#did you just assume it would be to hard for anyone to fact check?

[florilegia-or-what-you-will]

I really enjoy how often Geoffrey of Monmouth will say things like “What more can I say” or “I could keep going but it would take too long” or “I could describe this to you but another guy did it better”

I wish I could do that when I write essays

[rallamajoop]

That time Heisenberg stabbed Ethan with a rusty fencepost

Thanks to this one fic project that needed a pornographically detailed list of Ethan’s most memorable injuries, I've spent some time trying to figure out exactly what Heisenberg stabs him with when they first met. Working mostly from a free-camera version from youtube, I settled on calling a metal pipe with a square profile.

Tumblr: I was wrong. The reality is so much worse.

Having cracked the game files and installed my own free-camera mod, I tracked down the original asset for this thing, and, well...

No, really, this is it! Check out those matching cross-bars if you doubt me.

FWIW, it isn’t actually a spear. Those semi-mangled crossbars flag it instead as a spear-headed fence-post. (This may not be a distinction that Ethan would find very comforting after being stabbed with the thing, but there it is, regardless.)

In fact, if you poke around the cemetery area just outside the castle gate, you can even find the fence it presumably came from.

Look in on the cemetery near the church from the lane leading up to the Duke's shop beside it, and this is what you'll see.

It's not a perfect match (in fact, it's even worse viewed from the opposite side, because someone has clearly stuffed up the textures on different sides of the same asset). I'll also note that if you go back to this fence again after meeting Heisenberg, you won’t find any suspicious gaps in it where a post was recently ripped out. So I’m going to just go ahead and assume this particular piece was lying in a pile of surplus scrap in the cellar somewhere, and Heisenberg did not, in fact, drag the thing all the way there from well outside the whole damn building. I mean, at that point, you’re just showing off.

The fence post is, admittedly, pretty hard to get a good look at in the actual game. Unlike all the other crap Heisenberg already has levitating around him in this scene, the fencepost doesn’t appear at all until Heisenberg stabs Ethan with it. It actually seems to emerge at speed from between a couple of barrels at the back. But if you’re enough of a lunatic to play around with the various slow motion/rewind settings that came with the free camera mod, you can get a decent shot of it in flight, cleaning up any remaining doubt that this is the same asset that was used in game.

It even freaking spins in the air as it moves. FTR, yes, it does go in pointy-end first. And the whole fucking spearhead ends up buried in poor Ethan. (Please feel free to insert your own dick-joke here.) Those paying really close attention might even note that the blood on Ethan's shirt is present even before the spear hits him, but that's just going to be virtual-stunt-coordination having a normal one.

I can offer you no similarly definitive insight into why Heisenberg would think stabbing Ethan with this thing was a good idea. I can’t even tell you if he knew for sure that it was Ethan Winters he was talking to at this point (maybe he's just playing dumb, pretending not to recognise him. Or maybe he legit didn't know that Ethan himself had made an appearance until Miranda told him. Sure, he's already got that whole conspiracy board, but finding real pictures of this Ethan-guy is surprisingly hard.) But whether Heis was already testing out Ethan’s ‘interesting body’, or whether he’d just generally assumed that anyone who could survive a full lycan assault on the village wouldn’t be too seriously inconvenienced by a little stabbing, hoo boy was this one way to make a first impression.

I’m not even sure which of these losers is the bigger idiot here: the one who imagined Ethan might still agree to work with him even after inserting a very convincing imitation-spearhead into his intestines, or the one who never thought to seriously question how he keeps shrugging off injuries just as exciting as this one.

They probably deserve each other.

[girlgenius1111]

you can face this

barça x reader

r struggles with an eating disorder. her teammates catch on.

this [obviously] contains descriptions of an eating disorder. do not read if this could be triggering to you. please, just don't.

-----

You hadn't really realized that it had gotten bad again. It was one of those things that crept on you, unconscious bad habits making a return until you had fully relapsed. It was 0-100, and it was even more complicated now that you played for Barça. Not just because of the overbearing teammates, but also because your fitness was strictly kept track of- you had to remain at a weight that wouldn't flag with the physios, or affect your strength too much. But another part of you still hated that number on the scale- it was a constant battle between those two parts of you. The rational side, trying to keep it together, and the not so rational side that didn't care what it destroyed on it's quest to be smaller.

You kept up a surprisingly strong façade. It was easier when the team wasn't traveling, and obviously more complicated when you were. You lived alone in Barcelona, in a perfect little apartment, rather close by to the homes of your teammates, namely Alexia. She liked the younger players to live nearby, so she could keep an eye on everyone, she said.

Your teammates could tell you were having a hard time; it was obvious by the way they worked harder to get a laugh out of you, how they'd show up to hangout of the blue, just because they were in the neighborhood. None of them had approached you about what was bothering you yet, and you assumed they didn't have any idea what was really going on. There were clues, though, ones you weren't aware of, that they were most certainly picking up on.

The first clues weren't much; the way you'd pick at your food whenever you ate with the team. For your part, you did well to hide the fact that every bite was painful to choke down. Still, there was just something slightly off.

It was the quieter members of the team that noticed other things, but they didn't bring them up to anyone else, not yet. Not when it was just you changing rather quickly in the locker room, or how you often showed up at team dinners claiming to have already eaten.

-----

The first person to really notice that something wasn't just a little off, that something was wrong, was Pina. The two of you had finally convinced Alexia to allow you to room together; previously, she'd said no, arguing that you two would inevitably get up to trouble left to your own devices. You'd worn Alexia out, though, and both you and Pina were practically giddy when she'd flashed you with a warning look and read off your names together.

You'd managed to put it out of your head, how much of a hard time you were having. Until dinner that night. It was a rough day, rougher than you were used to, and while you normally could pretend pretty well in front of the team, you didn't feel like that was possible this particular evening. You'd gone to dinner, eaten as much as you could bare, before you mumbled something to the table about having a headache, and slipping back off to your room.

You were overwhelmed, really, and feeling incredibly alone. Something deep inside of you ached, and you wanted it to stop, leave you alone, just for one night. You were so frustrated, and pathetically, so sad. You thought you would have more time before Pina came back to the room, so you gave yourself the grace to breakdown, just a little. You could shower, wash away all traces of the tears, and be back to normal by the time your roommate returned.

What you somehow forgot, however, was that Pina was, while silly and mischievous, also one of the kindest people you'd ever met. You should have known that she'd come check on you, but you were slightly preoccupied with trying to keep a handle on your breakdown.

You didn't hear the click of the key card just before the door opened, and you were caught completely off guard when Claudia stepped inside, her face scrunching with worry as she caught sight of you curled up in the cozy chair in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly into your hands.

"Amiga! What is it?" She asked, rushing over to you. "Is it your headache? Should I get a physio?"

"No, I'm fine, Pina," you replied, wiping furiously at the tears that were still insisting on spilling from your eyes.

"Why are you crying if you're fine?" Pina asked in a quieter voice, on of her hands coming to rest on your knee.

“Claudia, seriously, I’m fine.” You insisted. You looked at her, then, and you looked so devastated, Pina knew instantly that you were lying. She felt so out of her league, so unsure what to do.

“Stay here.” She said after a minute, practically sprinting out of the room.

You knew she’d come back with someone, whoever she could find to fix you. This was the a job for an older player, not her. She gave good hugs, and could always make you laugh, but you needed someone older, someone wiser.

You sighed, knowing there was nothing you could do to stop her. You could only wait, and try to calm down.

You'd stopped crying, you really had, by the time Pina returned with Mapi in tow. You were prepared to act as though your friend was being dramatic, and really, you were fine, but then Mapi walked in, looking like she'd run the whole way to your room to check on you. The serious look on her face was such a departure from how she normally acted, that you were rather thrown off. She caught sight of you sitting on the bed, your red face, the slight downturn of your lips. What really got you was the way she didn't even say anything; she simply walked closer and opened her arms.

You were moving before you could even think to remain where you were, falling easily into the older girl's arms. They wrapped tight around you, and you buried your face in her shoulder. Tears ran off your face, collecting on Mapi's sweatshirt, but she held tight to you, one arm around your back, another holding your head close against her.

"It's alright, chica, we've got you." She murmured. You allowed yourself to sink into the comfort. For a moment, pretending that you weren't keeping so much inside, hidden away from the people that cared about you. You pretended that Mapi knew what was going on, and she was holding tight to you as reassurance, an unspoken promise that you'd be alright.

She didn't know what was wrong, though, and you weren't sure you'd be alright, not really. The little bubble of comfort and safety was broken when the defender pulled back, hands on your shoulders as she looked searchingly at you.

"What happened?" She asked. Her grip on you was tight, and you knew she wouldn't let go until you answered her. Pina was visible, just over Mapi’s shoulder, fidgeting with her hands and looking on nervously. Your only possible course of action was to lie, and to lie well.

"I don't know, I think I'm about to get my period or something," you lied. "I was just kind of sad, but it's fine, I'm fine now."

Mapi didn't look convince, nor did Pina.

"Are you sure? If something is bothering me, you can tell me. Or I can get Alexia if you want," Mapi suggested, beginning to turn toward the door.

That, you absolutely could not let happen. Alexia would get the truth out of you in seconds, especially when you were already so upset.

"No, seriously Mapi, I'm fine. Don't bother Alexia." You insisted, catching her arm and spinning her back around.

She eyed you for a minute, completely straight faced, before holding out her pinky to you. "Promise you are okay?" She asked.

You rolled your eyes, but linked your pinky with hers. "I promise."

She seemed satisfied after that, and you felt guilty about lying. It was for the best, though. You didn't need to worry your teammates, not when you were fine. Not when you had everything under control. Obviously, your motivation to lie went much deeper than that; the fear that they'd make you stop was suffocating.

-----

You shouldn't have felt guilty for lying, because Mapi went right to Alexia anyway. The Catalan Captain miraculously had her own room, for the 4th trip that year, although no one felt brave enough to comment on it. She opened the door warily, thinking Mapi was knocking just to chat, which she got enough of during the daytime hours.

"María, I'm really tired," Alexia started, glancing longingly back at her bed, where a nighttime call with her girlfriend and a cozy blanket awaited her.

"It's about y/n. I think something's wrong."

As Mapi had predicted, she didn't need to say more before Alexia was, now wide awake, stepping to the side, motioning for the defender to walk in.

"What is it?" She demanded once the door was shut behind her.

"Pina came to get me, and she said y/n was really upset about something, but she was pretending she was fine. I went back to their room and she had stopped crying, but as soon as I gave her a hug, she started crying again. And then once she'd stopped crying, she tried to tell me she was fine, something about getting her period and being sad for no reason. She pinky promised, but she was lying, Ale, I could tell. She looked so upset, like she was barely holding it together." Mapi's worry was evident in her tone, and, like you, Alexia noted the seriousness that was present on her friend's face. It wasn't normal, and it meant that, likely, there really was something to be worried about.

"Do you have any idea what she could be upset about?"

"No, not really. She's been a little off, I guess, but I can't think of what could be wrong."

Alexia sighed, silently agreeing with Mapi that you had been acting weird, but also that she couldn't think of a reason for it.

"I'll keep an eye on her, and I'll tell a couple of the others to as well. If something else happens, we can talk to her again." Alexia decided, somewhat uneasily. She wanted to figure out what was wrong, and fix it now, but suffocating you while you were already upset probably wasn't the best idea.

-----

In hindsight, maybe Alexia should have done something sooner. Your behavior remained off, but nothing else occurred that would really raise any red flags. That was, until the team had a double training session, and everyone ate lunch together. You had noticed more eyes on you in the last week, and figured that Mapi had probably asked a few of the older girls to keep an eye on you.

In an effort to convince them you were fine, you forced yourself to eat a normal amount of food at lunch, more than the carefully calculated portion you were intending to consume. It was alright, at first. You were able to distract yourself, joking around with your teammates. When you glanced down at your plate, though, finding it empty, you felt a wave of horror wash over you. You had no choice, no other option. It was too much. You couldn't do this.

You slipped away from the table after a couple of minutes of trying to calm yourself down. It felt like everyone was looking at you, judging you. You made it to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet.

In that moment, you hated yourself. For eating too much, for caring about eating too much. For doing this. Tears fell, unrelated to what you were forcing your body to do. You just wanted to be normal, to feel good. You wanted to look in the mirror, and not hate what you saw looking back at you. You wanted to see what everyone else apparently saw; a normal, average looking person. You hated this, hated what you were doing, but you couldn't stop. You wanted to, more than anything.

When the door creaked open, and you realized you hadn't locked the door behind you, you were caught in the worst position possible. You didn't need to look up, see the disgusted faces looking back at you, to know that you wouldn't be able to play this off. It was obvious that you weren't just ill. You were sick.

You didn't look up, couldn't look up, at whoever was at the door. You sat back against the wall, staring numbly at the floor.

"Go get Alexia. Discreetly." You heard Ingrid instruct, and you heard Aitana reply quietly before her footsteps echoed back down the hall.

The resounding emotion was shame; for being so weak, for being caught doing this. You felt so stupid. You were an athlete, you couldn't be behaving like this. At the same time, the need to lie, to not let them make you stop persisted. You were torn, completely at a loss for words. So, instead of saying something you couldn't think through all the way, you remained quiet.

------

Aitana ran like there was a fire to the cafeteria, only slowing to a walk when she neared the doors. Her heart ached for you, truly. You'd looked so destroyed, the hatred you held for yourself clear on your face. She sped walk to where Alexia was sitting, making eye contact as the blonde turned towards her on instinct, as if sensing that something wasn't right. Mapi was on her other side, and she'd known something was wrong the second she saw her girlfriend go after you, but she'd been deep in conversation with Irene, and she hadn't wanted to overreact.

Aitana leaned down, speaking quietly in Alexia's ear. "Come with me, it's y/n."

Alexia nodded once, her expression firm as she stood. As if they were 2 ducklings following their mother, Mapi and Irene rose too, following their captain and Aitana out into the hall. They stopped just outside the doors looking expectantly at the younger player.

Aitana worried her lip in between her teeth, looking intensely at Alexia. She didn't want to say what was going on, not in front of the other girls. Ingrid had told her to get Alexia, and to be discreet. You didn't need a crowd of people.

"What happened?" Alexia asked after a minute, her voice anxious.

"I... Ingrid told me to get you, and to be discreet." Aitana's gaze flickered to the other girls, and the blonde captain caught her meaning.

"Mapi, Irene, go back inside, I'll take care of it."

They both began to protest, but Alexia remained resolute, shaking her head at them. "No, Ingrid said just me. Whatever is going on we don't need to overwhelm her." The other girls turned, sighing dramatically, walking back into the cafeteria.

Alexia fixed her gaze back on Aitana, wordlessly asking for more information.

"Ingrid and I followed her to the bathroom, and we heard her getting sick. Ingrid opened the door, it wasn't locked, and she was... she was making herself..." Aitana trailed off uncomfortably.

The pieces started to fall together for Alexia, and she didn't need the younger woman to say anything else.

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Tana. I'll make sure she's okay."

Aitana nodded nervously, watching after her captain as the blonde made her way down the hall and towards the bathroom that the brunette had indicated.

-----

To your surprise, Ingrid didn't try to make you talk. Her and Aitana had watched you leave the room, and worried that you were ill or something, with the look on your face. They'd followed you, hovering outside the bathroom door, before trying the handle. Ingrid hadn't expected what she found, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do. All she knew was that you needed help.

She shut the door behind her, locking it this time, before grabbing a paper towel. She got it wet with warm water, before carefully approaching you. Ingrid flushed the toilet, before lifting your chin to face her. You shut your eyes, unable to really look at her. You couldn't see how disgusted with you she was; that would be it. That would shatter you beyond repair.

Ingrid carefully wiped your mouth off, before taking your hand in hers, and wiping your fingers off too. The action made you inhale sharply. She knew, she'd seen. You knew she had, but the silent acknowledgement made you sick to your stomach all over again.

The Norwegian disposed of the paper towel, turning towards the door when a quiet knock sounded. You clenched your jaw, clenched your fists, dreading the conversation you knew your captain was about to force you to have.

You didn't want a lecture. You knew what you were doing wasn't okay, wasn't healthy. You knew, and you did it anyway. Because, despite what you told yourself, it wasn't about being healthy. It was about looking the way you thought you should.

Alexia entered, taking in Ingrid's troubled expression, before her eyes fell to you. You looked hopeless, completely embarrassed, and Alexia wanted to fix it. Make you understand that you didn't have to be embarrassed, not with her. She wanted to promise that everything would be okay, that she'd make sure that you were okay. She wanted you to let her in, finally, admit that you were hurting.

None of these things were conversations to be had in the bathroom, though. Alexia walked forward, holding out a hand down to you. Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. There wasn't any revulsion evident on her face, and even though you wanted to run, hide, pretend that this wasn't happening, you knew you couldn't do that.

You took Alexia's hand, allowing her to pull you to your feet. She was steady where you were shaky, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and leading you out of the bathroom. She stopped briefly, looking down at you.

"Do you want Ingrid to come, or would you rather talk just the two of us?" She asked softly.

Your eyes flickered to Ingrid, not wanting to hurt her feelings when she'd been so kind, but also thinking that you couldn't handle talking to more than one person about what was going on. It was horribly overwhelming enough as it was.

Ingrid caught your hesitance, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "It's alright, elskling. You talk with Ale, okay? And maybe later you can come over and have a movie night with me and María?"

You half smiled at her, as it was all you could manage, a smile she returned, before she headed the opposite way down the hall.

Alexia tightened her grip around you, like she was a little afraid you were going to run. To be fair, you'd considered it, but the tight hold your captain had on you had shut that option down. She led you through the maze of hallways, eventually finding a room that seemed to meet her requirements. It was a little relaxation lounge, one no one ever used as it wasn't very big, and the team kind of stuck together.

Alexia sat down next to you on one of the sofa's, and you appreciated that she didn't sit in the chair across the room; that would have felt terrifying like a therapy session, and you definitely weren't there yet.

"How long has this been going on?" Alexia asked. Her question startled you, having been sure she was going to try to make you talk first. She liked to do that, feeling like important discussions with her teammates were more successful when they steered the conversation. However, Alexia knew you wouldn't steer it anywhere helpful.

"How long has what been going on?" You replied, instantly regretting the words. Why had you said that? Alexia was aware that you knew what she was asking about, and she wouldn't let you get away with playing dumb.

Shaking her head, she spoke firmly. "No, we are not going to do that. Aitana and Ingrid saw, pequeña. We have to talk about this."

"I don't want to." You murmured, resting your head in your hands. You didn't. You would have done practically anything to avoid it.

"I know." Alexia told you sympathetically, rubbing her hand up and down your back. "We have to, though. I care about you way too much to not do anything about this." Ale paused. "When did it start?"

"It was bad when I was younger, a teenager. And I went to therapy, and I was doing well for a while. I'm not really sure what happened, why it started again."

Alexia didn't miss that you didn't answer her question. "When did it start?" She asked again.

You sighed, head still hidden away in your hands. "A few weeks ago. It wasn't that bad at first, I didn't notice. And then it was, and it was too late, I couldn't fix it."

"Why?" Alexia asked next.

You shook your head, even as the words threatened to spill out; the words that harassed you, that tainted every meal.

"Come on, pequeña. I am not going to judge you, just tell me."

Often, Alexia was seen as this intimidating, hardcore player. She'd do anything for her teammates, though, and she was capable of extreme kindness. If you were lucky enough to know Ale, to really know her, you knew how good she was. Maybe it was this, one of the best people you knew begging you to talk to her, that made you relent.

"I... I hate the way that I look. I hate it." Your words were dripping with self loathing. Alexia understood the unspoken words; you hated yourself.

There were a lot of things Alexia wanted to tell you, but didn't, not yet. She'd need them in the future, when the urge returned, and you fought against it. She'd need the reminders then.

Instead, she coaxed your face away from your hands, looking intently at you as she spoke.

"You cannot keep doing this. You know that. As your captain, and as your friend, cariño, you need help. We need to get you help."

Your eyes began to well with tears. Alexia took a shaky breath.

"And I know you do not want it, but you deserve it. Can you let me get you help, pequeña? Please?"

You considered for a couple moments. "What if I can't get better? What if... what if I can't?"

Above all, that was your biggest fear. Not being strong enough to beat it. It was why you resisted help; you didn't want to let everyone down if you failed. You wanted to be strong enough, you just weren't convinced you were. You were weak enough to start this, to fall into the horrible loop, to begin with.

"You will, cariño. You know how I know?"

You looked at her, eyes wide and watery. "How?" Your voice cracked, and Alexia took one of your hands in hers.

"Because you do not give up. You are one of the strongest people I know." You looked doubtful, still. "And I don't give up. I will not give up on you. We will get you better, together. You will not have to do any of it alone."

"Do you promise?" You asked, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked at the blonde.

Alexia didn't say anything, she just held out her pinky towards you. You linked your pinkie with hers, and knew, somewhere deep within you, that this wasn't a promise she was going to break.

-----

Alexia did end up telling you all of the things she'd thought of, eventually. She wrote them down in a little note on her phone, not wanting to forget what to say, not when you needed her. Your teammates, the ones who knew, who you trusted enough to let know, used them too.

-----

That it didn't matter what you looked like, being so unkind to your body was never acceptable.

Alexia told you this one evening she spent at your house, after you'd had a long therapy session. You'd arrived home, dissolving into tears, and somehow, she had known you'd needed her.

She showed up on your doorstep like some kind of magical being that could sense when her friends were sad, letting you cry into her for at least an hour.

She'd whispered the words into your hair, when you asked her if she thought getting better was worth it, if it was so painful.

You believed her, that day. Just a little.

-----

She loved you, and there was nothing to be embarrassed about, or ashamed of.

She told you this a week later when you slipped up, and you'd called her from your bathroom floor, words unintelligible through your sobs. Alexia dropped everything to come over, and spent a while promising you that relapsing didn't make you a bad person. That you were doing your best, and that was all you could expect from yourself. That relapses were a part of recovering, as much as it sucked.

When she said the words, you believed her, a bit more this time. She'd been at your apartment before you could really even get any words out. She wouldn't have done that if she didn't care, if she was disgusted with you. If she didn't love you like she said she did.

-----

Being healthy, above all else, was what mattered, and what you'd been doing wasn't.

This was Ingrid and Mapi. You'd gone over to their house for dinner, which proved to be challenging. You confessed how guilty you felt for eating enough, and how guilty you felt for not eating enough. It was hard to figure out what the right thing was, when everything felt like the wrong decision.

Mapi spoke these words to you, sounding wiser and more sure than you'd ever heard her. You trusted Mapi, you trusted Ingrid. If they said that what you were doing wasn't healthy, they weren't lying. Another piece of you got better that day, even as it was one of the hardest you faced.

-----

You were beautiful, and strong, and your body allowed you to play the sport you loved.

You lost count of who told you this one. Irene, Lucy, Alexia, Ingrid, Mapi, Pina. It became something of a mantra, something they'd make you repeat when they saw you having a bad day.

Because, above all, you loved football.

You learned to love your body for allowing you to play football.

You learned to love your body just for being itself, regardless of what it looked like.

You learned to love yourself, to not put so much pressure on everything you did.

You healed, slowly. You knew, without a doubt, that you couldn't have done it without the team. You didn't want to conceive of a world where you would have to struggle alone, because you weren't. As long as they were around, you never would be.

-----

it's a good thing i have therapy tomorrow!

i joke, although i do have therapy tomorrow.

getting better is so worth it. i promise.

[vandal-flower]

Take into Consideration

Blue Lock Boys and the things that they do in a relationship.

Requested Characters: Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser and Oliver Aiku.

Notes: A.B.A's theme Symphony goes hard.

Sae Itoshi

The Small things he does for you.

It's the small things that make your relationship with Sae truly bloom.

From bringing little souvenirs, buying your favourite meal, and even watching the same show with you over, and over again.

He may look like he's irritated, but he was born with the face that freezes people's hearts. But it somehow warmed up yours.

Maybe you like them weird.

According to his teammates and family, it's a miracle he's even in a relationship with someone. His brother, Rin, informed you that had it not been for you entering his life, Sae would probably grow old, bitter and most importantly, single.

"Sae, would you get my-"

"I found your socks."

In his hands was your socks that you've been wanting to wear, but couldn't find them. So you, being you, assumed it was lost.

"Where did you find them?", you inspected the cotton made object in your hands. "I've been looking for them like a mad person!".

He shrugs it off and just hands it to you. Without wasting any second, you hug him from behind and gently kiss the nape of his neck.

"Thank you, Sae.", you whisper.

"It's nothing.", he answers, turning himself around just so he can hug you, and hide the faint redness on his ears.

Michael Kaiser

Would never do it for anyone else, but you're the exception.

He is the dictionary definition of "I don't run for anyone, but for you, I'll make an effort."

At first, he is drama queen, ready to complain about everything and anything as it doesn't suit his style.

But, if you stroke his ego well enough, (or sees Isagi, Don Lorenzo, or someone who is making his life difficult), prepare to see this man go toe-to-toe with giants and win.

His cocky nature is just part of a façade he puts on in front of people. Deep inside, he's genuine and very clingy when the two of you are alone.

"Please, Michael."

"Absolutely not, the fact you're asking should be against my rights."

Before you could even finish, he dived into the pool, surprising everyone. He then got up, slicked his hair back and exited the pool.

He looked like he was in an edit, had you not had your phone recording, you would've cried.

He looked at with a serious look, "You better send me the video later, and I want my cuddles."

Oliver Aiku

It's stupid in theory, but since it's him...

Oliver Aiku. Damn. That's one rough world you are living, but worry not for he'll do something absolutely ridiculous, but since it's him...

We can let it slide...

You swore he acted like those people in thirst traps, but he did it so well you might as well forget about it.

Even with some people giving you looks like you have stolen someone's husband, you don't mind and feign ignorance for a crime you have never committed.

Well, you did steal most women's dream husband, but he was yours first!

"So, how do I look?"

He emerged out of the closet with a tuxedo. But there was a problem. The stubble on his chin was working its magic, his tie hanged low.

It was low enough to see a glimpse of his chest, and the veins popping from his hands. And his cocky smile.

You would see this in a form of your friends' photos, but to see this before your very eyes. You are at a loss of words.

"You know, I can stay here with you, that is if you are jealous?", his smirk got even wider than before. You'll let it slide this once.

"We're watching the new movie that just got released, I'll get the popcorn."

Hi.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

[maybege]

Can I request Hotch for 45, 138, and 266 for the prompts? ❤️

Thank you!! :)

Big Dick Energy: The Sequel's Sequel

Summary: Hotch grants the team an extra night in Vegas and as luck would have it, you have to share a room.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, spitting, oral (m receiving), fingersucking, oral fixation, verbal degradation, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Prompts: #45 “I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + #138 “Were you just masturbating?” + #266 “I dare you to fuck____.”

Thank you so much for requesting these wonderful prompts! I know it has taken me way too long (1,5 years) but hey better late than never. I am so happy with how it turned out. Please do reblog and comment and let me know what you think! Shoutout goes out to @galacticgraffiti for getting me back on my Criminal Minds shit.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Sometimes miracles happen.

Like when that last little bit of coffee beans was enough for Rossi’s espresso and subsequently saved the entire office from having to endure his grumpy demeanour for the afternoon.

Or that time Spencer managed to fly his paper plane all across the BAU’s desks, only stopped by Chief Strauss walking in the line of fire.

Or when a case took you to Las Vegas and SSA Agent Hotchner agreed for you all to just stay a night longer. Like, in Vegas. For free. For work.

You knew the suggestion had been meant as a joke by Derek but as soon as Hotch had actually agreed to it, no one protested and you made the unilateral silent decision to just run with it. Who were you to look a gifted horse in the mouth?

Still, you knew you were all thinking the same thing.

“Drugs!” Penelope exclaimed in her room, colourful bracelets dangling from her wrist, “There is no other way. He is taking drugs.”

“I doubt Hotch is taking drugs, Penelope,” JJ said calmly, though she did not look quite as certain as one would assume. The blonde woman was sitting cross-legged on the large bed, shoes thrown somewhere in the corner. “After all these hard cases, I am sure he just wants to give us a reprieve from everything.”

“Hotch never gives us a reprieve,” Garcia gasped, sounding like she had just run a marathon only to find out there we still a few miles to go, “What if this is all an elaborate plan to have me be workplace inappropriate on the record and Strauss can finally order that evaluation that she has been holding over my head since the coffee incident?”

You smiled, amused at her nervous antics, and – to be honest – to keep you from defending him. Hotch had found a very soft spot in your heart. A spot too soft for a man that was supposed to be your boss and nothing but your boss. Though it had been a long time since he had been only your boss. Ever since the plane, ever since the changing room, you could not deny that there was tension between you two. And not the kind of tension where he looked like he would fire you at any moment. No, the kind of tension where he looked like he was about to reach under your skirt and check if you wore that lingerie he had bought for you (and fucked you in).

You had had the hope that after your latest encounter, you would have more chances to … well, to have Aaron Hotchner fuck you. But there was always something and when days had turned into weeks had turned into months, doubt started to creep in whether he actually wanted anything from you. Maybe he had just been out for a quick fuck and that was it?

And all of that did not get any easier with the fact that you were working together. That he was your boss. That your colleagues were the best profilers in the country.

So, you had to take great care in remaining as neutral about him as possible and part of that involved focusing more on the sheer panic that Garcia exuded when she was outside of her office rather than your desire to protect him from any doubts just because he wanted to do something nice for the team.

A glance at the woman on your right, leaning against the doorway, showed you that Emily Prentiss was thinking the exact same thing. “Are you sure this has to do with Hotch’s unusual behaviour or the fact that you feel uneasy in the field?”

“Alright, alright, maybe I am,” she pressed a hand to her chest, “A little nervous at being here but you cannot deny that this feels like a trap! You know how I get around Morgan when I’ve had a few drinks.”

“You don’t need drinks to act that way around him,” JJ interjected, “And I think that is what you are so worried about.”

“What if I do something I can never take back?” Garcia asked, despair and

“Well that depends on if you would even want to take it back,” Emily shrugged, “Because from where I stand there is nothing Derek wouldn’t want you to do to him.”

A hot pink pillow flew in her direction. “Hey!”

A knock on the door snapped you out of your conversation and you turned around to find none other than the man that plagued your dreams day and night standing in the doorway. He looked serious, his brows furrowed – with a bright pink pillow in his hands.

“I am sorry to interrupt what I am sure is a very riveting discussion,” your boss said, looking directly at you, “But we have a problem with the rooms. Could you come down to reception with me?”

“Uh,” you said, “Sure.”

You stepped out of the room. Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat and you cursed yourself for not having changed since coming back from the station. (As if Hotch ever paid attention to your outfits.)

Walking down the corridor, neither one of you said anything but as you waited for the elevator, his hand landed on the low of your back. It was a light touch, nothing to lose your mind over. But your breath hitched anyway, thinking of all the other ways he had touched you before. You glanced up at him, noticing how the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest bit.

He had noticed!

You were not sure what weighed more. Your exasperation or your embarrassment at having been caught. But Hotch did not leave you because his hand guided you in the elevator. For a second, you wondered if he would press the emergency button like in the shows and press you against the wall and kiss you breathless.

He did not.

“What, uh, what is the problem?” you asked, finally feeling sure enough to speak.

“Extending everyone’s rooms for another night did not go as smoothly as possible,” he explained, his voice flat, “A few of us need to room together.”

“Oh,” you said, the wheels in your head turning. Because –

“Everybody else is already rooming together,” he said what you were thinking, “They have one other room available but I need your approval,” he paused for a second, “your consent.”

The hotel you stayed in was right by the strip, the ground floor a vast labyrinth of poker tables, arcade games and anything one could ever imagine being in a Vegas casino. As you passed the crowds of run-down partygoers, the smell of marijuana in the air, you could hear the rattling of the, the cheers of the winners and the groans of the losers.

Hotch’s hand did not leave your back.

It was reassuring in a way.

“Ah there you are again,” the lady said, sounding awfully cheerful at seeing him again. You shifted, trying to ignore the unpleasant pang in your chest area. If Hotch noticed her obvious attempt at flirting, he did not show it.

“I brought the colleague I would have to share the room with,” he stated, “Could you explain again what kind of room it would be?”

Have to, he said, have to.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and you pressed your lips together.

“Like I said before,” she explained, “We only have one free room tonight. It’s a little further than the other rooms in your booking but it is a king so it might be big enough to share.”

“It just might be,“ he replied, stoic as ever when he turned to you, his thumb brushing over the small of your back, “I doubt we will spend much time sleeping anyway. What do you think?“

You were convinced he knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t be saying these things and touching you like this if he didn’t. And yet, he looked at you so coolly, so very unbothered, that a small voice in your head wondered whether you were imagining it all.

Aaron Hotchner, divorced father of one, your boss and the last man to make you come, was driving you absolutely crazy.

“I’m game,” you said, sounding way too chipper and high-pitched for your own taste, “It won’t be too bad, I’m sure.”

You tried to ignore the way your stomach threw somersaults when he gave you that little half-smile that made his eyes crinkle. And yet when you saw that twinkle you knew that yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

*

Act normal. Act normal. Act fucking normal.

The hotel room you landed in was indeed almost at the other end of the hotel than your previous one, and quite a few floors up and your first thought at that revelation was that it would allow you to be as loud as you want without fear of your teammate hearing you.

How appropriate.

 “Do you mind if I take the right side?”

You looked up, completely dumbfounded. Hotch stood by the bed already (and you tried your hardest not to think about what he would look like in that bed), his travel bag on the little armchair in the corner. It was kind of fitting, seeing how put together he looked even when he had the same 5 minutes to pack up his stuff as you did. But your travel bag was half-zipped closed, your clothes a wrinkled mess inside as you just threw everything inside in the hopes that it would survive the short journey until they could be unpacked again.

It was human, you knew, nothing out of the extraordinary. But next to Hotch who probably folded his underwear, you suddenly felt like you would never be able to reach him.

“Uh, no, not at all,” you murmured, walking to the side that was closer to the window. For a second you wondered if it hadn’t been about right or left but rather which side was closer to the door. But you shook that thought off as soon as it had appeared.

He didn’t say anything but started to unpack his things. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noted his neatly folded pyjamas (you could count the times you had seen him wear anything but a suit on one hand) and the little toiletry bag that was void of any water stains.

It was silent for a few moments as you sorted your own clothes, putting your crumpled-up pyjamas under your pillow, getting out your toiletries (one by one because that bag would look even more a mess next to his neatly organized one) and seeing what clothing items you had left that were not sweat- and/or blood-stained.

The selection was not the biggest.

In fact, it consisted of the clothes you were wearing now (only if you ) and a single pair of panties.

Great.

For a moment you contemplated enquiring about the hotel laundry service.

You knew the plan was to go out tonight and explore all the things the city had to offer (Reid mentioned a museum on the old gangsters of the city’s past but you had a sneaking suspicion that you would land in one bar or another). This was Vegas after all and you would be stupid not to take advantage of this unexpected vacation. But something about the thought of wearing your three-day-worn sweater in that heat made you hesitate.

Your phone dinged, finding a selfie with Garcia, JJ and Prentiss, all excitedly grinning into the camera.

Greatest Garcia: Let’s go shopping in Vegas! <3

And that is how your problem solved itself before it could really turn into a problem.

*

Dress shopping in Vegas made you feel like you were a different person altogether. Everything was full of glitter and soft fabrics and ideas of a life so different from your own. It gave you that little desire in the back of your head of wanting to play dress up, wanting to pretend to be a woman who was confident and sexy and could show up in bars and have heads turn towards her. You wanted

And so, it came that you put on the most revealing dress you had ever worn. It was incredibly short and incredibly glittery making you feel like you were “cosplaying a mirror ball” (Emily’s words, not yours). But not in a bad way.

On the contrary, when you had half of the BAU standing outside your changing room, whistling and cheering you on when you stepped outside, how could you not buy the dress that just barely covered your ass and was so very tight-fitting?

“You look stunning,” Garcia snapped her fingers, “You have to buy it! I don’t make the rules.”

Deep down you were not sure if the decision to buy the dress had been driven by your friends’ support or the few cocktails you had slurped during pre-game or perhaps the wishful thinking that a certain BAU chief would see you in this dress and decide to keep you in his bed all night long. Probably a little bit of everything.

You had been the first to find your dress which meant that you could spend the rest of the afternoon with your friends and watch them choose their outfits. JJ got a dark blue something that made her look absolutely gorgeous (Prentiss seemed to think so too if her appreciative over her (girl)friend’s figure was anything to go by) and Garcia found something that was even more colourful – something you had seriously doubted if it could be achieved.

By the end of the day, you were all sitting in the hotel lounge, shopping bags at your feet and cocktail glasses in your hands. You were the epitome of relaxation, the stress of the last few days finally wearing off you and you found yourself enjoying Garcia’s stories and Prentiss’ and JJ’s banter.

“Hey!”

You looked up, finding Reid standing at the edge of your little circle, looking as happy as ever to see you. Only he was not alone …

“Officer Greggs,” Prentiss was the first to speak, “What a surprise to you here. I thought for sure you were going to spend the day at the office today.”

Officer Greggs was on the police force you had assisted in your last case. He had led the case before your arrival and despite his age, had several people under his command. Rossi had described him as “surprisingly competent for a man his age” and Reid had bonded with him over his childhood in a city that was never really seen for its residential aspects. He was a nice man. Good-looking. Certainly your type if you had not been hopelessly in love with your boss.

“Yeah, we thought it might be a good idea to just let loose for the weekend,” the tall man explained, his hands in the pocket of his pants. He wore jeans and a green shirt, showing off the muscles in his arms. The way he said we let you know that it really hadn’t been his idea but that his colleagues had dragged him along.

Your lips quirked up. That reminded you of someone.

His dark eyes met yours in a light smile. “Who knows,” he said, smiling at you and no one else, “Maybe we see each other around.”

*

Seeing Aaron Hotchner step freshly out of the shower, wearing only his slacks and a white undershirt had your pussy clamping around nothing. You had not been prepared for this sight and it felt like an attack. It had to be.

His hair was a little damp still and you noticed he had shaved; his jaw was void of any stubble and it made you want to run your fingers along his jawline. He was looking down at something, a little furrow between his brows from concentration. You followed his gaze and regretted it instantly. His belt, you realized a little belatedly, he was fixing his belt. His veiny hands working with the buckles made you want to drop to your knees and beg him to take that belt off entirely.

He didn’t need it anyway. Not unless he wanted to tie you up.

You gulped.

When he looked up, his brows were furrowed still and you froze, afraid that if you moved it would betray how much you had been staring at him.

“What are you wearing?”

You could see his mouth move but you were not quite prepared to hear what he was actually saying. “What?”

“What are you wearing?” he asked, sounding like he was about to berate you in his office. You could not hide your frown.

You had literally just gotten ready, hurrying into your dress while he was safe inside the shower. And now he came out, looking like the half-god he was, and was criticizing your outfit?

The tinge of insecurity was overshadowed by a wave of frustration.

Was he really that displeased? Did he really have the audacity to talk to you like that? Had you been that wrong in your impression of him?

Your mouth was open, stinging words already on your tongue, but then he looked up again and you realized … you realized he was turned on. His eyes were dark and unmistakably roaming over the bare skin of your legs and cleavage and there was that tightness in his jaw that you knew showed his self-control.

Your words of protest died on your tongue and in a split second he was standing right in front of you. He smelled of hotel shower gel and his cologne. Your hand landed on his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. You realized you had never seen him undressed and the sudden desire to run your hands over his chest and under the hem of his shirt filled you.

“We are going out tonight,” you stated in a whisper, “And we, uh, we went out to get something fun.”

He hummed, an amused glint in his eyes you were once again struck by how much happier he looked when he smiled. “So, this is,” his hands landed on your hips, “fun?”

It would certainly be fun if he took that dress off you.

He seemed to think the same because his fingertips skimmed over the hem of your dress until they slipped under it, rough skin brushing over where your thighs met your ass. “It’s a shame I couldn’t buy you some more lingerie,” he noted, his voice deep and warm as his nose brushed against yours, “You would look stunning on this bed in nothing but the prettiest lace.”

“Or without it,” you added cheekily, rising onto your tiptoes so you could brush your lips over his.

He made a low sound in his agreement, the way his hands tightened on your ass letting you know just how much he liked that idea.

His lips touched yours, just briefly, just a peck as if to test the waters. But all it managed to do was break the dam of all the desire you had held back these past few weeks. You opened your mouth instantly and Hotch took over control, his mouth moving against yours, making you shiver.

“It’s been way too long,” you whined, tilting your head back when he kissed you. The tall man hummed, pulling you against him. Your hands wandered up to the back of his neck, feeling the softness of his hair there.

“Wanted to have you in my bed at least once between Idaho and now,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin.

Your bodies were flush against each other. You could feel every single inch of him and it still was not enough. If you could just – and if he would just – fuck, you didn’t want to leave this room all night.

His belt buckle dug into your belly and you could feel his prominent erection through his slacks. You gasped, your fingers tightening on his hair and he growled, his hips snapping forward. The motion had you taking a step back and he followed immediately, not even the edge of the bed stopping him from urging closer to you.

And you did not want him to stop.

A knock on your door snapped you out of it. Hotch growled, his hands squeezing your ass and his teeth closing on your bottom lip. “Hotch,” you murmured, “Someone’s there.”

“If you’re quiet enough, they’ll leave,” he whispered hotly against you. His fingertips swiped over your panties and there was no mistaking how wet you already were. Hotch seemed to think so, too because when another knock came, his fingers hooked your panties to the side.

“Aaron,” you gasped, gently pulling away from him. That seemed to get to him because he took one long step away from you, your body instantly missing him. He looked just as affected as you felt. His hair was a mess, his lips looked so fucking kissable and there was the outline of his cock. The mere sight of it made you want to get on your knees.

But this was not the time and both of you knew it.

Another insistent knock at the door had you move as fast as lightning.

“Bathroom,” you brought out and Hotch nodded, looking like he was back to his no-nonsense self.

In a hurry, you pulled your dress down, rubbing your palm over your mouth and trying your best to look like you weren’t just the most turned-on you had been for weeks.

You opened the door with a flourish only to be faced with an impatient Penelope who took you in with wide eyes.

“Honey you are flowing!” she said, way too loudly, way too happy and way too –

“How many drinks have you had?” you asked, eyeing the half-empty cocktail glass in her hand. It had not one, not two but three colourful umbrellas in there.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter now when they’re so tasty,” she waved off, “What is more important is how you managed to look this good. It's unfair, really, here I am trying on dress after dress and do you know how many hairclips I went through to find the right one and then here you are, looking like,“ she gasped as if she had just had one of her genius ideas. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she stage-whispered, “Were you just masturbating?”

“Oh my god no,” you protested instantly, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks, “Why – why would you say something like that?”

“Cause you look like you just had the best time,” she wriggled her eyebrows, “And I speak from experience.”

“Garcia,” Hotch warned from somewhere behind you and you wondered how he had gotten himself in control on such short notice, “I don’t think that line of thought is appropriate.”

“Of course, sir, I apologize,” she didn’t miss a beat, her voice as happy as always. At least three drinks, you thought, this is no-inhibitions-Penelope. “Now are you two ready or not? I have got a hunk of a man waiting for me in the lobby and I won’t forgive either of you if we miss the first round.”

*

Vegas was everything everyone had always made it out to be.

Just much louder.

Much brighter.

Much more crowded.

The bright lights made the entire street seem like a theme park and you stared in wonder at all the hotels, casinos and bars and their very colourful neon advertisements. Reid was next to you, not paying attention to any of it, and you wondered how he, with all his peculiarities, experienced childhood in the city of sin.

“You would be surprised how much quieter it is if you just never go here.”

Your confusion must have translated onto your face because the young man grinned. “Everybody asks the same thing when they realize where I grew up,” he shrugged, “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Derek called him from up front. You noted with a smile that his arm was already around Penelope who gazed up at him with the love-dovey look she got around him. Reid followed his call, picking up his step to catch up with them and you smiled, watching as they laughed and bantered.

Hotch was next to you now, wearing slacks and a dark grey dress shirt. You didn’t even know he owned one. But now he was wearing it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it did things to you. Things you tried not to make too obvious because the night was young still and if you were already this wet you didn’t want to think of the state of your panties in a few hours.

“Have you ever been to Vegas?” you asked him instead, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His eyes reflected the colourful lights. “There were a few cases that took us here,” he confirmed, “Though we did not make it a habit to stay here longer.”

“Why now?” you pried.

His face turned towards you, the shining lights of the strip making his profile seem even sharper. Dark eyes met yours.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours as you crossed the street, “It felt like we, like the team, needed some time to recharge.”

*

“Truth or dare?”

A glance around the group let you know that, much like in high school, there was really only one answer that would be accepted.  

“Dare,” you decided, your heart pounding in your chest. Emily’s broad grin did not ease your discomfort.

“I dare you to fuck Officer Greggs over there,” she revealed, nodding to the man who stood at the bar, “He has been eyeing you all night.”

“Fuck him?” Morgan echoed, his arm still thrown around a very giddy Penelope, “Now that’s a lot to ask, isn’t it?”

“What? He’s a good-looking man,” Emily defended her choice, “And it’s obviously not about actually fucking him. It’s about seeing if she could.”

“If she wanted to,” JJ added with a determined nod, her faked sobriety betrayed by the way her eyes were already half-lidded and how her hands did most of the talking for her.

Rossi looked totally unimpressed if amused, and Hotch … Hotch looked just unimpressed.

A flash of excitement coursed through you at the possibility that he was maybe jealous.

“Alright,” you heard yourself say, taking a last sip from your glass, “Wish me luck.”

“In that dress, you don’t need luck,” Morgan joked and you laughed, feeling more and more confident. You turned sideways, trying to make your way out between Hotch’s and Garcia’s chairs. It was a tight fit and, sure, you could have taken the easier route. But you were buzzed enough to want to have Hotch close. And to see how he eyed you up close.

Which he did.

He was sitting in his chair, legs spread wider than normal and your eyes fell to his hand, laying on his thigh. Your knee bumped into his thigh and you could see his fingers twitch, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the light.

You bit the inside of your cheek trying to get yourself to move. After all, you had a dare to fulfil. Or at least attempt to fulfil.

“Have fun!” JJ sing-songed behind you and you threw her a look that had everyone laughing. Except for Hotch.

The music was loud and the place was crowded. Much like the rest of the city on a Friday night. Yet, it did not take long for you to spot Officer Greggs. Probably because he wanted to be spotted.

He was standing at the bar with a few of his colleagues you recognized from work over the last few days. It was a direct line of sight from you to him and when he raised his glass to you, you knew he had been waiting for this moment for a while. This was your chance.

Walking towards him, you made sure your dress did not ride up too much and that your hips could sway from side to side without stumbling in your heels. Despite this dress making you feel different, you were still not the self-assured, flirty woman of your wishful thinking.

But you also did not need to be.

“I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to come and chat me up,” Greggs teased you with a grin, his colleagues subtly moving away. Interesting, you noted, that his interest really did not seem to be a secret at all in his team.

“Are you telling me I am late?” you laughed, leaning onto the bar next to him.

The tall man looked you over, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress and your cleavage. (Much like Hotch earlier, but you tried to ignore that thought.) “I would never,” he drawled, taking a big swallow from his beer, “You are right on time, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He shifted on his feet, closer to you, and you noted how his arm fell down, his hand landing on your hip. His touch was soft and warm and not necessarily unwelcome. Here was an attractive, kind-hearted man that was clearly interested in you. And yet all you could think about was Hotch.

As if on their own accord, your eyes shifted back to the group. There wasn’t a direct line of sight, too many people waking to and from, but in the rare moments where you could, you caught glimpses of Hotch.

And he was looking directly at you.

“You okay?”

Gregg’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Yeah,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him and giving him a smile, “Sorry, just got distracted there for a second.”

Your words – as fake as they sounded to your ears – seemed to seem genuine for him. His lips pulled up in a broad smile and his hand got a little heavier on your hip. “I – I was actually hoping we would get a few moments alone today,” he said, getting even closer to you, “You’re quite intriguing if I do say so myself.”

His nose was almost touching yours which meant his mouth was almost touching yours and suddenly you had the question pop up in your head what the fuck you were doing here. You were not about to fuck Officer Greggs. Hell, you didn’t even want to. You wanted one man and one man only and if that did not work out then you at least wanted to spend the night with your colleagues having fun.

“I, uh, I’m gonna be right back,” you excused yourself, vaguely motioning to the direction of the bathroom, “Too many margaritas.”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on your lips and you took a few steps backwards before turning around and hurrying through the crowd. Okay, here was the plan: Make your way to the bathroom, catch your breath for a few minutes, then return to the team and casually convince them to switch to another bar and enjoy the evening and not make your desire for Hotch too obvious.

You were almost by the bathroom when someone stepped right in front of you. For the first split second, you thought it was a mistake. Someone crossing your path and simply not seeing you. But when they did not move, their chest right against yours, you looked up, ready to be offended.

But the words died on your tongue because it was not just anyone. It was Hotch.

He was looming over you, brows pulled together, lips in a straight line, and he did not look happy in the slightest. His fists were clenched, the veins stood out and you shifted much like Greggs earlier. Only now you were turned on.

“You are not going to fuck Officer Greggs.”

You hadn’t planned on it.

But there was something in his eyes that was just too tempting to play with.

“I’m not?” you asked instead, playing innocent.

“No,” he took a step closer, “You’re not.”

Your chest heaved and his eyes landed on your chest. For just the briefest of seconds, you could see his tongue dart out, smoothing over his lower lip and you wished he would just kiss you. You gulped. Shit, why didn’t he just kiss you?

Instead, he leaned ever closer, his breath washing over your face just as the scent of his cologne.  

“If you land in anyone’s bed tonight, it’s mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear and goosebumps erupting all over your skin. You knew he noticed when he ran a single finger down the back of your neck, his face lowering so his nose brushed over your neck. “If any man is going to fuck you, it is going to be me. Isn’t that right?”

You gasped, your heart racing in your chest.

“I asked you something,” he reminded you, his hand brushing over your ass, “Don’t you want to answer me?”

“Yes, sir,” the words tasted on your tongue like honey, “I – you’re right.”

“What am I right about?” he asked, “Be a good girl and use your words.”

Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself reaching out, your hand landing loosely on his hip. His belt. Before you knew what you were doing, one of your fingers hooked into his belt loops, tugging him closer.

“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” he said. And hearing him say it, his voice deep and satisfied, did things to you you would never ever admit when asked about. You squeezed your legs together, shuffling closer to him so your body was flush against his.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, his mouth brushing over your jaw. The dimmed light and the massive crowd kept you relatively sheltered but you were more than aware that your teammate – or Officer Greggs – could spot you at any moment.

And so, apparently, was Hotch.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your skin, “You are going outside. I will go to the team and say I saw you leaving with Greggs,” his voice dripped with venom at the other mas name, “And then I will excuse myself for the night. We will take a car back to the hotel and then I will fuck you so good the only word you can say is my name.”

Fuck, was this really happening?

“Understood?”

You nodded, swallowing heavily as you looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at you, dark eyes on yours and then he leant forward and kissed you. Hard.

His teeth clashed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and you felt hot and cold at the same time. Everything was tingling from your head to your tiptoes everything was screaming for him.

“I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” you admitted, completely out of breath, “Please, Hotch –“

“It’s Sir,” he corrected you sternly, “After I saw you flirting with that boy, it’s Sir.”  

“Yes, Sir,” the words slipped off your tongue too easily, “Please, I –“

“Patience,” he warned you, dropping a small kiss to the spot under your ear. It was a gesture that filled you with affection but there was something about the way his eyes did not meet yours when he pulled away that let you know that kiss was not only for you. You turned your head, following his gaze, and found Officer Greggs staring at you. There was a shadow of disappointment on his face before he turned away, acting like he had not seen you at all.

Hotch’s hand on your neck slipped down to your back, sitting low enough that his fingers could fan out over your butt.

“Alright,” he muttered, “Let’s go.”

*

If anyone had ever told you, that you would be sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Las Vegas, wearing the shortest dress you ever owned and waiting for Hotch to join you, you would have declared them insane. But that was exactly what you were doing now. You had slipped off your heels, sitting cross-legged against the giant pillows as he had paced through the room, switching his phone off, locking the door and putting out the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle. It might have been mundane acts by themselves but there was something about how he did it all with such precision, like he was taking care of everything before he could take care of you and it turned you on more than it should.

Your encounters in the past had all been very spontaneous, announcing themselves minutes before something happened between you two. This was different. You had had a whole car and elevator ride before you reached the bed and even now there were things to take care of. You had been scared that maybe it would be awkward, that you did not have anything to talk about.

But you were proven wrong because while there was silence between the two of you, it was not the uncomfortable kind. He had always touched you, subtle but reassuring. Hotch had had his hand on your bare knee for the entire ride, his fingers steadily brushing circles into your skin while he made small talk with the driver like it was the most natural thing in the world. In the elevator his hand had found its place on your upper back, not as but seeing as your skin was not covered by the dress there, it felt much more intimate.

And now he had prepared everything so you would remain undisturbed for the entire night which excited you more than words could describe. But it also terrified you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Hotch stood at the end of the bed, his eyes mustering you up and down. You were so nervous, you did not dare to move a muscle.

This was happening, this was really happening.

“Come here,” he said softly. It was not an instruction but you followed it as one, crawling to the end of the bed until you were kneeling up. Your heart was racing in your chest, the slick between your legs too prominent to ignore. And Hotch was right in front of you, mustering you with serious eyes.

“Do you remember what I told you in the car?” he checked in, his finger holding your chin, “If you want to stop –“

“Tap your thigh three times,” you finished his sentence.

“And the safe word?”

“Iceberg.”

His lips quirked up in a pleased smile as he tilted your chin up.

“Good girl,” he leant forwards, his lips meeting yours and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean completely into him.

His other hand cupped your cheek, keeping you in place as his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you hasped, feeling a shudder run through your entire body.

You could not stop the whine that escaped you when he pulled away from you but a stern look from him had you silent again. Silent and very very horny.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he said, almost conversationally as he unbuttoned his shirt. Your eyes fixated on his hands and how big they looked on the tiny buttons. Aaron Hotchner was not a small man. He was broad in an unexpected kind of way, solid. Not as defined muscles as Morgan was or as lithe as Reid, no. Aaron Hotchner was a category of his own.  

“Suck my cock under the desk, fuck you in that elevator, have you hump the corner of my desk till you come, the list goes on,” he continued while shrugging out of his dress shirt, leaving him only in the white undershirt, “haven’t really decided on one yet.”

You only noticed you were holding your breath when he approached you again. He tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “Maybe we should try them all out. What do you say? Want to be a little whore for me?”

“God please yes,” you gasped, your lips brushing over the pad of his thumb. He hummed, his finger pressing further into your mouth and he did not even need to say anything for your lips to close around his digit, swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking.

He hummed, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and you opened your mouth for him, trying to stick out your tongue so he could give you more. But he didn’t, instead pulling his thumb away, leaving a wet trail down to your chin where he gripped it.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled, his hands pulling you in again for a kiss. His mouth opened against yours and you opened yours for him, his tongue tangling with yours. He tasted of whiskey and that mint that Morgan had passed around. “We can go slow,” he said, his nose bumping against yours, “We have time.”

Something, some teeny tiny voice in your brain, piped up in doubt. You only have tonight to impress him, that voice squeaked, If you fail tonight, you will never have the chance again. Which was a ridiculous thought to have when he was towering over you, looking like he was about to devour you. And fuck, did you want to be devoured.

“First, I am going to have you suck my cock, I think,” he mused, “I feel like your mouth always needs something to suck on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, shuffling off the bed. His hand left your chin slowly, his knuckles brushing down your cleavage and belly before his arm fell to his side.

You watched as he sat on the side of the bed and he did not even have to say anything for you to sink to your knees. The carpet was soft on your skin. Still, he held up his jacket in a silent offering, his eyes warm and soft. He was taking care of you.

When you shook your head, the soft look disappeared again as he nodded in understanding. The jacket landed on the end of the bed and when he looked at you again, his eyes were dark, staring directly into your soul.

Being looked at like that made your breath come quicker and your pussy wetter. Especially, when he spread his legs so all you could see, all you could focus on, was the bulge right in front of your face.  

Like you said, Hotch wasn’t a small man by any means and there was something so sexy about him acting like he knew it. He knew he was big, he knew he was in charge and he knew what it did to you when he unzipped his pants and freed his cock.

“Patient,” he noted, clearly pleased, “Good girl.”

You smiled, his praise doing something with you. Something you were not ready to admit yet, even though it was already the running joke in the BAU that you wanted to impress him. (Not as your boss though, as most people presumed, but as the man that made you cry on his cock.)

“Here you go,” he said, his hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped it a few times. Drops of precome beaded at the tip, looking ready for you to lick them right off. If you focussed enough, you could already taste him. “Open wide.”

You did, opening your mouth as wide as you could, and sticking out your tongue. Hotch hummed, a deep sound from his chest. His tip landed on your tongue and you waited, frowning when he did not move. But then he did it again. And again.

He slapped his cock on your tongue a few times and you could feel the drool collecting on the tip of your tongue, threatening to trail down your chin. But you did not lose his gaze, did not move from your spot. Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re good for me,” he breathed, “So fucking good for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, his cock landing on your cheek instead. But Hotch didn’t seem to mind. His other hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer. You leaned forward as he wanted, closing your eyes when he lifted his cock onto your face. Heat rose into your cheeks when you realized what he was doing, his shaft measuring against your face. It made you feel filthy and a little embarrassed but also so incredibly turned on.

Your mouth was still open, your tongue and he was heavy against your face. You resisted the temptation to run your tongue along the underside. You wanted to be good for him.

“Go on,” he said, “Drool for me.”

With your mouth open and tongue out, it was impossible to make a sound and yet, you managed to produce the tiniest whimper. You could feel the drop forming before it landed on your chin trailing down before you could feel it between your tits.

You froze, wondering if it was enough for him, if you should wait a little longer, if you could wait a little longer before you were getting too desperate. His cock disappeared before finally pushing on your tongue and inside your mouth.

You took a deep breath then, noting how he already pushed himself to the back of your throat. His thrusts were slow and measured but also testing clearly your limits. There was nothing careful or shallow about his movements, like he knew exactly how much you could take, how much he wanted you to take. And you knew you would take however much he wanted from you.

He was heavy on your tongue and tasted salty. You managed to swallow around him once, your throat already protesting. You gagged around him, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried to regain your composure because damn you if you weren’t going to try your best.

Hotch paused his movements, his cock halfway down your throat. His brows were pulled together and he looked at you, clearly trying to see whether you wanted to take the chance to tap his thighs.

You relaxed your throat, making it a point to meet his gaze.

 “Are those pretty tears for me?” he asked softly, his free hand brushing over your cheeks, “And I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

Fuck.

“You good?”

“Hngh,” you tried to nod, forcing yourself to swallow around him. He tilted his head back, a groan leaving his throat and you could see his jugular move. You swallowed around him again in a desperate attempt to see him lose composure like that again. His hips twitched, moving even farther inside you and you gagged. Hotch paused but did not pull away.

“You can take it,” he said sternly, “I know you can.”

You remained silent, trying to convey that you knew with your eyes. Your jaw was aching already and your pussy wept. His hips began to move more and more, his large hand on the back of your head pushing and pulling you this and that way. You relaxed, letting him use you like a toy (and why did that turn you on as much as it did?), occasionally running your tongue over the underside of his cock.

He was silent, not saying much but you could feel his eyes on you. You glanced upwards, finding him looking down at you, almost as if he was assessing you. Like he was determining whether you did a good job or not and that, embarrassing as it was, made you even wetter.

There was that furrow between his brows again and his lips were pressed tightly together. If you did not know any better, you would have suspected him to be displeased, but you did know better. Because his cock was twitching on your tongue and his chest rumbled.

You leant forward again, your nose almost touching his belly. Almost.

Frustration grew in you and you pulled away.

But before you could pull off completely, his hand on your head stopped you. “You can take me deeper,” he stated. It wasn’t a question but you knew he gave the pause to give the option to say no.

You did not say anything.

His hand pushed you down on his crotch, his cock reaching impossibly deep and you gagged. You did not pull away this time and he did not let you. Rather, you made an effort to breathe through your nose, to focus on the weight of him on your tongue.

Your hands twitched with the knowledge that you could tap his thigh anytime. Yet you chose not to. Your nose touched his belly, his cock too large to let you smile in triumph.

Then, his other hand reached around your front and he leant forward. At first, you thought he was cupping your jaw or something to try and get you to open wider. But his hand went lower. To your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock when his big hand closed around your throat, not cutting off any air but still tight enough to feel his pressure. And enough to feel the bulge he formed in your throat.

He groaned.

“I could jerk myself off just like that,” he commented, sounding way too unaffected for your liking, “And you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

You made a sound at the back of your throat, feeling the movement protest against the grip his hand had on you.

The power he held over you had you squeezing your thighs.

“I am not coming down your throat,” he said, his thumb rubbing over the tip of him, “Not this time.”

With that, he pulled away from you, his hand on the back of your head gently pulling you back. Immediately, you gasped for breath, trying to even your breathing while not taking your eyes off him.

Hotch stood up, a twinkle in his eyes when he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. “Get up on the bed,” he instructed, “Lose the clothes.”

At record speed, you slipped out of the dress and out of your underwear. Catching a glimpse of the wet patch on your panties, you forced yourself not to be ashamed of it. By now, it was a safe bet to assume that he knew the kind of effect he had on you.

The sheets felt cool and soft under your skin and you sat down and scooted back. Hotch eyed you like prey, your heart skipping a beat when you watched as he wrapped his hand around himself again, pumping while you got comfortable.

When your back settled against the pillows, he moved too.

“Good girl,” he murmured before leaning forward and climbing onto the bed.

You laid back, allowing him to come to rest above you. His breath fanned over your crotch and your belly, his lips ghosting over the valley between your breasts and up your throat until they met yours.

You hummed, trying to get up on your elbows to get closer to him. His lips were soft but dominant, his hand brushing over your cheek before settling right under your jaw.

The man above you sat up, straddling your hips. His hand was around your throat, loosely wrapped around and you smiled, already knowing what. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue and being rewarded by the dark smile on his lips.

“Such a good little whore,” he groaned before he spit right into your mouth, “Such a good little cocksleeve.”

Swallowing greedily, you opened your mouth again, showing him that nothing was left.

The feeling of his cock against your folds was what made your composure break. Pleasure was flowing through your every vein and you could feel your pussy pulse, feeling way too empty with him rubbing his tip over your clit.

“Sir, please,” you whined, trying to thrust your hips up, wanting to get just that little bit of friction more, “I – I need it.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it is that you need,” he stated when he slowly pushed forward, his cock splitting your walls, “You need me to work my cock in that tight pussy of yours and then fill you up until you are nothing but dripping in my come.”

You took a deep breath, relishing in the stretch he caused and the feelings of your walls opening up for him. And his words did the rest. You were so wet,

Angling up your knees, you wrapped your legs around his broad hips. It allowed him to push even deeper and you both moaned. Your thighs were already aching but your pussy fluttered around how full you were.

He began to move, slow at first before he found his bearings. His forearms caged in your head and he was right above you, surrounding you so completely while his cock pushed deeper and deeper. All you could see, all you could smell, all you could feel, was him.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed, your fingertips running over his jaw, “Please come in me.”

“Good girl,” he chuckled, a little out of breath, his lips pressing against your temple, “Making such smart choices today.”

Not having the time to think about what he could possibly mean, you tilted your head back, allowing him to press a slow kiss to your neck. It was warm and wet and made your entire body shiver.

“Anytime you make a smart choice, I reward you, how does that sound?”

You could not answer, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Already too cockdumb for me, I see,” he murmured, his teeth scratching over your skin, “But that’s okay because this? This is a reward. You were such a smart girl today, not letting Greggs fuck you. Because you know only I can fuck you right, right?”

You whimpered, your hardened nipples brushing against the fabric of his shirt and you arched your back, trying to get him to be closer, deeper, faster.

His hips snapped against you, pinning yours to the mattress and you gasped at how deep he went. The weight of his body on yours meant you could not move, entirely at his mercy. Your walls clamped around him, the knot in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter with the feeling of his cock moving and his quiet groans in your ear.

“Next time you’re being a good girl for me, I will fill you up on the jet,” he hissed, “I will have you sit on my cock before we’re even in the air and you only get to come once we’re back on land. I don’t care what the others will think,” his fingers snuck to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves just how you needed it, “Let’s hope it won’t be Alaska or I will have an overstimulated mess sobbing on my cock.”

You gasped, hands flexing on his shoulders. Images filled your head. Of you, wearing one of your cutest office dresses that had the perfect length to conceal how he was buried inside you. Or how he would just so casually reach over to your seat, between your thighs, working your clit until you left a wet mess on the leather seat. The thought turned you on more than it should, the urge to keep quiet so you would not get caught being fucked by your boss.

And Hotch could sense what you were thinking. “Looks like someone likes that idea,” he mocked you, “Your pussy practically choked me. Are you that desperate for the cock of an old man? Of your boss? You really just want to be filled up every chance you have, hm?”

You nodded, eyes tearing up at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasped out, trying to move your hips against him, though you knew it was an impossible feat, “Wanna – wanna be your whore so bad.”

“You already are,” he cooed, kissing you swiftly while his hips moved against yours again and again, “And you can be my good girl too if you come on my cock right now.”

Aaron Hotchner had to be a magician because there was no other explanation for how your body just listened to him. Every single muscle you were aware of tensed as the knot in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter before it felt like it was pulled apart, pleasure erupting everywhere. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your moan and breathing in his familiar scent.

Hotch did not slow his pace. His cock kept working in and out of you, driving you to the edge of madness. With you coming around him, you became even more aware of how big he was inside you. It was like he was pushing the air out of your lungs and you gasped, trying to gather your bearings when all you could feel was

He panted, his movements picking up in speed and you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him inside you until he stilled. The deep groan he let out rumbled in his chest and you could feel it, feel it in the way he was pressed right up against you, feel it in the way his head sunk into the crook of your neck, feel it in the way, his entire body rested on yours.

There was something about feeling his come pump inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and feeling so full of him, that struck you with the sudden realization that you would really let this man do anything to you. The trust you had in him, in the way he would take care of you, would not be so easily broken.

Which meant your heart was that much more breakable.

Your body calmed down, feeling completely weightless even with him on top of you. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him shift, rolling you both around until you were on top of him. His cock was still inside you plugging you up and you smiled when you felt him draw lined over your back.

“That okay?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbly, “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head before resting your cheek on his chest. “Just this,” you murmured, “Just this please.”

“Good girl,” he praised you with a gentle smile, kissing the top of your head, “Rest, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

*

“What is it?” you shot up in bed, panic and adrenaline pumping through your blood. It took you a moment to remember that you were not supposed to be alone in this room and that the figure moving next to you was none other than Aaron. He was safe. He was supposed to be here.

Ears ringing, you threw a look on your side of the bed, trying to find if your phone was lit up because there was another case.

Please not, ran through our brain, Please let me have him this close just for a little longer.

But it was not your phone that was ringing.

“Shit, sorry,” you could hear Hotch rise in the dark, his body twisting the blanket this and that way as he leaned over to his night table. Something clattered and you could see a brightly lit display before it disappeared behind Hotch’s profile.

“Hey, buddy!”

You blinked.

“Yeah, we got the bad guy,” his voice was oddly soft, “Did Aunt Jess take to the – she did? That is awesome, you will have to tell me all about it.”

When you realized he was talking to his son (you tried to blame the very late/early time for this), your heart melted. The way his voice was deep and groggy but you could hear the love in it, the affection. There were only a handful of times you had heard him talk like that and they had all been when he was talking to or about Jack.

Before you knew it, he had hung up, his phone screen going dark and your body instantly yearning back for that deep slumber you had just been in.

“Sorry, I usually have it on loud to make sure I wake up. “ To make sure I don’t miss his calls.

“No worries, it’s … it's actually quite sweet,” you mumbled, glad for the darkness so he could not see just how affected you were.

“Sweet?” he echoed and you didn’t need to see him to know he was grinning, “I was expecting a lot of adjectives but not sweet.”

“It’s the dichotomy of man,” you replied groggily, very aware of the heat of his body right next to you, “Stern Hotch and Sweet Hotch.”

His hand found yours in the dark and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled it up to his lips. It felt way too intimate but it felt right. Maybe because it was dark it felt like you could allow yourself to enjoy the closeness. Like you could pretend you were living in some alternate universe where he was

“You’ve only seen stern Hotch, then, I presume,” he joked.

“Sexy Hotchner and stern Hotchner,” you added, pulling your hand back to your chest and thus his arm around you as you settled on your side, “Work Hotchner and Bed Hotchner.”

“Then maybe it is time you get to see Sweet Hotchner,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing over your shoulder. Your hand tightened around his and you snuggled back into him, thinking that any embarrassment that might ensue from this intimate embrace could be a problem for future you.

“How do I get to meet Sweet Hotchner?” you yawned, barely awake, “Do I have to ask Jack for some tips?”

“That or you could go on a date with me,” he said, his voice just as groggy, “I heard I am supposed to be my most charming self when on a date.”

Yup, definitely a problem for future you.

[makelemonade]

He loves me, he loves me not.

🦋Relations: Ayato and Alhaitham x F!Reader (separate ofc) ASSUMED Ayato x Sara and Alhaitham x Dehya

🦋Summary: Your lover has been neglecting you a full month; hardly even coming home and always working. You start to overhear about his recent involvement with another girl and you can’t help but wonder, does he still love you?

‼️Warnings: She/her pronouns used (only like 5 times in total, endearments of pretty girl, baby and my love are used, insecurities are mentioned a lot, along with body insecurity (body dysmorphia?), thoughts of cheating, mention of a dick once (don’t think anyone cares cuz it’s daddy Alhaitham, ANGST- should be obvious, THERE IS COMFORT THOUGH! LOTS OF IT! bestie Diluc is mentioned along with Tighnari, jealousy, lots of crying, not proofread, can’t think of anything else

🦋Author Note: Alhaitham’s is a lot longer than Ayato’s I think we can tell who the favourite is. I’ll write Cyno and Tighnari next then link it here!

support me on kofi and read my other fics! all on pinned post !!!! (guys if u love Alhaitham go check out my wattpad I got a new Alhaitham x reader fic 😻)

Ayato

Sometimes, you felt like this marriage was a mistake.

Not felt actually, knew. It was an arranged marriage after all. The two of you had gotten to know each other just before the marriage, and you both did indeed have feelings for each other and even ended up falling in love during the arrangement. 

So, in your mind, it was a real marriage. Perhaps to his it was just an arranged one. 

You spent your days in bed alone, a cold spot beside you always. Even when you woke up, he was never there. 

Your parents weren’t as rich as the Kamisatos or popular, but due to the fact the Kojou clan denied the arrangement since Sara wasn’t ready for marriage. Your clan was second choice.

Maybe you were second choice in his life too.

You never felt good enough for him, barely ever speaking on how he was hardly here because you felt like you were in no position to speak up about it. He worked so hard for his family, and his clan represented so much in Inazuma it was a lot of work. Meanwhile your parents did most the work, but your clan was hardly known. It just proved how much better he was than you. 

Even after a year of your….marriage, you still felt the same. During the first few months you were both so close, spending nights giggling as he’d cuddle you while slightly tickling you just to piss you off. You don’t even see him anymore.

You started hearing workers around the estate talk about him and Kojou Sara. She was originally the first choice, and you felt like maybe he was going back to her. 

“They’re so much better together!”

“Never really thought him and Y/N’s clan were a good go.”

“She’s not a good choice for Ayato at all. I hope he finally comes to his senses and chooses Sara.”

“I heard they’ve been together a lot this past month, so he must be going back to her!”

She was always the first choice. 

When you heard the conversation between the workers, you ran into the hall leading to your room. 

“Y/N?” Ayaka realized, worry laced in her tone as you bumped into her, tears streaming down your face.

“Apologies.” You murmured, not even sparing her a look as you continued down the hall to your room, quickly closed the door so she couldn’t come and ask questions. 

You walked over to your desk, tears falling onto the hard wood of the desk as you grabbed a paper, finding a pen hurriedly.

When Thoma had taken you to his homeland once, you met a very nice man who you considered had very amazing advice. His name was Diluc, and ever since you visited, you’ve been constantly sending him letters- that being the way the two of you would communicate.

Dear Diluc, 

You started writing, hoping he wouldn’t mind the tears that would be dry by the time he received this letter. You wrote all about your marriage troubles- how in the last month Ayato has hardly spoken to you, taking up more hours at work, and spending more time with another woman. You wrote down your suspicions he was probably in love with Sara, seeing as she was originally the first choice.

Part of you didn’t understand why you were so shocked because well, why not her? The workers were right, she was so much better that you in many ways; a better fighter, a harder worker, a better clan- a better everything. 

When you read over the letter, you couldn’t help yourself from crying even more, fay tears rolling down your cheeks like an endless waterfall. You pushed the paper to the side, not wanting your tears to mess up the ink and your head fell onto the table as all you did was sob into your arms.

Your sobs turned into quiet whimpers until you felt no more motivation to continue crying, falling asleep right on the table. 

~~

When Ayato overheard what was seen of you from Ayaka, he rushed home as constant questions plagued his mind.

This was the first time he had ever left work only- it being almost 7pm, the sun starting to go down. He expected to find you on the bed, perhaps napping or crying into the pillows but no, he saw you with your head down on the table.

He walked up to you slowly, putting his hands on your shoulders and giving you a shake. He heard a slight snore and realized you were asleep, immediately removing his hands.

His eyes caught dried tears on a piece of paper and he picked it up, starting to read over it all.

At the end, he’d taken your old spot as he himself started to cry at the words you’d written; how you felt like a nobody compared to him, how he could do so much better and that he was probably in love with Kojou Sara.

That last part was what shocked him most. No! He was in love with you and only you’ he’ll admit, he has been with her a lot, but it was strictly for work! It’s been crazy with the end of the vision hunt degree, leaving the two clans in charge after Sara’s father was removed.

He read it over again, seeing how you wrote constantly “second choice” all over again.

In reality, the Kojou clan was originally his parents choice and was forced to ask them first. He always wanted to ask you first, because he had met you before and found you as the most gorgeous and outgoing girl he’s ever seen. 

He looked back at you, one of his tears falling atop your head. Why didn’t you tell him any of this?! He would’ve loved to resssure you that you were the love of his life, the girl he’d always dreamed of. Sure, he hasn’t been here for a while- oh.

He dragged his hand down his face, realizing why you didn’t say anything; because he was never here. 

“I’m so sorry, my love.” he whispered, wrapping  one of his arms behind your back and on under your legs as he picked you up, taking you towards the bed and placing you down gently.

You started to stir awake when you felt his arms wrap around you. “‘Yato?” You called, barely above a whisper.

He shushed you, placing a kiss to where your shoulder met your neck as he snuggled closer to you. “I’m here now, my love. I promise I’ll always be here. Now go sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll be here forever and always. I love you so much, more than words can say.”

It was gonna be a long talk once the two of you woke up, but either way, you felt a lot warmer that night. 

Alhaitham 

You and Alhaitham weren’t engaged or married, only being together for a year and a half now.

So probably understandable why he was probably losing feelings for you? Right? Right?

“Hey, Kaveh.” You said, sitting in the kitchen of your shared home with Kaveh and Alhaitham.

“You look drained, Y/N. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.”

That was a lie and a big fat one at that. You weren’t okay whatsoever.

Recently, in the last month, Alhaitham had barely come back home and you’ve hardly gotten the chance to see him. There was no more good morning or good night kisses, little dates in between work or work visits. There was none of that.

Now it was just waking up to a cold, empty spot in your bed.

Kaveh could read you like an open book. He’s noticed the lack of affection and attention you’ve gotten from Alhaitham, and despite the fact he despised the man, he also cared for him and his significant other and noticed everything.

He just hoped his and yours suspicions wouldn’t come true; that he had fallen out of love and was possibly cheating.

The latter was what scared him the most with how recently Alhaitham has been with Dehya. He came back after a week of being away to the Grand Azar being removed along with half the workers in the Akademiya, to Alhaitham and Dehya now best friends. The fuck happens when he isn’t here?!

He’s seen how close the two are during his times being in the Akademiya and he prayed to Kusanali that the worst wasn’t going to happen.

You knew about Dehya; you’ve heard about it all over Sumeru. How she was a perfect fighter, a desert bloom, perfect both and image for all eremites.

You were jealous, and a tad bit insecure. She was perfect in so many ways; popular, appreciated, constantly complimented. Her body was perfect along with her hair and voice. 

Your hair had uneven ends and you didn’t consider your body to be perfect.

No wonder Alhaitham would go for someone like her.

“Why don’t you go see Alhaitham?” Kaveh asked before he quickly got a large brown paper bag that was somehow filled with lunch and came out of nowhere. “Bring him lunch!”

It was his one attempt at getting you guys back to how you used to be.

You hoped it would work as Kaveh walked you to the Akademiya, and the whole time you were scared as your heart would drop with each step. 

“Tell me where you find him, I need to talk to him about some work.” Kaveh said before leaving to talk to a scholar once the two of you arrived at the Akademiya. 

You checked the library and there was no sign of him, even going to the outdoor areas since you knew how much he liked reading outdoors. You eventually asked a scholar who had pointed you in direction of his office and you felt your heart drop again.

You opened the doors slightly, hoping your lover would be happy to see you. 

But what you came in to see was a Dehya standing right beside him as he wrote on a piece of paper, sitting on a chair at his office desk. 

You felt your heart break a little when he didn’t even notice you walked in.

He only noticed when he heard the click of the door close behind you, the both of them looking up to see you with confusion on their faces.

The way Dehya stood so close to him with her toned and perfect body made your breath quicken in panic.

“Y/N?” Alhaitham spoke in confusion, halting his movement of writing on the paper. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring you lunch.” You spoke so quietly that it was almost a whisper that the two couldn’t hear.

“Oh.” He blinked as you put the bag on his desk, a fake smile plastered on your face that even though he was your lover, he couldn’t tell how forced it was. “Thank you.”

That was all he said before he looked back at Dehya, continuing to talk about eremites in the desert.

You felt your heart break into a million pieces and you slowly turned to leave. They broke into a million more when he didn’t even say goodbye or notice your departure. 

You closed the door quietly and ran once it closed, tears streaming down your tears as you rushed to get out of the Akademiya. 

Although, in the library, you heard a mention of his name and had to stop just to listen. 

“Have you seen the Scribe and Dehya lately? I heard they’re together.” 

“Really? What about Y/N? Did they break up?”

“Probably. Alhaitham is far better off with Dehya either way, not Y/N.”

You felt more tears stream down your face, not bringing yourself to move as you kept listening to the disgusting things they said about you. 

The only thing that brought you out of it was a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to see Kaveh staring at you, concern all over his face as his hand moved up from your shoulder to wipe your tears.

You let out a loud sniff, shoving his hand away before speaking. “He’s in his office, if you’re still looking for him.”

Before he could speak, you ran off, leaving the library and soon leaving the Akademiya.

Kaveh glared at Alhaitham’s office doors. Sure, he lost most of his arguments to Alhaitham, but this one he was gonna win as he marched his way into the office, forcing Dehya out before he started yelling at the grey-haired man.

~~

You couldn’t stay in Sumeru anymore. That was it.

You had been completely humiliated in front of Dehya, Kaveh and now the entire Akademiya knows that Dehya is so much better off for Alhaitham. 

Maybe being a forest ranger wasn’t too bad. It would mean hardly being in the main city and you wouldn’t have to see Alhaitham. 

You were actually thinking about it as you started writing a letter addressed to Tighnari at the edge of your bed, but halfway through when you realized what you were doing and why, you started violently sobbing as you fell to your knees, the letter scrunched up on the ground beside you as you sobbed into the softness of the edge of the bed.

You didn’t even hear the door open.

When Kaveh came in screaming at Alhaitham, it certainly shocked him and Dehya. He had even gone as far to yell at Dehya to get out of the office and she did, running out.

He went on and on about how you were and with each word, Alhaitham’s heart started to break. 

He hadn’t even realized how much he’d been neglecting you until Kaveh had to voice it out for you. He’s been so busy with work and choosing a new grand sage that he’s practically been ignoring you and treating you like a stranger.

When Kaveh said the sentence “at this point, Y/N would be a lot better with me since you can’t be a good boyfriend!” Alhaitham stormed out of the office, making his way straight home with no stops. 

You were his and his only and fuck no were you ever going to be Kaveh’s. He loved you, WAY more than Kaveh ever will. 

But it seemed like Kaveh loved you more than he did in the last month and he hated every part of himself for it. 

When he got home, he heard your violent sobs and started rushing to your shared room, his heart breaking once more at the sight of you.

He went down on his knees and wrapping his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest with his arms wrapped around your waist as you shook with sobs in his arms.

“Haitham?”

“I’m so sorry.” He spoke, his head resting against your shoulder as his own tears came out. “I’m so fucking sorry. You didn’t deserve what I did to you this past month, and I understand if you’re mad and want to leave me. Words can’t express how sorry I am, but I promise I will take the next few weeks off. Even if they tell me no, I’ll go against them and stay with you. My sweet, pretty girl, I love you- so so so much and a LOT more than Kaveh. You’re perfect, so so so perfect for me. Perfect face, eyes, mouth-“

He paused to press kisses all over your cheek, making you giggle through your cries and bringing a smile to your face. “My lips love you. My hands love you. I’ll go as far to say my dick loves you. Everything about me loves you. You’re perfect for me- everything about you is perfect for me. Screw anyone else, I just want you baby.” 

The next hour went by with him saying constant reassurances while kissing you all over. He had even ripped apart the letter you wrote for Tighnari, saying you’ll never leave his side and certainly won’t work for another man where he can’t even see you.

He held you close that night, making sure you were warm after all the cold nights. 

[sunderwight]

had a thought of what if Airplane had leaned a little more into the self-insert idea for Luo Binghe when he was still at the early stages of writing, with an end result that Luo Binghe actually Looks Like That because he basically looks like Airplane but with long flowing hair and a more idealized figure

SQQ going "why the fuck did you make his face so pretty???" and Airplane bullshitting about plausibility while trying really hard not to blush. twisting his fingers and scuffing his toe like jeez bro he's not that good-looking...

which of course sets SQQ off because how DARE!?! not 'that' good-looking?!?! just look at him! he's xianxia Helen of Troy with a face that launched a thousand harems! like okay sure with looks like that it does make sense that half the female population was willing to timeshare a marriage with him, but it's also totally unfair to SQQ, who has no recourse against those looks either! and who could? that is the most beautiful face ever!

Airplane's getting flustered. tries valiantly to make the case that objectively speaking Luo Binghe isn't that good-looking, it's just that SQQ is biased, but boy does that not go over well. SQQ has hitched the tattered remnants of his self-perception as a straight man onto the idea that Luo Binghe is just so devastatingly attractive anyone would want to hop into bed with him, and he is not letting go of it, so Airplane is just gonna get wrecked with inadvertent compliments

bonus if the Shang Qinghua look is actually the result of several illusions because when Airplane first transmigrated in, he got the same face too, and foresaw potential problems if the half-demon protagonist turned up looking like him. so he used illusions. he doesn't actually look all that different, in fact! the illusions just make it so that when people see him, they get a strong impression that he's unremarkable, so they don't really register what his face actually looks like and their brains fill in the assumption that he must just be kinda plain

oooh ooh double bonus if the system inserted a behind-the-scenes explanation for it too, which is that Shang Qinghua is actually unwittingly related to Su Xiyan!

and the whole thing comes to light post-epilogue when Shang Qinghua's illusions get stripped away by some monster-of-the-week, while everyone except Mobei Jun has a freak out about why do you look just like Luo Binghe?! (Mobei Jun isn't freaking out because he already figured out how to see past the illusions and just assumed everyone else wasn't mentioning it for some human cultural reason or something) and then Yue Qingyuan calmly explains that Luo Binghe's mom is Shang Qinghua's matrilineal cousin. Shang Qinghua's mother and Luo Binghe's human grandmother were half-sisters.

what? how does Yue Qingyuan know? you think that Cang Qiong doesn't check up on the candidates for the peak lord positions before handing off power, doesn't make sure there are no conflicts of interest or divided loyalties to other sects? what sorts of things do people imagine Qiong Ding's diplomats do? (I don't know either but, for the purpose of this scenario at least some of it is tracking down this stuff -- YQY handled most of it personally for his generation's ascension because he didn't want anyone else digging into his and Xiao Jiu's pasts) anyways, the connection could have been troublesome for its ties to Huan Hua Palace, but by the time it came to light Su Xiyan was deceased and there was no evidence that Shang Qinghua had ever even met her. so it wasn't deemed significant enough to matter, was just made note of and then mostly forgotten

so Shang Qinghua is like "oh THAT is why you kept bringing her up to me back then?!" because at the time he'd just been fully in "haha how would I know anything about the impending plot and the tragedies I am both partly responsible for and powerless to prevent haha that's so funny shixiong I KNOW NOTHING" mode, which luckily at the time was easily read as him just not wanting a dead cousin he never met to tank his chances of securing a promotion

SQQ is floored. he is having issues about this. Shang Qinghua is related to Binghe? Shang Qinghua looks exactly like him?! wait. Binghe has human family? still alive? like grandparents and stuff out there, who might want to meet him...?

Luo Binghe decides to step in at that point because he does not want to meet any more relatives! no more surprise relatives! no!

luckily this distracts Shen Qingqiu from thinking about all of the things he's said to Airplane about Binghe's looks for long enough for Shang Qinghua to flee the scene

[johnnys-breastmilk]

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

[azurlily]

i saw that request for resident lover is open soo... may i ask for some cassandra smut? i NEED this woman her way with me

Yall are down bad, but I am too so no worries. I fully intend to write smut for Alcina and Miranda later. If anyone would like to request a special kind of smut with them, I'd be more than happy to write it. - L and W

I also have a dark one-shot(maybe more) for Cassandra's BAD end. I'm so down bad for scary Cass, and I think her turning to the dark side, but still loving you is perfect. - L

THIS HAS NOT BEEN SPELL CHECKED! Made by Lune and Wora.

"Cassie, I know you said you had some big birthday gift for me, but considering we're not in the theater and instead in your room, I'm slightly worried..."

You heard rustling around the room, and you hear a loud and pretentious scoff. You smirk, knowing you've offended your girlfriend in some way.

"I'll have you know that my entire life doesn't revolve around theater. It revolves around you; you're my world. As for your gift, if you don't like this, I don't know what you'll like!"

You can hear the cheery happiness in her tone; she's more excited about this than you were.

Previously, Cassandra had told you she was doing something a bit different for your birthday. All you had to do was stand in the bedroom and wait. With your eyes closed of course!

You make a snarky remark back and based upon the fact that Cassandra doesn't answer you assume she's ignoring you. You continue to hear rustling and even some groaning on her part. What could she possibly be doing?

"Alright, you're allowed to look!"

You smile and open your eyes only to see something that's absolutely engraved into your mind and while stay there until the say you die.

Cassandra is wearing a lacy red and black lingerie set. The base itself is black, while the design is a crimson red, adorning Cassie's skin elegantly. Cassandra can make just about anything look good, and she's proving that right now. Cassie has her arms behind her back and the most lovestruck and mischievous look on her face.

She looks like she's going to eat you, and you would let her. In the state you're in right now, you'd let that woman do anything to you. And you'd thank her for all of it.

You stare so hard that Cassandra begins to blush bashfully. You haven't spoken a word, and at first, Cassandra worried that you didn't like it. That was until she saw the awestruck look in your eyes. You're mentally preparing yourself.

"Are you just going to sit there, my star? If so, I just might have to take care of myself if you won't... And to think I was going to let you top tonight, what a shame."

That snapped you out of it quickly, you look up at her like a love sick puppy and shake your head.

"No, no, no, I-I want to take care of you Cassie. I want to-"

You're cut off with a finger to your lips. Cassandra pulls her finger away and leans down, she gently kisses you on the lips. It felt amazing, you two had kissed many times, but this? This was different in some way, some way you couldn't properly explain. Nor did you want to.

Explaining would mean you'd have to start thinking, and you didn't want to do that. You wanted to become a girl shaped pile of mush that let Cassandra do whatever she pleased to her.

The taste of Cassandra's lips were intoxicating; espresso and chocolate. They melded so well together, and being able to taste them on your girlfriends lips made them taste even better together.

Cassandra pulls from you with a devious look on her face.

"I guess you can try to top me next year, star. After seeing the look on your face-"

Cassandra's voice gets lower, her eyes darken and she shifts your chin so your looking her in the eyes.

"-I fully intend to take good care of you and your body. Now l hope those clothes aren't important because I will be ripping them off."

Cassandra quickly mumbles something about buying you more later before grabbing your shirt and making good on her words. She rips your shirt in two. She almost did the same to your shorts, but you talked her into letting you strip.

Of course, Cassandra being the impatient person she is, once you were down to just your bra, she grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed. The look in her eyes made you wonder if you were going to survive the night.

"Hands on the headboard, you know the deal."

Her voice change sent shivers down your spine. The usually velvety smooth voice has gotten dark, rough. Cassandra not only looked at you like she was going to eat you, she sounded like she was too.

Cassandra's hands begin to explore, one on your stomach kneading and pressing her hand into it. The other playing with your chest, she runs her fingers over your nipples softly before giving them a hard pinch.

You yelp and she laughs melodiously, it sounds so sweet. You'd revel in the sound of her voice more, but what her hands are doing is far more important.

The hand that was previously on your stomach has found it's way into your underwear. Cassandra has a finger pressed against your puffy clit, and the rest of her fingers are cupping your pussy.

Feeling her touch your bundle of nerves, you buck into her hand. That results in a harsh slap to your thigh. You whimper, but otherwise keep quiet.

You know what you want, she knows what you want. You hoped that it was only a matter if time before you got it, but that was for her to decide.

Cassandra pulls rips your panties off of you and spreads your legs. She wants you on full display, she wants to see the embarrassment on your face knowing she got herself all dolled up for you.

But you don't get to touch her, meanwhile she can rip your clothes off and treat you how you deserve to be treated. Cassandra looks at your face, you look absolutely debauched.

"Mercy is a wonderful thing, my star."

Cassandra dips her head down between your thighs, she uses two fingers to spread your folds apart and begins sucking on your clit.

You whine loudly and squirm, you begin moving too much for Cassandra's liking so she grabs you by your thighs and all but presses you into her.

Cassandra mounts both your legs onto her shoulders. The look in her eyes isn't one of love, it's pure lust.

Cassandra moves one of her hands down onto your cunt, she presses two fingers into you. You're already so fucking wet, these will surely fit. And she's right, they practically slide in, god you wanted this.

Cassandra enjoys it for a moment, getting onto a rythm of sucking on your clit and pumping two fingers inside you at the same time.

Meanwhile you whined, at first you were begging- for what you did not know, but now you're spouting unintelligible words that you aren't sure go together.

Cassandra's tounge always brings you to the edge the fastest, and paired with her fingers and the lingerie. You were bound to have quite the fun night. Because you've learned the hard way that Cassandra enjoys forcing one orgasm after the other.

She enjoys seeing the dumb and fuck out look on your face when shes done. The tear stained cheeks and the bite marks and throbbing hickeys all turn her on in a way she doesn't understand.

Cassandra can feel you tightening around her fingers. She stops sucking on your clit and begins sucking your tits. Meanwhile, the other hand holds onto your thigh. Cassandra lets go and presses against your stomach, gently applying pressure.

Cassandra breaks away from your tits, deciding to stake her claim elsewhere. She moves to your neck and begins sucking small hickeys before getting impatient and biting down.

"C-Cassie! A-ah, oh fuck-"

"You can pull your hands down, and I won't make you beg to cum. Although that is one of my favorite activities..."

You wrap your arms around her back and dig your nails into her skin. Your body is melting; it has to be. This is too much all at once, and yet you just want more and more.

"Ah-fuck... my star. That's it press against me as much you n-need."

Cassandra talks you through your orgasm and you whimper and whine the entire time. It's just so much, and as good as this feels you know this isn't even close to the end.

As you ride out the last of your orgasmic bliss, you feel Cassandra pull her hands away. When you open your eyes you see shes moved off the bed and is standing there with a dark red strap.

"You're choice star, either you sit on my face and I eat you until you see stars...or I rail you over the bed. Both will be happening, but you get to choose which one first!"

Cassandra had that charismatic look in her eyes, the one that held darkness and need. A need you could fill so very easily.

"So what will it be, little star?"

I regret being a co-writer to this monstrosity. - W

Anyway we hope yall like this to some extent. Also of course if you haven't played Resident Lover(a free sapphic game based off of Resident Evil: Village) you definitely should. The people that made such an amazing game are @resident-lover .

[tragedy-for-sale]

Bedrock Headcannons: Obi-Wan Kenobi

Bedrock headcannons are headcannons that I regard as a fact in the personality of a character I write about. They range from small details to a huge part of a character's backstory. These headcannons are a constant underlayer in all of my fics that involve these characters.

﹄『❝ Obi-Wan ❞』﹃

He cut his hair shortly after the war begun because Anakin made a comment he looked like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan couldn't handle it.

Obi-Wan is very quiet and not just in the sense of him not talking a whole lot. But his steps, the swoosh of his robe, the smile in his eyes. He moves with grace which results in many people being taken off guard when he's in the room, as if he just appears. But he's also quiet in the way that you'd never know he was crying if you couldn't see his face, quiet in the way of showing love through always having snacks on him for Anakin, Ahsoka or any of his men. Whoever asks him first. He's quiet in pain and agony, in love and passion.

Obi-Wan feels extremely bittersweet about Dooku. He remembered how highly Qui-Gon regarded him, how they'd go catch up at a diner and how Obi-Wan always begged to go. He never knew the Dooku that Qui-Gon did and Obi-Wan has a hard time understanding how his master was trained by someone so vile. Everytime he faces the Count, he remembers Qui-Gon, and he remembers how much his master cared for this man that is trying to kill him.

He loves Coruscant in the rain. When he was younger, Qui-Gon would take him up to the roof of the temple and they'd talk until they could see stars. But if it was raining, they'd be outside splashing each other until they were soaked.

He doesn't go up there as often anymore, but the first year after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan was missing all day. It was Quinlan Vos who found him, he was the only person still alive that knew about his hiding place.

Obi-Wan's 18th birthday was spent out on the streets of Coruscant. He snuck out with Quinlan Vos and Kit Fisto. The three ran into trouble and at the stroke of midnight, Obi-Wan was in tears, desperately hoping his friends would find him.

He was sent to Mandalore with Qui-Gon soon after.

Obi-Wan will go get tea with Padme when Anakin is still out in space. He doesn't say he checks on Padme to Anakin, but he'll say he caught Padme and they chatted for a while and that she's doing well.

During down time, he wears heavy robes because Obi-Wan is cold all the time. Especially when on the Negotiatior. If he's able, he'll always go sit in the sun, feeling the warmth on his face.

As the war progresses, the toll of it starts to affect him more and more. He starts to feel things more deeply then he ever had and he finds himself drowning constantly. Fear he's never known paralyzes him and he can't talk to anyone because there's nothing anyone can do. He's going to drown and he can see all the people he loves playing in the water not noticing he's been swept up by the tide.

Dex's Diner has been Obi-Wan's place for years, he brings only the most important people in his life there. Dex basically watched Obi-Wan grow up, he knows his favorite book, his deepest pain and insecurities, and how many times he's fallen in love.

Obi-Wan takes Cody anytime they're on Coruscant for leave. One night, it was late and after close, but it was in that little worn down diner that Obi-Wan and Cody celebrated their marriage, slow dancing to whatever jukebox tune was playing and holding each other tight.

After Order 66 happens, Cody feels drawn to the diner, he sits there for hours. Dex knows better to assume the identity of this helmeted man, but he always sits in Obi-Wan's booth and watches the door, expecting the love of his life to walk right in and apologize for being late. But Obi-Wan never comes, and there is never an apology.

﹄『❝ Obi-Wan ❞』﹃

[dahliadreamcraft]

Okay, so, let’s talk about the scene where Richter and Olrox meet again for the first time since the night Olrox killed Richter’s mother.

A lot of people have already point out how weird it is and it’s got a lot to do with the fact that nobody can figure out what the fuck Olrox was trying to accomplish or what the hell was going through his head.

Like, seriously, why is Olrox reaching out towards Richter? What does he expect to happen? If he were reaching out with like the Nosferatu “Imma kill you” claw hand, it’d make sense. But they have very deliberately drawn attention to the fact he is not making any kind of menacing or aggressive gesture.

Hell, I double checked this scene to see if he were preparing to snap his fingers to summon the fire skulls and I just missed it but no. That’s clearly a relaxed open palm, that’s…there’s really no getting around it, that is clearly the kind of gesture you make when you expect/want someone to take your hand.

And that’s bizarre because 1. Why would Olrox want Richter to take his hand in the first place and 2. Why the hell would Olrox think Richter would take him up on it?? And 3. What the fuck was Olrox going to do if he DID get a hand on Richter?

Now the easiest answer would be to just assume that Olrox is just screwing with Richter, but, well one that’s the boring answer, and 2 even if we do assume that, the scene still feels weird.

And while I still cannot for the life of me come up with an explanation for what the hell Olrox was thinking or trying to accomplish, I have realized something about why it’s so hard to just dismiss it as Olrox fucking with Richter and leaving it at that.

So, regardless of why Olrox did it, the undeniable fact is that he was reaching out towards Richter with the intent of making some kind of physical contact.

And that’s weird because, up until that point and from that point on,

Olrox actively avoids touching anyone except Mizrak.

Seriously in every scene he’s in, especially with other vampires, he’s almost always got his hands behind his back, I.E to himself. Olrox doesn’t seem to really like sharing his personal space, he straight up side eyes Doltra when she casually puts a hand on his back. Olrox does not care for people getting up close and personal with him and subsequently he doesn’t seem to particularly care to get up close and personal with anyone else either.

Now Mizrak is the obvious and notable exception. But we also know exactly why Mizrak is the exception, that was spelled out on no uncertain terms at the start of the very episode Olrox and Richter meet again.

But that’s why this scene is so odd. The show has gone out of its way to show that Olrox does not like going around casually invading people’s personal space or touching them, with Mizrak being the one exception that we already have an explanation for.

And this

Pretty much establishes that Richter is also an exception, despite arguably being the last person you’d think would be an exception.

So, yeah. I still don’t have any clue what Olrox was thinking or what he was trying to accomplish, but I wanted to share this because I’m still stuck on these scene and I think I at least figured out why it’s sticking so much.

[avatar-anna]

What a Night

i know some of y'all wanted to see professor at the grammys, but i decided to save her for the brits! here's to seeing harry let loose once a year!

Professor Series

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Friday

“Doctor Y/l/n, are you going to the Brits with Harry tomorrow?”

Now, a few months ago, that question would’ve startled you, flustered you even. But Harry “audited” your lectures enough that your students knew he was more than just a friend. You were teaching them how to observe the mundane and make educated guesses about their surroundings, after all. It was technically for law enforcement, but they put it to use after the first few times Harry snuck into the lecture hall and occupied a seat in the back corner. He never said anything during class, but he always stayed after, and he always walked or drove you home. It was hard not to put two and two together.

Your brow wrinkled with confusion. “That’s not this weekend. It’s on the eleventh.”

“That’s this weekend, Professor,” the same student who asked the initial question said. “Did you forget?”

There was a small chorus of giggles from the lecture hall because of course their professor would forget one of the biggest nights of the year for British artists. You didn’t mean to, but you were known for getting caught up in work. Losing track of time or not knowing what day it was was commonplace for you.

Class ended shortly after that, and you immediately checked your calendar. It was in fact the weekend of the eleventh, the Brits were this weekend, and you’d completely forgotten.

You raced back to the townhouse, dialing Harry’s number as you hopped on your bike.

“Hi, love—”

“H, I’m so sorry, I totally forgot about the Brits this weekend. Well, I didn’t forget because I can’t forget, but it slipped my mind, and I feel terrible because this is such a huge event for you and you would never—”

“Hey. Y/n. Take a breath,” Harry said. He waited for you to relax, listening for your deep breaths. “Calm now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. I guess I’m just a little stressed because I have to book my train ticket to London—”

“It’s already booked,” he said, not sounding nearly as stressed as you felt.

“It is?”

You could almost hear his smile as he said, “I had a feeling it would slip your mind. You had your big lecture this week. How did it go?”

You wanted to talk about this weekend and the plans Harry made for you because he knew you so well, but you couldn’t help your huge grin when he asked about your seminar, which had been one big talk that was open to all Cambridge students and anyone else who could make it to the university and wanted to hear your lecture on criminal psychology.

“So good, H! They want me to do a series of lectures, maybe even broadcast it online so more people can watch.”

“That’s not at all surprising. I’m so proud of you, darling. I’ll definitely have to watch one, possibly all of them.”

As much as you wanted to gush about the seminar, you circled back to the topic at hand. “W—What about you? How are rehearsals going?”

Harry blew out a large breath. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m exhausted,” he said. “But I’m excited too. Not turn tables this time.”

“Aw, H,” you said, coming to a stop on your bike as you reached the townhouse. You were well aware of just how exhausted he was. Last week he fell asleep before your takeout order had arrived, and he was jumping right back into touring after this award show. “Are you free tonight? Assuming I’ll be on a train in the next couple of hours I can make dinner and we can watch a movie.”

“You hate movies,” he joked.

“Yeah but you don’t,” you said. “This weekend is about you. I want to do whatever makes you happy.”

“Oh, well if it’s all about me then,” Harry said, his voice playful. “Train departs later this afternoon. I’ll pick you up.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” you told him as you entered the townhouse. “The cats miss you almost as much as I do.”

“Well, we won’t be apart for long. Now,” Harry said. “Tell me more about the seminar. I know you’re dying to talk about it.”

Sometimes it was eerie how well Harry knew you, but you summed it up to him being a devoted partner.

“Well, the lecture hall was completely filled, and at first I thought it was mostly your fans, but everyone was there to learn! I had candy to give out for people who answered questions, and so many people stayed afterwards to talk. Oh! And you’ll never believe...”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Saturday

“Babe, that was Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

“The Stanley Tucci!”

“I know!”

Harry giggled and hid his face in your neck. He was practically on top of you, but you didn’t mind. Harry always got like this when he had a few too many. He would drink, and then he became the most physically affectionate person in the room.

The night had been pure magic so far. Walking the red carpet with Harry had been nerve-wracking, even when he told you he wore this suit so you could hide behind it whenever you got nervous. But being next to him the whole time made it somewhat easy. That and you recited the plots of Shakespeare plays in your head to keep your mind off the flashing lights and people yelling at you to look this way and turn another.

Harry had kept to water until after his performance, which was when he really started to let loose. He’d wanted to keep a clear head to perform, but now that it was over and done with, he was pounding the tequila. You and Gemma would share amused looks every now and again, but mostly you were just happy to see him enjoying himself.

And winning.

“This is just unreal,” he mumbled, his breath fanning against your skin. He’d been deposited into the seat next to yours after accepting his fourth and final award of the night. You watched as Kid and Tyler had to help him offstage a little, so you weren’t surprised when he plopped down beside you unceremoniously, or when he proceeded to pull you close and mumble slightly incoherently against your neck.

“I—I truly never thought that I would—that I could ever—I just feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now.”

You scratched the back of his head affectionately, grinning a little as he hummed in response. “You deserve everything, love. All of it. You work so hard, and you make so many people happy.”

“Yeah?” Harry said, peeking his head up to look at you. “And what did I do to deserve you, hm?”

Blushing, you looked away. “Stop it.”

“Never.”

The night carried on, and Harry was pretty much the star of the show. He was on cloud nine after his clean sweep, and you couldn’t have been prouder of him. It was odd to think that an album that was heavily based on the things you went through with Harry would gain such critical acclaim. When you heard his album for the first time, it had been jarring and a little uncomfortable because they were your experiences too, not just Harry’s. But you also knew that as an artist, Harry best expressed himself through music, and you learned to feel honored to have a small part in his artistic process. And they were heartfelt songs, at the end of the day, each one expressing just how much you meant to him.

At one point in the evening, Harry grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you away from the table you’d been sitting at all night. You first thought he was going to introduce you to someone—a friend or collaborator, maybe even Stanley Tucci—but he bypassed all the tables filled with celebrities, heading out of the main space where the award show was being held. Harry didn’t stop until the sounds of the most recent performance were muffled and it was just the two of you in a forgotten hallway.

“H, what are we—mmph.”

His lips were on yours before you even had the chance to process. They were warm and eager and tasted faintly of tequila, but his hands were steady as one gripped your hip and the other held the side of your head, fingers inching into your hair. The kids startled you, but Harry’s eagerness had you responding in kind, even though anyone could’ve turned a corner and caught the two of you.

Harry didn’t seem to care about getting caught either. The hand on your hip trailed down, his fingertips grazing the skin revealed by the high slit on your dress. It was the smallest graze of skin against skin, but it sent a shiver down your spine, and Harry could sense it. He smiled, kissing your top lip before dragging the bottom between his teeth.

“You look heavenly tonight,” he said, his thumb drawing circles into the skin of your thigh. “Done my best to behave myself all night, but now I just need a little taste, that alright?”

Heat spread from your neck all the way up to your hairline. You could handle him calling you pretty or beautiful or any of the other conventional compliments shared between partners, but Harry always made it a point to go above and beyond that, almost like he was trying to make you blush.

You found yourself nodding at his request because in all honesty, he looked devastatingly handsome in all of his different outfits tonight, and this silk shit was no different. It took a surprising amount of restraint to not run your hand along his exposed chest multiple times tonight, and you were pretty sure Harry could sense that.

He pressed teasing, feather-light kisses on your jaw, then your neck, those fingers of his still tracing patterns on your leg, not once sneaking past the lace fabric of your dress, which he had been admiring you in all night. It wasn’t often that you got dressed up, not that Harry minded, but you were pretty sure he was shocked to see you in a floor-length dress made of form-fitting pink lace. It was a shock for you too, but a good one.

You figured hidden away like this, the moment would be rushed and frenzied, but Harry was surprisingly delicate. By the time he made it down to your collarbone, you had to put your fingers in his hair to urge him to apply just a little more pressure.

“Sorry,” he said, still kissing. “Don’t want to ruin such a lovely dress. And all good work takes time, professor. You know that.”

Harry fiddled with one of the straps of your dress, admiring the intricate lace detail before sliding it down your shoulder. Your eyes widened.

“Harry, are you insane? We can’t—”

“Relax, just gonna give you a little kiss. Like this, see?”

Just as lightly as before, Harry pecked your shoulder, shooting you a teasing grin afterwards. His smile sparked a mischievous confidence in you that only he seemed able to bring out. Running a hand through his hair, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling back so you were nose to nose with him.

“Do I get to have a little taste now too?”

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Harry walked into the small room where journalists and photographers were waiting for him. His hair was tousled, messier than it had been at the start of the night. Those in the press room chalked it up to an eventful night that included an electric performance, but only because they didn’t see the small purple bruise that was barely covered by his partially buttoned dress shirt. He seemed less inebriated than he had been onstage, though there was a glint in his eyes still, from a successful night at the Brits, no doubt.

He answered questions and talked about how grateful he was. He talked about his album—the process of making it and the warmth it received upon it’s release. Then,

“To celebrate? Uh...” There was a small grin on his face as he paused to think about what he wanted to say versus what he would actually get up to.

Harry gave his last answer of the night, then thanked everyone before leaving the press room and heading straight to where he knew you were waiting for him.

[bambisnc]

you got mail~!

➵ from : xu minghao~ ♥︎ (b4 reading look here for cw/tw)

"remember that bet we made a couple weeks ago? ..yes i’m aware we’ve made several if one were to count but i’m specifically talking about the one where you said that you are, and i quote, “cute as fuck” and charming enough to be able to win over anyone you’d want, myself included. we never really reached a proper conclusion on it; you’d gotten distracted and fled the library on receiving a call from who i’d assumed was your distressed best friend, leaving me there drowning in an oasis of overthinking - i’ve always found your empathy rather.. charming. another incident i’d like to bring up took place during the school camping trip a couple months back,.. i was going through some hard stuff then. obviously there was no reason for me to, and i know that you must have thought of me as more of an asshole than usual, but i was particularly relentless with you - i definitely did say some harsh things which i didn’t mean. you fought back - which, on another note, is also something i admire about you - how you never back down from a challenge - but right before you stormed off in the dark of the night, i saw the faintest shimmer in your eyes.. you were crying. the sharp stab of pain that raced through me, the sound of blood rushing to my head made me unable to choke out the words out of comfort i so strongly wanted to. you missed the presentation that was scheduled for soon after, and i can’t tell you how sick i was with worry. i saw you soon after with the person i believe you were romantically interested in then, whispering something softly to each other. and that, sweetheart, was my italicized ‘oh’ moment. i admit it was obviously not the best time to realize it; i didn’t want to a home wrecker?? there was also the fact that you probably hated me with all of your existence.. so i did everything i could, i put in all the effort to be able to gain back your favor. i’m sure you would have been wondering where the sudden niceties where coming from. to be very honest, i think a part of me always knew, subconsciously, how much your presence meant to me - our rivalry in a way encouraging me to do my best - and how much i wanted to treasure you. i called you 'sweetheart', defending it to myself as it being a petty insult but maybe i just liked affixing an endearment to you..

not much else to say now, except, well, you’ve won. you’ve got me hopelessly falling for you. you make me feel emotions i’ve never felt before and i can’t help but feel terrified. you have me losing sleep daily thinking of you, your unfaltering confidence in goodness, your dedication to whatever you put your mind to, your witty remarks, and that infuriatingly gorgeous smile of yours that i seem to be rather incapable of resisting, because how can i not let that infectious joy and optimism of yours settle into my veins, my skin, my heart. i’ve let you run away from me twice. i refuse to let that happen again. i'm willing to fight, to beg, to wait. to do whatever you ask of me. I’m aware a relation like ours cannot just be redone completely in a day, but i promise if you give me the chance, i’m more than willing to make it all up to you and make you happy, so please, let me now make sure that i can treat you with all the love you deserve, sweetheart."

~ yours (if you so choose to accept me ♡︎)

[check out my masterlist for more >.<] + [more of you got mail~!]

[keikiri-kitten]

HAUNTED HOUSES ★ KEIGO TAKAMI

a/n: keigo x reader, gn!reader, Keigo takes you through a haunted house, post 385 keigo (wingless keigo), you hate haunted houses and the actors are allowed to touch you, fluffy stuff at the end :))

Ah yes, right in time for the spooky season. When October rolls around, Keigo is your guy. One may assume that spring is his time to shine but that is simply a misconception. Keigo will never miss an opportunity to indulge in some Halloween activities. He loves the rush of the cool wind over his face and the decorations of skeletons along the light posts on the streets. It drives him this season. And for some reason, he has so much that he wants to do now that he has you. One of those activities that he just so happens to lure you into is going through a haunted house. Has he been to haunted houses before? Plenty. At first, going with Mirko and watching her kick a poor actor into the wall was the highlight of his haunted house experience. But going with you takes the cake. This man has seen it all. After seeing real blood and gore, some actors in face paint clicking in his ears and grabbing at his hoodie as he saunters down dimly lit walls is damn near hilarious to him. Not to you though. With his hands in his pockets and allowing you to grip onto his hoodie, you keep your face firm against his back.

You wish he would hurry the fuck up instead of dragging his feet down the damp halls that from what you could hear, held a witch and some demons that are howling in your ear and gently pulling at your top. You only agreed to go out with him tonight because he said it wouldn’t be that bad. You regretted it the moment you saw the promotional video on your phone. Fear settled into you before you stepped foot in the building. Your heart beats at a hard and fast pace. You only saw the doors and the actor who portrayed some form of guide before your eyes shut tight so you could embark on your journey blind. “Keigo! Can you hurry up please?” this is the first time you peek your head over his shoulder– you immediately realize that’s a wrong move.

Keigo’s firm in his stance and walk, pulling a hand out of his pocket to show you the horrors in front of you. The area is pretty much black apart from the white strobe lights. The hallway is way smaller than you imagined and that only meant that the clicking and harsh calls from the actors are closer than you initially thought. “Come on babe, it’s not that bad. Wait ‘till they start chasing you.”

“What?!” as you scream, you get the most horrific looking face forced into the left side of your cheek. You see decayed skin covered in blood and what you could assume was mold as well as bright red and white contacts peer into your soul. The actor in front of you growled out profanities as you scream, making Keigo try his best to hold in his laughter. “Keigo!” you bark, face quivering back into his shoulder.

He gets the hint. You want out and what was he if not a savior of sorts? The retired hero knows more than anyone that you were simply ready to get out of there so after carefully prying your death grip from his hoodie, “if you’re acting like this, I would keep my head down.” The blond holds a wicked grin as he begins to run at a pace you can keep up with through the rest of the experience.

Though you were running, It in fact did not get better. It seems as though seeing you two run made the actors get more aggressive, their yells are louder, they touch your arms and shoulders, they pinch at your ankles and rattle their cages with more vigor. This run earns a certificate for being worse than any gym class you ever had. Really a good scare in Keigo’s eyes. Soon but not soon enough, you both made it back out in the cold October night, greeted by cold droplets of rain.

Panting, you rip your hand from the man and heave over. That made him turn around quickly to check on you. Trying to get your heart to slow down, you place both hands on your knees and hang your head low.

Rolling his eyes and walking closer to you, he holds you by the arms to help you stand tall before embracing you in a hug. His hug is warm, heavy and tight. It was a sign of protection; his arms wrap around your neck in an attempt to make your head feel self. You happily take the position of letting your arms drape on his waist. Shoving your face in his shoulder, you sigh out comfortably. “You know? It actually wasn’t that bad now that it’s over.” The man scoffs, pressing a warm kiss to your temple.

“I’m proud of you for making it out of there alive,” he teases, earning a gentle push…not even rough enough to make him stumble back. You can’t even accept him stumbling back in a moment like this. Pulling your head from his collarbone to look him in the eye, his gaze meets yours and you can see that gentle smile and those gilded eyes.

A gentle kiss is placed to your lips after hearing a disheveled, “Oh whatever,” leave you.

“What’s next? Making out in a corn field?” Keigo suggests, making you smile for the first time after leaving the haunted house. You feel the calm take over you, resting along his body.

“We’re going apple picking. If a villain doesn’t kill me, you will with your little Halloween rush.”

“Lay on a couch for an hour while someone analyzes your recount of tonight. We’ve got so much to do and we don’t have much of the month left.” with his head tilted to the side, he butters you up with a smug look. “I’ve got you, the little monsters won’t get you.” littering your lips with kisses, he tries to soften you up. It doesn’t take much convincing.

“Fine. Only one more scary thing this month and then the rest is you on your own.”

“I like apple picking, too.”

[onmyyan]

I love Caspian, the perfect soft yandere!

If his darling tried to leave would he be the pathetic cry baby who sobs as they try to leave and the guilt makes them stay or the possessive "You can't" and keeps them restrained kind?

A/N: WOOOO I love him n I wont him feedback is always welcomed hope u like🖤 (EDITED 12/16/22)

T/W's: Cis fem reader, Yandere shenanigans, manipulating but the hot kind, cursing

Okay, so the fun thing about Cas is he is charming. Like poured all his points into charisma, any chance to fight or argue is crushed by his silver tongue, people look at him and assume he's all brawn and no brain and he liked it that way, made it easier to crush vermin but I digress, we got a master manipulator on our hands, he'd never use his powers for anything that could cause you harm of course!

It's everyone else who's gotta be worried. He would slowly and meticulously isolate you but you're having such a good time you don't notice until someone else points it out. He's so good in fact before you know it he's the only person outside of work you've spoken to for three weeks. You'd been so wrapped up in Caspian everything else faded away, he had that effect on you a lot, you were so enamored with him that you'd completely forgotten about a brunch date with your girls planned ages ago, so when you're rushing around to get ready to leave he's suddenly behind you, his all-encompassing frame pulls you in from behind as he silently takes his morning kiss, his lips taste like maple, warm hands tilted your chin up for deeper access which he explored immediately. His tongue snaked its way in your mouth to dance against your own, the little moan he let out as he pulled away was downright sinful.

"Where you off to looking that fuckin' good." His words had some bite but no malice, suddenly flipped you around to face him, "Lemme' get a proper look at my girl." His hands trailed down your waist with a heated force. He sucked his teeth, shaking his head with that wicked grin, he leaned down to steal another soul-stealing kiss, "S'it my birthday again?" He always made you laugh, your face hot and cheeks sore from grinning like the fool in love you were.

"Just gonna get something to eat with the girls, you remember them right?" You'd turned once more to finish getting ready and missed the meanest expression curl on his face. He nodded, more to himself than you, with a half-hearted laugh. "Course I do."

It was about three weeks into the relationship when you first brought it up. He knew your partner meeting your friends was socially important but truthfully he couldn't give less of a shit at the idea of sharing you with anyone, he did that enough already in his mind. However, the shy way you pitched the idea to him had his heart melting and he had to physically keep his hands occupied so they didn't squish your cheeks. Naturally, he said yes, hoping he could keep himself in check and not scare you off but your little friends sure made it hard.

He remembers the way they stole your attention the entire night you'd introduced him to your friend group. The two women had made up their minds about him before he had gotten a word out he just knew, the slight widening of their eyes and the rapid way they texted under the table, but what sealed it was when you excused yourself to the bathroom, the two women following after you like lemmings.

He debated his actions for a split second before pulling out his phone and logging into the bug he'd installed on your cell. Now- he trusted you with his life, but he also knew how kind and forgiving you could be which the worst kind of people were attracted to. He trusted you to tell him if something was wrong, this was just an extension of that trust.

He caught the shrill voices of your companions with a wince, "-ly shit (y/n) he's is so fine!!" The giggles that followed belonged to you. "It's been so unreal- I feel like-"

"Is it serious?" One interrupted- he thinks her name is Shea, much to his annoyance.

"What do you mean? I think so- I hope so." His blood began to simmer at the two harpies polluting your thoughts. "It feels serious." You said mostly to yourself as the two women were chittering amongst themselves like teenagers, his hand found his chest at the sound of you reaffirming the truth, while you may not know it for certain yet, he knew you were his person.

"Why'd you ask?" You questioned softly, the silence that followed was thick, "Girl it's nothing. I was just asking if you were exclusive or like seeing other people." He could practically see her lewd expression, her tone made his stomach lurch, to think you thought these people were your friends. "Yeah, again I ask why?" You sounded uncomfortable, the edge in your voice only fueled the fire in his belly. She scoffed a laugh, clearly not ready to be called out, "Oh my god (Y/n) baby you are so tight for nothing- I was just seeing if you guys were legit- come on he's ridiculous you can't blame me for asking."

"Yeah don't get upset she was just kidding-come on our food should be there by now." The second woman dismissed your unease and tried to move past the situation which you chalked up to nothing and silently made your way back to the table where he'd been waiting, his phone tucked securely in his pockets. He watched you try to put on a face, to engage and be present but that wench of a woman across from you had ruined your mood.

He pretended to get a text and pulling out all his training in the theater he gasped, suddenly jumping to his feet, shocking all three of you.

"Ma called the bees are back!" He panted as if stressed, quickly grabbing his coat and throwing enough cash on the table to cover you both, you'd stood as well, the pure confusion on your face nearly made him break character, but he stood strong. "I'm sorry- bees?" You asked in disbelief, slipping on your own coat, his hand grabbed your purse for you, the other wrapped around your waist as he began leading you away, "Uh bye? I'll call you later." You yelled over your shoulder, squeezing his hand, "Is your mom okay? What's going on?"

"Oh she's fine I lied." He squeezed the flesh of your hip gently pulling you closer to his side. You couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "You lied to get outta there? Why? Did Shea say something to make you uncomfortable-"

"No- you came back looking sad, and I didn't wanna' yell in such a nice restaurant so I made a call." He kissed the side of your head as you two leisurely walked back to the car, he'd spend the rest of the night showing just how much better company he was.

He is the biggest baby in the universe, and the thought of you being alone with those two demons made his skin crawl, so he'll crank up the drama to 11 and begin moping around until you ask him if he's alright, which doesn't take much as he looks like a kicked puppy. He assures you nothing's wrong but he makes it sound unbelievable until you, being the Angel you are say you're not leaving until he tells you what's going on, cue the waterworks as he "looks" for the words to say, you're by his side in a second, and as soon as you're within reach he's clinging to your middle, the hot tears streaming down his face left a growing stain on the nice dress you'd put on, he'd let himself be consoled by you, let himself be silently rocked and babied until he's "ready" to talk.

"I'm so sorry Honey- I'm keeping you from your brunch, don't worry I'm fine I'm just having a bad day. Go, have fun, I'll be here when you get back." He didn't need to look up to see you shake your head.

"Shut your beautiful face, I'm ordering from your favorite and we're having a self-care day okay baby?" He would nod into the flesh of your stomach, his grip tightening. "Thank you Sugar, you always take care of me, I love you." He's a whiney blubbering mess anytime you try to do anything without him but you're so focused on cheering him up that you don't notice the pattern until it's too late.

[anonymouslosersworld]

Two-faced

Two-faced pt 2

Characters; Tenjiku

Genre: Fluff (F)

Toman reacts to : s/o with a double life.

warnings: Reader is a menace to society pt2

Requested by: @sousheiswag

Summary: gang leader!s/o that hides the fact that she Is a True menace and a gang leader to anyone.

characters: Izana, Ran Haitani and Rindou Haitani

Hiding something like 2nd life was exhausting. Like honestly how did you even find the energy to do it?

Your boyfriend's clingy, stupid, and always had to give you a heart attack one way or another, even if he doesn't admit it. He was up your ass every other day and making you angry half the time. Which made you so happy that you had ...creative outlet

It honestly took a load off caving someone's faces in after a big fight you had said, boyfriend. Sometimes you needed something to end up in flames and someone's ugly sobbing to get your anger out.

It was always a big plus that the people you were kicking the shit out of weren't the innocent bystanders but other gang douches that broke your territory rules or tried to take over your said territory.

But today you were running behind schedule some gang decided to pull some shit the day of some important day your boyfriend invited you . So you had to stop in the middle of getting ready to go deal with them.

you were kinda pissed, while you were hot the temp for that day was even higher and it made you cranky. So the douches got the death of a lifetime.

Izana Kurokawa

Izana was fucking worried, he went to your apartment to check on you because you hadn't called him like you promised you would. Your room looked like it had been ransacked if he was being honest, but he knew that the mess was a part of getting ready to go out.

what really made alarm bells ring in his head was the ugly boot footprints all over your home, he thought you had been kidnapped. While he usually said anything about your shoe preferences these seemed to be all over certain parts of your parents. It's where you keep all your valuables...kept is more like it since these places were empty/ ransacked.

Izana let out a huff and gritted his teeth.

'unbelievable' He thought as he walked out of your apartment.

'I'm so fucking late!!!'

well, you say that but you didn't seem to stop shoving s scum bag's face into the floor.

"you seem to like being on your knees for a girl huh? you must make someone happy." you said trying to alleviate your bad temper.

"oh but who am I kidding, you get no bitches do ya!" You grunt as you knee the guy in the face. "You'd be lucky with just a hello!"

"If it weren't for you I'd be with my boyfriend but noooo. Y-you just couldn't shut the fuck up and leave me be!"

The sound of bones breaking was clearly heard by you as you curb stomp the idiot who dared to cross paths with you. You can't help but remember a time not so long ago when it bothered you. But you were most certainly more bothered by your current predicaments because you didn't notice someone coming up behind you trying to confirm it's really you.

"DO you know how fucking long it takes to get a date with that asshole?! A lot! I worked really hard and you ruined it!"

"I could be sipping a (insert drink) with him right now! or watching a fucking movie?! Now I'll have to wait til his dumbass schedule opens up for another one bitch!"

Ran Haitani

See you rather die than admit to Ran that you were a leader of the gang. To give that man satisfaction would be a stain on your pride. So you obviously decided you would deal with the way you love.

Fighting was not one of them.

Physiological warfare of course.

So no Ran didn't catch you exactly fighting but in a particular scene. To him, it looked like you were ambushed or being harassed by a gang. When they looked at him in fear he just assumed it was because of him.

Turns out it was the opposite situation, he had no idea that you had told this daddy's man that his daddy knew what he was doing in his free time.

You had just exposed him for being a fraud rich boy wannabe gang leader just cosplaying, causing his fear to become real as his gang was ruthless and cutthroat.

"Now. do you want me to tell certain interested parties about this orr?" your paused before continuing, "you know you have a really pretty dad ya know? He really looks like my friend's type too, maybe you'll have a new step-mommy."

" You think your empty threats-"

"Empty? who said they were?" You grab his face and squeeze it with a force to bruise his face. "watch your tone with me little bitch boy, or you won't like the consequences ."

The look on the man's face when registered Ran's oncoming figure was hilarious. You would probably laughed if you weren't caught red-handed doing something."

"Heyyy Ran~"

"Is this what was keeping you late?"

"hmm~? what do you mean?"

"This dude bothering you?"

"Oooh, no we were just having a spirited conversation and we finally finished. "

The look on Ran's face was unreadable but after a minute he nodded.

"alright you little bitch, do what I told you or else," you whispered to the man behind him and walked to Ran who had extended his hand to you to hold.

So ran didn't find out till after rumors had spread that he was someone's dog and bitch.

Rindou Haitani

Rindou finding out that you were in a gang was actually pretty easy if you asked him (you never denied it or tried to hide it) . But if you asked yourself, you couldn't have been more obvious with him. In your relationship with Rindou you pride yourself with being honest with him and having a clear and open line of communication with each other.

you literally had just gone to the bathroom at this cafe that you and Rindou decided to have a date at and suddenly Taiju Shiba was in your seat trying to "conduct business'" with Rindou. You smirk as you approach the table before stealing a kiss from Rindou and placing yourself onto his lap.

"Hi baby, whose this date crasher?" you question him playing dumb. You knew Taiju very well.

"This is_"Rindou began before being interrupted by Taiju

" I don't think it any of your business'."

A laugh escapes your throat and you smile at him.

"Well I know you don't think at all. But seeing as you interrupted MY date with MY boyfriend.. it is my business. "

" No one has taught you to speak when your spoke-"

" Unlike your shitty ass, poor of excuse of a way of treating your "family" you don't get to talk to me that way. Or did you forget your manners when your parents died Dog." You spoke with poison in your veins, you hated every single cell of that loser. For the way that he treats your friend and her brother but also the way he handles things.

Taiju blood boils and he begins to try to "disciple" you but before he or Rindou could even react, your men quickly disabled Tajiu and pinned him to the table. With his face shoved into the dirty café floor , you motion to your men to pick the loser up. Blood ran down his nose and forehead, his cheeks stung from your full force slaps to the point were he almost didn't feel them.

" Now, just this once I'll let you off easy okay girlie? Because i know of a couple of interested parties that would like to shoot another one those videos. "

His face drained of color as he remembers Haikai's significant other torment and the humiliation's he went through because of them.

"good you realize who I'm speaking of. Hears what we are going to do. Your going to leave me and my boyfriend to our date. These lovely men are going to beat you to inch of your life then leave you for dead in some random river while recording everything and maybe just maybe that video will end up in Koko's or haikai's lovely s/o hands. And you will spend every waking moment wondering when either of them is going to strike."

Rindou had chills for weeks after that. He processed the event slowly as he clearly remembered the fear in Taiju's face. The fact that you could be so cold and ruthless but the next second be so warm to him blew his mind.

He would do the same thing of course but he needs time to process. But in the meantime you two go on a lot of uninterrupted dates.

Hajime Kokonoi

Kokonoi values information, money and luxury.

But there was a fourth thing he valued with his grubby greedy hands the most and that was you. You had everything he valued and loved all wrapped into one. You somehow knew information that it would have taken him a lot of time and money. You had "strange" and "random" friendships with some questionable people, connections he knew where in HIS world.

so he didn't have evidence to back up his claims but in his 4 million heart he knew that you were at least involved into his world but just didn't know how much. He knew you either deep enough to be an information gatherer of a spy but he didn't think you were a gang leader.

Day and night he would undirectedly tell you to leave that world behind and that he would take care of you but you never acknowledge his underlying message.

But he realized how strong you were when a gang he was working on merging another gang to tenjiku only to realize that group had disbanded and joined another gang.

Shion

Oh He knew, you think he would forget getting his ass beat by you??