#he has a really punchable face

[iiilovebeam]

[bi-pandoras-box]

Do you ever just draw the foils and villains in the story you're writing, and you just make one so unredeemable that when you draw them you give them a punchable face.

Like look at this man and tell me he's not your 13th reason why.

[fannyyann]

I think they're pretty similar. I think Matthew's probably a little more savvy with the puck, but they both play hard. Brady plays a more, you know, physical game, but they're fun and they play hard and they know when to get their team going and when not to do something and I dunno, I just enjoy watching them and they've done a great job, and they've handled themselves well.

Keith Tkachuk comparing Matthew and Brady’s style of play 

[alurite-l]

As a long time die-hard FNAF fan, that FNAF movie is gonna flop

[pyechmushy]

[incohorace]

hell yeah

im here if you need badass support. its like moral support but like sick and awesome

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Yoo Hobin Company

G/N. Taehoon is enlisting. Soft and sweet. Masterlists

Taehoon was the one who tried to break it off. Tried.

Considered it a kindness, whatever measly amount his cold cold heart could muster up.

He wanted to play it cool, like it wouldn't work out. Had run its course and naturally reached an amicable end.

(None of that was true.

However, there was nothing more heartbreaking than thinking of you waiting day after day for him as he serves in the military. Waiting for messages and calls and letters until he finally has some time off and can spend it with you.

It's a waste of your time.

Nevermind that it's completely hypocritical because he would absolutely wait until the end of the earth for you.)

You arched an incredulous eyebrow listening to his nonsense. Then, in one fell swoop, rejected the breakup. 

"No."

Taehoon eyes widened at your refusal. He never thought breakups needed to be mutual or that you could decline it. But he knew that you saw through his motives. In hindsight, he didn't know why he bothered; you could always read him like an open book.

A smirk spreads, replaces the shock on his face.

"Dumbass," he says.

"You're the dumb one," you snipe back without heat, pulling him down by the collar and capturing his lips with yours.

.

.

In all honesty, you expected an adjustment period after Taehoon enlisted. A bit of loneliness. Some hours spent twiddling your thumbs until you found your feet again.

After all, you two were joined at the hip. He's your best friend.

What you didn't expect was that you were busier than ever. Not that you were particularly close to the Yoo Hobin company before, but there now seems to be a revolving door of members constantly by your side.

(And you really hate to admit this because Hobin is so sweet, but Taehoon is right. Something about Hobin’s face is sometimes, occasionally… really punchable.)

What you didn't know was, during the last company meeting before Taehoon had to leave-

He glared at them all, one by one. Growled and ordered them to take care of you or else.

Issue is - any sort of intimidation was offset by the pink flush on his cheeks as everyone saw through his prickliness and physically melted at him being such an attentive boyfriend.

First, the breakup didn't work and now neither do his threats. Taehoon is losing his touch.

"Stop that," he snaps when they all stare at him with soppy expressions.

Gyeoul tuts, rolls her eyes and tells him, "You're embarrassing."

Taehoon's leg twitches and he wonders if he stretched out now for a roundhouse kick, if it would hit them all in the face. Men, women, children alike.

His ire is eventually appeased when Yeonwoo, like butter wouldn't melt and earnest as ever, offers- promises that the company will take care of you.

The others agree, although there was never any doubt they would. Eager and already planning to involve you in all manner of things.

Finally reassured, a weight is lifted from Taehoon's shoulders.

[pinkie-quinns]

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ??? | slightly nsfw under the cut | fame au p3 |

p1 p2 p4 p5 interlude p6

Steve’s presented at award shows countless times. He’s good at it. He’s funny, he’s charming. But usually, he didn’t want to strangle the guy standing next to him. Usually, the guy hadn't been pawing at his dick ten minutes before.

But he gets through it. 'Cause he’s a professional.

He is aware. Aware that the tension stifling the room isn’t exactly appropriate for the Animated Feature Film category.

Aware that he did, in fact, tear Eddie’s (uninsured) silk shirt.

Aware that, despite a scurry of last-second HMU efforts, his perfect hair looks insane.

Aware that this is a live broadcast. Aware that anyone with eyes could look at the state of both of them and probably only come up with 3 feasible conclusions. Aware that unlike the photo, this is pretty fucking incriminating.

But he gets through it. Cause he’s a professional.

Eddie's being punchably smug about it, of course. Emerged from the bathroom, pupils blown, eye glitter smudged, lips swollen, and “Ready for his close-up!”

He didn’t even talk to Steve after they were escorted off stage. Just slipped a note in his pocket.

Skip the afterparty?

Skip the afterparty. Who does he think he is? Steve’s expected to show face. His team needs him to show face. They have another suit prepared and everything. He gets it's a foreign concept to Eddie, but people actually rely on him.

Fuck him. Steve can’t just skip the afterparty.

He skips the afterparty.

He ignores the 40 frantic texts from Robin.

He gets his car to drive him to Los Feliz.

It's just the same as 5 years ago, but all reverse. The deja vu is making him woozy, making him sick. Same place he was five years ago but no one's here for apologies.

This time it's a knock at Eddie's door.

Stupid and hollow and idiotic. Steve’s still in his ugly velvet suit. The door swings open. Eddie’s changed. Showered. Hair damp and frizzy. Liner and stage glitter staining his under eyes. He looks soft under the yellow porch light.

There’s a moment, a millisecond where Steve knows he could turn around. Slam the door in Eddie’s face and pretend this never happened.

But he's all red inside, all forward momentum and frustration and anger.

“I still fucking hate you.”

Eddie offers him a sad smile. “I know.”

And then the door is shut behind him and Eddie’s got him against the wall and Steve’s tongue is back where it belongs. Where it’s always belonged. He wants Eddie to choke on it.

Eddie’s grinning, glassy-eyed worship, panting into his mouth, “Missed this.”

Nope.

Steve needs be miles away from whatever the fuck that is. So he gnashes Eddie's lip between his teeth. It's hard enough to draw blood. He needs him as red as he feels.

“Fuck you.”

In the hallway drag to the bedroom, he’s all destruction. Wants to knock down everything in sight. Wants to shove Eddie into his stupid platinum records and his stupid ten thousand dollar guitars. He wants fire and earthquakes. He wants Eddie split in half.

Eddie hasn’t gotten the memo, apparently. Keeps a cool laugh through the whole thing, laughs when Steve pushes him against some hideous credenza (a fucking credenza, the Eddie he knew would’ve throttled himself.) Laughs when some marble thing gets swatted to the floor like Steve’s a particularly bratty housecat.

“Damn. Really got you revved up, huh?” Eddie’s grinning at him like this whole thing is some kind of fucking joke. They’ve made it to the bedroom, finally.

Steve bites bruises at his neck. “Do you ever shut the hell up?”

“Nah, kinda my speciality, Ha–”

He pushes the heel of his palm into Eddie’s crotch. “You’re pathetic.”

“Yeah?” It’s a whine.

“So fucking pathetic.” And then Steve’s on his knees.

He gets lost in it. Just like he used to. He never does anymore. He’s still a bit drunk but he feels all heady like he’s taken the wrong pills. Feels wired too, like he drank three red eyes. Feels a lot of things.

It’s all the same and it’s all so different. Their bodies are different. Soft in places they once were hard. Hard in places they once were soft. They’re not old yet, not really, not at all. But they’re not teenagers anymore.

It’s like he can’t find the ground anywhere– Eddie’s hands on him, Eddie’s skin on him. Bare and rough and different and so familiar it whips the air out of his lungs. Eddie knowing just what works, knowing how to touch him better than anyone. Knowing him better than he knows himself.

He feels cursed. He feels ruined.

And when Eddie finally fucks into him, on that gaudy four-poster bed, a mess of sweat and sheets and glitter, he can’t help the part of him screaming home home home home.

Eddie lights a cigarette when it’s over. Offers one to Steve but he quit years ago. Not that he would know.

Steve says, “You've got to stop that shit, man. It’s gonna kill you.”

And Eddie does that stupid sad smile again. “I’d deserve it, wouldn’t I?”

So Steve finds as many pieces of his suit as he can. Hopes to god Tom Ford doesn’t like, sue him for losing it. Hightails it to the front door. He’s not interested in small talk. Not interested in throwing this asshole another pity party.

Eddie follows him out, leans against the door frame, easy and sad and stupid handsome and Steve hates him nearly as much as he hates himself. “Will I see you again, Harrington?”

Steve can't let him have this. Can't let him win after all this time.

“Don’t count on it.”

[reidsdimples]

When Everything Changed | Part 4

18+❤️‍🔥 MDNI‼️

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers

Part 3

Mixed emotions are confronted while alone with Spencer in his apartment.

The team had zeroed on the unsub and the sting operation was being planned out. Last you and Spencer heard, they were about an hour from the address.

The night had stretched into the early morning. You had helped Spencer with his medicine and weird liquid food before putting on a movie. Said movie, Friday the 13th had just ended and he was asleep on the couch.

There hadn’t been another instance of him touching or kissing you but also neither of you sniped at the other. You mostly were in blissful silence either working or watching the movie. You didn’t know when Spence fell asleep but you glanced back at him from where you sat on the floor in front of the couch.

His face was slack with sleep and smooshed against his hand. He had the blanket pulled up over his shoulder and seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Your mind kept going back to Darcy and Elizabeth. Could he really be your Darcy? Did he want to be?

The credits ended and the room fell silent, prompting him to stretch and rub his sleepy eyes. He glanced over at you where you didn’t hide the fact that you were watching him sleep. The dim screen was the only thing illuminating his features but you could see the curiosity in his gaze.

“You fell asleep,” you tutted and turned from him. Your back was still leaning against the couch.

“I dreamed about Freddy Krueger if that counts,” you hear him smile.

“I hope he got you,” you pout and toss a piece of your popcorn at his head. It bounces off and tumbles to the floor next to you.

“Nope, unfortunately for you I’m still here,” he laughs softly, contently and sits up. You’re sitting next to his legs now, the urge to touch him heightening in such close proximity. “You tensed up,” he observed.

“What- no I didn’t!” You scoff.

“Deflecting and now you won’t look at me,” he points out. You whirl to face him to try and prove him wrong but he greets you with a devilish grin that has your stomach tightening.

“What are you implying Spencer?” You huff. He raises his eyebrows, pleased that you’re bothered. His knee knocks against your shoulder.

He leans down, prompting his elbows on his knees with his arms dangling between his spread legs.

“I’m not implying anything besides the obvious,” his gravely voice is near a whisper. His perfect lips form the words so sinfully that you adjust as you clench your thighs together.

“Obvious is relative,” you lean up on your knees and move between his legs, forcing him to sit back on the couch. “Elaborate.”

“Your hatred for me has melted into lust just as mine has for you,” he insists and folds his arms behind his head. You place your hands on his thighs where the thin pajama pants offer little barrier between you and his skin.

“Are you certain? Because honestly you look kind of punchable right now,” you give him a sarcastic smile. He leans forward so your noses are almost touching.

“I’m certain I can take whatever you want to do to me,” his words are deadly, dripping in seduction.

Shit.

“Your hand keeps inching up towards my cock. You keep licking your lips and clenching those delicious thighs. I bet you’re dripping wet right now,” he leans in and whispers against your ear.

Frustrations floods over you because he’s right, you hate when he’s right. But that frustration gives way to a wave of need that has your pussy clenching around nothing.

You glance down at his lap as he leans back again, the absence of his mouth near your neck only slightly upsetting. His erection has begun to grow in his pants and you know that crossing this line is dangerous. But then your mouth starts watering and you feel the need to grab it, the need to pump him until his whimpering beneath you.

“You’re arrogant,” you say because it’s true. The you trail your hand up and grip his cock through his pants. He flinches and watches you with wide eyes. “You’re a know it all,” you add as you adjust to his still hardening cock in your hand.

“Mhmm, anything else?” He bites his lip, watching you intently. You don’t know whether to focus on his facial expressions or his perfect length in your hand. He thrust his hips upward, filling your hand with him.

“You’re extremely infuriating,” you grab his waist band and tug his pants down. “Not to mention intellectually inferior to me,” you grin as you grab his cock.

His eyes go wide at the assertion and he’s about to say something when you bring your tongue to his tip and drag slow circles around the head. The salty flavor of him melts on your tongue and has your clit throbbing with need. He deflates into the couch when you wrap your mouth around him, taking him deep into the back of your throat all at once until your nose is flattened against his pelvis.

“Fuck you,” he pants as he draws out the words, finally responding to the last insult. You bring your head back up his length, hallowing your lips and sucking sweetly, torturously until he’s groaning beneath you.

You pop his head out of your mouth and look up at him.

“You could fuck me,” you shrug and then spit on his cock before take him deep again. “But you won’t,” you tease and continue your assault on him, pumping your hand with the motion of your mouth. You swirl you tongue to taste every inch of him, to draw out his pleasure.

Your other hand drops to your clit, running circles in speed with your mouth on his cock. His hand curls into your hair and shoves you deeper into his cock, making it clear that your little taunt pissed him off. You gag and choke and drool around him before he yanks your head off of him.

“It seems like you want me to be pissed off,” he tilts his head, jerking yours closer to his face. “Is that it? You want me to hate fuck you?”

You always enjoyed the darker more sassy side of him, this side of him. You did want that. You wanted him angry. You wanted him to use you.

“Mhmm,” you grin wildly.

He grabs the nape of your neck and stands, forcing you to stand with him.

“Your smart mouth and insistence on being right is going to get you fucked until you can’t walk,” he bends you over the kitchen table where files go flying.

“I don’t think you can,” you bite out, glancing back at him. He drops down behind you, removing your jeans swiftly and with ease.

“I’m going to enjoy making you scream for me,” he exhales as his long fingers trails up your soaked cunt. “Dripping with desire. Or was it hatred?” He muses and slaps your ass.

You grunt, annoyed at his fine line shit.

“Hatred. I want to fuck you out of my system,” you spread your legs and look over your shoulder at him.

His eyes are darker, filled with something more primal. This is another competition for both of you. Who is going to tap out first?

He lines the thick head of his cock up at your entrance and sinks in slowly.

“I know it’s tight baby. Don’t cum too soon,” you purr just to piss him off.

A groan of annoyance erupts from his chest as his grips your hips. He plunges into you hard now, forcing your walls to stretch around him, your cervix aching when he pounds into it. It feels so good.

He snaps and thrusts his hips forward and into you impossibly quick before angling himself to hit that spot inside of you that draws out a loud moan.

“Fucking let me hear how much you hate me, how much you hate this,” he grabs your hair and jerks your head back. It only improves that angle until sounds you don’t recognize are pouring out of you.

He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit and he rails into you, never missing a beat.

“Fuck,” you cry out as your legs start to shake.

“Cum for me,” he pants as he fucks you harder still. Your pelvis is slamming into the wooden table but it’s hurt so good.

Your eyes are rolling back in your head and the mix of pain and pleasure he’s giving you in equal measure. You tighten around him and shudder as your orgasm rocks you. You choke out a scream that sounds vaguely like ‘Reid’ but you hope he can’t tell.

He pulls out of you abruptly as your orgasm rattles you and before you can protest he’s on his knees with his face buried in your pussy from behind. You arch your back to give him better access and he grips your ass to spread you wider for him. Your clit is throbbing as he sucks on it until you’re on the verge of tears. He skids his tongue skillfully up and down your entrance, even all the way up to your ass until yours moaning for him.

He doesn’t stop sucking on your pussy and tongue fucking it until you’re orgasming on his face. You reach back and press his head closer into you as you cum in his fucking mouth.

“Finally something that mouth is good for,” you grind out.

He stands, fire blazing in his gaze, his lips glossing with your cum. He flips you on your back and pulls your legs up onto his shoulders. You can watch him now as he slides back into you.

Your cunt is sensitive as he rolls his hips to find the spot that causes you to moan. When he does, a satisfied grin plays in his face but you don’t have the capacity to sass him, it feels too good. Who would have thought that Spencer Reid was so versed in the art of pleasuring a woman.

His hands find your tits and squeezes them hard, they fit in his hands perfectly. The sight of him fucking you is overwhelming as he stimulates you in multiple ways. Fuck, you didn’t know if you could take another orgasm.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip like it usually does when he’s focusing and he catches you staring at his mouth. He seems to have the same realization as you. You hadn’t kissed him yet. A wild thought given that his cock was sliding in and out of you at this very moment.

He drops your legs and brings them around his waist before leaning forward. He stares down at you for a moment, longingly as a whimper comes from his throat. You lean up and capture his lips in yours. It’s more intimate, more real than sex somehow.

You’re both a mess of moans and clashing tongues as he slowly winds himself in and out of you. He’s drawing you closer to the edge, he has you whimpering, nearly in tears at how good it feels. He’s kissing you deeply, passionately, as though he’s long for the taste of you for ages.

You curl your hands in his hair to deepen the kiss, to have something to hold on to as another orgasm crashes through you.

“Spencer,” it comes out as a plea as you pulse around him.

A damning grunt escapes him and he breaks the kiss, throwing his head back as you tighten on his cock. That’s it for him, his thrusting falters and he pulls out of you, grabbing his cock and pumping it.

You say nothing but sink to the floor and take him in your mouth until his hot cum is coating the back of your throat. He braces himself on the table, the most delicious moans escaping him as you swallow everything he has.

He crouches down on the floor with you, your legs shaking too bad to stand back up. He pulls you into him and holds you close to his chest.

“When are we going to admit that this isn’t hate?” He murmurs and kisses your head.

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.

But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you

Jealousy

Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.

A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!

It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.

He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.

He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.

So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.

He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.

He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.

The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.

He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.

-

She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.

But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.

She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.

“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.

“Dun’ kiss him”

“What the fuck?”

Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.

“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.

“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.

“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”

“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”

“‘cause I can’t stand it”

“Why do you care?”

“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”

“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”

“I didn’t-what?”

He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.

“I did want ya”

Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.

“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”

“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”

He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.

The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.

The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.

It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.

It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.

A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.

“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.

“I-uh-yeah-I”

She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.

“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”

The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.

-

She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.

Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.

“I’m a’ idiot”

“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.

“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.

“You’re not going to run away again?”

“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”

[amys-love-potion]

WAIT THERES ALSO WELLINGTON

So i realized why I love senpai so much... 💀

[rukkiya]

goodbye isn’t for forever

(al haitham x reader, zhongli x reader (separate)

༻ part 2 to take it back༺

al haitham ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It's been two weeks since you’ve left.

The once lively apartment Al Haitham had taken for granted was no more, it was far too quiet for the scholar.

The silence was far too loud. He couldn’t concentrate on his work.

The same work that had led him to push you away.

He’s seen you around of course, he checks up on you and makes sure you’re doing well through mutual friends or passing by shops/places you’d both go together.

He hasn’t slept properly since you’ve left, he doesn’t remember the last time he was alone in bed without you next to him.

He thinks back to the times you’d wake up at night and get him from his study, dragging him to bed because he has to be up at the crack of dawn because you wanted him to sleep, because you cared. Now he’s stays wide awake, not worrying about work or other matters for once, instead he was worried about you.

No one has brought it up to him though, they couldn't.

He thought he was hiding it well, keeping it masked under his unrelenting face but the emotions he felt were being shown through his eyes.

During Al Haithams meeting with Cyno he was stammering, taking one too many pauses because he couldn't concentrate on anything. Cyno merely eyes the two wedding bands linked around a silver chain sitting on top of the scholar's chest but says nothing of it, well that is because he already knows.

“Have you tried talking things out? He looks like shit.” Cyno sits next to you, handing you a bottle of water sighing when he sees the corners of your lips tug down at the mention of Al Haitham.

“I can’t, after what he’s done. What makes you think that he wants me in his life anyways? Look, he was the one who threw his wedding band at me. I didn’t do it, he did.” You lay your head on the table huffing as Cyno sighs again.

He doesn’t like seeing you this way. He’s not the most fond of Al Haitham but seeing him down, with an expression other than a punchable face, it actually makes Cyno feel bad for him. You both being this torn was more on you guys than you expected.

“You miss him, you miss him more than you're letting on. From what I can see he misses you too.” Cyno leans back on his seat, you slightly turn your forehead on the table to glance at him, seeing that knowing look he always wears when he knows he’s right.

“Y/n, for as long as I’ve known Al Haitham I’ve never heard him stumble on his words or look worse than now. You might not accept that because yeah you’re right it is his fault. Everything he’s said and done to you isn’t excusable by a long shot but if he really truly meant it, he wouldn't be beating himself over it this bad.” Cyno explains, putting his hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair making you grumble and turn away.

“I’m scared, we’ve been together for so long, married for just as long and for him to do that I- I can’t just let it go so easily you know? He’s probably held it in for so long and he finally spoke the truth, what if I’ve been a hindrance this whole-“

“Stop.” Cyno clicks his tongue, making his hand into a fist and softly bonking your head.

“You always do that. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Listen, you said it right now didn’t you hear? You’ve been together and married for so long, don't you think he would’ve told you beforehand? If anything you made him more tolerable, he seemed content and happy with you. But right now he seems lost.” Cyno removes his hand from your head and crosses his arms.

“But I did something just as bad Cyno I took mines off too.” You turn your head to face Cyno again, feeling your voice crack just remembering how Al Haitham’s face looked completely horrified when you did that.

“Go home and you’ll see. Go home to him y/n he’ll have it waiting for you I can guarantee.” Cyno smiles at you knowing look in his eyes, he knows Al haitham wants you home just as bad, he’s keeping your ring on him for when you do come back.

Your chest feels heavy, your hands are sweaty as you stare at the familiar wooden door to your shared house with Al Haitham.

It’s only been two weeks, it feels like forever since you've walked out. You didn't even bother getting your things.

You raise your hand and hold it up, contemplating as to whether or not this was a good idea. But you feel your knuckles tap against the wooden door a few times and freeze, holding still to hear any movement from within.

Nothing.

No footsteps, no moving, no talking.

You do it again only to get the same empty response.

You feel your stomach drop.

Is he ignoring me? Did I really mess it up? Why did I leave like that? You feel your eyes burn as you continue to state at the door, mind thinking the worst.

‘Y-Y/n?” Al Haitham whispers from behind you.

He blinks a few times, making sure he's not hallucinating. There's been a few incidents where he thought you came back home a few days ago and it wasn't you, he didn't want to get his hopes up.

You blink at the door and hold your breath, slowly turning your head to look back at a distraught looking Al Haitham.

You open your mouth to say sorry, to apologize for leaving him when you should have just talked things out but nothing comes out, instead a small whimper escapes as your vision gets more blurry. His eyes, the look in his eyes made your throat swell. When you first met him it was so hard to read him, to tell his emotions but the look in his eyes right now says everything.

This tears Al Haitham from the inside out, his long legs walk up the small step to your house and he opens his arms as he nears you immediately wrapping them around you and pulling you in close, his eyes blown wide.

“It's you- you're here I didnt think you were- I thought you weren't coming back.” He exhales a shaky breath as he brings you closer, one hand cradling your head and other pulling you up from your torso.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for what I've said to you. It's inexcusable to say it's because of my work when you were just trying to help, you always do and I need that, I need you here to keep me grounded to keep me sane, you're anything but a hindrance, you help me in ways I never thought anyone could. Please stay. Don't leave me again.” he pulls back, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours.

“I will marry you over and over again if I have to prove myself.” one of his hands moves from your cheek, grabbing your hand in his and placing it on his chest where the necklace with the rings are.

“Haitham I'm sorry I left you alone I should've just listened.” you grab his hand that was holding your cheek, closing your eyes at the warmth you've missed so much feeling the tears you were holding slide down your face. Al Haitham only shakes his head

“Don't apologize to me. No one should have to hear that. Be treated that way, especially you.” he feels his hands shake slightly, with you in his hold. He feels like it's fake, like it's another one of the dreams he's been having since you've left him like he's going to wake up and you're still going to be gone.

“Please don't leave me, I need you home to keep me grounded. I missed you more than you can imagine.” He hugs you again, pulling your head into his chest and closing his eyes.

Throughout all the time you've been with him you've never seen him so on edge, look so scared. Let alone be this affectionate, you can feel it in the way he holds you , the way he speaks, he truly feels bad for what he said and done. Though you still feel torn, hurt from his actions you know you can't leave him again as you've missed him just as much.

As he holds you close, breathes in your comforting scent that he's come to love so much he vows to not take your caring for granted, that he needs you here more than anything. That he isn't himself without you.

zhongli⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Zhongli left, he’s gone.

You’re more than sure he’s moved on, found someone better who manages to actually care for their own well being and who doesn’t stress him out too much the way you did.

It’s what he deserves, anyways all you were doing was weighing him down, putting him under constant stress and worry to the point he couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s you, you’re the one who pushed him away the only good thing you had going on is now never coming back

Though he's been gone, Zhongli kept his word, he’s kept an eye on you since the day he left you.

A whole year had flown by agonizingly slow. It was driving him crazy as more time passed he grew worried you didn’t want him back.

During the duration of the year he’s noticed how you care more about your well being more. You took a break from adventuring and weren't as reckless. You started to work at your fathers local bakery to get back on your feet as you recovering from your injuries, Zhongli was relieved.

Though you seemed fine on the outside you only grew to despise yourself more than you ever had before since he’s left. You knew you didn’t deserve him and having him leave just proved your hurt heart more to that fact.

Zhongli kept his word, still watching over you from far away places, making sure to keep out of your line of view but more than anything he wanted to go back to you, wanted to go back home with you where you both belong.

The year with him gone was a process, one that took your mind into a very dark place.

You were hurt for so long, then you grew angry only for it all to ball up into self hatred.

During your time away from him you’ve reflected, taken care of yourself physically but mentally you were drained, it was constant nagging going on. Zhongli would be the one to quell those thoughts but you only had yourself, it was getting harder as days went on.

“I can’t stand seeing you beaten and bruised yet you are all the time.”

“You’re too much for me to handle.” Zhongli sighs, finally having enough, leaving his wedding band behind and walking out the door, never turning back once.

You shoot up from bed, looking around the room as you try to regulate your breathing, seeing the sun peeking in through your curtains.

Your hand reaches over to the ever so cold side of your bed and you're thrown back to reality. You mind immediately fogging with thoughts you don't want to hear.

You were in a constant brain fog, always lost in your own thoughts.

To the point it was was starting to become a problem, you weren't aware of lots of things most of the time. Not paying attention to certain things that could easily turn dangerous.

You got ready for work as usual, made your way down to the bakery, your mind racing a thousand thoughts per second.

“Hey y/n right?” A regular that you see buying bread at your fathers bakery stops you just blocks away from the bakery.

You turn around and he walks closer to you, greeting you with a smile.

“Good Morning.” you force your lips to turn upwards.

“Your father told me to tell you to pick up some things from my house for ingredients before you go in, it's just down the street.” he points down the road to a small house by the mountain.

“Alright, I'll go grab it right now. Is it a lot of supplies?” you ask, walking down the path thinking nothing of the situation.

“Not much but I think you’ll need an extra hand if anything.” The says, following a few feet behind you, looking around the surrounding area.

Zhongli was on his usual morning stroll, passing by your fathers bakery to make sure you get to work safe when he sees a random man stop you.

He stops walking when he sees you walk the complete opposite way from the bakery, following the man down the road. He feels a familiar feeling rising in his chest once again, your putting yourself in situations you don't see are clear signs of danger.

“Yeah, I'll help you bring them back up, it's just a few bags of flour and sugar right?” you ask, the man only hums in response, walking slowly behind you. You don't think about it, instead you continue your regular pace, already dreading the day ahead of you. you know you won't be able to concentrate much already feeling drained from getting up from bed alone.

Though it was morning, the end of the street was oddly quiet for this busy part of town.

Every stall around here is usually set up by now.

You near the small house and walk up the porch, turning and waiting for the guy behind you to open it though you notice his whole demeanor change. He was much closer now looking around him before looking back at you, reaching in his pocket to grab his keys.

He walks past you and unlocks the door holding it open, mentioning for you to walk in first, so you do, hearing the door behind you close and the sound of clicking, like he was locking it behind him.

“Why're you-”

“I brought them, our deal is done.” the man clears his throat, looking directly behind you.

You freeze, looking at the man with wide eyes when you realize what he said. Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand as you slowly turn around seeing a group of treasure hoarders standing directly behind you.

You start to back away, reaching into your pocket and getting the small dagger you carry but feeling someone grab your arm before you can pull it out.

“No no no, don't play dirty now we just want to talk. Your father makes a good amount of money in this town, he'll surely pay a good ransom to get his precious kid back now, won't he?” a treasure hoarder laughs, squeezing your wrist making the dagger drop from your grasp.

“My father pays for my brother's medical bills. Please don't make him pay for something he can’t afford. I have money, you can take all mine and let me go. I won't say a thing.” you look at the treasure hoarder standing in the middle of the room and hear his laughter boom through the small house.

“You’re kidding me right?” his hand brings up the ax he was holding and takes a step towards you.

You don't want this, to make someone else suffer because of you. Not your own family after they are already dealing with so much.

Zhongli waited a few minutes by the house you entered and saw no sign of you coming back out, he didn't want to interfere. He has no right. He's been so scared to go back to you, he regrets leaving. He knows he shouldn't have done it that way, he should've stayed, helped you another way. He doesn't think you'd want him back after so long, he has no right to be checking on you. You've probably well moved on.

But he can't help but worry, still check on you because he still loves and cares for you, just like he said he would the day he married you. But he left you, walked out the door, left his ring but worst of all left you all alone.

He feels something off though. From the looks of it the man you were talking to wasn't someone you knew personally, he could tell from our body language, the way you distanced yourself from him. If it was a friend of yours or someone you were close you’d look more relaxed and wouldn't be so tense or distance yourself so far from them when talking.

They're taking too long. Are they ok? Zhongli thinks, eyeing the small house. Contemplating as to whether or not he should go and check.

“Listen, your father gives us the money for you and nothing else got it.” the treasure hoarder leans down to your height and you narrow your eyes at him.

“My father won't give you a penny understand? Do your worst.” You dare the man in front of you seeing his smile drop.

You stay still, seeing a small open window to the right of you from your peripherals. The dagger you dropped right next to your foot.

“You testing me kid?” the treasure hoarder steps even closer making you shrink into yourself.

You quickly duck down, sweeping your leg under the mas feet and grabbing the dagger next to you hearing a thud, you don't even turn around as you hear multiple footsteps closing in as you run to the window, your arms and torso getting out before you feel a pair of hands grab your leg.

You feel your body get pulled back in instantly, your body hitting the ground with a loud thud.

“Donp tugh mi (don’t touch me)!” you try to scream but a hand muffles you before you do.

The loud ruckus alerts Zhongli and he doesn't even take a second to think. He's outside the door in an instant before his brain can register what he's doing.

A soft knock at the door stops everyone making the guy on top of you press his hand harder against your mouth.

“Don't think about it.” he looks down at you, voice dripping with malice.

Another knock at the door and the man on top of you signal for his subordinates to stay quiet.

Zhongli was giving them a chance to prove themselves but the second time he knocked and no one answered he had enough.

It grew completely silent, the sound of footsteps walking away was heard before the door and its hinges flew into the house.

A familiar silhouette stood in the doorway and you couldn't blink, you had to be hallucinating now.

Why is Zhongli here? How did he know I was here? Your mind halts seeing his eyes glow gold.

The man on top of you was thrown off in a second as a flash of gold passed by you, the other men being knocked to the ground seconds after as everything slowed down your eyes following the gold flash going across the room.

Everything goes quiet once again. The treasure hoarders in there were now all on the floor knocked unconscious as Zhongli stood in the middle of the room, chest heaving up and down as he glares at the foolish mortals who dared to try and hurt you.

You slowly sit up and back away, not really knowing what to say to him because why? Of all time why is he here? How'd he know you were here?

He hears the floor behind him creak and turns, golden eyes narrowing at you until he comes to realize it's you, you're ok.

When he broke the door down and saw the man holding you down his mind went into autopilot, he hasn't acted out on emotion in so long, it took over him before he could control it.

“Why're you here?” you ask, looking away from him grabbing the dagger and putting it back into your pocket.

He steps forward and you step back, the anger you've been holding back is starting to surface.

“Why did you follow him? Do you trust this man this much to have him bring you here and-”

“Dont, I don't need another lecture from you.” you almost laugh. After all this time away this is what he starts with?

“Yeah I know, take care of myself, work things out, I remember trust me, after all that's the last thing you told me before leaving remember? Right now I don't have time to hear it, I have to go to work.” You don't even bother looking back at him as you walk past to leave.

“I'm sorry.” He stares at you as you stop, seeing you shake your head and look down.

“I shouldn't have left you alone, it wasn't a good way to prove myself, I just wanted you to-”

“Zhongli please don't….” you sigh, feeling the heavy feeling settling in your chest, turning to look back at him, your eyes widening when you see one of the men he knocked out get up behind him.“GET DOWN!”

Everything moved too fast, your legs, the man behind him, but Zhongli didn't move fast enough.

Old habits die hard. You feel tired from everything, thinking too much, getting up today.

Zhongli feels the weight of your body go limp as you fall forward an arrow sticking out of your back, the man he had knocked out earlier standing directly behind, wide eyes looking up at Zhongli as he realizes who exactly it was.

“I didn't mean to get them. I wasn't going to hurt them. I swear, please don't hurt me.” the man coweres as his legs give out under him. Zhongli only stares down at you in his arms, seeing your eyes fighting to stay open.

“You're going to leave again aren't you?” your voice cracks and Zhongli feels his breath hitch, the pain in his heart worsening, you think he'd leave you alone like this?

“I'm not leaving anytime soon my love, just give me a second and i'll take you to Dr Baizhu right now, whatever you do dont turn around and keep your eyes open for me.” He picks you up, carrying you to the corner of the house facing you away from the man behind you, leaning down and giving your head a kiss before standing back up.

It all feels like a dream, this can't be real, you feel far too sleepy for it to be.

Zhongli summons his polarm and stands back up, slowly walking to the man who hurt you.

You couldn't do what he wanted again, you tried but your eyes keep closing from sheer exhaustion, the last thing you heard before completely blacking out was screaming coming from behind you, the same flash of gold blinding you once again before you felt your own body go limp, succumbing into the darkness.

◇──◇─────◇──◇

authors note: hello lovelies!! ◝꒰´꒳`∗꒱◟ ohmygoodness I’m so sorry for how long I took to write a second part to this T~T I’ve just been pretty busy but I’ve been getting more inspo for more stories that I’m so freaking excited to share with y’all! :D but alas part two of take it back is here! I had to make zhongli’s part angsty and another open ending- IMSORRY ik I need to stop LOLOL but I do hope you all enjoy and that I wrote it angsty enough for y’all (some of y’all told me to make it more angsty LMAOO you all like getting your feelings hurt just like I do >.< please make sure you are all taking care and staying safe ^~^<3 (this isn’t edited so apologies for any errors!!)

@ilocqua @2hilarious4u @esthelily @cypressus-lunis @taetaebunni @coruscale @wearetherealarm @chiyukin @lum1nesc3nce @anxietysslave @starlightaura @duckyyyx @dreamlessnight @myimymy

[mushroomates]

the fellowship and if i’d punch them in the face and likelihood of me doing so:

note: i have punched people in the face exactly two (2) times in my life. once when we were kids i decked my sister on the trampoline and most recently i hit a friend in my sleep when reaching for my alarm in a dazed state. the likelihood of me punching anyone in the face, intentionally and maliciously is very, very slim.

frodo: no. if i would not punch most people and frodo is a representation of “most people” i cannot see myself punching him. also i feel as if any disagreements would be felt verbally and swiftly, and an agreement would be met rather quickly. he seems like a reasonable guy. 3/10 i do not feel as though it would happen or that if given the chance i would proceed

sam: no. is a really good friend and person. least punchable out of the hobbits and i feel like if we’d got in a fight it would end up with dirt being flung at each other not punches. worse case scenario i feel like if we really got into it it would be passive aggressive or cast-iron based bludgeoning. 2/10 would not harm a hair on this man’s toes

merry: no. he has little cousin energy- i’d give him a noogie and pinch his cheeks but never sock him in the face. i could see us roughhousing and maybe even exchange blows but in the face? nah. just look at the little guy. i love his lopsided lil smirk. 4/10 limited fisticuffs, nothing serious

pippin: yes. he seems like he needs a good face full of knuckles and who am i to deny him. especially when he was younger. i like the dude but it just seems like something that would happen. im sure gandalf would slip me a pocket full of coins after. 8/10 would clobber this fellow

legolas: yes. almost certainly. would i get shot to shit by a million arrows? oh absolutely, but that would not stop me. i’m going at that man like a balrog out of moria. i don’t know why exactly i want to punch this pretty boy so bad but i know i do. 9.5/10 would punch again

gimli: no. one of least punchable of the fellowship in my eyes- one, because he would absolutely body me if i so much as raised a hand and two because i would never. he’d have to say some pretty insane shit to even get me to consider. 1/10 no jabs ever exchanged

gandalf: maybe. it can go either way. on the one hand, he is an immortal demi god who has been through hell and back so what’s one more fist to the face- on the other hand he takes the form of a grandpa which means i’d have a harder time mentally. however i’m naturally predisposed to punching wizards so given the right opportunity, yes. 5/10 chance of slugging

aragorn: no. he’d drop kick me to valinor before i could even raise my fist. also, he just seems like a chill guy. i feel like the only possible reason id ever even consider fighting this man is if i needed to die honorably very quickly and by a noble hand or if i had a chance at winning arwens hand, like a joust for the princess of sorts. i’d still lose, though. 2/10, id absolutely miss any hit thrown his way. complete biffage.

boromir: no. i’d let this man punch me and thank him for it. he is a fundamentally like able dude. how could i harm this beautiful man, a single father of two full grown adult hobbits. i just have so much love for him in my heart that i can’t even imagine raising a hand against him. 0/10 will not lay a finger on this lovely large lad.

gollum: yes. id punt this little bastard across mordor in my sleep. unprovoked. i hate his crust nails and his black hole of a loincloth. i feel bad for him, sure, but not bad enough to stop me from giving him a good ol fashioned wallop. 12/10 im gonna beat him up with my own two handsies, precious.

[fiendishfables]

Camillo Carmine x Reader

General Headcanons (SFW + NSFW)

warnings: nsfw, mentions of blood, mentions of biting, cursing

words: 1.4k+

a/n: this was a highly requested work, so enjoy and have fun with the little bonus at the end! This is not really an x reader, but it could be read as such, so oh well. Let me know your thoughts on Camillo's character, and/or if you'd like to see more of him in the near future &lt;3

SFW

✧˚ · . Camillo is basically like a big cat

✧˚ · . Tall motherfucker, standing at approximately 8,2

✧˚ · . The guy is very calm, silent, and sneaky all at once. If anything, he would make an excellent spy and has been offered positions before in that line of work

✧˚ · . Very independent; wont work for anybody but himself and is beyond stubborn

✧˚ · . He is a hardass, but underneath his tough, strong front, is an individual who is a giant kid at heart, who is so deeply loyal and giving that it hurts, and who takes all relationships he makes very seriously, as in he would gladly put his life on the line for someone he cares about; questioning his loyalty is the worst you can do

✧˚ · . Favorite colors consist of greys and purples of any shade; it always struck him as having more of an elegant, dancer sort of vibe, and the display of the colors usually help him to relax in times of distress. His whole bedroom is centered around that color palette and it hasn't been changed since he and Camilla have inherited the mansion

✧˚ · . On the subject of Camilla, he likes to annoy her. His real personality can start to be seen the more time he spends around his sister; they behave just like any normal pair of siblings would. The two have had a love hate relationship growing up and it still is that way, even if just a bit more watered down now. The two like to joke and hang around together every now and again when they aren't off busy with their own lives

✧˚ · . What a Carmine lacks in affection, they make up for in loyalty

✧˚ · . If you wanna talk about dancers, he is one. He loves dancing in his spare time and even uses the Carmine manor as a spot to host dancing lessons amongst sinners willing/wanting to learn

✧˚ · . His silvery pointed dancing shoes are like his literal children, and he always goes into a slight panic whenever he can't find them. They provide him with that sense of security, as dancing is a huge part of his life and he could never stand to be without it; they were also a gift from his mother

✧˚ · . Never likes to ask anyone for anything, especially not help. He likes to cover up his needs with smart-ass comments and handsome smirks that most can't stay mad at for too long

✧˚ · . Has been told he has a very punchable face

✧˚ · . His fangs make for a great, sarcastic smile; his face either consists of a frown or that signature smirk. He uses his fangs for a lot of things, including biting people when they get on his nerves

✧˚ · . Can totally play the piano; claims its a very calming and dignified instrument. He doesn't play it often but when he does, its a gift to anyone around to hear

✧˚ · . On the asexuality spectrum, identifying as demisexual and biromantic. It takes him a little longer than the average sinner to develop feelings for someone, let alone sexual feelings

✧˚ · . As stated before, his relationships are one of the most important things in his life and he handles them with great seriousness

✧˚ · . The epitome of that one secretive, mysterious, tall and mysterious stranger everyone wants to be friends with, but are too afraid to approach directly to ask

NSFW

✧˚ · . It's very difficult to get anything verbal out of this man when he's in the process of being intimate with someone, even if they're his s/o

✧˚ · . The most you can expect is some pleasured grunts, maybe some low groans if you're lucky

✧˚ · . It's not that he isn't enjoying whatever is being brought upon him, he is just one to closely guard his feelings and never really express them too vividly; yes that ends up following him into his sex life

✧˚ · . 9 times out of 10 he prefers to give pleasure rather than receive it

✧˚ · . Loves to degrade and use pet names with his partner; sweetheart, doll, slut, and whore tending to be some of his personal favorites to use

✧˚ · . Big on consent. If you are ever not comfortable with anything he proposes or is in the middle of doing to you, then he will stop instantly and get you anything you need. He may seem like an asshat sometimes, but he is a decent person (if that comes as such a shock)

✧˚ · . Into some form of pet play/leashes, no negotiation

✧˚ · . He always likes to be in control and rarely ever is the submissive one during intimacy.

✧˚ · . Will speak Spanish in bed, usually doing so in order to fluster his partner; it often gets him a positive response

✧˚ · . Being blindfolded is a big kink of his. As a dancer, he is used to having to be accustomed to other senses, so when they are heightened after his sight is temporarily taken from him, he will have a ball of a time

✧˚ · . One of his top favorite things is watching his partner ride him. Just the sight of his cock being sheathed inside your body over and over again as he watches you get off on his lap all on your own

✧˚ · . Dirty dancing is something he is much too fond of. The act of getting all worked up from dancing with one another, teasing each other all the while, then getting to fuck his partner into the ground, whispering praises to them about how well they danced with/for him; he is all too eager to teach you more of what he knows about the dancing world

✧˚ · . The little shit is one of the biggest teases you will ever meet. He honestly has a sex drive that's more so on the lower side and does not need sex as often as most sinners seem to

✧˚ · . But, be prepared when he does have the energy to pleasure you, for he is astounding at it.

✧˚ · . Kissing, biting, steamy makeout sessions, eating you out, fucking you raw; he can do it all and excel in the process

✧˚ · . His fangs usually come into play a lot during sex; a huge fan of biting and leaving marks on his partner to let others know that they have already been claimed

✧˚ · . Camillo is one of those demons you'd be lucky to have sex with. It's not even an egotistical thing, he's just not very sex-coded when it comes to relationships or really anything in general. He believes in a true connection with someone first before engaging in any sorts of those activities, hence his sexuality

✧˚ · . Sex with Camillo is always very serious and passionate. He never allows himself to be as vulnerable as he would be right now, so better to cherish it whilst it lasts

✧˚ · . It's almost like he picks one mate for life, then he's done looking, like some species do

✧˚ · . Thinking of it, when he really gets into action and the rare times he wants to have sex, he fucks like a wild animal. He does have his vanilla, gentle side where he will care for you nothing short of a husband, but if he has the chance or some pent up anger to release, you better prepare to go for multiple rounds of very rough sex

✧˚ · . To top things off, he does have a praise kink. It may be hard to pick up on at first, but if you praise him, let him know how good he's making you feel, he's a mess (at least internally). Nothing really gets him going more than knowing he is fulfilling his job as a partner; making you feel good in every aspect that he can. It gives him purpose and that's really all he needs when he's with his s/o

BONUS~

✧˚ · . One of Camillo's wildest fantasies is to have his lover cockwarming him whilst he plays a song for them on his piano. He can imagine struggling to not fumble over the keys, not let his fingers slip, as he feels you clench around him, biting his lip or your shoulder hard enough to draw blood in order to stifle any noises that may find their way past his lips. That vulnerability is something he knowingly holds sacred; you could potentially be the one to coax it out of him.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie? Can I have a pick-me-up?”

Charlie: “!! YES!!! OF COURSE ALWAYS!!!”

Charlie: “Uh- where to start, um- Oh oh oh! You have the most AMAZING laugh whenever you to relax enough for it and your voice is INCREDIBLE really easy to get lost listening to- You take skirt wearing to whole other level, you snore SO cutely in your sleep, and even if it’s a little concerning how fast you are with that spear, it’s also really kinda h-”

Vaggie: “I meant literally, babe. Like, thanks for making me blush, but…”

Charlie: “Ohhhh you want UPPIES?”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend-based personal vertical augmentation- yeah. I’d, I’d like uppies. Please.”

Charlie: “One vertical upgrade via your girlfriend coming right UP!” (giggles) (picks up) “Heheh, how’s this?”

Vaggie: (is up picked) “Perfect, sweetie. Now carry me over to Alastor?”

Alastor: “?”

Charlie: “Okay?” (starts walking) “…why…?”

Vaggie: “I wanna punch him in his stupid smiling extremely punchable face.”

Alator: “Oh I AM flattered!”

Vaggie: “Great he’s given implied consent to a beating, let’s go.”

Charlie: “Okay.” (turning around) “We’re not doing that.”

Vaggie: “We don’t have to. I’ll do the punching, all you have to do is go over there and hold me at eye level.”  

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Alastor: “Get on a level with ME? Rather impossible for you, I’m afraid. You simply lack my, dare I say DEPTH of vision, ha ha! DO take care you don’t suffer from altitude sickness in the attempt through, hmm?”

Vaggie: “Two seconds of being held up to his face, Charlie, that’s all I’m asking.”

Charlie: “Vaggie, that’s still assault on my part. That’s assault with a deadly weapon, even!”

Vaggie: “I’m not armed?”

Charlie: “Are you breathing?”

Vaggie: “Uhh, yeah..?”

Charlie: “If you’re breathing then you’re a threat.”

Vaggie: (grinning) “Aww, Charlie.”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY to guys like Alastor. No offence, Alastor.”

Alastor: “Compliment accepted!”

Vaggie: (beaming) (didn’t hear him) “You’re just saying that.”

Alastor: (annoyed dial tune) “Ahem. Well, I just said-”

Charlie: “I’m saying it because it’s true, and my ex still instinctively flinches at any HINT of a red hair bow at around chest height.” (switches to cuddling vaggie) “So let’s go be a threat over here instead, okay? Out of Alastor punching range.”

Vaggie: “Still within spear throw.”

Alastor: “Ahh yes, your darling divine toothpick. How quaint!”

Charlie: “Would you really wanna get his blood all over your spear?”

Vaggie: (HEAVY SIGH) “Nnnnno… I guess not.”

Alastor: (honestly insulted) “Rude.”

Charlie: “Didn’t thinks so!” (muttering) “The way you fawn over the stupid thing when it get’s so much as a stupid little smudge from me poking it in it’s stupid perfectly polished face…”

Vaggie: “What?”

Alastor: (evil static) “SHE said-”

Charlie: “Nothing! Petty revenge always ends up biting you in the ass! Anyway.” (grins brightly) “We’ve got better things to do than punch people in the face!”

Vaggie: “Good point.” (touches charlie’s jaw thoughtfully) “...this angle is pretty useful for more than just punching.”

Alastor: “AhaHA! And there is my cue to get off the air!”

Charlie: “Yeah…?”

Vaggie: “Yeah..”

Alastor: “Indeed!”

Charlie: “Like for tongue wrestling~?”

Vaggie: “….”

Alastor: “….”

Alastor: “Oh dear~!

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “Well if it’s combat you’re after- we COULD have a battle for dominance. Y’know. With our mouths.”

Charlie: (wink)

Vaggie: “….never mind. You can put me down now.”

Alastor: “Oooh~”

Charlie: “!! NO NO WAIT I TAKE IT BACK-”

Vaggie: “Charlie. It’s seared into my brain.”

Alastor: (grinning) “Dreadful! Truly dreadful!”

Charlie: “NOOOO NO NO UN-SEAR IT! UN-SEAR IT FROM THE BRAIN!!!!”

Vaggie: “I don’t feel up for punching anyone either anymore, so don’t worry.”

Charlie: “Would, would punching put you back in the mood!? Vaggie please wait hold on just one sec-”

Charlie: “ALASTOR! CAN YOU COME OVER- NOOO DON’T WALK AWAY, I NEED-”

Charlie: VAGGIE!!! Wait!! I’m sorry! Please wait up! Please I’m sorry I just got SO in the mood and kinda COMPLETELY lost my mind with your talking all low right next to me like that, like when we-”

Alastor: (distantly) “Dear ones~ I am not yet out of hearing range~”

Vaggie: “Good. Suffer.”

Charlie: “I’m suffering IM SUFFERNG! PLEASE!!!” (trailing after girlfriend) “Vaggiiiiieeeee..! S-smooches????”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, I can’t even look at you right now.”

Charlie: “We could do the smooches without looking!!!”

Vaggie: “Even worse. Every time I close my eye I see your tongue suited up in armor, waving around a sword.”

Charlie: (horrified) “No! NO!!! IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A METAPHOR!”

Vaggie: “Metaphorically speaking, I’ve been scarred.”

Charlie: “Th- then let me kiss it better!”

Vaggie: “Not how it works, babe.”

Charlie: “ARGH!”

Angel Dust: “Hey’a tootes! Guess who’s back from LONG and HARD day of… the fuck is wrong with her?”

Vaggie: “She’s fine.”

Charlie: (clutching vaggie’s arm) (wailing) “FANFIC RUIN LIVES!!!!!”

Angel Dust: “Ain’t that the truth. Porn tip- NEVER try adapting a smut fic for the screen. Choreography’s a nightmare…”

Vaggie: “Wow thanks for the amazing advice that we definitely needed.”

Angel Dust: “Ya welcome.”

Charlie: “We might still need it! Right Vaggie!? We might still be doing stuff like that in future-”

Vaggie: “What we could really use right now is a few drinks. Angel, I’ll spot yours if you can convince Husk to open early.”

Charlie: (slumping over bar) “I hate my life.”

Angel Dust: “That’s cute, Charlie-horse.” (lean down to whisper at vaggie) “Ya sure she hasn’t already had any...?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure-”

Charlie: “-the whole PROBLEM is me NOT GETTING ANY!”

Vaggie: “Annnd now everyone knows it, perfect.”

Angel Dust: “Oh now this is JUICY!”

Charlie: “What everyone? I only told Angel…?”

Vaggie: “Angel can’t keep anything to himself, including himself.”

Angel Dust: “Spittin’ nothin’ but truths tonight, huh Maximum Vaggige? Cherri will love this- I’m gonna need ALL deets! Wait right here and I’ll get Husker fluff to loosen those gossipy tongues right up!!”

Vaggie: “Great. More tongue stuff.”

Charlie: “UGH.”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “Meh?”

Vaggie: “I swear, if I could kiss you right now without physically cringing, I would.”

Charlie: “...Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “What if we’re never able to kiss again?”

Vaggie: “…”

Charlie: “…Vaggie this is the part where you say don’t be silly and reassure me.”

Vaggie: “I know.”

Charlie: “Tell me I’m being silly, Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Charlie, I… I will always love you, no matter what.”

Charlie: “That’s-”(sitting bolt upright) “THAT’S NOT REASSURING!”

Vaggie: (slumping next to her at the bar) “Where the FUCK is Husk and those drinks.”

[kotoku]

ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ

synopsis - Splitting off from your friends, you are left wandering in the dreamscape of Golden Hour. Expensive designer stores to extravagant restaurants and bars lined the streets with excited dreamchasers flocking towards their merchandise. Yet here you were, looking to indulge yourself in a couple of drinks at a small bar after gambling your Aideen tokens away. However, a familiar, punchable face is back and here to stay.

pairings - aventurine x nameless! reader part ii

content - enemies to lovers but we are slowly reaching the lovers part, character shenanigans, aventurine playing tour guide, lots of fluff/light moments, slight pining towards the end lol

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Your stay in Penacony thus far has been an..interesting one.

After entering the dreamscape, you were transported to a place known as Golden Hour, a bustling city district where shops and food vendors flourish with countless dreamchasers flocking to see their merchandise. Surprisingly, you had stumbled into the Trailblazer while walking down the street, making small conversation before the two of you parted ways. They seemed to be muttering something about ‘origami birds’ when they scurried off..how strange… 

Nonetheless, you continued weaving through crowds of dreamchasers, eyeing the different stores with their bright and..lively advertisements. You found the little creatures strange but intriguing, chuckling at the way they would hop around and follow you. But to your horror, as you crossed the street so did the little billboard, getting run over in the process. You went to help it back up but by the time you got to it, it had already picked itself up and left. 

“All of this feels like a weird fever dream instead of a dream… People should really be cautious when driving here even if we can’t get hurt.” You muttered, shaking your head before walking up a flight of stairs. 

The place you were now at was called Aideen Park. Casino machines were lined in circles with a bigger one as a building, a small bar and lounge area, and a band playing in the middle of it all. You stared at the scenery in awe, taking a small stroll around the park and using the few Aideen coins you had to test your luck with the slot machines. Despite your dull luck, you still had a fun experience with the huge slot machine that towered above you. 

“Better luck next time, I guess...” You sighed, sulking over to the mini bar area they had for dreamchasers. Taking a seat at one of the stools, the bartender had come over to you to take your order. 

“I’ll take–” 

“Personally, the Classic Soul Glad isn’t that bad of a drink. You should try some, friend.” A voice interjected, coming from the seat beside you. 

Turning to your left, you were met by the same blond bastard who stirred some trouble up at the reception desk. 

“We meet again, _____,” Aventurine smirked, his glasses tipped forward while swirling the contents of his glass. 

Before you could politely decline and order the drink you were going to order, the bartender had already walked off to start making it. With a sigh, you turned your gaze to the right to eye the suddenly enticing exit. 

“Come now, don’t treat me like a stranger. We’re friends after all!” He gave you a shit-eating grin, leaning forward to wrap his arm around your stiff shoulders. “If I recall, friends don’t just ignore each other.”

“Neither do friends stalk one another on their way to their hotel room, but here we are.” You grunted, shrugging off his arm. Aventurine held up his hand to his chest, a big frown on his face. 

“You wound me, _____.” He dramatically cried, slumping against the counter.

“Don’t be such a drama queen Aventurine.” You rolled your eyes, bringing up the glass of Soul Glad the bartender slid over to you.

“I’d rather be a drama queen than a boring one.” You heard him mumble, taking a sip of his own drink. Rolling your eyes, you chose to look at whatever the TV was displaying. Not to your surprise, it played a bizarre advertisement for the Charmony Festival, bright colors and patterns fluttering across the screen. Looking at its dizzying display started making your head hurt, so you turned your attention to something else. Anything but the man that was sitting next to you.

“How are you liking the festivities so far? Anything caught your interest?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, reluctantly turning to face him so you could respond. 

“Mm, I’ve been looking at some of the stores… Other than that, nothing else really. I saw a billboard get run over today.” You hummed, leaning against the counter. You held your drink with one hand, watching the ice clink to one side as you rolled your wrist to stir it. You had to admit, the drink did loosen you up a bit, making you feel a little warm inside. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the drink had reminded you of another from a distant planet… 

When Aventurine heard the last part of what you had said, he almost choked on his drink in surprise at the bluntness. “I’m sorry– what?” He coughed, covering his mouth with the back of his fist.

“What?”

“...Nevermind.” He waved it off. “Anyways, those were the only things you saw today? Nothing else caught your eye?”

“No? I was going to continue looking around later, why do you ask?” You eyed him suspiciously, watching as his grin grew a little wider. With his fingers drumming against the counter, he spoke. 

“Why don’t I show you around? It would be quite a waste to not explore.”

Aventurine playing tour guide? Now this couldn’t be good.

“I think I’ll pass.” Standing up from your seat, you fish out some cash for the bartender. “I’ll be taking my leave now, thanks for the drink.”

“W-wait–!” Aventurine sprung from his seat, chasing after you after he paid for his drink. You were quite the fast walker, he noted, finally managing to match his pace with yours.

Making an attempt at losing him was futile, proven by the fact that no matter what you did to get him off your tail, he was always right behind you. Through large crowds of dreamchasers, confusing paths, and many stairs, he was able to navigate through it all to keep up with you. 

Eventually, you gave up trying to explore in peace, opting to listen to the gambler speak about some of his favorite spots in the dreamscape. From the casino he frequently visits, to expensive designer clothing stores, and even fancy restaurants or bars that have a refined taste for food and beverages. It was no surprise that Aventurine had an expensive palate.

As of now, the both of you were checking out a clothing store that had multiple floors. From silk pajamas to leather coats, the store was huge and contained all articles of clothing that caught both you and Aventurine’s eyes. 

“What do you think about this one?” Aventurine asked, striking a small pose as he flaunted a magenta button-up with gold trimmings. He had a pair of slacks to match accompanied with his usual belt. You had to admit, it brought out the colors of his eyes perfectly.

“It..suits you.” You finally replied after eyeing the outfit. Aventurine grinned at you. Pausing, you spoke up before you could think. 

“It really brings out your eyes.”

Aventurine’s grin faltered, taken aback by your blunt compliment. He knew that the tone of your voice and expression held genuine, yet it was odd seeing you expressing your true thoughts other than shrugging him off. His grin came back, yet this time, it seemed a little bigger.

“I appreciate the compliment, friend.” 

Aventurine went back in to change into his regular clothes while you wandered around, checking out clothes that piqued your interest. It wasn’t long before Aventurine popped up right next to you, startling you.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he laughed, “Did you find something you liked?” 

You put back what it was that you were holding, not really wanting him to see what style you were into. “..No, there’s not much that matches my style.” You lied. He stared at you for a moment but shook his head. 

“If you say so.”

As you two started walking away, Aventurine made a mental note to come back at a later time, glancing at the hanger you were just holding. 

Exiting the store and back onto the busy streets of Golden Hour, you were about to speak before Aventurine interrupted you. It seems he always beats you to it…

“There’s..a place that I want to show you. I’m certain that you’ll enjoy it.” Aventurine tugged you along by the arm, navigating through dreamchasers and vehicles. You had no other choice but to go along with him, but you didn’t mind as you were curious as to what he was going to show you. 

After slipping past some Bloodhound guards and Dreamjolt Troupe members, the two of you finally made it to a small lookout overseeing some construction going on in Golden Hour. Although you wanted to question Aventurine’s methods of getting here, you couldn’t deny the scenery the place had to offer.

The view was breathtaking. The Penacony Grand Theater was in the far distance, stars streaming through the sky before ultimately fading out. The soft glow of the sun permeated the dark sky, mimicking the sunsets you’d often see in the waking world. There was a light breeze, expected as the two of you were quite high up, pedestrians and vehicles just specks beneath your feet. Walking towards the railing, you rested your elbows and gazed out at the horizon. 

“This..place… How did you find it?” You turned your head to Aventurine who took his place next to you, his arms crossed over the railing. Somehow, he looked more ethereal than before. Blond locks swept past his face in tune with the breeze, the lighting from the sun dancing across his skin which almost made it seem like he was glowing. You would never in a million amber eras want to admit it but… Aventurine was truly captivating.

Unbeknownst to you, he had thought the same.

“I stumbled across this place when I was scoping out the different dreamscapes.” He answered, eyes sweeping over your face. “The scenery here was.. beautiful so I figured that I’d show you this hidden gem.” Aventurine didn’t know whether he was talking about the place or you, but he shook his head to rid those thoughts.

“…Thank you, Aventurine.” 

“My pleasure, _____.”

Both of you lingered there for a moment longer, engaging in conversation with small pauses when either one of you was lost in thought. His presence was comforting, allowing you to bask in the moment and reveal smaller details about you. Naturally, he did the same, but still maintained his own distance as did you.

You forgot how much time passed as you were lost in conversation, exchanging small banter with Aventurine which would end up in laughter. When you pulled out your phone to check for any missed messages, you noticed that there were a few urgent matters that you needed to attend to. It seems this small “tour” session would have to come to a close… You felt a pang of disappointment hit you. 

“My crewmates are worried about me, I should get going…” You sighed, turning so your back was against the railing. “Thank you for playing tour guide.” Aventurine snickered. 

“No problem, I had fun.” He paused. “If..you’d like, would you like to meet up again for dinner sometime?” You noticed him adjusting his gloves and clothes, eyes meeting yours with a nervous glint. With a smile, you pushed yourself off the railing and started walking off in the direction of the exit.

“Sure. I’ll see you soon, Aventurine.”

“See you, _____.” 

Aventurine stood where he was, watching your figure slowly disappear. With a satisfied hum, he figured that he should get going as well before his colleagues got on his case. As he started walking, however, he noticed a small slip of paper hanging halfway out of his pocket. Unfolding it, there was a string of numbers with your name on it. 

‘Your contact info? How lucky of him.’ He patted himself on the back. 

With a delighted smile on his face, he walked back to the main streets of Golden Hour. 

Aventurine could not wait to see you again.

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - i'm back with another nameless! reader fic for aventurine. :) after a long longgg while i finally got some motivation to continue it and i had lots of fun writing it. i hope you all enjoyed!