at your words.

"my love" you had said.

Billy doesn't believe you still love him.

"Please-I" Billy can't get the words out as his throat closes up, hoarse with pain and emotion. The pain increases as you pull him into your chest and he inhales your scent. It feels foreign and familiar all at once.

It feels foreign because he knows he might have to let you go.

"I-I- Don't deserve you- just- I'msorryI'msorry- I hate me so MUCH." Billy sobs into your chest. He flinches as he feels a tear run down his cheek. He's oh so vulnerable. Billy whimpers pathetically into your chest. He doesn't hear the sweet nothings you coo to him as you yourself let tears flow. He's broken. you both know it. There's nothing you can do about it except try to fix the boy in front of you.

And you are.

You're trying so hard to fit the puzzle pieces back together. Billy's breathing evens out as he notices he's not the one shaking anymore. It's you who is rocking him gently in your arms. His eyes flutter as your nails scratch gently at his scalp. "You deserve love Billy." his eyes roll slightly as he hears your honeyed voice. Your voice was addictive, he thought as the thoughts whirring in his brain start to slow. Billy is focusing on the steady beat of your heart. "Let me love you." Your sweet sensual drawl is back. Billy grimaces. Cringing at how much he feels for you right now. "You still love me?" His gravelly even voice startles you. It's deep, milky, and stoic. You would've never guessed he had even cried. "Always." You say pulling him closer to you.

"Forever." You ghost into the quiet room. A small whine graces Billy's parted lips at your words. You made him feel so good. "I love you." comes the deep reply. Billy is looking up at you. Icy darkened eyes concealed by his hooded eyelids. Your mind reels, you think you've forgotten how to breathe. You'd never get used to hearing that from him. It made your heart swell every time he would say it. every. single. time.

"I love you too." you say it full of meaning. It's like a promise. A promise to hold him for as long as he needs. A promise to be there when no one else is. A promise to simply love him. You don't think you could want to promise something more than this.

A calm, needed silence enters the room, as Billy tilts up his head to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, wanting to get drunk on the feeling of his body against yours. The last thing you allow yourself to think about before you give in to the godly pleasure of Billy, Is the clock.

tick.tick.tick.tick.

Some things, will never change.

And you hoped to God, your love was one of them.

-----

a/n: IM SOSOSOOSOOSOSO sorry it took this long. first i had a performance to end my acting classes out and after that i had to take a mental health break. I really hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for requesting and reading my love <3

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove x female!reader #stranger things billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove angst #billy hargove smut #billy my beloved #billy stranger things #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove fandom

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iexistforidkwhatreason · 3 months

Text

My experience with Lumii/HoneyStarlightz/Lumiidere/Lumii after dark/KiramekiCookie

I have to get this out of my system because I'm deadass tired of watching this person wander around as if they're innocent when they aren't, and I'm also annoyed because of people not noticing what this person does behind the scenes because it now takes one quick Google Search using the prompt "Luca Wii Sports" to go down the rabbit hole. This is about HoneyStarlightz/Lumii.

Lemme begin with the minor stuff. So you know how Lumii has a massive grudge against me because of most of, if not all the stuff I drew in my DeviantArt account? Almost everything there was drawn when I was a FUCKING MINOR. I am 20 years old as we speak, and most of the drawings Lumii mentions happened BEFORE MY 18TH BIRTHDAY on the 1st of December, 2021, and I'll admit, during most of that time, I was a dumbass, immature, and an edgelord. I then stopped posting anything bloody and/or revealing but continued to post harmless drawings before my 18th birthday happened. October 11th of last year was when I stopped posting on that account all together because I found out that DeviantArt was blaming Hamas and Hamas only for the Palestinian deaths and making it as if the Israel military didn't do a thing to innocent lives in Palestine after Hamas attacked.

Next, we have them making me look like an asshole for shipping Luca with Abby (The one shipart I made of the two apparently traumatized them). Back when I was 17, I decided to draw Abby and Luca, two Miis I'm not a fan of, nor close to, as a couple because I thought shipping the two was a good idea. I then posted the finished product on the 23rd of January, 2021. The drawing was not meant to traumatize anyone. It was JUST. SHIP. ART. OF. ABBY. &. LUCA. The only bad thing about that drawing was that I shoved my opinion of the two Miis down people's throats in the description by asking how the hell do people like them because to me, they're just not fun to play against at all, and even then, it was drawn three to four years ago, and I don't even ship the two anymore. I ship Abby with Wii U Barbara now. Mate, I didn't even know Lumii EXISTED back then, let alone know they had a massive love for Luca.

Next, there's the clear as day hipocrisy that people have yet to notice somehow. So you know how Lumii has "Opinion Bashers" on their DNI list, right? On that same list, they also have people that hate, despise, even dislike Luca, instantly making them a hypocrite because they said they don't want to interact with people who just cannot tolerate others having a different opinion while also saying that if you think Luca is not a good Mii, you're instantly on their shit list. Also, they said no exceptions, meaning you can be the nicest person in the world, but if you dislike Luca, go fuck yourself.

I have several friends that like Luca a lot, some of which are here on Tumblr. I do not like Luca. We get along perfectly fine. I don't understand why they feel like Luca haters and Luca lovers can't co-exist when they clearly can. Just don't be an ass to others when it comes to what you think of the character, mate.

Lastly, we have the fact that they cannot take criticism. They said criticism is prohibited on their DeviantArt profile, which means that you can say anything positive about their art, but if you say anything negative, then nope. Get out. Oh, I'm so sorry I gave you a harmless critique that was just saying what I didn't like and how you can improve. I apologize.

Seriously tho, how sensitive can you be to the point where you prohibit people from critiquing your work? Or is it that they can't criticize you? Or is it both?

Now we go to the bigger stuff, starting with the TRANSPHOBIA ACCUSATIONS and obvious delusion. They said, and I quote "please shut the fuck up for calling him "Lucapoopa", "Boring", "Annoying", "Scum" and "Tedious" for the love of fucking god, he's fucking overhated and y'all are too harsh and transphobic at him, fucking hell".

Luca is not canonically trans. Don't even say he is because of unused data because I did my research, and the only unused data he has is facial hair related. Don't get me wrong, Luca being trans is a HC that I'm completely fine with. If you want to headcanon him as trans, fine by me. Trans rights all the way, mate. Don't fucking call people transphobic just for disliking Luca tho! Luca is not canonically trans, and even if he was, bold of Lumii to assume that someone that hates Luca hates him because he's trans. He appears as an opponent in three games and there's a chance that he might piss you off in all three.

How delusional do you have to be to see someone hate a character that isn't trans outside of your HC and go "Oh, they're transphobic"?

Next, there's fullblown insensitivity. I decided to check on DeviantArt for something, and I get a DM from someone. We had a chat about Lumii, and in that chat, they showed this...

Can you spot the insensitive part? Here, I'll make it easier for ya.

I'm completely fine with people giving dark backstories to Miis in their HC, but there's a line, and you crossed it. Can we not do rape related headcanons, please? I feel like that should go without saying because, oh, I dunno, that shit is OBVIOUSLY IN BAD TASTE!

Lastly, there's something I cannot show here because if I do, I'm going to get in trouble... It has to do with porn...

Lumii has a total of three accounts that I bumped into while looking at Luca images on Google that have porn of Miis on them. They have a Newgrounds account (KiramekiCookie), which has two drawings of Luca porn, a Bluesky account (Lumii after dark), which has twelve, and a Twitter/X account with the same name, which not only has porn of Luca, but of other Miis too... AND THERE'S AN UNGODLY AMOUNT OF IT, MOST OF IT BEING LUCA PORN! TELL ME YOU'RE OBSSESSED WITH OUT TELLING ME YOU'RE OBSSESSED!

I make YOU uncomfortable, Lumii? I make YOU uncomfortable?! You drew Luca laying eggs, you drew a worrying amount of Luca porn, and yet you have the AUDACITY to say I make YOU uncomfortable when you're obviously worse, you fucking hypocrite?! You drew art that is bound to make several people uncomfortable the moment they see it on the THREE ACCOUNTS you have, you falsely accuse people of transphobia, you obssess over Luca an unhealthy and uncomfortable amount, and yet I'M the one in the wrong because I drew ship art of Luca and Abby and art that has blood on it years ago?! I don't get your logic!

BTW, for those who say that this could've been resolved privately, it couldn't because Lumii has blocked me on DeviantArt, and they also blocked me on an old Tumblr account of theirs too, meaning that talking to them was out of the fucking question. They CLEARLY did not want to talk it out. They just wanted to avoid me entirely while also antagonize me for shit I did years ago that wasn't even that bad compared to the crap they did.

Lumii, if you manage to see this, which I know you will because I know you have a Discord and I know someone's gonna send a screenshot to you on there... All of this could've been avoided had you just been a better person.

#miiblr

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viterbofangirllovestheuntamed · 1 year

Note

why just say the jiang have an unnatural tolerance for spice? why not all flavor? Poisonously bitter, super sour, ultra sweet, the burn of the strongest alcohol, the jiang adore the extremes of flavor and still have very discerning palates and people with iron stomachs are WIMPS compared to the stomach resilience of the jiang, it wasn't on purpose but a true jiang is next to impossible to poison (which definitely helped Jin Ling when he's in Koi Tower)

Despite knowing that they were in the deepest, most isolated safe room in Koi tower, Jin Guangtong couldn't help keeping his voice low. "Thank you for meeting us here. Your... services are greatly appreciated, we assure you."

His fellow conspirators ducked and bowed their heads in agreeing acknowledgements, which went ignored by their guest who sprawled on his cushion like a drunken commoner. "Glad to be here," he grinned, vaguely sarcastic. "What services did you have in mind, exactly?"

"The new Jin-zongzhu." Jin Guangtong didn't think beating around the bush would get them anywhere.

Their guest---blast the man for refusing to give his real name---blinked. "Wow, I didn't think you Jin were capable of being that direct. You want the brat snuffed, eh? Not gonna just use him as your figurehead? Seems like that'd be more your type of thing. What, did his spirit dog shit in your shoes or something?"

The handful of other nobles around the table started blurting out their complaints, heedless of order or dignity. "He's punishing bribery!" "Had my nephew executed for a harmless bit of fun with a servant girl!" "He's auditing the tax collection!"

Jin Guangtong cleared his throat. "The brat is, unfortunately, intractable. Comes from being raised by that asshole of an uncle in Yunmeng. I'm afraid the boy is... idealistic and unwilling to adapt to the realities of ruling such a large and complex network such as Lanling Jin."

Their guest nodded pensively, scratching at his jaw. "I can see your problem. I've got one more question, though. Not to be ungrateful for your admittedly generous payment offer, but why not do it yourself?"

"His lineage is extremely strong," Jin Guangtong sniffed. "The highest pedigree, which means that his golden core is exceptionally strong."

"Plus he's been trained by that paranoid maniac since he was toddling around that backwater swamp," someone to his left muttered.

Jin Guangshan threw a quelling glare over his shoulder, though of course, they had a point. Jiang Wanyin's training had been rigorous to the extreme due to both his and his nephew's insistence that the latter be able to wield the formidable Jin Zixuan's sword when he came of age. And since Rulan would be unlikely to match the sword's strength at first, those Yunmeng bastards had taught him to be deadly with a bow. Because apparently there was no kill like overkill at Lotus Pier.

And speaking of overkill. "We in Lanling Jin are certainly not... unfamiliar with poisons. However, between the strength of the boy's core and the inevitable wrath of Sandu Shengshou, it is imperative that the poison be untraceable as well as effective. Preferably something innocuous that can be chalked up as a tragic accident. A food he is allergic to, perhaps."

Their guest barked out in laughter. "Wait! Wait a minute... you said the kid was raised in Yunmeng, right? And you think he has a food allergy?!"

Jin Guangtong drew himself up in irritation, unnoticed by the cackling man in front of him. "I don't see why not! In fact, noble though our lineage is, our blood has always had a weakness to-"

"Look, look, I understand where you're coming from, I do!" the mysterious man wheezed. "It's just... well, I've spent some time in Yunmeng. In fact, I've even known some Jiang disciples. Frankly, I'm not sure anyone from Lotus Pier can be poisoned!"

"Ridiculous!" another voice scoffed.

"Look," their guest continued, still trying to contain giggles. "The only region that can even compare to Yunmeng for spice is Meishan, and the ruling family of Lotus Pier is half Yu. The whole sect is used to a flavor profile that could kill a Lan at fifty paces, and that's not even taking into account the dares."

Jin Guangtong blinked. "Dares?"

"Oh yeah," their guest drawled, somehow managing to lounge even more. "Those Rangers are insane. The butcher sect might run their people through a crazy level of training, but nothing and no one can survive crazy like a Jiang. They don't even train for it- it's just how they live. Those bastards challenge each other to lick poisoned toads for fun! They will eat anything that comes from the river, no matter how disgusting! And don't even get me started on the so-called 'twelve-day rule'..."

Jin Guangtong decided he didn't want to know. "But surely, as the Jin heir, Sandu Shengshou wouldn't have allowed-"

"Sandu Shengshou?" their guest scoffed. "The man who cobbled together then had to feed an army of massacre survivors and rogue cultivators? The man who spent the first decade of his rule rebuilding his home from a few burnt sticks poking out of---how'd you describe it?---a backwater swamp? The man with the bottomless stomach? Seriously-" he added, abandoning his slouch to stab an emphatic finger into the table. "That man can pack it away like nobody's business. I think his fucking legs are hollow or something...

"Anyway," he continued, lounging once more. "The point is that Sandu Shengshou's perception of what is and isn't edible is... flexible. Especially knowing his shixiong's penchant for supposedly intolerable amounts of chilies."

"Then how do you plan on killing Jin Rulan?" Jin Guangtong spat, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Oh, I'm not planning on killing Jin Rulan," their guest grinned, still scratching at his jaw. "I'm planning on killing you!"

Then his scratching fingers began pulling his own face off.

Jin Guangtong and his conspirators all recoiled in horror, a horror that increased one hundred-fold when their guest's discarded face revealed the damnable visage of Yiling Laozu himself!

The reborn master of demonic cultivation twirled the grotesque false face around on his finger. "Neat trick, isn't it? Picked it up from Xue Yang, of all people. Ah well; genius comes in all forms. Now!" He leveled a sinister smile at the gathered men as he raised a black flute to his lips. "Raise your hand if you wanted my beloved nephew dead!"

_____________________

Eventually, the screams faded away into gurgling, then silence. Jiang Cheng nursed a bottle of wine as he leaned against the secret meeting room's door, still glowing purple from his sealing spell. Some of those fuckers had really made a go at it, but none of these lazy Jin were a match for his own spiritual power.

After the silence reigned for a few moments, the wood against his back rattled with a brief knock as his brother's cheerful voice echoed out. "It's done, Jiang Cheng! You can let me out now!"

Jiang Cheng took another lazy swig. "What's the password?"

"Jiang-zongzhu is a little crybaby bitch who can't put his shoes on correctly," Wei Wuxian's voice snarked back, sounding decidedly annoyed.

"Nope, that's not it," Jiang Cheng answered, wiggling the bottle so that the sloshing liquid was audible. "Damn, this really is good wine."

"Jiang Cheeeeennnnnnggggg," Wei Wuxian whined from the other side. "You're so meeeeeaaaaaan! Making me do all the hard work-"

"You wouldn't let me kill them, you bastard! Said I had to keep my own hands clean even though they where plotting against my-"

"-while you lounge around drinking Lotus Pier's finest wine like a mean meanie who's mean!"

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes so hard he was pretty sure he got a good look at his own brain. "Gods, you really are three years old, aren't you..."

"Let me out, you asshole! You know my core isn't strong enough just yet!"

He considered the wine bottle in his hand. "Say that Yunmeng wine is better than Emperor's Smile."

A scandalized gasp sounded from behind the door. "You wouldn't!"

"What's the problem? It's true," Jiang Cheng shrugged.

"But Emperor's Smile is so delicate!" Wei Wuxian protested. "It's the perfect balance of-"

"Well I guess I'll just go and find someone who does appreciate Yunmeng wine..."

"Okay, fine! Bastard. Fine, Yunmeng wine is better than Emperor's Smile!"

Smirking, Jiang Cheng released the seal on the door. Wei Wuxian stumbled out of the room that now stank of blood and excrement. Jiang Cheng amiably held out an untouched bottle, which his brother grabbed eagerly.

The deviant spilled half the fucking bottle down his chin as the other half went down his gullet, but smacked his lips like a satisfied toddler. "Hits the spot," he crooned. Mischievous eyes locked with his. "Emperor's Smile is still better, though."

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Traitor."

"Barbarian," Wei Wuxian retorted loftily.

The two bothers clinked their bottles together and took simultaneous sips.

#lanling jin #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jin ling #MOD'S STUFF #asks #prompts #ASK THE MOD #reconciliation fic #post canon #I'M BAAAAAAAACK! Real life has been nuts and a half but things are finally settling down so I'm trying to get back to my beloved hellsite!#UNHINGED YUNMENG DISASTER BOIS

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halfblood-princes-crown · 1 year

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I think half of the reason that Snape is so popular is that he's a canon redeemed villain...the other half is that he's allowed to be bitter and petty against the people who hurt him.

I agree.

I think (maybe it’s just my personal experience, idk) Snape gave us what we couldn’t get in real life. Snaters are prime examples of people who tell victims of abuse to

• “get over it”

• Because “it wasn’t that bad”

• “But you did *this* so in my eyes they did a Justice”

• And “what exactly did you do before that happened? That’s why it happened to you”

• And let’s not forget that “being angry and impacted long term by the actions of others (AND their lack of consequences) isn’t called trauma, it’s called “holding grudges” and that’s childish”

For us, it was a damn statement that he held on to that shit. It was relatable that it affected him well into his adulthood and that he didn’t tolerate anyone telling him to do and feel otherwise. The books, whether Snaters want to admit it or not, laid it out: he was valid for hating them.

Even Harry saw the bullshit after he witnessed swm

And, like we see with Snape, trauma is villainous apparently. Because how dare what we went through negatively shape our thoughts, feelings, and perspectives? How dare our trauma force us to put up a wall around ourselves and become cold and unlikable as protection? How dare we do stupid things in hopes we’d be accepted SOMEWHERE because god knows the rest of society doesn’t give a shit…How dare us?

And how dare Snape show us that traumatized ppl don’t have to be lifeless husks but brave mfs who will die to save the rest of the ppl who were too busy judging others to do it themselves. Let’s be honest, most ppl who hate on Snape wouldn’t have half the balls to do what he did…

Snape was a voice. That’s why I think he’s popular. Some ppl don’t like the voices of victims…that’s why he’s so hated.

#damn I got passionate #thank you for coming to this ted talk #severus snape #pro severus snape #pro snape #snape community #hp fandom #anti snaters #oh and to the idiots that think the tag before this is incorrect #snater means Snape hater #I’m gonna clown you if you tell me my post is tagged wrong

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growup-thatbeautiful · 7 months

Text

always an angel (never a god)

Tags: mentions of childhood abuse, language, childhood best friends, weddings, angst

There was a time when you’d painted Jake’s fingernails. “For practice,” you explained, picking out the perfect blue to match his eyes. “So I can do my own next.” You had been sitting in his backyard, a ziplock bag of colors in between you. The grass was soft and green and dewey, just at the end of summer, and the air was ripe with the smell of the peach tree you sat under. The t-shirt you wore was probably his- even then you ended up stealing half of his clothes during last-minute sleepovers and spontaneous swims in his pool.

Of course, he’d agreed- he always did. If anyone asked him- a football teammate or a nosy teacher- he would tell them to fuck off. Everyone knew that meant it had to do with you. He would take shit about anything except for you, they learned.

But his dad came home early from his business trip. Jake didn’t have time to take the polish off before George Seresin saw his son’s blue nails. He didn’t care much that they matched Jake’s eyes. They ended up matching the bruises hidden across his ribs; the bruises you tended to when he snuck through your window later that night. He didn’t need to go through the window anymore, your mom knew about his “troubles at home” and he was welcome anytime, but it kept up the childlike appearance.

He had been 13, at the time. Apparently, the nails were too much, because George stopped coming home after that. No one in the town said anything about it, and the Seresins went on like nothing changed. You knew Jake’s mom, Dolly, well enough to know that she wouldn’t tolerate anyone talking about her children, so no one ever did. You were probably the only one who ever saw Jake cry about it; it only happened once when he was the only player on his baseball team not to have a father to throw with. Dolly had searched for hours the night before to find George’s old glove, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Jake’s older sisters, Violet and Jenny, painted your nails from that point on. You never asked Jake to do it again, and he never brought it up. You were young enough to think that it really had been the nail polish to made George leave, and Jake believed whatever you did. It would be years until you realized that it probably had more to do with the fact that George never loved Dolly, hated his children, and wanted nothing more than to drink himself sober.

“Angel,” Jake used to call you. Because he’s always thought you’re the most beautiful person. Because it’s what Anakin called Padame, and you had loved Star Wars. Because what else was there to call an angel? When did he stop calling you angel? It couldn’t have been that long ago, right? When did you lose him for the last time?

When he left for boot camp, you were a senior in high school. It had been unbearable. You wrote him letters sprayed with the perfume he gave you for your sixteenth birthday. It smelled like clean laundry and green grass. You thought it smelled like home. Years later, he would tell you that it did, in fact, smell like home when he was thousands of miles away from you.

Blue eyes and sandy hair. Dirt underneath his nails and calloused hands. Electric blue skies shifting into a watercolor of purple and pink through gingham curtains at his kitchen window. Mud mixed with twigs to make witches' brew and Christmas sweaters you pretended to hate. That’s how you’ve always know him. When he came back from basic, he was the same, just different. His hair was shorter, cropped close to his head. He’s lost some weight, and the football muscle becoming leaner. Of course, he would grow the muscle back later on; he could never stand not being able to pick you up and spin you around like he did after all those football games. Ironically, his accent grew with time apart. So did his ego, but you expected that.

The first girl he brought home was the sweetest one. Short black hair and grey eyes, like a thunderstorm. She left after one week with his family, leaving behind a heartbroken Jake. You were the one to help him through it, drinking a bottle of vodka underneath the stars on a wooden fence with barbed wire cutting Xs through the sky. Jake didn’t cry about girls, but she’d messed him up pretty badly. Bad enough for him to be honest with his sisters. Bad enough for Dolly to call your mom and have her send you over with a tray of cookies that Jake never told you he hated. Violet was kind enough to make you her hangover cure the next morning after you woke up with red eyes and a dry mouth in Jake’s bed. Nothing happened, naturally, but you never could convince Violet that. Whenever Jake was upset, it was a family affair.

The next girls he brought home passed in a blur. As he got older, they got worse and worse. Fake, rich, and bratty. He said he loved them and they would be enchanted by his stories about flying a plane. They didn’t stick around long enough to hear about the parts of him that hurt, though. Not like you did. Maybe that’s why he can’t look at you the way he looks at them. They see the stained glass, you see the breakage it took to make it.

You never thought it would end like this.

An engagement ring. Shining in a Tiffany blue box, casting a kaleidoscope of color across the kitchen. A wedding veil, long and draped and crusted with diamonds at the end. White heels with tulle bows on the back. A backyard, down-to-earth wedding, despite the possibility for more. An always-present local violinist rehearsing old country love songs on the porch, a sweating pitcher of iced tea on the table beside him.

All for her and Jake.

Dolly’s house is buzzing with energy. Her family and his family all coming together in a chaotic mess of introductions and “how can I help?”s and “I’m good with whatever”s. Jake’s fiancé is the perfect future wife with a steady job and the desire for a big family. From the few times you’ve met her, she seems lovely, and Jake is completely enamored with her. For the first time, you see hearts in his eyes.

You’re just here to drop off some food- it’s supposed to be family tonight. Dolly invited you, and Jennifer begged you to stay, but they both knew that it was pointless. It’s utterly selfish of you, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s getting married. A cruel part of you tells yourself that you never even tried to get his attention.

You’re meant to be in and out, but you can never say no when Dolly asks for help. You should’ve known she would have an alternative motive when she asked you to get flowers from the back of the barn- it’s been a dead patch for years.

The sunlight peeks through the stubborn clouds, and his hair moves golden with the wind. He isn’t facing you, but he doesn’t need to for you to be able to recognize the broad expanse of his shoulders or the hanging posture of his head from the way he leans forward over the rotting wooden fence.

If you were smarter, you would turn tail and run away. Save yourself a night of crying. But you aren’t, and, about him, you never have been.

He doesn’t look up when he speaks before you get the chance to. “Were you planning on lookin’ or actually coming over to say hello?”

“I wasn’t looking at you,” you defend, knowing it isn’t true. If he catches your lie, he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he asks the question you’ve been dreading.

“Why aren’t you coming tomorrow?”

Why, you ask yourself. Why? Because you can’t stand to see Dolly embrace her like she’s a daughter. Because you don’t want to be the only one not smiling at the reception. Because you’ve loved him your whole life, and he doesn’t seem to know. Because she’s lovely and beautiful and you’re the one he used to play dress up with.

Because you’re selfish and twisted.

“Angel,” he says. And, no, he can’t do that. He can’t call you that now. Now, when he’s going down the one path you can’t follow. Now, when he’s pretending like he doesn’t know how you’ve loved him since he was eleven. Now, when you’re losing him. “Things don’t have to change. Right?” If you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds scared.

You do know better, though, so you know Jake never gets scared.

“You know that’s not true,” you respond. The way his grin falls breaks your heart in two. Here you are, standing before him, bleeding out with a smile on your face. Dying and saying the tears are out of joy. “You’re going to be a husband, Jake. I can’t be in the middle of that.”

“You’re my family,” he tries again.

“I’m your friend,” you counter. Dolly and Violet and Jenny would disagree, and, honestly, you don’t believe it either. But it gets you through the conversation. “And I don’t think she’ll appreciate my presence. None of the others ever did.”

“She’s not like that.” He means it, and you know it’s true. She’s been nothing but gracious and generous to you.

“I know,” you respond quietly. “But I can’t do it. I just can’t. I don’t expect you to understand.”

He waits a moment before he responds, his eyes looking into yours. There’s emotion in them that you aren’t used to seeing towards you. “I do.” He says it softly, and you almost don’t hear him.

“What?”

“I understand. Every time you’ve brought home someone, I feel what you’re feeling right now. The pain. Feeling like some part of you is being taken away.” He reaches up to cup your cheek with a gentle hand. Every part of you screams that you shouldn’t do this; you shouldn’t give him a reason to hate you for years. But you lean into his touch, the warmth of his palm against your cheek. It’s a fight not to beg for more. You do have some semblance of pride, though.

“It doesn’t matter.” There’s a sad smile on your face and a matching one on his face. No one should look that heartbroken the day before their wedding. “It’s too late.”

He doesn’t have to say anything; you both know it's true. With a heavy heart, you place your hand over the one cupping your face. There’s going to be a wedding band on one of those fingers tomorrow. It gives you strength to remember that.

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done; lacing his fingers with yours only to drop his hand to his side. He accepts the gesture. He lets you go.

It wasn’t meant to be. He has a new angel now, one that will love him for as long as she can. It’s for the best, you tell yourself as you walk away.

Blue eyes and blond hair. A little boy with a broken heart and blue nail polish. That’s how you’ll remember him.

#tgm #top gun #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x you #glen powell #glen powell fic #glen powell x reader #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman fic #nova writes

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