#i'm like hang on i have to get deep into this

[cerisereids]

𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 (𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲)- 𝗮.𝗵. [𝗽𝘁.𝟭]

wc- 3.9k

pairing- aaron hotchner x fem!rossi!reader

summary- down on your luck after a huge betrayal, you return to live at your father's house with your tail between your legs. you're humiliated, thoroughly convinced nothing good could come from returning home. then you meet aaron hotchner.

warnings- sfw, age gap (27-mid 40s), i'm spreading the italian american agenda w rossi!reader, reader lowkey has daddy issues but they're working on it, alcohol use, i picture this as s6 aaron, penelope is the bestiest bestie

a/n- divider from @reveriesources!!! and the literal biggest thank you on planet earth to @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi for being the best and helping me sm w this!!!

your bag hits the ground with a dejected thud. the nippy air of a virginia winter bites at your cheeks and nose as your neck cranes upward, absorbing the mansion standing before you. you haven't been back here since you were 17, and 10 years later, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up just from looking at it. a sneaking feeling creeps up your spine like a spider, you can't help but feel as if the house is staring back at you, mocking you. a sigh escapes your pursed lips, and you wipe your hands over your face before mustering your strength to pick your bag back up.

the rest of your old life has been stuffed into every spare inch of your car, waiting to break free from the confines of the compact vehicle. you're too scared to touch any other bag than the one in your white knuckle grasp. once you unload, unpack, your retreat back to your father's house becomes real. you're not ready to accept that quite yet.

you take a deep breath, slowly inching closer and closer to the porch steps. as you climb them, the light tap of your jimmy choo sneakers against the cobblestone transports you back in time: you're 16, you're sneaking in at 3 am, you don't have a care in the world, you're naïeve.

as you enter the house, you feel like a ghost of your old self, watching the scene from above. you're struck with disbelief as the same mix of vanilla and sandalwood floats through your nostrils. you gasp, glassy eyed as a flood of emotions washes over you like a tsunami. the sight of your father's living room, untouched over the past ten years- save for a new couch and some artwork- it wrings your heart out like an old dish rag. you wipe at the corner of your eye as you pull your phone out, dialing your father's number.

“principessa!” he bellows over the line, your eyes once again filling with tears at the sound of your childhood nickname, “are you settled in?”

“hi dad,” the corner of your mouth turns up at the sound of his voice, guilt preventing a full smile from forming, “yeah,” you rasp out, wiping a single tear from your cheek, “yeah. yep. i just got here, haven't unpacked yet though.”

“don't worry about that, principessa,” the pet name flows off his tongue so easily, it's hard to believe you went years without talking, “we're almost done with this case, when i'm home i'll help you move your things in. you still want your old room?”

“uh-yeah. yeah, that works. thanks papà,” you smile weakly, even though he can't see it.

he breathes out a chuckle of disbelief on the other end of the line, you haven't uttered a lick of italian in years, “alright, principessa. sleep well tonight, we should be home sometime tonight,” his voice is soft, quiet, so you know he's still at the local police station of wherever usa.

you both grow quiet, tension crackling over the line, “ok, i will. try not to work too hard,” you attempt to make a joke, but your breathlessness makes you feel like your mother 20 years prior, receiving one of your father's infamous 'it'll just be a few more days,’ phone call.

“i'll see you when i get back, okay?” is how he responds before you hang up, and you're left in the lonely, familiar silence of the house you grew up in.

as you take in the sights of your childhood, your bag falls from your shoulder once more, this time clattering against the rich mahogany floor. it falls open just slightly when it lands, and from your peripheral, you see it. the very reason you're here in the first place. you lean down to pick it up, a paperback book wobbly in your hands. your book.

you flip through the pages, your years in new york flashing like a montage in your mind. your first day at nyu, parties with fair-weather friends you naïvely trusted, graduating- ready to take on the world with your ideas and stories. you wanted so badly to fill the shadow your father unknowingly cast upon you.

you remember the pressure after graduation, nearly backbreaking. your post-grad years spent schmoozing publishers on rooftops, turning a blind eye to the deceit thickening the air. you remember the years spent hunched over your laptop in coffee shops all over the city, confessions from the deepest corners of your heart spilling onto the page.

most importantly, you remember the sting deep in your chest as you watched the news that morning. your best friend, on national television, with a new york times #1 bestseller. you remember how your face burned in fiery fury as her slender fingers curled around the book like claws. your book. the very one you're holding in your hands.

the sharp ring of the doorbell pierces through your daydream, and you glide over to the front door. you check the peephole before opening, a habit instilled in you by your father, and open it accordingly.

“hello?” you ask the very colorful blonde woman standing before you.

“hi!” she chirps, manicured nails clacking against the stiffness of her bag as hooks it around her shoulder, extending her hand for you to shake, “i'm penelope garcia. i work with your dad!”

you nod, now understandingly, as you shake her hand and smile, “hi penelope, my dad has told me lots about you, it's nice to meet you,” the niceties roll off your tongue smoothly, a rare silver lining of your time in new york, “how can i help you?” you inquire, leaning against the door frame.

“well, they are almost done with the case, they caught the bad guy and now they just have to do some paperwork. that means they don't need me anymore, so your dad asked me to check on you!” she explains, quickly patting the tips of her fingers together in an excited cheer, “please tell me if there's anything you need, if you need help with unloading your car..” she explains, listing off each action item by counting on her fingers.

“oh! well, that's very nice of you, penelope,” you study her for a moment, unsure if you feel comfortable putting this poor woman out like that. she doesn't seem to mind, though, and you're absolutely exhausted. the pile of bags stacked door to door in your car looms over you dauntingly, you suppose it wouldn't hurt to have some help. she seems fun, too, especially for an fbi agent.

finally, you move to the side to let her in, “come on in and set your stuff down, lemme grab my keys and we can start with my car, thanks!” you call your thanks over your shoulder as you pad over to the side table by the door, fishing your keys out of the bowl.

many stuffed suitcases and empty beer bottles later, you and penelope sit giggling on the floor of your childhood bedroom. it turned out that, like her and your dad, you and penelope worked incredibly well together. you were able to work out an incredibly efficient unloading system, one which involved gossiping about anything and everything while you aimlessly carried bags up the spiral staircase.

over the span of three, sweaty hours, you and penelope- who you've now tipsily dubbed 'penny', unpacked your car, as well as your lives. your stories of new york mixed with her anecdotes of the job- many including your father- eventually led you to the fridge in his garage. your eyes lit up when you spotted the 12 pack of peroni nastros. jackpot.

“i had no idea your dad even drank beer,” penelope states, her alcohol induced state causing her to find this face a lot more shocking than it really is, as she intensely studies the fifth bottle of peroni to pass her fingertips.

“he normally doesn't,” you laugh in drunken disbelief, tipping the bottle to your lips, the fizz tickling your throat, “makes sense that the one beer he would have is a peroni,” you roll your eyes gently, not that you're complaining.

“he talks about you a lot,” she remarks sweetly, her eyes glossy from the alcohol but still loving all the same, “he's very proud of you, an-and i don't know what happened to drive you all the way back here from the big apple-” she adjusts so she's kneeling in front of you, a hand placed on each shoulder, piercing you with an intense gaze, “but your father is proud of you. and i mean it!” she sticks a finger up, wide eyed, “jus'becus' allm-mywords are slurring together...i-it doesn't mean i'm a liar!” she hiccups out, and you ponder her words.

“he talks "bout me?” you beam at her, the sweet warmth of validation pooling in your stomach.

“all. the. time! with the cheesiest grin on his face, too. shows the team pictures all the time,” she downs the rest of her beer and goes to grab her sixth, the last bottle of the pack waiting for you, condensation wetting the cardboard box it sits in.

“oh god!” you throw your hands up to cover your face, "that's so embarrassing!" you squeal, pressing your fingertips into your heated cheeks.

“no! no, not at all!” penelope says, brows furrowed with such genuine concern it makes you giggle slightly, “we love seeing it. plus, it helps us all out that you're friggin gorgeous!” she shakes your shoulder as she says it.

“oh my gosh penny, stop!” your cheeks flame even hotter.

“no! it's true! you should hear what derek says about you when rossi isn't around!” she jokes, “spencer, too. he's not nearly as flirtatious as my derek but it is impossible for him to be subtle, especially when it comes to beautiful women,” she rolls her eyes playfully and you cackle.

“oh my god, that's insane,” you gasp out, nearly folded in half on the floor from embarrassment, hands once again masking your face, “boys never liked me growing up. i would sit here, in this very room, crying my eyes out over it. thank god for puberty,” you joke, a gentle smile painting your lips. you shock yourself with the vulnerable anecdote, you're not sure you've thought about that in years. something soft settles in your stomach, coating that old wound, and it's not the beer.

“cheers to that!” penelope raises her beer bottle to you, and you clink yours against it before you both take a swig.

“do you have a picture of the team? it's been a minute since my dad sent me one,” you sit up now, crisscross on the floor, both hands fidgeting with the beer bottle in your lap.

“yeah! one sec...” she trails off as she searches her camera roll, “ah!” she exclaims before turning her phone towards you.

you take a moment to absorb the photo, to take it all in. it seems to be the conterence room, or so you infer by the boxes of files scattered across the expansive table. it's dark out through the windows, and they all look exhausted as they wrap into each other, tired smiles shining bright anyway. you zoom in on your father first, a smile spreading over your lips. he's developed that same lazy eye in his right eye that all the older men have in your expansive italian family. guilt cinches your heart as you recall how much time has passed, how long you've gone without visiting.

“who are the guys that think i'm hot?” you murmur out the side of your mouth, giving her a side eye that makes her cackle.

your eyes widen once she points them out, “damn...” is all you can say, your alcohol induced haze causing you to gawk at the, admittedly, incredibly attractive men on your father's team.

“i know, right?” penelope laughs, “derek is mine though, sorry!” her voice rings out her fake apology and you laugh, recalling a story or two from your dad about them.

“he is all yours, my love,” you smile at her, “who's everybody else? i need to put names to faces here,” you settle in next to her, now both of you leaning against your bed, still in the same spot 10 years later.

“oh! so this is jj,” she drawls, pointing to a blonde woman, “and emily...and that's hotch, he's the big boss man, very serious fellow,” she explains using a faux seriousness and it makes you giggle again,

“and of course you know your dad, and our two lover boys over there,” she points out derek and spencer again with an eye roll. you laugh, but your eyes linger on hotch. he stood tall and strong in the middle of his team, not a strand of dark hair out of place, clad in an extremely well-fitting suit and a tired, but proud, smile. he's gorgeous. you can't help but wonder what he thinks when your dad shows them your photos, now completely uninterested in derek and spencer. “and meeee!” she holds her arms out in grandeur, snapping you out of your daze.

“the best member!” you point at her accusingly as you say it, raising your beer to your lips and finishing it off before grabbing the last bottle.

“i know!” she jokes, and you just can't seem to stop laughing.

“that's a sweet picture, you guys seem like you're close,” you remark gently as you lay back on the ground again, legs curling in penelope's lap. the fact that your dad has been well taken care of all this time sways your guilt just slightly.

"we are, your dad is a great agent, 'n an incredibly valued member of our team," she blinks at you, "are you close?" she asks gently, testing the waters.

"um, more so now than ever, i guess," you laugh, "he divorced my mom when i was really young, so i didn't hear from him much growing up," penelope's mouth crooks to the side as you speak,

"he reached out when i was in high school, though, and he had this room remodeled so i could stay here. i hated being here, though. i was so mad at him," you roll your eyes, "i was the poorest little rich girl there ever was," you inwardly cringe at your past petulance as you take another sip of your beer. that is a scar alcohol is going to heal, just for tonight.

"hey, you were young! you were angry!" she shouts, already advocating on your behalf even though you've only known her about three hours,

"i'm sure he understood, don't be so hard on yourself, sunshine" she nudged your leg with her hand and you smile.

"i think you might be right, penny," you sit up again, taking another sip of beer "i took off for new york the second i graduated, i wasn't even 18 yet," you shake your head, your gaze planted on your legs laid flat in front of you.

"did you go to school out there?" she inquires.

"mmhm," you hum, emptying the last drop of beer, "studied english and creative writing at nyu, didn't really call him that much my first few years out there," you admit regrettably, "we talked more the older i got, though. i started to miss him, so i came here," it wasn't a lie, it just wasn't necessarily the entire truth. you knew penelope could tell, too, you know better than to lie to an agent, you lived at your dad's in high school for god's sake.

"well, at the end of the day, love saves us all, honestly," she drawls out, and you remember how drunk the two of you are. it snaps you out of your daddy-issues-somberness, and you double over in laughter.

"maybe we should try and sober up," you gasp out, the two of you bursting into another round of giggles, "come on," you whisper, like you're two teenagers trying not to get caught at a sleepover,

"let's get some toast and some water and some motrin," you hiss, wide eyed, like you just had the best idea on the planet.

you scramble over one another on your way to the steps, and penelope is so concerned about the frequency of your giggles.

"what's so funny?!" penelope asks as you two descend the stairs. it didn't take long on your journey for you to start laughing again, at nothing in particular, just your sheer, utter, drunkenness.

"i don't know!" you whisper back over your shoulder. taking your gaze off the steps proves to be a mistake as you miss one of them, nearly plummeting down the wooden staircase. penelope slings her forearms underneath yours, saving you from certain spiral-shaped doom.

"oh my god!" you squeal and you both burst into another fit of giggles. you regain your balance before finally getting down into the kitchen.

popping two slices of bread in your dad's way-too intricate toaster, you move about the expansive kitchen to the fridge, grabbing butter and then some knives to spread it with. once you close the refrigerator, you're greeted by two men in the dimly lit kitchen, go-bags hanging from their shoulders.

"oh my god!" you scream at the top of your lungs, the items in your hands immediately slip from your grasp, clattering to the floor.

"what!!!" penelope comes running in from the living room, draped in your father's microfiber linen blanket. she turns a brighter light on to reveal your father standing with another man in the kitchen, quirked eyebrows mirroring each other almost exactly.

“oh, my god, you guys!” she exclaims, hand over her heart as you drop to pick up what you've spilled, “you cannot just do that!” she scolds them, before taking the bags from each man as she inquires your father about the end of the case.

your eyes linger on the taller man standing next to your father as he chats to penelope. it's hotch. the man in the photo. the man in the photo. you can tell it was a long case, with the way his tie and suit jacket are folded neatly over his forearm, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. his brown hair is slightly messy up top, like he'd been running his fingers through it. he's even more beautiful in person. your heart picks up its pace, giddiness swarming throughout your stomach like butterflies. then, the reality of the situation hits you like a freight train. why is he here? now? while you're this drunk and sweaty? a loose cardigan is draped over an old tank top, sweatpants hanging low on your hips.

you turn towards the kitchen counter, gaze turned downward, though you could feel his eyes burning a hole through the side of your face. you make a weak attempt to spruce yourself up, dusting away the flyaways falling from your bun and quickly applying some tinted lip balm. you sneak a peek at him, drawing your gaze to the side just slightly, before looking back up fully.

he's already looking at you when you turn to face him, his deep, brown eyes sparkling in the low light of the kitchen. the contact makes your heart drop into your stomach, twisting and turning your insides like you've been on a rollercoaster. his playful gaze, the small uptick of his lip in the most tantalizing smirk, they tell you he knows exactly what you were doing. fucking profilers.

“principessa!” your father gushes once penelope releases him from her metaphorical clutches. you reluctantly rip your eyes away from the man across from you and flash your father a demure smile.

he strides across the kitchen, past hotch, with his arms outstretched. you mirror him meekly, having lost every last bit of confidence in front of this newfound audience.

“hello, papà,” you murmur quietly into his shoulder, relaxing just slightly in his hold. it's been a long time since you'd hugged your father, you didn't realize how much you'd missed it.

“my, my...” he trails off, holding your face in his hands, “is it possible you've gotten more beautiful since i last saw you?” he punctuates his question with a loud kiss on the forehead, followed by one on each cheek. it was how he greeted you every time he saw you, something his nonna passed to his mamma, who then passed it to him, which he has now passed to you.

“i get it from my mamma!” you chirp, walking back over to the golden brown bread popped up in the toaster.

“you're very funny,” he waves a finger at you while you all let out small bouts of laughter, “did you girls enjoy yourselves tonight?” he smirks at you and penelope, still quite intoxicated.

“you have amazing beer,” you point the butter knife in your father's direction as you say it, and you receive yet another round of laughs. your eyes snap toward the quiet, high pitched chuckle coming from your right. the smile immediately falls from your face when you lock eyes with him, not of disdain, but of the sheer, gut wrenching pull you feel towards him. it almost aches.

“oh! let me not forget...this is aaron hotchner, he's our unit chief,” your father claps the back of the tall brunette beside him, who then reaches his hand out for you to shake.

“hi,” he says gently, with a smile to match, “you can call me aaron,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, but direct all the same. you catch the way his obscenely large hand dwarfs yours, and you have to stop yourself from gulping akin to a cartoon character. if he'd held onto you any longer, hearts probably would've formed in your eyes.

“hi, aaron, it's nice to meet you,” you coo, your sweet, gentle gaze poring into his wide, dark eyes.

“you as well,” a ghost of a smile paints his lips as he sticks his hands in his pockets, “we've heard so much about you at the unit, it's nice to finally meet you,” there's a glint in his eye as he scans over your face, letting his gaze drop ever so slightly to your neck. he corrects himself soon after, his eyes snapping back to yours before they could go any lower.

“likewise,” you smirk, that one look igniting a flame low in your belly. you silently revel in the tiniest hint of red grazing his neck, just for a moment, but that moment is cut short before you can tease him any further.

“so, what brings you here so late at night, sir?” penelope reenters the room with your father in tow, and you hadn't even noticed they left the room.

“oh! i-um i need to borrow a globe from david,” penelope and your father both raise a brow to the way he fumbles over his words, and you hide a shit eating grin by taking a bite of your toast.

“a globe?” you inquire, passing penelope's toast to her, which invokes a happy squeal from the blonde.

“for my son,” he quickly explains, gaze falling to the floor as he backs away just slightly, “he needs it for a school project. shall we?” he hastily exits the room, your father following suspiciously in tow.

“what was that?” penelope whispers through bread crumbs, her eyes wide.

“i have no idea!” you hiss back, “but that was something, right?”

she nods, eyes wide, “i don't think i've ever heard the word 'um' leave his lips before tonight!”

“oh my god,” you groan, plopping your head in your hands.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x rossi!reader #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner criminal minds #aaron hotchner smut

[fallingfor-fics]

Can you please do a one shot of like the abbot crew going out to a gay bar. Melissa and Y/N are secretly dating, and a girl from a different group approaches Melissa but doesn’t no how to take no for an answer. Leading to Y/N stepping in and a bar fight breaks out between the two and the groups they came with. Ending the night with Melissa and Barbara bailing Y/N and the rest of the abbot crew out and Melissa falling in even more love with Y/N for defending her. Maybe some smut if your feeling up to it…I had a dream about it…please and thank youuu😋🫶🏽

Sorry this took so long!

I didnt do it exactly how you asked but I hope you like it still!!

Cat Fight - Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Word count: 5k

Warnings: bar fight, dubcon, all around smut, sex on the kitchen counter without wiping it down first

Summary: basically the ask but no jail time is served lol

Every time you went out with Melissa you always had a blast, you would drink, dance, and talk deep into the night about endless things, and then go home with her. It was one of your favorite weekend activities. This outing was different though because you were being joined by Janine, Jacob, Barbara, and Gregory-- quite the bunch to be tagging along to one of the more popular but casual LGBT bars downtown. You don't even know how it happened but here you were, sitting at the bar squeezed between Jacob and Gregory, sneaking glances at Melissa from two seats down. It's not like you were having a bad time, conversation was fun with the group, and you loved hanging out with them, but weekends were sacred. These short two days were reserved for Melissa since you couldn't express affection all week at school, and rarely spent the night together during the week. But alas, you were cracking jokes to pass the time, and admiring your beautiful girlfriend from afar. 

“I just think its funny that Gregory has been hit on more times tonight by other guys than Jacob has.” Barbara says as she stirs her drink. This causes a laugh from the group but an eye roll from Jacob, and Gregory can be seen shaking his head.

“Well that's what happens when you buy a drink for a guy.” You said smiling and taking a sip. 

“Ok for the last time, I didn't know it was a guy, he had very pretty hair.” he laughed and everyone started to giggle along. You could hear Melissas laugh above all the rest and it warmed your heart. You turned to face the bartender to order a shot, hoping it would keep your mind off her. You had been hiding your relationship for months so you weren't sure why tonight was becoming so difficult and mentally draining. Maybe it was the bar, the place you two always went to and got to be yourselves, or maybe it was just because she wasn't looking at you as much as you were her. Melissa wasn't oblivious to the glances you were sending her way, but she knew better than to allow her eyes to linger a little too long on yours with Barbara and Jacob sitting right there. She was using every ounce of her will power to remain cool and casual.

“I'm getting another. Does anyone want one?” You ask looking around and everyone but Janine and Melissa, who were driving, nodded in agreement. 

“Great. Another round please sweetheart!” you say with a smile to the woman behind the bar and she nods, grabbing the shot glasses. You can feel Melissa's eyes on you and you know it's because of your over-kindness and endearing name you gave to the bartender, but you don't look in her direction and instead try to distract yourself by making conversation with Jacob.

The shots are lined up in front of you and you all say cheers before downing them, you make eye contact with Melissa when you are setting your glass back down and you feel your heart hurt. It's definitely the liquor mixed with general missing her, but you feel another wave of dread come over you. You look to the bartender and tap the shot glass to signal for her to pour another. You can feel Melissa giving you a concerned look but you ignore it. Jacob, Janine, and Gregory get up to go dance and you decide to join them, taking your shot and setting it down, glancing at Melissa and heading to follow them. Melissa watches as you walk to the dance floor with a slight sway in your step and lets out a small sigh. She knows how hard it is for both of you to keep this up sometimes, but it still slightly frustrates her how much you let it affect you on nights like these, when you do things like this in front of her knowing she can't step in to stop you. But she knows you're a grown woman and can handle yourself, so she just watches from the bar, listening to Barb rant about something. 

You are tipsy enough to dance confidently but without embarrassing yourself, you still have a mixed drink in hand so you are conscious of not spilling that, and you don't want to look too trashy with your dancing. You also know Melissa has to be watching you now, so you sway your hips and pull out all the moves that you can do casually but you know will be keeping her eyes glued to you. You make light conversation over the music with the others when suddenly you hear a gasp from Jacob.

“Oh my god guys look, Ms. Schemmenti has a womanly caller.” he snides and everyone looks over with a grin, you turn to look as well and sure enough a skanky looking woman has walked over to Melissa and is standing very close talking to her. 

“I didn't even know she had game like that.” Gregory claims after the woman starts laughing at something Melissa says. You roll your eyes but the group, being nosey as always, casually dances closer to the bar. 

“I mean she's hot but I didn't know she could pull women in a place like this.” Jacob says and they all nod. The group knew you were queer, but Melissa’s previous marriage and overall life confidence kept them from questioning her own sexuality. This fact aided in hiding your relationship and Melissa didn't seem to mind. You can't take your eyes off the scene. The woman is dressed in a body con bright blue dress with cutouts. She should be at a rave in an outfit like that, you think as you take a sip of your drink with a bitter glare. 

“So how about you let me buy you a drink?” the woman says with a smile as she twirls her hair. 

“Thanks, but I'm still working on mine.” Melissa smiles politely as she gestures to her beer in hand. 

“Haha you’re funny! Okay what about shots? On me of course!” the woman tries again and you feel your cheeks grow hot at the way the woman is shamelessly checking Melissa out, taking her in from head to toe. She then reaches up to play with Melissa's hair and you feel yourself stumble a bit as you zone out on her fingers touching Melissa's red hair. Hair that should only have fingers tangled in it if they were your own. You refrained from crushing the cup in your hand as you felt your skin get warm. It was no secret you were an incredibly jealous person, you two had even had this conversation when watching Moulin Rouge one night. You had told Melissa that the representation of love and jealousy in that movie was the perfect example of how you feel in deep relationships. You knew she could feel your gaze burning holes through the blonde that stood next to her

“Look I appreciate the offer, but really I'm okay.” Melissa declined once more and you watched as you finished the rest of your drink and walked back to the bar to get another. Melissa saw you and watched as you talked to the bartender. Barbara stood between you and Melissa and you avoided looking over at her until you had another shot in you at least. You then heard the woman speak up again in her agitating valley accent and rolled your eyes, deciding if you walked away it may have more of an effect on Melissa than if you stood around seething. You walked back to the others and kept dancing but made sure you could still see Melissa. Barbara left the bar to go to the bathroom and you felt a slight instinct to keep a stronger eye on Melissa in case that woman tried anything. You and Melissa made eye contact as you danced and your heart began to race as you couldn't help a small smile form when seeing her sparkling eyes look into yours. She grinned and then looked back over to the woman. 

“How about a dance then?” the woman smirks.

“I don't think my girlfriend will like that very much.” she says and this catches your attention, it was loud enough for you to hear, but the music and singing crowd allowed it to go unheard by the others. You don't stop swaying your hips gently to the music, but you focus in on their conversation again.

“Haha and who is your girlfriend?” the woman says with a cocky tone. 

Melissa gestures to you with a smile, and you look the woman up and down with a glare, looking at Melissa and then back to the other woman.

“Well I don't see much, I can handle her.” she hums and you stop dancing and straighten up as she turns to face you.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” Melissa scoffs at the woman.

“Awe, why? Are you worried you might end up enjoying a night with me far more than whatever this loose little girl could ever offer you?” she quips and you feel your fists clench as you make your way over. Melissa straightens up and crosses her arms prepared to defend you when you chime in first. 

“Are you dense? She's clearly not interested.” you mutter to the woman who laughs and Melissa smiles. 

“No, Y/n it's fine she was just leaving.” Melissa says trying to keep the conversation from escalating. 

“Actually, if your girlfriend here really liked you why wouldn't she be out there dancing with you instead of sitting here talking to me?” the woman said with a grin and you shook your head. You knew you couldn't say much and draw the attention of the others but this woman was really getting under your skin for some reason. You saw Barbara coming back from the bathroom and bit your tongue, rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh. 

“Look, just do yourself a favor and walk away.” Melissa said to the woman and she shook her head. 

“No not after an ugly bitch like her called me stupid!” 

The group on the dance floor heard that and all came over to observe, drawing more attention to your friends and now the woman's own friends came to see what was happening. 

“Lex what's going on?” one of her friends asked and she scoffed.

“This whore just called me stupid.” Lex said, clearly very drunk as she slurred her words, and probably under the influence of a little more than alcohol.

“Woah woah woah lets not over react, this isn't the place for this ladies how about you walk away and we all just enjoy our nights.” Gregory spoke up. 

“Nah mind your own business asshole! This is between me and this fucking bitch.” Lex slurred out while doing loud hand gestures. 

You sighed and could feel your face growing flushed and you ran a hand through your hair as you tried to just ignore the woman. It was one thing to call you names, you could be the bigger person and walk away with that, but people being a dick to your friends is not something you care about maintaining decorum for. Still you took a deep breath and turned to get a drink, but you felt a hand shove your shoulder. 

“Yeah walk away like a pussy, leave your girlfriend to a real woman.” Lex mocked and you let out a sigh before realizing you were now drunk enough to use that as an excuse for the following action. Disregarding the comment that left the group slightly confused you turned, grabbing Melissa's beer from her hand, and tossing it on the girls hideous blue dress. 

“Oh shit.” You heard Jacob and Janine remark from behind you. 

“Y/n, hon come on, I think it's time we go guys.” Melissa said, reaching to grab your arm to lead you out but the woman reaches up to slap you but you reach out and grab her hair instead. In a blink of an eye the whole bar is now staring at the both of you as exclamations can be heard from both groups and Melissa is yelling every swear she can conjure up as her and Gregory are trying to get you off the other woman. You had her by the hair still and went to throw another punch until you felt a large pair of arms grab you around the stomach and pull you back, another large man grabs the other woman and you realize it's the bar's security guys. You hear your friends all yell at security to put you down, and he yells back and tells them they all have to leave or they are gonna call the cops. Barbara is the first one to pay off the tab and lead everyone out. 

“Have some decorum and just get outside!” She orders the group and they gather their things and listen. You don't put up a fight, but security still has a firm grip on your arms and is practically dragging you outside. 

“Okay Jesus I dont think this is necessary she's listening!” Melissa yells at the large man who just ignores her. He roughly lets go of you once you're outside and Melissa stabilizes you with gentle hands on your arm and hip. Eventually you are all waiting on the sidewalk as Janine goes to pull up her car. 

“Ok so that was wild.” Jacob mutters after an awkward silence. You lean against the wall of the building and sigh, Melissa looking over at you then back to the others. 

“Yeah what happened exactly? And why did that crazy lady call you her girlfriend?” Gregory asked and you didn't have the energy to say anything, or even look up at any of them. 

“Um. That lady wasn't taking a hint, so Y/n came to tell her to back off, and I guess she got the wrong idea, and things just escalated.” Melissa muttered as a cover. Since you had been so good at hiding things up until this point they all nodded without a doubt. Janine pulled up and Gregory and Jacob got in. You didn't move from your place on the wall and Melissa looked over at you then back to the others. 

“Barb you go ahead with them, I'll drive Y/n home tonight since it’s on my way.” Melissa said with a concerned voice and Barbara smiled. 

“Okay, I will see you ladies at school on Monday.” Barbara said before getting in. the rest of the group waved and Janine drove away. Leaving you and Melissa on the sidewalk. You still hadn't looked up or said a word. Your legs were getting tired from standing against the wall, and your cheeks felt slightly numb from the chilly air. You could feel your lip was bleeding but was pretty sure that was the only damage besides a slightly bruised ego. Melissa came to stand next to you, poking at your arm. 

“Are you ready to go, hon?” she said softly and you didn’t say anything. You finally looked up at her and she saw the blood dripping from your pouted lips and a faint red mark on your face that was slowly disappearing. 

“Baby your lip-” she went to wipe the blood but you cut her off.

“I'm sorry.” you muttered simply.

Taken aback she shook her head with furrowed brows, “For what?” 

“For making a scene, getting us kicked out-- almost having the group find out… all because of my fragile ego.” you scoffed hearing yourself and looked down to play with your fingers.

“Sweetheart, don't be sorry for any of that! I have never had someone, that wasn't family, literally fight a person for me.” She said playfully, using her hand to gently lift your chin. “I mean you did that because you care about me and your friends, not because you're fragile.”

You shook your head in response and opened your mouth to mutter another comment, but she stopped you with a kiss. She cupped your face with her hands gently, and softly kissed your lips with an underlying passion, being cautious of your busted lip, and stroking your cheek with her thumb. She pulled away with sparkling eyes and a grin which you met with a larger smile before reaching for her jacket to pull her into you again. You kissed her deeply ignoring the slight pain it caused, and ran your hand up her body to cup her cheek. Your breathing grew heavy as Melissa pushed you into the wall with her hips and you opened your mouth slightly allowing her to take over. Her tongue ran over your lip, she could taste the blood from your cut and the liquor on your breath, but she still deepened the kiss by letting her tongue enter your mouth and dance around your own. You eventually pulled away to catch your breath and you rested your forehead against hers as you shut your eyes and played with her hair. You had almost forgotten how much you had to drink until you stumbled slightly and she instinctively grabbed your waist. 

“I love you Y/n, and tonight only proved to me just how much I do” she spoke softly in her velvety voice and you smiled innocently with a red stained lip. She brushed over it with her thumb, and then stood up straight. 

“I love you too.” You said simply before feeling your eyes get tired. 

“Cmon, we are getting you home.” She said with a laugh and you nodded, allowing her to take your hand and walk you to her car. 

You knocked out the whole drive back, Melissa's hand placed on your thigh the whole way. She tapped it gently when you arrived and you opened your eyes to see you were at her house and you looked at her with a smile. 

“What? You didn't think I was just going to leave you alone at your place did you?” she mocked you with love and you laughed, getting out of the car and following her inside. 

“I think the nap in the car was exactly what I needed because I feel much better now.” You said smiling at her as you hopped up on the kitchen counter.

“Oh really? Well drink this whole glass of water and then we will see.” She said handing you a cup she filled from the fridge. She kept her eyes on yours as you drank it and she took off your shoes for you, placing them on the floor before kicking off her own. You finished the glass and placed it down as she turned to face you again. You grabbed her by her waist and pulled her to you, running your hands through her hair and admiring her beauty. 

“Don't look at me like that baby.” She said in a deep tone, her eyes full of a serious yet lustful gleam as she moved her hands to rest on the counter on either side of you.

“Like what?” you smiled, not moving your hands from her, tangling in her hair, running over her shoulders and arms, and then back to tuck her hair behind her ears.

“Like you want to fuck me.” she said firmly with a grin. You were surprised she didn't hesitate to call you out and this sent a chill down your spine. 

“Well, what's so wrong with that?” you teased, leaning in closer so you were inches from her face, your eyes darting between her dark green ones.

“The issue is how sexy it is but I'm not one for coercion.” She replies, moving to push herself away, but you grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her closer so her torso was between your legs and against the counter. You draped your arms over her shoulders and hovered your lips over hers, teasing her with a gentle peck to the lips. You pulled back slightly with a grin and she stared at you lovingly.

“Its not coercion if I want it and i'm barely even tipsy.” you say with a smile.

“Please Melissa, I just risked my life for you and I need to feel you.” You said with dramatics and a hint of sarcasm.

“Ha, now who is doing the coercing!” She laughed and you shook your head.

“Not coercion, I’m begging you,” you whined before pushing her away slightly so you could slink off the counter and onto your knees on the cold kitchen tile. “I'm literally on my knees for you… mommy.” You said with a grin, looking up at her with shining eyes. She smiled and let out a scoff. Your hands slid up the side of her legs, slowly over her thighs until you got to the button of her pants, causing her to suck in a breath before looking into your eyes again. You could see the internal battle she had and before you could unbutton her pants, she grabbed your hands and pulled you up to her. She pulled you in by your waist and kissed you deeply, letting out the breath she’d been holding in as she ran her hands down your waist to grab your ass. You moaned into the kiss and pressed your torso against hers. When you pulled away to catch your breath she smirked at you and sucked in her lip. 

“Okay but no taking care of me tonight, it's all about you baby.” She said, finding a compromise for her decision and you grinned, slightly upset you wouldn't be able to make her feel good. 

“Anything you say.” You nodded desperately and she let out a beautiful laugh before backing away and grabbing your hips to push you up against the counter. She kissed you again and your hands found her cheeks as you deepened the kiss with force. She ran her hands down your back and grabbed under your thighs to lift you onto the counter, not breaking the kiss. You groaned from the smooth execution and she smiled into the kiss. She pulled away and looked you in the eyes as she pushed your skirt up to your waist and pulled your panties off. You played with her hair as she did so and then felt your thighs squeeze together at the cold air and the way she was looking you up and down. 

“God you're stunning Melissa.” You said with a shaky breath as her hand pushed between your thighs and brushed your core with slow motions. 

“I could say the same thing about you hon, now be a good girl and lay back.” She said in a deep and sensual tone. You quickly nodded, leaning in for another deep kiss, pushing your chest against hers, cupping her cheek with your hand. You allowed your tongue to enter her mouth and kissed her with passion. She smiled into the kiss at your eagerness and she pulled away, raising her eyebrow at you and you placed another peck to her lips before doing as you were told. You pushed your hair out from under you to be laid out on the counter and allowed yourself to relax slightly. You felt her hands bend your knees and place your feet on the edge of the counter to give her better access.  The cold air caused your skin to prickle with small goosebumps and you felt your heart speed up as you awaited her touch. She traced her hands gently up and down your thighs before placing kisses along the inside of them. Her cold fingers came up to rub your clit and your body twitched, sensitive from being deprived for so long. You slightly leaned into her touch but the limited space on the counter kept you from doing so. 

“Just relax baby, I want you to be able to remember how good I treated you when you wake up tomorrow.” she said with a cocky grin that you could practically feel. She leaned in and licked a stripe up your folds without hesitation. Collecting your slick on her tongue before lightly sucking on your bud. You let out a moan and she gripped your thighs tighter to keep them in place as she continued to suck on your clit, licking circles around it. She moved a hand from your thigh to her mouth, placing two fingers in her mouth before rubbing your clit and then inserting them into you. You let out a hoarse gasp and she gently curled her fingers inside you, moving her head back down to continue torturing your clit. You arched your back off the counter and moaned at the new angle and she hummed into you causing you to moan again. 

“Fuck, Melissa!” You exclaimed, letting your hand come to her hair, brushing it from her face. She felt you clench around her fingers and held back a grin at how ready you were for her already. She thrusted her fingers harder, stroking inside of you and hitting your sensitive spot. Never taking her lips off your core, her tongue running over your clit before she continued to suck on it. You let out another loud moan and your free hand came to your mouth so you could bite on your knuckles, your eyes closing shut tight. 

“No baby move your hand I wanna hear you scream as you cum for me.” she said, not stopping her thrusts.

“Ah, ok- yes mommy.” you gasped out, tugging on her hair slightly, earning a deep groan from Melissa that you could feel. Your juices covered her face and hand now and you felt yourself clenching around her. You arched off the counter again and she brought her other hand off your thigh to rub your clit so she could talk you through your release. 

“That’s it my love, you're doing so good, cum for me hon.” She said, smiling down at you with dark eyes. You felt your release wash over you at the praise and your body shook as your orgasm flooded through you and you clenched around her fingers. Your mind went dark as you moaned loudly, fire spreading through your veins. As you caught your breath you opened your eyes. Melissa pulled her fingers from you and you used the little strength you had to try and sit up. She snaked her hand around your back to pull you up to her and you met her with a smile and flushed cheeks. She lifted her fingers to your mouth and you took them in without hesitation, tasting yourself on her. 

“You did so good for me baby.” She muttered in her deep, raspy voice, pulling her fingers from your mouth and back down to your center to sooth your sensitive clit.

“I love you.” You said with a smile. 

“I love you too.” She said simply and you leaned in to kiss her gently, looking in her eyes as you placed a peck to her lips. She took your lower lip between her teeth and you winced. She pulled away with a sarcastic grin and furrowed brows.

“Oh i'm sorry sweetheart, did I hurt your lip?” she brushed her thumb over the cut that was now bleeding slightly again. 

“A little. But its okay,” you said not taking your eyes from hers as you moved her hand to rub circles on your core slowly. “I liked it.” you added and she raised a brow. Moving to kiss her again she moved her head back slightly and thrusted her fingers back inside you without warning, she watched with a grin as your face contorted in pleasure. Your brows furrowed and your lip pouted. 

“Give me one more.” she ordered and you nodded, leaning to kiss her again but she pulled back, teasing you once more as her fingers moved inside you. The angle allowed her to curl into you deeply and you let out a gasp, her thumb brushed your clit in circles and you felt your second orgasm approaching rapidly. 

“Yes, mommy please don't stop.” you muttered breathlessly and she smirked, moving her fingers faster. You clenched around her and felt heat pool in your core as your orgasm approached. 

“Look at me baby.” She said and you met her gaze, furrowed brows and your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as you moaned. Your legs shook slightly and you felt your thighs move to clench together and she didn't stop you. You sat up straight which allowed her fingers to reach deeper inside you and you gasped. Her eyes were full of lust and mischief as she looked into your pleading ones. Your eyes shifted to her puffy pink lips and you looked back in her eyes, silently begging. 

“Please kiss me Melissa.” you begged, your release approaching. She gave in and kissed you deeply, watching as your eyes closed and you moaned into the kiss. Her fingers sped up and she deepened the kiss, her tongue roaming around your mouth with passion and control. Your eyes squeezed tight as you felt the wave of relief crash over you and you moaned into the kiss, your hands moving to wrap around her face, cupping her jaw so there wasn't a chance she could pull away. She allowed her fingers to slow and you grinded against them as you rode out you high. Her other hand came to grip your waist, her thumb pushing into your hip. You finally pulled away and your foreheads met as you both caught your breath. 

“I'm so proud of you hon.” she said with a smile and you gently nodded.

“I'm definitely going to remember this.” you quipped and she let out a laugh before pulling you off the counter, your legs wrapping around her and her hands holding you by your thighs as she carried you. 

“Let's get you cleaned up and into bed.” she said sweetly into your ear and you allowed your glorious lover to carry you up the stairs and to her bedroom.

xx

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa x reader #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter

[daenysx]

hi angel! what about reader is best friends with aegon and she likes him but modern! aemond likes her. aemond always comforts her when aegon chooses to blow off their hangouts and then she slowly falls for aemond 😇

hi lovely, thank you for requesting! i liked this so much, i hope you enjoy too. requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort ♡

aemond can't stand the wrinkle forming between your eyebrows whenever aegon disappoints you.

"sorry, aemond." you say, blushing hard on your cheeks. "i thought he'd be home, he didn't answer my texts."

his hands shake, he curls his fingers to relieve a bit of tension. "it's okay." he manages to say. "but i don't know where he is."

you look at your hands, biting your bottom lip like you do every time you are upset. aemond hates how he's unable to comfort you, how useless. you try to smile after a second, looking at him with big eyes as if you're trying to stop yourself from crying.

there's always a distance between you and aemond. "sorry for bothering you again." you say, giving him one of your easy smiles. "i'll just leave."

you take a step back. aemond would be damned if he let you go. "wait." he calls. "do you wanna come in?"

you look unsure. you probably think aemond only plays nice with you just because he feels guilty for his brother. the truth is far from it. aemond once saw you cry because of aegon, how your shoulders were shaking and your lips bitten raw. the image of your sad face haunts him, knowing how he'll never be the one you care about makes him wanna beat aegon. how dare he? who does he think he is? how can he have you as his best friend and not even bother to answer your texts when aemond is desperate for one smile from your lips?

"i took enough of your time." you say.

"no, i-" and now he can't even form a proper sentence. "please."

your eyes find his face. "you don't have to do it, aemond."

he doesn't know what you're talking about. "what?"

"you don't have to try to fix his mistakes." you say, somehow you look bolder and more upset, it shatters his heart.

"i'm not- i-"

"i appreciate the effort, i really do." you say. "you probably think how much of a fool i'm being by waiting for his text when he's out there hanging out with people i don't even know."

you stop, take a deep breath. that's when a teardrop rolls on your cheek. "i know it's stupid." you say. "i know he'll never look at me the way i look at him but i can't control how i feel. i- i just-"

your entire body is shaking as you start crying loudly. fuck. aemond's never been good with crying people but he'd burn down the entire world if he could stop your tears. he feels a protective wave in his chest, it's urging him to take the step to get you. you try to dry your tears, totally unable to calm down. you can't even look at aemond, how pathetic are you being right now? crying in front of your so-called best friend's baby brother. aemond should have better things to do other than listening to a girl cry over aegon.

"i'm so sorry." you say when you can finally breathe. "i'm not being fair to you. i'll just leave, you can-"

aemond snaps out of the trance. he rushes to you, his long arms are wrapped around your shoulders easily. you melt, starved for a comforting touch. he holds the back of your neck, fingers lightly wandering in your hair as he puts your head on his shoulder. you bury your face to his neck, wrap your arms around his waist. he smells nice. so nice like the rain or soft morning breeze.

aemond doesn't know how he'd wait so long to hug you. he closes his eye to the smell of your shampoo. his mind is clear like it never has been before. is this what holding you feels like? his skin is desperate for any contact, he's been starved for so long. he can get addicted to holding you easily, the possibility of never doing it again terrifies him. he loses his voice, he loses his patience.

you cry on his shoulder. he rubs a slow hand on your back, his lips tight on your head. he can feel the wetness of your tears on his skin, his fingers itch to dry them up.

you pull back, mortified. you look like you're gonna say sorry again but he can't have that. not again. you're not the person who should say sorry for having feelings or being brave enough to accept them.

"you're not being fair to me." he says. "you don't even know what you do to me."

he begs himself to shut up. he'll lose you. he'll lose the smallest contact with you if he keeps talking.

"i-" you start, still in his arms.

"no." he cuts your words. "it's not fair at all."

maybe people are right about the targaryen madness. nothing he does right now makes sense to him but he can't help himself. he just can't go on like this, not anymore. not when he got you in his arms.

"he- he doesn't deserve you." aemond says with a low voice. "but you know that, don't you? you've always been too clever for your own good."

"what can i do about that, aemond?" you whisper. "i'm trying to get over it. he's my best friend, do you see how fucked up this is?"

aemond shakes his head, his hand on your waist tightens. "trust me, i know about fucked up feelings. i know- i can understand how terrible you feel."

"and i didn't mean to be unfair to you." you continue. your tears dry on your cheeks. "i know you don't have to deal with this but you're nice enough to care about me. i won't disturb you again, i promise."

he takes a deep breath to stop himself from screaming. you're killing him. you don't even know.

"do you think the goodness in my heart is the reason for caring about you?" he asks, can't help gritting his teeth.

you look confused. he wants to kiss you so bad.

"you know what?" he backs off. "let's stop this- just forget i said anything."

he stops holding you, angry at himself for being a coward. he can feel the pins and needles on his hands, his shoulders are tense again.

"are you kidding me?" you ask, your voice is sad all over again. "why- why are you trying to mess with me? have i been that much of a bother to you?"

"stop!" he says loudly. you don't flinch, just stay on your spot with fresh tears on your eyes. aemond will not be the reason of your tears.

"stop saying that you're bothering me." he begs. "stop it- i can't take it anymore."

"then why?"

"because i'm in love with you." he says finally. "i've been in love with you for so long but you're not even aware of my existence when you're not asking for aegon! you think you're the only one with fucked up feelings?"

he kept everything to himself for so long, now that he starts he can't stop.

"you don't know what it's like to see you crying because of that prick. you don't know how i wished that it could be me- just for once let it be me who you care about. you don't know-"

he gets on his knees at the door to his apartment. his face pressed against his palms, staying vulnerable in front of you. he is so fucked. he half expects you to run away.

you are frozen on your feet. you always thought aemond was just being nice to you, all those times he offered you a cup of coffee and listened to you ramble about things. all the smiles he gave you, you were thinking he thought you are pathetic. you don't know what to think now.

it's like you're being controlled by someone else when you kneel beside him. your gentle hands pull his face to your shoulder just like he did minutes ago. you stroke his hair, nails scratching on his neck to give him a little peace. he holds onto you. you hold him back.

"i'm sorry." you say. "i'm so sorry, aemond."

"stop it." he says, finding his voice. "you are not guilty of my feelings."

"i wish i'd known before." you whisper. "i never meant to hurt you."

"don't- please don't run away from me." he pleads. "you don't have to see my face ever again but- i can't lose you."

you kiss his hairline just because it feels right. he feels right at that moment, your legs are numb on his doorstep and your fingers are quick to ease his worries.

"you're not losing me." you say. "i promise i won't leave."

aemond has never begged for anything in his life. wishing is different but begging would make him feel like a desperate man. he's too proud for it. he loses all his pride at your feet.

you cup his cheeks, looking at him through wet lashes. "it's not okay." you say. "it's not."

"i know you'll never feel the same for me." he says, words feel like poison on his lips. "and it's okay."

"there's nothing we can do." he replies. "you can't force yourself to love someone else."

you give him a broken smile. your finger draws a star on his cheek. "can we get inside?" you ask. "i think we need to talk about it properly and- we both need time."

"i don't want you to pity me." aemond says. "you don't have to do this."

"this is not pitying." you say. "i was going to the wrong direction before but- if you give me some time i can find my way."

even the hope of it makes him lightheaded. you are willing to talk about everything honestly with him, trying to give both of you a chance to be happy. you don't want to lose him, not when he feels so right in your arms. not when he holds you like he's protecting you from everything.

when you stand up to walk into the apartment, aemond holds your hand. you squeeze his fingers.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #house of the dragon #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #hotd #aemond one eye #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond x reader #house targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond imagine

[fuji-sen]

MONSTER UNDER THE BED

a scar x reader oneshot / miniseries ༉‧₊˚༉‧₊˚.

based on the music video: Monster under the bed by Emily Mei.

fandom: wuthering waves (game)

characters: reader, Scar (delinquent and jock-ish?), Rover, mentions of Baizhi.

setting: modern au, characters (most) are in a college setting.

warnings 🖤❤️: stalking, yandere themes, drugging, kidnapping, obsession, lovesick???, scar, off the scene violence, suggestive intimacy or gifts (used underwear), suggested sex behind the scenes.

disclaimer: made when wuthering waves recently got out, so characters may seem ooc in the future. If it does seem ooc, I'll maybe consider rewriting it in the future.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

You stare at the man who towered over you, your body was sprawled on your bed, the sheets in a state of disarray, your room was dark except for the soft moonlight that poured in from your window. Your hair and skin was wet, and you were in nothing but a towel as you had gotten out of the bath.

Fluffy locks of peppermint colored hair framed the man's face very well, his eyes, mismatched just like his hair, stared deep into her eyes with a nearly indescribable emotion.

His hands held your wrists, pulling your arms above your head, his weight nearly holding you down. His lips tugged to a smirk, "I got to say, you put up quite a fight, and a cute one at that but.."

"You're no match for me little lamb."

a year ago...

It was just the start of your second year at college at Jinzhou Academy. Your hands smoothened the creases of your uniform as you stood at the entrance of the main building. Numerous students walked by, some had different colored hair, others had scars or echos for pets or assistances, some were focused on their textbooks and school work.

"(name)!" A voice called you over, and you turned to greet your friend, Rover, who had a mop of black hair and enchanting gold eyes. They made their way towards you, "sorry I kept you waiting!" they apologized.

You shook your head with a smile, "it's alright Rover, what kept you busy?"

"Almost got into trouble with Scar.." The black haired student sighed in annoyance, your brows raised as your interest was piqued by the mere mention of the name, 'Scar.' He was one of the more famous delinquent or troublemaker at Jinzhou. That's all you knew, you were relatively quiet, bordering on introvert, and although you did have friends, you never made it a mission to seek more having been buried by your curriculum.

"I suggest you stay away from him." Rover grimaced, noticing your curious look. You quickly scoff "oh come on, I'm not stupid." you brushed their expressions off.

"Well, well, well" an unfamilliar voice was heard by you two, and you find another student, in a much more incomplete and messy uniform and a rather bloodied state, approach you. Specifically Rover.

The scarred face student wrapped an arm around your friend's shoulder, "how could you snitch on me Rover~! and I just thought we were warming up to each other!" he sighed playfully hurt.

You scanned his appearance, his tie was loose, merely hanging on his neck, the top buttons of his shirt wasn't buttoned, and instead of the blazer or vest, he opted for a striking red jacket/coat, His hair was messy yet looked so fluffy, with the colors of red and white. His eyes were mismatched, perhaps heterochromia? he had red and grey hair, complimenting and matching his hair.

"Get off me Scar!" Rover's words fell on deaf ears as Scar laughed. "Oh come on, you're just rubbing more salt on my wounds" Scar said, a hand on his chest "and after I made the offer for you to join us!"

"I don't want to join!"

You weren't paying attention, continuing to scan the male, he had gold earrings and black gloves, he also had a black bag around his chest, and you could see the numerous scars around his arms perhaps from hard labor or countless fights.

On his face was a large scar, but it seemed to only enhance his beauty, his hands were stained with almost dried up blood, some of it was smeared on his face.

Your brows furrowed, 'what is this feeling..?' you wondered, as you placed a hand on your chest, looking conflicted. Your cheeks were starting to get flushed and your heart was beating rapidly.

"Are you okay (name)?" Rover shrugged off Scar as they made their way to you, worried clear in their eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine." You reassured him as you still continued to look at Scar, who finally turned his attention towards you.

The smile on his face had widened, "and who's this little lamb?" Scar asked and feeling threatened, Rover put their arm in front of you, as if guarding you from the slowly approaching student.

Scar easily slapped Rover's hand away, he leaned towards you, enough for you to smell ashes and smoke. "your name?" he asked, his smile seemed to mellow into a more charismatic one, less of the manic one like before. It seemed more like a mask.

You gave him your name despite Rover's objections.

And seeing as how hopeless it was to stay, Rover took you away, you'd glance back as you walk, and your eyes would meet mismatched ones.

"It's a shame our short date had to come to an end." He pouted as you got farther and farther.

Whether or not he was serious, you didn't care to know. You find yourself focusing on your own feelings, researching at google, you find that the answer was that you simply fell for the scarred student.

You couldn't tell Rover however or seek guidance, they didn't seem to like scar and you didn't trust your other friends.

You could remember how you got to that point in the future.

It started with the little things.

It was your and a few of your classmates' designated cleaning day, but you find yourself alone in the classroom, your cleaning mates decided to play hooky yet again. You frowned but shook it off, there was nothing that could be done. You begun to push the chairs in the desk and erasing the blackboard. But the eraser was filled with chalk so you opened the windows and began hitting the eraser so the dust would fly off.

And then your eyes seemed to catch a peppermint haired boy, and you couldn't stop staring as he played soccer, he skillfully dribbled the ball pass his opponents and kicked it, scoring a point for his team.

leaning forward and eyes squinted to try and get a better look at him as he raised his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and then-

A gasp escaped your lips, jumping away from the window, as if sensing your stare, he turned to look at your direction, you started to sweat, some part of you hoped that he wasn't looking at or for you, but there was another part of you, a small and tempting voice, that spoke, making you think he was looking at you intentionally, like he knew you were there.

And so you continued on with your cleaning.

Your everyday routine started to change, adapt as you continued to increasingly seek out Scar. Not in a social or chatting way, but in a stalker type of seeking out.

Rover and your other friends could sense your change, but was unable to point out what changed specifically, and you learned to hide it.

The gallery of your phone was slowly filled with candid shots of the apple in your eyes. That one previously empty space in your cabinet was starting to get filled by trinkets and printed out photographs and sticky notes of your 'senpai', your love.

Trinkets such as used bottles or pens or handkerchief you stole from him while he wasn't in his classroom. Sticky notes that filled with compliments and notes about him.

Scar note #1: he doesn't like bitter food or overly sweet and fatty foods.

Scar note #5: he's a member of the sports club while also being in a gang or group named Fractsidus.

Scar note #7: he's having difficulties with science but excels in PE.

You got more bolder as you become more skilled in stalking him, you'd start to leave gifts or anonymous notes inside the drawer of his desk or bag whenever you could. Your gifts vary depending on your mood,

sometimes it was meticulously written notes for his science class, one you had to work hard to learn yourself and even have to ask Baizhi for help, other days you'd leave snacks or bottled drinks for him, food that you knew he liked.

once you were bold, and perhaps becoming more sick? perverted? horny? in love, you sent a pair of your underwear. used ones even, with a particular scent and a white patch.

And yet, your gifts garnered no outward reaction from Scar, at least, from what you could tell.

Even helping him clean or patch up his wounds, or directly communicating or interacting with him face to face, although he regarded you with playfulness or amusement, to you it didn't seem like he was interested in you at all.

But it did not deter you, it motivated you even, like a moth to a flame or perhaps Icarus and the sun. You knew he was dangerous or just bad for you, but it didn't stop you, you wanted him, and you were willing to do whatever it takes to have him.

The notes on your closet became more erratic and less cutesy, the handwriting deepened, almost ripping the paper.

My love <3

So handsome 𖹭

I will have him.

MINE.

You find yourself investigating, procuring questionable materials like a stun gun and thick long rope. You begun to fall into a rabbit hole, and you began to slip in terms of cautiousness, but perhaps that will be for another oneshot~

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

And then you did it, you finally snapped as you heard that someone planned to confess to Scar. You grabbed a small bottle that had grinding up sleeping pills and headed to school. You finally decided you were going to get what you so desperately wanted.

. . .

You knew Scar's schedule well, and so you knew the perfect time to strike. Scar usually stayed at School very late at night, seemingly doing something on his laptop in the library. And so while he was away having went to the bathroom, you grabbed his bottle from the desk, opening it to hear a fresh pop and then you sedated it.

You left as quickly and as quietly as you came, hiding behind the numerous shelves of the library, you managed to peek through an opening, watching him return, behind his back you could see him reach for the bottle and.. he drank it.

And when he soon fell asleep, you took him away to your apartment. You closed his laptop quickly, putting it in his bag which you also brought to your apartment with you.

After maneuvering around the cameras and stuffing him unceremoniously in a guitar case which he surprisingly fitted in?? Scar was on your bed, and you were slightly out of breath, your hand reached to brush his locks away from his face "I'm sorry I had to put you in a guitar case" you softly apologized, "ah~" you leaned towards his face "you are so beautiful" your fingers would graze his scar, and then he stirred.

With wide eyes you quickly tied him up and tape his mouth, you began to stretch your arms, and mentally you decided to go take a bath.

As you get a towel and headed to the bathroom you closed the lights of the room and went out, quietly closing the door.

In the bathroom, you quickly stripped off all your clothes and after filling the bathtub with water, you dipped your toes and then entered the bathtub. You sighed in relief, praising yourself on a rather productive day.

Once you were done you got out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around yourself, cursing as you remember you forgot to bring a change of clothes. And you walked back to your room, ignoring the wet puddle you tracked in the hallway.

Entering your bedroom you find that something was off but seeing him sleeping soundly on your bed you relaxed, you headed to your cabinet, maneuvering in your dark room to not bother your sleeping love.

As you were about to open your cabinet someone pulled you, and you find yourself in the present predicament.

back to the present

"You're no match for me little lamb."

You stared at him, a bit pale, cheeks flush at the intimate position you were in, your mouth was open but you were unable to express any words.

"Got nothing to say huh?" he laughed in amusement as his grip on your wrists loosened. "Did you think I was that careless to get kidnapped by you?" He questioned and you looked at him as the gears in your head started to turn.. "you let me?"

"Of course, you were such a devoted little lamb, I just had to reward you." He cooed, his other hand cupping your face and you purred, leaning into his warm touch.

"I see" you said softly and you find yourself relaxing, if he willingly let himself get kidnapped by you, then there was some mutual feelings or respect,, right?

Scar hummed, taking his hand away from your cheek causing you to pout, "now how should I reward you next? you did a lot for me after all, such a good little lamb." he said, his hand made its way to your neck, his fingers trailing down, leaving fire in its trail as your body began to feel hot.

You squirmed under him as he reached your collarbone, it taunted you, almost daring it to go further down and perhaps under your towel.

"What do you want?" he asked, there was something burning in his eyes, a look you were familiar with.

"You."

He laughed but didn't seem opposed or disgusted, if anything he seemed pleased, "Good, but if you want me, you have to give yourself to me in return." he told you.

"You already have me."

His eyes crinkled in some sort of twisted joy, and then it confirmed it. The look in his eyes was one of twisted love and obsession, one that mirrored your own, if not overpowering it.

That night was when you officially tied the knot of this twisted love.

He was yours, finally.

And finally (officially) you were his.

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

Sorry for the low quality gif at the top, I may or may not make a part 2 and 3, depending whether you guys like it or not. Ehe~

#fuji-sen #fujisen #fuji sen #wuthering waves fic #wuwa #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves sagau #reader insert #wuwa rover #wuwa scar #wuthering waves scar x reader #wuthering waves rover #wuthering waves modern au #wuwa modern au #wuwa x reader #wuwa fic #wuwa fanfiction #wuwa oneshot #wuthering waves oneshot #wuthering waves fanfic #wuthering waves drabbles #wuthering waves x you #wuthering waves x player #yandere scar #yandere reader #yandere scar x yandere reader #yandere x yandere #yandere x you #scar x yandere reader

[thefallennightmare]

Can you do a headcannon where noah and reader are just friends but they both have feelings for each other and they don't know how to tell each other and there really bad sexuall tension between the two of them???

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka

"Son of a bitch," you muttered while trying to hang up a shirt on the tallest point of the merch wall.

Noah and Steven were helping you set up the merch table before the show tonight and Noah couldn't help but watch you with a gleam in his eye.

"Need help, Y/N?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"I've got it, thanks," you said, still struggling.

Noah shrugged. "Fine by me. I've got a perfect view from down here."

With your position on the ladder, both of the guys did have the perfect view of your ass in your tight jeans so you gave a little extra wiggle of your ass.

"Too bad you can't touch it," you teased after finally getting the shirt hung up.

Back safely on the floor, you patted Noah's chest as Steven watched the two of you.

It had been like this for months, ever since you joined the Bad Omens team as their merch girl.

You and Noah had feelings for each other, everyone could see it.

But neither of you would act on it because you wanted to remain professional.

Plus the flirting was fun.

Later that night, after the show, Noah was there again helping you tear down the booth.

"Do you know how many times I got hit on tonight?" You asked.

Noah shrugged while folding up the shirts.

"Every single guy had some comment about how my ass looks or how I'm too hot to be a merch girl. Some guy even asked for my number in front of his girlfriend," you shook your head in disbelief.

"I don't know why they even think they have a chance," Noah snorted before taking a step toward you.

Your ass it the table behind you and you gazed up at him. "Yeah, you think so?"

Noah licked his lips, boxing you in against the table with both of his arms on either side of you.

"I know so, angel."

Your stomach flipped at his nick name for you.

"Why? Because you think you have a chance with me?" You shot back with a teasing smirk.

He breathed in your scent, burring his face in the crook of your neck. "Admit it, you want me."

You let out a breathy moan when you felt his warmth breath on your neck and your fingers played with the ends of his hair.

"Not even in my dreams," you playfully pushed him away with a wink.

You spent the rest of the time packing up the merch table with Noah, talking and joking around with each other. But never admitting your feelings for each other.

Deep down, you both were afraid of ruining your friendship.

But off to the side, Jolly and Matt watched the two of you and shared a knowing look.

Matt pinched his eyes shut when he noticed Noah watching your ass when you bent down to pick something up. "They're the only two who can't feel the sexual tension between them."

Jolly laughed in agreement. "Maybe we should set them up to share a room at the hotel tonight. Finally, get them past this phase of just pretending."

Matt's face broke out in a wide grin and he pulled out his phone.

"Matt, I was joking," Jolly said while following Matt, hoping to stop whatever wicked plan he had in mind.

#tina talks #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens headcannons #noah sebastian headcannons #thefallennightmare

[uzurakis]

HERE TO SEND YOU BLUELOCK HEAD CANNONS! >:D

Can you do headcannons of the guys and how they would be like if they were teaching us how to play soccer? Hope this is interesting for you ^^, if you're interested to make them thanks in advance!

TEACHING YOU SOCCER?!

featuring: michael kaiser. itoshi rin. oliver aiku. isagi yoichi. bachira meguru.

n. yees darling, i was invested to write this (it's a challenging one because i don't really play soccer myself). hope i nailed it though, thank you to u too <3

MICHAEL KAISER. "nice shot!" kaiser exclaimed, clapping you on the back. "but don't get too cocky, mein liebling."

"learned from the best, i guess," you teased, nodding toward kaiser. "after all, my boyfriend's the world's number one striker, hmm?"

kaiser's eyes widened in mock surprise, a beam spreading across his face. "well, when you put it that way," he said, puffing out his chest with pride and sliding back his golden locks. "i suppose i am pretty amazing."

"ah, but if i'm the world's number one striker," he continued, trying to tease you with words, "then that must mean you have to kneel before me, right?"

you lifted an eyebrow, unable to stop snickering at his exaggerated claim. "huh, is that so?" playing along with his joke. "i guess i'll have to remember to bow down to the soccer king himself."

the guy grinned, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "that's more like it," now his voice filled with mock superiority, typical kaiser. "but don't worry, i'll be a generous king."

ITOSHI RIN. "fine, i'll try my best, but just so you know, i'm not really good at teaching," rin confessed, feeling apologetic because he’s not used to teaching others. and now, his girlfriend wants to learn how to play soccer.

rin took a deep breath, trying to muster up some confidence as he began to explain the basics of dribbling. "uh, alright, first, dribbling. just try to keep the ball close to your feet for now," he instructed, a bit hesitant.

"oi, dont look at me, look at the ball," he reminded you. "sorry," you chuckled, truly didn't realize you weren't paying attention. come on, just look at him. "if i’m being honest, you look really hot like this," you teased, but, it’s true though!

rin's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, but he quickly regained his composure. "focus," he replied. though there was a hint of annoyance, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at rin's face as he continued to give you instructions, his cheeks flushed slightly from your earlier comment.

suddenly, rin's voice broke through your reverie, snapping you back to reality. "i said focus!"

OLIVER AIKU. "keep your eye on the ball and follow through with your kick," aiku instructed while you attempted to pass the ball to him.

even when you struggled or made mistakes, aiku remained patient and supportive, offering gentle guidance to help you improve. "try to angle your foot a bit more next time," he suggested, as you missed the mark with your pass. "you're doing great, sweetie. just keep practicing."

by the end of the session, you were exhausted but thankful for aiku's patience and support. he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, a proud smile on his lips.

"you're making progress, sweetie," he soothed, genuine and affectionate. "with a little more practice, you'll beat me out here."

BACHIRA MEGURU. "okaaay, let's start with some dribbling drills," he said, bachira was overjoyed since this meant he had another friend to play soccer with. "try to keep the ball under control as you move around me, kaay?"

you nodded, determined to give it your best shot. as you began to dribble the ball, you stumbled a bit, but bachira was quick to offer a push. "nice job, baby! you're getting the hang of it," he cheered, clapping his hands in support.

with each effort, you gained confidence and dribbled past bachira with greater ease. bachira congratulated you on your small wins every time you successfully escaped him. "woah, that was awesome! baby, i’m so happy!" he exclaimed, giving you a high-five.

"great effort, babes! keep it up, and you'll get it," he encouraged, his words filling you with determination. “lets keep playing together!”

ISAGI YOICHI. "hey, it's okay," isagi said gently, stepping closer to you. "here, let me show you."

he moved behind you and gently guided your legs into the correct position, his touch firm yet gentle. "see? keep your body low and your touches light," he explained, moving your legs in rhythm with the ball. "you've got this, angel.”

with isagi's guidance, you began to feel more confident, dribbling the ball with increasing control. whenever you made a mistake, your boyfriend always offered gentle correction and encouragement.

"nice try, but try to keep the ball closer to your feet," he would say, his tone encouraging. "like this," demonstrating the correct form before guiding your legs to mimic his movements.

@uzurakis

#.writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk scenarios #bllk x you #bllk rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk kaiser #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock kaiser #oliver aiku #blue lock oliver #bllk oliver #oliver aiku x reader #bachira meguru #bllk bachira #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock isagi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock michael kaiser

[shysuccubusstuff]

yandere! diluc pt. 1

Content: dubcon/noncon, stalker behaviour, yandere, syringe, manhandling, kidnap, foul language.

Note: Yeah I know I have a pt. 2 left but i'm so so dry bc of exams and stress so I just wanted to post stuff I like without (trying) to think too much, as always, non-proof reader.

Credits to anitelenia for the lovely divider.

It had been a few days since you started to realize it.

You mostly noticed it when you were alone, walking quietly to your house after your night shift. You had just left the flower shop, trying to walk as fast as possible, just thinking about your warm and soft bed. You were far too deep in your fantasies when you finally stumbled upon someone. Your forehead bumped against something stiff, you could say that it was even hard. Just as you were about to apologize a deep voice talked:

"I'm sorry... I really wasn't looking, are you ok?" Deep blazing eyes encountered with yours, his eyes shining as wild flames despite the cold light of the moon. His hair was swaying, making his face look even more charming, how come you had never seen someone as beautiful as him around? You were dazzed for a moment, your lips almost forming a small circle, luckily, you were fast enough to realize it, finally being able to snap out of it.

"Oh, no, it's my fault, it's kinda dark today so yeah... I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, I'm sorry..." As soon as you babbled your poor excuses, the man laughted softly, his eyes forming small crescent moons.

"Diluc, just call me by my name." You nodded, a bit stranged cause, who would simply give their name to some stranger found in the middle of the night?

"Oh, nice to meet you sir Diluc, I gotta go, see you around!" You left without losing more time, after all, your dear bed was waiting all alone for you. If only you had pay a bit more attention to whatever that man was saying before leaving...

"I'm sure we will meet much more often from now on, dear." Without saying nothing else, Diluc left, walking back to the wineyard and starting to plan how would he be able to make you let down your walls.

A few months had passed, and just as he had foresaw, both of you had suddenly became the soon-to-be couple in Mondstadt. Everytime people saw you around, his eyes started to share furtive glances, their hands making small gestures in a comedic way. Even despite Diluc acted as if he was unaware, he knew it. After all, those rumors had been planned by him. He helped you with even small stuff, always getting up and bringing you your drink, paying when he invited you to have lunch or diner, always as "friends" of course, definitely not because he was already thinking about the ring to ask you to marry him... He also waited for you after work, always bringing you small bouquetes of flowers that he had "found" around while he was doing small quests (he was actually buying them, then making the bouquet with your favourite flowers).

He had already written down all your favourite places, foods, flowers, colours, the type of clothes that you liked, your most hated food, your fears, the name of your first pet... the list could go on for hours. Cause if he didn't know all that information, could he even call himself your boyfriend?

He also had a "small" compilation of sneak pics he had taken of you, the photos were laying around his room, some were hanged in frames, others were hidden in boxes, the rest were used for his shrine in progress.

Of course, when he finally confessed his feelings, he was 100% sure you would fall in love with him, he had done everything you had told him you liked in a man! So when your face changed, your eyes suddenly losing that loving spark, his world almost crashed completely. You tried to explain it to him, it was not the first time a man who you had considered a friend had confessed to you, so you were a bit dissappointed... did that mean that you had approached her with that intention since the beginning? You didn't know what to think, so you asked him for some time, just enough for you to think deep about it. Before you knew it, his hand was already way too close to your neck, a small zap being sent all through your body and causing you to fall against his arms.

When you finally woke up, you were in his room, the fire was crackling, almost making it feel way too... cozy, almost as if you were at "home". What happened? Just as you were about to move from the bed, you noticed something. There was a chain tied to your ankle, tying you to the bed, your clothes had been changed to a soft nightgown, somehow perfectly fitting your body, what the hell had happened?

You were about to scream, when the door opened, his crimson hair swaying just like the first night you had met. He was carrying a small tray, some grapes and other fruits were on top of it. As soon as he noticed you were awake, his lips curved up, his eyes shining with pure devotion.

"Darling! I'm sorry, it seems the thing I created had a little misscalculation..." Diluc apologized, leaving the tray in his desk.

"Are you ok? Do you feel any type of pain? It would kill me to know that I have hurt you..." His hands moved towards you, although as soon as he saw you flintch his hands stopped, his face looking as hurt as if he was the one that had been chained. He suddenly got up from the bed, once again heading towards his desk and taking something from one of the drawers. He got close to you, and despite your failed attempts of squirming away from his touch, it was all in vain as soon as you felt a pulsing pain, almost as if you had been pricked with a needle. The blood that was supposed to keep you on edge was suddenly towards your lower half. What was happening?

As soon as he had used that strange needle, your whole body had went soft, almost limp. did he inject something inside of you? Before you were able to complain anything about it, your brain felt as if it had turned into mush, your brain feeling too fuzzy to think.

"What... what was that?" Diluc eyes' glistened, looking a bit too proud of his work.

"Just some potion to help ease your mind, you looked too... stressed before, but now you look just like a pretty little doll, darling. Did you like the nightgown I bought? I knew it would suit you, but I didn't think it would make you look even prettier!" His hands went through your soft hair, his hands feeling a bit too... hot, maybe it was actually your body the one that was melting?

"Diluc, you need to let me go... I... We can talk about all of this... I promise I won't say it to the knights of Favonius..." You tried to hard to form a cohesive sentence, but Diluc's face switched, his calm face turning into a grin.

"Oh sweet heart, you are almost as naive as beautiful. Do you truly think that those... pesky little knights can harm me in anyway?" Diluc's gaze darkened, his eyes drifting through your whole body. "I'm sorry for having to take this...solution, but you were getting a bit too... close, you know?" Diluc sat down at your side, his hand moving your head a little, just enough for your head to rest on his shoulder. "Just being close to you makes me feel at peace, you know?" His body shifted a little, his calloused hand taking your hair out of your face. "I finally made up my mind after seeing you two that afternoon... that damned liar keeps trying to take what's mine." His hands moved, his fingertips drifted through your chest, pinching a bit your nipples, just enough to let a moan leave your mouth.

"That drug is still active, I guess..." He pushed you just a little, your body falling to the bed without much resistance. His frame on top of you, his soft hair sending shivers down your spine. His face lowered, his soft lips leaving kisses all through your neck, letting you whimper as much as you wanted. His hands were moving around, slowly touching your clothed cunt, treating you as if you were a delicate porcelain doll. "I can even see your pretty pussy, are you that excited to be touched?" You tried to complain, of course that was not the case! That damned syringe had done something to you, of course you were only able to make some complain noises.

"Uhm... to be honest that was just a muscle relaxant, it was just in case you tried to play some little tricks on me, I'm sorry for doubting you, honey. But I swear I will never do anything like it again, I just got a bit anxious." His hands got away from your lower half, going back up and starting to caress your face, kissing your pretty lips and making them all shiny.

"We can consume our love any other day, I've prepared plenty of stuff for us to do, sweet heart." Before you were able to complain, your eyes started to close, body too tired to even ask when would you be free.

#diluc x you #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #smut #fanfiction #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #diluc smut #diluc fanfic #yandere male #yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x darling

[mustainegf]

Fluff w/ James where the reader is having a sleep over at the metallimansion and he asks the reader to braid his hair and in return they try to teach him how to do it too but he's really bad and he feels bad that he knotted up the reader's hair so they cuddle and the reader just reassures him that it's okay

I’m gonna kiss him EVERYWHERE DUDE

I had always liked the laid-back, almost chaotic vibe of James' house. It was a rambling, old-fashioned place filled with mismatched furniture and band posters on the walls, reflecting the eclectic personalities of its residents, James and his bandmates.

Tonight, I was staying over for the first time.

James and I were cuddled up on the worn-out sofa in the living room.

His bandmates had retreated to their rooms or were out for the night, leaving us in a rare moment of solitude.

His head was resting on my lap, his long, unruly hair sprawled out like a dark, tangled sea.

I ran my fingers through it absentmindedly, feeling the soft strands glide through my fingers.

"Hey, I was actually curious about something," James said, his voice slightly muffled by my sweater.

“What's up?" I replied, looking down at him with a smile.

He hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "Would you braid my hair?"

I blinked, surprised by the unexpected request. "I'd love to!" I said, my smile widening. "Why didn't you ask earlier?"

“I don't know," he admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "I thought it might be weird."

I chuckled softly. "Not weird at all, James. Come on, sit up."

He shifted, sitting cross-legged in front of me. His hair, long and thick, was perfect for braiding.

I separated it into sections and began weaving them together.

The room was quiet except for the distant hum of a bassline coming from one of the bedrooms.

As I worked, I could feel the tension melting from his shoulders, his eyes half-closed in relaxation.

“You know," he said after a while, "I've always wondered how you do this. It looks so complicated."

“It's not that hard once you get the hang of it," I replied, tying off the end of the braid with a small elastic band I found on my wrist. "I could teach you if you want."

He laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "Yeah, right. I'd probably make a mess of it."

"I can teach you," I insisted, feeling a bit playful. "Come on, give it a try."

I turned around, gathering my own hair into a loose ponytail and then splitting it into three sections. James looked at the strands with trepidation, his fingers hovering uncertainly.

"Okay, so you take the right section and cross it over the middle," I instructed. "Then you take the left section and cross it over the new middle section. It's like a pattern—right over middle, left over middle."

He nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he tried to follow my instructions.

His hands were clumsy at first, the strands slipping from his fingers. I could feel the tension in his movements, the gentle tugging as he struggled to keep the sections separate.

“You're doing good, Jamie," I encouraged with a giggle, even though I could feel the knots forming in my hair.

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. "I don't know how you do this so easily," he said, his frustration evident.

"It's just practice," I said, giggling slightly as another knot tightened. "You're doing fine."

Finally, he stopped, letting out a deep sigh. "Shit, baby… I think I just made a huge mess."

I reached up, feeling the tangled sections of hair and couldn't help but laugh. "Well, it's definitely... unique."

James looked genuinely remorseful. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

“Hey, it's okay," I interrupted, pulling him close. "It's just hair. We can fix it."

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his forehead against mine. "You're way too nice to me."

"That's because you're worth it," I said softly, running my fingers over his smooth braid. "And besides, now we have an excuse to cuddle."

We lay back down on the sofa, his head on my chest this time.

The warmth of his body against mine was comforting, the rise and fall of his breathing soothing. I stroked my hair, gently working out the tangles he'd accidentally created.

"I'm really sorry about the knots," he murmured, his voice drowsy.

"It's okay, you don’t have to apologize, James," I reassured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He smiled against my skin, his arms tightening around me. "I love you," he whispered, the words making my heart skip a beat.

"I love you too," I replied, feeling a warmth grip my chest.

We lay there in comfortable silence, everything felt perfect. Just the two of us, tangled hair and all, wrapped up in each other.

#reqs open #metallica #request #fanfic #metallica x reader #james hetfield #james hetfield headcannons #james hetfield x you #james hetfield x oc #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield imagines #james hetfield fic #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica fluff #metallica headcanons #metallica fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #mustainegf

[takikojou]

J2 Sunday panel - PurCon

Question 8

Fan: What kind of characters were you when you were school kids like more the shy guys, sporty guys, nerds… Jared: At which age? Fan: I don't know. Like you're a teenager age.  Jared: So high school? In high school I was a drama nerd and a math nerd. I was kind of shy, I wasn't popular by any means. But I had a small group of… It's very much similar to how I am today but I have a small group of friends who I share everything with and they get along famously. But I wasn't popular. I quit sports when I was a freshman in high school when I was 14 to go be in the theater. Thank God cuz I would have never made it as a professional athlete. I loved school and I really did. I loved learning. I still do. And I like theater. I like my friends. I have close friends. But not a whole bunch of friends, but a few really really close friends.

Jensen: Yeah, I was more in the athlete crowd largely because that's where all of my friends that I grew up with were they all played sports. So in high school in Texas you kind of have to pick a sport when you get that size by high school. When you're younger, you could play all sports, which I did, you know, with soccer and played baseball, played basketball and football and all that stuff, but when you get to that level, you kind of have to pick a lane. And so I chose baseball because that's where most of my friends were. And so I played baseball and I was focused on that and I wasn't the best guy on the team but I was good. I was good enough. And then there was drama. There was, there was theater. That was happening. Kind of on the side and I was good at that but I didn't focus on it because that's not what my friends were. So I was, I'd rather be in and out of the baseball field hanging out with my buddies and, you know.  than in the theater. And then finally, I had a really amazing theater teacher who got me into like, doing the plays and doing the productions that they did. And I remember the first time that, like, my whole team came to see the play that I was in. Well, there was a musical, they'd never heard me sing before and I had the whole team like in the first two rows. And when you're doing a play, like the lights are, the spotlights are so bright in your face. You can't really see the audience, but you can kind of see the first row. And I come out there and I'm like doing this number this song. And I just kind of looked down at my whole team and they're just like [jaw dropped face] And it was then I knew I was like, well, it’s all about to end now. I've been too deep. 

Jared: Thank god. Jensen: Yeah, so, that's kind of what I was doing in high school as a kid. Fan: All right. Thank you, Both: Thank you.

#jared padalecki #jensen ackles #j2 #purcon 8 #sunday panel

[werecreature-addicted]

Omg with the whole monster fetish thing I had this kinda angsty scenario where like (form a 3rd pov)

Let's say there's a couple idk like werewolf and girl (or guy) and like one day there hanging out with the werewolves buddies and there joking around and a comment gets out that the werewolf only got together because they had a kink for humans and the partner overheard and are like crushed like "babe wym you only got with me for sex??" Something like that and it be a sad break up or fight

Idk I like thinking of a modern day situation with this what u think?

(I'm still kinda new here so I'm sorry if u answered something similar)

i think it entirely depends on how believable that claim is. maybe they haven't even had sex yet, maybe they have really deep conversations and click really well. in that case they probably wouldn't believe it and take it as just teasing like obviously it isn't just a fetish they have a real deep relationship.

but i mean...if it rings true. if it feels more like a confirmation than anything else, then yeah it's a problem there are plenty of werewolves in the sea they can find better :(

#asks

[howlinchickhowl]

Ristretto - mini update

Hey! So, uh. I've been working on the next chapter of Ristretto for a good long while now. I'm finding it challenging because it's a lot of spice and that's one of the things I find hardest to write well. The next chapter, May, the lusty month of may, is planned as basically a five + 1 of fucking, and I have completed one section! So I have decided what I am doing for this chapter is mini updates by section here on tumblr, and then whenever I have all the sections complete I will update on ao3. In all honesty I just feel like I need the boost of actually posting something right now.

If you remember this fic and want to read the updates separately as they come, great! If you would rather wait and read them all in one go as one whole chapter, also great!

If you have no idea what Ristretto is, it's my coffeeshop AU I have been writing forever and a day and you can read from the beginning here.

And now without further ado!

Chapter 9(a) - rated E

May

By the time Ian closes the store, Mickey has taken to the break room for a nap, and Ian completes all of his nightly cleaning duties to the sounds of him snoring deep and rhythmic. When he’s done Ian shakes him awake and is treated to a full ten minutes of Mickey yawning and squinting like a sleepy baby while they gather their shit and lock up. They walk to the L and it seems to dawn on Mickey just when they’re getting on the train that he doesn’t actually know what Ian has planned, or where they’re going.

He gripes when Ian refuses to tell him, makes a few guesses but doesn’t get anywhere close. When they get to their stop he looks confused, wary, like maybe Ian’s playing some sort of trick on him. But he follows all the same. 

They get off at 47th and cut back across the 90 towards the maze of streets they both sort of call home. Ian leads them through Fuller Park, past the train depot, and the little league field.

“I peed on first base here once.” Mickey tells him, with a childish sort of pride, hooking his fingers into the chain-link fence and stopping to stare out at the spot in question.

“Why?” Ian stops beside him, watching his face as he looks, remembers. Mickey shrugs, like he doesn’t know why, but there is a faraway look in his eyes that suggests that this is not really the case.

“Bet you were a little terror.” Ian jokes, bumping Mickey’s shoulder with his own.

“I was a Milkovich.” Mickey smiles, licks his teeth, kind of feral, and pushes off from the fence. “We got far to go?” He asks, and Ian shakes his head no, pushing off as well and steering them across the little patch of green adjacent to the field so they can hang a right onto Normal.

A couple of blocks and a couple of turns later and they’re there. A road of empty homes, a tiny ghost town in the middle of the night. It’s eerie, actually, Ian thinks as they walk. They reach their destination, two doors down from Lip’s new place, a little square box of a home with faded gray walls, an overgrown front yard, and, crucially, a shitty back door with a broken lock.

Ian leads them through the little wilderness of the yard around to the back, jiggles the handle a little in the way that he has figured out gives him the quickest access, and ushers Mickey inside.

The electricity is out but Ian is prepared, he reaches over to the counter and flips on the camping lantern he had set there for this exact purpose. It’s not bright but it gives off just enough light for Mickey to see the selection of snacks Ian has set out next to the sink, the array of candles he has prepared on most of the other surfaces, ready to light, and through the open door into the next room where he has set up a little nest for them.

Mickey’s back is to him and he hasn’t spoken yet, and it’s making Ian kind of nervous. Was this a weird thing to do? Was it too much? Maybe he should have talked to him about it before? The seconds tick by and neither of them speaks and Ian’s heart starts to pound like that time he and Lip had boosted a car and ended up in front of a cop car at a red light, holding their breaths and hoping like hell that the car hadn’t been reported stolen yet.

Sucking in a deep breath he moves past Mickey and starts to light the candles, just to give himself something to do.

“It’s not much, I don’t know, I thought…”

He trails off, holds his lighter to the wick of a dusty teddy bear shaped candle Debbie had been throwing away and chances a glance at Mickey, nervous, but unable to stop himself from trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

Mickey’s eyes roam around the room, taking in the sight as the newly lit candles cast warm flickering shadows over his impassive face. They land at last on Ian’s, reflections of the flames dancing against the black of his pupils.

“It’s private.” Ian shrugs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow, drags his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and nods.

“Private, huh?” He asks, stepping closer so their bodies brush against each other. Ian reaches around past him to light another candle, no noise but their breathing and the soft swish of his sleeve against Mickey’s.

He lights the candle, and the one next to it, placing them gently back in place on the counter, and when he turns his head towards Mickey he is right there. Their faces are inches apart, so close he could count the individual freckles on Mickey’s eyelids, could extend his tongue and lick the tip of his nose.

Their eyes lock onto each other’s and his breath is suddenly coming in shallow little huffs that blow the stray hairs hanging over Mickey’s forehead up.

“Tell me Gallagher,” Mickey’s voice is hushed, a low rumble of a thing that gets Ian’s nerves tingling as Mickey squares up to him, getting his body even closer and laying assured hands on Ian’s belt buckle. “What do we need somewhere private for?”

His eyebrows tick up again, suggestive, knowing, and his fingers find stronger purchase on Ian’s belt, the backs of his first knuckles brushing the sensitive skin of Ian’s stomach while his thumbs trace the outline of the buckle. Ian sucks in a sharp breath, Mickey draws in his own, long and slow and he waits.

Ian moves first, slamming his face into Mickey’s with enough force to push him back into the counter and latching his lips onto Mickey’s with almost desperate fervor, and after that it’s pointless trying to say who is kissing or grabbing or undressing whom.

Tongues and lips and teeth all slide and catch and drag, Ian pulls Mickey’s jacket down his shoulders, Mickey gets Ian’s pants open and shoved down over the swell of his ass. They move as one frenzied unit, pulling and grabbing and pushing and shoving, until Ian’s pants are around his ankles and they are tripping and stumbling and laughing into each other’s mouths trying to stay upright.

Mickey grabs a fistful of Ian’s shirt and yanks it up in an entirely ineffective attempt to get it off him, growling when he is unsuccessful.

“Fuckin’, take your fuckin’ shirt off asshole.’ Mickey yanks again and Ian pulls away just enough to get his shirt over his head, tossing it blindly and praying it doesn’t land on a lit candle and start a fire. He should be more careful, he knows, but he can’t focus on anything but Mickey right now, Mickey who is looking him up and down and licking his lips like Ian is a big juicy steak he’s looking to devour.

“Fuck, yeah.” Mickey breathes, getting both his hands on Ian’s traps and sliding them, firmly, down over his chest until just his fingertips are brushing over Ian’s abs. He rests there, and the muscles in Ian’s stomach jerk under his touch.  

“This is the most of you I’ve seen all at once.” Mickey tells him, breathless, giddy, running his eyes up over Ian’s chest and shoulders and then down to where his hands are resting, plucking gently at the elastic waistband of his underwear, index finger rubbing idly over the little thatch of coarse red hairs that line it.

Ian leans in to drop a kiss on his open mouth, slack and wet and eager against Ian’s own. He moves over to leave kisses against his cheek, his jaw, nosing up behind his ear into his hairline and breathing in the scent of his skin, intoxicating and so intense just there that Ian can hardly bear it.

“You want to see more?” He asks, pushing the flat of his tongue against the skin of Mickey’s neck and dragging, slowly, as Mickey shivers against him.

“Wanna see it all.” Mickey’s voice catches as Ian flicks at his earlobe with the tip of his tongue, and he shoves his whole hands down into Ian’s shorts, palms flattening over his hips and fingers digging into the flesh of his ass in retaliation. The movement pulls them right in close, and Ian’s cock ends up shoved right up along the length of Mickey’s where’s it’s hard in his jeans.

It’s like a whole series of flashbulbs go off in Ian’s brain, one after the other. Flash. Flash. Flash. His whole brain lighting up with the contact, a full-body shudder running through him, forcing his breath right out of his chest in short little vocal puffs that he can’t contain. He shoves his forehead into Mickey’s shoulder and breathes there, letting the soft, musty scent of Mickey’s skin soothe him until he has a better hold of himself. 

Mickey’s fingers twitch, urgent, and it is that impatience helps Ian focus, helps him find it in himself to drag his mouth up Mickey’s neck, take his earlobe between his teeth in a sharp tug and then whisper.

“Take them off then.”

That’s all the permission Mickey needs, he shoves Ian’s shorts down and the two of them are off again, hands and tongues and lips everywhere at once. Ian gets distracted running his hands all over Mickey’s back and shoulders and waist, feeling the warmth of his skin seeping into his palms and getting lost in the sensation so much that he barely notices Mickey huffing and puffing about having to take off his own pants, since Ian isn’t gonna do it for him.

They laugh together when he can’t get enough room to open his fly button. Ian leans his hips back to make some space and gets with the program enough to help Mickey get his jeans and underwear down until there is a matching pool of fabric restricting his ankles as much as Ian’s. And then they laugh again.

“Should probably take our shoes off.” Ian murmurs, pressing kisses to Mickey’s lips, pressing the whole length of his body along the whole length of Mickey’s and trying not to hyperventilate at how good it feels to feel him.

“Later.” Mickey grunts, shoving his hand between them and grabbing hold of Ian, firm in the way he’s come to learn that Ian likes best. He slides his tongue sloppily into Ian’s mouth in time with his thumb rubbing over the head and it’s almost  enough to make Ian’s knees buckle.

“Mickey.” He tries to say, muffled against Mickey’s lips, hindered by his seeking tongue and his clever little hand starting to stroke.

“Mickey!” He succeeds this time, firmly, grabbing whole handfuls of Mickey’s ass and pulling him tight to Ian’s body, trapping his hand between them and halting his movement with a grunt. Mickey’s answering huff is petulant and it’s pure instinct that has Ian pulling him in even harder, letting his fingers pull at Mickey’s ass-cheeks so that they part, exposing him to the open air, letting him feel it until his panting breaths turn vocal and he stops trying to move.

Mickey’s eyes catch on his, they’re dark with want, pupils blown wide enough that Ian can barely make out the blue in them. Up to now their encounters have been marked with both an overwhelming intensity of desire and a level of humor Ian never knew could be a part of sex. Sex has never really been fun in this way, before. Fun in the way where you get your rocks off and it feels really fucking good and someone thinks you’re hot and that feels amazing or you’re super high or out of your head and everything you do is fun. But fun like this, stupid fun where you’re held captive by your pants and your lover won’t let you do anything about it kind of fun, that’s a new thing. That’s a Mickey thing. It’s the best thing Ian’s ever had.

But now it feels like they are teetering on the edge of something else, something new. Not wholly new to Ian, he’s dangled his feet in these waters a couple of times before, and the heat in Mickey’s eyes suggests that it’s not his first dip in this particular pool either, but new for them, together, and just the thought that they might be on the same page, compatible in this as well, it’s a whole new thrill. 

 “I had a plan.” He tells Mickey, low and serious, letting his thumb rub over the swell of one ass cheek, feeling the fuzz of the surprisingly light colored hairs that grow there. “Got a mattress all set up in the next room, comfy pillows, soft sheets.”

“Not a fuckin’ princess Gallagher.” Mickey grumbles, and Ian clenches his fingers harder, pulling his cheeks further apart. He can’t see, but from the sharp grunt that Mickey lets out he can tell the tension is starting to stretch his hole open ever so slightly.

“No.” He says, easing up just a little.  “Just thought you might appreciate getting fucked without getting carpet burn on your ass.”

Mickey’s mouth turns up in a smile that is somehow equal parts flirty, filthy, and sweet, and his tongue flicks out over his lips slow, tantalizing.

“Awful thoughtful of you.” He tilts his head up into the space below Ian’s chin and Ian shivers as the flat of his warm, wet, tongue slides over the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, I’m nice like that.” His focus is split, the sharp spikes of Mickey’s stubble following the path of his tongue like tiny electric shocks against the sensitive skin of his throat, but he manages to loosen his grip and slide the fingers on his right hand all the way into Mickey’s crack and stroke them up and down a couple of times, fingertips catching gently against his rim as they move.

“Hmm.” Mickey sucks in a slow breath, and Ian can feel all the muscles in his ass twitch, uncontrollably. He likes that. “Other ways too.”

“You think I’m nice?” Mickey’s teeth join the party, scraping over the hinge in Ian’s jaw, adding a new sensation to the wet and sharp in a way that makes Ian’s knees threaten to give out. Ian rewards him by allowing the tip of his middle finger to sink in, breeching the tight circle of muscle just enough that it clenches around him. Just enough that he can now officially say he’s been inside Mickey Milkovich.

A soft vocal puff of breath blows out against Ian’s neck, wet with saliva and just a little itchy where Mickey’s been working it over with his lips and tongue and teeth. 

“What’s that?” Ian inclines his head, pushing their temples together. He pushes his finger a little deeper and then pulls it back almost immediately, Mickey’s body moving with him, unconsciously trying to keep him in. Mickey grunts. Ian pushes at his cheek with his nose, lays soft kisses on his cheek, against the corner of his lips. “Say you think I’m nice, Mick.”

He gets at Mickey’s lips, hot and wet, slides his own over them, breathes a hot breath into his mouth, swallows the breath that Mickey gives him back. He lets his finger push back in, as far as it will easily go.

“Mickey.”

Mickey kisses him, one sweaty hand coming up to grip at his shoulder and the other grabbing him at the hip. He kisses him dirty, lips and tongue dragging hot over Ian’s own, slow and wet and it’s so fucking hot Ian makes a sound he’s never heard outside of porn, like a grunt and a moan had a filthy high-pitched baby and it gets Mickey grinning against his mouth until he’s basically kissing teeth.

“Nice guy, huh?” His lips pluck at Ian’s again, nose bashing nose as he draws his head back so their eyes can meet. “That what you think you are?”

“What else?” Ian shrugs, drawing his finger, still resting just inside of Mickey’s ass, in tight little circles, just the tip really, swirling around, feeling his walls, the heat, the jolt of Mickey’s muscles as they pulse at the contact. He could just stay there forever, just rubbing at him, feeling him, but at the same time he’s desperate to get a rhythm going, add more fingers, taste him, get something else inside him, he wants everything all at once and it’s like he’s just feeling too many things, he can’t take it.

He buries his face in Mickey’s neck and clenches his hands, one holding steadfastly to Mickey’s ass-cheek, one spread so that he can keep his finger inside, but still clenching against the sheer strength of what he’s feeling.

It’s a lot, he thinks, as Mickey gasps against his ear, he must be pulling at him pretty hard, dragging him from the inside. He tries to relax, tries to think about releasing his muscles and slowing his breathing, think about things that calm him down. Soft music, going for a run, the sound of Mickey’s voice lately.

“Mick.” He about manages to grind out against the flushed pink skin of Mickey’s shoulder. “What else?”

“What, if you ain’t nice?” Mickey’s voice is soft, kind of high right there against the shell of his ear, soft lips mouthing at his earlobe as small warm hands run up and down his sides in slow, firm strokes. It must be clear to Mickey that Ian is on the brink of falling the fuck to pieces. He manages a juddery kind of nod, face still buried in Mickey’s skin, hands still fighting to tense, and he feels Mickey’s chest rise and fall in a deep breath, feels him relax his body against Ian’s.

The kisses that follow are gentle, soothing, along his hairline, down his forehead, over his cheeks and jaw, and punctuated with that sweet, husky voice, not quite whispering, but not quite talking aloud either, talking him down with each pointed breath.

“Well you’re really fuckin’ hot. So there’s that.” Kiss. “Funny. When you’re not trying to make a dumb pun joke.” Kiss. “Strong.” Kiss. “I like that you’re strong.”

He can feel it working, feel himself settling back into his skin, his heart slowing back to a regular (if aroused) rate. He manages to press a kiss into the ball of Mickey’s shoulder and is rewarded with a questioning “hmm?”

He gulps in a breath and focuses on relaxing his hands, soothing his thumb over Mickey’s almost certainly bruised ass-cheek, retracting his finger in a long, slow, slide that has Mickey’s breaths coming in short sharp vocalisations, almost giggles, like the sensation is more than his body can bear.

He drags his face up to Mickey’s for a kiss, and as he melts into that mouth it’s like he’s fully back inside his body again. He can feel every place where his skin is sticking to Mickey’s, pulling in little painful drags as they move against each other. He is aware once more, of Mickey’s dick, resting, a little twitchily, beside his own, pressed between them both and dribbling into his pubic hair. Ian enjoys how wet he gets, can’t help but reach between them to feel along the sticky length of him and give a couple of short tugs, coating his fingers in pre-come and sucking in the little huffy breaths that Mickey puffs out as he does.

“What else?” He asks, dragging his hand back around and sliding his finger back inside, crooking his knuckle to stretch out the rim a little before diving properly in.

“Fuck.” Mickey breathes against him, and Ian swallows it, his words, his breath, the intoxicating smell of him swirling inside Ian’s mouth and resting against his palate.

“What else?”

“Jesus Christ you uh.” Ian licks at his lips as he is trying to form the thoughts, a little more sensation, wants to see if he can get Mickey to shake out of his skin just the way Ian almost just had. “You kiss good.”

He licks him again, closes his lips over Mickeys in a reward of a kiss, rubbing at his rim with the tip of his ring finger, testing the waters to see if they’re there yet. Mickey’s moan is loud, fills Ian’s mouth with its neediness as he throws his arms around Ian’s shoulders and presses himself as close to Ian’s body as he can get. Second finger it is. On the next draw back, he pushes two in. Mickey’s whole body shudders against him.

“Mickey.” He loves the feel of Mickey’s entire weight hanging off him, pressed against him, clinging to him like he’s a life-raft and Mickey’s adrift at sea. “What else.”

Mickey whines, and it is such a sweet sound. Ian buries his fingers as far as they will go and swallows the noises his lover makes.

“Christ, Ian, I don’t know, if I say you’re nice will you stick your fuckin’ dick in me?”

If he’d thought laughter would break the horny spell he’s under, he would have been wrong. He’s so turned on he’s not quite sure what to do any more. He’s laughing straight into Mickey’s mouth and buzzing with desire and fighting the instinctual thrust of his hips all at the same time, so many sensations warring for attention he hardly knows how he’s still standing up, except that Mickey’s body is supporting his as much as Ian’s own is supporting Mickey’s. And God does he want to stick his dick in Mickey, more than anything he thinks he’s ever wanted. There’s only one thing stopping him.

He pulls his mouth from Mickey’s and unceremoniously drags his fingers out of his ass, grabbing a cheek in both hands and squeezing.

“Not without lube.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, leaning back in, but Ian stops him short with a hard smack and pushes him away.

It’s only when he makes for the little nest he’s set up in the next room that he remembers his pants are still around his ankles and he’s still wearing his boots. It’s Mickey’s turn to laugh as he very narrowly escapes tripping over his own feet.

“Shut up and get your shit off.” Is all Ian says, working on freeing his feet and admiring the lines of Mickey’s body as he hops about pulling his own boots off and shaking his legs out of his pants until at last he’s standing in nothing but his socks, a mile and a half of pale skin lit only by the soft glow of the candles and making Ian’s breath catch in his throat.

He has to kiss him again. His pants have barely hit the floor and he’s got Mickey gripped by the hips and is smashing their lips together even as Mickey’s shit-eating grin gives way to open-mouthed laughter.

He keeps kissing him as he uses his body to move them through to where he has stashed the lube, keeps kissing him as he backs him toward the mattress he has topped with piles of blankets and pillows gathered from every corner of the Gallagher household (and washed on a super high heat to remove any trace of Frank that might have been lingering), keeps kissing him, though not with a whole lot of finesse as he lowers them both down horizontal and reaches blindly around the side of the mattress for his little kit of supplies, and Mickey just keeps kissing him back.

Back when Mickey had first come around the Tamp and Grind, refusing to order his drink the way he wanted and barely looking Ian in the eyes some days, he would never have imagined, in a million years, that Mickey loved kissing as much as he does. But he really fucking does. He’s almost always the first one to lean in, and never the first one to pull away, he leads with his lips, a total kiss slut, and Ian loves it, loves that he is maybe the only person to know it. He kisses him and kisses him and gets hold of the lube and kisses him and vows that he will never deny Mickey a kiss when he wants it. He deserves all the kisses.

Although maybe he needs to take a breath, his thoughts are getting a little loopy.

He gets the lube on his fingers and fumbles around beneath them, sliding two straight back in to Mickey’s hole without much pre-amble and smiles when Mickey gasps beneath him.

“Yeah?” He asks, not really pulling his face back from Mickey’s, their mouths still connected though not quite in a kiss.

“Fuckin’ warn a guy” Mickey murmurs, lipping at Ian’s bottom lip a little, not quite a kiss, not anything really but some contact.

“How’s this for a warning?” He brings his ring finger into play, running it along Mickey’s rim to position it in the sort of ridge formed by his other two fingers and pushing, just a little, before pulling back again.

Mickey sucks in a deep breath, blowing it back out warm over Ian’s mouth as the finger slides in next to the others. There are so many sensations, warm breath on his face, soft hairs against his cheek threatening to tickle, sticky skin pulling against his own wherever they move, and the sucking heat surrounding his fingers, Ian revels in in, how completely physically consumed he is by this man, how absolutely lost he is to anything outside of his body and Mickey’s body right now.

He twists his fingers and pulls out a little before pushing back in, trying to give him a little stretch on every move, he grins at Mickey, thinking about why he needs the stretch, and Mickey’s returning grin is filthy and harsh.

“You gonna fuck me Gallagher?” He grunts as Ian makes his two main fingers into a scissor inside of him.

“Uh-huh.” Another kiss, another thrust, and now Mickey’s hand is worming in between them to grab at Ian’s dick, firm and sure in a way that makes Ian jolt.

“Think you got what it takes?” He starts up a stroke, nice and light, not letting his hand catch where Ian is sticky from pre-come, and Ian gives him a couple of thrusts in time with his fingers and fuck it feels really fucking good.

“Fuckin’ know I do. You’re desperate for it.”

Mickey licks his grinning lips, thumbing at the head of Ian’s dick.

“That right?” He squeezes a little, and Ian jerks.

“Fuckin’ greedy for it, you think you can take it?” He needs a condom, where did he leave them? He knows it was close by. He throws his arm out over their heads, feeling blindly as he sucks on Mickey’s lips. He comes up triumphant, waving it between their faces with a grin which Mickey returns, eyebrow cocking up toward his hairline.

“Only one way to find out man.” Mickey says, and all at once they are moving together, getting the packet open, getting Ian suited up and ready, and then both of their hands are there, covering him together, guiding him together, until he is finally sinking into the sucking heat of Mickey’s body and the both of them stop breathing for a minute as he slides all the way in.

It’s like time stops still. Like the whole world shrinks down to just him and Mickey and the points of contact between them, the heat that surrounds his cock and the light hairs tickling his elbow where it is bracketing Mickey’s arm, the short bursts of air that are passing between them as they kind of gape open-mouthed at each other, adjusting, feeling.

He thinks he could stay there like that forever, just locked inside Mickey for the rest of time, and be perfectly content with his lot in life. Mickey, though, he senses, is about to get restless.

He opens his mouth, no doubt to give Ian some patented Milkovich sass, so Ian takes his moment, right before Mickey speaks, and strikes, pulling out almost all the way in one swift movement, before grinding his way back in, pushing even further when he bottoms out so that Mickey’s hips tilt up off the mattress and a short grunt comes punching out of Mickey’s mouth.

He seems to like that move, so Ian goes with it, adjusting his weight so that he is able to grab hold of a seductively thick thigh in each hand and push upwards, holding Mickey’s weight so he can pull out again and grind back in, using every ounce of muscle control he’s worked so hard for to tilt his hips at just the right angle and push himself forward at just the right pace to get Mickey’s knees to twitch and his thighs to clench around him.

He goes at it like that for as long as he can, sweating and gasping and rolling his hips, rewarded for each thrust with a soft breathy ‘uhn’ from Mickey and the occasional half-hearted bite to his jaw or his ear or, at one point, his nose, though he does wonder if that was just bad aim. He doesn’t know how long he manages, maybe a minute, maybe less, before he starts to get that tight feeling in the base of his spine and his toes start to tingle and clench. His movements grow less smooth, less sure, jerking forcefully instead of gliding with purpose and he hopes he’s done enough to get Mickey there as well because this is apparently going to be a short performance.

‘Mick,’ he manages to gasp, eyes zeroing in for a second on a sweaty lock of hair that’s dangling out of place, ‘Mick, I’m—’, the force of his breaths blows the hair away again and Mickey’s face, flushed and glistening with sweat, comes back into focus.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Mickey says, hushed and dark and right there with him, thank fuck. Glassy eyes lock onto Ian’s for just a second before Mickey’s reaching down between them to get a hold of his own cock and the sensation forces them closed, head tipping back, hips jolting upward with a force that nearly knocks Ian sideways. He pulls back, bringing Mickey with him so that he’s resting back on his knees, Mickey splayed basically in his lap. He does his best to grip Mickey’s hips despite the sweat and his waning co-ordination, juddering through the last thirty seconds of thrusts as Mickey urgently strips his cock, bringing himself to the edge and throwing himself off it seconds after Ian shudders and jolts and grinds to a seizing halt. He empties into the condom with great heaving groans, laughing as Mickey’s face twists up in bemusement at the noises he makes. A whole body shiver runs all the way through him and he leans into it, shaking his shoulders and head like a dog, spraying sweat everywhere and arching his back into a stretch.

It’s only when Mickey grunts and gives him a half-hearted kick against his right side that he realizes all of this movement is probably a bit much for the man he’s still inside of thirty seconds after he’s blown his load.

‘Fuck.’ He breathes, running his hands over Mickey’s hips in a way that he hopes is at least a little soothing. ‘Sorry.’

Mickey’s whole body seems to go limp, legs flopping down, head tipping back onto the mattress as his breathing slows. There is a small bruise starting to come through just beneath his clavicle, a dark blue just beginning to bloom, and Ian is struck with the overwhelming urge to taste it.

He tips forward, softening cock slipping out with the movement and earning another grunt out of Mickey, whose hands are covering his face now but who adjusts his body to the shifting weight of Ian leaning down over him. He brings his arms down around Ian to run light fingers over his back as Ian mouths gently at the darkening mark. They catch their breaths with soft touches and light kisses, Ian can hear the slowing thud of Mickey’s heart beneath his skin and he tries to match his own against it, breathing slow into his chest, contemplating what it might feel like if they were to somehow become one single being.

Mickey’s fingers in his hair tug him back to reality, and his brain suddenly starts whirring in a different direction, one that plants the seed of worry as he goes back over the last half hour, cataloguing everything he could have done different, better.

“Sorry.” He says again, propping his chin up on Mickey’s chest so he can look up at him. “That was—I can do better than that.”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand between them before planting it back in his hair.

“Nah,” He says, twisting a damp curl just starting to form around his middle finger, “you’re a fucking stud Gallagher.”

It’s dumb, and it pulls a groaning laugh out of Ian, but it’s enough to quiet his doubting mind and he buries his face in between Mickey’s pecs as the both of them give in to a few giggles.

“I can do better, though.” He says eventually, “I got a bit overwhelmed but usually I don’t just lose my shit like that.”

Mickey pulls at his hair, forcing him to look back up and meet Mickey’s eyes, cool and sharp, assessing Ian as they look him over.

“Alright,” He says at length, dropping his head back and giving Ian a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder, “well give me a minute to get the feeling back in my legs and you can prove it to me.”

...

part b coming soon??

#fic #my fic #gallavich #ian x mickey #gallavich fic #ristretto #wip #about ristretto #update

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Dazed: Choso Kamo x y/n

Requested: No

TW: None

Word Count: 906

Part 1 | Part 3 TBD

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

You wake up dazed and sore. You look up to see Shoko.

"What happened?" You ask.

" I don't know. You suddenly showed up and here I am. " she answers. " you don’t seem to have any wounds, can you walk?"

You assent and get up. " where's everyone?"

" On their way back to the school. The incident has ended."

"Ended?! I was barely out there." You lament. 

Shoko just shrugs and guides you back to the car. 

At school you hide your shame for being knocked out so easily. You lost your pride and your dignity. You decide to focus on training to avoid a similar incident in the future.

You chose a secluded area in the woods. Big wooden puppets littered the space, your practice dummies. You repeatedly unleash your weapon on the dummies, practicing your aim. Angry and upset you work from sun up to sun down. 

One day while you were alone, you felt like you were being watched. 

"Come out. I’m not in the mood for games." You growl. 

Choso Kamo steps out of the woods into the clearing where you were. You gasp. Anger bubbles to the surface and you launch at him. It's his fault you feel shame and a loss of pride. He dodges masterfully evading your every move. He manages to pin you against a tree. Your bodies crushed together. Your hands in his above your head. Your faces inches from each other. You huff in annoyance. 

"Come to mock me?"

Choso's eyebrows furrow. "I wanted to make sure you're okay." 

You just stare at him. You'd forgotten how handsome he is. He lets go but doesn't move an inch from your body. You share a breath. He looks intently into your eyes hoping to communicate what he's feeling. You start to get nervous and push him off you, he doesn't budge. You can feel the warmth of his body, the chiseled muscles under his clothes. Your face grows hot. 

"Move please." You mumble, embarrassed. 

He clears his throat as he steps away from you, putting distance between your bodies. You start to miss his heat. 

"What's your deal? You stopped me from following orders and now you’re here."

"Like I said, hurting you would hurt me. I wanted to keep you safe. And I’m glad to see you... safe." 

You're slowly catching onto what he's saying now that the adrenaline wasn't clouding your judgment and you blushed. He protected you. He's here for you. He wants you. 

You felt your legs get weak and reprimanded yourself for your reaction. He's the enemy, why was your body reacting so odd. 

"You're the enemy. You have to be disposed of." You say defiantly. 

"I'm no longer with Kenjaku. Yuji is my brother, and I’m here to be with him."

"I thought you came here to see me." You say, cheeky and flirty. 

He blushes and covers his face. He refuses to answer. 

You walk up to him, closing the mere distance between you too. You stare into each other’s eyes. You're looking for answers in his crimson eyes. You see resolve but you don't know if it’s for Yuji or you. 

"If you're going to hang around, at least help me train. I’m clearly not as strong as I'd like to be."

"I can do that." He assented. 

He grabs your hand and guides you to the middle of the clearing. Now you're blushing. 

"You're too tense when you fight." Choso parts your legs with his. 

"Your stance is too low." He places his hands on your shoulders.

"Your gaze is unfocused." He lifts your chin with his pointer and middle finger. 

He stands behind you, gently placing his hands on your back, "now breathe."

You do as he says, as if caught in a trance. Your body heat rising with every touch. 

"Now attack me." He whispers in your ear. 

You breathe deep before twisting your body full force and confidently to take him down. He's faster than you anticipated but you almost land a blow. 

"You're too fast." You whine. 

"Again." He demands. 

He guides your body into the right position. Rough hands claiming your skin, molding it to his will. He steps behind you again, his breath on your neck.

"Attack me." He commands. 

You follow suit. You focus on moving and breathing. You twist far enough to grab his clothes. No hits were landed but triumph was yours. You held onto the front of his robe, close and personal. 

"I did it." You smiled. 

Choso felt warmth in his chest. A feeling reserved for his brothers. He felt like this close of proximity to you will drive him insane. Yet, here he was again, sharing your warmth. Much to his dismay, he would let you hold onto him as long as you want. However, the sun was setting and he had to leave. 

"Good job." He said gruffly, trying to hide his excitement. 

"Now what?"

"Nothing. I have to go."

You let go of his robe. Your hand falling beside you forlorn as if woken up from a dream. 

"Will I see you again?"

"Tomorrow. Here. " he walked up to you, placed a hand on your shoulder. "You did good. I'll teach you more in the days to come." He promised. 

Choso turns and walks away, leaving you dazed and energized. You hated to admit it, but you liked his attention.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #jjk choso #kamo choso #choso x you #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso

[ruexdrty]

Petty Thievery

Pairing: The Ghoul x Reader

Note: Mentions of the game Fallout 4 setting/gameplay because duh I played it too fucking much.

Gloved fingers gripped at the slicky thin bobby pin, twisting and turning gently just in the await of that sweet click. The wind was strong tonight but her overhanging hood saved her eyes from the unforgiving—and probably radioactive—sand. It was ironic that a radaway bag hanged on the inner side of her coat while she donned a gruesome ghoul mask on her face like second skin.

She had found it hanging alone on a wall shack in the corner of an empty costume house when she was seeking cover from the blazing raiders and mutants outside. There were a few of them until she had shot one with her .308 pipe revolver, awaiting a horde of sick grunts and snarls only to be met by silence. That was when she realised that it was no feral, just a harmless mask. Those were probably zombie masks but, well, there was nothing she couldn't fake.

‘Well, I had this idea...’ she narrates, her eyes catching the glimpse of a distant man coming towards her again through the sides of her vision. She wasn't mistaken, that silhouette was distinctively clear in her head. Only one man she knew held himself with grace and sickening danger altogether. The cowboy hat, the overhanging coat... ‘And when I thought I could handle lying about being a ghoul with wastelanders and other ghouls alike, I wasn't fucking counting him.’

Her fingers trembled as yet another bobby pin snapped, spitting curses under her breath that would make a sailor blush. She heard the familiar reload click of a shotgun a few feet away.

“Tell me why I shouldn't just shoot you right now, sweetheart.”

Oh, yeah, that voice. She knew it, was familiar with it. She has had one too many run-ins with him whenever she played the role of a runaway vaultie, and she could recall none of them to be pleasant. She just hoped he won't recognize her voice.

The flickering neon board hung overhead, a few lights hanging off its hinges, it read, ‘Pharmacy’.

“Nothin' wrong with a woman trying to survive,” She grumbled with an intentioned rasp in her voice, deepening it. ‘We practised this,’ she told herself to take deep breaths, ‘Just don't overdo it.’

“Well, darlin',” His southern accent was strong, dripping off each syllable, “Ain't nothin' wrong with a man wanting it all to 'imself, eh?” The barrel of the shotgun dug into the sides of her forehead through her hood. Ofcourse he'd want the whole store. Who wouldn't?

She sucked in a deep, slow breath, quiet and shaky. “That's not nice.” At a loss of words, that was all that she could've come up. She wasn't particularly proud of it, especially when even he couldn't bite back a short laugh.

After a long pause of silence, she huffed, “If you kill me, you can't get it. The lock's pretty tight!”

“Yeah?” He drawled, she peeked through the edge of her hood to catch a glimpse of his uninterested eyes. “And what gives I don't just break the damned glass?”

Again, a silence befell them. “I'm fucked then.” She had stopped fumbling with the lock now, looking at him with distrusting eyes while the wind furled gently against her hood. His fingers repositioned around the trigger.

A guttural growl filled the air as heavy steps shook on the ground they stood on. Their gazes widened at each other. He hit the barrel on her head lightly to accentuate the tension, “Get to it,” he barked.

She returned to pick the lock, the nearing footsteps of the wasteland creature and the edge of the gun digging on her head pushing her hands to shake more. With an irritated groan he knocked the glass with his elbow before opening the lock from the inside. With heavy breathes they rushed inside and pushed the door close.

He turned to her with an exasperated frown. She huffed, a hand to her chest to contain her beating afraid heart. “Don't blame me for having performance anxiety!” He looked at her incredulously like she was crazy.

It was dark, her feet hitting some clutter or the other as she creeped closer to the wall for safety. She stumbled behind the counter and slid down the wall, sitting on the floor as she stared out the glasses in fear. The sudden ticking of radroaches' mantis caught her off-guard and she let out a yelp, fingers curling around the revolver in her holster and shooting the creature before it could close in on her. Silence befell and she collected her breath with a heaving chest. Her legs sprawled in front of her, back hitting the wall in exhaustion but her fingers stayed tightly clutched on her revolver.

The Ghoul clicked his tongue, “You don't sound much like a ghoul.” Was that a joke? A threat? An accusation or just an observation? Whatever it may be, she knew she didn't way to stay around him much longer than necessary.

The fucking Deathclaw outside was an absolute epitome of her bad luck.

Heavy footsteps neared her. It was The Ghoul this time. For some reason, she thought it'd be easier to take down a Deathclaw than this man. “Gun,” he demanded with an outstretched palm in front of her face. She glanced at it once.

“And why should I?”

His foot striked down her wrist, the gun falling out of her grasp to the floor. He stood over her, kicking the gun to the corner and out of reach. His boot planted on either side of her legs. There wasn't much she could to save herself in this situation... or, well, position.

“Smooth skin, soft voice...” He observed, “When did ya' start turning?”

She hasn't done her research. “Seven.” But she figured seven years might hit the sweet spot.

He hummed and leaned downwards, the barrel nudging against her shoulder. ‘Don't panic,’ she met his gaze. He tilted his head down at her, sighing heavily in thought. He laughed short, fingers tightening around the trigger. Gunshots don't kill ghoul, at least not until their brains paint the floor.

"Well, sweetie,” he drawled, his voice deep and ruthless, “Let's see how much of a liar you are, huh?”

Deafening gunshot filled the small store.

#cooper howard #fo4 #fanfiction #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fanfic #fanfic #fallout fic #fallout fandom #gaming #pc games #video games

[echoes-lighthouse]

Hey, since you’re now answering questions from that dark/unconventional ask game, then how about 💭 and 🎧 for your selfship with Stolas? (I’m curious about how you portray him, since he used to be one of my favourite characters in the first season…)

And also, 🏴‍☠️ for any other ship that you might have that is more fluffy~

– villain-in-love

Heck yeah! Thank you! (dark/unconventional selfship asks)

It's funny, I have so many feelings about the pilot Hazbin characters vs. the Season One Hazbin characters, while people who came in for the Amazon show don't have the same disconnect: in the same way, people who were there for Helluva Season 1 have a lot more feelings about the Season 2 character changes than I do, because I watched it all at once.

Anyways, let's get into the Stolas questions!!

💭 What scenario do you return to when you think about this selfship? How does it make you feel?

With Stolas, I think often about the minutes between the scene and the conscious aftercare, where I have to leave him and get the food, get water running in the bathroom, clean up the things that we used.

I think about the unbinding, running fingers over and under his feathers to make sure that he's not hurt (not that he would be, but it's the routine that matters), I think about the seconds when he's just catching his breath, exhausted and still deep in subspace but just on the brink of resurfacing, that glassed-over and delicate contentment. It feels like the beautiful colours on the clouds before the sun rises into view: the best part of a sunrise.

🎧 What song reminds you of your selfship?

My My My! by Troye Sivan is my general Stolas song, but when we're dealing specifically with our selfship..... hmmmmmm, it's gotta be a Depeche Mode.

Let's go with Mercy In You, by Depeche Mode. That's the right vibe.

"You know what I need when my heart bleeds I suffer from greed, a longing to feed On the mercy in you"

🏴‍☠️ Do you have any dark AUs for your more fluffy selfships?

None that I've already fleshed out, but I do have a few that I'd be interested in exploring!

-I think there's space in my Zero Rick ship for an AU with a less functional Rick... whether I'd keep him in the Zero brand or branch out into a more C-137 adjacent universe I'm not sure. -I'd still be open to an AU where my self-insert is a sinner for my VoxVal selfship, which I think would be about 90% more fucked up than my "canon" selfship with them -I currently write the fluffy parts of my Night Vale selfship but rest assured it's actually super fucked up, I just kind of never write about that part of it because I like the fluffy parts also and I want people to like the ship :p

#those fantasy questions always make me zone out for like half an hour #i'm like hang on i have to get deep into this #i always have the edges of my favourite fictional scene to return to with my f/os #but it takes work to get fully into them and then back out again #secrets of the stars #kink mention #subspace mention #suggestive #nonsexual kink #ask games #my selfships

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.

#Fear and Hunger #D'arce Cataliss #Cahara #Ragnvaldr #Enki Ankarian #Unlike Dungeon Meshi - I cannot in good faith recommend this game to a broad audience. #My background with F&H goes as follows: I am hanging out with a friend. He says “hey try this game I've been playing.” I say “Okay!” #I have never heard of this game. I pick the mercenary. I go through 5 min of character history and background. I am mauled to death by dogs #It took me 4 resets to even get in the dungeon. But I finally get there. I am caught by a guard. He cuts off all but one of my limbs #I am forced to crawl around in a blood and corpse pit until the game tells me 'give up idiot'. #I reset. I am mauled by dogs again. I realize this is not for me but I am intrigued enough to go home and watch some playthroughs #And WOW what an interesting game it is! I really do appreciate games that blend their design philosophy with the theme it wants to set #This is a game about fear and hunger. And persevering. And penis (my god is there a lot of penis) #I recommend this to people who like extremely challenging games and can handle the many *content warnings* within this series #If the idea of Bloodborne/eldenring and undertale having a little RPG maker baby sounds appealing to you - give it a shot #It's made by ONE GUY and it's a great horror game. I am just really bad at it. #My friends just enjoy putting me in situations where I scream and yell. We don't talk about the corn mazes. Or the other horror game nights #Apparently I'm funny when I'm Scared! #As people who follow me on twitter might know; I am deep in the pits of this series right now. I will be back with more art.

[boogiewoogieweeb]

it's all fun and games typing up a silly, rickety little au idea in the tags of someone else's post and then suddenly you find yourself expanding on the world-building and plotting out interconnected stories for characters you swore would only make background appearances and your brain is On Fire with the need to write even when you know you can't commit to yet another doomed wip

#the terror #this is 100% about the fucking hartving tech!averse jirv/librarian!hartnell au from yesterday bc IT WON'T LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE #thinking about a ficlet detailing how bridlgar met #peggles is a delivery driver who does the rounds dropping off the library's stationary orders and john's the one in charge of receiving #and they strike up a friendship over terrible stationary puns and eventually start dating when john introduces harry to classic lit #thinking even more about a joplittle sequel where after ned shows up soaking wet the first time and is immediately smitten #by thomas “Just Being A Decent Person” jopson; he starts volunteering at the library just so he can get closer to jops #(like the loser he is; bc why ask someone out directly when you can just hang around in their orbit and hope they notice you noticing them) #but the more time he spends at the library the more he comes to love it; and ends up volunteering to read to children on his free weekends #(my tumblr homies know exactly where i'm headed with this bc i am so transparent my mom might as well have called me “window”) #and jops; despite his better instincts; gets so turned on after hearing ned do voice impressions for fictional crayons while reading to #a bunch of enraptured rugrats that he decides then and there he absolutely can't NOT fuck ned senseless the second he gets his hands on him #meanwhile for the main fic; jirv and tartnell are both absolutely disgustingly in love but are also completely clueless #as to how to go about expressing interest in each other bc while i imagine jirv not being as repressed in this as he normally is in fanon; #he still hasn't actually figured out he's Big Time Gay™ yet and #tartnell on the other hand is both extremely attracted to and intimidated by the handsome; aloof yet kind; bible-quoting scotsman #who's decided to adopt him as his personal apple support technician #despite the fact that tartnell knows little more about iphones than jirv (seeing as he's been using android since smartphones took off) #god i'm in so deep about this stupid little au i've dreamed up that i just want to yell about it for hours on end #and despite knowing i'll likely NEVER get around to writing it; it is just... taking up Brain Space... that i already Do Not Have