#i'm dead inside when it comes to news content but the part of me that reacts to grammar and spelling can't be killed alas

[gravitasmalfunction]

I am "I can't read the news without missing subeditors" years old

[leahswife]

the in-betweens

summary: in which you and aitana go from normal best friends to best friends who kiss.

a/n: this is the before of "where do we stand". gotta post some aitana fluff after all the jenni filth. i'm sorry if this feels rushed but i just couldn't find any more ways to describe the goddamn act of kissing 😭

prequel, part one, part two, part three

"ven a bailar conmigo, porfaaa." aitana begged as she grabbed your hand. 

"no no no aita–" you tried to protest but the girl's strong arms pulled you up from your seat, in the direction of the dance floor. you looked back at where you were seated besides caro and marta, sending them a pleading look to save you. they sent you an apologetic look but knew even they couldn't reason with a buzzed energetic aitana. you groaned at being dragged, you weren't in the mood for drinks tonight and you pretty content sitting next to the calm couple.

you don't know where aitana managed to find so much energy to party after a long game. but she did. and insisted on trying to force some of it into your worn out body.

you danced for a while, aitana screaming along to the spanish songs playing. you were unable to keep your frown on, with a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you saw how happy she was.

she finally calmed down and wrapped her arms around your neck which made you comfortable enough to wrap yours around her waist, pulling her closer. you felt like your heart could combust with how close she was. she was breathless and clearly still high on a buzz when she got closer to your ear to shout "quiero besarte!" you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not quite understanding what she said, a mix of language barrier and loud music not allowing you to. she grabbed the back of your neck to pull you closer and shouted again, "i want to kiss you!" she smiled excitedly.

you felt like your eyes couldn't grow wider if you wanted to, shocked at what you just heard. "you want to kiss me?" you asked her, disbelief in your voice. she just nodded with a happy smile and kept on dancing like she just didn't drop those 'too drunken' news on your 'too sober' self.

you went along with her wishes for a while but the pressing of sweaty bodies against you was starting to make you uncomfortable and so you got closer to aitana to shout in her ear, "i'm tired, tana. i'm going!" she nodded, starting to get drained too and both of you went back to your friends' table to gather your stuff. she tripped a bit on her own feet and you quickly put your hand on her waist to steady her, "okay, i'm taking you home." you say as you grab her stuff for her, she just giggled and let you take the lead, "at least take me to dinner first."

once you got to her house, you search for her keys in her purse and open the door, planting your hand on her back to guide her inside.

"so much better." you let out as you relished in the warmth of aitana's apartment, compared to the night's relentless cold outside. you turned to aitana to see her shivering in her dress, holding tightly onto her jacket.

"aitanita, go change into your pajamas." you rubbed up and down her arms and she nodded, "you can use my pajamas too" she suggested quietly, sleepiness taking over her.

"oh that's okay, i can go ba–"

"i'd like for you to stay." she whispered, looking up at you. she was sobering up by now and you could see it in her eyes there was something she needed to let out. did she remember what she said earlier? about you two kissing? she could really just let it go and blame it on the alcohol but you knew aitana felt the need to carefully explain any behaviour that could come across as weird. so you nodded. you went to grab her pajamas and got ready in her bathroom while she got dressed in her bedroom.

when you walked in, aitana was sprawled in her bed, dead asleep. you looked at her for a moment, heart beating slightly faster at the thought that your best friend might like you back. anyway, that was something for you to obsess over later. you chuckled at her figure and tucked her in, pulling the warm covers over her. you grabbed a blanket and made yourself comfortable on her couch.

–

"why did you sleep on the couch?!" 

you groaned and reluctantly opened your eyes as a scolding aitana woke you up.

"you don't have a guest room." you mumbled sleepily.

"so you should've slept in my bed." she crossed her arms.

"hm. couldn't disturb your beauty sleep." you put one arm over your eyes to keep away the light.

"idiota." you heard aitana mutter under her breath as she continued to throw complaints in catalan at you.

"aita, aita, aita" you repeated in hopes of interrupting her, in which you were successful, resulting in aitana shutting her mouth but not without sending you a scowl.

"qué?"

"has anyone ever told you that you're extremely loud and talk way–" you're interrupted by her rolling her eyes and moving towards the kitchen, ignoring you, "-- way too fast!" you yelled after her.

soon after, you feel a body sit down next your lying one. you opened your eyes to see aitana offering you a plate with fruit and eggs and some orange juice. you sit up, a smile forming on your face. "you didn't have to."

"eat." 

"bossy."

"as i speak."

you looked at her, getting slightly anxious at what was about to come next. but you nodded and started diving into your plate.

"i said something last night." she started, hesitantly. you nodded again, focusing more on your plate rather than looking at her so she wouldn't feel so much on the spot.

"i didn't– i don't want to make you uncomfortable with what i said."

"did you mean it though?" you finally lift your gaze towards her. 

"i– i did mean it. but i don't know what that means for me. if that makes sense." aitana was looking at her hands, fidgeting with them. this was clearly a sensitive topic. you noticed her breathing starting to get irregular and you put your plate and glass on the coffee table so you could get closer to her.

"i just don't want to lose you and i'm sorry if i made things awkward or different–" she started rambling the same time her tears started flowing down her cheeks. you pulled her into a hug and held her tight, "hey, tana–" "i don't want you to look at me differently or avoid me–" she was trying to control her breathing at this point, so you grabbed her cheeks, "aitana. stop." you said firmly, trying to ground her. she finally regained control of her breath and looked at you with slightly red eyes. 

"aitana, i can assure you that you wanting to kiss me is not a problem. at all. i don't feel weird or uncomfortable or whatever. hell, i feel flattered that aitana bonmatí wants to kiss me." you winked at her, trying to lighten up the mood. she giggled and wiped her nose. you felt relieved when you saw the smile back in her face, "i know this is probably overwhelming for you right now and you have a lot to discover on your own. but i can't lie and say i don't want to kiss you either." 

she looked up at you, eyes wide at your confession. 

"but if that's something you're not ready to explore, let's leave it at that and let it go."

–

and you did. let it go, that is. for a little while.

none of you spoke about it. you figured aitana should be the one to bring it up when she's prepared, so you went back to normal. as if nothing happened.

until it did.

–

you and almost the whole barça team were hanging out at mapi and ingrid's house for bonding night. you had played a few games and were now gathered around the living-room, watching a movie.

you were sitting at one of the ends of the couch, with aitana cuddling you by your side. you'd often whisper things to her to explain some scene from the movie or make some joke about what was happening. you'd do anything to see her smile and give you her absolutely lovable giggle.

at one point she nudged you to face her. "hm?" you asked, highly aware of how close your faces were. "i'm going to take a nap, wake me up when it's over." she whispered and you could feel her breath on your lips, which was far too intoxicating. you could simply nod and try to not look at her lips. 

she smiled as a thank you and flicked her eyes to your lips before gazing back up at you. you felt her inhale a short breath before looking down at your lips again and moving closer, pressing her own against the corner of your mouth. if your heart wasn't beating fast before, it definitely was now.

you started at each other, both understanding that that changed something.

she leaned her head on your shoulder again to try and take her nap but there was no way aitana was able to fall asleep now with the thundering in her chest.

–

the ride back to aitana's house was silent. there was unspoken tension between you two and you both knew it.

you got out of your car and walked her over to her door, not quite sure what to say and feeling like a teenager with a crush who's just dropped her date off at home and doesn't know what to do.

you huffed in frustration. the silence was killing you and you had to do something about it. you stepped closer to aitana and carefully cupped her cheeks, looking at her as if asking for permission. she didn't pull away so you leaned in, noses touching, you giving her another chance to back out if she wanted to.

she didn't. so you took your chance and softly pressed your lips against hers. 

you honestly didn't know how to describe it. it was tentative, gentle, delicate but - comfortable? like your lips were always meant to touch hers and knew exactly how to move against hers as if you've kissed a hundred times before. 

after what felt like ages to you but were actually seconds, aitana kisses you back. you keep kissing for a few more moments before you pull back, hands still cupping the catalan's cheeks and stare at her, breathless.

"i swear, aitana, if you still don't speak after that i–" you're cut off by her sweet little giggle before she presses multiple kisses on your lips. "you want to come in?" she asks, biting her lip to try and keep her grin from widening even further.

"damn, bonmatí. a girl gives you a finger and you want the whole arm." you shook your head in fake disapproval.

"callate." she grabbed your hand and pulled you in. 

the rest of the night was spent with you two letting your lips and tongues explore each other's mouths. it started off as shy and tender but as comfort and boldness started to settle in, your kisses got harder and provocative.

however, no matter how much your hands and lips delved into each other, no labels were defined. 

and they wouldn't be for the next months to come.

–

a routine started to settle in. you would show up at each other's houses for "best friend's night" and it always ended up with you locking lips. whether it was while aitana was cooking or when she beat you at a board game and you wanted to shut her up.

the same conversation also started to settle in between make out sessions. "just friends, right?" aitana would whisper breathlessly against your lips, and you would nod, agreeing with whatever she wanted so you could press your lips against hers again and again.

"i just," she would cut herself off to kiss you, "can't be," kiss, "in a relationship right now." kiss. you would agree because you would accept anything aitana would give you, no matter how small or little it could be.

you couldn't keep off of each other even at training, with you often pulling her inside closets so you could press her against the wall and muffle her giggles with your mouth. or when she would drag you into the changing room while others were at lunch to playfully bite your lips and leave you winded up.

but aitana was a busy person. she had family, friends and her career to focus on. but all she seemed to focus on now was you. and that was starting to worry her. she never had to make room for someone else in her life since starting her career, except for the casually meeting friends once in a while and visiting her family when she could. but to share everything with someone?

so she started to pull away, she wouldn't reach out to you during trainings, choosing to focus on getting there earlier for gym sessions and staying after to practice some more. this was her life, this was her focus. it had to be. so the "best friend's nights" started to disappear as well, aitana claiming she was too tired after trainings. and she was, she really was. as much as she trained, she didn't feel as fulfilled as before. the more she pulled away from you, the less accomplished she felt. but she also pulled these feelings away.

football was once her entire life. and it would be again.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝕿𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 | 1

Read Chapter two - here [MASTERLIST]

screencaps and gifs: Pinterest

Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Warnings/tags: MDNI 18+, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, BLOOD, Auctioning people, talks of BDSM, talks of virginity, talks of STD and STI tests, Dom and Sub dynamics, underage drinking (20), THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Summary: 20,000 dollars in student debt can lead to irrational decisions, like engaging in a questionable discussion when a friend who is knowledgeable about BDSM mentions an auction she's attending.

WC: 3.6K

A/n: the first of the new and improved version of my mister miller fic🫶🏻

For notifications follow - @sinful-mind-joyful-fics

Cold and heartless, Dr. Richards, your financial aid advisor, was a stern woman. You had expected that, considering the difficulty of having to inform hundreds of students about whether they could afford to continue their college careers or not. Last week, you discovered an unpaid dues notice from the school when you were looking through your financial reports. You had thought that all your dues were covered by a creative writing scholarship and financial aid.

Dr. Richards set your papers down and sighed, taking off her glasses and looking at you with an unexpected hint of pity. "Would you like me to be kind or blunt?" she asked, her voice steady but softened by the weight of bad news.

Your hand slapped to your forehead instinctively as dread pooled in your stomach. "Blunt," you muttered, bracing yourself.

"You're $20,000 in debt," she continued without missing a beat. "The total cost of your first year was $40,000. $20,000 was covered through financial aid and the scholarship, but if you wish to continue, the remaining $20,000 has to be paid by the start of next semester."

Shock and anger twisted inside you, making your vision blur. "Three months?!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with panic. "How am I supposed to afford that? I can barely afford anything as it is."

Dr. Richards leaned back, her eyes holding a mixture of sympathy and resignation. "I understand this is difficult, but the reality is, you need to find a solution quickly. Perhaps a private loan, more scholarships, or even a part-time job."

The office walls seemed to close in around you, the air thick with the weight of impossible choices. You stood up, feeling the urgency of time slipping through your fingers. "I'll figure something out," you said, your voice a brittle whisper of determination.

As you stepped out into the corridor, the gravity of your situation bore down on you. The campus buzzed with the usual life of students, oblivious to your internal turmoil. Every step you took felt heavier, each echoes a reminder of the $20,000 chain now dragging you down.

Night fell as you wandered the campus, lost in thought. The familiar paths seemed alien, shadows stretching long and menacing under the flickering streetlights. Once you made it back to your cramped dorm room, you opened the door and flopped onto your bed without even glancing at your roommate, Faith.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Faith asked, concern lacing her voice.

You lifted your head from the bed just enough to reply. "Remember the financial notice I got last week? Turns out I'm $20,000 in debt, and I didn't even know. Ugh, I should have read the papers more thoroughly." You sunk your head back into the thin, scratchy comforter on your bed, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on you.

Faith sat down on the edge of her bed, her eyes wide with concern. "That's... a lot. What are you going to do?"

You sighed deeply, the sound muffled by the comforter. "I have no idea. Three months to come up with twenty grand? It feels impossible."

Faith was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thickening. Finally, she spoke, her voice a mix of determination and desperation. "We'll figure something out. There has to be a way."

You nodded weakly, and Faith gently moved your shoulders to get you to sit up. She sat next to you and nudged you playfully. "Maybe a sugar daddy? You're a hot 20-year-old with a banging body," Faith joked, her mischievous grin breaking through the tension.

You managed a small smile, though part of you wondered if she was actually being serious. Faith was always open about her sex life, unlike you. You were a virgin, but the thought of a sugar daddy did sound appealing in your desperate situation.

"Yeah, right," you replied with a chuckle, though the idea lingered in your mind longer than it should have. Faith's laughter filled the room, a momentary reprieve from the oppressive worry.

Faith stood up abruptly before walking to her laptop and bringing it over to you. "A Twilight marathon isn't going to fix this," she cut you off, her tone serious, as she settled beside you.

"I know, I know... but," she hesitated, her expression grave, "well, I might have a solution." With a look of persuasion, she showed you her laptop screen, displaying a website named 'Twisted Temptations.'

"Your BDSM club?" you blurted out, taken aback.

"Okay, okay, listen," Faith hurried to explain, sensing your shock and disapproval. "We're doing this auction... You get 10% of whatever they bid for you."

You stood there, frozen in disbelief, waiting for Faith to continue. "How do you think I paid for college and..." she paused, choosing her words carefully, "most don't even want sex. You should at least look at the application."

You shook your head, doubt clouding your thoughts. "I don't know, Faith. This is so out of my comfort zone."

Faith moved closer, her expression softening with concern and determination. "Listen, I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was safe. The club is strict about boundaries. You set the limits, and they are respected. Plus, I'll be there to guide you through everything."

You glanced at the laptop screen, the application form open and waiting. The prospect seemed overwhelming, yet there was a glimmer of hope—an unconventional solution to your daunting financial problems.

Faith sensed your hesitation and continued, "I know it's a big step, but think about the benefits. You need the money, and this way, you control what happens. You set your limits and preferences, and everything is mutually agreed upon with your partner. Trust me, you'll be safe."

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "But what if something goes wrong?"

Faith smiled reassuringly. "It won't. The club has strict rules and procedures to protect everyone involved. I'll help you with everything—filling out the application, setting your boundaries, and making sure you're comfortable. You won't be alone in this."

The weight of your financial troubles pressed down on you, and Faith's unwavering support felt like a lifeline. You sighed and sank onto the bed next to her. "Alright, I'll do it, but you have to help me. I don't want something to go wrong."

Faith's eyes lit up with excitement. "It won't," she assured you confidently. "Let's get started." She quickly filled in your name, age, and other essential details, then looked at you with a reassuring smile. "Okay, now we need to talk about your preferences and limits. This is really important."

You nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "What kind of preferences?"

Faith glanced at the screen, scrolling down to the next section. "Let's start with the basics. Are there any absolute no-go areas for you? Things you absolutely won't do?"

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Well, I'm a virgin, but I'm ready to...you know, not be. I just don't want to do anything I'm not comfortable with."

Faith nodded, her expression serious but supportive. "That's totally okay. You can specify that you're new and what your limits are. Many people in the club respect that and will help you explore at your own pace."

She typed as she spoke, checking off boxes and filling in fields. "What about things like light bondage, sensory play, or role-playing? Have you ever thought about those?"

You blushed slightly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "I've never tried any of it, but I guess I could be open to light stuff. Nothing too intense to start."

Faith smiled encouragingly. "Perfect. We'll start with light bondage and sensory play. You can always update your preferences later as you get more comfortable."

She continued filling out the form, asking about your comfort levels with different activities, safe words, and any medical conditions or allergies. You answered as best as you could, relying on Faith's guidance and the snippets of information she'd shared with you over the years.

"Remember," Faith added, "most of what you like and don't like is decided mutually between the dom and sub. Communication is key. You'll discuss your limits and preferences with your partner beforehand, and you can always say no if something doesn't feel right."

Faith noted your availability and reviewed the application one last time. "Alright, I think we're all set. Ready to submit?"

You took a deep breath, nerves, and excitement swirling within you. "Ready."

Faith clicked the submit button, and the screen flashed a confirmation message. She turned to you with a grin. "Welcome to Twisted Temptations. You're going to be great."

As you sat there, a mix of relief and apprehension settling over you, Faith squeezed your hand. "Remember, you're in control. This is about exploring your boundaries and discovering what you're comfortable with. And I'll be here every step of the way."

You nodded, and Faith smiled. “The auction will be held next week. You’ll need to get an STD and STI test done, and you desperately need to get something sexy.”

You gasped at Faith. “I own sexy clothes?”

Faith giggled and walked over to the closet. "Well, maybe not yet, but that's what I'm here for."

She flung open the closet doors and began rifling through your clothes. After a moment, she pulled out a baggy hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up with a look of mock horror. “Unless you plan on seducing someone with the allure of ‘Netflix and no chill,’ we need to do some shopping.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, point taken. But where am I supposed to find something sexy?”

Faith’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Leave that to me. We’ll hit up the mall tomorrow, and by the time we’re done, you’ll have an outfit that’ll make jaws drop.”

You felt a mixture of excitement and dread. “Fine, but no leather. And nothing with feathers. Or sequins. Or—”

“Relax,” Faith interrupted, still laughing. “I know just the thing. You’ll be sexy, not sparkly.”

As Faith closed the closet doors with a flourish, she turned back to you, her expression turning serious. “But seriously, the tests are important. We need to make sure you’re safe and everything is in order.”

You nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in again. “I’ll make an appointment first thing tomorrow.”

Faith grinned and flopped down on the bed beside you. “Great. Now, let’s watch a terrible rom-com to celebrate your big decision. It’ll be our last bit of normalcy before you become a sex goddess.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

Faith and you decided to Uber to the auction. The city lights blurred past the window as you fidgeted with the hem of your newly purchased dress. Faith noticed your nerves and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone both calming and excited, “let me walk you through what’s going to happen tonight.”

You nodded, trying to focus on her words instead of the churning anxiety in your stomach.

“When we arrive at the venue, we'll check in at the front desk. They'll hand you your papers and auction number,” Faith explained. “Then, we can mingle and meet some of the other participants. It's like a real auction party, so don't be shy about striking up conversations.”

You took a deep breath, feeling slightly reassured. “And when does the bidding start?”

Faith grinned. “Bidding starts at 10 PM sharp. That's when the real excitement begins.

As the Uber came to a stop outside the venue, I looked out the window at the unremarkable building that awaited me. Faith led the way, exuding confidence as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

Stepping into the venue, anticipation swirled around me like a gentle breeze, mingling with the soft melodies of background music. The interior whispered of understated elegance, with dim lighting casting enchanting shadows across the polished floors and plush furnishings. Faith guided you towards the check-in desk, where attendants bustled about with papers and pins. You exchanged a nervous glance, excitement bubbling beneath the surface as you approached the desk.

“Welcome,” greeted the attendant with a warm smile, “may I have your names, please?”

You and Faith exchanged introductions before the attendant handed you each a set of papers and pins to attach to your dresses. With a playful grin, Faith nudged you and held up her pin, wiggling it teasingly.

“Alright, partner in crime,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “let’s get these on and make sure we’re looking sharp for the auction.”

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for your friend as you both leaned in to help each other attach the pins to your dresses. 

With your pins securely fastened, you and Faith made your way toward the main ballroom. The air seemed to buzz with an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation. As you approached the entrance, the grandeur of the room came into view.

The ballroom was a striking blend of opulence and decadence. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the space, illuminating velvet drapes in deep, sensual hues that lined the walls. The polished marble floors reflected the ambient light, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. Guests mingled in clusters, their laughter and hushed conversations weaving a tapestry of sound that filled the room.

At one end of the ballroom stood a grand stage, draped in rich, crimson fabric and adorned with luxurious golden trim. The stage was set for the auction, with a sleek podium at the center and rows of plush chairs arranged in front, ready for the evening’s main event.

As you stepped further inside, the scene grew more intense. The guests were an eclectic mix, their attire ranging from sophisticated evening wear to daring, barely-there outfits that left little to the imagination. Leather, lace, and latex dominated the fashion choices, with some attendees adorned in intricate harnesses and collars, their outfits hinting at the BDSM theme of the event.

Faith squeezed your hand one last time before she was swept away by a familiar face, her confident stride never faltering. You stood there for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety as the crowd seemed to close in around you. The noise, the lights, the sheer number of people—it was all too much at once.

Your heart raced as you tried to navigate through the sea of faces, each one strange and intimidating. The grandeur of the ballroom that had seemed so captivating just moments ago now felt overwhelming. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady yourself, but the sensation of being out of your depth only intensified.

The guests were like nothing you had ever seen before. A man in an immaculate tuxedo strolled by, a jeweled mask obscuring his eyes, while a woman in a full-body latex suit and stiletto heels sauntered past, her movements deliberate and commanding. A couple nearby caught your eye: the woman wore a sheer, flowing gown, her partner trailing behind her on a leash, wearing nothing but leather shorts and a collar.

In one corner, a group of people had gathered around a figure suspended in a rope harness, their intricate knots both artistic and functional. Soft moans and murmurs of appreciation floated through the air as the person twisted slowly, lost in the sensations the ropes provided. Another attendee, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, held a riding crop, playfully tapping it against their thigh as they chatted with a scantily clad submissive whose eyes never left the ground.

Guests lounged on plush sofas, some openly engaging in power play dynamics. A woman in a sleek corset held a leash attached to a submissive kneeling beside her, while another couple whispered intimately, their hands exploring each other's bodies with practiced ease. The atmosphere was charged with an erotic energy, a palpable sense of anticipation for what the night would bring.

As you continued to weave through the crowd, searching for a familiar face or a quiet corner, the overwhelming nature of the evening began to settle heavily on your shoulders. The mix of luxury and raw sexuality, the boldness of the guests, and the anticipation of what was to come all blended into a dizzying mix that left you feeling adrift.

In that moment, you longed for Faith's reassuring presence, her confident guidance. But she was somewhere amidst the throng, leaving you to navigate this new and intimidating world on your own. You felt a prickling sense of vulnerability, the realization that you were truly stepping into uncharted territory sinking in as you tried to steady your breath and find your footing in the extravagant chaos surrounding you.

So, like every college student in a social bind, you made a beeline for the bar. "Shit," you muttered, realizing you had left both your fake and real ID back in the dorm. Trying to muster some confidence, you approached the bar, hoping your outfit might be convincing enough. You sidled up next to a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit. You could catch the faint scent of pine and campfire from his cologne.

Putting on your best flirty face, you addressed the bartender. He was the complete opposite of the man beside you—average height, slightly taller than you, skinny, tattooed, and wearing an ill-fitting button-up uniform top. His head was shaved clean. "One shot of Tito's, please," you said, playing with your hair in an attempt to seem older and more sophisticated.

The bartender chuckled. "ID, please?"

You leaned forward, arms together to emphasize your cleavage. "ID, really?" you said, trying to be as seductive as possible.

The bartender looked tempted but quickly shook his head. "No ID, no alcohol," he said firmly, turning away.

You groaned in frustration, which caught the attention of the man next to you. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was older, that was clear, but he looked good. His stubble was neatly trimmed, his curly hair slicked back in a way that seemed both effortless and intentional, and his eyes were large and expressive.

"So, no ID?" he asked, his voice warm and slightly amused.

You smiled back. "No, but a girl can try."

He set down his glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light. "Well, how old are you then?"

"Twenty," you admitted, locking eyes with him.

Before you could continue the conversation, Faith appeared, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the bar. "What were you doing talking to Joel Miller?" she asked, her voice a mix of shock and concern.

You glanced back, watching Joel as he turned back to his drink. "Just chatting. Why?"

Faith handed you a pamphlet and opened it to a specific page. "Page four," she instructed.

As you skimmed the page, she continued, "Joel is... intense. He's someone to shy away from until you're more experienced. Trust me on this."

Your eyes widened as you read the details. "Intense" was an understatement. "So, who's the safe bet?" you asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

Faith's face softened. "His brother, Tommy. He's more laid-back and a better choice for someone starting. You'll find him much easier to talk to."

You sighed, glancing back toward the bar. "Guess I dodged a bullet, huh?"

Faith smiled. "Yeah, you did. Now, let's find Tommy and get you introduced. He's around here somewhere."

Joel suddenly appeared as you and Faith navigated through the crowd, stopping you both dead in your tracks. "Tito's," he said, handing you a glass with a wry smile. He glanced at the number pinned to your dress before walking away, leaving you stunned.

"What was that about?" Faith immediately questioned, her eyes wide with surprise.

Before you could respond, a voice boomed from the auction podium. "May all the products please make their way backstage."

Faith turned to you, her expression shifting from curiosity to urgency. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, we need to get backstage."

Your heart pounded as you nodded, clutching the glass of Tito's Joel had given you. You downed it in one gulp, hoping it would calm your nerves, then handed the empty glass back to Faith. She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine. Just remember what we talked about. You're in control."

With a deep breath, you joined the other "products" making their way to the designated area. The backstage was a flurry of activity, with organizers checking names and numbers, and participants adjusting their outfits one last time. The air was thick with anticipation and a hint of perfume mingled with the scent of leather.

An organizer approached you, checking your number against his list. "You're number 3, correct?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely audible over the din of conversation and last-minute preparations.

"Great. Just wait here until you're called," he instructed, pointing to a row of chairs along the wall.

You sat down, your mind racing. Faith's words echoed in your head: "You're in control. You decide your limits." The reality of what you were about to do began to sink in, but you steeled yourself, determined to see it through.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about Joel. His unexpected gesture with the Tito's, the way he had looked at you—something about him intrigued and unnerved you. But Faith's warning was clear: he was intense, someone to be cautious around. Your thoughts were interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

"Number 3, you're up next," the organizer said.

You stood up, smoothed out your dress, and took a deep breath. As you stepped towards the stage, the curtain drew back slightly, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of the auction room. The ambient lighting cast a soft glow, illuminating the expectant faces of the bidders, their anticipation palpable in the air.

Stepping into the spotlight, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The auctioneer's voice echoed in the room, commanding attention as he announced, "And now, presenting number 3, starting bid at $500."

[hangesdarling]

Idea! Hange who finds out her rival in the scouts is actually just a massive bottom

rivals, right? — h. zoë

PAIRING. Hange Zoë x female reader SYNOPSIS. You and your rival Hange were forced to sleep in one tent for an expedition. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, nipple sucking, fingering, oral sex, a bit slow burn WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. sorry anon i missed the part where they're scouts :") they're both section commanders on this one though. hope that's alright!

"I'm not sleeping with you," you groaned, the irritation sharp enough to cut through the night. 

"You make it sound weird when we're just sleeping in one tent," Hange said with an amused laugh, padding up the tent floor with a few blankets so it wouldn't be too rocky to lie down on. 

So annoying, you might be thinking. Hange always acts coy, teasing even as if your constant clash and rivalry were an amusement of some sort. Years of training and expeditions, even as scouts, Hange always managed to be linked with you. Both were labeled the smartest, both became section commanders at the same time, and both were considered respectable researchers. Your titles always one up with the other, a tight competition you never seemed to have an agreement on. 

"Ugh, why is it always with you?" You mumbled behind the notebook you're scribbling on. It was loud enough to reach Hange's ears. 

"Sorry, dear. Every tent is occupied," they said simply. Hange placed two makeshift pillows, peeking over the tent as if waiting for you to come inside. You glanced in their direction but turned away almost instantly. 

"I'll be out here for a while," you muttered, focused on scribbling on your notes. Hange looked over your shoulder in curiosity, crawling beside you. 

"Observations, huh?" Hange remarked, pushing their glasses up so their eyes could follow your scribbles. 

You blushed at being observed, quickly hiding the notes you were writing. 

"Nah, just listing why my research is more relevant than yours," you saved yourself from awkwardness, pulling a smug smile. 

Hange laughed, tilting their head almost mockingly. "That's kinda pathetic, don't you think?" 

"Heh, not when I get those two titans for my experiment," you replied, lips curling into a smirk. 

Ah, so damn stubborn, Hange thought. They shook their head lightly, still amused by how you managed to pull this stubborn behavior with them for years. You're typically kind and soft-spoken with other scouts, an authority to be respected, not feared. But Hange finds it almost ridiculous when you both act like bickering children around each other. 

"Would it kill you to share a titan with me? Besides, Erwin said we only get to capture one titan each."

"Out of all people, you should know that won't be enough," you replied. The situation you're both in just hardens your stubbornness. How could humanity thrive and gain knowledge when research is always limited? Tight budget, the shitty authority; Survey Corps never seems to run out of problems. 

"Well, we have to work with our limited resources, you know," Hange explained. "We're not supported enough in terms of this. Our supplies are insufficient. That's probably why we're sharing a tent."

"I'll do something about that," you mumbled like a steadfast promise. "Just go to sleep for now."

Hange looks at you for a while, perhaps in admiration or judgment. But in any way, they see the reflection of their resolve. 

"You should sleep too. It would be a long day tomorrow. Good night, Y/N."

Do something about it, huh? Hange slept with that curious thought, wondering what risky method would you try to pull in the next few days. 

---

Being outside the walls stopped feeling new after your tenth or fifteenth expedition. As a scout, you always have some sort of fear just from the countless tales of unsuccessful expeditions and a tower of dead bodies after one. 

 But now, you managed to expertly map through the routes outside just from memory. Where titans roam the least or the best view to watch over their behavior. 

You were sitting atop a branch of a large tree, binoculars in hand, and planning where to stage the capture. Your mind went through the manpower and equipment sent with you outside, wincing at the fact that the capture could be dangerous. Hange managed to develop a catching net some months ago, ensuring a safe capture. However, with the tight route and a precarious amount of titan, you doubt that this capture would be entirely safe. 

From another tree, Hange was watching titans, observing how slow they usually walk without bait. They are focusing. Supposedly. 

But now and then, their binoculars would travel over where you sat, the lenses perfectly capturing your distress at the current conundrum. 

No sooner, you felt another presence at the tree—Hange's familiar footsteps, careful to reach you on that wide branch. 

"You're worrying about the route, isn't it?" you heard them whisper behind you as you lowered your own binoculars. 

"Not just that," you sighed defeatedly, head on your hands. "I was thinking that two titans really wouldn't be enough for us even if we shared."

You handed Hange your notebook much to their surprise. They flipped over the pages, gaining an understanding of your concerns. Your desired experiment might be ambitious and idealistic but it would be helpful if you succeeded. But with resources so limited and countless lives to take into consideration, how would you able to do this?

Hange sat beside you, still thumbing over some pages. Even if you're turning your face away, Hange could tell you were trying hard not to tear up from the frustration and possibility of loss. This was important for you after all. They've watched you study, observe, and create all of these for over a year. 

They placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before saying, "We could do something about this, you know that. Come with me."

----

"Why do you always kick your blanket off when you sleep?" Hange asked curiously one night in the tent. 

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do! I had to tuck it beneath your feet at least three times last night," Hange argued. 

"My, don't bother with it..." You brushed it off, turning away from them to hide your face. You tried to trace back since when Hange Zoë's relationship with you became so casual, almost friendly. If your mind wanders far enough, you might consider something else happening. Affection, maybe. But you shrugged all those thoughts off, reminding yourself that the plan you agreed on was purely for science and the advancement of humanity. 

"But you're weak to coldness," Hange continued, covering you in several layers of blanket, ignoring the pout on your lips. They had a grin on their face when they said, "Don't want my research partner getting sick, do I?"

"We're not research partners," you frowned.

"Eh, why not? I just told you my whole plan and you agreed with it."

"Doesn't mean we're partners from now on."

"God, you're one stubborn lady," Hange chuckled, a sigh escaping their lips. They pulled their blankets over them, slowly dozing off. Outside, the night was filled with the gentle chirps of crickets, chorusing at one point. Even with such proximity, you could feel Hange's warmth, their gentle breathing only conveyed that they must also be awake. 

---

The next morning, you and Hange's plan set into motion, traps were located strategically in a different route. Both of you were taking full liability for what would happen in the days to come, informing the soldiers about the need to capture four titans to sufficiently conduct the research. It wasn't the safest plan, some were hesitant but many trusted your scheme since all of you share a common goal. 

You commander your unit, imparting knowledge of the best actions to take. But for the remaining hours, your eyes remained on your notebook, pretending to check details to reach the optimum result. However, Hange knew you had an entirely different reason. Maybe to interact less with them, afraid they would bring up how you two ended up tangled in each other's arms last night.

---

"I'm just letting you know that won't happen again," you said flatly, eyes boring upwards through the tent as you lay down. 

Hange turned their head to you, their lips forming into a subtle smirk once more. "What is?"

"Um, last night..." you said in a low voice. 

"Ah, you mean when you're hugging me so tightly?" Hange asked smugly. 

You bit your lip, trying to save yourself from this. "I was asleep. Not responsible for my actions, but forgive me for disturbing your sleep."

Much to your surprise, Hange hovered over you, their deep brown eyes glinting almost knowingly against the dark space inside. The atmosphere thickened, your heart ramming louder than the sounds of night. 

"No need to apologize for anything, sweetheart," they whispered, their eyes following your lips the way your eyes do for them. In that heated moment, all that you've both held in flooded out like a dam breaking and gushing to spill over. Hange placed a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you pinned on the blankets as their lips met yours. It was a firm kiss, your lips nearly melting into each other's. Your hands traveled on Hange's hair where you tug and pull them closer. Hange sat you up in their lap, gaining better access of your neck and chest. Their hands snaked under your clothes as they ask for permission to go further each time to which you only nod. 

"If you want to have me so bad, you shouldn't have spent years being annoying," you muttered into the kiss. 

"Says the one who wouldn't let go of me last night," Hange smirked, a thumb circling your clothed breasts. "Besides, you should've picked up on it early on. You're so smart after all."

"You know, you look more attractive when you shut up," you muttered as you fell on top of Hange. Their flushed face look at you expectantly, expecting you would dominate this whole ordeal. After all, they saw you in that dominant, commanding light after years of leadership. 

But Hange noticed how flustered you were just from being on top of them. Your thighs kept straddled on their lap, your hands resting on their shoulder, not knowing where to hold on. Hange smirked, taking it as a sign to flip you over once more. Their breath was warm against your ear as they whispered, "It's okay, Y/N. Let me do it for you."

Hange locked your lips in a kiss once more, bundling your shirt on your chest. Their lips slithered from your lips down to your throat, reaching the trail between your breasts. They kept one firm hand on your wrist as their tongue gently circled one of your nipples, sucking their lips on the hardened bud.

Hange covered your mouth before you let out high-pitched noises from the sensation. 

"Shhhh... You don't want your subordinates to hear you, right?" They smiled against the darkness. 

The night was slow and heated as you let Hange do wonders with their mouth and fingers, always managing to draw out a soundless moan from you. Your lips could only part, your hands clenching around their body. They were amused to see you follow along and nod with their wishes, so compliant with their charm.

Hange had the button of your blouse open, your breasts spilling out into their face and the warm flesh of your stomach open for their wet kisses. 

"You know," Hange began, drawing their fingers in and out of you at a teasingly, slow pace. "I didn't expect this much submission from you."

"Shut up, Hange..." you breathed out, a hand over your eyes as you were beginning to write against their fingers. Hange held down your hip, tugging your pants a bit more so they could have more access to you.

"As you wish, m'lady," Hange placed a kiss on your clit before gently lapping up the warm wetness gathering on your slit.

Hange kept on until the faint light of dawn slitted through your tent. You forgot just how much stamina they had to draw one orgasm after another from you. They only stopped when you've whined and writhed enough under them, pleading for a break. Hange fixed up your clothes, smoothed out your hair, and drew the blanket over you again as if nothing happened. Their wet lips kissed you once more as they said, "You still have a few hours to sleep. Sleep tight, sweetheart."

---

The capture will take place during the afternoon. The equipment was set, and the soldiers were preparing their ODM gear for however long the capture may last. 

The scouts passed by, even some of your friends, noticing the slight shift of the atmosphere but couldn't quite put it into words. Maybe this time their section commanders weren't bickering as usual. They went with that fresh start in high spirits,  brushing off their suspicions whenever they saw Hange place an arm around your waist or whisper something to make you laugh or blush. Your unit didn't think much of it, even attributing it as a minor hallucination or a ripple in the universe. There's no way their section commanders are getting affectionate.

After all, you're rivals, right?

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Aug 3rd

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1. Hi can you help me find this fic ?

So it was set during the Sunshot Campaign, vivid war setting, a lot of explicit sexual content,a long fic I think but definitely more than 10k. It was about Wangxian getting too during the war. I remember only some bits. LWJ asked JC for permission to get married or something of the sort and JC got mad because he thought LWJ was joking but started to negotiate with LXC when it became apparent he was not. Before the final battle WWX promised LWJ that they won't die.During the final battle LWJ got hurt and seemingly died and WWX lost control and made a giant earthquake that collapsed Koi Tower with JGS inside. LWJ was kind of dead for a while but his spirit stuck around (I don't remember why really just that maybe it was part of some spell?) and WWX managed to resurrect him but he needed to regain his memories slowly.

FOUND? The dreamers. by orange_crushed (E, 17k, WangXian, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Spells & Enchantments, Canon Divergence, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, War, Canon-Typical Violence, Sunshot Campaign, Temporary Character Death, The Character Dies But Does Not Stay Dead Trust Me, Resurrection, Suicidal Thoughts, Loss of Identity, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Injury Recovery, Trauma, Memory Loss, Memory Magic, War Is Hell Etcetera, I Promise The Characters Do Not Stay Dead and Will Absolutely Be Okay, Masturbation, Fantasy, Very Brief Mention of Burial-Mounds-Era Cannibalism, Major Character Death... but only for a minute honestly!!, Awkward First Times, Marriage Proposal)

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2. I'm looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian wasn't killed at the attack at Nightless City but taken captive by the Jins. It's discovered that, to escape the loss of his loved ones and the abuse at the Jin's hands, that he's grown a new core while dreaming and can now dream cultivate. He even manages to bring back Jiang Yanli. I can't find it and hope it hasn't been deleted. Any help tracking this one down would be greatly appreciated!

FOUND? Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, WangXian, NHS/MXY, Prison, Hair Washing, WWX thinks he is dreaming, Hurt/Comfort,vFluff and Angst, mentions of torture, MXY deserves love, Mention of dismemberment, Coming Out, Plotting and scheming, animate body parts, goose, and supporting avian cast, Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety Attacks, Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Do not fuck with NHS, Dreamwalking, Angst with a Happy Ending, I have read chapter 118 of MDZS ergo I regard JGY as a villain, JC is not a villain, just flawed, JZX Lives)

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3. looking for a fic that's set during the sunshot campaign, after wwx leaves the burial mounds and is found by lwj and jwy. all I recall is one chapter where jwy attacks wwx and endangers wwx. lwj rescues wwx and takes him to the medical tent, and then confronts jwy. I believe the fic author provided two versions of lwj's confrontation w jwy, one of which is a full on physical fight. does this ring a bell? thanks! @potatokunst

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4. hi, i vaguely remember reading a fic where wwx runs around the lan sect political hall in front of the other sect leaders threatening to strip to defuse political tensions HAHA i dont remember the name of the fic but if you could find that that would be great! thank you so much :)

FOUND? Kingfisher Feathers by anonymous (E, 165k, WIP, WangXian, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Rut Sex, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Palace, Royalty, Everyone Lives, Married but one of them doesn't remember it, Amnesia, Historical Inaccuracy, Harems, but not really because we all know lwj only ever sees wwx, Emperor LWJ, War Hero WWX, Collars as a status symbol, Eventual mpreg, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Mutual Pining, Breeding Kink, hints of dubcon cos the whole situation is kinda icky, trope-typical sexism, Dubious Consent, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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5. Hi! I am looking for this fic:

Wei wuxian either goes back in time or loses his memory. But it is back in burial mounds. And he has lost any love for Jiang Cheng. His golden core starts to come back to himself. Jiang Cheng comes to burial mounds demanding an explanation and wwx is rude as he doesn't have that brotherly love anymore

FOUND? 💖 Return to Sender by Thesaurus_with_no_words (M, 72k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX , WangXian Get a Happy Ending, YLLZ WWX, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, canon JC characteristics, Temporary Amnesia, Partial Memory Loss, Literal Emotional Manipulation, Unreliable Narrator, Unreliable Narrator WWX, they are all unreliable ok, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon typical horror and gore, Slow Burn)

FOUND? The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Canon Divergence)

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6. Im looking for this fic please let me know if you can find it

I don't remember a lot of it but in the end there is a battle and lwj and wwx are together and all the sect leaders are also on the battlefield. They can see that there is another flute and xichen finds out its jgy and su she responsible for it.

FOUND? 🔒 Living by WithBroomBefore (G, 15k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies, POV LWJ, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, Family Feels, Siblings, Crying, Lots of it, Suicide Attempt, just the one though, everyone goes to Lotus Pier, plot happens offscreen, Healing, Sad with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death,nmostly just hugs and weeping and healing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs)

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7. Hello! I have another fic finder request for you. I think wwx is a prince of the royal family that rules of gods/goddesses. I think lwj might've been mortal, but I'm not sure. I can't remember exactly how wwx and lwj meet, but I think they promised each other that they would marry. lwj then goes home and finds out that his marriage has been arranged - turns out it was wwx's family who got too excited and asked behind his back. I think wwx goes to find lwj in a tent(?) and tells him the truth before the wedding happens. Sorry it's kind of vague. Thank you everyone!

FOUND? cloudy autumn heaps the sky by anatheme (T, 23k, WangXian, Fantasy, Universe Alteration, Secret Identity, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Timeline What Timeline, wwx is a little older here, wwx piling gifts on lwj and encouraging hoarding tendencies, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Arranged Marriage)

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8. Hi! This is fic finder. A modern au where WangXian an ex. WWX works as a model and LWJ is a parfumer. LWJ got a job for YZY. When he goes to the meeting, he sees a bilboard that has WWX on it. Then he messed up the meeting. WWX and LWJ then work together. LWJ places got blown up. WWX asked LQR to sponsor LWJ. Thats all thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! 🔒 heart notes by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 92k, Modern, Fashion & Models, Slow Burn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Reconciliations, Family Drama, exes to friends to lovers, Second Chances, Breaking Up & Making Up, Flashbacks, POV Alternating, Perfume, Fire,bminor injury, Perfumer LWJ, Model WWX, just this once CSSR lives, LWJ's past mistakes come back to haunt him, the inherent eroticism of perfume and the application therein, a little bit of pining while fucking, shockingly enough this narrative does not rely on misunderstandings to fuel the plot)

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9. Hello!! Could you help me find a fanfic where wwx travels back in time as a ghost(? some people cant see him) and he stumbles upon lwj and lxc when they were kids, and he starts taking care of them like giving them treats and comforts lwj & lxc when they lost their mother

Thank you ! <3 @reredamancy

FOUND! Waiting by Morgana_avalon (G, 46k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Short Story, LWJ is five year old, LXC is eight year old, LWJ as a boy kneeling in the snow at the jingshi waiting for his mama to return, brothers looking out for each other, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, canon divergent but also canon compliant, Mystery, Mysticism, Chenqing, didn't know the name of Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen's father when I started writing this, Bichen, happy endings!, The Qilin, Author has no clue how to use birth/courtesy names correctly, Based on the TV-series and not the novel)

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10. Hi sorry to bother y'all, I am looking for a fic I've lost, (I need to learn to Bookmark them with Tags I can remember), and I need help finding it.

A) Basically WWX gets taken in by the Lans because YZ traumatized him to be afraid of Lotuses and Purple? I can't really remember but he gets to stay with LWJ because of it.

B) Mingjue after death gets turned into a talking head/loud goose and the cultivation world looses it's head.

Thanks so much for your all's effort in this blog! (^_^♪)

10A)

FOUND!🔒 this body yet survives by RoseThorne (T, 54k, WangXian, WIP, No War AU, Recovery, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Near Death Experiences, Attempted Murder, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Siblings, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LWJ, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Depression, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX,, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad)

10B)

FOUND? Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, WangXian, NHS/MXY, Prison, Hair Washing, WWX thinks he is dreaming, Hurt/Comfort,vFluff and Angst, mentions of torture, MXY deserves love, Mention of dismemberment, Coming Out, Plotting and scheming, animate body parts, goose, and supporting avian cast, Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety Attacks, Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Do not fuck with NHS, Dreamwalking, Angst with a Happy Ending, I have read chapter 118 of MDZS ergo I regard JGY as a villain, JC is not a villain, just flawed, JZX Lives)

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11. I cannot for the life of me remember this fic although I'm sure it's a time travel fix it. The scene that has been stuck in my head is:

During the sunspot campaign (?) jzx admits he wants to marry jyl, and wwx and jwy sit down to negotiate the terms (it is implied that they're going to take him for everything he's got and he's going to let them). Just then mianmian bursts in towing a very confused jgy who then realised what's going on.

I thought it might be paper moon but they never broke their bethrothal. I've gone through my bookmarks and still can't place the scene. Please help!! @theladypeartree

FOUND! Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)

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12. Hello there! I need help i am looking for a fic it was an Alien Invation au i think? Lan Wangji is in the Military with his brother Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. They were trying to fight some of the aliens but Lan Wangji got seperated and met wei wuxian who was a scientist. There was also Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning. Hope you can find it please! Thankyouu! @lynthecat

FOUND? Deleted "Son Of A Soldier Boy" by FireAwayy. The cached link for chapter 1. If they want to read the rest of the fic they will have to search each chapter to find the cached version. I did check the Wayback Machine but the fic isn't available there (but here is that link too if interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41843295 ) // Number 12 for yesterday’s fic finder sounds like “Son Of A Soldier Man” by FireAwayy. They deleted some of their fics a while back including this one. The fic is not available on the wayback machine but you can access it, chapter by chapter, through cached search results. I haven’t been able to find all the chapters but I imagine some more sleuthing can dig them up. You can follow this tutorial for info on how to access cached pages. Note that Google Chrome no longer caches links, so you have to use an alternative like Microsoft Bing (ext for Chrome available) to access. 

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13. For fic finder: My apologies if I recently sent in this ask: this fic has been on my brain for the last few days and I can’t remember if I already wrote in about it or not! It was a modern au about pro e-sports. The different sects are different gaming teams in this fic. WWX was accused of cheating a few years back and had to leave the Jiang team. LWJ, captain of Lan team, eventually finds WWX again and asks to enter a competition with WWX, and I think together they can pull off some kind of special move in-game that shows they have incredible teamwork or something. The fic reminded me of the danmei novel God Level Summoner, but I think the general theme of “fallen champion player gets back on his feet and wins the league” is pretty common in esports stories. 

NOT FOUND! Love OP Please Nerf by LikeTheTide (T, 13k, WangXian, WIP, Esports, Gamer AU, Modern, Gaming, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, screw top and bottom whos the tank and whos the squishy dps, Slow Burn) Based purely on synopsis, could this be 13?

FOUND! 【为梦想而战】for this dream, i'll fight by paradisetrain (M, 27k, WangXian, JYL/MM, Modern, Gaming, Gamer AU, League of Legends, Video & Computer Games, Gaming Jargon, Social Media, Internet Hate, cancel culture, Hacking, Cheating Scandal, Internet Scandal, Bad Parenting, Parent Death, Loss of Parent(s), Family Issues, Family Feels, Healing, Falling In Love, Threatening unborn babies, Death threats to unborn babies, Blackmail, Implied Incest, Canon Typical Incest, Between JGY and QS, Illegal Activities, The game is League of Legends but with different names, Why do people on the same team all have the same surname?, just because, featuring:, WWX Goes Back to Gusu, WWX's canonical self-worth issues, LWJ's unconditional support of WWX) #13 might be this one - I've not read it, but my bestie says it might be the one.

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14. Hello! I'm looking for a fic that's is a university au, maybe lwj pov? In this fic, lwj is selectively mute and took a semester off from college to learn sign language so that he could communicate solely through that. When he meets wwx and his siblings, they can all speak with him because Madam yu is deaf and they know sign language because of her. I think wangxian meet at a cafe where wwx works? At some point point lwj is forced to make a speaking presentation in on of his classes and he prerecords a video to show in class instead due to his anxiety, also somewhwere in the story jiang cheng helps him through a panic attack. I swear I have looked all over AO3 for this fic, but I haven't been able to find it, so there's a chance it might have been deleted, but I hope you all can help!!!!! @kavlobebeki

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15. Hello, thank you for all your help! I am now looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian was raised as Jiang Cheng's whipping boy. This was a common practice among the gentry except for in the Lan clan. JC grew up and he tried not to do anything that would lead to WWX being whipped in his place but during the Cloud Recesses lectures Jin Zixuan demands WWX be whipped and JC can’t really stop it. Lan Wangji tried to intervene but Lan Qiren held him back saying not to get involved in other sect’s conflict. I think Meng Yao was also a designated whipping boy for Huaisang, possibly all the whipping boys for all the young masters also attended the lectures as manservants? I would love to read this again, if anyone can find it! @gloriousclotpole

FOUND? the price of a home by JemTheKingOfSass (T, 13k, JC & WWX, Whipping Boy AU, Pre-Canon, Canon verse events, TW details in top Notes of any chapter when necessary, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, the price of a home [podfic] by esbielle)

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16. I'm looking for a fic where the Lan are the most powerful sect, or maybe they were royalty, and take over Lotus pier because Lan Wangji thinks Wei Wuxian has very impolitely spurned his marriage proposal, only for it to be revealed that Madam Yu did it. @mullk6

FOUND? Warrior Prince by QteCuttlfish (M, 4k, WangXian, Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alpha/Omega, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Implied Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant)

~*~

17. Hi can you help me find a wangxian fic where wei wuxian either runs away after the golden core transfer/did not participate in the war and works at an inn? He ends up finding and rescuing the wens and they work at the inn with him. Then lan wangji found him and so did jiang cheng at the end. @fjcfanatic

FOUND? The Taste of Home by For_the_Love_of_Bichen (E, 49k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bar/Pub, inn owner WWX, WWX never learns demonic cultivation, Human WWX, canon compliant up until the golden core removal, set in mdsz world, Fantasy Medical Procedures, Medical Procedures, Golden Core Transfer, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels, canonical kinks, Anal Sex,bAnal Fingering, Oral Sex, Bathing/Washing, Dual Cultivation, LWJ & WWX Have a Breeding Kink, WWX Has a Rape/Non-Con Kink, mild cnc kink, mentioned cnc kink, no actual cnc play, Mild Breeding Kink, Drunk LWJ, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Slow Burn, Possessive LWJ, First Time, LWJ Has a Praise Kink, WWX Has No Golden Core, WWX Has Self-Worth Issues)

~*~

18. Hi, I really hope you find this fic! It was WIP which I found only a few months ago. I think it's Jiang bashing altogether because the last chapter ended with Jiang yanli giving tea to Jiang fengmian saying she will take care of something. I tried the "Jiang yanli is not an angel" tag but I cannot find it. Can you help me with this one please?

~*~

19. For some reason scrolled by this fic when browsing through someone's bookmarks and now cannot remember whose, so must turn to you once again! Time travel by Jin Zixuan. Judging by the summary, I think he comes back to awareness in the middle of the fight with Wei Wuxian at Cloud Recesses; he wonders about the fact that he's sure he was bleeding out just a moment ago, then about the fact that WWX suddenly looks a lot younger but still very angry. @linderel

Had no idea that there would be several fics with that premise but then again, perhaps not surprising! Sadly, none of the three suggested for #19 so far sound right. I'll probably still read them at some point.

additionally, about #19: I'm fairly certain that the summary mentioned JZX bleeding out or something, which none of the suggestions have. I also went back to dig through several authors' bookmarks myself but alas, no luck yet; not even any of the suggested ones has popped up

NOT FOUND 一寸光阴一寸金, 寸金难买寸光阴 by orphan_account (G, 11k, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, JZX Tries, JZX Has Friends, (frenemies really but still), Canon Divergence, Temporary Character Death, JZX-centric, Reconciliation, Everyone Lives, Socially Awkward JZX, Second Chances, Cloud Recesses, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Pining, JZX can see the love, Matchmaker JZX, did he sign up for this? no but he's gonna try anyways)

NOT FOUND Brittle Steel Slicing Through by meyari (T, 19k, JYL/JZX, WangXian, Major Character Death, Sunshot Campaign, War, aftermath of war, PTSD, Warning: Jin Guangshan, fuck that guy, murder as a method of problem solving, murder as a flirtation method, learning to communicate for idiots, Time Travel Fix-It, Jin Murder-Babies FTW, Fluff and Crack)

NOT FOUND 🔒 Rise of the Peacock by JustAWanderingBabbit (Not Rated, 70k, JZX & JGY, JYL/JZX, 3zun, WIP, Canon Divergence, Re:Birth/Transmigration, Drabble to Full Story, JZX is all grown up in a boy's body, Time to save the world, Or at least save JZX's chest cavity, I just love saving JGY, Definitely NOT Untamed timeline, Reasonably intelligent gamers, The Jin Brothers are a team, Attempted Sexual Assault, unwanted sexual touching)

NOT FOUND With you, I can fight the World by Weiyingbestboy (G, 2k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JC & WWX & JYL, JZX & WWX, Everyone Lives, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JC is so done, JZX and WWX Friendship)

FOUND! 🔒 long bygone burdens by humancorn (T, 17k, JYL/JZX, JZX & WWX, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travelling JZX, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, JZX-centric, JZX Tries, JZX & WWX Friendship, Wife Guy JZX, He's doing his best ok, Canon Divergence, mentions of corporal punishment) So none of the fics suggested for #19 were right but I finally braved the search function and found it myself! I think I skipped it because it wasn't Wangxian content 😅 Anyway, it was this

~*~

20. hello! for the next fic finder, i’m looking for a fic where lqr ends up being able to hear wwx’s thoughts. there’s this distinct scene where lqr is traumatized by wwx jerking off to thoughts abt lwj. thank you!!

FOUND! Judge Softly by Chrononautical (E, 32k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LXC & LQR, LQR & WWX, Accidental Voyeurism, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Mind Reading, Oblivious WWX, WWX Has Self-Worth Issues, Cloud Recesses, BAMF WWX, Genius WWX, sex makes WWX stupid, LQR Tries, It may be more accurate to say LQR learns to try, Suffering LQR, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Post-Canon Fix-It, mostly web series with a few influences from the broader canon, Ghosts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Teacher LQR Mutual Pining, Longing, Playful Sex, Use Your Words, Canon-Typical Violence, Switching, Virgin WWX, Love Confessions)

~*~

[mayajadewrites]

Could've Been You (Aizawa x Fem! Reader, Hawks x Fem! Reader)

chapter thirteen

I'M BAAAAAAAACK! sorry for the long wait, but I wanted to be sure to provide you guys a good chapter that will help keep the story going. i'm probably going to change this more to aizawa x reader, since keigo has one foot out the door lol I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

✦ story synopsis: You're the new teacher at UA with a rocky past with one of their beloved teachers, Shouta Aizawa aka Eraserhead. You'd rather never see him again but alas, such is life. You also meet Keigo, aka Hawks, who is the opposite of Aizawa. Smiley, golden retriever energy.

✦ chapter content warnings: none

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader

comments are ALWAYS loved and appreciated <3

ao3

TAG LIST:

@come-away-with-me87, @kxshdoll, @evilsanzu, @friendly-neighborhood-turtle, @lili-pond,

@the-unhinged-raccoon @falling4fandoms @cherry-cosmoz @kkgraham @big-denki-energy @aphrodite-xoxo @keiweeny @minminroie @skazewrld @crimsonsaki @@smarty0029 @bokunokamijiro

"She's here, isn't she?"

There he was, Keigo, standing in Aizawa's doorway with a scowl on his face.

You keep your face behind the door, pressing your ear against the door hoping to hear more.

Shota is not one to back down from anything, especially when it comes to you. After all, he waited years to have you.

"And if she is?" Shota crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps pressed against the hardness of his chest.

Keigo looks at Shota, eyeing his stature, as if sizing him up. He puffed up his wings a bit, looking inside the room. "I need to explain to her what happened, that I-"

"You can save it, pretty boy."

"She moved on that quickly, hm? A shame that you had to have my leftovers."

"Leftovers?" Shota's voice got louder, and you can sense the tension in the room. "She isn't a piece of meat. Is that how you think of her? Since you slept with her, you think you own her?"

"I'm just saying - I've had her, and now you have too. I see those bites on your skin, I've had those too."

Shota was starting to get enraged. The thought of you, sleeping with Keigo before him makes his blood boil. No, you weren't together, but in his mind - you're his. He doesn't need a reminder of who's been inside you before.

You pull on a pair of Shota's sweats and a t-shirt, walking out of the bedroom quietly.

Your heart rate increased as you stepped into the living space. If looks could kill, you'd be dead from the look on Keigo's face.

"There's the woman of the hour." Keigo looks at you, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"Keigo, please leave." Your usual strong persona was not present. Your arms are across your chest - you're uncomfortable.

"Not without me explaining myself. You can't just sleep with another dude because I left when you were sleeping."

"Sleeping with Shota wasn't a spur of the moment decision, Keigo. Actually, you were."

His face slightly changed, no longer with a proud smirk on his face.

"I've known Shota since we were in high school. We had a falling out, but he's always been a part of my life, a part of me."

"So our nights together meant nothing, hm? I was just there as a placeholder?"

You sigh, your hand pressing to your forehead. "No, I actually liked you. But when you left me without a word, something in my gut told me to leave you alone. And my gut was right."

Shota is leaning on the doorframe, watching you speak with a slight smirk on his face. Damn, that's my girl.

"I'm not the one for you, and that's okay. You need a woman that will fuel that giant ego of yours. More of a fan girl."

Keigo's face turned a bit red as he looked down at the ground. He's embarrassed, no doubt, but you had no choice.

Without another word, he turned around and walked away. His face was full of... hurt. Possibly embarrassment.

How could she want him instead of me?

His insecurities were starting to seep through his cocky exterior, which made him flee.

Shota closed the door, looking at you once again. He brought his hands to each side of your face, squeezing your cheeks gently as he looks at you. "Look at you standing up for yourself." His voice is soft as he caresses your soft skin.

Your hands wrap around his wrists, looking up at him as you stand on your tippy toes to eliminate any space left between you.

Shota's lips mended with yours, moving slowly as his thumb grazed over your cheek. "Are you sure I'm what you want?"

Your eyes flutter open as you look into his, nodding slowly. "There's no one else for me. Just you."

Months went by as you and Shota rebuilt your relationship. Almost like getting to know each other all over again, this time without the angst.

You basically live in Shota's apartment, yours almost untouched a couple of doors down. You spend your days teaching the next generation of heroes, and at night you belong to Shota.

"Kitten, can you pour me a glass of wine please?" Shota's on the couch, reading the newest novel he picked up from the bookstore.

You nod, finishing washing the dishes and grabbing him a stemless glass, filling the cup with the sweet liquid.

After pouring yourself a glass, you plop down next to him and hand him his.

"Thank you." His lips press against your temple, your body curling next to his as you press your chin to his shoulder.

"Your book looks boring." You sigh, skimming the pages.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to bring up to you." He closed the book, his attention now on you. You straighten your posture as you look at his face - this is definitely serious.

"There have been more villains around. And... I was thinking, you and I could be a part of the team that protects the city. I think both of our quirks would work-"

You freeze. The last time you and Shota fought a villain together, you ended up in a coma. Your friendship with him was done.

Shota could sense your anxiety, and his hands anchored you to him.

"Hey, I'm right here." His voice is soft as he caresses you.

Your whole body felt like it was frozen. Like there was absolutely no way you could move anytime soon. Your anxiety was palpable.

"Shota..."

"There are lives at stake, darling. This isn't a training session. I'm... I'm worried."

You force yourself to look into his eyes, your heart sinking as you watch him.

This might be the beginning of the end.

[la-petite-lapin]

Double the Love | Part One

Double the Love masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x female civilian!OC Word Count: 1.2k Series warnings (may update between chapters): 18+, Minors DNI, angst, death, mentions of violence, injury description, eventual explicit sexual content, polyamory, M/M/F, FMC is bad at feelings

How it all started

I wake up to the first knock.

The apartment is warm, despite the fact that it's the second month into winter, and quiet. Peaceful, even. Winnie is probably already at work. The café doesn't need me for at least another hour.

I turn my head to look at the clock on the nightstand. 8 a.m. I can't think of a single reason why someone would be knocking here so early, so I roll over and try to go back to sleep, thinking that I might've just imagined it. Last night was a long one. I couldn't fall asleep, so I stayed awake watching endless reruns of Friends until - at 3 a.m. - I finally knocked out.

It's times like these, when the insomnia kicks in and I feel completely alone, when I can't wait for Alex to be home.

Alex, my heroic older brother. The SAS soldier always on some mission or other to save the world. He's on another top secret op at the moment, but last time we spoke he said that it looked like they'd be home at the end of the month. The new unit he's been assigned to have been keeping him occupied. He couldn't tell me much on the call, but it sounds like they've welcomed him into the fold with open arms, just like all the other units he's worked with in the past. That and he's still worried about me - something that he's been in a perpetual state of since the dawn of time.

Hopefully he'll be home soon though.

Just as my eyes start to close, there's another knock at the door. This one's more persistent.

Definitely not in my imagination.

I throw the covers to the side, adjusting the hem of the heavy knitted sweater I fell asleep in to make sure that it's people-appropriate, and stepping into my slippers as I make a beeline for the door. I drag my feet out of my bedroom and down the hallway towards the front door.

When I open it, my heart drops into the pit of my stomach.

There's a tall man with light brown hair and a beanie standing out in the hallway. His dark eyes are tired but kind, a thick scruffy beard covering his jawline as he stands there, hands behind his back, feet shoulder-width apart. He takes one look at my slight frame, half-hidden behind the door and closes his eyes, shaking his head with a quiet, "Bloody fucking hell."

I tilt my head to one side, confused. I'm just about to ask him if I know him when he says, "Are you Talia Keller? Alex's sister?"

Just like that, my heart starts thundering inside my ribcage. I reach out to put a hand on the doorframe, knowing that it's all I can do to stop my knees from buckling.

The stranger on my doorstep meets my eyes once again and I can see it.

"Please...no-"

He shakes his head, those kind eyes refusing to shy away from my tear-filled gaze. "It is with deep regret and my upmost sympathy that I am here to inform you of the death of your brother, Operations Officer Alex Keller. He died on active duty, contributing to a rescue mission that, because of his sacrifice, saved a lot of lives." I choke on a sob. "I am so very sorry for your loss."

My vision blurs and the sound that leaves my mouth is horrible. It's a sob, so loud and violent that I almost can't believe I made it. "No," I whimper.

"May I come inside?" the stranger asks, nodding past me at the empty apartment. His hands aren't behind his back now. They're in front of him, palms open like he's placating a wounded animal.

My own sobbing eclipses any other noise in the hallway as I take a few shaky steps back, giving him access to the doorway. He walks inside slowly, like he's giving me time to take the unspoken invitation back. I don't.

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep myself from falling apart. But my brother is dead. My sweet, perfect brother who I'll never see again.

"I- oh god, I'm going to be sick," I manage to choke out, stumbling back until I hit the side of my armchair.

The stranger swoops in then, gently easing me down onto the sofa. I shouldn't let him - shouldn't have let this man into my home. He could be anyone. But he spoke about Alex with the reverence of someone who knew him personally. He must of to be here now, telling me this awful, fucked up news.

I tip forward, my head finding my hands as I cradle myself, my whole body shaking with the effort of not crumbling to the ground.

Alex was all I had left. We were orphans: each other's only living relatives. Now I'm alone.

"Is there anyone I could call for you?" the man asks, his gravelly voice even softer than it was to begin with. I hate his sympathy with a passion, but I don't have the energy to call him on it. "You shouldn't be alone at a time like this. Alex told me that the two of you were very close."

The words bring a fresh wave of pain ripping straight through my heart.

His question reminds me of Winnie. She's already made enough sacrifices for me; I can't pull her away from her work. I don't know what to do. There's no one else I can call. It was Alex and Winnie. Winnie and Alex. No one else.

"Alex was... he was all I had." The words both sound and feel pathetic as they leave my mouth. I lift my head and see that he's watching me, dark eyes far from judgemental. "I can't- I don't know what..."

"Look," he says softly, one large paw of a hand coming to rest on my upper arm, his warmth radiating through the thick cable-knit. "Take a deep breath for me. He wouldn't want this for you."

We sit there for a while as I calm myself down, getting through the worst of hyperventilating. Slowly, the tears come to a weak ebb. A numbness fills me; a disbelief that he's truly gone.

"I know that this is probably the last thing on your mind right now, but we had him cremated. It was written in his file that that's what he wanted. We'll send the ashes and his dog tags to you as per his request." He shifts in the armchair. I can't help but notice just how haunted he looks as he meets my gaze. "My name is Captain Price, but you can call me John. I was your brother's unit commander. You might not want to talk to me right now - might blame me even - and I understand that, but I'll leave my personal phone number here with you. If you ever need anything, anything at all, please call me."

I nod softly, rubbing my knuckles along the undersides of my eyes. "Thank you, John."

He nods once then stands up, the muscles of his thighs straining against the sandy-khaki material of his cargos. Instead of heading straight for the door, he walks across to the desk, opening Winnie's smiley face notepad and writing a number down on the first blank page. His number.

I don't look up when he leaves. The door closes with a soft click and then - just like Alex - he's gone.

a/n: hey guys! hope y'all liked part one. don't worry - you'll meet the guys very soon... sorry if this part was a little bit boring, just want to set the scene before all the good stuff happens 🙃 - see ya soon, lapetitelapin

[justcallmecj]

Alr, unfortunately I am like, 20 minutes late for this but I'm posting it regardless. I made some art of Zarina, my Touchstarved oc, with the Li and I just barely missed the time to have posted them on her birthday.

Anyway, September 6th is Zarina's bday (and mine) so these are a series of Zarina hanging out with our favorite characters and having fun!

Leander:

This one is actually my favorite. I got adventurous and tried some special lighting since this bg is a nigh time one. And, surprisingly enough, it did work! In this image, I totally imagine Zarina being shell shocked at being princess carried, since no ones done this with her since she was a small child.

Kuras:

I loved this base for Zarina and Kuras, but then realized that there are no bg in the game where this will make reasonable sense, so tbh I have no clue what Zarina is pointing at. Sooo, use your imagination! Also, Kuras has such a complex design (they all do) so I'm happy I was able to simplify it while also getting across the same vibe. (pretty proud of that gold on his chest honestly)

Mhin:

Mhin took a bit of time to do. The angle is new to me and was hard to translate their clothing as such, however, I got it in the end. I tried to add that signature red they have in their eyes, like how I do with the emotes I've been doing, but it just didn't look right for some reason. But this is what I ended up with and I'm fine with it (even if they look a tad bit dead inside)

Vere:

Vere is actually the last one I did, finished about 10 minutes ago actually. I had a lot of fun doing him, but to be fair, I have fun drawing Vere all the time. I wish I had the skill/confidence to do those shear parts to his sleeve but I just didn't. Maybe another time. Vere seems to be quite peaceful and content in this art and I'm glad since that was the look I was going for! Also, why are they at the Seaspring? Their waiting for Ais to come back, of course! (Totally not bc there was no other suitable bgs from the game.)

Ais:

And this was the first one I did for this series. I honestly love this one, just like the Leander one, for a different reason. The concept is so fucking funny. I imagine that, bc Zarina is so physically weak and has no combat experience, she gets in a lot of trouble. And while due to plot reasons I can't discuss yet, she would be fine in the end and come out nearly unharmed, the others still step in when they find out. The idea of Ais picking her up like a wet cat to drag her away from trouble tickles the corner of my brain, y'know? And she looks so dejected!

[nobodysdaydreams]

Hatchetverse Crack Theory: In TGWDLM, the homeless man is singing to Paul about another apocalypse he lived through.

I'm sorry to my mutuals for not being up to date on my usual Wolf359 and TMBS content (more is coming I promise), but I recently fell back into Starkid after they released their new musicals, so of course the brain bees™️ gave me some more theories to share with the world (more might be coming, so I apologize in advance).

More details below (spoilers for TGWDLM and Nightmare Time, also I’m just gonna start tagging these “#hatchetverse theory”):

In TGWDLM, Ted as the homeless man sings to Paul during the song "La De Dah Dah Day". The exact verse he sings is: "🎶 I used to want to kill them all while high on bath salt zombie drugs, snacking on a dead man's face 🎶", before leaning into Paul's face.

His verse was played for laughs, and ngl, when I first watched the musical, I was put off by this portrayal of the homeless. However, now that we know from Nightmare Time that the Homeless Man is actually Ted from the future or possibly a version that lives in Tinky's toybox, that does imply that his line might have an alternate meaning.

At first, it seems like the homeless man we see in TGWDLM can't be the Ted from TGWDLM, because that Ted dies during the show and become part of the hive mind (therefore, how can his future self exist as the homeless man in TGWDLM?).

Well, in Nightmare Time, Ted travels back to try to fix the things that have gone wrong in his timeline (he attempts to make things right with Jenny and warn Paul about Emma). He does ultimately fail, but he still tries. Therefore, a version of Ted that lived through an apocalypse would likely attempt go back in time to stop it from happening. The apocalypse in question seems to have involved drugs that turned people into flesh hungry zombie monsters, eventually leading to Ted eating the face of Paul, before snapping out of it and trying to go back in time to stop the apocalypse (which based on how it happens, would likely be caused by Nibbly).

Thus, in TGWDLM, future Ted as the homeless man succeeds in stopping the apocalypse Nibbly was going to cause (an apocalypse where he survives but becomes a zombie for a bit). However, in doing so, he causes or inadvertently allows for Pokey's apocalypse, one where Ted dies and becomes part of the hive mind, erasing the homeless man (future Ted) from existence. Pokey has Ted as the homeless man sing to Paul about an apocalypse where Paul fails to survive as a clever "inside joke" to mock Paul.

I hope you enjoy my unhinged theory Starkid fandom.

[l3viat8an]

Hola Ro 🥰

This is gonna be a mouthful but...

Thinking about Human! College au! Dorm neighbor! Beel and Belphie gets like 5 seconds of this lmao

Oc he's still a big eater but imma tone it*way* down cuz he human.

This bitch is the best cook in the entire dormitory. Like there is no broke college boy here because in addition to his job he sells lunch/dinner plates. They're reasonably priced but he sells so many that his profits are pilin' up Belphie has to help pack and deliver the trays.

Just imagine you move into your new dorm and before you even unpack your first item, there's a soft knock on the door. You open it up and you're honestly surprised at how far back you have to tilt your head to see the smiling face of this ginger. You studder a bit as you greet him and he smiles back warmly. "Hey! I'm Beelzebub, but you can call me Beel. I'm a Junior here" He smiles lifting up a tray "Brought over some lasagna, thought you might enjoy it" Oh! So that's what that gigantic tray he's holding has in it! Accepting the tray with a little smile you swear it weighs like 5 pounds. "Thanks... Uh, Would you like to join me? I couldn't possibly eat this much lasagna alone" He tilts his head slightly "You don't have a dormmate?" You shake you're head in response and Beel frowns a little bit. "I bet that's pretty lonely." He shakes his head and then smiles brightly again. "Well feel free to come by our dorm any time. I'll introduce you to my roommate tomorrow"

Beel comes in and the two of you eat lasagna together on your futon with box tables like a scene from a movie and you're taken aback by how much he eats. The tray of lasagna is finished in just under half an hour and you converse for a bit, complimenting him on his culinary skills and talking about classes and schedules. Eventually, he heads back to his dorm because whatever he was cooking in the pressure cooker is done and he needs to go pack meal trays. You offer to help as a thank you for the lasagna and he accepts joking about Belphie needing his beauty sleep anyways.

This becomes a regular thing for the two of you and Belphie is honestly grateful that his naps no longer need to be cut short. And surprisingly Beel's sales go up because you bring the flavors of your culture to the little business. Eventually it grows so much that Beel can quit his job and expenses are still fully covered.

Cutting to the list part of the hcs lmao

𓆦 Beel who finds himself a bit flustered as mix and chop ingredients, occasionally lifting a little spoon to his lips for him to sample the flavor. Admiring the cute satisfied face you make when tells you the flavor is perfect.

𓆦 Beel who eventually gets bold enough to lick a little bit of batter of your cheek, chuckling as your cheeks turn pink from his actions

𓆦 Beel who buys/makes lots of cream filled treat because he loves how a little bit always spills out of the corners of your mouth when you take too big of a bite. Imagining is his cum spilling out of your mouth instead of just the cream of a pastry

𓆦 Beel who jerks off in his room at 1 in the morning because he can't stop thinking about how your small hands were wrapped around the piping bag as the two of you iced mini cakes together. Wondering what it would be like for them to be wrapped around his cock instead. Belphie eventually knocking on his room door, telling him to be quite because the walls are thin and you can probably hear him from inside your dorm.

𓆦 Belphie who visits you in your dorm asking you to please just fuck Beel already because he has to deal with Beel's horny ass all day, every day.

𓆦 Beel who takes you on a proper date before he even tries to make a move on you because he wants to be a gentleman

My fingers are dead from typing this (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ `)♡

~🍒

Nsfw content MDNI

🍒!!!!!! I have no words oh fuckkkkk-

𓆦 Very silly first thing but Beel who has a poster of Garfield eating lasagna in his kitchen :))

𓆦 Beel who during your date (if you went out for a change) sends a quick texts to Belphie telling him to get out so he can get laid-

𓆦 Beel who is the perfect gentleman throughout your whole date!!! Even asking before he kisses you because he doesn’t want to move too fast…

𓆦 Beel who can’t and won’t stop kissing you after that. The sweet softness fades away into hungry, biting kisses, as he nips at you bottom lip hoping to slip his tongue into your mouth. Only ever braking the kiss long enough to mumble about how good you taste~

𓆦 Beel who tries so hard not to just rail you into next week- he really wants to be gentle and slow…make it feel special for your first time with him…but when you whine and moan like that he can’t help it. Folding you practically in half on the bed and just stuffing you full~

𓆦 Beel who can’t stop telling you how well you’re taking him, how good you feel around his cock…how it’s so much better then he’s imagined and oh fuck- don’t squeeze him like that….he doesn’t want to cum too soon!-

𓆦 Beel who covers your tummy in his cum cuz he’s worried about cumming inside on ‘the first date’ :((

𓆦 Beel who still, after all that, wants to eat you out and have you cum on his tongue…..please? He knows you’re sensitive but it’ll feel good!! He promises!! He would have done it first but he couldn’t wait to feel you around his cock-

𓆦 Beel who carries you into the bathroom to wash the cum off, before taking you back to bed (dressed only in one of his huge t-shirts)

𓃾 Belphie who sneaks in as quietly as he can’t at like 3am….but can’t help peaking into Beel’s room. Seeing your body wrapped around Beel’s, “Good date?” both you and Beel open one eye and whisper back in unison, “Great date..”

[ashtheketchum]

A new family Part 4

A/N: Before we start the new chapter, I wanted to thank you again! I never expected so much feedback, but it makes me incredibly happy. :D <3333 (Picture from Pinterest!)

(H/C) = Your hair colour

Warnings: Mention of death, typical twd content

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Taglist: @in-this-minute @alialiclouds

Masterlist!

__________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

Rick, Glenn, Tdog and Daryl headed back to Atlanta to look for Merle. I didn't really like the idea, but once Daryl had made up his mind about something, you couldn't just talk him out of it. So we let him do that.

"Do you think they'll find Merle, Mom?" (D/N) asked quietly, visibly nervous. Sighing, I shook my head and I looked at her. A sad smile adorns my face. "I don't know…" I then told her. (D/N) had a depressing look on her face. I stroked her head lightly before looking at Daryl, who was packing everything and getting his crossbow ready. I had to suppress a smile for a moment when I saw him quickly put on (D/N)'s necklace.

"Why don't you go and wish Daryl good luck?" I then asked (D/N) as my eyes went back to her. (D/N) looked at me uncertainly for a moment, but then nodded and ran towards Daryl. They spoke briefly before (D/N) just nodded slightly and walked away again. I looked at it briefly, (D/N) didn't seem sad, but not happy either. However, I didn't want to ask Daryl about it because he was already on his way.

<Time Skip>

Lori, Carl, Shane, Dale and the others were all sitting around the campfire together. They talked, ate together and laughed together. However, (D/N) was sitting in our tent and she was staring at the ground. Was she really that worried about Daryl? Because I didn't want to leave her alone, I also stayed in the tent, but I had gotten us food beforehand. "Honey, is everything okay?" I asked her as I took a small bite of my food. (D/N) mumbled under her breath for a moment before shaking her head.

Sighing, I put my plate down and I looked at her worriedly. "What's the matter? I can see it.” (D/N) tensed her hands before shaking her head. "I'm a bad person, Mom…" she then said. Her words surprised me for a moment and at first I thought I had misheard. But this was not the case. My daughter actually said that she was supposedly a bad person. “What makes you think that, honey?” My voice was a little louder than before. "I… I don't want Merle to come back… he's just not good for us…" She then admitted quietly.

Her confession made me sigh. But at the same time, a certain fear was building up inside me. Sure, when children grow up in a world like this, they quickly get used to it, but I still couldn't accept it. My daughter would probably wish Merle dead, whether she wanted to or not.

"But you know he's Daryl's brother…" I then said quietly. (D/N) nodded immediately and picked up her water bottle to take a sip from it. "I know… but I still don't like Merle…" Her words made me smile briefly. "And then what do you want to happen to Merle?" Hopefully I didn't ask this question so obviously that (D/N) would think I trusted her to want someone dead. Actually, I didn't believe that either, but I had to have confirmation. "That maybe he was found by other people and left with them… or he ran away…" (D/N) then murmured quietly.

Her words immediately made me relax and my shoulders slumped. "Oh, honey…" I sighed softly again. I gently pulled her towards me and I hugged her tightly. I ran my hands through her (H/C) hair. "You're not a bad person for hoping that Merle is somewhere else… you just want to feel safe…" I assured her quietly. (D/N) nodded briefly before smiling at me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you Mom…!"

Before I could answer her, we suddenly heard a loud scream. I immediately pushed (D/N) into the tent and I put the blanket over her. "Stay calm! And don’t move…!” I whispered to her before going out and closing the tent again. Then I immediately watched as some of our people were eaten by the walkers. They had made it to the quarry and were attacking us. It had caught Amy and many others.

I quickly grabbed my knife, which I had gotten from Shane, before running over to help them. I stabbed the walkers in the head and pushed a few away so they would leave our people alone. However, out of the corner of my eye I saw a walker at my tent and I immediately heard (D/N) calling for me. She probably thought it was me, but her words only drew the walker closer to the tent. "(D/N)!" I immediately shouted loudly. I ran as fast as I could to my tent to help her, but the walker was already scratching at the tent. (D/N) screamed loudly and cried loudly as I got closer and closer to the walker. On the way I stabbed a few walkers in the head before I was behind the walker.

Before I reached him, however, an arrow was fired and it hit the walker square in the head. Breathing heavily, I looked around as the walker now lay still on the tent. Before I could even find the rescuer, I pulled the walker away and I tore open my tent. "Mom!" (D/N) immediately whimpered loudly and hugged me tightly. She cried into my shoulder as I rubbed her back. "Everything is fine…! I’m with you now…!” I assured her. "Wha´ the hell is goin´ on!?" I heard someone calling.

I turned to the voice and saw Daryl running towards us. He pulled the arrow out of the walker's skull and then looked at me and (D/N). (D/N) was still breathing quickly and clutching my clothes. Daryl understood immediately and grabbed my arm to pull me up. I picked up (D/N) and looked at him confused. “Stay behind me!” He ordered us and started walking.

I followed Daryl as he walked closer and closer to Dale's RV. Sometimes he would check on us to make sure we were okay. (D/N) could now walk on her own, but she still held on to me tightly.

Tdog, Dale, Glenn, Shane, Daryl and Rick looked after the walkers all night long. In the morning everything was destroyed and we took care of these undead. Just a few people got bitten. Glenn and the others agreed that our people should be buried, even if Daryl wasn't happy about it. He wanted to argue again, but I gave him a sharp look and he remained silent. "Stupid idea…" He just mumbled, but more to himself. With a pickaxe, Daryl stabbed the walkers' heads to make sure they really wouldn't get up again. I made (D/N) look away and stay with Carl.

Meanwhile I went to Daryl. Somehow I was nervous, but also very tired, last night was just too much. When I was a few meters away from Daryl, he looked up at me. Sweat ran down his forehead and he looked at me with slightly narrowed eyes. "Wha´?" he asked. His tone actually gave me the reason to leave again. He sounded pissed, but he was probably tired too. And then he had to swing that heavy pickaxe around. "I… wanted to thank you… for saving (D/N) yesterday…" I then murmured quietly.

I looked down uncertainly, but then raised my gaze again because all the walkers were below me. Daryl hummed quietly before continuing to swing his pickaxe. "No prob´…" is all he said. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but I didn't want to force him to tell me. "If you need help, you can ask me…" That's all I said before I walked away.

I could still feel the redneck's gaze on my back, but I ignored it.

PoV Daryl:

Seeing (D/N) and (Y/N) almost die took me a bit by surprise. Even though they were both very annoying, they were mother and child. I sighed quietly before I went back to my work. "The lil´ one and ya r´safe with me…" I then muttered to myself.

Next Chapter ->

[eluxcastar]

Soft Dottore with his cold assistant 👀

── ୨୧：il dottore x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: observation in snezhnaya is always a pain, and it's not out of character for you to underestimate how thick a coat you'll need while outside during the winter

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, more soft dottore content, possibly ooc, I did not proofread a word of this but I noticed I wrote goat once instead of coat sorry if that happens again 😭

୨୧﹑words :: 1072

atp I don't think I can function without fluffy scenarios (send help) I wrote this while David Hobson was allowing Christmas to start with The Holy City (I don't even celebrate Christmas 💀) it's so late rn Merry Christmas Dottore nation ❤️

you hate these kinds of researching days, the dead middle of Snezhnayan winter when the Doctor decides there's an urgent sample he has to collect, something to study, today it's something he simply wants to observe - the functions of an automaton Sandrone had given him to play with. he certainly was fulfilling the 'fun' part of that equation, dragging you out at the break of dawn just to see how this machine works in snowy climates. in his own words, it is to go while the snow is still falling. the early morning hours would provide more time, he could be meticulous without the threat of time and the dastardly sun looming over his head threatening to melt all of his snow.

you expected to stay inside all day considering the cold, not even thinking to grab your good coat as you left home, and now you shiver under only the cover of a coat far too thin for the job. the sky is dark, no sun out to warm you even slightly. that's your only problem with the dark, finding it easy to navigate with Dottore only a few steps ahead of you brimming with confidence in where he's going. you should've known better than to think Dottore would be bothered by the cold. he isn't. he's pointing out things he can already picking up even when you weren't even at the spot he wants to test it.

you're not sure he can notice your shivering as you follow behind him. you wish you were with just about anyone else right about now, preferably one who wouldn't mind you standing close and cuddling up under their hopefully warm coat so that you could warm yourself right up with their body heat.

the Doctor would never allow such silly things, more importantly he'd scold you for your carelessness.

so you carry on until you reach the clearing, no less cold as when you first set out, though you have become somewhat numb to it. it doesn't help you at all. you sit down in a clear spot of snow while he sets his new toy down a small way away. he's fiddling away with that while you're fiddling with your coat, trying to find a way to cover all the cold spots where the air is making your skin prick with goosebumps. it's an impossible task.

your focus shifts at the sound of footsteps, the rustling of fabric coming from the same direction Dottore was in. you look up, thinking the Doctor must be coming to join you only to see him removing his coat. it takes you a moment to process the why and in that moment he's stopped right in front of you, coat bunched in his hands.

"Doctor--"

"You always forget to bring a proper coat." he places his coat over your shoulders, wrapping you quite snugly in it in fact, though you refrain from telling him that as you pull it taut around you in hopes of perhaps gleaning some extra warmth from it. it smells like him. it's like the warm hug you know you will never receive from him.

"Won't you be cold, Doctor?"

"You are on the verge of freezing to death. I'm surprised your teeth don't chatter." he says, a somewhat firm statement that shuts you up by pure accuracy as you didn't expect him to have noticed when you were tucked away just behind him the whole time. "For an assistant working toward the pursuit of knowledge, it makes me wonder how you don't ever learn."

there's a sense of embarrassment that settles in you as silence overwhelms the conversation, finding nothing that you could say in response that would disprove any of that-- inadvertently, you suppose that simply proves what he says. you don't learn. you bury your face in the fur lining of the collar. you recognise this coat as the one he wears to Harbinger meetings, as well as while he's out during the winters. it's quite a thick coat, you realise, perhaps explaining why he would take it out to what was only a field trip by comparison to your usual work.

you feel awkward as he takes a seat by your side, feeling cold in his place even when you're wrapped up in his coat and being practically insulated by it. his lack of covering is a lot more apparent now, sticking out like a sore thumb and it hits you that he likely knew the second he laid eyes on you in only a thin coat not made to withstand harsh winters that you were cold. it was obvious to you now.

as the minutes pass, you begin to realise you aren't staring at the automation like he instructed but at him, a wave of guilt overcoming you and you scoot closer to his side until you feel the warmth that radiates off of him as you part it to reach out for him.

"Doctor--"

"Are you still cold?" he remains unwavering in his focus on that machine, doing something you pay no mind to. whatever it is is mesmerising him, a state you've noticed happens most frequently when things work out, especially if they work out in a particularly interesting way. this looks like things are just working out though.

you shake your head, finding yourself easing back into the comfort his coat provides, "It's better," you add, "the wind isn't so bad."

you feel it again, the guilt that you felt taking his coat. it was the reason you had gotten closer at all. had he noticed that at all? you're hesitant to move again, wondering how-- if he would react if he was to catch you. knowing him he'd ignore it just to toy with you, even when he was watching you the whole time. he's distinctly mean in that way.

"Aren't you cold, Doctor?" you try to ask again, thinking he won't answer like last time. "We'll be out here for some time if it can keep that up." a brief glance to the automaton and you're not sure what exactly it's doing - likely the result of not looking at it for some time - but the way Dottore hums in agreement makes it sound as if he understands the sentiment. you make a good point it seems.

"We'll simply be forced to share it, since you didn't bring a coat of your own, silly little thing."

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

The Price You Pay

Summary: In which he comes home in the dead of night, knuckles bruised and a mind heavy with the need to just forget about all of it for a little while.

Pairing: The Kid/Bobby x afab!Reader

Word Count: -2.1k

Content Warnings: Porn With Feelings…Angsty Feelings 18+!, Unprotected P In V, Rough Sex, Mentions Of Previous Violence, Blood, Sweat, Spit, Emotional Constipation, A Little Spanking, They Are Nasty In Here Your Honor, Slightly Obscure Body Worship, Biting

A/N: I'm sorry y'all have to watch me go insane over Dev Patel in real time ✊🏻😔

Tagging: @ipetite69

The translation to the word "bandar" is monkey :)

I see a bright light waiting at the end of the tunnel

And I might die in the dark, but the pain is part of the struggle

I got my demons at my back but I'm ready to rumble

I found my reason to fight so this time I am the trouble

- Aaj By Bloodywood

Blood. Thick red that turned into a myriad of pitch black splatters against his white shirt underneath pale moonlight dripped from his nose, his bottom lip and from his temple; partially his blood and part from his opponent he had knocked out a meager handful of minutes before.

With every periodic spasm of the quivering muscle inside his chest each molecule and every vein got flooded with a new wash of raging adrenalin, rendering him feral and for the hairs to stand straight at the nape of his neck even though the suffocating humidity in the air drenched his slightly trembling form in sticky and stuffy warmth.

The heat was all surrounding, coming to burn him from the inside out, bouncing back from never cooling pavement and loveless concrete walls to sizzle his skin that was awash with little cuts and gradually forming bruises. His own sweat burned as it trickled into the incisions, making him scrape his teeth across his bottom lip whilst a low gran rumbled through his ribcage.

“Bandar?” Clasping at a tall glass of water, you turned away from the sink and looked over your shoulder to the doorframe, tired eyes tracing the silhouette of your man as he stood like a tall shadow with the bleak light of the hallway in the back.

“Are you alright, love?” Your question was hollow, an act of courtesy since you sensed him being far off the very second you'd put your eyes on him.

The way his shoulder raised and fell again with every brooding and heavy inhale through flaring nostrils, matted curls sticking to the amalgamation of blood, sweat and saliva on his face, told about him having spent too much time in the ring tonight. It happened rarely, however, it did and when he went down like that the endlessly firing neurons in his brain rendered him into something you could barely grasp enough to handle; a shot animal pummeled and beaten into a corner to fend for itself; crying out and biting in the same breath.

He didn't answer you, not with words at least but inevitably the way stepped closer, pupils blown not only to navigate through the darkened kitchen, no, they were flooded with a concoction of hormones that left him in a dizzy haze, bordering on losing his already faint grasp on reality.

“Put that glass down.” That was no recommendation but a demand aimed right at you in a brittle and sore tone, the hue of a choked back plea swinging through the stuffy air that got hardly moved by the fan whirring above the kitchen table.

"What happened? Please, talk to me.” The glass against the wooden counter emitted a dull clank as you put it back down, even shoving it away from you just to be sure.

Instead of an answer, he stepped up to you hastily, squeezing the air from your lungs as he pressed his entire front against your torso, the smell of his sweat, drying blood and a hidden note of honey-scented soap intoxicating you the very moment he leaned in to let hungry lips lap at yours.

You wouldn't even try to push him away, it would've been a losing game, instead, you let it happen, let him palm at your sides, bandaged knuckles grazing over your damp skin as his slender fingers crept underneath your oversized nighttime shirt whilst his tongue pushed into your mouth, roaming over yours and claiming what was his without a single word being uttered.

His need and desperation oozed from every raggedy breath that fell from his lips, offering some sort of understanding that he was quietly begging for you to make him forget about everything for a little while, take his mind off of the trauma dealt and taken and to replace the biting pain in his every aching muscle with the fleeting bliss of release.

Knowing that an orgasm came up to the equivalent of being face to face with a shot of Morphine, it made all the sense in the world to you.

“Bedroom?” The question flitted out of your mouth like an arrow the moment you tore away from him, breathless but already infected with his slightly twisted kind of hunger.

He nodded and allowed you to squeeze from between the counter and his body as shaky steps intended on taking you to the adjoined bedroom. You faltered, stumbled a little as you pulled your shirt above your head whilst walking. After discarding the piece of cloth to the floor, you looked back over your shoulder and for a split second your heart dropped, synapses unsure whether to let you shiver in fear or arousal.

He came pouncing after you like a jaguar on the prowl, movements smooth like the flow of water albeit him wading through endless pits of pain and discomfort as he reached out to shove you, harshly and unyielding.

A shrieked, little yelp rolled over your tongue as he bullied your body onto the thin sheets, head pressed into the pillows face first to muffle you immediately before his flat palm striked down onto your ass, effectively making you jump a little a raise your behind into the thick air, presenting yourself all vulnerable yet wanting.

The knee-jerk reaction earned you another blow, this time to the other side and the spreading sting of pain had your weeping cunt throb around nothing. With perked ears, you listened to a belt buckle being fumbled with and a zipper being torn down with such violence that it ripped at the fabric.

“Fuck!” He hissed under his breath as the tiny metal handle of the zipper cut into his finger as they inevitably slipped off the small rectangle.

For a swift moment, his forehead crinkled into a frown as he eyed his finger, a few droplets of fresh blood pooling around the new incision in just the same way all the others he'd received today had bled and a spontaneous thought crossed his fogged mind. With his gaze never leaving the tiny puddle of red forming on his finger, he stretched it out to let it drip down onto your back before taking the tip of his finger and painting an aggressive streak along the curve of your spine.

The prodding touch of his finger made you lean into it, had you bending your back and wriggling your ass into his lap not knowing whether it was blood or spit he was adorning your skin with and frankly, it didn't even matter to you because just the mental image of it made you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and your eyes flutter shut.

A faint smile ghosted over his lips as he admire his work, bold red against your skin, however, not for long as he leaned in, drilling himself into you in the very same moment as the full flat width of his tongue speared out lap his blood from your back; the taste metallic and salty.

You wanted to move but you couldn't, not being caged underneath him like that, his cock stretching you out without him giving you any time to adjust, you just had to shut up and take what you were given, no more and also nothing less. A wanton groan of yours got muffled by the pillow as he started rutting into you with reckless abandon.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the bedroom and bounced off the walls like the sound itself wanted to humiliate the both of you for fucking one other like filthy animals, clawing and tearing at each other in the chase for a split second of oblivion.

He just wanted to blow his load right into you, just cum for the sake of it and that gnawing need growing in his lower abdomen was contagious because you wanted the same; you just hadn't known it before he'd come after you and shoved you onto the bed.

The way he spearheaded into you, burning his entire light inside of you to the point where it almost hurt rendered you mind dizzy and your body numb to anything but the sensation of getting pounded like a mutt in heat. You felt droplets of sweat flying off his body with every thrust, waist rolling against your ass hard enough for his hip bones to evoke bruises later on.

Sounds, more incoherent noises, spilled out of your mouth into the gentle cloth of the pillow covers, drool following suit until a circular patch had dampened enough for it to stick to your cheek.

The compromised position strained your muscles and yet you felt like ascending each time his rock-hard cock nudged against places you couldn't possibly reach with your fingers, filling you out to the brim and turning your brain to mush.

Your insides clenched down and throbbed around him, pulling him in although there was no way to fuck any deeper into you without actually hurting you. You knew, by the way your legs started tingling in a floaty sensation, that he'd already pushed you past the point of no return, your body starting to rapidly unravel beneath him but you couldn't stretch, couldn't jerk and writhe the way your body wanted to as the first waves of orgasmic bliss rippled through you, not with how he towered over you caging your body underneath his as his teeth sunk into the crook of your neck.

He groaned and huffed against your skin, doubling down into a pace that dragged the air from your lungs lungs whilst he fucked you through your orgasm, leaving your body to shake in overstimulation as he simply continued in this consensual assault until he stiffened up and halted; a guttural scoff falling from his lips and spilling himself inside of you as deep as he possible could.

He collapsed atop of you for a few heavy breaths until he rolled himself off of your back and slumped to the side, chest heaving quickly.

He looked at you, hair clinging to his forehead and his eyes trying to convey something you couldn't exactly tell as your gaze darted back with half of your face still weighing down on the pillow.

“Are you okay? Can I get you your glass of water?” His voice was but a faint whisper, tone oozing with immediate guilt about being so rough with you just to soothe himself.

“That would be nice, yeah.” You mouthed back, flopping down flat onto your belly and taking the chance to finally stretch your legs, knees cracking in protest as you did.

You weren’t exactly sure about what just happened or more the way it had happened. He usually wasn't the one to just fuck you stupid from behind and though you weren't mad about it in the slightest, you wondered what had percisely caused this change of heart tonight. The ring really must've been bad.

“Bandar?”, You called after him through the open doorway as he stood before the fridge, chugging down an entire bottle of water in a few hefty gulps, “What was that you were drawing on my back with?”

He halted immediately and coughed, his mouth pressing down into a thin line as if you'd reminded him about an unpleasant memory.

“That was…blood.” He stated briefly, throwing the empty plastic into the bin before returning with your now lukewarm glass of water.

“Kiny, mister.” You tried loosening him up before you rolled onto your back and leaned against the headboard, taking that glass from him and treating yourself to a much needed sip.

“So, are you going to talk to me about what happened, or?” You placed the half-empty glass atop the nightstand, waving him to come back to bed with you.

“Can that wait until tomorrow?” His question was sincere yet fragile as he eased himself back onto the mattress next to you, his arms reaching out to pull you in close topped off with a peck to your forehead.

“I'm sorry, we shouldn't have…” You could hear the frown forming on his face.

“Issok. But we will talk tomorrow.” Although the heat and humidity were unbearable already on their own, you snuggled up to him, your face resting against his collarbone whilst your fingertips drew shapes and lines along his chest.

“We will. I promise.”

[cowboyemeritus]

Il Suo Campione (Copia/Reader)

Chapter Three

Series Masterlist

Summary: Copia has a meeting with his father while you try your best not to think about him.

Content Warning: implied gang violence, mild sexism (nihil is a gross old man)

Read on AO3

Notes: we’re keeping on with this series! i hope this chapter isn’t too dull; i don’t want to have smut in every installment and needed to establish a few Plot Things, if that makes sense. i didn’t actually have the plot fully planned out when I decided to make this a series, so that will likely bite me in the ass in the future. cooking up some spicy stuff for you all in the next few chapters though. stay tuned ;)

lmk what y'all think about the new header! graphic design is not my passion, so i'm worried it sucks lol.

feedback is always welcome! enjoy, friends!

Copia tugs at the collar of his shirt. It does nothing to relieve the choking feeling that’s been plaguing him all morning. The walk from the car is short, but sweat prickles across his back and under his arms as he climbs the front stairs. He takes a second to compose himself, one final moment of peace before the onslaught to come, staring at the obnoxious goat head knocker. Its square pupils bore into his soul, mocking him. Copia scoffs at the brass monstrosity, finally reaching for the ring between its teeth. It’s almost in his grasp when the door opens, startling him.

“Were you going to stand out here all day?” Psaltarian asks, a look of exasperation already plastered across his aged face. Copia swallows, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

“I was not,” he quips. A beat passes. “Didn’t realize the old guy promoted you to doorman.” Psaltarian rolls his eyes, beckoning Copia to come inside with a wave of his arm. The foyer, as always, smells vaguely of cigar smoke, though today there’s a hint of chemical cleaner as well. The Persian rug at the center of the room catches his eye; it’s clearly new, the colors too rich and bright for this dismal place. On the opposite wall, a framed photo of Copia and his brothers as children hangs askew, the glass cracked. Glancing upwards, he finally notices the man sitting in a chair at the top of the stairs, a large gun laid across his lap. His finger rests on the trigger.

“Shit,” Copia mutters, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on a stand near the door. “What-“ Psaltarian is already halfway down the hall, and Copia has to power-walk to catch up to him. “What happened?”

“An uninvited guest dropped by last night,” he says. “That’s all.”

Copia nods, wringing his hands. He’ll be in a bad mood. As the two pass by the basement door, he can’t help but pick up on the screaming emanating from the dark, musty labyrinth beneath the house. Whoever is down there… He chooses not to dwell on it any further. They’ll get what they deserve.

His father’s office is at the very end of the long, narrow hall. It’s not wide enough for him and Psaltarian to walk side-by-side, so he follows the old bookkeeper quietly. This part of the house has always reminded Copia of a livestock chute, pushing him through to the slaughterhouse at its terminus. Portraits of long-dead Emeritus patriarchs hang on the walls, their attire becoming progressively more antiquated the further he travels. He has never been able to shake the feeling that their eyes follow him, silently passing their judgement. Approaching the door, Copia recalls his words to you the night previous, the false assurance that his father would be pleased by your performance. He realizes now that he said it more to make himself feel better than to praise you.

When they arrive at the door to the office, Psaltarian steps to the side, looking at Copia expectantly. It’s awkward as he squeezes by the older man, turning his body so as to not brush against him. Fighting back a groan, he gingerly raps on the door.

“Yes?” Even through the thick wood, the frustration in Nihil’s voice is evident. Hesitantly, Copia opens the door enough to stick his head in. He finds his father sitting at his antique mahogany desk, hands clasped in front of him and looking at his youngest son disapprovingly.

“Hey, dad.” Copia smiles nervously as he steps into the room. “You’re looking well today.” The old man, unimpressed, scowls.

“Sit down. You are late.” Glancing at the clock on the wall — one of those stupid ones that spins and plays a song every hour — he sees it’s only two minutes past the designated meeting time. Knowing better than to say anything, Copia takes a seat in the rickety wooden chair across from the desk.

“So, eh… What’s up?” Nihil sneers, slamming his hands down on the desktop. Copia jumps a little.

“What is ‘up’ is that you refuse get your head out of your ass and participate in this business. Instead, you go galavanting around like you’re some sort of showman, putting on these silly cat-fights.” Copia is thankful his father is nearly blind, eyes so clouded with cataracts they look ghostly. He’s sure the indignant expression on his face would earn him an additional tongue-lashing.

“I am participating,” he objects, crossing his arms. “People pay good money to watch these fights, and we get a sizable cut of what the bookies make. Our dealers get good business, too; just ask Primo or Secondo.” Despite having intimate knowledge of the Family’s ledgers, Psaltarian, it seems, has been doing him no favors.

“Who wants to watch a bunch of girls fight anyway?” Nihil questions. “They can’t hurt each other like men can.” Copia rolls his eyes. If the geezer could see you fight, he’d know that’s horrifyingly false. “Now, Terzo? He’s got the right idea. He knows what kind of work women are suited for.” Copia cringes, knowing his brother would probably kill the old man for saying that. “You would make some real money if they wore bikinis.”

“Ahi, dad! We are not in the Dark Ages anymore.” Nihil scoffs.

“Don’t try and change the subject. There are serious matters at hand.” His father sighs, worry finally showing on his wrinkled face. “The other Families, they are growing bold.”

“I noticed the remodeling,” Copia says. “Who was it? The Sicilians? The Russians?” Nihil waves him off.

“That is not important right now. The point, son,” something about that word makes his stomach churn, “is that I will not be here forever. When the time comes, I need the assurance that you and your brothers can protect what this family has worked so hard for. As it stands, I am not convinced you have what it takes, not until you start taking this seriously.” Copia is used to this treatment, but the words sting nonetheless. “Would you stop that?” For a moment, he’s confused, but then realizes he’s been bouncing his leg, causing the chair to squeak rhythmically. Copia sighs, stilling himself.

“Look, you may not think so, but I am serious about this. If we want to be able to hold our own against the other Families, we need to diversify.” Nihil still looks skeptical. “These events are only getting more popular, and more lucrative. With the right resources, we can expand the operation; more fights, more often, better venues, more money in our pocket. Believe me, this is worth investing in.” Nihil stokes his chin for a moment, glancing out the window contemplatively. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“Convince your brothers that is the case, and maybe you will convince me. Maybe. This is a business, Copia, not the circus.”

It’s not a no.

“Alright, fine.” Copia rises from his chair. “I’ll do that.” Nihil rolls his eyes.

“Ragazzo testardo,” he mutters. “Proprio come tua madre.” Copia pretends not to hear him, making his way back to the door.

“Lovely to see you, dad,” he says, ready to get the fuck out of there. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” Nihil grunts.

“Yeah, yeah. You as well. And, son?” Copia looks back at his father, his hand on the doorknob. He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think I do not know about that pet of yours — the girl. If you disappoint me, I will see to it that she finds better management.”

Copia’s mood instantly turns.

You wake up late. Copia is already gone, presumably at his meeting. On the coffee table is small plate bearing a blueberry muffin and more ibuprofen. Next to it is a stack of bills, the fifteen hundred dollars you won last night, and a handwritten note. In elegant script, it reads:

Dolcezza,

There’s coffee in the kitchen. Swiss is here and can take you home. You will find the full amount of your earnings here, plus a small bonus from me. Think of it as an expression of gratitude for all that you do.

Excellent work as always, mia tigressa. I will be in touch soon.

XO, C

P.S. Make sure you get some rest!

Fuck that.

After dry-swallowing the pills and absolutely devouring the muffin, you go to the kitchen. Swiss (you don’t know his real name) is sitting at the counter, a newspaper laid out in front of him. He perks up when you enter the room, flashing you a pleasant smile. He’s grown a mustache since the last time you saw him.

“Morning, champ.” You nod at him, awkwardly shuffling over to the cabinet where Copia stores his coffee cups. “Heard you kicked some serious ass last night.”

“I guess so,” you say, pulling out a mug decorated with a map of Florence.

“Bet that nose hurts like hell, though. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“I’m used to it.” Please stop talking to me. You don’t dislike Swiss; you feel the same level of indifference toward him that you do with most people. He’s a decent guy considering his line of work, there’s just something about him being here, knowing you had a “sleepover” with his employer that’s just… ew. Thankfully, he seems to get the memo, returning to his reading as you sip your coffee in painful silence.

Once the caffeine hits, you’re ready to engage with him for real. “Can you take me to the gym, please,” you ask, placing your mug in the sink. Swiss grimaces, the skin around his dark eyes crinkling. He shakes his head.

“Sorry, but no can do. Boss wants me to take you home. Says you need to rest.”

That fucker.

You feel your temper flare, but quickly work to suppress it. Swiss is just doing his job, and you imagine Copia would be pretty displeased if you had it out with one of his guys. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nod, muttering out a quiet “Okay.”

“Alrighty, then.” You don’t think you’ve ever seen him in a bad mood. “If you're ready, let’s get going.” Swiss grabs a pair of keys from a wooden bowl on the counter and heads for the garage. Following him, you're able to catch the headline running across the top of the newspaper.

DRIVE-BY AT THE WHISKEY LEAVES TWO DEAD.

As soon as Swiss leaves, you walk to the gym. You get a few weird looks on the street and end up having to pull down the hood of your sweatshirt to hide your busted-up face, but otherwise, the journey is pleasant. The guys at the gym don’t ask questions, and have learned — some the hard way — to leave you be. Without distractions, it’s easy for you to get into a groove, and you soon find your mind wandering as you go to town on the bag.

Stupid Copia. Stupid Copia and his stupid fucking face. Stupid Copia and-

“Where would I be without you, il mia campionessa?”

Your knuckles are bleeding again.

A handful of hours later, you’re rounding the corner of your apartment building. You took the long way home to, in your mind, spite Copia. Trying to imagine him in place of the punching bag had been unsuccessful, your fist stopping itself a fraction of an inch away. This is as good a substitute as you’ll get, even if he has no idea you’re doing it.

There’s a swarm of pigeons waiting outside the front door. They flock to you as you approach, cooing and fluttering their wings in a frenzy. Your landlord has tried everything to get rid of them, from hanging strings of old CDs to putting up those fake dummy owls. You’re sure you’ll get another notice warning the residents of the building that “anyone caught feeding them will be receive punitive action.” So far, he has yet to suspect you of anything.

“No, no food today.” Wading through the dense sea of birds is a challenge, and you nearly lose your balance trying to avoid stepping on one. Eventually, though, you make it up the stairs to the door, unlock it, and step in, shooing away a particularly bold pigeon that tries to follow you inside. The elevator is always broken, so you take the stairs. They creak with every step. You have a few hours until you need to be at work. A nap, and then maybe a shower seems in order. Anything to distract yourself from the thought of stupid, stupid Copia.

You’re so busy trying to not think about him that when you insert the key into your apartment door, it takes you a second to realize it’s already unlocked.

[brynhildr13]

About the GazettE.

TL;DR I had recent experiences that reinforce my belief that Reita REALLY is still with me and with all of us. Even if they can be easily explained as coincidental. Please if you want, share something that has been helpful to heal. Take care. Gazerock is not dead. Gazerock never dies.

Full post under cut.

I consider myself spiritual, but not really religious. But let me take you through my last few days, if you so care. Its important to me and I want to share this in hopes that the others in this Fandom know that I share the pain and want to spread my own love and solace and peaceful mourning.

I took an hour drive to my twin sister's to have our birthday hangout on Wednesday. I had the GazettE on plus other vkei groups on shuffle, but I kept skipping most of the other groups trying to find the GazettE songs. A few came on and even with the heavy and rock and headbanging songs I was just sobbing. To the point where I told myself, "you have to keep your eyes open. You need to watch the road." But the TEARS were plenty and heavy. I also started to judge myself a little. Wondering why I was SO emotional.

Then I had one of those intuitive downloads where like, you know it didn't come from your own brain and then after you hear it your mind expands. I don't know who's voice it was. I couldn't repeat it if I tried. But it said, quote "but feeling is healing."

And I lost it all over. Because I knew it was right and I needed to sit with the feelings. So I let myself cry as much as I could.

And then, To Dazzling Darkness came on.

My favorite song. Well, one of them. The whole Beautiful Deformity album is iconic, but that song specifically is one of my favorites BECAUSE of Reita's bass part. (Plus my twin sister, with her music degree, thinks the song is well written and can back up why and that means a lot to me that my sister who isn't the most into heavy metal or knows the group near as well as I do likes THEIR songs BECAUSE they're good).

And after that I laughed a little and wiped my eyes and said, "ok. I get it. It has to mean you're here right now. Thank you."

Maybe it came from Reita. I'd like to think so.

Had tons of fun with my sister. Come home. Worked Thursday. That night i shed a tear or two as i watched a few music videos in bed. And i just said outloud and in my head. "As long as he's okay. I'd like a sign that he's okay, please." And i fell asleep. Fast forward to today.

Today's our birthday. I planned to grab my free trenta from Starbies cuz $0 is the only amount I'll pay there unless I'm desperate. When I got to the screen in the drive thru, i meant to order 2 cake pops for my treat. Cuz fuck it. Im desperate. I'm a sad bitch and I want cake. It's my birthday. But I have anxiety and panicked and ended up asking for them at the drive thru window instead.

And they gave me the pops and I waited to hand them my card and after a few seconds she came back up and said, "oh don't worry about them today. No charge." Once I was sure they didn't want my money I thanked them profusely.

And I drove away. And I smiled from inside. Cuz I'd like to think that that was my sign he's okay. Maybe he pulled some strings to make me smile and to say, with that grin on his face, "don't worry about me. I'm here. I'll be here. Have a cake pop you sad bitch."

I meant it when I said before his spirit is here.. there's truly a feeling of the hole in my heart filling a little. I feel like emotionally and spiritually he's here in my peripheral stronger than ever before. Especially because I had become more of a backseat fan that would slink out of the woodwork when they had new content. My "obsession" (hyperfixation) died down a lot after saw them in 2016 and 2019, and I shared my gift of art and they shared their gift of music. But that love and adoration never ever left regardless of how often I talked about it and showed it. Or didn't. Cuz NO ONE else in my every day immediate circle knows anything about them.

Cuz here's the thing, and this is just me, too. I don't have any better way or words to string together to say this other than this way. I KNOW that they don't "know me". Like , I'm not missing the physical presence like they are. I didn't sit with him every day talking about all the most common shared passionate things we're doing, etc. Etc. So I can argue for myself that because of that the burden is likely to not be as heavy as any of theirs. But music and the arts connects hearts and minds beyond the physical. And for me listening to the music keeps him close, and I almost think that I can Feel him when I hear it. I can imagine him putting a hand on my shoulder (with his endearingly weird thumbs, they always made me giggle.)

Idk I think Im getting a little off track. Long story short, he was physically here with me when he was at the shows. When he wasn't he was still there, off across the world, doing his thing. and while I knew that like in an unconscious way, i never really sat with that to be like "what are they doing right this moment" or that i could energetically feel them all at any time, you know? And I remember getting upset with myself cuz my first coherent thought after I metaphorically picked my stomach off the ground after it fell out of my butt was "well, it HAS to be ok cuz the world's still gonna turn." And that felt horrible to say. And that's not fair to me or to anyone who needs time to process this. I mean, YA, I GUESS, it WILL. But once again. This WILL still hurt for a while. And that's okay. That doesn't mean i have to "get over" it right away either. Cuz once again. The physical loss isn't felt (yet) or as heavy as the bandmen will feel. But I will feel. And my feelings are my truth. And i can argue the band itself will have worse grieving till the sun dies, and that still doesn't mean my feelings are literally less than for my own personal experience. And thats okay.

But getting back to the point of this, thinking and believing Reita's making his way to us, I now just have this new vibration around me that I know is spiritual in nature and it is energizing the room, especially when I play their music. He's here.

I keep thinking about The Haunting of Hill House and Nell's words in the last episode. And I don't want that to ever fade. I'm determined to keep him strong in my heart and my mind. Just like ruki said he and the guys would.

Anyways, I hope yall are feeling as okay as you can. I hope this may touch someone and bring more healing. Free to share things in the comments if you want, too.

[whiskey-bumblebee]

I'm On Fire (Chapter 3)

Pairing: DBF!Aaron Hotchner/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2212

A/N: Please note this chapter is not written chronologically, so the time stamps are important! It's written backwards, but meant to be read from the top down.

Warnings: older Hotch/younger reader, cheating, daddy issues, angst, hurt/comfort, non-sexual nudity, dark content (CM-typical violence, murder, death), brief smut

Taglist: @littlepeanut03 @rosaline-black @moonmark98 @yuly @jazzymariexoxoc @frogoko @morgthemagpie @laisy @whoreforhondo

Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?

And can he do to you the things that I do?

Monday, 9.40pm.

You stared at the tiled wall of your shower, counting the droplets. Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six. You shifted your weight slightly, realizing you'd been standing in the same spot for a while. With your new stance, the water streamed over the droplets you'd been counting, effectively clearing the slate. You sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

"What the fuck," You whispered. "What the fuck."

"You've been in there for a while," Aaron said softly. "Do you want me to come in?"

You glanced over at him, him. This man who'd been a part of your life for so long and was now watching as it turned inside out. It wasn't his fault, but falling in love with him hadn't helped. Him. The married man. The FBI agent. A friend of your father.

He kept his gaze firmly on your face, refusing to take advantage of the situation to see your naked body. He did, however, notice that you were wearing a necklace. When he let his eyes dip just enough to see what was hanging from the chain, he pressed his lips together. You were wearing his wedding ring on a chain around your neck.

Mascara was running down your face. You felt like gravity was picking on you, pressing down onto your head, hammering you into the ground like a tent peg.

"I..." You trailed off, cursing the effort it took to get your thoughts in a communicable order. "I can't have sex right now."

Aaron grimaced at the insinuation that he was, in any way, interested in fucking you at this particular moment.

"Not like that," He started, softly, but realizing it would be impossible to communicate what he wanted to.

He kicked off his shoes and socks and opened the shower door, walking in fully dressed. The water quickly saturated his tie and button up, leaving his hair plastered to his forehead. You didn't even have the energy to look down at his pants, but you were sure they were wet too.

He gripped you by the shoulders and switched places with you, so that you were under the stream of the hot water.

Pumping some shower gel into his hands, he rinsed your underarms, holding your hands in his so he could move your arms as needed. When he glanced down at your hands, he took another glob of shower gel and lathered it in his hands, taking care to cover your hands in soap.

"I don't want to wash you, not like this," He said, slowly. "Can you wash yourself?"

You nodded mutely and covered yourself in soap. Your eyes were dead, staring at some non-existent point in the distance.

You collapsed into his arms, resting your head against his shoulder. He sighed and wrapped an arm around your torso, mindful to keep his hand splayed over your back, and not somewhere more suggestive. He ran his hands over your hair, rinsing it slightly. He could shampoo it later, but for now, you seemed too exhausted even to stand.

"C'mon," He said. "I think you should lie down."

A while later, you were dressed in your most comfortable clothes, swaddled in a blanket, lying on the couch, with your head against the armrest. Aaron was on the other side of the couch, sitting very still and very upright.

Something was playing on the television, reruns of some sitcom. It was distracting you well enough. More than anything else, you felt empty.

"I'm going to pick up some food," Aaron said, and moved to stand up, but you lunged suddenly across the couch, grabbing his wrist.

"I'm sorry," You said quickly. "I know I... I should be talking. I'm not fun to be around right now but please, don't leave."

Your sudden movement was startling to him, especially combined with a relatively coherent sentence. It had been almost an hour since you'd spoken a word.

"Aren't you hungry?"

You shook your head. "I just need to lie here and then I need to sleep."

"Are you angry with me?"

You looked at Aaron, puzzled.

"Your body language, not talking..."

You shook your head. "I'm still trying to piece it all together. Could you... could you tell me anything? What happened?"

Aaron shook his head, saying a firm 'no'.

"Are we going to be okay?"

"You're going to be okay," Aaron replied. "I might get into a little bit of trouble."

Monday, 8pm

Aaron pulled the trigger without hesitating.

A quick thought had flicked through his mind; it'll count as self-defense, he's running at me with a knife.

The other man gasped as the bullet made contact. Judging by the breathing sounds, and where the blood was blossoming from, the bullet had likely punctured a lung. He would drown in his own blood.

Aaron took a pulse. Weak. He called for an ambulance, giving the details of the location before running downstairs, into the basement.

There was a girl; wide, panicked eyes. Hands fastened to the chair she was sitting on. She slapped her palms against the armrests, mouth hidden behind a piece of tape.

"I see you," Aaron said. "You're going to be okay."

He made quick work of the duct tape, apologizing profusely as he removed the adhesive from her skin. Judging by the wounds, she'd struggled against the tape for a long time.

"Someone will be here soon, they'll have questions for you," Aaron explained. "You're safe, I'm with the FBI. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore."

"There's another girl," She choked. "In the backyard."

"Stay here," He said.

"No," She said, standing up quickly. "No way in hell."

Hotch sighed. "Alright. There are some remains upstairs. You can close your eyes."

"He was trying to teach me to swim," She said. "He was so obsessed with teaching me to swim..."

He led her up the stairs, and she broke out of his loose grip to kick the man crumpled on the floor. She spat obscenities, tears starting to roll down her face.

Aaron didn't have the heart to stop her, so he glanced over at one of the cops who had just arrived, and they escorted her to the front porch.

"Garcia, you still there?"

"Yes sir," She replied through his earpiece.

"I'm going to check out the backyard. We recovered Amanda. She'll need to be processed by victim services before anything else."

"I'll see to it," She replied. "Poor girl."

Aaron walked out of the back door, making his way to the yard. The space was dominated by an in-ground pool, and he sighed as he saw someone floating, face down.

"There's another victim in the pool," He said to Garcia. "They'll need to dispatch a coroner."

"Is there any chance she's still alive?" Garcia said hopefully.

"No," Aaron replied. "She's been here a while."

Monday, 7pm

"The unsub is using the victims as proxies to live out some sort of fantasy," Reid explained quickly. "That's why they all look so similar and have such similar victimologies."

"Oh my god," Elle replied. "Every time one of them fails, he finds a new one."

Reid picked up a whiteboard marker and started writing frantically.

-painting together

-family photos

-swimming lessons

"Garcia, we need that address," Hotch said firmly.

"Why are the victims so young?" Elle asked, looking at Hotch and Gideon. From the silence that had fallen over the room, she had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

"He's recreating memories with his daughter," Gideon replied. Hotch's mouth set in a hard line.

A week earlier, 2pm.

Aaron's laughter rang out into the room. "You really don't want to know what I did in college. If I'm honest about it, I'll be a terrible rolemodel."

"Please," You said, holding his arm tenderly, looking into his eyes.

"I was high," He whispered conspiratorially. "A lot of the time."

"No!" You exclaimed, face lighting up. "Aaron Hotchner? A secret bad boy?"

"Wait until you see my tattoos," He teased. "I was really into the rock music scene. Most nights I was out until late, following these local bands around, going to their shows. Crime scenes are nothing compared to some of those clubs," He joked.

"Local bands? Like who?"

"You've probably never heard of them," He said, waving his hand. "Local bands from Seattle. Niche."

"Niche?"

"Niche. Like... oh, I don't know. Nirvana."

"Nirvana?!" You said loudly, leaning even closer to him. "Oh my god, you're... cool."

He shook his head, scrunching up his nose. "Hardly. It wasn't cool at the time."

"I bet you were popular with the girls," You nodded at the photo of him on the mantelpiece, a young, flannel-wearing Aaron. Dashingly handsome, albeit in a different way to how he was handsome now.

He shook his head again. "I met Haley in high school. We dated all through college."

"I'm sorry," You said softly. "For both of you. You'd been together for so long. You promise it's nothing to do with me?"

Aaron shrugged slightly. "We have different priorities. She wants a baby, and I want..." He looked over at you, tearing his gaze from the picture on the mantel. "I want you."

You leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips, and he smiled against your lips.

"Are you serious about the tattoos?"

"I only have one," He replied. "Do you want to see it?"

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Don't get your hopes up," He said playfully, pulling off his crewneck and turning around so you could see his back.

You ran your fingers over it.

"What... is it?"

"It was a swallow but it blew out really badly. The artist put the needle way too far into my skin, and I was drunk so my blood was thinner than usual. It healed badly, too. It's a miracle I didn't get some sort of hepatitis."

"Bad boy," You said softly. "Aaron Hotchner, with a tattoo. Who would have known?"

"Moral of the story is don't get tattoos at 3am. Sean has some better ones."

You ran your hands over Aaron's skin, taking in the countless freckles, the soft hair at the base of his spine.

"Your hands are cold," He whispered, and turned around to face you again.

Your faces suddenly felt like they were very close together, and you could have sworn that you felt Aaron's breath on your cheeks.

"Is it inappropriate that I want to..."

"No." He finished, taking your hand in his. "Do you want to see my bedroom?"

"Yeah," You breathed.

Your hands were splayed over his back as he fucked you, filling you in a way you'd never felt before. His breath was ragged in your ear as you pressed your heels into his back, encouraging him.

He groaned, kissing and nipping at your ear and neck. High pitched sounds fell from his lips, and it took you a second to realize he was stuttering over the beginning of a sentence.

"I... I," He breathed. "I wish I'd married you instead. Fuck."

"Me too," You agreed, not being too critical of the thought as it left your lips. Here you were, being fucked into the bed he used to share with his wife. Everything else aside, it would have made life a lot easier if you'd somehow skipped all of the other shit and met him first. If you were older, if he was younger. Your mind was foggy and everything else fell away, leaving you imagining that this had been your bed all along. Husband. Wife.

You scratched long lines into his back, your eyes rolling back at the thought. Sweat dripped down your chest as you breathed heavily, pressing your hips into his.

"Good girl," He groaned. "Taking me like this."

"Aaron," You whined. "Fuck me."

"I am," He hissed through gritted teeth. His determined passion gave way to laughter as he groaned out your name. "I'm fucking you."

For a moment, the preposterousness of it all washed over you. Who'd have known, after a couple of pieces clicking into place, that you'd be here? With him? You couldn't imagine anything feeling more right.

Monday, 10.30pm

Aaron stroked your face tenderly, your head resting in his lap.

He didn't want to ask, but it was eating him up inside not to know. Like a bandaid, he thought. Just ask, then move on. Leave it alone to heal. But first, he needed to know.

"Did your father teach you how to swim?"

"Yeah," You said softly, and Aaron's heart sank. "He tried. I was never as good as he wanted me to be."

The room was silent for a while, and Aaron stroked his hand over your back, watching you watch the sitcom, light flashing over your face in the dark room.

"Are you going to lose your job because you killed him?" You asked quietly.

"I don't know," Aaron sighed. "It depends if they find out that I'm involved with you."

You fiddled with something out of Aaron's eyeline, and rolled over in his lap so that you were looking up at him. You held up his wedding ring, still attached to the chain around your neck.

"It's not over 'til it's over."

He nodded. "I love you."

You sighed. "I love you too."