#(and I want the vibe set before I jump into writing)m

[lausticzt-a]

The difference between during canon and post canon

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I’ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader

WC: 3k (oh!)

Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)

Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 

“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”

Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.

“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”

“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 

He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 

Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 

“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 

Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 

You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 

He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 

He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 

He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 

He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.

He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 

He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 

You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 

The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 

Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 

You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 

You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 

“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 

He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 

“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 

“Am not” 

“Are too”  

Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 

You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 

“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 

You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.

Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 

“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 

“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 

“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 

Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.

You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 

You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 

You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 

The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.

Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?

You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 

You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 

But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?

If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 

That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 

He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 

Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 

His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.

“Jinnie-ah” 

He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 

“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 

His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 

You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 

That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 

“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  

You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”

He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 

“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.

“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 

“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 

“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 

“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 

“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 

“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.

He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 

His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 

He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 

“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 

“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 

“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 

He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  

He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 

“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.

“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 

“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 

“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 

“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 

“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 

That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 

“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 

He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.

“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 

“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[sempsimps]

Gregory violet song scenarios

so this is a bunch of random scenarios and head canons i have of this emo boy and i even made a playlist for it becuse im so prepared for this also i do edit the lyrics a tad to fit the time its set in and vibe of the shorts so like if that bothers you sorry i guess (also i wanted to experiment with the tumbler coloured text i think it looks so cool) but this is mostly x reader so sorry if that's not what you want im just brain rotting at this point i cant do this lmao also i would like to say i unfortunately dont have the manga so i actually dont know whats going to happen sorry

starting with the honourable runner ups i think these songs fit but i couldn't think of what to write for them

Necromancing dancing - bear ghost (pun intended) "when im necromancing, everyone's dancing, no one can stop me i dare you to try! the dead are infused with sentential grove"

i don't wanna fall in love - she wants revenge

ramblings of a lunatic - bears in trees "would anybody listen to this the ramblings of a lunatic"

everything is temporary - cavetown "sticks and stones they say that we dont have bones inside our brains"

mamas boy - Dominic fike "m-a-m-a-b-o-y mamas boy mamas boy"

im not a cynic - Alec Benjamin "i swear im not a cynic im just being realistic"

cats - the living tombstone "meow meow meow meow memeow"

they/them - atlas, jhfly

house of wolves - my chemical romance

plucked - destroy boys "take a bird from the sky and you wonder why she wants to fly"

nobody - mitski

underachiever - NOAHFINNCE "nothing beats the life of an underachiever"

the adults are talking - the strocks "dont go there you never return and i know you think of me when you think of her"

(lowkey heathers the musical JD looking ass)

WARNING ANGST IS HERE

your stupid face - Kaden macay (oh no + verse 2)

Gregory in third person pov - the realisation he liked you

he was zoning out at the swan gazebo and drawing some sketches with his charcoal pencil. The first bit of the facial anatomy was done, and he used French bread to remove the lines. to make the face he slowly did the eyes and made them defined and full of life, the nose features, and soon enough he had nearly finished carefully doing each strand of hair falling perfectly around the face he wasn't even thinking about who it was but when he stopped to finally look at it realised who it was. 'Oh no,' looking at it more, he tilts his head back, closing his eyes shut to not let the sun make him dizzy. 'noooo' now he was roughly pressing the charcoal to the paper. 'i just really like you face' drawing the smile you always wore around him. 'Ugh, you don't have to look so happy..' he kept drawing, now to try and get it just right. remembering all the times you expressed it. 'im not really into the love that you flaunt in some bright font' smirking to himself 'but if that's what you want ill make it snappy.- wait what' he looked around noticing no one was looking at him he sighed 'i just feel so out of place' he finished your face. 'but not when you near me' moving on to the shoulders. 'when your gone, I'm like a plant with no root' he made quick work of the shape and made the clothes 'or a ball that's on mute' he smiled looking at his work 'don't you dare call me cute, you should fear me' a hand on Gregory's shoulder makes him jump, it was bluewer telling him he needs to sort out a purple house conflict, and to bring cheslock to sort out a fight. sighing and carefully putting his sketch away, a small smile on his soft features. 'Now i like your stupid face'.

soundproof - destroy boys (verse 1 before chorus)

panic attack from social anxiety (if uncomfortable then skip it) - he got amongst the dancing and hated it

it was after the big cricket game that he had to be there for appearances, empty streets are just as soundproof as studios and big crowds. and there were people dancing already. It was making him dizzy, just looking. 'keep me away from here' but when he somehow ends up in the middle of the hall he starts to panic 'how'd i appear on this stage' he was amongst all the dancers getting in the way of some getting bumped into. 'im taking up too much space.' his head was spinning from all the movement, and he felt eyes on him. 'Look away, please don't look this way.' Feeling a hand on his arm leading him out of the hall, too dizzy and unfocused to see they walked outdoors, the fresh air bringing him back down to earth. not sure who it was, but he thanked whoever it was as he started to calm down, taking deep breaths. 'i don't ever want to hear myself ever again'

disco! in the panic room - bug hunter (chorus 2)

in your pov third person - dancing again i dont know im losing the plot as i write. sorry to the amab readers this one this feminine

i was in disguise at the school, as ceils older brother, as I saw him as one. and missed being in a dress. so after the cricket game was announced, and shown it was underway, i went behind the door to get into a dress. i was hiding one underneath my cloak, i let the dress fall from the purple robe it set nicely, and i just simply wrapped the fabric around my waist, like a bow. and headed out to find Gregory, he was still upset about the fire, and wanted to leave as fast as he could. and i understood, but i wanted to dance with him just a little. He was just out of view of everyone trying to leave, and i pulled him into a room with a bright smile. "hiya, would you like to dance in the panic room violet?" He simply smiled. "I made a promise so sure." he held my hands, and i started to slowly waltzes in a random backroom. away from the crowed and prying eyes and i could see that every few movement he was getting more and more pale, as we turned slightly in the dance "Now I feel nauseous, As if I drank a cup of stuff you clean your countertops with" i giggle a little as we stop. he lets go of my hands, to hold his head, he feels dizzy but i come prepared knowing about this, with some water in a canteen. "you probably did But Lysol won't solve this, so have some water." i handed his the medium sized flask, to which he hesitantly took a sip with shaky hands. "im out of options, arnt i?" he softly smiled after a few moments, and i was satisfied to get a little dance. making sure he was okay. but i felt bad. "you can head back now i understand this was a lot, sorry" he sighed "oh its okay and thank you, It's past my bedtime and I'm honestly exhausted" i smile as he hands back my water flask. "But if you want me, I'll be here." Gregory and i walked out of the room and said out good nights before he went wherever, and i returned to the ballroom to see Elizabeth and everyone.

fire on fire - sam smith (chorus 1 like half of it)

Gregory pov - looking at you from outside the purple house fire (and i realise that the song is more about love but i want the angst so deal with it)

i stood there, my eyes filled in fear, as the boarding house burned. i couldn't move, I don't say a word stuck in place, you grab my hand i should be used to it, But still, you take my breath and steal the things I know. just like the fire that i couldn't look away from, a soft hand leading my face away to look at you. There you go, saving me from out of the cold, but i couldn't do anything. but blankly stare at you. tired and scared features, eyes slowly morphing to cry. Fire on fire would normally kill us, and this was on the inside. i was breaking down as i saw how distraught everyone was. I couldn't keep it in much longer. but then the other prefects showed up, and i didn't have time for it, so i pulled my hood up to hold it in, letting go of your hand to do something.

Love me not - eimi (verse 3?)

the part that's always on TikTok but it is a good song- anyway this is at the dating stage and you try to get help from your friends idfk

Sitting on the grass, in front of the bench in the middle of a courtyard, talking with Ciel, soma, and your best friend, the latter two interested in how the relationship was going with Gregory. so far all you could describe it as was confusing, when they asked how. you stood up and started pacing in front of them finger to your chin like how a detective dose it but moving to act out and get you point across better. "Does he really love me? Does he think I'm too much." My pacing stops as i shook my head and returned to walk around. "Am I hanging by a string? Am I pushing my luck?" I looked at the two with confusion, hands out, doing some gesture. they were still intrigued, and i just wanted an answer. "He says I'm his beloved. He says I'm enough. but every time I kick and scream, he tells me to shush!" waving your arms up and down in frustration, and at this, the friends pay more attention. shock on soma's face, making an o shape. "He told you to what!" My best friend joining in, equally surprised. "he told you to, huh!" Ciel bored of our shit huffed out a sigh before speaking. "I think you shouldn't really worry. and you're blowing this up," and I hastily replied, almost yelling. "But I'm falling in love! Does he wanna break up!?" I gripped the hood of my purple house uniform, pulling it over my face, which was red in embarrassment, and I felt some paper in there. taking it off my head a small envelope fell out of my hood, it had a clear purple wax seal with the house cress. 'That wasn't there before'

absence - Rio Romeo chorus + verse 3

Gregory in third person this is angsty, and sad. description of dying

he was thinking about what was going to happen all the experiments, but he unwillingly took part in. he couldn't shake it a feeling of impending doom. he knew the things he did, and that didn't warrant him to be sorry for himself, but he couldn't eat or sleep, even drinking something seemed impossible. then his thoughts came back to his friends. He couldn't stop thinking about how they would react, to him dying. 'If i just vanished, do you think you'd manage' laying in his bed contemplating how you would miss him. 'Or would you disappear right besides me?' A tear came into his eye. As he continued to think of you, how would you react to what he's done, more and more tears came out, little by little. 'Do you think you're ready? When i went unsteady,' his tears ran down his checks, smearing the eyeliner. 'lover, please prepare for my absence.' he stifled his cries with the ball of his palm, keeping it in. lipstick smearing on his hand as he bit down harder, more tears rolling down, landing on his pillows staining them. 'absence makes the heart grow stronger', wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. 'pray my baby will not squander everything to gain by my leaving' taking his hands away from his face, to look at them they shook, as he starred at them blurry vision from crying, the bite mark on his right one blending red. 'and if i return the favour.' thinking to all the sweet parts you shared together. 'pray my baby always saviour, every moment we were both present' sitting up to hunch over head in his hands quietly sobbing, the walls were thick and he knew it but it hurt to cry louder.

oh boy that took some effort i was going to so many more but i just cant but i do kinda love what i did i think it matches his character well I hope it matches at least and again here is a link to my playlist i hope it works if not i have the same name on Spotify but non the less i hope my writing doesn't suck :) (feeling like the Q.A from welcome home "I want it out open open open" lmao MAYBE IM A LITTLE DELULU RN WHO KNOWS) ALSO ive never written angst before so i hope that was good idfk

https://spotify.link/tg5qbp9ZgJb

[admirxation]

˗ˏˋ admirxation's weekly fic recs ´ˎ˗

!! dark content ahead, material in this post is intended for 18+ viewers, please read the warnings the authors have provided, and continue at your own discretion !!

(2nd week) 12th May '24: after the first post of my weekly recommendations, it's safe to say that I will continue these for my own bookmarks and give some more authors love. I just wanted to make some notes that I will be a / before the username since I will have repeats of certain authors, and I don't want to bombard or bother them with a Sunday tag; my aim is to show love and appreciation, not flood someone's inbox with tags haha & plus there is a link to their work so u already know the author. ALSO feel free to comment down some more recommendations so I and other people can look at other fics, thank you. // p.s this is a shorter week, i’ve had to study for exams and i’ve been a bit obsessed with AI bots lmao <3

Resident Evil Recommendations

Denim [NSFW] {re4r!leon kennedy x fem!reader} ~ the reader's boyfriend comes home from an assignment still wearing his gear with a pair of jeans that were given to him by the reader; the sight drives the reader wild.

this was written by @/gigabyte-flare // omg how much I've missed their writings, I love their account sm and gotta say I am a big fangirl of their writing. this is a quick oneshot if anyone’s looking for a quick fix and ugh it hit the right spot. i’m sorry but leon in jeans YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM. i really love the domestic kinda vibes to fics like the established relationship and couple sex, i literally melt whenever i read them, especially when u have such an amazing writer like pixel setting the scene.

never penelope, always calypso [NSFW] {leon kennedy x reader} ~ Leon is married to Ashley and they have an open relationship which the reader gets involved with

this was written by @/miss-oranje-disco-dancer // first of all, the odyssey reference ATE, this was my favourite book in my first year of my degree, it was the book that kept me going in my degree after i was about to quit so whenever i hear anything about it i just eat it up. i love the progression of this narrative, the way it all starts as just casual, and loved the bit where the reader doesn’t want to be involved with cheating so she makes sure, such a small detail but i loved it. and honestly i could feel the way the readers heart ache as the story continued, even though ashley as a wife is distant within this fic the idea of her and what leon has with her is so well written, that dynamic of the wife and the yearned was excellent. i love this writer like, im beyond jealous of their writing style i wish i was that talented.

Crave [NSFW] {Las Plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ soft loving sex with las plagas leon

this was written by @/belovedcloud . y’all know i love me some las plagas leon and omfg the things this fic did to me, I AM S C R E A M I N G AHHHHH. i loved the way the writer introduced him coming back and how he needs the reader, the writing of him craving was very well down, and very hot, one of my fav las plagas fics

daddy’s girl [NSFW] Step-dad!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ readers birthday and her father doesn’t turn up but her step father is there.

this was written by @/barleyo // AHAIDOCJSSJSOXJ ughhhh the line “let daddy love you” made me bang my head on the walls while i jumped like a spider on them, I AM GOING FERAL FOR THIS. honestly i loved the dynamic of being shocked at him leaning in for a kiss, and the description of it being wrong but just having to indulge like ummmpppthhh this was so well written, im glad i found this blog.

Jujutsu Kaisen Recommendations

surprise [NSFW] {Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader and established relationship with satoru gojo x reader} ~ Satoru comes home early to surprise his wife, but ends up surprised in seeing who she is with.

this was written by @/lemonlover1110 // i’m a toji and gojo girlie so having them both in a fic is ahehehehe im foaming at the mouth. IT WAS SO FUCKING HOT. like i felt sorry for gojo but ugh he’s such a little pervert and i love it, and the toji’s cocky personality with calling it out was *chefs kiss*. brb gonna curl myself up in a corner and go F E R E L.

the sorcerer killer [NSFW] {Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ Toji is hired to kill a woman but he finds her so beautiful that he needs to have some fun with her first.

this was written by @/lemonlover110 // oh look more Toji fics, we're not surprised nor mad because Toji is a need omfg i love him. i loved this oneshot, and ugh the flirting when he first sees the reader, and omfg the ending literally has me on all fours barking for him, ahh this blog is one of my literal favourites, especially with the Toji fics. all Toji girls must go to this blog and give them some love hehe

12:34am [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ blindfold play

this was written by @/chuluoyi // ugh i this was so good, blindfold fics are so hot, i love the blindfolding play, and the way the author described the sensation was just so well written. another one of my fav jjk blogs, i have loads of their works already in my ‘to read’ which i am trying to read through.

[marieshyperf1xations]

I'm insane (you know this already), so I come with three questions instead of one 😌

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Whatever way you do it works wonders, btw, I will never stop praising every word you write

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

Context for this question: I can't title for shit, so do you just stick to recurring theme in the writing any music you're taking inspo from?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Because I can totally draft up an entire secondary school type essay on your writing, but I'd like your two cents on it too

Also, say the word, and I will draft up that story analysis essay 🩶

ARGHHHH, M, you may be insane but in the best way possible, I love you to the moon and back <3

About the questions:

I'd say I mostly write out of order, or at least I did for my first bigger project, but with the shorter stuff (of which i've done a bit more recently) there's not that much jumping around room

Oh gosh, I'm terrible with titles. And you're pretty much spot on, I either take a line from a song that inspired me or I end up flailing around looking for a song that matches the vibe and using a line from there. Also still hammered into my brain from school days, the title always comes last.

As for patterns in my fics, I'm not too sure. I have the tendency to write slightly unnecessarily long sentences sometimes, I tend to overuse the word "absolutely" (at least in text messages, and I think that shows in my fics as well?) and I'm pretty sure there's the occasional odd phrasing in there (english as a second language and stuff), but other than that... And I love writing Lando, so any excuse to feature him, maybe that's a pattern in a way too?

If you want to tell me what you noticed, I'd be really curious, but please don't go out of your way for it^^

Anyways, thank you so so much for the ask, I absolutely adore you <3

[mikaharuka]

Somehow, I don't really feel like writing today.

But fear not - I can make myself useful. That's right - Prithvi has three chapters after all and I'm in the middle of writing the second, Chandra/moon. I can just start editing the first chapter, Surya/sun. I have to do it eventually, so why not on a day when the writing mood doesn't exist? I also have to plot out Nakshatra/star - you know the T-rated Gen part of Prithvi, that is the third chapter?

Now that I think about it, my setup is hilarious. For each element:

Surya (sun) - T-rated, maybe mild-M at best, pre-slash Gen-ish stuff that is about world exploration and figuring out the dream part

Chandra (moon) - The E-rated, kinky, explicit smut that deserves all the tags and warnings I'm eventually going to slap on this thing

Nakshatra (star) - T-rated, maybe mild-M at best, Gen in all chapters except for one which is very light pre-slash between the asexual pair.

...

Like what is with this hilarious set-up? It almost feels like bait and switch, since the tags and warnings only apply to 6/18 chapters in the end. But only almost, because those 6 chapters are... fire.

No seriously. Those 6 chapters are going to break some records here.

Actually, it's also kind of a practical set-up. In theory, someone who doesn't like smut or want to read it could very well read the Surya phase to get the vibe of the dream before anything happened, then skip Chandra and jump to Nakshatra for real-life plot stuff.

And the smut lovers can reread Chandra phases however much like...

Huh, maybe I am an accidental genius at times?

[highkingpetermagnificent]

Dear Yuletide Writer:

First off, I want to say thank you for writing me a story! This is such a fun challenge, and I'm looking forward to whatever you write. I know I'll love it, so don't stress too much! :)

I want to include a list of tropes I like, tropes I don't like, definite DNWs, and then individual blurbs about each fandom I've requested. Just as an overall note, I'd like for the fic to be a G or T rating - I have nothing against pwp (porn without plot) fic, that's just not what I'm looking for from Yuletide. :) If it is M in the way that doesn't involve sex, that would be okay, but I'd rather stick with a G or T if that jives with your vision.

Also, just because I've given an idea doesn't mean you have to write it! It's just a prompt, feel free to take them or leave them.

(I've never written a Yuletide letter before, so bear with me!)

Tropes I like:

Only one bed - when two people have to share a bed, it's the perfect opportunity for awkwardness, intimacy, and the general sharing of feelings. Good stuff!

Mistaken for a couple - when two people who like each other and aren't sure if the other does, it's fun when someone reads the vibes and makes the assumption.

Modern AUs of fantasy worlds, keeping the magic - there's something that really makes my brain buzz of modern aus of fantasy but they're still elves, or they're still dragons, or they can still cast spells. (Do note that I still love canon fics. Don't feel like you HAVE to write a modern au!)

Noble sacrifices - risking harm or death for someone else

Slice of life - especially if it's slice of life after the story concludes. But I love any and all slice of life.

Tropes I'm not huge on:

Soulmarks - any flavor of this. matching soulmarks, eyes that change color when you see your soulmate, first words on your wrist, etc etc

Modern AUs of fantasy worlds with no magic

Hogwarts/magical school AUs

Next gen fic

Werewolf AUs

DNWs:

please no spiders. I am afraid of spiders! I know some of these canons involve spiders, and I just ask that we avoid depiction of them here.

no explicitly shown/depictions of rape

incest, even in the background

no characters trying to commit suicide by jumping off a bridge

* * *

苍兰诀 | Love Between Fairy and Devil (TV)

Requested characters: Shangque, Jieli

I Love Them. Shangque is my favorite character in the drama in general - the combination of being very good at his job (being a dragon General, protecting the Moon Supreme) + good heart + some romance-related ineptitude makes for just a fantastic character, in my opinion. I know the fandom likes to call him a himbo, and he has his clueless moments, but the juxtaposition of the competence plus cluelessness is something I find fun. And he's sweet. :)

Jieli is such a fantastic counterpart to him - she's got a heart of gold, but circumstances have forced her to put up walls all around it. She's constantly lying, constantly trying to work behind the scenes to get herself ahead. And yet she does care -- she thinks it would be easier if she had no friends and cared for nobody, but the fact remains that she does care. Together, they make my brain go brr!

Ideas: Seeing them working together to accomplish a goal would be fun, or forcing Jieli to actually speak about her feelings. (Shangque confessing his feelings and forcing her to confront that would be fun too!) An angst-y fic set during the time they're apart late in the show is an idea. Another idea could be a fic set during the years Xiao Lanhua/Xiyun is waiting for Dongfang Qingcang to be reborn. How do they progress their relationship? I'm also down for other characters to be included in this fic, as long as the focus is on the two of them.

Pellinor - Alison Croggon

Requested characters: Maerad of Pellinor

The Books of Pellinor were my biggest book love growing up. The sense of vastness in the story, the wonderful characters, the lavish and evocative prose. Even when I reread it as an adult, it still holds up, in my opinion.

Maerad is the heart of the books. I love the journey she goes through, physically and emotionally. I love the real opening up and growth of her character. She feels like a real person, who is irrevocably changed by the end of the series. Yet though she goes through much, she never gives in completely to despair, and ends the series laughing and content. It's such a cathartic arc.

Ideas: I would love some epilogue fic for her, especially if it involves another character. Cadvan is a big one, but I would also love Hem, Silvia, Saliman, even Hekibel! (Especially Hekibel - I loved the frank conversation Maerad and Hekibel had in The Singing, and wished we'd had more of that. I felt like it was so refreshing to see Maerad interact with another woman, especially one who wasn't a Bard and had that very very human perspective.) Maerad/Cadvan is a ship I adore, so if you want to write that, I'd love that.

Ever - Gail Carson Levine

Requested characters: Kezi, Olus

I feel like this book is a dark horse when it comes to Gail Carson Levine's work. When I first read it as a tween, I honestly didn't care for it, but now as an adult, it really compels me. It feels like that quote that's "the gods have not been kind to us, but we rise to meet the stars anyway." I like the hope in the face of hopelessness about it.

Ideas: I'll admit that it's been a while since I've read this, so I'm really open for anything. I do think something that would be cool would be to switch POVs of certain scenes. I know the book does that to an extent, but it would be cool to take it even further, switching between the two characters or even to an outsider POV.

Wars of the Roses RPF

Requested characters: Marguerite d'Anjou | Margaret of Anjou (Wars of the Roses)

The Wars of the Roses is currently my historical fixation, and especially so its queens. I recently read Helen Maurer's excellent biography of Margaret of Anjou, and something that really struck me was how hard Margaret was working to both preserve the role of the English Queen and keep the monarchy intact while her husband was incapacitated. Because the Queen was always expected to be acting on her husband's behalf, she couldn't really... both take charge and yet be acting under supposed direction. But she still grabbed that challenge with both hands and really rose to the occasion, in my opinion, even to the point of taking on the war-laden parts of English Kingship. England had had warrior-queens before (Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians and Empress Matilda come to mind on first thought,) but this was incredibly late in the medieval period, and England had never been used to queens taking on this martial of an aspect before, in my opinion. I have an enormous amount of respect and admiration for her. She took an awful situation and really threw herself into making it work.

Ideas: She's somewhat enigmatic simply by virtue of the historical record being so far distant, but we do have a fair few of her letters, and one can get an idea of a very smart politically, a bit forceful woman. I'd love to explore the emotional side of her, perhaps during the periods when Henry VI was ill and she had to ensure both his, hers, and Prince Edward's safety. Another idea would be to explore her interactions with Anne Neville, simply because Anne Neville is another one of my historical blorbos and I would love that. Or Elizabeth Woodville! (Another blorbo. xD) Or delving into her relationship with Henry! Basically, I would really love something that put the focus on her emotional state and/or her relationships with others.

The Lord of the Rings Online

Requested characters: Candaith

LOTRO is my biggest most delightful discovery for the past few years. Best Lord of the Rings game, hands-down. It takes what's wonderful about the books and really runs with it -- I love the overarching theme of how people want to help each other, and generally they will try to do so as best as they can. And it's just so fun! Best adaptation of the Lord of the Rings, frankly.

And Candaith 😭 I love him. I love the tragedy of him, and I love the hope of him. The vision of him at the Fords never fails to make me cry. I feel like he's the first Ranger the player character really gets to know - there's other rangers in Bree-land, but it's always felt to me like I'm just running errands for them when we meet them first, and not actually getting to know them. (At first! I love Saeradan later, especially. But at first, I didn't really feel like we were friends.)

Ideas: How did he get the Weathertop posting? How did he interact with the others in the Lone Lands? How did he feel about his fellow Rangers, and did he have any special relationships with any of them? Did he ever get lonely for them? Was he ever at Annúminas, and how did he feel about it? Did he really think the restoration of the King was going to happen in his lifetime? Alternately: definitely not opposed to a fix-it of the whole Ring of Bebarahir situation.

* * *

Thank you so much! Happy Yuletide! I know I'll love the fic, so don't stress too much, and remember that you don't have to follow any of the prompts if they don't speak to you. :) Have fun writing! Thank you again!

[shadowofchwe]

(3...2...1...) domino | vernon chwe

Turns out stealing your best friend’s food wasn’t the best idea. Especially when said best friend has recently gotten much stronger and faster than you. The consequences of something so simple set off a domino effect, and before you know it you’re both falling into something faster than you ever thought possible.

🧡 Pairing: bestfriend!vernon x reader

🧡 Word Count: 5.1k

🧡 Genre: Best friends to lovers, fluff, smut

🧡 Rating: 18+

🧡 Warnings: Explicit language, Vernon doesn't like having his food stolen 😤, a friendly game of chase, playful rough housing, a one sided pillow fight (oof @ Vernon), lots of ✨tension✨, teasing, strength kink because Vern has been working out, explicit sexual content, making out, hair pulling, biting/marking/scratching, groping, name kink (@ Vern 🤩), whiny and needy Vernon but also he has low low key dom vibes at times, reader is a bit of a brat at times, dirty talk, praise, multiple consent check ins we love to see it 🥰, fingering, rough fingering, slight overstimulation, cum eating, more banter/teasing, oral (m receiving), deep throating, rough face fucking, it's playful and cute again at the end

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked the teaser and has been patiently waiting for this 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy it if you do decide to read it 🥺 Please look forward to more from me soon and thank you for all your love and support 😭😭💕💕

Masterlist

Taglist: @chwebychew @smuchsmut @romromthedeer

There were two things you were absolutely sure of.

One. You and Vernon were always going to be best friends.

And two. Never steal said best friend’s food unless you wanted to pay for it with your life.

However, there was an exception to the second thing. Stealing his food without getting caught. You had to time it just right though, and your window of opportunity was rapidly closing. Your best friend had just left your room to use the bathroom down the hall, leaving his enticing plate of dumplings completely unattended.

Had Vernon offered to get something for you when you had picked up food earlier? Yes. Had you been hungry then? No. Were you now starving and regretting your decision and contemplating an even riskier one? Unfortunately, yes. Fuck. He was gonna kill you. But only if you got caught.

You glanced down the hallway one more time, and saw no sign of your friend. With a somewhat already guilty conscience, you swiped one of the dumplings off his plate and quickly stuffed it into your mouth. You had just barely started to stressfully chew when, “I know you did not just do that.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, sheepishly turning around to face Vernon. He was standing in your open doorway with his black tee and jeans, arms crossed and a questioning brow raised at you. So much for not getting fucking caught. You tried to mumble out an embarrassed apology, but your mouth was still full so it just sounded like garbled nonsense.

“Okay, swallow. And then I’m gonna kill you.” Vernon said simply as you internally cursed yourself to hell and back.

You swear you had never chewed and swallowed something so fast in your life.

“Nonie, I’m sorry. I got hungry, and they smelled so good. Will you forgive me, pretty please?” you begged sweetly, flashing him your best “I’m sorry” puppy dog eyes.

Vernon’s expression was literally unreadable right now. Yeah, that didn’t seem like a great sign.

“I will give you a ten second head start.”

You stared at him in confusion, “Head start for what?”

“To run.”

You let out a nervous laugh, your best friend’s features still unchanging.

“You’re joking right?”

“One.”

“Vernon, please, we are two grown adults.”

“Two.”

“C’mon, Nonie, this is ridiculous.”

“Three.”

You had never seen him look so serious about something in the entire time you’d known him. Over a fucking dumpling. Your best friend was fast though, and here you were still standing there wasting precious seconds.

“Vernon.”

One last ditch effort.

“Four.”

“Fuck!” you exclaimed before finally pushing past him to run out of the room.

There was no fucking way that man had finished counting to ten because you heard his footsteps bounding after you a moment later.

“You fucking cheater!” you yelled back at him as you raced into the living room.

“What can I say? You’re a thief, and I count fast.” he replied nonchalantly, and you quickly dashed behind the couch to put a barrier between the two of you.

You groaned, “This is a little drastic for a dumpling, don’t you think?”

Your best friend shrugged in response.

“You know how I feel about food.”

“So, you’re really gonna chase me around the house like we’re little kids? All because I ate one, ONE, of your dumplings?!” you asked incredulously, eyes darting around the room to look for an opening to escape.

“You could just stop running. We both know I’m gonna catch you regardless.”

There was a smugness to his tone, and the challenge in his eyes ignited something in you. An overwhelming desire to prove his cocky ass wrong.

You both moved at the same time. Vernon rushed to the side of the couch to block your means of escape, but you were already scrambling to climb over the top and sprinting out of his reach and back down the hallway to your room. The triumph of your escape was short lived, however, because Vernon was tackling you onto your bed the moment you entered the room, “Gotcha dumpling thief!”

You let out a sound of surprise as the two of you tumbled across your sheets. You ended up side by side on your bed, noses almost touching from the close proximity.

“Vernon, what the hell!” you demanded, giving his shoulder a light, but purposeful shove.

“Okay, ow. You know, to be fair, I did warn you.”

“We aren’t kids anymore, you can’t just do shit like that. We could’ve broken my bed, or one or both of us could’ve gotten seriously hurt.” you scolded him with a stern frown on your features, and all it earned you was your best friend chuckling under his breath in response.

“Are you fucking laughing at me! You asshole!” you shouted before pushing on his shoulder again.

You were more annoyed than angry, but you also didn’t want Vernon to think you were letting him off that easy. And yet, he was still laughing. Oh, he was a dead man.

“Sorry, it’s just, I think we’d have to do a lot more than that to break the fucking bed.” he voiced cheekily, eyes dancing with amusement.

“Vernon Chwe, I am going to kill you!!” you roared, and in the next moment you were sitting on top of him.

His eyes changed instantly, but you couldn’t quite read what they were trying to convey. Not that it really mattered, because his expression changed again as soon as you retrieved a pillow from the head of the bed and struck him with it.

“Fuck. Wait. I’m sorry!” he tried, but you just brought the pillow down on him again.

Vernon, ever with the dramatics, let out a high pitched scream every time you hit him. You knew you weren’t doing any real damage, and if his interspersed giggles were anything to go by, you would say he was even enjoying it.

Your best friend had never lost his inner child, even now that both of you were well into your twenties. If you were being honest, it was actually one of the things you loved most about him. You really found it so cute and endearing. Not to mention contagious because you found yourself starting to laugh along with him.

You lost the energy and drive to keep striking him and let the pillow fall from your hands. Both of you were trying to catch your breath and contain your giggles.

“Satisfied now?”

“I am actually, thank you. Don’t ever pull that shit with me again.” you answered, doing your best to sound threatening, but it was proving really difficult at the moment.

You looked down at your hands splayed across Vernon’s stomach, and suddenly remembered that you were still straddling your best friend. His black tee had even started to ride up a little…

Your face felt hot, and you prayed that the reaction would go unnoticed by him. If only you could’ve been so lucky. That same something flashed in his eyes again followed by a curious smirk taking over his face, “Are you blushing?”

“W-What no! S-Shut up. It’s just hot in h-here.” you stuttered back in reply, looking anywhere but at him.

And you were still sitting on him. This was your best friend for fucks sake, just get off the man!

“Hey,” Vernon’s hands gently smoothed over your hips suddenly, “what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You looked down to see his eyes searching your face for some sort of answer to his question.

“Honestly?” you queried back, nervous energy radiating throughout your body.

“Well I asked, didn’t I?” Vernon pointed out, and there was that curious little smile again.

“Okay, but you can’t laugh. Or I will smother you with one of these pillows. Got it?”

Your best friend held up in his hands in innocence, “No laughing. Got it.”

You sighed as you contemplated the risk of telling him exactly what was running through your head right now. Ugh, it all went back to those fucking dumplings. You decided to just say fuck it for the second time that day.

“Well, we’re in somewhat of a compromising position right now. And all I can think about is how weird it feels that this doesn’t feel weird…” you trailed off, and you could feel the blush on your cheeks deepening.

“Oh.” he said softly, and your immediate instinct was suddenly to backtrack as fast as possible.

“U-Unless it feels weird for you and here I am still sitting on you and rambling like an idiot-”

“Y/N.” Vernon interjected, but you were too caught up in trying to save face.

"You know what actually, this is weird. I don’t know what I was talking about. Just forget it, okay? I-”

“Y/N.”

Something in his voice made you finally stop, “Yeah?”

“We’re being honest right now, right?”

You just nodded as your nerves ran rampant. Now Vernon was the one who seemed like he couldn’t look at you. You thought you maybe even noticed some color in his cheeks, but that was most likely just your imagination.

“Nonie, it’s me. Just talk to me.” you coaxed gently, your best friend finally meeting your gaze again.

“Honestly, I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” you pressed, voice coming out hushed.

You definitely didn’t think you were imagining the bright red hue quickly spreading across his entire face. Your heartbeat felt deafening, and you wondered if he could hear it too.

“I’m scared because of how good this feels. You’re right, it should feel so fucking weird. But it just…doesn’t.”

A small gasp escaped from your lips, and when your eyes met again it was like he was seeing straight through you to your soul.

You were scared too. Scared of what this could mean. And the longer you stared into his big, beautiful, brown eyes, the more terrified you felt. But there was also an underlying curiosity and excitement coursing through you.

"You trust me, right?" Vernon asked, breaking the prior silence.

His hands settled on your waist again, and something about all of this just felt so…right. So natural.

"Always."

The devious grin he flashed you had you reconsidering your answer as mischief sparked in his eyes, "Famous last words."

Before you even had a chance to ask him what he meant by that, you were letting out a yelp as he effortlessly flipped the two of you over. In one fluid motion he had pinned you beneath him, arms caging you in on either side. You stared up at him incredulously, and your heart raced furiously.

“Okay. When in the hell did you get so strong?” you paused as your eyes drifted to one of his muscular arms, “And when did your arms get so fucking big, holy shit!”

You reached out to touch him out of habit, and something about the way you could feel his muscles flexing under your hand had you feeling slightly dizzy. You’d always thought and known that Vernon was handsome. Hot sometimes even. But right now, being pinned under him like this..

Your best friend chuckled, the sound pulling you back from your dangerous thoughts, and your hand falling from his arm.

“I have been going to the gym, remember?”

You’d known this of course. He’d even been constantly bugging you to go with him. But this was the first time you were really noticing the change in his physique. Jesus. Had he always been this fucking broad.

“So…does it feel weird yet?” he thankfully interrupted your mind spiral once again.

“Not even a little bit. You’re right, this is scary.” you admitted with a nervous laugh.

“Fucking terrifying.” Vernon agreed quietly as he gazed down at you, eyes focusing on your lips for a split second before shooting back up to meet your own.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you questioned, reflecting his own phrase back at him.

Your best friend blinked in surprise at your query, and his entire face flushed crimson once more.

“Honestly. All I can think about right now…is how bad I want to kiss you. And how if I do…then everything changes.”

Your own face grew hot at his confession. And suddenly it felt like the two of you had always been heading here. To this moment. To each other.

“So kiss me.”

It took you a few seconds to realize you’d actually said the words out loud and not just in your head. The way Vernon’s eyes grew wide was what really gave it away.

“Wait. What?” he inquired, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the cute clueless expression on his face.

“As per usual, we’re sharing the same single brain cell. Which means…I wanna kiss you just as bad.”

This time Vernon was the one who gasped, and you had literally never found him more endearing.

“Maybe even more.” you added playfully, giving him a knowing look.

“Fuck.” he breathed, “Not possible.”

Now it was your eyes wandering to his mouth. You’d genuinely never noticed before, but he had really pretty lips. Like really pretty. They looked really soft too… Oh, you were going to lose it if you didn’t kiss him that very second.

But then he kissed you. And you fucking lost it anyway.

It shouldn’t have been possible to feel like you’d been knocked off your feet when you were literally already laying down. And yet, the moment his lips had touched yours the world had immediately crumbled underneath you.

All you knew was instinct as you kissed him back with surprising furiosity. Instinct and Vernon.

Vernon.

Vernon.

Your hands were in his hair. His tongue was in your mouth. He was invading all your senses and dragging you down, down, down, with him. And right now, you were more than happy to follow the descent.

A mixture of soft pants filled the air as Vernon’s weight pressed down harder on you. You tugged at his chestnut strands, and his teeth grazed your lips in retaliation. You pulled a little harder, your nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned into your mouth before repositioning himself so that he could slide his arms under your back and hold you closer.

Your hands left his hair in favor of fisting handfuls of the back of his shirt instead. Vernon slotted one of his legs between yours, and he swallowed the gasp that slipped out when you felt his thigh press up against you. One of your legs curled around his waist, and he grunted in response. A large hand trailed down to grip onto your thigh, his fingers simultaneously digging into your ass.

And still, not a single part of this felt weird. If anything, it felt electrifying. Like every single one of your nerves was catching fire. Like the two of you would just burn and burn until you consumed each other to ash.

His lips suddenly left yours to follow the line of your jaw, his hair tickling your face. You hummed and could instantly feel Vernon smiling against you. It made warmth bloom in your chest.

Your hands snuck under his shirt to feel more of him, fingers tracing over the defined muscles in his back. You found yourself wondering, actually dying to know, what he looked like naked… Probably like some kind of fucking Greek god if what you’d seen so far was anything to go by.

All thoughts, including the one about wanting to see your best friend naked, flew straight out of your head the moment his mouth attached itself to your neck. That cute, smiley boy was gone. Now he was all hunger. All desire. All tongue and teeth. Kissing and sucking and biting as you squirmed and sighed out beneath him.

Vernon knew you. Maybe better than anyone. Which meant he found the sensitive spot on your neck in record time. He was smiling again. Smirking actually. Shit eating grin as he sucked against your skin, hard enough to definitely leave a mark.

“Such a fucking cheater.” you breathed out, and Vernon chuckled into your neck.

“Where’s the fun in playing fair?” he murmured before biting down on the same spot.

“Vernon, fuck!” you cried out, your body twisting underneath him.

His tongue soothed the spot a moment later and the moan slipped out before you could stop it. Your face burned furiously, and Vernon pulled back from marking up your neck.

“Holy shit.” he whispered, eyes going wide in surprise.

“Fuck you. You know that spot is extremely sensitive. That was just evil.” you whined, your cheeks growing hotter and hotter.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

His statement had caught you completely off guard, and you blinked up at him, “Wait, what?”

Vernon’s own face flushed, and you desperately wanted to kiss him again.

“I just, I can’t believe I made you sound like that. You sound so, pretty…”

That sent your heart racing again. Only this time, you actually hoped he could hear it. So he would know he was having just as much of an effect on you as you were on him.

“I wonder what other sounds I can get you to make.” he mused as his eyes traveled the length of your body.

Your thighs rubbed together as a reflex, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Vernon.

“What do you think?” he queried, thumb gently gripping your chin to hold your gaze, “Should we find out?”

“Only if I get to find out what you sound like too.” you answered with surprising confidence.

Vernon raised an eyebrow at you, and you copied him out of habit.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, “you first, princess.”

Your brain had just barely started to form a response, when you felt his thigh brush against your still covered core once more. You whimpered at the stimulation, and Vernon’s eyes grew noticeably hazy at the sound.

“Shit. You’re really killing me right now, you know that?” he groaned, and it honestly shocked you just how hot whining suddenly sounded coming from him.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

Your best friend swallowed nervously as he stared down at you, “Are you absolutely sure about this? I meant what I said before. If we cross this line…then everything changes. Everything.”

You didn’t even hesitate before taking hold of his shirt to yank him back down to your mouth for a searing kiss. His strong hands immediately gripped your hips, pushing the material of your shirt up just slightly. You pulled back, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth as you did so, “Then let it change.”

“Fuck.” Vernon growled, and then his mouth was descending on you again.

You moaned freely now as he made patches of color bloom across your chest, your fingers twisting back into his already messy locks. His teeth scraped along your collar bones, and his hands slid up higher. Your skin warmed as his palms smoothed over your back, resting just under the clasp of your bra. His fingers tentatively brushed over the fabric as his loving kisses trailed lower, ghosting over the tops of your breasts.

“Vernon.”

His name left your lips as a dreamy sigh.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

The nickname actually wasn’t anything new. In fact, it was one that had stuck since you were both kids. The context, however, was brand fucking new. And the raspiness of his already deep voice was really doing something to you.

“Fuck, touch me. Please.” you pleaded breathlessly.

He moaned softly into the skin of your neck, the sound like the most beautiful music you had ever heard. His fingers were shaking as he clumsily undid the clasp, and you quickly sat up to slide the garment down your arms and out from under your shirt. You were shedding your shirt a moment later, and Vernon inhaled sharply.

“Wait, YN-”

You reached out to take one of his hands and placed it directly over your racing heart, “I trust you, remember.”

He let out a small gasp before closing the space between you to kiss you gently. His hands started to curve around your breasts after several seconds, and you sighed at the contact.

“You’re so pretty, shit. And so soft.” he voiced as his large hands fully enveloped you, softly kneading your flesh.

One of his thumbs swiped over your nipple and you hissed, head falling back slightly. Vernon carefully maneuvered you to lay back down, and you cried out when his hands were suddenly being replaced by his warm mouth. He took his time mapping out your chest with his lips, tongue, and teeth, with you squirming and whining beneath him all the while. His lips wrapped around one of your perked buds, and something inside you snapped.

“Fucking shit. Hansol.” you moaned loudly, not even registering what you had accidentally just called him.

You had used his first name on very very few occasions. He had always just been Vernon to you. But the things he was doing to you was making it nearly impossible to think straight, and it had just slipped out during your rush of pleasure. He lifted his head and used one of his hands to sweep his hair back from his face, his eyes almost completely swallowed by darkness.

“God, princess. You can’t just fucking do that.” Vernon scolded you, a noticeable whiny and needy edge to his voice.

“Hansol.”

“Fuck.” he growled, “Stop that.”

“Make me, Hansol.” you fired back, eyes blazing with challenge.

Vernon shook his head at you and chuckled darkly, “Bratty little princess.”

You barely had time to process before one of his strong arms was laid across your stomach, pinning you down as his other hand slowly started undoing your jeans.

“If we need to stop, just say the word.”

He slowly slid your zipper all the way down. Every part of you was screaming in anticipation.

“W-What are you doing?” you asked, voice shaky.

Vernon’s eyes flicked up to meet your own, and a wicked little smirk was decorating his handsome face. You clenched around absolutely nothing.

“Making you.”

Without any further hesitation, his fingers slipped past the waistband of your underwear to make contact with your slick folds.

“Holy shit.” he swore under his breath, “You’re fucking soaked.”

You were shaking underneath him. You felt like if you didn’t get some part of him inside you, you were going to go crazy. Vernon seemed to be past the point of feeling unsure though because he wasted no time before slipping one of his long digits past your walls. You whimpered, your hands digging into the sheets below you.

He watched, mesmerized, as he drew his finger back out before pumping it into you again. He added another digit a moment later, and your back rose off the bed as you cried out.

“God, you feel incredible, princess. I can’t believe how well you’re taking my fingers.” he praised you, his voice husky and laced with want.

His fingers started drilling into you faster, and he grunted as he used his other arm to hold down your thrashing body.

“Oh my God…Vernon.”

“You gonna come for me, princess?” he pressed, stretching you out even more by going up to three digits.

You actually were about to come surprisingly fast. How the fuck was it that he knew your body so well even though this was the first time you had ever done this? But he was reaching that spot inside you with ridiculous ease, and pushing you steadily towards your high. His thumb passed over your clit, and your body jolted at the stimulation.

“Fuck. I’m close.”

Vernon groaned before beginning to rub your clit in time with his fingers fucking into you, and you felt ready to scream at this point as your eyes screwed shut.

“Shit…Vernon…” your voice trailed off as your breathing was rapidly increasing.

“You can let go, princess. I’ve got you.” Vernon said gently, a complete contrast to the harsh motion of his hand inside you.

You opened your eyes to see him intently staring down at you, brows furrowed and biting his lip in concentration. He looked so sexy right now, and you clenched hard around his fingers before soaking them with your release. Vernon cursed loudly, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm until you were crying at the overstimulation.

As soon as he was pulling his fingers from you, he was immediately slipping them into his mouth to suck them clean, moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, princess. You taste so sweet.” he groaned, and you found your eyes wandering to the bulge in his jeans for the first time.

Fucking hell. He must’ve been huge. You were determined to find out for yourself as you suddenly got up from the bed, pulling Vernon up beside you. Still in the midst of your post orgasm haze, you dropped to your knees on your bedroom floor. Vernon's eyes went wide, and you began frantically pulling at his belt.

“Shit, Y/N, you don’t-”

“If we need to stop, then tell me. Otherwise, I need you to shut up cause I want to suck you off.” you explained simply as you yanked his belt from the loops in one swift movement.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

You grinned up at him devilishly before undoing his jeans just as quickly. Seeing the way his cock was straining against his boxers had your mouth starting to water slightly.

“We’ve literally known each other forever, and even after all that time, I had no idea you were packing. Holy shit.” you remarked, your hands gripping his waistband.

You glanced up to see Vernon blushing furiously, making you giggle.

“Oh my God, please just stop.” he whined cutely.

“Lucky for you, I actually will have to cause my mouth will be full in a minute.”

A sense of satisfaction ran through you when you saw his dick twitch in his boxers. Finally, you would get to see firsthand what he looked and sounded like when he was being pleasured. The thought excited you to no end.

Vernon’s eyes never left you as you tugged down his boxers to free his cock, and it immediately bounced up against his stomach. Your eyes widened because he was really was fucking huge. Like you could already preemptively feel the ache in your jaw. But you genuinely wanted to do this for him, even if it caused you some discomfort in the process.

You didn’t even warn Vernon before licking a stripe along the underside of his cock.

“Oh fucking hell.” he breathed, hand immediately shooting out behind him to grip onto the edge of your bed.

“Maybe you should sit down. Don’t want you passing out on me.” you teased, and red flooded his face once more.

“Shut up.” he muttered under his breath, but he took a seat on the end of your bed anyway.

You situated yourself back in front of him, “Now, sit back and relax, princess.”

“Y/N, I swear to God-”

He cut himself off with a choked moan as soon as your lips wrapped around his tip. You slowly took him in further, Vernon’s hands desperately fisting the sheets as he panted out above you.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

You kept going until you felt his cock reach the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, your mouth.”

You swallowed around him, and his head tipped back as he cried out. He really looked stunning from this angle. His eyes were fluttering as his chest heaved up and down, and the veins in his neck strained beautifully against his skin.

The obscene noise of you bobbing your head up and down his length filled up the space of your bedroom. Your hands dug into his thighs as you started going faster. You felt the weight of Vernon’s hand on your head, and barely had time to process before he was shoving you all the way down his cock and making you choke around him. He released you just as quickly, “Fuck, sorry! You just feel so fucking good. I got carried away for a second.”

Your only response was to reach for his hand and place it back atop your head. If he wanted to take control, then that was exactly what you wanted him to do. You honestly found it so fucking hot when he did.

Your throat constricted around him yet again, and his hips jerked against your mouth. His fingers were tangling into your hair a moment later and pulling hard at the strands as he pushed his cock down your throat again. You moaned with him still in your mouth, and the vibration had his nails scraping against your scalp as he groaned sweetly above you. He started fucking your mouth at his own pace, using his hold on your head to keep you still.

“Just like that, princess. Shit.”

Tears were starting to build in your eyes as you spluttered and choked on him again and again. But the gorgeous whines and whimpers leaving his mouth made it all so fucking worth it.

“Fuck. Can I come in your mouth, princess? You’re getting me so close.”

You gave a small nod of your head, and felt the tears start to slide down your cheeks. Vernon’s thrusts were starting to lose their rhythm as his cries grew louder.

“Shit, you feel…so good. I’m not…gonna last.”

Your head had just started to feel a little hazy, when you felt him jerk inside your mouth before shooting his release down your throat. You made sure to swallow it all before pulling off him to get some much needed oxygen back into your lungs.

“Holy fucking shit.” Vernon rasped out, “Well, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You beamed proudly at him from your spot on the floor, still trying to catch your breath.

“So…I would say our friendship is sufficiently ruined.” he added, chuckling slightly.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. Wanna go get some dumplings?” you proposed as you carefully got to your feet.

Vernon just stared at you for several seconds.

“What? I’m fucking starving.”

More staring.

“You’re gonna chase me around the house again aren’t you?”

“I’ll give you a real head start this time.” Vernon finally spoke up.

“Oh wow, that’s really considerate of you.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

Despite his “threat”, you had a feeling neither of you would be leaving your room for quite some time. There was plenty more friendship ruining to do, and something told you this was just the beginning of a much bigger domino effect.

[adoringmha]

CLEAN UP

pairing: bakugo x fem!reader

summary: bakugo comes home from work to find you doing the dishes and gets needy <3

warnings: oral (fem receiving) but only for a bit while doing the dishes, lowkey innocent reader but not really (that’s just the vibe i got when writing it), waste of water skshsj, a hint of degradation, also c*m-licking...

word count: 1.4k

notes: this came to me while i was doing the dishes tbh that’s it + i feel like this isn’t that good but i wanted to post something for his birthday <3

you were washing the dishes, almost half-way done when you heard the door open and close. you smiled to yourself, already feeling happier that bakugo was home. normally, you’d meet him at the door to greet him, but you were a little busy today cleaning up. 

bakugo walked in and frowned when you weren’t immediately there to jump in his arms and kiss him hello. he grumbled to himself and took his shoes off, setting his bag down in the entryway. he was wearing his sweats and a tank top, already changed out of his hero costume and wanted nothing more than to literally sink into you. 

he walked through your home, a usual scowl on his face, but it was quick to turn into a smirk when he noticed you in the kitchen, your comfy short shorts on and one of your lace bralettes, but most importantly a little pink apron tied at your waist. 

he licked his lips, “there you are teddy bear.” his voice was rough and immediately shot down to your core. 

you turned your head with a smile before turning back to the plate you were washing. “hi bub, how was your day?”

he took a moment to answer, too distracted, his eyes scanning up and down your body, resting generously on the curves of your ass he could see under your shorts. “same old shit,” he mumbled half-heartedly. after a few seconds he spoke again, “you know it’s not very nice of you to tease me like this, princess.”

your brows furrowed in confusion, “tease you? but i’m not doing anything.” 

“yes you are. standing here, looking like that. your perfect ass out. you’re always fuckin’ teasing me.”

you laughed to yourself and rolled your eyes. “so basically i exist and you’re personally offended––”

you could hear the smirk in his voice that was suddenly way closer than before. “i’m personally offended that you aren’t sitting on my face right now.” before you could respond, he slapped your ass hard with the help of his quirk to add an extra sting.

“katsu–!”

he pulled you into his chest by your waist, his fingertips digging into you nicely. “what, baby? it’s true.” he buried his face in your shoulder and you could feel him taking you in, the scent of your body soap, the softness of your skin. he kissed along your shoulder, and up your neck slowly, before trailing his lips up your jaw and licking along the shell of your ear. he bit your earlobe teasingly and you shuddered in his hands, making him chuckle. “what do you say, hm?” he kissed your cheek. “you gonna let me eat that pretty pussy? it is mine after all...”

you swallowed thickly and tried to stand straight, accidentally rubbing your ass into his hardening bulge, making him groan and press his fingers into you harder. “but the...the dishes––” 

he rolled his hips into you and groaned, barely hearing your words. he breathed out against your ear, “i’ll tell you what,” he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and your panties, silently waiting for you to object. when you didn’t, he pulled them off and threw them aside. 

“you keep doing the dishes, and i get my late night snack, okay?” 

you tried to turn around but he wouldn’t let you, his hands holding you still as he got down on his knees. “wait you’re gonna–”

“spread your legs and let me get my fill, teddy bear.” he squeezed both your ass cheeks in his hands, clearly enjoying himself and you could just about picture the smile on his face. “you gonna be my good girl, hm?” 

you nodded, spreading your legs and bending over the sink slightly, biting your lip in anticipation, already feeling the heat spreading through your body. before you could even respond, he spread your cheeks and buried his face in you, his tongue lapping through your folds to taste you eagerly. “mm yes katsu.” 

the plate that was in your hand almost slipped as your eyes ached to flutter shut immediately, bakugo’s touch knocking the sense out of you. the water was running over your hands carelessly and you swore you forgot what you were doing and where you were for a moment until bakugo spoke up again, the brief moment he separated from your lower half giving you time to think clearly.

“make sure you clean em well baby, i want them to be spotless.” he spit on your pussy and you moaned loudly, making him smirk against your lips. “don’t worry, i’ll clean you up real good when i’m done too.”

you nodded and whined pathetically, bucking back into him to get him to continue. he grinned almost sadistically, and dove back in at full force and speed, groaning and moaning into your heat like an animal.

his tongue was exploring all around your cunt expertly, licking, prodding and teasing all the spots to make you tick. his eyes were closed and he was fully immersed into you, hellbent on making you cum on his tongue—he wanted to taste you, and to make you fall apart so fucking bad.

you were rocking back into him, letting him tongue-fuck you, wasting the water running from the faucet, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. the water was turning cold and it was splashing off the plate, onto your chest and arms but the heat of the pleasure from bakugo’s tongue running through your veins overpowered that.

it wasn’t until he opened his eyes and realized that your arms weren’t moving that he pulled away, pulling a long high-pitched whine from your throat.

he smacked your ass hard and your body immediately jerked back into his touch, yearning for more, whatever he’d give you. “wash those fucking dishes, princess. what’d i tell you.”

“but baby—“ he growled your name in warning and you sighed and tried to catch your breath, letting out a small “okay” before you resumed washing the dishes, your hands shaky and uncoordinated, your mind still glitching from his mind-numbing touch.

he grunted, pleased, before licking a torturously long swipe from your clit to your opening that had you gasping for air. “taste like fucking candy, baby bear. fuck-“ you felt him take one hand away from you and heard a quiet spitting noise and you moaned out loud when you realize he’d taken his cock out and started stroking himself to your taste. but you quickly tried to rush through the rest of the dishes, fearing he’d stop. 

he chuckled, “yeah, you like that baby? the sound of me stroking my cock while i’m tongue-fucking you? such a slutty little thing––” he smacked your ass again and started stroking himself faster, just the taste of you and the sound of your moans enough to bring him close to the edge.  

though he could feel himself about to burst, he kept at it, shaking his head vigorously, moaning obscenely into your heat and it took a lot of effort, but you quickly finished washing the few things that were left and shut the water off immediately, bringing a wet hand back to grip his hair, making him groan into you. “fuck yes.” 

he swirled his tongue around your clit, one hand grabbing your ass as you grinded back into him, the other fisting his cock faster and faster. he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and you let out a guttural moan, your legs trembling as you struggled to keep yourself upright, your hand tugging at his strands harshly, triggering his release. 

he stayed true to his word and lapped up all over your cunt, cleaning you up as he stroked himself slowly, milking himself dry all over his hand, panting against your wet folds. he left a few sloppy kisses on your pussy, trailing them to your ass before he bit it playfully, smiling against it when you yelped.

he stood up and turned you around with one hand, not wasting any time in pulling you flush against him and pressing his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself. “you drive me fucking crazy princess,” he mumbled against your lips, pulling away to smirk at you when you giggled. 

you grabbed his hand and without breaking eye contact, licked his fingers clean, bringing them in your mouth to suck on them sensually, rubbing your thighs together when you noticed him getting worked up again. he pumped his fingers in and out of your mouth, his own hanging open as he watched you. “that’s my good fucking girl. you clean up so well.”

[tokillamockingbird427]

Katar's fucked up writing process

For @onlycodcanjudgeme tell us more tuesday thing. Let's go.

Lots of ideas I get are inspired by the music I listen too. I can write a whole scene to a song (Maladaptive daydreamers unite.) I've kinda talked about this before. Two Birds was inspired by Regina Spektor's song of the same name. A future work is being inspired by In Our Bedroom After The War by Stars.

This gives me little scenes I can use in the fic later. Major events usually, though small ones too. Whatever they turn out to be, I keep them in mind as little "Focal Points."

Then I take the plunge approach. I get right into writing a scene for a fic, not story outline of nothing. I pull the scene out of my head and lay it out.

The reason I do this: I want to see how interesting the idea is to me before taking the time to develop it further. It also helps to establish characters, establish the "vibe" of the story, and to give me a "jumping point" later. (When I get into seriously writing the thing.)

It's very likely that the prototype shot is going to be changed or even cut out of the story entirely. The "OG Placeholder" fic I have on my account is the prototype chapters for the current story, and if you compared it to the current version of Placeholder it's very different. (It also contains deleted scenes.)

After the plunge, I'll start on an outline. And my outlines are pretty basic. Lot's of bullet points, vague ideas, yadda yadda. It will also change as I write the story. Some ideas get cut, others get added.

And of course: I RESEARCH. (Favorite part tbh.)

I know most/all writers research, but I think the time and energy I put in is difficult to match. I don't think there's a lot of other people who manage the same level of research I do, and it's not a bad/good thing, it's just something I do different.

Example: I choose real locations for my fics to take place at. The Panama canal and the fort there, the Cayman Island power plant as well as the yacht club. Those are all real places and I try and keep the missions settings as similar to those places as I can. Using buildings, objects, even street names. (Sparky's drive is the real name.)

I also try and keep the characters themselves realistic. What happens and how they behave.

In chapter 20, Logan is shot in the ribs. This causes one of his lungs to begin to collapse. Hesh, his older brother, doesn't know how to react. One, he's too shellshocked (Logan is his baby brother, he almost drowned like 30 second prior, after surviving a crash and orbital strike.) to think clearly. Two, he doesn't know the first aid needed for Logan's injury. However, Elias does, and he's levelheaded enough to administer it.

Keegan is also my best example of a person dealing with.... all the shit he deals with. Everyone else is as realistic as I can make them, but Keegan is a character who states very clearly and plainly what is going on with him and why, so he's the clearest example.

It's also pretty easy for me to keep the military related stuff accurate. I'm a military brat, so I know a lot, and even if I don't know the answer, I know the terms needed to go about finding said answer. Either through my parents (Both veterans.) or the interweb.

During all of this, blasting music. I love listening to music. Like, I listen to music 24/7, no joke or exaggeration. If I can, I have headphones on and music blasting.

Also shout out to @satan-incarnate-666 @alidravana @luda-m-lada @faccal for being nice when I roll up like "HEY LISTEN TO THIS THING." and throw a million ideas at them. It's fun. They throw things back at me. :D (We throw things at each other. lovingly.)

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Laito Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the forest

Yui: ( ...I made it to the Demon World, but what should I do now...? )

( They always escorted me to their castle in the past, so I don’t know the way either... )

( Running away was the only thing on my mind, so I came here without giving it a second thought, but perhaps I made the wrong choice after all... )

ーー Guess I have no other choice but to proceed for now.

*Rustle*

Yui: !?

( Don’t tell me Wolves have made it this far...!? )

ー She starts running

Yui: Haah, haah...

( ...Seems like they’re not coming after me...Thank god... )

Haah...I’m kind of tired...

( Perhaps I should find shelter somewhere and wait for the sun to rise...Then I’ll continue my search for the castle once it’s light ouーー )

( Ah, but...But if I recall correctly, the nights here last much longer than those in the human world... )

What now...?

( For now, I’ll find a safe space to rest. There’s no point in aimlessly running around... )

ー The scene shifts to a cave

Yui: Haah...What should I do next?

( I wonder if I should just head back? Even if I continue to wander around here... )

( However, that’s where those Wolves are... )

Uu...

( It’s no use. I can’t come up with any good ideas while mentally exhausted... )

( ...I’ll rest up a little. )

Haah...I wonder what Laito-kun’s doing right now...?

ー Yui closes her eyes

*TIMESKIP*

???: Kukukuku...How lovely...Honestly...Why is a girl’s lonely expression just soーー

ーー irresistibly sexy, I wonder? I can’t get enough of it.

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Nn...

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...Stop...

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: It tickles...

( ーー Wait...!? )

( Something is...feeling me up...!? )

ー She opens her eyes

Yui: Kyaaaaah....!!!

???: Uwah...!?

*Thud*

Yui: ...!! Eh...!?

Laito: Owowow...How could you suddenly jump up like that, Bitch-chan...? You meanie...

Yui: L-Laito-kun...!?

Laito: I took a heavy blow right to the face as a result...

Yui: I...I’m sorry. Are you alright?

Laito: Uuu...I’m fine...

Yui: Haah, thank god...

Laito: I know I’ve only got myself to blame for trying to assault you in your sleep but...

Even so, your headbutt was nothing to scoff at.

Yui: ...Sorry. I was surprised when I felt something touch my body...

More importantly, when did you get here?

Laito: Eh? Quite some time ago?

Yui: Eh!? No way...You should have woken me up then.

Laito: I mean, that would have been a missed opportunity, no~?

Yui: A missed opportunity? Wait, how so?

Laito: This situation, obviously! Nfu~

Yui: ...!?

Laito: My cute Bitch-chan finds herself in unknown territory...

With nobody to come to her rescue, she has to spend a night full of insecurities all by herself.

Just the thought of that gives me the shivers! Don’t you feel the same?

Yui: I-I don’t...! I was really scared, you know...!?

Laito: Oh dear~? Are you mad at me?

Yui: W...Well...

( For as lonely as I felt by myself, seeing Laito-kun still be his usual self makes me feel extremely relieved. )

( I could never get upset at him... )

I’m not angry.

Laito: Fufu...Of course you aren’t~ You just love me after all.

Yui: ...How about you?

Laito: What about me?

Yui: ...Do you also...?

Laito: What’s this? You want to confirm it? I’ve said it plenty of times before, haven’t I?

Yui: Butーー

Laito: Nfu...You’re uncertain, aren’t you? ...I can tell...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: ( Laito-kun... )

Laito: Of course ーー I love you. (1) A lot, okay?

Feeling reassured now? Nfu~

Yui: Yeah...Thank you.

Laito: Haah, I thought we were going to be apart for a while but...Our reunion came quicker than I expected...

Yui: I’m sorry for coming here on a whim. The Wolves made it to the manor...

Laito: Oh no, Bitch-chan. This is what you should say instead.

‘I missed you so much, I couldn’t stand being apart...So while I was thinking of you...

I subconsciously found myself opening the gate to the Demon World.’ ...Something like that?

ーー Say, tell me. I know we weren’t apart for long, but while you were by yourself...You thought of me, didn’t you?

Yui: Well, of course...

Laito: Did you let your imagination run wild during those times?

Yui: Well...

Laito: You didn’t?

Yui: ...I-I didn’t have the time to...

Laito: Really?

Yui: I don’t lie...

Laito: Fufu...Bitch-chan, no point in hiding it~

I can tell. The fact that your face is flushed as red as a strawberry right now proves my point.

You see...While feeling sad from noticing how my scent slowly faded from your own body.

Your feelings for me should have only grown stronger...

...Just like mine did...Haah...

ー He takes in her scent

Yui: Laito-kun, that tickles...

Laito: You don’t like it?

Yui: Uu...

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan? Should I not put myself at ease by taking in your scent like this?

Yui: ( He really sees right through me... )

Laito: Kukuku....A prisoner of love, you’re completely in my grasp, aren’t you?

ーー I don’t think I have to say this...But you have me in your grasp as well.

The truth is, I was worried you might just follow me here, so I’ve been keeping an eye on you.

Yui: Eh...!? T-Then...You’ve been watching me ever since I set foot inside this world...?

Laito: Exactly. I was watching over you.

I figured you’d come. You can no longer bear being away from me after all.

Yui: ...

Laito: Having trouble proving me wrong because I hit the nail on the head?

Yui: Yup.

Laito: ...Why the haphazard response?

I bet you want to try and defend your case, but you find it too much trouble, don’t you?

Yui: Uu...I-I mean, no matter what kind of response I give, I can’t talk my way out... (2)

Laito: Nfufu~ You seem to know me very well, Bitch-chan.

As to be expected of my Yui-chan~!

Yui: ( ...He seems very happy... )

( I guess I can take this as him genuinely accepting my feelings? )

( In that case, I’m happy too... )

Laito: Bitch-chan, are you listening?

Yui: Ah, yeah. I am.

Laito: Really? I hope soーー

*HOOOOWL*

Laito: Whoops...It’d be troublesome if those Wolves were to show up...

Come on. Let’s go.

Yui: Yeah!

( I really am glad Laito-kun came for me. Now I can rest assured, right? )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room of the Sakamaki manor

Yui: ーー Wait...W-Why? We came back.

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly. That was my plan all along after all.

Yui: Is this...okay?

Laito: Hmー Let me think.

What if you’re attacked by those Wolves like Ayato-kun was...?

Laito: Well, I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it...?

Yui: Laito-kun!

Laito: Just kidding~ It was a joke.

But you know, I might just prefer being roughened up by those Wolves over having to stay at that castle.

ーー I’d rather not have to stay there for an extended period of time.

Yui: ...

Laito: Say, you feel the same way, don’t you? Rather than being stuck at that castle crawling with Vampires...

...you’d much rather indulge in some sweet private time with me here, don’t you?

ー He steps closer

Yui: ( He’s trying to beg the question. )

( I guess he really must not want to stay at that castle... )

Right. Let’s do that then?

Laito: Nfu~ You’re good at matching someone’s vibe, aren’t you? I don’t hate that, you know?

*Rustle*

Yui: Laito-kun...

Laito: Yes?

Yui: I like you.

Laito: Fufu... ーー So do I...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

Laito: Yui-chan...

*Rustle*

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s room

Laito: ーー That being said, this place sure has known better times...The whole manor has been turned upside down...

I think Reiji would have a mental breakdown if he saw this. Nfu~

Yui: We have to try and tidy things up step by step, otherwise we won’t be able to properly live here.

Laito: Good point. However, I don’t dislike the thought of living in this mess of a manor.

Yui: Eeh!? W-What makes you say that!?

Laito: Just try imagining it! What it would feel like to ‘have some fun’ (3) in a room which has been turned upside down~ 

As you find yourself amidst not-so-ideal circumstances, you suddenly experience a strong desire for carnal pleasure and you eagerlyーー

Yui: S-Stop right there! I’ve heard enough!

Laito: Eeh? I was just about to get to the juicy part though?

Yui: M-More importantly, I wonder if those Wolves won’t come here anymore?

Laito: I’m sure we’ll be fine for a while. However, if we stay here too long, they might find us eventually.

Yui: Right...

Laito: So, I had a great idea.

All of the Vampires who live around this area have retreated back to the Demon World.

In other words, their manor is currently uninhabited, right? So why don’t we go live there?

Yui: You mean we could go to the manor of the Mukami’s, for example?

Laito: Nfu~ Exactly!

We stay here for a bit first, then go to the Mukami’s place after. Honestly, I wouldn’t even mind returning to your childhood home for a bit.

Yui: I see...If we go from one place to another, it’d be more difficult for them to track us down.

Laito: I think it’s an almost disgustingly good idea, if I may say so myself.

Yui: However, are we sure we can just invite ourselves in...?

Laito: It kind of gets me all excited! It’s like we’re eloping together. Nfufu~ 

Yui: ( He’s not listening at all. )

( We don’t know when the Wolves will make their move, so we have to stay on guard as long as we don’t know what exactly they’re after. )

( I can only pray life will be back to normal soon... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) This might just be a stylistic choice, but when Laito says 愛してる or ‘aishiteru’, it isn’t written in kanji as it is in all other routes, but in Katakana. This is quite odd/uncommon because usually Katakana is used for foreign words or words borrowed from another language.

I’m sure there are other people who could do a better analysis of this, but I do think it’s written like this because Laito saying those words is also somewhat surreal in itself? So by writing the word in Katakana, it reflects that sense of ‘strangeness’. 

(2) Literally she says that she can’t escape his ‘pace’. 

(3) もつれ合う or ‘motsue-au’ literally means ‘to get entangled’. I mostly found it in context of tangled vines, etc. but I think we all know what Laito implies here. :p

<- [ Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

[mandoinevarro]

heyy so i heard you were taking suggestions???

i cant stop thinking about this modern au where din is a detective and reader is either another detective or a witness or something and they end up working a case together? maybe set in christmas for an extra creepy vibe? smut or not ill leave that to you, but youre one of my favorite writers and id love to read your take on this :)

hey anon, you heard right! i'm sorry that it took me a bit long to write this but i liked your idea and i wanted to get it right, so here it is. i changed a few things, but hopefully you'll still enjoy it.

Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: uhhhhhhhhhh T? M? i'll probably write more about this AU and if i'm being honest it'll most likely evolve into E—either way no minors

Warnings: well no smut so far but i have 0 self control so who knows what the future holds… anyway: crime, c*ps, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, missing people, mentions of drugs, and very unethical journalism :D

a/n: I realize that Horatio Mythrol is the dumbest name in the world but let's see you come up with a better one

Words: 4.8k

       TWELVE DRUMMERS DRUMMING

The early December drizzle fell like frozen needles on your cheeks. It dragged the lampposts’ light like smudged watercolor, creating a fuzzy orange halo around them, the only pigment outside of the black and grey spectrum. That and the yellow tape.

The sirens are off. Red and blue rotating lights are no longer necessary to alarm neighbors of possible dangers. This quiet suburban neighborhood in the outskirts of Nevarro has learnt to recognize the screeching tires of squad cars, the panicked murmuring of half-asleep officers and detectives.

Too cheesy. True-crime-podcast level of cheesy. Not that the Nevarro Bee was the pinnacle of investigative journalism and crime reporting, but the last thing you needed was to look like an amateur in your first assignment.

You hadn’t had time to give yourself a pep talk before the call came. It had jolted you awake, your screeching ringtone cutting through your slumber like oil in water, a rough voice that took you a couple of seconds to recognize: “Horatio Mythrol. 352 Cypress Street.” A pause. “You were right.” The line went dead.

Your stomach swirled with dread and sick excitement. With pride. Your hunch had been right.

The next call had been less ominous.

“I dunno, kid,” your editor slurred. You could hear the clicking of his typewriter, a leftover from his time as a stringer in the 80s. 2:50 a.m. and the old worker bee was still at the office. “You’re a rookie. This isn’t rookie work.”

“Come on, Fett, I got the tip.” All that time reporting on Little League games and interviewing the kaki-wearing winners of the Best Lawn Award had finally paid off. This was your one-way golden ticket out of covering county fairs—you’d rather stick your fingers below carnival bumper cars than writing another piece on the latest hot dog eating competition. “Fennec’s out covering that embezzlement thing in Corellia, who’re you gonna send? Calican?”

You heard him huff in time with a key jamming.

“Be serious.”

“I am.” You were already half dressed, stumbling from cold bedsheets to a colder bedroom with a leg half up your jeans. “I got the tip straight from the police department. From my source. I can do this.”

He typed to the rhythm of his ruminating. “You sure you wanna jump on the crime beat, kid? Cops can be assholes.”

“Can’t be worse than soccer moms.”

“Might be dangerous.”

“I’ve got pepper spray.”

It hadn’t been raining when you left your apartment. The jacket you’d worn for the cold, but you’d foregone the rain boots. You inevitably felt out of place in your stupid soaked sneakers, as you watched from a block away the warm, protective gear that cops and crime scene techs were clad in. A boulder settled deep in your stomach when you imagined yourself walking across the street with shaky hands and a notepad filled with more doodles than quotes—Baby’s First Crime Scene. The uniforms on scene would raise their snouts and smell it off you like brand-new plastic: a rookie, some amateur, a kid among the pros.

No. No, you could definitely handle this. You got the tip. For the time being, you were the first and only journalist on scene—even the nightcrawlers seemed to have missed this one—and this was your story. Christ, you could do this. Fett only asked for ten inches of copy and one quote from law enforcement. Piece of cake.

Your sneakers squeaked across the shining asphalt as you crossed the street, fingers trembling in your pockets from the cold and the anxiety. Nobody seemed to care much about your presence on the sidewalk. Officers circled around you, spoke codes into their radios, helped techs unload equipment. You were early. The chief of police wasn’t here yet, and neither were the detectives. Your source had been the first on scene—thanks to you, of course—so he’d kept his word, which you’d only half-expected.

A heavy-limbed officer ducks behind yellow tape with a black light in his arms. A crime scene technician in a white boiler suit carries a jug of luminol inside the luxurious 70s bungalow at the end of Cypress Street. Despite the fully-equipped van, the squad cars that keep rolling in by the second and the top-notch technology at the disposition of Nevarro PD, every uniform on scene carries the haunted look in their eyes of someone who’s been in this position one too many times. They know that luminol will not flare up white and neon inside this bungalow. They know that the only prints they’ll pick up will belong to the owner of the house, Horatio Mythrol, the man who is currently missing.

You walked until the yellow tape grazed your waist. Cops bumped into you, murmuring apologies or curses. Word was starting to get out, but not fast enough. The police station was a twenty-minute drive away from the crime scene. The uniforms that were already here had either been patrolling the area or running red lights. Or, of course, they’d already known what houses they needed to stake out—which was the case of your source. A man you couldn’t find anywhere among the hive of buzzing cops.

Shit. You needed that quote.

Flipping out your legal pad and asking random, grumpy cops for on-the-record quotes, pretty please, didn’t seem like the most sensitive plan of action.

This is the fourth disappearance in less than two months. The Nevarran upper-class neighborhood that has been rocked by what some call a crime wave (nobody really calls it that—most women in the line at the grocery shop insist it’s a serial killer) already shows signs of the fear settling into its inhabitants. Tall fences have been built, CCTV cameras blink red at passersby, some front doors have ditched Christmas crowns and mistletoe for triple locks. And yet, Nevarro PD insists the cases are not related. The public isn’t so sure. (The public, aka, you.) Last week during a press conference (that you hadn’t been allowed to attend) Chief—

“You, with the sneakers,” someone barked behind you.

It made you jump. It made your ears and neck warm because goddamnit you had to wear those fucking sneakers. Mostly, it made you want to trade places with Horatio Mythrol when you turned to find an officer in full uniform scowling at you, and you said the single stupidest thing you could: “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” The cop’s arms were crossed, highlighting the nametag on her left side that read Reeves and the badge on her right side that said Captain. “You live here?”

“Um, no.”

“You see anything?”

“No, I’m…” You knew it was a mistake before you said it. “I’m press.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? What, you want a quote?” Captain Reeves stepped towards you, you stepped back until your waist bended the yellow tape. Somehow, you didn’t think saying yes and pulling out your pen and legal pad would do you any good. “Well, here’s your quote, Press: The last thing we need in an active crime scene is a glorified web sleuth getting in our way and distracting officers. We have this under control.” She paused for a second to let it sink in. It did. “Beat it.”

And beat it you did.

Sort of.

You wore your best wimp face and scurried away like a scared little mouse running away from the Big Bad Wolf, an act you knew cops soaked up as their daily shot of god complex. You were only half-acting. Reeves’ coal eyes burned into you all the way to the end of the street, where tall cypresses prevented passersby from plunging into the river below. It was only after you spotted her telltale cop smirk and she turned around, that you took cover behind the cypresses to trek back to the house with what you knew was a shit-eating grin.

If one believed town gossip—and you certainly did—Captain Koska Reeves had a reputation for bending civil rights as far back as she did suspects’ arms: guilty ‘til proven innocent, anything you say I’ll paraphrase to my liking, if you cannot afford you ain’t getting one. Anyone with a brain would’ve marched straight back home—that is, anyone who didn’t know that Miss Congeniality here didn’t have the upper hand for once. Fourth disappearance in less than two months and Nevarro PD had a whole bunch of nothing, not a single print or drop of blood or speck of semen to waive around as a white flag. You saw it during the press conferences, when they babbled about unreleased information and an abundance of physical evidence. Bullshit. Reeves’ eyes had sunk deep into their pockets under the weight of all that imaginary evidence, under the Chief’s pressure and the Mayor’s boot. They couldn’t afford to fuck up, so she was playing this one close to the chest—if you had to guess, you’d say she was only calling in the police officers she trusted the most—the ones who were only mildly dirty— which is why, when you reached the back of the bungalow, there wasn’t a single one in sight.

Back in the 70s Nevarro was a hot hippie hub, believe it or not. This was before the real estate whales and big developers from Corellia moved in and ran anybody with sandals and bloodshot eyes out of town before they could say “fascist.” But Horatio Mythrol seemed to hold on to the summer of love, judging by the dream catcher hanging by the porch and the bright green conversation pit in the middle of his living room that you caught a glimpse of when you snuck to the bungalow’s backyard.

One thing about these authentic midcentury modern houses: the fences are never tall.

Still, not an easy climb. With the rain-slicked fence and the sneakers that you were definitely burning after this, you slipped and fell like a sack of potatoes into the backyard, crashing butt-first into a charming little allotment of what smelled like weed. Jesus Christ.

Moron Journalist Arrested for B&E, Tampering with Evidence

So when you rolled off onto the mushy lawn and peered at the property damage you’d caused, you thought you were imagining it. A flash of silver blinking at you from between the spiky marijuana leaves, it could only be an hallucination caused by your fall—but when you reached a hand inside the orchard and closed your fist around the glint, it materialized. Cold, ragged and metallic: a key.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The scratchy voice fell on your shoulders like a piano in a cartoon. You jumped a couple of feet into the air and scrambled on your hands and knees, limbs shaking like industrial drills, searching in the dark for the source of the commanding voice that could only belong to a battle-worn detective or a serial killer or God. Either way, you were fucked.

A dark shadow stood above you, ominous like a closing shot of The Twilight Zone. You were dizzy from the fall and the adrenaline, blinking against the darkness to try and gauge the outlines. Tall male, broad shoulders, hands stuffed inside the pockets of a trench coat. Face darkened by the leaves of a sycamore above him. If the cold-induced mist coming out of his mouth had been cigarette smoke, he would’ve been a picture-perfect noir detective, the cover of a pulp paperback.

Mystery Man slowly removed a hand from his trench coat’s pocket. Your heart picked up its galloping, you thought you smelled blood. Your eyes were stuck on the pocket, racing with possibilities: handcuffs, a gun, Horatio Mythrol’s severed hand. No, just—a hand. His own hand. Extended towards you, palm up, like he was approaching a scared dog who needed to sniff his fingers before trusting the well-meaning stranger. It took you a moment to realize he was offering to help you up.

Probably not a serial killer, then. You lifted your right fist an inch, before you remembered the cold weight of the key, and extend your left hand instead. He grabbed you by the elbow and hurled you to your feet until your nose was a fist’s length away from his chest. He smelled like soap and rain and baby powder. You hoped he wasn’t some pervert.

“What are you doing here?” The voice was familiar. Not acquaintance-familiar, not like a neighbor or a friend. Backdrop-familiar. As if you’d heard it before in a crowded mall.

“I just…” Warning signs with Captain Reeves’ face flashed in your head. You stuffed your hands into your jacket, feigning a little shiver, dropping the key into your pocket. “I saw the squad cars and the tape.” Not a lie, a petulant little voice supplied inside you, as if you weren’t already on thin ice, I did see them.

“You live in the neighborhood?”

You knew you were walking the tight rope of what constituted honest-to-god, Pulitzer-worthy reporting. Below, the murky swamp waters of unethical journalism bubbled and invited you to fall over.

“I’m not far off.” Ten minutes wasn’t far.

“Right.” The voice gave nothing away, steady as a monitor flatlining. You couldn’t tell if he believed you.

“Are you…” Careful treading here. “Are you a detective on the case?”

You still couldn’t see his eyes, but you felt them on yours. On your shoulders, your arms, your entire face, unlike him, you didn’t have a sycamore to shield you from the moonlight. “Something like that.”

That was your cue to be a good little journo and reveal that you were press and hope you weren’t kicked out for the second time. But you had already ignored an officer’s orders, breached into private property, stepped into a crime scene. Most importantly, this man was law enforcement, and you still needed that quote. Dipping your toes in that murky water couldn’t do that much harm.

“Did…did something happen to Horatio?” You called this act Scared Neighbor. You even managed a little stutter and a shiver.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, ma’am.” You caught a glimpse of his chin when a sliver of moonlight trickled through the sycamore leaves. Patchy stubble, strong jaw.

Trying to find out. Just like you thought, another crime scene where they would get jack shit. A couple of months weren’t nearly enough to declare that a case had gone cold—not even lukewarm—and yet your source was positive that this one would never be solved. The way he’d vaguely described it, the other houses looked like your run-of-the-mill suburban burglary: upturned mattresses, open drawers, slashed cushions. But a burglary didn’t explain the missing home-owners.

It didn’t help that nearly all cops in the department were busy protecting their sponsors. Good old Nevarro PD was a delightful bottomless pit of filth—they wouldn’t give anyone a parking ticket without triple-checking that they didn’t work for someone they worked for. Looking up at the shadow in front of you, you wondered who filled his pockets.

If the detective’s grasp on your arm hadn’t tightened, you would’ve thought he’d turned to stone. Whatever. He was welcome to think he was comforting Suburban Damsel in Distress as long as he gave you the information you were fishing for.

“Oh, I hope he’s okay,” you murmured in your best Snow White voice. “I…I heard about the other cases and… You don’t think it’s connected to those, do you?”

For a second, you saw the glint of his teeth. A tiny grin or a brief snarl. “Why were you awake?”

The commotion in the front porch was getting louder, more squad cars’ tires were screeching on the asphalt, your brain was going ninety an hour. “What?”

“You said you saw the squad cars. Not hear them.” His voice sounded amused—not in a friendly way, not inviting you in on the joke. You figured he was more used to playing Bad Cop. “They didn’t wake you up. So why were you already awake, looking out the street at three a.m. if—”

Someone flicked a switch inside the bungalow, and the sliding doors came to life, flooding the backyard in bright yellow light. The hand on your elbow pulled hard, guiding you to take cover behind the sycamore and dropping to the wet grass, bellies to the ground, guerrilla style. Uniforms and boiler suits poured into the mint green living room splashed with bright orange cushions and psychedelic carpets on the walls that could only be described as “groovy.” A Ouija board in the middle of the conversation pit. Had the spirits had the chance to warn Horatio of his untimely disappearance?

The detective’s breathing was hot on your ear and strangely comforting. His shoulder against yours, his heart racing as fast as yours, both of you staring holes at the sliding doors, trying to catch some irregularity, something they’d missed on the last crime scene, anything that would make this case make sense.

You were close enough to the sliding doors to count the hairs on the officers’ heads; and they were close enough to count yours, if any of them spared a glance at the backyard. You scooted closer to the sycamore’s trunk.

The place looked trashed enough for a burglary, all right. Stabbed cushions with their cottony insides spilling to the floor, open drawers with their contents scattered, an upturned table that seemed too short and sturdy to naturally tumble to the side. Your proto mattress was also disheveled enough to fit the style of the rest of the property. What you’d thought was a small personal allotment of cannabis for Horatio’s nostalgia nights turned out to be a plot that ran all the way past the sycamore, close enough to the fence that it wouldn’t be seen by outsiders.

“Huh.”

The detective’s shadow of a head turned to look at you. “What?”

You pointed a finger at the patch. “Didn’t take the weed.”

The patch where you’d fallen was the only part of the culture that looked disturbed; the rest of the plants were tall and perky, surprisingly green and purple for the winter, and most had already flowered. Any self-respecting burglar would’ve known that cash and drugs were the easiest goods to move—no middle man, and they change hands fast enough that in a few days they’d be untraceable.

The detective remained quiet for a long second, and you were starting to wonder if you’d have to explain what you meant when he whispered, “Maybe the burglar doesn’t smoke. Or wouldn’t know where to sell it.”

You managed a quiet snort. “In this town? Toddlers here can roll blunts.”

He was quiet for a longer moment, trying on your theory like a glove, flexing his knuckles to see if it fit. “You could be right.”

You barely had time soak up the pride when the commotion outside became tomb-quiet, snatched from the root. Seconds later, an officer marched into the living room: redhead, girl boss haircut, giving every tech and cop in the living room a foul look, as if they’d all fucked up already just by existing and were in for it. None of the cops met her eye.

“Chief Bonnie looks better on TV,” you whispered.

A sharp exhale, probably his version of a laugh. “If she ever hears you call her that she’ll plant coke in your car.” The woman took slow steps around the living room; everything she saw made her eyebrows furrow deeper. “Stick to ‘Chief Kryze.’”

You grinned. “What do family and friends call her?”

“‘Chief Bo.’”

You could’ve laughed, if Chief Kryze hadn’t turned to the sliding doors. You swallowed it down and tried to sink into the muddy earth. The chief of police opened the door, stepped into the grass, made a sour face at the allotment of weed where you’d landed. The detective had gone stone-still, his breathing imperceptible, and then it hit you—if he was a detective, why was he hiding?

Chief Kryze’s combat boots crushed the grass, her gaze made the air on the backyard collapse. She approached the sycamore, stared up at its branches or the moon or the heavens. You didn’t know if you should run from her or from the stranger beside you. With a hard sigh, she turned back to the bungalow, leaving you half-relieved and half-paralyzed with fear. You still needed to get away from this man, whoever the fuck he was.

You slowly tried to get on your feet but—of course, of fucking course—your sneaker squeaked like rubber ducks.

Chief Kryze’s head whirled back like whip, she snatched the flashlight from her hip and shone it right at your faces.

“Get up!” she barked, approaching you in long strides. You stood on noodle legs, ears buzzing, squinting at the light. “Get the fuck up and—!” Two long strides and she was almost chest-to-chest with the stranger. You were trying to block out the flashlight’s glare with a hand when her voice turned low and bitter, only a step above a growl and a badge above a punch: “Djarin.”

The flashlight clicked off. You blinked against the dark spots in your vision that it left behind, big enough to cover most of the chief of police’s face, but not dark enough to black out the fiery rage in her eyes.

“Good to see you, Bo.”

“I swear to God, Djarin,” Chief Kryze spat in a harsh whisper. “I swear to fucking God that if you have anything to do with this case, I’ll—”

“You think I kidnapped Horatio? What, for kicks?”

“I wouldn’t put it above you. Lots of people in this town wouldn’t.” He promptly shut up after that—it hit a nerve. And Chief Kryze knew it, judging by the long, triumphant gulp of December air she took and the lazy tilt of her head.

She strapped her flashlight back to her hip and said in her confident TV voice, “Frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass if you did it or not. Actually, I’d love it if you had, that way I could slap a pair of handcuffs on you and throw you in gen pop, so don’t tempt me, Djarin. If I ever catch you at one of my crime scenes again, or at the station, or anywhere where I can fucking smell you, I’ll have a couple of uniforms stock your apartment full of hippie shit with Horatio’s fingerprints all over them, and sprinkle a bit of his hair there too, so I can be sure it sticks. I don’t have to tell you where that special someone you’ve got at home would be spending Christmas—I hear you’re well acquainted with that place, too.”

She closed her speech with a short exhale and a winning grin that, even in the dark, you could tell contained no joy—it was all teeth. Her eyes fell on you for the first time, looked you up and down, quirked an eyebrow. “You brought a date?”

“Came here all by herself.” Still his steady, low voice, rough like pavement; it tickled your spine. If not for the next thing he said, you would’ve liked the sensation: “She’s press. Nevarro Bee, right?”

The tickle became a sting, like an icicle lodged between your vertebrae.

You were gonna be sick. “I… I mean…”

“Unless you want your speech word for word on tomorrow’s front page, Kryze, I suggest we both forget about tonight. We both know Fett won’t think twice about printing it.”

Bonnie Katan-Kryze grabbed your wrist and yanked your paralyzed self towards the light spilling from the sliding doors. She gave you a look that matched the weather, a snarl pulling at her lip, her nostrils flaring. She was memorizing your face.

When you looked back at the sycamore, the man’s shadow was gone. Fuck him. Whoever that man was—pervert or detective or serial killer—, fuck him. He threw you like bait and scurried away to save his own ass.

“Unless you’re fucking brain dead,” Chief Kryze said slowly, as if she were, in fact, talking to an idiot, “I don’t think I have to tell you what will happen if you even think about printing anything you heard tonight.” Her fingernails dug into your wrist. “Because if you think that your little friend back there had it bad, you have no idea—”

The sliding doors opened a crack.

“Hey, Chief.” This time, you knew exactly whose voice that was.

“What?”

“Better take a look at this.”

Chief Kryze rolled her eyes and turned to the officer, ready to tell him to fuck off, when she let go of your wrist. The officer was holding the Ouija board. It was made of a dark wood that looked expensive, decorated with intricate arabesques, pentagrams, a siren. The letters were carved rather than drawn—and blood filled letters N to Z, numbers 1 to 0 and the “Goodbye” sign at the bottom.

Kryze dug a pair of latex gloves out of her pocket. Her hands were shaking when she put them on. “Mayfeld,” she said, as she carefully took the board from him. “Escort this woman off the crime scene. Frisk her for a note pad or a recorder. Take her name and address.”

Chief Kryze stepped into the living room looking ten years older; Officer Mayfeld stepped out looking like he was trying real hard not to give you a black eye. You followed him to the back of the yard, where you could see the river shining black. He opened a gate on the corner of the property and shoved you into the empty lot next to Horatio Mythrol’s house. You almost crashed face-first into an idle scissor lift. Fuck knows what they were building in there.

“So,” he says behind you, clasping his hands together, “did you hit your fucking head or something?”

Now that danger wasn’t imminent and the adrenaline had crashed, you wanted to sleep for three days. You were cold, tired and dirty with mud where that fucker had made you lay down on the ground. The last thing you were in the mood for was Mayfeld’s lecture. “Give me a break.”

“No, I’m serious. You need me to call you an ambulance, sweetheart? Because I don’t understand how anyone without brain injury would walk into a fucking crime scene—into Chief Kryze’s fucking crime scene—and get caught!” Under the moonlight, Migs Mayfeld looked paler than a ghost—a ghost about to get audited, pacing back and forth, rubbing a palm on his head. “You got any idea what you’re playing at? Huh? Why don’t you just print my face on the front page next time and call me a snitch?”

“Relax, nobody noticed I even knew you, let alone that you’re my source.”

“Source? I’m not your fucking source. I called you this once as—as a professional courtesy—”

“—because I did your fucking job for you. You would’ve never been first on scene to collect your Good Boy Badge if I hadn’t told you—”

“—I called you so you could write the story before any newspaper, not so you could come skipping with your goddamn notepad to play detective and network with the crowd. Who was that on the backyard, anyway? The guy Chief Kryze was talking to?”

He stopped pacing, breathing hard, but suddenly calm, his tone gentler. Piece of work, Mayfeld was. He could be booking you for murder and he’d still try to figure out a way to be buddies if it benefitted him.

You kicked a pebble. “Don’t know. Chief Kryze called him ‘Djarin.’”

Migs Mayfeld stared at you like you were Horatio Mythrol’s ghost making a peace sign. He didn’t blink for a full minute and then murmured, “Jesus H Christ.”

That got your heart racing again. “What?” You pictured Most Wanted lists, local prowlers, ex-cons. You’d been checking those lists since you started digging into this case, but you hadn’t been able to see the man’s face; you wouldn’t have recognized him either way. “Is he a suspect?” You thought of his hot breath on your ear, so close to each other.

Migs shook his head. “Christ, you really are new at this.” You gave him a blank stare until he exhaled the last of his patience. “Din Djarin? Private detective Din Djarin? Public-fucking-enemy number one to every cop in this town? Solved the Tusken Murders last year and made Chief Kryze look like a moron? Ring a bell?”

A chilly gust of wind came blowing from the south. Mayfeld trembled like a leaf, his teeth rattled like bones. He couldn’t stop shaking his head.

“If Din Djarin’s got his head in this case, it means we really are fucked,” he murmured, pacing again. “Happy fucking holidays to me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

taglist: not sure?? who to tag??? i don't know any taglist etiquette + i know a lot of you were in for rmrb, so please don't hesitate to let me know if you wanto to be removed or if you only want to be tagged in Rule Maker, Rule Breaker stuff

@rosetophighlander​ @hellomothermoon @newyorksins​ @leo-moon @benedrylcumbersnatch @corrupt-fvcker @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @multifandomlife22 @justanotherblonde23 @abysshaven @equalstrashflavoredtrash @16boyfriends-and-me @ihaveashield @dinispunk @bananaagurl @mstgsmy @absurdthirst @cowboy-kylo @roxypeanut @heyitmelexie @readsalot73 @krazykatkay456 @elusive-danger-noodle @ofstardustandbone @nikkiparthena @lifeisapitch15 @teaofpeach @auty-ren @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical​ @pascaliprincess​ @geannad​ @coaaster​ @frietiemeloen​ @yourbucky084​ @brynnstudies​ @elfwoodfae​ @ms-fatally-yours @hansonveggieclub @artsymaddie @the-scandalorian @tilltheendwilliwrite @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical @pascaliprincess @f4llingfairy @shestillwrites1 @itsjustaphase8 @lackofhonor @geannad @sofithewitch @sfr99 @thatonedindjarinfan @yooforia @dar-manda-rjct @starsfordays @usualsworld @greeneyedblondie44 @the-importance-of-being-sasuke @promiscuoussatan @carbonite-cruncher @speideysimpossiblegirl @fangirl-316 @multifandom-superlover @sirianisrock @hdlynn @hellabaybee @lellowberry @thevoiceinyourheadx @dins-helmet @cowboy-kylo @coaaster @djarrex @ms-fatally-yours

[ipuckwithhockey]

Easier Said Than Done- M. Tkachuk

Part 1

Part 2- Can’t stay away from you

summary: Matt knows this is a bad idea but he can’t help himself when the universe keeps bringing you into his life.

a/n: part 2 is here y’all! i hope you enjoy it. let me know what you think!

warnings: cursing

You’ve been settled into a table at a coffee shop for a couple hours with your “time to study” playlist blaring through your headphones and you don’t notice a tall blue-eyed man approach you. When he taps your shoulder unexpectedly you practically jump out of your chair, causing your hand that was writing your beautifully organized notes to knock your cup of coffee off the table, shattering on impact as it hits the floor. The man has quick reflexes though, and is able to jump back and out of the way of the falling cup. 

“Fuck! Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The man blurts out as you try to take in what just happened. 

You take your headphones out of your ears so you can hear what he’s saying, “Sorry what? I- I couldn’t hear you.” You stutter a bit when you look up at him and realize who he is. You don’t know him, but you do recognize him. 

He was at the Giordano’s about a week ago for their son’s birthday party. You remember seeing him there, his curly mop of hair and broad shoulders had caught your eye, but you also recognized him from somewhere else. You recognized him from the pictures that Lauren has framed around their home, from the advertisements plastered across the city, and from the TV when you get a chance to watch a Flames game. Matthew Tkachuk just scared the shit out of you and you almost spilt a coffee all over him.  

An employee comes over to help you clean up the mess that has been made and sweeps the broke glass away. You and Matthew do your best to help but end up awkwardly apologizing to the employee and then thanking them when they’ve finished cleaning up. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Probably would have gone for a different approach had I known that was going to happen,” Matthew says. 

“Oh, it’s fine. I was just taking—” You look down at the table and you notice that your once beautifully crafted notes are now splotched with coffee. You can’t help it, you try to control it, but the tears start to pierce the corners of your eyes without your approval. It’s completely embarrassing but your stress over law school is winning over your pride and composure. Matthew can see your chin start to tremble and even though you’re trying to hide it, the look on your face says it all. 

“Are you okay?” Matthew asks cautiously.

“Y-yeah” you choke out. “mfine. It’s fine.” Your cheeks are lightly stained with tears and you’re sniffling between words, trying to get a grip and steady your breath as you start to gather your notes. You try to make yourself busy without looking up, not wanting to make eye contact, and praying that he might just leave you be. Instead, he gently wraps a hand around your forearm to get you to look at him. 

“Hey hey. It’s okay. I’m sure we can fix it.” He says with concern in his eyes. He’s trying to be gentle with you because the look in your eyes says you might just crack again as you shake your head no, looking at your notes. Matt doesn’t really know what to do in this situation but he does know that he hates seeing you upset and will do anything to try to help. “Here, how about we start by sitting down.” He motions for you to sit in the chair you jumped from moments ago, “And I’ll get you another coffee, okay?” He asks, still looking at you with caution. You can’t say anything because you’re afraid you might cry again so you just shake your head telling him okay before he leaves to go order you another coffee.

While he’s gone, you’re able to calm yourself down, taking some deep breathes as you tell yourself it will be okay. You know it will be and you know that your stress is causing you to over dramatize the events that have unfolded. You also know that you have another set of the same notes at home and that you were just redoing them to help you study. A few minutes later Matthew returns with the coffee cup he held earlier in one hand and a new one in his other. He sits the other cup down in front of you and to your surprise he takes the seat across form yours. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” You thank your voice for not giving out on you and for sounding somewhat normal as you speak. Embarrassment doesn’t exactly cover what you’re feeling, and you’re surprised that Matthew has stuck around this long in general, but now he’s sitting down in front of you and doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere any time soon. 

“I think it’s the least I could do considering I scared the hell out of you, broke a glass… and then made you cry...”  He looks down sheepishly as he says the last one. He feels horrible and quite frankly, very out of his league in this situation. Not only did he ignore his promise to Gio to stay away from you, but he’s also managed to get you to hate him in about five seconds. What makes him feel even worse is that you’re still being so nice to him. This is only adding to his growing infatuation with you, and he curses himself for not having the will power to walk away the moment he saw you. 

You blush out of embarrassment, “I’m the one who should be apologizing to you, and they’re just notes, it’s fine. I actually have a copy at home. I’m just stressed, and I freaked out but I promise you it’s totally fine.” You try to reassure him and the concern he’s showing, and instinctively letting your hand rest on top of his. A simple comforting gesture that wouldn’t mean anything to most people, lit a fire in Matthew that he wasn’t prepared for. His eyes are glued to your hand and when you notice you quickly pull it back, but not without noticing how large and warm it was. But before you get a chance to apologize Matt is asking you what you’re studying for and trying to cover up the blush that has settled across his cheeks. 

“It’s for the exam at the end of the semester, so not for a few months but I—“

“You’re already studying for a test that’s months away?” He looks at you like you’re crazy, and you laugh because when you broke down crying a few minutes ago he seemed pretty collected but now he’s downright flabbergasted, “I’m Matt by the way,” he adds quickly, realizing that you might not know who he is and that it would be polite to formally introduce himself. 

You let out a little laugh, “Yeah, most of my grade is based off of the one exam so you have to study for it all semester.” You explain to him as he nods but still looks confused. “…I’m y/n, you were at Gio’s the other day for Jack’s birthday party, right?” you ask him, and Matt is astonished that you even noticed he was there. Every time he looked at you, you were either entertaining the kids around you or having what looked to be very mature conversations with the adults that made Matt feel incredibly of place.

“Yeah I was. I uh- that’s actually why I came over here in the first place. I recognized you.” Matthew says trying not to sound too creepy, and you can’t help but smile because you can’t believe he even noticed you. Being noticed by any cute guy is one thing, but Matthew Tkachuk had that kind of bad boy vibe that made him that much more irresistible. 

“Oh. Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. The kids talk about you all the time.” You say.

The Giordano kids loved Matt and when you babysat on game nights the three of you would sit together on the couch in matching jerseys, all with the number 5 on the back, but whenever number 19 would get into a scrum the kids would go wild. Reese used to get upset every time it would happen, but her brother has taught her to cheer instead now. Jack really admires Matt and sometimes during mini sticks, instead of pretending to be his dad he’ll pretend to be Matt. (You just try to keep the pretend scrums to a minimum.) It was adorable and he is obviously attractive, but you aren’t immune to the rumors that float around town. He’s a playboy who can take a different girl home every time he goes out. Even Mark and Lauren have even made comments about his bachelor lifestyle. 

Despite those rumors and the comments, you’re genuinely surprised by Matt. He stays with you at your table for over an hour as the two of you talk. You expected him to be pompous and cocky and just like all those douche bags that you met in college. He was cocky, but you didn’t expect him to be so nice or sweet, or even funny. You definitely didn’t expect him to flirt with you. It wasn’t anything too over the top, but subtle things in the tone in which he would speak made you think he was trying to flirt.

Over the hour that you spent together he asked you about your relationship with the Giordano’s and he had plenty of questions about law school. It was actually really sweet. Matt hadn’t gone to college, skipping that step, and opting to go to the OHL before signing with the Flames. Most of his knowledge of the university experience came from his brother Brady’s short stint at Boston College, or a few stories he heard from his friends back home. He didn’t know a lick about law school, and he’s fascinated listening to you explain things that are surely going right over his head. 

He gets so caught up in you that he doesn’t realize how much time has passed and when he looks down at his phone, he realizes that he’s going to be late for a meeting and can’t help but feel a little sad. He doesn’t want this conversation to end and if it does, he doesn’t want it to be a singular occurrence, which is what has him asking if he can have your number. 

And despite the little voices in your head telling you no, you end up saying yes. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” You reply not able to hide your smile. He’s charming and handsome and completely out of your league, but you figure it won’t hurt to give him your number anyway. He might not even use it, right?

*

A few days later you find yourself sitting in a fancy chair in a boutique that sells $50 scrunchies as you watch Lauren try on a dress that probably costs as much as your rent. She insisted that the two of you go shopping before lunch— on her of course, and no matter how many times you told her that you couldn’t let her do that, she stood her ground and insisted it was her treat. It’s been a couple hours of shopping and you don’t know how Lauren can do this for so long.  If shopping was a sport Lauren would be winning gold at the Olympics, you however wouldn’t even qualify.

You let her buy you a new blouse that you’ll probably get more use out of when you get a job at a law firm and a swanky dress that was probably only appropriate for a fancy party. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get to wear it, and would never have spent that much money on something that you would get so little use out of, but Lauren really hyped you up and when she offered to buy it you couldn’t say no. 

“So,” she says as she sits down in the chair next to yours, “What’s been going on in your life that isn’t school?”

You laugh at that. All you really do is go to class and study right now. It’s pretty hard to keep a job in law school so you’re basically just a full time student. You don’t really have a social life unless it’s studying with your friends or maybe an occasional lunch or dinner out. There’s really nothing new on the ‘not school’ front and you tell her that, getting a lack luster facial expression from her in return. 

“You work too much! You’re young! This is the time in your life to go out and have fun!” She exclaims. Lauren completely admires your work ethic and she’s incredibly proud of you but the mom in her wants to make sure that you’re not missing out on some of the best years of your life because you’re too busy studying. She means well and she has a point, you probably could be a little more active in your social life and this in turn makes you remember who you saw a few days earlier. 

“You’ll never guess who I ran into the other day.” You say as you wait for Lauren to change back into her clothes. 

“Oh!? Who was it? Is he cute?” She asks from behind the curtain of the dressing room, and without even knowing if it was a guy, but not so secretly hoping it is. 

“It was Matthew Tkachuk. And yeah, I guess he is kinda cute.” you joke. 

You can see the surprise on her face as she pops her head out from behind the curtain, “Where in the world did you run into him?” She asks in reply, but you make her finish changing and check out of the store before you answer her. Lauren may be able to shop until she drops but you’re ready for lunch and if you have to hang this over her head to get there, then that’s what you’ll do. 

The two of you leave the store, Lauren with another bag in her hand, and walk around the corner to the restaurant for lunch. “So, where the hell did you run into Chucky” She asks as you settle into your seat and pick up the sleek menu sitting in front of you. 

“Well, if you must know, I was studying at that coffee shop by my apartment, and he came up behind me and scared the shit out of me. I knocked my coffee on the floor and everything.” You tell her in a little bit of a mocking tone, knowing that she’s a sucker for gossip. “He felt really bad though, and bought me another coffee after he made me cry—“

“He did WHAT!?” 

“Well, the coffee got on my notes and I was just really stressed about school so I kind of started crying...” 

“So he wasn’t mean to you? He didn’t do anything rude, did he?” She asks in her best mom voice. It makes you chuckle, and you tell her no, explaining that it was just an accident. You also tell her about how he stayed and talked to you for a while. “He actually surprised me. He’s not as... I don’t know... dick-ish?” That probably wasn’t the best way to describe it, but it probably got the message across but when you look up you can see something brewing on Lauren’s face and it resembles worry. 

“Listen, I’m just going to be straightforward with you. He’s a good guy, but he lacks... Well, he lacks some maturity on the relationship side of his life. I know he can be very charming, but I can’t promise that he won’t hurt you. The stats aren’t good, and I don’t want to see you get hurt by him.” You haven’t even told her about him asking for your number, and because of this, you choose not to. Instead, you tell her not to worry about it, and that you don’t think that door will be opening anytime soon anyway. There might be a very small part of you that is a little let down because he hasn’t called or texted since you gave him your number, but you push that thought to the side. Lauren had a point too, there isn’t any guarantee that you wouldn’t get hurt and right now you need to be focusing on school, and not on a hypothetical relationship. 

*

The next time that Matt sees you it’s not by his doing. He’s tried his best to keep away from you and has resisted using the number that sits heavy in his cellphone. Instead, he stalks your Instagram and goes through your Twitter likes. He feels like he’s back in middle school again as he begins to pick apart pieces of your life. You apparently read. A lot. And most of your liked tweets are from the Sparknotes account or niche memes that Matt doesn’t understand. He may not understand them, but it doesn’t keep him from reading every single one of them in hopes of gaining some sort of insight into your life. 

On more than one occasion he has sat up at night thinking about texting you, asking what you were up to and hoping you would come over. He never did because he knew that one night wouldn’t be enough. Night after night he could have a different girl come and go from his bed, but for the first time in a long time he didn’t want a girl for just one night. But he couldn’t even let himself pick up the phone to ask you out on a proper date because his captain asked him explicitly to stay away. He couldn’t disobey a direct order. And who knows, maybe he wouldn’t be any good at any of this relationship stuff anyway. Unfortunately, that didn’t keep him from wanting to try. All these factors only added to the list of reasons why he couldn’t let himself pick up the phone and call you. He couldn’t justify it and so he pushed the thought to the side. 

The world works in mysterious ways though, and sometimes it will continue to bring two people together no matter how much they fight it. That’s exactly what happened as Matthew came by to pick up Mark on his way to the arena and you were on your way into the house to babysit for the game. You were just getting out of your car when Matthew pulled up in the driveway beside you. 

You can see that it’s him and you try to rush around his car and into the house before you can experience anymore embarrassment. He asked for your number weeks ago and clearly hasn’t used it.  There wasn’t any obligation to do so, but you figure you can assume that asking for someone’s number implies that they are going to use it, except he never did. So maybe he just asked out of pity or maybe he asked and changed his mind.

“Y/N!” You hear him call out your name following the sound of his car door shutting, stopping you in your tracks as you slowly turn to face him. 

“Matt! Hey!” you say a bit too enthusiastically and like you hadn’t seen it was him in the car.

The two of you are at a standstill, neither one knowing what to say or how to act with the looming fact that Matt has your number in his pocket but hasn’t chosen to use it. He knows that he shouldn’t have even asked for the number in the first place and that he’s gotten himself into this mess but now doesn’t know how to get himself out. 

“Um. So I-“

“It’s totall-“

You both start to talk at the same time but you insist that he finish his statement first, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about not calling. I know that’s a dick move-” 

You cut him off, feeling a twinge of confidence arise, “So why didn’t you?” You ask innocently but knowing that you’ve caught the hotshot off guard. 

“Um- I just I don’t know if this is a good idea.” He replies. 

“Well how can you know if you don’t try? Isn’t that the whole point of going on a date?” You say and then realize that maybe he didn’t want your number to ask you out. Maybe he just wanted to see if you would be willing to crawl into his be one night and out the next morning. 

You don’t get a chance to answer. Gio is coming out the front door and doesn’t seem to even notice that the two of you are in the middle of a conversation. He simply waves goodbye to you and ushers Matt back to his car as he starts to talk about something to do with Johnny. Matt does his best to play it off cool, hoping to god Gio hasn’t noticed, and thankfully he doesn’t mention you at all on the drive to the rink. 

Spending time with the kids was just what you needed as a break from your classes, and you let the kids stay up until Lauren gets home from the game. The Flames won 3-1 and the kids couldn’t have been better for you. You’re in such a great mood that when Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody comes on the radio, you turned it up full blast so that you can sing at the top of your lungs. The earlier encounter with Matthew is long forgotten as you sing and dance to the radio on your way home. With the radio turned up you don’t hear a text come through. You don’t even see until you’re snuggled up in bed, ready to set your alarm for the next morning, and when you click on the unknown number you’re more than surprised when you read what the message says.

Maybe: Matt: Hey it’s Matt. I think you might be right about the dating thing. Are you free Thursday night?

[cowboycunt]

🎃 halloween horror 👻

hello!! happy almost october!!!! here are some nice horror (ish) themed fic recs for your perusing :)

Giant, Anguish, Danger (E, 73k)

the sexual tension and psychological suspension here are very nice. set in minnesota (my beloved) and features some cool mythology. essentially tfw + kevin get lost in a snowy forest and are we hunting the monster or is the monster hunting us?

Raining Blue (M, 8k)

perfect if you want a little gore before bed. i read this at night while some cats went at it outside my window, i was properly spooked. something in the house doesn’t want tfw to leave. cas gets very hurt in this.

***I Cleanse The Mirror (T, 25k)

another snowy forest horror. dean and cas share a body in this which is fun. a great character study on cas. i really enjoyed reading this. def read if you think a bit too much about angel biology or how cas is such a self sacrificing bastard. 

***Death Rattles (E, 30k)

ooh this one actually scared me a fair bit. great psychological horror. is the house haunted? is cas just going crazy?? this one might fit the more strict ‘horror’ genre the best - i could see it playing like a movie as i read it.

Bring Up the Deep (E, 22k)

the ambiance of this is just *chefs kiss* they’re in rainy seaside maine and there are sea monsters(???). tbh i have an irrational fear of boats so i was vaguely uncomfortable for a good portion of reading this but that’s probably just me. also has a nice side of deancas but dean doesn’t want sam to know. i’ve never read stephen king but i feel like the vibes are similar. idk.

***The Body (NR, 20k)

sooo nice and spooky - i read this during the day and was still jumping a bit. set during the divorce arc of s15, so the relationship drama is in full swing and quite well written. dean and cas can’t figure out what’s up with jane doe and they can’t sort out their problems either.

the following story takes place at night (M, 12k, animal abuse cw, past sexual assault cw)

okay this one is honestly p disturbing but i was so captivated. the author has a very unique writing style that fits perfectly for the genre. essentially it’s a kinda canonverse au where cas is a cult leader and the boys don’t know if he’s actually an angel or not. would recommend but not for the faint of heart

disclaimer: i’ve noticed a lot of horror genre fic recs have mcd. cool!! good for you!!! not my cup of tea though. as such, none of these fics have mcd. one has a majorish minor character death but that’s in their tags. that being said, these fics are horror themed so some of these are pretty graphic in the body horror department. as an fyi.

[anosrepasi]

3, 13, and 15 for Kint?

oh!! I cannot describe how much time I've spent just pouring through Kint again after receiving this ask, especially to answer the first number and like, now I’ve had to be like, oh no this is actually pretty good and holds up a lot better than i remembered oh no. (oh no) 3. What's your favorite line of narration? This is a difficult question!!! This is an insanely difficult question and I've been rereading Kint trying to see if anything jumped out at me but this also made me realize that I really did not do some of the really big "go big or go home" lines of narration like I've done recently in Lingua Franca. I think my favorite one-off choice has to be the use of very basic file management/html functions littered into chapters with Nick POV, especially the use of (C:\functions\automated\non-essential\stimuli responses\scanned\inhale.exe) in chap 3. in terms of very purposeful narration choices, I adore chapter 8. Specifically, I adore chapter 8 because it combines a lot of ideas on how horror reflects the anxieties of a person's time and along that line how people in the commonwealth would probably find comparisons to machines/synths really discomforting because of the synth panic. So in this chapter you get two characters sizing up the other for threats/danger and both use totally different language/metaphors to describe the perceived danger. Shep would use pretty standard descriptions of comparing Hancock to that of an apex predator, which is a pretty common analogy in books i feel. Meanwhile, Hancock's like, this chick has machine vibes. I remember putting a lot of thought into the craft of that chapter and god i still love it to pieces.

13. What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I have playlists for each character or for a fic overall usually! For Kint I had character specific playlists and for anyone who uses spotify you can listen to them here:

Shep

Nick

Hancock

For each playlist I kinda like to have a “core“ of songs/genres to build my tone for the character. For Shep its a lot of songs about being a loner and also just fem singers talking about committing crimes? My theme song for her is The Mission “M is for Milla Mix” by Puscifer Nick is a lot of songs on the themes of past lives, ghosts, dissociation/numbness, and songs that give off a certain film nior feel. My theme song for him is Cardiac Arrest by The Bad Suns or Flashed Junk Mind by Milky Chance For Hancock is Viva la Revolutionary vibes and general uh “my life is a dumpster fire/here for a good time not a long time” vibes. Lots of twenty one pilots and Panic! at the disco for this guy. My theme song for him would probably be Angel of Small Death & The Codeine Scene by Hozier or Arrows by Fences and like... Macklamore lmao.

15. What did you learn from writing this fic?

The biggest take away from Kint so far has been Space. Out. Your. Fics.

If i can find my notes, i think i have uh. 80? chapters of Kint outlined. I theoretically could divide that into 5 main stories but the way ive set it up it works best as one giant fic. thats insane. ive ready 60+ chap fics before, i dont think i want to really write one lmao. I guess I’m going to in order to write this story out all the way?? I have the epilogue written lmao. In comparison, fics i’ve written since Kint have been much more planned out to have natural ending points if its a long story so it could be broken into multiple fics. I think a lot of this was from the fact that in 2016? when i started Kint i was reading a lot more long fics that had 100+ chapters and that was kind of the trend with a lot of fandoms back then? and recently I’ve read many more fantastic series that utilize multiple fics to tell a really complex story (the first two that jump to mind are Wind_Ryder’s Methuselah's Children for The Old Guard and StudioRat’s Branches and Fate for Legend of Zelda. The second take away, on a positive balancing note, is have fun with the actual craft/physical aspect of writing! Use pseudocode for a robot character, play with how you write character voice and narration! there are no real rules on what you can do with the craft of writing and this fic was my gateway to realizing that, quickly followed by reading Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves. Final thoughts- Thanks for the ask. I’ve already messaged you on this but uh. this may have awakened something in me. I might write for Kint again? I guess? Especially now that I’ve reread it and am listening to the baller playlists i made for the characters? If you want to talk more and exponentially increase chances of future writing feel free to message or like ask more questions or just talk about FO4?

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 3

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

“Going off the information I have listed here, it appears as though you’ll be receiving subject N-45, today. She’s a healthy 22 year old female. Her short, but muscular body weighs 95lbs with a childish height of 4’10” tall. She possesses primarily Romanian and Filipino ancestry, with some Dutch or Finnish or... whatever, thrown in there as well. And according to the various items we found on her person when she was first brought in, she’s apparently a graduate student at the University of Bucharest, or, at least she was, before she drove her car into a tree while driving up the mountain and was recovered by Heisenberg” Miranda explains robotically, reading aloud from a piece of paper held inside a thick manila envelope. “Of the 4 remaining test subjects, N-45 is easily the most violent and difficult one to work with, having to be either anesthetized or restrained every time I wanted to so much as take her vitals or stabilize her condition. When given smaller doses of sedatives she-”

For the first time in his entire life, Salvatore completely ignores whatever unimportant nonsense Mother Miranda is going on about, continuing to take in and analyze the strikingly unique appearance of the young woman before him.

Upon first inspection, N-45 appeared to resemble that of a normal woman in just about every way possible. Her hair was scruffy and very short, barely long enough to reach her eyes, and a deep black color that looked so soft and luxurious that Salvatore ached to run his fingers through it. Her face was slightly round, giving the young woman a very youthful appearance, with her sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones being some of the only things keeping Salvatore from mistaking her for a child. And lastly, her... figure, if Salvatore had to put such an embarrassing idea into words, was similar to that of Mother Miranda, only shorter, more compact even. It reminded the hooded man of those small packets of candy Duke occasionally gifted him that said “fun sized” on the label, in reference to them being much smaller than the standard sized candy bars and yet somehow being… better, despite technically giving you less candy.

She was already perfect as she was, but it was not just N-45’s beautiful human features that pulled Salvatore in and refused to let him escape the stupefaction he’d been placed under, but also her mutations.

A soft royal blue coated her from head to toe, giving way only to a large patch of solid white located on her chest and stomach. Her skin catches the light in a way that reveals areas of tiny overlapping scales, glimmering like stars in the midnight sky, or freshly polished armor, perhaps, along the bony ridges and tender curves of her figure.

Small white dots distributed like paint splatters across the colored sections of her flesh give a similar visual effect as freckles, starting from her hairline and extending all the way down to the very tips of her toes. These galaxies of white were invisible only on the white patch along the front of her torso, as well as on the lighter blue hue taken on by both the palms and webbings of her hands and feet.

Long Fin-like extensions grew along both her forearms and lower back. The former extended outward and inward like a windshield wiper, likely used to decrease water resistance. The latter, however, perhaps used to increase fine motor maneuverability while swimming at greater speeds or in tighter spaces, grew straight downwards from her lower back in an overlapping fan configuration that marginally covered her rear end, though not by very much. The fins looked like a soft, delicate material that was probably very flexible but very durable, if Salvatore had to guess just from looking.

And to top everything off, N-45 even appeared to even have gills, 2 different sets by the looks of it. The first set of 3 breathing slits was located horizontally along both sides of her neck, while the second set could be found on both sides of her torso, following the downward angle of her ribs but stopping just underneath her soft, plump-looking breasts.

Salvatore feels a sudden wave of heat cascade over his body and he turns his face away in shameful embarrassment as he suddenly realizes that N-45, much like every test subject undergoing cadou treatment, was still very, very nude at the present moment.

“I can’t make any promises regarding her disposition, but physically speaking, she’s ready to be released to you whenever you’d like. I’ll have some of the villagers transport and release her into the reservoir later this week” Mother Miranda says, pressing a button to close the pod now that Salvatore was no longer staring at her.

“W-wait just a m-moment” Salvatore calls out, prompting Mother Miranda to halt the closing of the pod.

“Yes? What is it?” The woman asks curtly, clearly not wanting to stand here and watch Salvatore any longer than she has to.

Wringing his hands together nervously, Salvatore meekly asks, “C-could… could y-you wake h-her up… s-so that I can s-speak with her… j-just for a m-moment?”

Mother Miranda remains silent for a moment, blank face staring directly at Salvatore as she contemplates what to do.

“No, Moreau,” she says finally. “I’ve had a very busy day today and I'm quite tired. N-45 is a menace that I struggle to deal with even on my best days. The last thing I need is something going wrong and her getting out and causing all sorts of chaos.”

Salvatore’s shoulders slump in disappointment, but he makes no further attempts to argue.

Mother Miranda rolls her eyes at the incredibly childish display, walking over to place a gentle hand on Salvatore’s head. “Would it make you feel better if I agreed to have N-45 be the first of the subjects to be dropped off? It’ll be more difficult than my original plan, but I suppose it was a bit unfair that you were the only one who didn’t get to “pick” their gift.”

“Yes, M-Mother Miranda… I-I’d like th-that very… very m-much” Salvatore says, leaning into the touch as Mother Miranda begins guiding him back toward the hallway leading to the exit door.

It wasn’t until after Miranda had exited the lab and begun walking down the long hallway toward the exit that Salvatore dared cast another glance back at the pod that contained N-45, wistfully thinking of how amazing her hand had felt in his, and how much he wanted to speak to her.

Just as the disfigured man was about to turn back and follow Miranda out of the laboratory, a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, prompting Salvatore to tense and snap toward the 4 pods, frantically trying to figure out what it was he saw. A few seconds of stillness pass before Salvatore sees movement again, not freely moving about the room like he originally expected, but from within one of the 4 pods, his pod to be exact.

His curiosity momentarily outweighing his nerves, Salvatore slowly approaches the metal capsule, trying to get a look through the small pane of glass that allows visual access into the holding pod.

Another flash of movement has Salvatore flinching, jumping back as though he’d been advanced upon. After several seconds of stillness, however, the hooded man regains his confidence and once again inches his way toward the capsule, moving his head up and down to try and get one more glimpse at N-45 before he has to leave. One last look before she lays eyes upon his vile and disgusting body for the first time, screaming and calling him a monster as she runs away, leaving him alone and without anyone to call his own. Just like always.

“ Hello ?”

Salvatore froze dead in his tracks, his heart pounding and his lungs refusing to take in air, as a soft, muffled, questioning voice reaches the deformed man’s ears, followed by two golden orbs with narrow black slits running vertically through the center, that slowly peek into view from the bottom of the glass window. Salvatore’s eyes widen in shock as he quickly realizes that the orbs of gold are not, in fact, just spheres of color, but rather a pair of eyes, staring intently at him from inside the pod.

“Uuuuuh… u-u-uuum… I-i… I w-was just…” the disfigured man stuttered as he struggled to move his body, seemingly paralyzed by the bewitching gaze currently locked onto him, looking at him with an intensity that makes Salvatore wonder if this is what it feels like to be a cell put under a microscope.

It isn’t until Salvatore notices the golden orbs moving and shifting from one corner of the window pane to the other that the hooded man realizes, to his immediate horror, that he might not be the only one trying to get a better look at the figure located on the other side of the pod door. Panic and fear immediately fill Salvatore from deep within, growing strong enough to allow him to finally overcome his temporary paralysis and skitter away from view. Pulling his hood even further over his petrifyingly grotesque face in shame of himself, Salvatore flees the laboratory as quickly as his hobbled limp would allow.

His heart pounds to the beat of the soft, but desperate pleas of protest coming from N-45’s pod in response to Salvatore’s rapidly retreating form, yet the hooded man cannot bring himself to believe what he hears as true. Perhaps believing that the siren-like voice he hears echoing off the metal laboratory walls to be nothing more than a trick of his sick and lonely mind, Salvatore does not stop, nor does he turn back around until he’s met up with Mother Miranda at the exit to the surface, lungs burning and legs aching from running for so far and long.

“Oh, there you are, Moreau,” Mother Miranda says suddenly, stopping just before they are about to exit the laboratory. “I’m glad you chose this time to finally catch up, because I just realized a second ago that I’d forgotten to give you N-45’s previous name. You can name her something else if you’d prefer, of course, but I offered the information to your siblings so I suppose I should offer it to you as well. Would you still like to know N-45’s name, or would you rather abandon her given name for one of your own choosing?”

After a few seconds of silent contemplation, Salvatore lifts his head, “I… I-i would like to k-know… her n-name… please...” the mutant man says softly.

Mother Miranda briefly raises a questioning eyebrow at Salvatore’s nervous body language, but ultimately rolls her eyes and shrugs her shoulders, all but tossing the Manila envelope containing N-45’s information at the hooded man before disappearing out the large metal door.

“If you’re going to read that now, feel free, but return to the meeting room once you're done. And be sure to lock the door to my laboratory behind you” Miranda commands, her voice having grown echoey due to how far away she now was.

“Yes, M-Mother” Salvatore calls after her as he scrambles to catch the thrown file and prevent any loose papers from falling out. Once he’s got a solid handle on the thick envelope, he opens it, casting a quick glance back in the direction of the pod room, where Nadine and the other 3 gifts were being held for the time being.

Returning to the file, Salvatore frantically flips through every page, trying to find the one that held N-45’s personal background information.

After several minutes of desperate flipping back and forth, Salvatore finally focuses on one particular piece of paper that looked to have been in the file for the longest. Pulling out the particular page he’d found, the disfigured man drops the rest of the folder onto the ground and begins rapidly skimming through the information printed on the page, his hungry eyes refusing to stop until they finally zeroed in on the information he’d been looking for.

Project: E.V.A. Resurrection

Subject: N-45

Parasite Administered: Cadou (Series- N; Strain- 45)

Family Name: Bogdan

Given Name: Nadine

“N… Nadine” Salvatore said slowly, feeling slightly lightheaded and out of breath as each individual letter of the young woman’s name rolled off his tongue like Camembert cheese; smooth, creamy, decedent, and likely to keep him up all night with an upset stomach and a racing heartbeat.

Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine. Nadine.

The name quickly became a broken loop played over and over and over again inside Salvatore’s head, his mind unable, or rather unwilling, to think of anything else as he read, reread, and then re-reread Nadine’s name at least 100 times, before finally setting the piece of paper down.

“Nadine...” Salvatore breathes the name once again, his voice carrying a wistful tone. “E-even your n-name is wonderful...”

An already beautiful woman, made even more perfect through the power of science and Mother Miranda’s grace, only for all that potential to end up wasted in the hands of a desperately lonely and horrifically mangled fish mutant, who was more likely to accidentally dissolve her in stomach acid than woo her like some kind of aquatic Prince Charming.

“Y-ya right... e-e-even with a-another mutant… I’m s-still so disgusting a-an… and horrifying in comparison… n-not even my o-own kind can b-bring thems-themselves to love me f-for who I a-am… not th-that there’s much of m-me that’s worth l-loving to begin w-with” Moreau laments to himself, wondering if it was even worth holding out hope that things with Nadine could go his way. As if one look at his monstrous form wouldn’t be enough to ruin everything Salvatore already has an agonizingly low chance of ever having with that magnificent specimen of a woman.

Even with Nadine’s own external mutations making it clear that she was no longer fully human, her form had still retained such a beautifully strong, yet womanly shape to it, and her face still looked so young and innocent despite everything that she’s been through. Someone as beautiful as her was far too good and pure to be tainted by his filthy hands.

‘Maybe I should just kill her when the villagers arrive with her at the gate? At least then... I could say I put her out of her misery before she had to experience it for herself…’ Salvatore sulks mentally.

However, despite the self degrading thoughts running through his mind, the memory of the curious look Nadine’s shockingly bright and mesmerizing golden eyes held when trying to look at Salvatore through the pod window made the hooded man shiver, having never been looked upon in such an innocently curious manner before. Most people who got that close to Salvatore didn’t even need to see his face in order to start screaming and running away in terror. However, if the deformed man allowed himself a brief moment to believe that it was indeed her who’d been calling him to come back and show himself, then from the tone and rushed quality of her voice, it would seem as though Nadine was unsatisfied with the fact that she hadn’t seen all of Salvatore’s face and body, not terrified.

How strange...

How very strange indeed…