#technically this is my outfit from Saturday but

[captain-huggy-bear]

Scratchy

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, smut - lil' spicy, lil' racy, lil' bit of Lottie is feeling touch starved and it shows 😅 Not for the kiddos at all! Get off my lawn!

Summary: Quinn will do most things to make you laugh, his favourite thing about growing out his beard is the fact that it's a weapon of mass destruction when breaking that laugh out of you. It also makes you a little weak at the knees and hot behind the collar too which is a bonus.

Notes: I haven't kissed someone in 3 years, okay? I miss the scratch of a beard and Quinn has such a good beard at the moment, leave me alone! Don't judge me, just enjoy the fruits of my imagination.

Also Merry Xmas/Happy Holidays for tomorrow, this is my present to you all :) xx

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a still sort of evening, the sort of dim, cozy quiet that only ever seems to happen when the night is dark, and you've made your way back to Quinn's apartment after a date to the silence of his apartment.

The lights are low, but warm because Quinn had changed all the bulbs to a soft amber after you expressed how much you missed the warm glow of the old street lights from your childhood. You're curled up underneath Quinn's arm on his white sofa, both of you pretending you're watching Home Alone but really it's just white noise as the two of you cuddle up together. The TV taking a background role to the two of you, the main actors in this play.

Technically, you should consider getting your shoes on, grabbing your jacket and going back to your apartment, the clock ticking closer and closer to 11pm, but you both know that's not going to happen. It's a Saturday and Sunday means no work for you, Quinn has a bit of a gap before he has another game, and there's absolutely zero urgency or desire from you to leave the spot you're in. You've never been more comfortable.

Every date night goes the same way. Quinn picks you up from your apartment, bringing flowers to the door and wowing over your outfit. Looking at you like it's the first time as he calls you beautiful or pretty or any other compliment he can think of, before taking you to dinner somewhere the two of you have been wanting to try. Dinner is always fun, the two of you bantering back and forth, feet hooking together under the table, and hands twisted together on the tablecloth whenever you're not eating. Then Quinn always asks if you want to come back to his for a movie, every single time you say yes as he helps you into your coat and into his car. Like clockwork you always end up curled up together on the sofa, something playing in the background that neither of you are really paying attention to and like always you end up staying the night, the spare toothbrush now not spare, but yours, and a couple of drawers holding your essentials for the inevitable sleepover. Sometimes Quinn jokes that you might as well move in, except it's not really a joke and you both know that the minute your lease is up you'll do just that.

Quinn's cheek is pressed into the crown of your head as you lay back together across the sofa, your legs are tangled like tree roots, one of his hands resting on your thigh that's slung over his lap, the other wrapped around your shoulders, fingers brushing soothing circles into your upper arm. Your eyes feel heavy in that soft, comfortable sort of way, not sleepy but relaxed as you lean into the crook of his neck, pressing the odd kiss to his shoulder every so often - lazy, content, sweet.

He loves moments like this, where he's not captain, just Quinn, just your boyfriend. Where he can watch the way your shoulders relax around him, feel the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the press of your lips to his shoulder. It's that sort of slow intimacy that has him tilting your head towards him, hand cupping your cheek as you rearrange yourselves to face each other.

"You're so pretty, baby..." It's a mumble, soft and sweet, his bottom lip poking out just ahead of his top. You're tempted to catch it between your own but don't get a chance before he's pressing his lips to your forehead, dragging them down across your temple and cheek.

The scratch of his beard tickles slightly and it has you twitching and pursing your lips to contain a giggle. That little shake of your shoulders as you try to hide it has Quinn stopping just shy of your lips, hovering in place with that delectable smirk of his that he gets from time to time (but not often enough).

"Does my beard scratch, baby?"

"Nooo..." You deny it even as he teasingly brushes his cheek against yours, purposefully brushing the bristles of his beard against your skin until you squirm in his lap, twisting yourself up and above him to avoid it. Your hands planted firmly on his chest as if that will keep him away from you and keep your skin free of beard burn. As if you're strong enough to stop him if he truly wants something.

It's not a sensation you actually dislike despite the way you scurry out of his reach, in fact, he knows you love when he grows out his beard. The scratch of it always sends little shivers down your spine, but it sets your nerve endings off in a way that always makes you giggle like a little kid. It's cute, has been since the first time he kissed you and you pulled away laughing in such an endearing way he couldn't even be offended.

Quinn doesn't let you scurry away for long, flipping the two of you until you're on your back underneath him, he shifts a pillow under your neck as he does so. A small gesture but one that speaks volumes about his priority of making sure you're always comfortable. His hands bracket your head, nose brushing against yours as he stares down at you under his lashes, big eyes softening at the corners. He's so beautiful that you think you might combust in that moment, having all his attention on you like that makes you squirm.

"You're such a liar. This doesn't scratch? At all?" He doesn't give you much time to answer. Long fingers and wide palm of his hand gently encircling your neck, thumb hitting just underneath your jaw, holding you in place as he scrapes his face against yours roughly, the scratch of his beard across your cheek forcing a giggle from your throat that has him stopping briefly just to savour it. It's one of his favourite sounds.

The reprieve doesn't last long, Quinn moves, rubbing his cheek down from your own to the sensitive skin of your neck. Your legs kicking out at the sensation, fingers grasping the back of his shirt as you laugh harder, despite all protests you lean your head away to give him more room.

"Oh, yeah, this totally doesn't scratch! Not a tickle, huh? Such a liar, pretty girl." He rubs his beard across your neck and shoulder, the sensation has your toes curling, a hand sliding up his neck and into his hair, fingers gripping tight to silky brunet strands.

"Quinn!" You laugh it out, but there's a hint of desire riding your tone, eyelids fluttering closed. The scratch of his beard, one of your guilty pleasures, a secret you think you have kept well, but that Quinn knows all about. Has ever since the first time he shaved and your eyes held nothing but disappointment that you tried your best to hide, same way he knows you love when he keeps his hair a little longer. You're terrible at poker.

"Nuh, this is your punishment for lying to me!" He stops briefly to press a kiss into the underside of your jaw, even then his beard scratches as he does it, an inescapable sensation that has your fingers tightening in his hair, "Not really a punishment though is it, baby?"

"Shut up..." You mumble it out, embarrassment riding your tone even as your toes curl and your back arches into him, a leg rising to wrap around his and pull him closer.

"Oh, what? Cause you're embarrassed? My pretty girl's embarrassed that she likes my beard?" He brushes his cheek back against yours again for emphasis, nose trailing across your cheek.

"Quuiiinnnn..."It's an embarrassed sort of whine you let out as you turn your head into the pillow behind you, cheeks warm as a squirm out of embarrassment and something like desire winds its way to your stomach.

His fingers grip your jaw, turning your face back towards him, not allowing you more than a moment to hide away from him. Quinn's lips find their way to yours, open mouthed and soft as he captures your bottom lip between his. He lowers himself down to you, body squishing yours into the sofa, hips rocking against yours in a targeted fashion. You pull at his hair as you writhe beneath him, legs trying to pull him closer, a sigh breathed against his mouth like a prayer.

"You were saying?"

"Shut up..." It's an absent sort of mumble, unable to really think of anything else to say when he's this close to you, this warm, when all you really want is for him to kiss you again.

"Is that the only thing your pretty little head can come up with right now?" He's being mean as he squishes your cheeks together, lips a breath from yours as he mimicks you, "'Quinn!' 'Shut up!'"

"You're being mean..." You pout even as the familiar burning twisting sensation stirs in your gut, even as you struggle not to wiggle your hips against him and pull him in for a kiss.

"I guess I should get off you then, since I'm so mean?" He starts to move away, your head shaking vehemently no at the illusion of distance, "Oh, no? Thought I was mean?" Quinn attempts to push off and move away from you, arms defined and strong, straightened up next your head as he pretends to pull off you.

"Stay, please?" Your legs lock around him like a vice as he attempts to back up and put distance between you under the pretence of leaving, teasing you even as he has absolutely no intention of actually going anywhere.

"Is that all you want, sweet girl? Just me to stay right," he punctuates the end of his sentence with a roll of his hips back between yours "here?" He's rock hard against you, but he doesn't really care, this isn't really about him, it's about you and all he wants is to get you off. He could care less if he cums tonight. Not when you're whining into his neck and looking up at him like you might cry if he pulls away from you right now. Clingy and needy, desperate for him in a way that has his heart. He loves the idea that its him you want, only him, that no one else can fill that space.

Your neck almost cracks with how rapidly you shake your head, because as much as you want him to stay pressed against you, warm and heavy and delicious, you're not sure if that's enough anymore. Not when Quinn's commanding your attention, domineering over you like the captain he is.

"Use your words, baby, 'm not a mind reader, can't read that pretty little brain of yours." It's breathed out against the shell of your ear, the first stop before his lips trail down the side of your neck. This time the scratch of his beard is anything but funny, a little whimper leaving your throat as he sucks a hickey into your neck, one he's determined to make stay for at least a week, next to the beard burn you're definitely going to have as well.

"Want you, Quinny" Your fingers make their way back to his hair, its grown out so far in the season, long enough for you to tug on it when his own long fingers slide between you and tap your sternum.

"I'm right here, baby." It's frustrating and even more so as you squirm because you can feel his smirk against your neck, know he's purposefully acting like he doesn't know that you want his fingers in you.

"No, want you." you try to emphasis the point without words, too shy, always too shy to say what you're actually thinking and wanting and it always gets to Quinn. God, you're so fucking cute, how you refuse to tell him even while you're rutting against him and tugging on his hair.

"Here?" His fingers slip further down, hand pressed against your belly before slipping around to your waist, grip tight but not enough to leave marks.

You shake your head again, frustration building as you try to wiggle his hand lower.

"No? Mmm.." A kiss lands on the front of your throat and down to the dip where your sternum starts, while his hand moves again this time to your outer thigh, pulling you leg tighter against his hip, "Here?"

"Baby..." your voice actually cracks and breaks and when he pulls back to look at you there are tears in your eyes, frustrated tears that get to him and make him more than a little weak for you. He loves you too much to keep teasing you, pressing a kiss to your lips before mumbling against them.

"Oh, I see, you want me here instead, huh?" Quinn presses his thigh up between your legs, pressing firm against your cunt. You really can’t help it as you roll your hips against the intrusion, the fabric of your underwear brushing against your sensitive clit with each roll. It's an attempt, an effort to find some sort of friction, some sort of relief from the desire that burns in your belly and has your panties slick.

"Sweet girl wants to ride my fingers till she gets off? I got you, baby, don't worry." He doesn't expect a response and he doesn't get one, not really, just a babbling mess of words that broadens his smirk because you’re so pretty rutting against his thigh as you lie underneath him. You tug at his hair so hard he nearly hisses, but he's taken worse hits in a game before and he'd let you pull all his hair out to hear the way you whine under him.

Quinn's mouth covers yours at the same time as his hand slides up your thigh, long fingers pushing your panties to the slide quickly. Even quicker is the way he slides one finger into you, thumb seeking your clit in double time, as you moan into his mouth, hips wriggling against his hand.

"You're so fucking wet, baby, this all for me?" He murmurs it against your lips, thumb circling your clit as he presses a second finger into you, curling them until he finds that spongy little spot inside you, the spot that has you crying out his name and gasping for air, back arching off of the sofa and towards him.

There's not much mercy from Quinn as he thrusts his fingers into you, each time determined to curl against that same spot, his lips kissing from your mouth to behind your ear, sucking and licking hickies into your skin like your his own personal Monet painting.

It’s a third finger stretching you open, eased by the sheer amount of wetness that you drip with, and the way his beard scratches at the delicate skin of your neck, creating a shivery sort of delight through you, that has you cumming so hard and so fast that you think he might have broken a world record. You're gripping so tight around Quinn's fingers that he worries he might lose circulation in them.

You whine and moan his name so loud that he’s grateful he lives alone, no roommates, no brothers, no parents. Your body shivers and rolls, tensing and relaxing as your orgasm rolls through you in waves, as Quinn works you through it, thumb rubbing your clit and fingers still working against you but more gently this time, careful of your overstimulated nerves. “Fuck, there we go, I got you, baby...look at you, so fucking pretty."

Your hips jerk away from his touch, overstimulated and overly sensitive, Quinn lets you push his hand away, drags it out of your panties and catches your eye as he slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking you from his skin. He hums like you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted and in his opinion you might just be.

His hand, still wet from his spit, cups your cheek gently. You press your cheek into it, eyes blinking up slowly at him as he rubs soft circles there. Soft and tender as he waits for you to catch your breath and come back down from it all, as his eyes watch you for any ounce of discomfort.

“You okay, baby?”

"Mmm...?" Quinn can't help but chuckle at the way you look up at him a little dumb smile on your face, eyes half-lidded and hazy. He’d be worried if I hadn’t seen that look on your face before.

"That good, huh? Got you a little stupid, baby?"

"Mmmm..." Quinn presses soft kisses across your face. Hitting the high points of your cheeks, the top of your forehead, the tip of your nose and the end of your chin. Careful as he helps you come down from it all, you start coming too a little, worried as you call out that he hasn't cum yet and he just shushes you. Tells you this wasn't about him, that he's fine and really, he is. He's happy just servicing you tonight, he knows he'll get his reward in the morning, the soft sort of sex that's all tender and sweet, the best kind.

He eases himself off you, even as you whine about it, hands and fingers grabbing at him, trying to pull him close again, always clingy after you cum.

“Need to get you cleaned up and ready for bed, baby...'m not goin' anywhere, don't worry.” Quinn's hands find yours, pulling you up with him as he stands from the sofa.

He's gentle as he guides you and your wobbly legs to the bathroom, as he helps you undress fully and stand under the warmth of the shower. His hands soft as he washes between your legs and over your sweat soaked skin, pressing soft soothing kisses into the beard burn and hickeys across your neck, even as he smirks proud of himself, of the marks he's left on your skin, claiming you as his for anyone to see.

He's careful as he washes your hair and helps you remove your makeup that has smudged. He's steady and sure as he helps you into one of 'your' favourite t-shirts, one you stole from him and claimed months ago.

You breathe out a soft sigh when you finally curl up under the covers with him, his body engulfing yours in his arms, pulling you back tight against him. You feel safe, so utterly at peace that it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep in Quinn's arms, even as he keeps his eyes on you with a soft smile, more than happy to stay awake just a little longer, just to capture this moment for a little while.

[darkmatilda]

𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which spencer can’t believe he ended up in an art class, you can’t believe you ended up in an art class, and neither of you can believe you both ended up in the same art class

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, banter at its finest <3

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request marathon masterlist

Spencer never considered himself particularly talented in the field of art.

His biggest problem was that, while creating, he had trouble switching off and simply focusing on what he wanted to express. When he painted, images of Van Gogh, Picasso, Dalí crossed through his mind—their characteristics and information about the movements they represented—and he would immediately start wondering whether what he was creating truly fit into expressionism, or maybe leaned more toward fauvism. No one should be surprised that he did much better with technical drawing.

He once talked about it with JJ—the topic came up when Henry talked them all into a group drawing session. What he said then somehow stuck in his friend’s mind—enough that for his birthday, she decided to give him…a pass for creative art classes.

He kept postponing going until the very last moment. However, the deadline for using the pass was approaching, and he felt a little guilty about potentially wasting the gift from JJ. So, one Saturday, he physically forced himself to go, even though there were dozens of other things he would have preferred to do in the meantime. In fact, on that particular day, he even had more desire to do laundry than to play at being an artist, but he knew that if he didn’t go then, he wouldn’t get around to it anytime soon—and the pass would expire.

So, he found himself in the painting studio, the entrance of which he could spot even before stepping inside thanks to the glass doors—beige walls, student easels arranged in a circle, a crocheted orange rug on the floor, and plenty of flowers and other props seemingly designed to spark their imagination. Taking in the room with his eyes, Spencer opened the door, allowing a woman who had arrived around the same time to pass in front of him.

Without a thank you, she crossed the threshold confidently, brushing past him—but before she fully entered, Reid widened his eyes…recognizing her.

"What are you doing here?"

His, well... acquaintance from work (the one he'd once ended up in bed with, went on an undercover mission with, and even saved a cat together, but  couldn't spend more than five minutes with each other without at least once threatening each other's throats, so overall, they didn’t get along that well) reacted similarly, though with a more outraged expression on her face.

"What are you doing here?" she put her hands on her hips.

Unconsciously, he glanced at her outfit. The dress code for the class was to wear something you wouldn’t mind getting dirty, so she had veered a bit away from her usual stylish outfits, wearing something much simpler. But that wasn’t why he didn’t recognize her—her attractiveness was unmistakable, no matter what she was wearing, she still looked just as good. It was simply in her.

She sounded outraged, but he didn’t feel guilty, because he felt the same way. The purpose of these classes was relaxation, clearing the mind, releasing stress...which was impossible when they were both within a mile of each other.

"I asked first," he stated.

She sighed in irritation, then quickly forced a wide smile onto her face. It looked terrifying, just so you know.

"I'm spending my free Saturday afternoon," she explained stiffly. "And you, Doctor Genius? Did you get lost on the way to a chess tournament?"

Reid snorted.

"If I had the chance to be at a chess tournament right now, trust me, I wouldn’t be here..."

"You two for the painting class?" A woman who must have been the instructor caught their attention.

She kept her hands clasped in a basket-like gesture, quite friendly, though her expression showed concern. Some random duo had just started arguing at the entrance to her studio. Who knows, they might be some vandals…

"That's right," his acquaintance said, completely changing her tone when she wasn’t talking to him. As if she were making an effort to emphasize the difference. He already felt like rolling his eyes—and they had met, what, maybe... eighty seconds ago?

"Oh, in that case, welcome to the creative art class. My name is Carla, and I’ll be leading it. It’s best if you just take a seat, and I’ll explain more about what we’ll be doing shortly..."

They arrived as two of the last people, so the only available seats...were right next to each other. Their exasperated sighs synchronized almost perfectly, and they exchanged glances that weren’t any more enthusiastic. Maybe later they could switch seats with someone, or maybe they just wouldn’t talk...

He spoke to her a minute after they sat down on adjacent stools.

"Are you here out of a passion for painting, or out of a passion for making my life miserable with your presence?"

She slowly turned her head in his direction.

"You might not be aware of it yet, but my presence is the brightest point of your miserable life."

"Oh, you're right. Bright from radioactive radiation—"

"Excuse me, could you please not talk to me for now?" she said intentionally louder, drawing the attention of everyone present, including Carla, who had just been explaining some introductory topics and what they would be doing. With feigned concern, she continued, "I'm trying to focus to understand the basics."

Spencer pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of so many unfriendly eyes on him.

"We know each other from work," he added, sliding his finger between them.

He didn’t want to be seen as some creep, harassing a random woman!

"This is the first time I see this man in my life," she lied without hesitation.

A bit of sarcasm crept into her voice, confusing everyone around them. Carla ran her fingers through her platinum, short hair and cleared her throat before continuing from where she had been interrupted.

They were kind of being jerks—both of them. The bickering and snide remarks were fine when they stayed between the two of them, not when they involved over a dozen other people. Strangely enough, she seemed to come to the same conclusion—when he caught her gaze again, there was something in it that looked suspiciously like a proposal for a ceasefire. He gave a barely noticeable nod in return.

Carla kept talking for a few more minutes before suggesting they start with a few simple exercises. As she launched into the basics of color theory, Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he’d regressed all the way back to a crib.

“I get explaining the fundamentals, but this is…” he muttered under his breath.

He didn’t expect anyone to hear him.

But of course—she did.

"You don’t get to talk," she replied, just as quietly. "You’d probably say the same thing during a lecture on quantum physics."

"If that lecture started with explaining what an atom is, then yes, I absolutely would—"

“And now that you’re familiar with the basics,” Carla said, shooting Spencer a meaningful look that clearly suggested he should, kindly, shut up. He did.

“I want you to try a little exercise. Mostly for fun—because that’s what we’re here for, right? You’ll be drawing portraits of each other, in pairs. Or at least, you’ll try. A few classes from now, we’ll do the same thing again and compare how much you’ve improved…”

Reid glanced around, hoping to catch the eye of someone willing to team up. But everyone had already paired off—almost instantly, like they were afraid of ending up with either of them. The two of them, constantly hissing at each other like stray cats, radiating more hostility than friendliness. Honestly, he couldn’t blame them.

So they were left with no other choice but to sit across from each other and start drawing.

He actually decided to take the assignment seriously. Better that than the realization he'd wasted his entire afternoon on something completely unproductive.

Glancing at the woman across from him—already hard at work, barely sparing him a glance—he spent a moment just studying her features. Analyzing the proportions, tracing imaginary angles across her face like some kind of invisible protractor.

At first, purely out of spite, he planned to exaggerate that perpetually annoyed look she wore like a second skin. But she kept smiling while she worked—so absentmindedly, so genuinely—that he found himself accidentally transferring that softness onto his sketch without even thinking.

He was only halfway done when a small giggle reached his ears from across the table.

She had set her brush down and was staring at her work, visibly amused.

“You’re done?” he asked, incredulous.

Was he really that easy to draw?

“Almost,” she replied vaguely, leaning over the canvas to add a final touch. Then, biting her lip, she studied it a moment longer—before finally presenting it to him with a proud little flourish. “Voilá. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you…Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He was silent for a moment.

“…What is that?”

“It’s you, silly!”

The sound he made was somewhere between a scoff, a snort, and a defeated sigh. He’d actually tried…

“Are you fucking serious…”

Her laughter.

“I swear, you’re the most insufferable—”

More laughter.

“—spiteful, venomous little—”

Her laughter only grew louder with every word, especially as her eyes flicked back and forth between the portrait and his very unamused face.

“How’s it going over here?” Carla materialized beside them, clearly drawn over by their very audible presence.

She glanced at Spencer’s portrait and gave a small nod of approval. Then she turned to look at hers—and her lips parted in stunned silence.

The figure on the canvas bore only a vague resemblance to Spencer. The oversized brown eyes were exaggerated into near cartoonish black holes, like twin collapsing stars. His hair had been rendered into a wild mess of scribbled brown, aggressively unkempt.

Beyond that, his body had been minimized to Lego-figure proportions while his head—a massive balloon-shaped monstrosity—was adorned with stress veins sketched on either temple.

The cherry on top? A single, disproportionately large hand raised with one finger pointed dramatically upward, as if delivering an unsolicited lecture.

A speech bubble floated from his mouth containing just two words:

Um, actually…

“I’ve always had a passion for comic art,” the artist of the masterpiece finally explained after a short silence, nodding with mock seriousness.

Carla tapped her chin thoughtfully, then gave her some kind of critique—though Spencer had stopped listening. His attention drifted back to his own work. The portrait wasn’t finished yet, but it did resemble her—he’d actually tried, unlike some people in the room.

On a sudden impulse, he grabbed his brush and with two swift strokes, added a pair of curly mustaches and a full Viking beard to her face.

Her eyebrows shot up.

Carla wandered off to check on another pair.

“Wow, I’d be such a hot guy,” she said, dramatically sighing as she pointed at the updated painting. “I wouldn’t be able to walk ten feet without getting hit on.”

“And are you now?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Twelve, last time I counted,” she replied nonchalantly.

Honestly, he was inclined to believe her. Before he could rush into a response, however, she suddenly straightened up on the wooden stool, as if struck by some sudden idea. From her pocket, she pulled out an intensely red lipstick, and to his utter bewilderment, began applying it to her lips.

“I’m leaving my signature,” she explained, puckering up and blowing him a kiss. Then, she kissed the corner of her painting, leaving a bright red lipstick print. Without missing a beat, she took it off the easel, practically shoving it into Reid’s hands.

“Here you go. If you ever go bankrupt, you can sell it. I won’t be offended.”

Spencer stared at the lipstick mark on the painting for a moment before shifting his gaze to her face, which still radiated so much self-satisfaction. He sighed, giving in, and a fleeting, amused smile appeared on his lips.

“Do you think it’s worth that much to pull me out of debt?”

“People don’t pay for art. They pay for the artist’s name,” she said, casually folding her hands over her knee in a comfortable pose. “So yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

On Monday, Morgan asked him what he had been up to over the weekend, and Spencer, adding a fifth spoonful of sugar to his coffee, shrugged and replied nothing interesting.

[trulybetty]

once is all it takes | V : contiguity

pairings: eventual jack abbot x f!reader, f!reader x emery walsh, jack abbot x emery walsh, jack abbot x f!reader x emery walsh word count: 2,863 warnings: series as a whole 18+, mentions of alcohol, reader drinks wine, lots of flirting, realizing of feelings, the calm before the storm, emery & jack come with their own warnings ao3: linked ⤷ series masterlist

The night air was heavy with heat. The kind of heat that feels like it’s pressing down on you with a hand against the back of your neck—humid, heavy, not quite miserable yet, but enough that every breeze feels like a small miracle and a reprieve.

Wednesday night had brought a storm. Instead of breaking the heat, it had just turned up the thermostat. So by the time Saturday night rolled around, the heat felt like a fresh blooming bruise—pulsing and poised to linger, leaving a mark.

The fairy lights over your modest balcony wink sleepily, their glow a modest light in the fading daylight.

Both balcony doors are wide open, and the old fan in the corner is doing its best to stir whatever air is left inside. It’s failing—but the wine helps.

So does Emery.

Emery’s laugh floats in from outside. You’re in the kitchen putting together a jug of sangria. She’d arrived with a paper bag in one hand, filled with the supplies to make more than enough for the night, and in the other, a takeout menu for a new tapas place. She’d shoved the drink ingredients into your hands, declaring her only responsibilities were ordering food and being stellar company.

And she’d delivered on both.

Her dark hair is twisted up off of her neck in a loose knot, soft curls sticking to the back of her neck in the heat. She looks like she belongs there—her bare legs stretched out on the chair across from her—barefoot and tanned. Linen shirt knotted at the waist, the collar doing the bare minimum of staying up on her shoulder, highlighting the cluster of freckles that adorn her collarbone. Shorts that are technically decent, but only just. The kind of outfit that breathes easily in this heat, that invites sweat and slow touches. The kind of thing that shouldn’t do anything to you.

And yet—

“You really should call your landlord about the aircon,” she says, pulling you out of your head—flicking a bug off of her shin without looking. “This place has character, but I’m not in the mood to melt for the aesthetic.”

You almost open your mouth to say it works in the bedroom, but close it instead and pick up the jug of sangria you’d been working on and go back out to join Emery.

“You say that like he’ll do something.”

“I say that because I’m invested in your survival.” Her eyes flick to the jug in your hand. “And my own. Plus, your apartment is closer to the hospital and the good sushi place.”

You laugh, throat low, as you pour the sangria. You watch condensation bead on the outside of the glass while Emery leans back, stretching slowly like a cat. She grins, sharp-eyed and satisfied, and there it is again—that little hum. The one that isn’t new, but is starting to take a different shape.

She’s always been a little tactile. Always teased. Always held your gaze just a breath too long.

Someone in one of the apartments below is playing Nina Simone. The music doesn’t carry clearly, but it’s loud enough that you can feel it—low, slow, and sultry.

“You should’ve used a Spanish red,” she says, peering into her glass judgmentally.

“You should’ve brought it,” you reply, equally dry.

“I brought the ingredients,” she counters, nodding behind you toward your kitchen where the blood oranges, muddled berries, and half-empty bottle of cheap brandy still sit on the counter. “And a menu, which I handed to you upon arrival like the good guest I am.”

“You handed it to me,” you said as you took a sip of your drink—a little too sweet, “and then said, and I quote, ‘Here’s the food we’re ordering, I’m only here to provide the vibes and to watch you chop things.’”

Emery flashes you a grin, wide and unapologetic. “Exactly.”

The buzzer rings, and Emery groans like it’s a personal affront.

“That’ll be salvation,” she says, already kicking her feet off the chair.

You get up to grab your wallet before she can protest, but she pushes you back down into your seat. She meets the delivery guy herself and pays for dinner. A few minutes later, she returns triumphant, arms loaded with takeout containers, the scent of saffron and garlic trailing behind her.

“You know,” she says, swirling the fruit and ice in her glass with a straw, the table before you both spread full with takeout containers, “I think I liked you better when you hated him.”

You glance at her, popping a piece of cheese in your mouth.

“Jack,” she supplements, smirking.

You raise an eyebrow, though the corner of your mouth threatens a smile.

“Mm,” you finish chewing and swallow, “thought so.”

“You were feisty.” She takes a sip, swallows—you watch her throat. “Now you’re all gooey-eyed and well-laid. Honestly?” she smirks behind her glass, “It’s disappointing.”

You pout, “I’m still feisty.”

Emery offers you a laugh as she looks at you with disbelief, “Mmm,” she murmurs, unconvinced. “You’re happy, babe. It’s not the same thing.”

There’s no bitterness in it. No bite. Just Emery being Emery—able to read you too well, tugging at whatever loose thread she can find to see what it unravels. You reach for the jug between you and top off her glass before your own.

She watches the pour with fascination.

“And now?” you ask.

“Now,” she says slowly, as she lolls her head to the side, the twinkle of the fairy lights strung above you add a sparkle to her eyes, “I’m starting to get used to this version of you. But just as I do, it’ll only be something else. Like you and Jack will adopt a dog or have a kid.”

You laugh—almost choke on your drink.

“Okay, it’s been what, six months? I don’t think we’re anywhere near either of those, if at all.”

“Yet,” she says, her point accentuated with a pop of a green olive between her lips.

You sigh, wanting to change the subject, “Tell me something I don’t know,” you say, turning your head to look at her as you lean back in your chair, “about you.”

Emery lifts a brow, “What kind of something?”

You reach for a piece of flatbread, smear it with hummus, pop it in your mouth. “Dealer’s choice,” you say around the bite, wiping a drop from your lip.

She watches you lick hummus from your thumb. Considers. Then: “I almost got kicked out of the Air Force for threatening to punch a superior officer.”

You blink, “You what?”

“I still stand by the fact it was deserved.”

“Still.”

“It was over a patient,” she adds with a shrug, like that justifies everything—which, to her, it probably does. “He made a comment. I made a correction.”

You smile into your glass, “Why does this not surprise me?”

Emery shrugs, mouth twitching. “Because I’m consistent.”

“Consistently reckless.”

“Consistently principled,” she corrects with a grin. “You’ve known that since day one.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. She always does this—teases until she says something that sticks. Until you have to ask yourself if she meant it.

“So it’s basically your fault for not keeping better company.”

Your friendship and subsequent wine nights were triggered by your first major case after joining the hospital’s legal team. A newly acquired surgeon with more edge than polish, almost hung out to dry by senior leadership over a family’s lawsuit. You’d gone to bat for her hard. And Emery had never forgotten it.

Two weeks later, she’d texted about some unpaid parking tickets. You’d called her ridiculous. She’d called you a killjoy. You’d said you’d think about it, bearing in mind she provided an incentive. She’d shown up with a bottle of white wine. And somehow, that was that.

“I liked that you called the opposing counsel a limp-dicked muppet in open court.”

“You’re misremembering.”

“Oh no,” she says, leaning forward, eyes bright with amusement, “that line is seared into my brain. I think that’s when I fell in love with you.”

She’s looking at you when she says it. Not smiling. Not teasing. Just watching.

The air shifts—barely—but enough that you feel the sweat bead at the back of your knees. A slow awareness rising along your spine.

You laugh, the sound low and loose in your throat. The wine has settled and warmed your chest, blooming lazily in your bloodstream. You feel good. Loose. Emery always brings her brand of chaos when she comes over—never overstays, never takes more than she gives, but always knows how to get under your skin just enough that it leaves you feeling a little flushed. A little untethered.

The kind of loose that lets your eyes linger a second too long.

The kind of warmth that seeps beneath your ribs and settles there, pulsing quietly.

And that’s exactly when the front door opens.

The latch clicks, followed by the creak of the door swinging open. You don’t turn right away. Neither does Emery. She just tilts her head back and groans theatrically, eyes to the sky.

“Oh, come on.”

You’re used to this. Jack doesn’t knock. Hasn’t in months since you pressed your spare key into his hand. Your lives are built around mismatched hours—his nights, your days. So he shows up, whether it’s after a shift or on a rare day off—like today.

“Shit, I didn’t know it was wine night,” he says, voice half-apology, half-amused.

Emery doesn’t even flinch. She raises her glass in a mock toast without turning from the balcony. “Were you hoping for a private audience? Because I’d hate to disappoint.”

There’s a beat. “I can leave.”

You open your mouth—but Emery beats you to it.

“No, you can stay,” she drawls, not even bothering to hide the amusement from her voice, “just as long as you don’t kill the mood.”

You finally glance over your shoulder. He’s in jeans and a grey t-shirt, his backpack still slung over his shoulder, hair damp likely from a shower before he came over. He looks tired—but not hollow like he does after a string of rough nights.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” you say.

Jack holds your gaze for half a second too long. Then nods.

There’s quiet between you and Emery as you listen to the sound of your fridge opening and the rattle of beer bottles before Jack is stepping out onto the balcony like he’s expecting someone to shoo him away. No one does.

“Am I going to be mocked the whole time?” he asks as he slips into the chair next to you.

“Yes,” Emery says, without missing a beat.

You roll your eyes as you reach for the sangria jug. It needs to be refilled, “I’ll be back,” you say, rising from your seat.

Jack’s hand finds your hip, his thumb skirting under the hem of your shirt. He meets your eyes for a breath. The warmth of him always catches you off guard, even in this heat—you lean down and kiss his forehead before you head to the kitchen.

When you return, fresh jug in hand, you refill Emery’s glass before your own. She lifts it toward you in thanks—a small gesture, lazy and easy. Then shifts in her seat, legs draping over your thighs, ankles hooking at your knee like it’s nothing. Like it’s always been this way.

Jack eyes Emery’s stake over you as he takes a slow drag of his beer, the bottle sweating already in the humid heat. He turns to watch the traffic snake along the hill across the way. A trail of brake lights in the darkening night. A siren wails somewhere in the distance. Familiar sounds. Hospital sounds. But you’re all far away enough that it’s just a distant afterthought.

“So, what’s the topic tonight?” Jack asks.

Emery doesn’t answer right away. She just gives him a slow once-over, tongue tucked into her cheek.

“Cultural taboos,” she says. “We were about to dive into how often we all think about taking the Lord’s name in vain during sex.”

Jack, well-versed in Emery, raises a brow as he takes another sip of his drink, then turns to you for the correct answer.

You shrug, holding back a smile. “I plead the Fifth.”

Emery snorts.

Jack chuckles into his beer, but he’s still watching you both like he’s reading a new language he’s almost fluent in.

The fan inside kicks a little harder, then dies with a rattle. You sigh, and fan yourself with the edge of a napkin.

“Great, add that to the list of things around here that fail under pressure,” you mutter.

Jack raises an eyebrow, “You talking about your apartment or your—”

“—taste in men?” Emery finishes for him, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

You almost choke on your sangria. Jack’s mouth quirks up at the corner, but he doesn’t rise to the bait.

“I was going to say—like your company’s choice in branch of military.”

Emery doesn’t so much as blink. Just lifts her glass, takes a slow sip, and sets it back down with a quiet click. Her gaze flicks toward you, lazy and deliberate, mouth curving around something wicked.

“Mm,” she hums. “Well, what can I say? She’s clearly got a type—testy, decorated, a little broken.”

Jack huffs a laugh, low and warm in his chest, shaking his head.

Emery leans back in her chair, eyes dancing.

“Though if you ask me… she just needs the right person to help her refine it.”

The balcony is small. The kind of small where elbows brush, knees knock, and personal space is not much of an option.

The heat pulses around you, thick and insistent. Emery’s legs are still draped across your lap. Every shift of her weight makes your skin buzz. You’re too aware of the soft edge of her thigh, the rise of her knee. It’s not new—but you’re not sure you’ve ever noticed it like this.

“Emery,” you warn, but your voice comes out breathier than intended.

You shift under her, but you don’t move her legs. You just adjust.

Jack leans back in his chair, one arm resting on the side, the setting sun throwing slashes of gold across his face. His hair curled against his temple, damp from the humidity. He looks impossibly handsome in the half-light—rugged and soft at once.

You catch yourself staring.

And when you look away—you find Emery already watching you.

She doesn’t look away.

The heat creeps higher up your neck. Not just from the weather.

Jack clears his throat. “You two been out here long?”

“Long enough,” Emery answers for you before taking a long sip of her drink.

Jack smirks, his attention flicks back to you, “Is she drunk?”

You roll your eyes, “She’s fine.”

Emery holds up a hand, thumb and forefinger pinched close. “Buzzed.”

He takes another sip of his beer, slower this time, watching the two of you like he’s trying to piece something together. Not suspicious. Not jealous. But he’s clocking it all—your proximity, Emery’s tone, the fact you haven’t moved her feet from your lap.

You could toss out a joke. Keep things light. But you don’t. You just reach for your own drink, holding the chilled glass against your neck in an attempt to cool yourself.

The moon is peaking out from behind a patchy cluster of clouds. You’re all a few glasses in now. The jug of sangria is nearly dry, and no one’s moved to refill it. The heat has mellowed with the night, but it’s still clinging—draping everything in a slow, silky kind of weight. Your limbs feel boneless. You’re not drunk. Just… loose.

The conversation has drifted into work territory—of course it has. That’s the only language the three of you speak fluently, even off the clock.

“Did you see the memo from Facilities?” Emery asks, lazily swirling what’s left in her glass. “Apparently, the fourth-floor nurse’s lounge is also now a storage unit.”

Jack lets out a dry laugh and raises his bottle in mock salute. “Healthcare efficiency at its finest.”

It settles after that. Not awkward. Just… quiet.

Jack stretches out in his chair now, legs sprawled, fingers resting on the neck of his beer. His shirt’s gone soft at the collar, hanging loose. Emery had long dropped her legs from your lap, her seat is closer now than it was earlier. He glances between you and Emery now and then, but doesn’t speak. He’s letting whatever is on his tongue breathe.

You shift slightly, brushing your shoulder against Emery’s as you reach for your glass again—instinctive, automatic. But you don’t move away when you settle back into your seat. Neither does she.

Her elbow stays close to yours, her thigh pressed lightly against your leg. And when she turns to say something—something forgettable about a surgical resident—it happens.

You both lean in.

Your breath catches.

And for once—you don’t look away.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Butternut Squash (The Surprise, Part 19)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, mentions of female anatomy/breastfeeding, explicit language (let me know if I missed anything!) Word count: 2.2k

Summary: You and Emily don't really need a baby shower, but you do need help getting the nursery ready, so the whole BAU comes over one Saturday to help out.

Week 29: The Butternut Squash

You had insisted on no gifts. You and Emily had plenty of money. You didn’t need a registry, and you didn’t need a baby shower. What you did need was help getting the nursery decorated and set up. So Emily–fresh off a 4-day case–had invited the entire BAU over to help prep the nursery on a rare, free Saturday.

“Emily,” you complained that Friday morning when she came home. “I won’t even have time to make food!”

“You don’t need time to make food,” she chastised, wrapping her arms around you from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. “Because we’re just gonna have it delivered.”

You scoffed. “I always cook, Em. It’s my whole thing!”

She turned you around and grasped your face in her hands, kissing the tip of your nose, then moving to your lips. You huffed impatiently, even as your stomach erupted in butterflies (and maybe a few kicks from the baby) when Emily kissed you. “Okay, well, right now your whole thing is being seven months pregnant, so…”

“I could at least make cookies…” you grumbled. “If you get me chocolate chips from the store?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at you, but smiled lightly. “Will it make you happy?”

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, turning on the charm and your very best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, kissing you one more time for good measure and grabbing her keys from the counter. “I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.”

“Thank you, my love!” you called after her, a little too giddy with your grocery store victory.

“Yeah, yeah…” she muttered, shutting the door, but you knew she was smiling behind it.

But, now, here you were. Saturday, mid-morning. A plate of fresh-baked, homemade brown butter chocolate chip cookies on a plate on the coffee table… along with gifts from every single member of the BAU. Despite insisting they not bring any.

Hotch sat in the living room with you, playing Mario Kart on the Switch with Dave and Jack. Penelope gossiped with you on the couch. Meanwhile, Emily was running operations in the nursery, and every so often you could hear her ordering Derek and Spencer around. It made you giggle. JJ squeezed your shoulder, hovering back and forth between rooms.

“You need anything, Y/N?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Thanks, JJ. Just… make sure Emily doesn’t get too bossy.”

JJ laughed. “Oh, I’m not sure anyone can do that.”

“Can we do gifts now? I think we should do gifts! Open mine, Y/N!” Penelope insisted, patting the spot next to her on the couch for JJ and handing you a glittery gift bag. You should’ve known they wouldn’t listen when you’d said not to bring gifts. You would’ve done the same thing. They were your family, after all.

You pulled out the tissue paper to reveal several tiny baby onesies in bright colors with adorable designs and sayings. Happy Camper. Silly Little Bear. Even one with tiny dinosaurs all over that said Babysaurus. Your heart felt like it might burst thinking about how cute your little one was going to look in these.

“Penelope, these are so cute!” You wrapped her in a hug. “I’m gonna send you so many pictures of her in these!”

“I know you guys are waiting to find out the gender, so I tried to pick ones that were gender neutral. Although, I mean I guess technically every outfit is gender neutral or… should be, or–”

You stopped her before she spiraled. “They’re perfect."

Before you knew it, Jack was pressed up against you, shoving another gift bag into your hands.

“Open ours, Aunt Y/N!”

You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze. “Thanks, buddy. I can’t wait to see what it is!”

You pulled out the most adorable stuffed gray wolf, soft as velvet, complete with two little pointy felt teeth sticking out.

“Oh, Jack, it’s perfect!”

“His name is Wolfie,” Jack told you, snatching the toy back.

“Jack,” Hotch scolded. “Remember, that’s for Aunt Emily and Aunt Y/N’s baby. It’s not yours.”

Hotch looked at you apologetically, and you shook your head to let him know it wasn’t a big deal.

“I made you this picture, too,” Jack said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper. You smoothed it out to find stick figures of you and Emily. He’d drawn your belly as a big circle, with a tiny swaddled baby inside of it. You grinned.

“Now, this is art, Jack. This is going right on the fridge.”

“This is you,” he said, pointing. “And this is Aunt Emily. And this is the baby inside your tummy.”

Speaking of the baby, she was incredibly active right now. Almost as if she, too, was happy to be with her BAU family.

“You want to feel her kick?” you asked Jack, and he nodded. You grasped his hand in yours and pressed it over your baby bump, estimating at the last place she’d kicked. Jack screeched when he felt her kick his hand, jumping on his tiptoes.

“Oh my gosh!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh! Daddy, there’s an alive baby in there!”

Hotch smiled at you. He was such a good dad. A good team leader. A good friend to you and Emily.

“After she’s born, Jack, you’ll have to come over and hold her,” you told him, but he was already gone, distracted the Switch.

“Aw, crap,” Dave exclaimed as Hotch hit him with a red shell. Hotch chuckled. “Y/N, go ahead and open up mine,” Dave said. “I’ve already lost this race. It’s the one with the silver paper.”

Penelope grabbed the gift for you, since your arms wouldn’t quite reach all the way to the coffee table. You ripped off the paper to reveal a box set that read, “Ciao Pasta Bistro.” It included a tiny little metal stock pot and colander, little ladles, and soft felt pasta shapes–bowties and raviolis and elbow noodles and shells.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking it over. Penelope and JJ leaned next to you to get a closer look. “This is freaking adorable.”

“The little meatball’s gonna know her pasta shapes if Uncle Dave has anything to say about it!” Dave called, cheering as he zoomed past Hotch with Star Power.

“Thank you so much, Dave,” you said, and you really meant it. They were such thoughtful gifts, so particular to each of them. You couldn't wait to show the baby, to let her get to know her BAU family, too.

JJ waited until everyone was distracted and Penelope had been dragged into Mario Kart (“Okay, but I’ll win! They don’t call me a tech goddess for nothing!”) to give you her gift. She sat next to you and pulled a bag from underneath the coffee table.

“These are more for you than for the baby,” JJ explained. “But if your pregnancy is anything like mine, you’ll get plenty of baby gifts, but not a whole lot of mom gifts.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, JJ.” You squeezed her hand.

She pulled things out one by one, displaying them discreetly and explaining their purpose. “Listen, your nipples will hurt so bad. So bad. Just telling it like it is. So…” She held up a plastic tube. “Nipple cream. This one was my favorite. Also, silver nursing cups. I can’t explain why the silver makes them less sore, but it does.”

You nodded, feeling both overwhelmed and extremely grateful. “It’s basic, but there’s also a food delivery gift card in here. I know you love to cook, but I promise you’re not gonna feel like it for a while after giving birth.”

“JJ, I don’t know what to say. This is so nice.”

She held up a finger to stop you. “Last gift.” She pointed to herself. “Me and Will. We’re happy to babysit. Often, if you like.” When she saw you start to protest, she said, “Look, Henry’s getting older, and I really miss baby snuggles. So it’s really no trouble at all.”

You felt like you might cry. It wasn’t that nobody paid attention to you or took care of you during your pregnancy. Emily took excellent care of you. It was just that JJ was right. Most people looked at the end of your pregnancy and the birth of the baby as the end of the hard part for the birthing parent. But you knew that wasn’t going to be the case. And JJ knew, too. You were so grateful for her friendship, for her support.

“Thank you so much, JJ,” you said quietly, pulling her in for a hug.

“Oh, are you opening gifts?” Spencer asked, entering the room and hovering quietly behind you.

“Yep!” you said, watching him retrieve a tidy package wrapped in newspapers and hand it to you. You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you guys done with the nursery already!?”

Spencer chuckled. “Oh, no. Not even close. I just snuck out while Emily was yelling at Morgan.”

You shrugged and started tearing the paper. “That tracks.”

Inside Spencer’s package was a set of colorful board books with titles like Quantum Physics for Babies, General Relativity for Babies, and Rocket Science for Babies.

“Spencer, these are awesome!” you exclaimed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Baby Prentiss is gonna be a genius.”

“You know, that’s probably true,” Spencer observed, taking Penelope's place in front of the TV next to Jack. “Scientifically speaking, children inherit their intelligence from their mother, not their father. So no matter how intelligent or unintelligent the donor was, the baby will inherit your intellect. And you’re really smart, so it’s likely the baby will be, too.”

“Trust Reid to come with a prepped science lesson,” Emily said, poking her head around the corner.

You threw a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in Emily’s general direction. “Zip it, Em! I like hearing about what Spencer knows.”

“Nerd,” she muttered under her breath, coming up behind you to place her hands on your shoulders and kiss the top of your head. “You alright? You need anything?”

You squeezed her hand. “I need you... to stop being so mean to Derek.”

“Thank you!” Derek exclaimed, emerging from the hallway to shove Emily out of the way and plant a kiss on your cheek. “It’s nice to know someone around here cares about Uncle Derek.”

Emily shoved him back. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to have to tell the little butternut squash that you wussed out of painting his nursery one wall in.”

Derek grabbed one of the cookies from the coffee table and took a bite, momentarily closing his eyes in enjoyment. You smiled. This is why you loved cooking and baking.

“Listen, Prentiss,” he teased. “I’m taking a well-deserved break. You’re lucky I love your girl or I wouldn’t put up with this shit.”

“Ooh!” Jack squealed. “He said a bad word!”

Derek looked at Hotch apologetically, then reached down to grab the last unopened gift bag. 

“Here, mama,” he said, handing it to you. “Saved the best for last.”

You grinned at him, handing Emily the loose tissue paper as you opened the gift. Inside was a collection of soft toys that included a football, a whistle, and a little number one finger.

“Oh, man, are we gonna have a little football fan, Uncle Derek?” you asked, grinning cheekily.

“Not just any football fan,” he insisted. “There’s one more thing in there.”

You pulled out a tiny Chicago Bears onesie, complete with a number 34 on the back for Walter Payton.

“A Bears fan, huh?” you said, smiling from ear to ear.

“I figured since the little guy or gal’s gonna be born right as football season’s kicking off, he’ll spend a lot of time on the couch watching the games with Uncle Derek. And we gotta be decked out in our matching gear.”

“If you let us sleep, Morgan,” Emily said, squeezing his shoulder playfully. “You can indoctrinate my son into being a sports fan all you want.”

“Or daughter!” you protested, and the whole team laughed. By now, your faux-feud over the baby’s gender was well-known. They were even placing bets. It was about a 50/50 split.

“Alright, guys,” Emily said, clapping her hands together and rallying the troops. “One wall down, two walls to go. And one wall of wallpaper, but I don’t think that’ll take as long.”

JJ, Penelope, Hotch, and Dave stood to follow Emily to the nursery while Derek took a seat next to you. Spencer sat cross-legged on the floor with Jack, fully immersed in Mario Kart.

“Be there in a second, Emily,” he called. “We’re about to start Rainbow Road.”

You grinned, so glad to be surrounded by Emily’s family–her real family. Happy that you had people who were excited for you, people who took care of you, people who gave up their Saturday to help you get ready to welcome a new family member.

“Hey, Jack, add me and Derek in for the next round,” you said, lowering yourself gently onto the floor, Derek’s hand instinctively grasping yours to support you. “I play a mean Moo Moo Meadows.”

[leafofkudzu]

Hi hello my computer exploded earlier this week so apologies for the cursed and late announcement post, but prepare yourselves! The first Saturday of a new month is tomorrow, which means it's time for another...

[VS] Art Party

July 6th, 2024 Captain's Cut, Stormbluff Isle Bloodtide Coast

Round 1 (EU): 9pm-12am CEST (3pm EDT) Round 2 (NA): 7pm-10pm EDT (1am CEST)

For those who aren’t familiar with art parties, they’re a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!

Location Information:

It's another, proper beach episode! While I don't have the technical capacity at the moment to get a map screenshot of the location, it's essentially the southwest edge of Stormbluff Isle, the nearest waypoint being Stormbluff Waypoint! Here's a picture from the wiki of the entire island for reference:

Time & Squad Details:

As we always do, we’ll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between. People tend to arrive early and/or jump between accounts as soon as the break comes up, so don’t be surprised to see tags and announcements going up ahead of schedule!

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). This time due to work conflicts I will NOT be the one starting the squad, but will instead be joining about an hour or so in! So, please welcome our first 'guest' [VS] tag, @vampiricsheep! Please /squadjoin or whisper Vegetarian Maneater for an invite in my absence, it'll treat you well and with my blessing. ♥

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or an hour before in-game reset). I’ll be back to hosting this one and be on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Kirslyn for an invite.

Closing Words

I said it at the top of the post but here I am saying it again - I am so sorry for the delay. The intention was to get this out on Mon/Tues at the latest due to me being busy with Dawntrail, but both my SSDs thought it was time to fry themselves and I've been scrambling to rebuild everything from scratch ever since. I've more or less got things back to a usable state now though, so I look forward to seeing everyone (and their shiny new anet-sanctioned beach outfits?) tomorrow! Thank you for always coming out to these and making them fun, they're one of the highlights of my time in game! ♥♥♥

[lifewastedinbarswithboys]

Scars - V.V.

the night after the DVD performance leaves you and ville with many problems to come.

tw: nsfw smut, extreme kinks, heavy violence, controversially young girlfriend, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, cutting

word count: 6.8k

ville valo x reader

---

this is my first fanfic, it may not be the best but i hope you enjoy it

disclaimer: basically cnc. this is a fake scenario not to be taken seriously, so please do not read it if you are uncomfortable with heavy violence.

---

11pm Saturday night in Los Angeles

It was a somber night out, the weather felt fuzzy on your skin. This so-called "winter" wasn't chilly, it was a new, but nice change considering the fact Helsinki was freezing. Ville had just gotten done with his gig at the Orpheum Theatre, performing an unforgettable show for the Digital Versatile Doom DVD.

You waited in the backstage, tuning in to his echoed melody while laying down, smoking off a cigarette and plopped down on this old, black leather couch that had most likely seen too many inappropriate things to dare even mention.

The band had already started entering the room. Ville's dark, alluring presence noticed, his sharp green eyes instantly locking with yours, and a tired, but happy to see you smile painting onto his face.

He was wearing a nice black outfit, leather pants and a black button up rolled up as far as they could go. He was taking off his leather jacket, dripping in sweat from the heat of the lights on stage. He ran his hands through his humid, brunette, and sweaty curly hair.

Ville walks up to you, closely, his lips curling, giving you a shy smirk, his eyes softening as he looks deeply into your eyes, his full of affection. “Y/N! I was missing you out there.. we put on quite the show. We performed the best we had in a while, and I’m surprised I didn’t have to be drunk the whole time to make it through.” He laughed with a sweet smile that traveled to his eyes.

Ville had just gotten out of rehab, the reason he went, was because he was abusing alcohol so much that he couldn’t go a day without it. Matter of fact, the first thing he did when he woke up was drink a beer, and by night he was 5 shots deep into some heavy whiskey.

“Catch you later Ville.” Mige replied. “I don’t want to interrupt your night together in Los Angeles…” He left a teasing smirk to Ville as he winked at you, knowing what the intentions were, and left the room, the rest of the band led out as well.

Ville gave a genuine smile and then shut the door behind them as they left to go party at the hotel, sighing and turning back around to face you, laughing it off and nodding his head.

“I heard you out there.” You replied, smiling.

“Anything else to say, rakas?” Ville said, sitting down next to you on the couch, lending a hand over to you and stealing the cigarette from your lips before pursing it between his own.

“Hello… I was enjoying that!”

It was his cigarette anyway, you were only 18. Ville bought you cigarettes since you weren’t of age, and also just because he wanted to do a favor for no particular reason.

“Oh shut up, I buy these for you anyway, they’re technically mine.” He replied.

“Not like you don’t buy them for me anyway, even when I don’t ask.” You replied cockily with a hint of teasing in your tone.

Ville turned to face you, and pulled your face closer with his finger. He took a long drag and held your face by your chin, looking deeply into your eyes with his sultry expression.

“I would buy you anything kulsani. and I’d do anything for you, you don’t have to worry.” He said.

Ville blew his cigarette smoke into your mouth, lips almost touching just slightly, feeling your lip ring hit his soft bottom lip. while you both closed your eyes and felt the nicotine rise up into your brain. The entire world felt like it was stopped for just the two of you in the backstage room.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips and tucked your hair behind your ear and gently placed a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled and kissed him once again softly, you were completely in love with him. You felt like you were being drowned in affection that you had never felt in your life. In the past, you were always hurt by your partners. Being abandoned that many times caused you to be cautious about love. But when Ville Valo, your favorite singer and gothic rock icon first talked to you and paid for your clothes when you were out shopping in Helsinki, you didn’t think twice about going home with him to his hotel room that night.

Maybe he was using you. You weren’t sure how his other relationships ended because you were scared to ask. You didn’t want to ruin the relationship you had going on. Many of your friends from high school warned you not to get easily manipulated by rocker guys, since you were always at shows and many of the times the singers would hit on you after. Yet you were always sitting on the curb, waiting for them to come out hours later after they were drunk anyway. Not like they knew anything about your secret life.

“I was thinking about going out to the bar downtown. Some guys I know are going to be there, they wanna see me since I’ve been so busy with the album and recovery… it’s all been a little rough lately. But at least I have you by my side… my love.”

“Are you sure… Ville? Aren’t you done with drinking after rehab? You worked so hard to get clean, baby. I just don’t want you to regret that.” You softly replied.

“I know you’re worried angel.” He cupped your cheek and smiled. “How about you come with me? We’ll get a few drinks together and I won’t get trashed. I promise. You’ll be with me the whole time my love.” Ville said, reassuringly.

“That sounds fine by me, I just want to be with you. It’s been so lonely since you’ve been preparing so much for this concert tonight.” You sighed softly, looking up at him with babydoll eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, prinsessa. I’ll get worked up and I still want to have a good time tonight.” Ville’s eyebrow raised and he slowly traveled his hands up your tank top.

“And by the way, I’m just warning you. My “friends” around here, are in love with you. They want to fuck you so bad it’s borderline obsession with our relationship. So stay with me, I can’t let you go out of my sight. I’m worried about you. Got it?” He replied sternly as he grabbed both your tits in one grasp of his hand while the other grazed your neck, bejeweled with silver rings, so tightly they dug into your skin.

Your cheeks flushed red, you replied with a choke, “Yes sir.”

“That’s my good girl.” Ville replied with a cocky smirk and quickly let go of your body like he knew how much he affected you but didn’t care. “Now let’s get out of here before they kick us out so they can clean this place.” He got up and placed a firm arm around your waist and led you outside.

1 hour later in downtown Los Angeles

The town was bustling with people and older fans who went out after the show near the private bar reserved for Ville and people he knew. Fans were taking pictures and videos of you two walking hand in hand in the light rain, staring wide eyed and jealously. Ville had put his leather jacket back on and you were wearing the tiniest black lace dress with high black boots. You just made sense together. Ville was 31, you had just turned 18, and online there was discourse about how fans think you’re too young and that Ville was a “creep” for going after such a young girl as yourself.

You didn’t think so, Ville loved you with everything he had, and you loved him even more. You wanted to serve him, do anything for his pleasure. Even if he was a genuinely kind gentlemen towards you, and didn’t expect anything, part of you longed for the violence that you experienced with your pasts lovers. If anything, it made the relationship feel more intense. It seems so wrong, but your biggest fantasy was how Ville sang about his past lover in For You. Specifically the lyric, “And I’m dying for your love…” Even if that was 10 years ago, you knew Ville still had destructive tendencies and unhealed wounds. He just hadn’t shown you them yet.

“Are you used to all of this attention yet Y/N?” Ville looked down at you with his dark green eyes and smiled.

“Not yet, it’s kind of overwhelming to be getting so many mean stares. For one, I don’t know what I did to deserve them.” You laughed.

Ville softly put his arm around you and let his hand travel up your skin and gave you a light scratch as he was tracing down with his fingernail.

“Everyone should be jealous of you, kaunis.” He sweetly smiled at you and you kept walking. “Your beauty is like the warm sun after a dark storm.”

You were approaching the bar, and the bouncers moved away to let the two of you in. Ville let go of your hand to go talk to the guys whom he knew from his rocker spaces, despite his promise of staying close to you the entire night. You took a seat on the red velvet couch in the corner, watching him as he left and talked about the show he’d just performed.

--

From the corner or your eye, you saw a familiar face with dark eyes, and black hair make quick eye contact with you while he was sitting at the bar talking to Ville. You recognized his tattoos, he had many weapons tattooed on him like guns, knives, and razorblades. And then all of your memories came flooding back.

It was Michal, your first boyfriend, who you met back when you were 16 at the Type O Negative show. Later that night, he bought you a drink and asked how old you were, you were 16 and he was 22. He grabbed the back of your neck and smashed his lips onto yours. You pulled him in closer and kissed him back, his nails digging in your skin as you reciprocated his advances. He asked if you wanted to hookup, and you said yes. He led you into the one stall bathroom in the back and fucked you until you cried. You ended up dating for 2 years until you broke things off. You wanted more freedom to fuck other people and he was too possessive over you. His band was not successful, he also cheated on you several times with other young girls, and when you turned 18 it seemed he didn’t have much interest in you anymore. It wasn’t much of a heart break, you could have anyone you wanted and some random 22 year old pedophile wasn’t your endgame. But clearly Ville knew him somehow.

You got up and went to go sit at the bar, ordering a glass of red wine and 2 shots of tequila. Ville had gone somewhere out of sight in the bar, and you tried to ignore the piercing gaze coming from Michal sitting 2 seats away from you.

When you finished taking your first shot of tequila and downing the red wine as your chaser, suddenly, you felt two hands wrap around your waist. You looked over to your left and Michal wasn’t there anymore, so this only meant that he was right behind you, holding your waist in place so you couldn’t move.

As you tried to keep your composure, you snap at him. And turned to face him while he was standing in front of you. “What are you doing here? I thought Ville only talked to successful people.”

“You’re funny, Y/N.” Michal replied as he pulled a pack of Marlboro reds out of his jacket and lit one. He handed you one and you palmed it for later. Free cigarettes won’t hurt right? You thought.

“I’ve known Ville longer than you, and I know things that he’s done that are worse than anything I’ve ever done to you.” He smirked and cupped your cheek.

You forced his hand off of you. “Ville is kinder than any man I’ve ever been with. Especially you.” You replied, annoyed that he’s even talking to you.

As you tried to turn around, dismissing him, Michal lifted up your dress and rubbed his thumb over the scars he inflicted on your thighs. You didn’t self harm like your friends assumed you did, you were too ashamed to admit that the guys you dated cut you themselves, sometimes as punishment and other times for their own pleasure. It was hard to admit to yourself that you had a kink for this and enjoyed being cut by your partner in a sexual setting.

Your face flushed from embarrassment and quickly slapped his hand away. “Can you stop? I came here with Ville. I’ve been done with you since last year.” You replied, you wanted none of his bullshit.

“I bet Ville doesn’t do any of the shit I did to you, he bores you a little doesn’t he?” He mocked. “Wait until you find out how Ville treated his ex girlfriends, he didn’t just cut them, there’s a reason they weren’t seen with him in public.” Michal replied.

“What are you talking about?” You were genuinely curious and concerned because you knew nothing other than surface level details about Ville’s past.

“He sexually abused them, a lot. Every single one of them.” He scoffed. “Back then before we even met he would come to the bars with us and show videos of him beating them while he laughed. Ville is not a good person, Y/N. You may think I’m bad, but he will just do the same thing to you. You won’t be able to go outside eventually, he’s desperately trying to protect his image now. Especially since you just turned 18 and you’re dating…. all eyes are on you.” He whispered.

You were in the process of taking your last tequila shot, and almost poured your wine on your black dress because of what he told you, in disbelief at his words.

“And why aren’t the ex girlfriends coming out with their stories? I’m not gonna believe your word at all. You’re lying.” You’ve had enough of Michal. But you were so shocked that you believed him just a bit. There’s no way he would make something up like this.

“Wanna know where Ville went now? He told me he was going to the private basement. You didn’t see him grab drinks up here because he has more down there. Who knows what he’s up to. And it’s not just alcohol, he has cocaine, ketamine, crack cocaine, you name it. He even has to snort viagra to get his dick up. He’s such a fucking addict it’s disgusting. He’s a trashy piece of shit.” Michal came closer to you and grabbed your wrist. “I’m not though, I don’t have to snort viagra to get my dick up. You should know that anyways, darling. You know that all too well.” He smirked and played with your lip ring with his thumb.

You’ve only been dating Ville short of 4 months, and before that you were dating Michal and having life changing sex with him almost everyday. So far with Ville, things were pretty vanilla. You weren’t getting your needs met and despite your love for him, the side of you that craves sex more than love was coming out against your will. And if those things Michal said about Ville are true, you didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t necessarily like being controlled or hidden away from the world, but he never showed you any violence like Michal said he showed his past girlfriends. It was all just a confused mess… yet…

Michal pulled you closer to him. He grabbed your waist and led you to the red velvet couch you were originally sitting on. Things were going to get real messy if any of Ville’s friends cared enough to tell him about what was happening. He pushed you down against the pillow and forced himself on top of you. He kissed you passionately, and your hands ran through his soft curls as he started trailing kisses up your thigh. At this point, both of you were really drunk, and didn’t even care to stop because of other people in the room. They were too absorbed in themselves anyways, and the loud speaker blasting London After Midnight drowned out any noises you were making. He slipped your black lace panties off with his teeth, and started delicately licking your clit while you pulled on his black locks. Michal took your panties and slipped them into his pocket. You were enjoying his sloppy kisses too much to care and he stuck 2 fingers inside of you. You were too close now, and he curled his fingers to feel your sweet spot over and over. You kept moving your hips around in desperate pleasure, Michal used both of his arms to pin you down as you exhausted your body trying to squirm from under his grasp.

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop, I’m so close…” you whined.

Michal stopped just then and stuck his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste your own insides.

“I always knew you were a dirty slut. I just had to test my theory tonight. Good luck trying to finish your orgasm I already started with Ville.” He pressed a small kiss to your lips, and pulled your dress down. No clean up, no nothing. You knew you had to leave immediately. You couldn’t stay and get possible questions from any bystanders tonight. Everyone in the bar was practically blackout drunk, so by tomorrow no one was going to remember if they saw anything.

“Fuck you.” You pushed him away and left the bar. You needed a cigarette to help calm your nerves. What the fuck did you just do? If Ville found out anything happened between the two of you who knows what he would do? Would you end up like his ex girlfriends? Or turn into something worse because you just cheated on him with your ex, that’s his friend? Your head was spinning and your stomach was turning from the paranoia along with being drunk. You had to get out of that bar, you were overwhelmed with stress. The only place to go to get some solitude was an alleyway lit up by a streetlight about a block away from the bar. Far enough way so you could only hear the faint sound of the song that just came on in the bar. “Cherry” by Lana Del Rey.

Ville’s POV:

“What the fuck is going on up here? Didn’t I specifically mention I didn’t want you all to be trying to bang on my door?” Ville angrily groaned while coming up from the basement.

Everyone in the bar was gathered around Michal, and when Ville came up from the basement everyone turned to face Ville and their smiles dropped.

Ville’s eyes instantly turned to Michal’s. Michal was smirking at Ville in a condescending manner and laughed as Ville slowly walked over to him with nothing but pure rage developing on his face.

“What the fuck is this all about?” Ville spit out his words.

Michal pulled out your panties from his pocket and dangled them in front of Ville’s face. “Looks like your little Angel got tired of your shitty ass dick Ville. I had Y/N screaming on that couch begging for me not to stop. She was angry that I didn’t keep going, but I felt bad for you and didn’t want to humiliate you further by making her cum on my fingers… so she just left. Good luck finding her. Your sweet little girl is scared of you now, you abusing piece of shit.”

The entire room was silent other than for the speaker, he was going to keep going on with his mocking speech, but Ville quickly shut him up by delivering a punch to Michal’s mouth.

“Shut the fuck up before I fucking kill you. It wouldn’t be my first time.” Ville yelled at Michal’s face as he was trying to recover from Ville’s knuckles impaling him.

Michal just started laughing. Ville stared at him for a moment in disbelief before Michal delivered a punch harder than before to Ville’s face with iron brass knuckles attached on his hand.

Everyone watched silently in shock as Ville’s lip started bleeding and his eye turned purple. No one even tried to stop it or help, everyone was too drunk to get involved and just silently rooted for either Ville or Michal.

“You fucking bastard. We can play these games together.” He yelled hoarsely as he quickly pulled his switchblade out from his back pocket and aimed for Michal’s arm. He sliced his long sleeve open and created a large gash so deep it caused Michal to stumble to the bar table to try to gain his balance.

“Fuck. Ville. WHAT THE FUCK.” Michal yelled and moaned in pain.

Ville ran over to him and pinned his arms down to the table. He took his switchblade once again and sliced off Michal’s pinky finger and quickly stuffed it in his pocket. Michal yelled out in indescribable pain and screamed. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The people in the bar started yelling and ran out because they didn’t want to stay in the bar if there is a chance someone could die; and that chance was too high.

Michal tried to yell out “Help” but his voice gave out and wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear except Ville. He fainted on the hard floor and Ville stomped on his face and chest repeatedly until he was satisfied with the outcome of his torment. Ville spit on his face and rubbed his boot into Michal’s beat up face. He gave him one last kick before taking your panties from Michal’s pocket and then leaving the bar, pulling out a pack of cigarettes without a word.

Ville took a long drag of his cigarette. “Now where the fuck did she go?” He was talking hoarsely to himself. Ville was walking at a fast pace, yet almost tripping over himself in a drunken rage after his bloody fight with Michal. He checked his phone, 3am in the morning. The blood kept flowing from his nose, his hands tainted with dried blood, a mixture of his and Michal’s. His knife was dirty and had Michal’s dried blood left on the blade.

Y/N’s POV:

Your head was spinning. Ville hadn’t come to find you yet? You weren’t sure if you missed him or if you were scared that he would eventually find you. What if everything Michal said about Ville was true? What if he found out what you did back there in the bar less than an hour ago? You tried to smoke the cigarette Michal gave you to try and relax, but you hadn’t eaten all day and you were only feeling more light headed and your hands were shaking more than before. You wanted to vomit. You wished you could just skip to the next year. You hoped that Ville could understand and be caring, the worst he would be a little angry but the best he would give a soft kiss to your forehead and take you home to sleep in his arms. That’s all you wanted at that moment. You put your head down to stare at the floor and silently smoked the cigarette, deep in thought.

Suddenly you heard the gravel below you stir. You looked over and saw Ville standing there, beaten and bruised.

“Ville? What happened?! Are you okay?” You cried out. He didn’t reply, he only walked slowly up to you with no expression on his face.

“Ville?”

Ville walked up to you grabbed the cigarette Michal gave you. He took a long drag, and then proceeded to put out the cigarette on your collarbone. You winced and had no time to reply, Ville delivered a slap to your face that left your cheek stinging. You didn’t say a word, only groaning at the pain.

“Care to explain what the fuck this is?” Ville pulled out your panties and shoved them into your mouth so you weren’t even able to answer.

“I heard about what you did back there in the bar. That motherfucker Michal was bragging to everyone in the room about how you were about to cum right on the couch from his fucking tongue.” He grabbed a handful of your hair and put his hand around your neck with his other hand. Your stomach dropped. He fucking knew. And you couldn’t say anything. You were against the brick wall in the alley, only a light illuminating the two of you in the pitch black darkness.

“I know how he fucked and ruined your body in the past, and I know I’ve been holding back for a long fucking time. I’ve been waiting for you to break and do something to piss me off so I could show you.” Ville said, he was scary now. You had no idea what was going to happen in the next 5 minutes and Michal’s words were flooding your head with what he said about Ville’s violence with his past partners.

Before you could look him in the eye, Ville shoved his tongue in your mouth. It was way too much to handle, and you moaned in his mouth from the taste of blood combined with the surprise of his mouth on yours. Your heart was beating so fast and you knew he felt it while his hand was around your neck.

“You like this honey? I know you do. Why the fuck did you decide to cheat on me tonight? Do you know how fucking humiliating it felt to walk back from the basement and see everyone staring at me? And that son of a bitch Michal who had a stupid smirk on his face? Do you understand me?” He spat in your mouth before he broke the kiss.

Suddenly, Ville punched you in the face with his bare bloody fist right on your fresh lip piercing. The entire world went black for a minute. Behind your eyes, you only saw white flashes and smelled Ville’s hot whiskey breath close to you.

When you came back to your senses, you looked down and Ville was looking up at you with his low green eyes while giving you dark purple hickeys on your thighs and small bite marks along with them. You were so close to falling over but he kept you standing with a firm grasp. The blood from his beaten lip was being stained in shapes of his lips on your thighs, and you were trying to regain your consciousness when you felt Ville’s knife slice against your scars that were last created by Michal.

“Ah fuck… Ville what are you doing?! Are you fucking cutting me?!” You said, running out of breath and wincing.

“You think I don’t know that you’re into this? I’m not an idiot Y/N. This is your punishment for being a fucking slut. After I just put on one of my best performances tonight, this is how you repay me? You have no reason to cut yourself, that’s how I know these aren’t from your blades. I also know you’re fucking enjoying this because you’re so wet for me. Ville licked your thigh up to your pussy, he circled your clit with his tongue with so much pressure applied, you could’ve came from his tongue alone. Ville stuck two fingers inside of you and curled them, hitting your sweet spot again and finishing what you started with Michal.

You weren’t holding back any moans now, the overwhelming pleasure from him cutting your thigh and stimulating your G spot was all too arousing for your debilitated body to take, your lip was still bleeding and you winced at the pain of your wound combined with your bloody lip.

“Shit, Ville I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna cum on your fucking fingers. Not like this… Please just fuck me. Please.”

Ville came up to stand up against your body and continued fingering you, moans kept escaping your lips consistently.

“How bad do you want it? More than that perv Michal? More than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life? Describe it to me baby. What do you want me to do? Beg for me and I’ll do anything.” Ville soothingly whispered in your ear.

Your hair was a mess, your dress had blood stains on it, your leg had an open wound and your fresh piercing was bleeding. On top of that Ville knocked you out cold before he decides to act all sweet and innocent before he fucks you senseless in an alley. You didn’t know what to think of it, but you longed to see this side of him ever since you became obsessed with Ville Valo. You weren’t soaked for no reason, he was doing everything that fulfilled your dirty desires to the utmost capacity.

“I need you inside of me, fuck me raw. Fuck me until I physically can’t take it anymore. I want to be nothing but your dirty slut that fulfills any fantasy you have. I want you to hurt me.” You replied, tearing up as he continued fingering you senseless.

No time was wasted before Ville stopped fingering you and grabbed a handful of your hair with one hand and your boobs with another, he kissed you passionately before he pushed you up against the wall and pressed your face in.

“This good my love?” Ville replied teasingly. “You look so good at my mercy, aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do to you when you can’t see me?” He pulled up your dress and slapped your ass so hard it left a mark.

You tried to reply, but before you know it, Ville had unbuckled his jeans and was rubbing his tip against your entrance.

“Fuck… I’m so needy for you Y/N. You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for a night like this.” He scoffed and let out low breaths as he continued to feel your pussy on him.

You took matters into your own hands and grinded your pussy onto him so he would be fully inside of you.

Ville let out a hoarse moan and fucked you at a slow pace as you continued grinding on him.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good.” Ville whispered.

He grabbed your neck from the front and pulled your head back so he had full control over you. You no longer had the ability to grind on him. Ville was completely pressed onto your back fucking you relentlessly rough, and you both weren’t holding back any sounds that escaped your broken bodies.

"Ohh.. Fuck." Ville murmured under his breath, his fingers strangling into your neck deeper with his silver rings as he feels your warm insides twitch around his cock.

His pace quickens, and your eyes roll back in pleasure and pain. Ville hitting your cervix so deep that the stinging is becoming more bothering, making you squirm against his strength. He let go of your neck and gripped onto your hips tightly, thrusting into your pussy and bringing your sweet spot more and more close to him, and fuck did it hurt even more, he was basically fucking you in every painful way you can think of.

“Please Ville, don’t stop.” He fucked you so good you were so close to a climax and you wanted it more than anything.

Ville lifted up your dress a bit more, reaching a hand to your front and stimulated your clit as he was fucking you relentlessly. He quickly reached that same hand to pinch onto your nipple hard.

"FUCK, Ville." you yelped out in pain, the sensation had became overwhelming, your body was trembling under his touch, fuck does it hurt. He pulled your hips towards him more, wrapping an arm around your neck tightly. It felt painful to make any noise as your throat felt too strained to even make a sound, your voice kept breaking as he had you wrapped beneath his touch.

"Ah.." Your voice kept breaking, turning quieter as he squeezed the oxygen out of you more by the second.

Ville stopped thrusting suddenly, pulling out and wrapping his other arm below your breasts, locking you against him, and letting his arm go and resting his hand on your collarbones, to then lower his head and nibble purple hickeys onto your neck, which quickly turned into a staggering sharp pain that you weren't prepared for as he dug his teeth into you hard, making you whimper.

“Ville. Please keep going. Why did you stop?” You were begging at this point.

Your fingers twitched and jabbed into his skin, holding his hand that's placed onto collarbone. You lowered your touch to grip tightly onto his wrist, your eyes squint with tears, wincing out in pain as his teeth finally let go of your sweet skin, blood dripping out of his mouth.

He lands one last kiss on your neck before starting to reach his hand over your pulse again, starting to squeeze excruciatingly, as you're on the brink of blacking out again, "Mmh.." you groaned out, your body barely staying standing as your vision gets blurry.

Ville let go of his iron grip on your body, the only strength that held you standing anyway. You fell to the ground on your knees, causing them to bleed. All you could focus on was desperately trying to catch your breath and trying not to throw up.

“Awe, what’s wrong kulsani? I thought you could handle this?” Ville said teasingly as he stood before you, looking down at you like a piece of trash.

He leans over your ear, his deep voice whispering. You feel his lips moving on your skin hanging on to every word he lets out into your ear. "You wanted to be such a fucking whore for Michal, hm? You had to let that ugly dickhead please you out since you're so desperate for someone's touch, no?" He bent down to stroke your bloodstained cheek.

“You got it now my love? Are you feeling happy?” He consoled you jokingly.

“N-no… I want to know what happened at the bar Ville. Tell me why you’re so beat up. Did Michal do this? I assume he did.” You replied, choking on your words.

“Eh, me? Beat up by him? This is nothing compared to how he looks now.” Ville pointed to his black eye and scoffed.

“What do you mean Ville? What the fuck did you do to him? Is he okay?!” You tried to get up to attack him to get answers, but as you tried to step up from the ground, Ville pushed you back down with his boot and scoffed.

“I don’t know if he’s okay. All I know is that I took something of his as a little souvenir to remember this lovely night.”

Ville kept his boot on your head while he shuffled in his pocket as he tried to find something. You had goosebumps, wondering what it is he was reaching for. Could it be one of Michal’s shirts? Worse case scenario it could be a lock of his hair. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what Ville was going to do.

Ville bent down to your level and lifted up your head while he forced your mouth open with only his thumb.

"What the hell is that Ville?!" You asked seriously, your body frozen beneath him. He dangles Michal's finger in front of your face, almost like to hypnotize you.

"Open.” Ville sternly demanded. Your mouth unable to close on him, he suddenly shoved it down your throat. You try to pull away from him, but his boot had you under his control.

"What's wrong baby? Ville asked in a mocking tone. You thought I was going to let you get off easy after the shit you pulled in there? Clearly you don’t know me as well as you thought.” He continued, your mind was spinning.

You wanted to vomit before this entire thing even started, so you did. Ville let go as the Michal’s finger dropped to the floor in front of you as you laid face down on the gravel in your own mess.

“I’m not fucking done with you Y/N.” Ville’s words flowed in and out of your ears, not being able to focus on him as you became a lifeless husk of a person. Ville got his switchblade out once again, this time he wanted a little more out of you. He began to carve his initials, VV, into your back in a small print. You winced at this but felt defeat, there was nothing he couldn’t do to you anyways. It felt pointless to even ask him to slow down, you knew he never answered to anyone and did things on his own terms, always. No matter what.

You felt your neck being grabbed by Ville’s strong hands, as he lifted you up against the wall to be straddling him.

“You didn’t cum yet baby. Are you ready?” Ville smiled at you as he knew you weren’t going to give an answer.

He began fucking into you roughly while your legs wrapped around him in a desperate cling. At least you weren’t on the floor any longer, you thought. Your brain was mashed together, and you were fading in and out of consciousness as he fucked your soft pussy until you broke down.

“I’ve never met anyone who was such a slut for my cock like you. It seems you’d do anything for me as long as you can get some attention. And it looks like it worked Y/N. See how fucking worked up I am?” Ville groaned while he whispered in your ear.

"I’ll be your slut any day you want. I promise. Just touch me, I’m begging you.” You whined as he pounded into you sloppily, you could feel him twitching and reaching his climax. You felt a sense of pride at the fact even Ville Valo couldn’t pretend not to enjoy your own taunts at him.

“Fuck baby, I feel like I’m gonna cum. You feel so fucking good Y/N…” He closed his eyes and chased his own high. He was just using your body for his own enjoyment, but you got off on knowing your body affected his.

Your legs began to shake as Ville grabbed your hip with one hand and began to rub your clit with the other. He always knew how to touch you.

“Ah shit, Ville, I’m gonna cum. I need to cum.” You begged.

“Hold it. You don’t need anything.” Ville sternly said. He didn’t do anything to help you hold it in, if anything he started fucking you faster and harder as you watched him lose himself inside of you. You opened your eyes to find that Ville was rolling his eyes while he was sloppily fucking you and that didn’t help you hold your orgasm any better. You were on the verge of losing this game.

Ville placed sloppy kisses to your tits, and then he traveled up your neck as he continued giving you hickeys. His lips met yours and he gave you sloppy kisses.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m cumming. Cum on my fucking cock right now baby. Fuck.” Ville’s words gave you the signal to release your own orgasm, and he spilled inside of you while you screamed out in pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me. Aren’t you baby?” Ville replied softly as he continued fucking you past your orgasm. He continued rubbing your clit and hitting your sweet spot as you groaned out his name and bit into his shoulder to suppress your moans. Your eyes started to roll back as you were being overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Y-yes Ville… I’m your good fucking slut. I love you. You feel so good.” You moaned out as you lost the ability to speak with any respect towards yourself.

Ville scoffed at your desperate reply. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's go home and get you cleaned up." He said before carrying you bridal style back to your hotel.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Hands to Yourself

| this drabble contains sexual content ;) |

When Coriolanus Snow hears his girlfriend let out a tired sigh when she sits down next to him on the sofa, he can’t help but grin at himself.

Soarynn sighs as if she’s entirely and utterly exhausted.

And it makes him wonder what could possibly make her so tired?

It’s adorable really, how shopping and dining with her girlfriends manages to tucker her out within a matter of hours whereas Coriolanus spends hours upon hours holed up in his office to put bread on the table.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Coriolanus has worked tirelessly to ensure that the only problem Soarynn ever has, is deciding how she’s going to spend his money.

She’s dressed comfortably for a night in, wearing a matching set of pajamas, silky pants, and a silky button-up shirt. Her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail with some stray pieces framing her face.

She looks so effortlessly beautiful.

He wishes he could just keep her in his pocket all the time.

“What’s troubling you darling?” He asks, folding the newspaper in his hands. He got home two hours ago and they’ve spent those two hours having dinner and winding down after a long week. Tomorrow is Saturday and Soarynn got them tickets for the ballet.

Soarynn sighs and waves him off, “Nothing. I’m just tired is all.”

Coriolanus can’t help but feel a bit cheeky and as much as he denies it, he loves to tease Soarynn, to push her buttons and make her scowl.

“What did you do today to warrant this lack of energy?” He asks her, crossing one leg over the other while leaning back into the sofa cushions, “Was it the tea with Persephone, or buying a whole new outfit for the ballet tomorrow that’s truly sent you over the edge?”

If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man.

Soarynn glares over at him and pulls her knees to her chest, putting more distance between them which is something they both know he hates. Coriolanus doesn’t see any reason for them to ever be more than three inches apart. Especially when they’re alone.

“I got my period thank you very much,” she snaps, causing his smile to drop. A woman on her period is a force to be reckoned with, especially Soarynn.

Not that she gets unnecessarily snippy with him but her patience does tend to run shorter when it’s that time of the month for her. Coriolanus has learned to approach her with snacks and kisses to help the week pass by quickly.

He scoots a bit closer to her, forcing her against the arm of the couch, “So I still haven’t gotten you pregnant then?” Soarynn scowls at him and jabs his ribs with her elbow for good measure, “You’re not funny you know that right? I’m bleeding out and you’re cracking jokes.”

Coriolanus chuckles and slips an arm around her waist, his fingers slipping under her shirt and pressing against her bare skin, “You know I’m funny, and you know that I’d cut off my hand before I let you bleed out yes?”

He’s got her there. Coriolanus Snow is many things but he’s not a negligent boyfriend. Should Soarynn need something, she’ll get it within seconds. A foot rub, a back massage, some kisses or chocolates.

Soarynn doesn’t look him in the eye but he can still see the resolve, she knows he’s right. “I suppose this week is always a test of inner strength for you,” she says, “since you can’t really touch me for a week.”

Coriolanus frowns because those are words that are not technically true. He can touch Soarynn while she’s on her period, in fact, he can do everything he does to her normally if she’d only let him. He’s offered it before, going down on her or fucking her while on her period but she’s always shied away from such suggestions, claiming it would be too messy and gross.

As if he could ever find his darling girlfriend gross.

His hand slides up to cup her breast and she whimpers, she’s always so much more sensitive during this time of the month. “The offer still stands,” he whispers, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear. He enjoys how Soarynn shivers despite her claims of not wanting to be intimate during this week. She’s as bad as he is when it comes to holding back from primal urges.

Soarynn shakes her head but doesn’t pull away from the physical contact, “No, I…it’s too much, you’d think it was gross.” Coriolanus wants to point out that he’s swallowed her spit almost every day and don’t even get him started on how many times they’ve finished each other off with their mouths.

Soarynn and her cunt taste delicious as far as he’s concerned.

He kisses her neck, “You could never be gross my darling girl, not to me. And how do you know if you’ve never tried it?” He’s got her there and she knows it.

He watches her face carefully while she mulls over the possibilities and he can see her slowly giving in. “Besides, I’ve heard that an orgasm can help relieve cramps,” he adds which is really a shot in the dark.

Soarynn bites her lip and Coriolanus watches with anticipation as she finally comes to a decision, “Alright,” she murmurs, “but in the shower.”

That’s the best offer he’s ever going to get from Soarynn and he’s quick to pepper her face with kisses, smiling at her giggles and squeals, “Coryo! Coryo calm down,” she shrieks while tilting her neck to give him better access. Coriolanus latches his lips to her sensitive skin and sucks hard, leaving behind a bruise, “It’s hard to calm down when you’re usually so keen on keeping me at arm's length darling,” he mumbles, his other hand slipping under her shirt to grab her other breast.

Her reaction is instant as it always is, she’s always been so sensitive to him.

Soarynn moans and Coriolanus presses his lips against hers, groaning when she grinds her body against his. “The shower,” she mumbles against his lips, reminding him of their little promise. Coriolanus nods, his hands sliding down to squeeze her waist, “The shower,” he repeats.

He’s never been so excited to shower in his life.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus is more than smug as he looks down at his girlfriend lying next to him in bed, wrapped in soft pajamas with a blissed-out look on her face.

Fucking Soarynn on her period had been everything he expected it to be which was the exact fucking same as it is when she’s not on her period.

She had been so worried about the blood but he hardly noticed it, he was too busy fucking her to pay attention to a little bit of blood. The way she talked about it, he expected gallons and gallons of it.

But if anything she just felt a little more wet than normal which was more than fine for him.

He’d given her three orgasms before she could barely stand up anymore, then he washed her down and showered her with words of praise and loving touches. Soarynn’s always had a sensitive heart but he’s found it to be extra sensitive during this particular week. So he always makes sure to take extra good care of it.

He gently brushes his fingers through her soft blonde hair, smiling when her eyes flutter open, “Did I wear you out tonight?” He asks, all too smug and proud of himself. Soarynn squints up at him while stretching her legs, so soft and smooth, “I will neither confirm nor deny such things.”

He definitely wore her out tonight.

Coriolanus shrugs and makes himself more comfortable sitting against their headboard, “Don’t worry darling, we both know you could barely stand by the third round.”

Soarynn scoffs and rolls over to her side, her back now facing him, “Tonight just proved that you can’t even go a week,” she says, her voice muffled by the sheets.

Coriolanus quirks a curious brow, “A week without what?”

Soarynn sits up, her blonde hair tumbling down her shoulders, “A week without fucking me, or touching me for that matter.” She smirks when she sees the dumbfounded look on his face and Coriolanus tries to find anything wrong with what she just said, what’s wrong with constantly wanting to be physical with her?

“Well…well you’re just so alluring,” he says earning a laugh from Soarynn, “I can’t help myself darling you’re simply too irresistible.”

A mischievous look crawls across Soarynn’s face and Coriolanus can’t help but feel a bit nervous, Soarynn’s always been a good girl, a rule follower, but she’s got this little evil side to her that scares the shit out of him.

And it always seems to come out around this time of the month.

“Do you wanna bet on it?”

He blinks once at her question, then twice, “Bet on it,” he repeats, wondering where this version of his girlfriend has been hiding for so long. Soarynn nods, batting her eyelashes while her hand finds his thigh, sliding further and further up, “Mhm. We can see who can go longer without touching the other person, see who’s really the touchy one in this relationship.”

Maybe it’s because her hand is so close to his cock straining in his boxers or it’s the fact that Coriolanus Snow loves a challenge and loves to win but he finds himself nodding to her little proposition without a second thought.

“Alright,” he agrees, “and what does the winner get?”

He ought to know his reward for when he wins this silly little bet.

Soarynn gives him that sweet smile that has anything but good intentions behind it, “If you win then you can do whatever you want to me.”

Well, now he has to win.

His throat bobs a little but he can’t back down now, “You have yourself a deal darling.”

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Two Weeks Later ꧂

“You two are still doing that bet?”

Coriolanus nods at Festus and his question while watching Soarynn from across the room. They’re attending a company auction and Soarynn looks exquisite in her blood-red dress tonight.

“I have to win,” he says, more to himself than to Festus. It’s been a mantra constantly repeating in his head since he agreed to this stupid bet that’s slowly becoming the bane of his existence.

At first, it was easy.

Soarynn had laid out the rules plain and simple, they could kiss, but only small pecks. They could hug but not for too long, not long enough for something to start between them. They could cuddle but only when drifting off to sleep.

The second one of them made a move on the other, the bet was off and he—as she predicted—would be a sore loser.

The first week wasn’t too bad since he was used to not being as touchy as he usually was since she was still on her period. He showered her with chocolates and sweet cards, making sure she was comfortable.

This week has been harder.

Soarynn Nightingale is a very predictable creature and Coriolanus knows that the week after her period, she’s as horny as can be. She clearly didn’t plan for that when she came up with her little bet, something she thought would punish him and only him but she’s been making it very hard to keep his hands to himself.

Monday night he came home to her walking around completely naked. He nearly jumped her right then and there but he held back. He had to win.

Tuesday was especially hard in the morning when that little vixen did a fucking strip tease right before he went to work, leaving him with a hard and pressing problem.

Wednesday was when hell almost broke loose. Coriolanus had managed to make it through dinner even though Soarynn was eye fucking him from across the table the entire time. It was clear that she was just as pent up as he was, but she wanted to win too.

It was when he heard her moans coming from the bathroom that he almost called it off. He had peered through the cracked doors leading to their bathroom to find Soarynn in the bathtub, head thrown back in pleasure while she did who knows what in there.

To see his own girl getting off using something that wasn’t him went against everything Coriolanus stood for.

Soarynn deserved to feel the utmost sexual pleasure, preferably provided by him, not her fingers or the bath faucet.

Thursday proved to be difficult when he suggested that they watch a film so Soarynn decided to sit on his lap. Which was completely normal except for her ass was right on top of his growing boner and she had the audacity to act all innocent.

Tonight thankfully they were in public so she couldn’t pull any of her little stunts. “You two are crazy,” Festus says while shaking his head, “Persephone and I wouldn’t last three days.”

We barely have, Coriolanus thinks to himself. These two past weeks have been sheer torture and what scares him the most is that they have the potential to go months without touching should both of them keep this up.

And he can’t have that.

He’s going to have to take drastic measures.

“Excuse me,” he says to Festus before grabbing two glasses of champagne from the table next to them and making his way over to Soarynn who’s talking with her friends Persephone and Livia. All three women giggle as he approaches him and he can only guess why, “Oh Coryo, you’re looking so pent up, has work been extra hard this week?” Livia asks, teasing so evident in her tone.

He flashes her his best Capitol smile and nods, “Yes Livia, this week has proven to be full of challenges but thank you so much for your concern.”

He hands Soarynn a glass of champagne, noticing the smirk she’s wearing, “For you darling. Since you’ve been so parched this week.”

Her smirk slightly falters but she recovers smoothly and takes the glass from him, bringing it to her red-colored lips and taking a long sip, her eyes never breaking away from his gaze once. She finally swallows and her lips have left an imprint on the rim of the glass, “Thank you Coryo, it’s been a while since I’ve swallowed something so thick.”

Well fuck.

Coriolanus nearly chokes on his own spit all while her little friends are sniggering. Fine, fine, let them laugh, he’ll have the last laugh.

꧁ ꧂

The auction dinner is going by painfully slowly. If it weren’t for his beautiful girlfriend next to him, Coriolanus would be bored out of his mind.

Everyone is bored out of their minds while one of the owners of the company he works for drones on and on about how diligence and work ethic make a business as successful as this one. Which is all fine and dandy but Coriolanus is so fucking horny that he can barely think straight.

It doesn’t help that Soarynn is so intoxicating while she listens, mindlessly twirling her blonde hair around her finger the same way she’s got him wrapped around her other finger.

Oh fingers, he misses using his fingers on her, listening to her gasp and moan and whine and beg.

And her other hand that’s planted on his knee is not helping. He knows that she means well, that she only ever touches him there when he starts to get impatient and bounces his leg up and down until the table starts to shake.

But only a few inches above his knee is another area that would greatly appreciate her hand's attention. Too bad he can’t manspread right now and really show her what she’s missing.

The owner finally wraps this snooze fest up with a few inspiring quotes and then some, leading everyone to stand and raise their glasses. “To the future,” they all say and Coriolanus finds a completely different meaning in those words.

To a future where we can fuck every single day until we die, he thinks to himself as they all sit back down. Soarynn is oblivious to his internal battle as she begins chatting with her friends again, practically ignoring him.

Thankfully the first course is brought out so he can at least enjoy his food, but he’s still starving for something else.

“So what have you two been up to?” Persephone asks, eyeing Coriolanus and Soarynn with an amused look. Festus covers his laugh with a half-assed cough while Coriolanus scoffs and stabs at his food, “We’ve been up to absolutely nothing,” he grumbles, not caring if he sounds like he’s pouting.

Soarynn hums, taking a sip of her drink, “Yes, we’ve been on a path of self-discovery the last few weeks, haven’t we darling?”

You’re about to discover how hard I can fuck when this is all over, he thinks to himself before nodding and giving her hand a squeeze, “Yes darling, although I do love discovering you more than myself.”

Those words do enough to cause Soarynn to nearly choke on her drink and he’s the first one to offer her a napkin and a smug look on his face, “Be careful darling, heaven knows how long it’s been since you’ve choked on something you can’t swallow.”

Soarynn glares at him but Coriolanus basks in his small victory.

The last few weeks have been a battle of wits and words it seems, every jab having a double meaning that screams: ‘fuck me before I lose my mind!’

But neither of them is willing to give up victory, even if it costs a small bit of their sanity.

And it seems to be quite the entertaining experience for their friends who eagerly watch the pent-up couple go back and forth with their witty replies, “I dare say they’ve reached their limits,” Festus muses with a grin on his lips. Persephone nods, looking Coriolanus up and down, “Yes, it seems our dear Coryo finally didn’t land on top for once.”

Soarynn looks all too smug and he honestly can’t believe that his own friends are ganging up on him!

“Oh I intend to land on top,” he tells them, earning him a curious look from his girlfriend, “just you wait.”

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus runs his fingers through his curls absentmindedly while watching Soarynn get undressed.

It used to be that he would be the one undressing her after a night like tonight, but once again, his hands are tied.

So now he has to watch. Miserably at that.

She just looks so regal, so beautiful and angelic as she slips off her shoes, leaving her only in her panties and her bralette now. She throws him a smirk when she catches him watching and flips her hair over her shoulder, “Like what you see Coryo?”

He can’t help but nod. She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.

She turns to fully face him, giving Coriolanus a great view of what he’s been missing out on these past few weeks. Her toned abdomen, her full breasts, her perky little ass. He might just kill himself.

“Well you know what you have to do to get it,” she purrs, slowly walking up to him. Coriolanus can’t do anything but sit there and watch as Soarynn slowly sinks onto his lap, straddling him in the armchair.

Her hands graze his shoulders and she hums to herself, “You’re so close to giving in Coryo,” she murmurs, her breath leaving a trail of goosebumps down his neck, “just give in to me, you know you want to.”

Coriolanus can feel his resolve breaking, his mission becoming jeopardized. He can’t lose.

He quickly shoves her hands off of him and stands up, causing Soarynn to nearly slip onto the floor had he not caught her, “I think that’s enough of that darling,” he decides, clearing his throat, “we ought to take a shower and get ready for bed.”

Soarynn looks anything but pleased with his restraint. She clearly planned on him failing her little test but Coriolanus Snow loves a challenge and he’s more than happy to make this miserable for her too. Because she’s just as horny as he is.

“You’ll break,” she mumbles, shuffling to the bathroom, “and then I’ll be the winner.”

Coriolanus smirks, “Keep telling yourself that.”

꧁ ꧂

The next three days are filled with deathly glares from Soarynn and for good reason too.

He’s been working late.

Which she already hates with or without their little challenge. She’s always hated it when Coriolanus has turned up late after work but now she knows he’s doing it on purpose, doing it to rile her up and it’s working.

The first time had truly been an accident, Coriolanus ended up losing track of time on a project and got home around eight to find Soarynn perched on the sofa, arms crossed and chin turned away from him.

He apologized but he also took notes.

His absence clearly took a toll on her, so that’s how he’d win this thing.

The next few nights he did the same thing, showing up later and later until he sprung the news of a surprise work trip on her.

“You what?” She asks, her eyes wide in disbelief as they get ready for bed. Coriolanus sighs and shoots her a look, “I’m only going to be gone for two days darling, it’s business.”

Soarynn scoffs and throws her pillow onto the bed, “It’s last minute is what it is. And you know how I feel about last-minute plans.”

Petunia hops onto the bed, her tail held high and mighty while watching her humans fight, they’ve been doing a lot of that lately, fighting.

It’s all a part of his master plan.

Normally they’d come to the conclusion that it’s been a minute since they did anything intimate and the problem would be solved then and there. But they can’t solve the problem if they’ve sworn off the solution and it’s slowly making itself apparent to Soarynn who glares at him from across the bed.

“I can’t do anything about it, darling, unless you’d like to stop living this lavish lifestyle you seem so fond of,” he says, smiling at the last few words.

If Soarynn were a cat, she’d be hissing at him right now.

“You are getting on my last nerve Coriolanus Snow,” she grits out, jabbing a finger in his general direction, “but go ahead, go on your little business trip, see how it feels to wake up to an empty bed.”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows in amusement, “But you’d also be waking up to an empty bed wouldn’t you darling? So it appears that once again, we’re evenly matched.”

They’re both at a standstill it seems but that’s fine with him, they can fix it when he gets back and she’s on her knees begging for him.

꧁ ꧂

꧁ Two Days Later꧂

The sound of Festus Creed letting out an exaggerated groan as they descend from the train causes Coriolanus to roll his eyes, “You act as if we weren’t in first class,” he says to his friend who merely shrugs, “It’s been ages since I rode on a train Coryo. Thank goodness the company paid for our tickets.”

Coriolanus nods, the company paid for everything they did on this trip, room and board, the train tickets, and of course, fine dining.

They’d only gone to District One to see a few of their factories, make sure everything and everyone was in order. They stayed in the only resort District One had, making the travel arrangements much easier.

The days flew by quickly but Coriolanus found himself missing Soarynn more and more each day. Not just her body, but her voice, her laugh, her soft blonde hair, and her dazzling gray-blue eyes.

He knows she’s missed him.

They spoke on the phone last night, briefly before began packing up and he could just hear how needy she was. There’s always been a slight tell in her voice whenever she’s gotten to the point of no return. There certain breathiness to her voice, almost as if she’s whining. Begging is a better term for it.

Coriolanus is quick to bid Festus and his other colleagues goodbye before searching for his car in front of the station. He spots it easily and is greeted by his driver who gladly takes his bags and puts them in the trunk.

Coriolanus relaxes into the leather seats of his car, checking his watch to see that everything seems to be going along schedule. He’ll get home just before eight o’clock, just like he promised to Soarynn last night.

She had sounded so goddamn needy on the phone last need, whispering and mumbling about how much she missed him. Coriolanus knew she'd break eventually, that she'd realize how much she missed him, he just needed this trip to get her to that desperate point.

Soarynn can be feisty when she wants, but she can also be so fucking needy and he's learned to love both sides of her, knowing how to play each to his advantage.

By the time his car pulled up to their apartment building, he's already thinking about all the positions he's going to put her in.

He takes his bag from the driver, thanking him before making his way into the building lobby where he's greeted by the doorman and the security officer. Both men make leaving Soarynn behind a little bit easier for Coriolanus who constantly worries for his girlfriend's safety when he's not around.

"Welcome back Mr. Snow."

Coriolanus flashes the doorman a blinding smile, "Thank you, it's good to be back."

Indeed it is.

Coriolanus taps his foot while the elevator takes him up to the top floor, humming a tune Soarynn likes to sing in the shower, something about willows and meadows. It sounds so pretty when she sings it.

He's nearly shaking with anticipation as he fishes his keys from his coat pocket, sliding them into the door, and listening to the familiar click of the lock turning.

Coriolanus quietly opens the doors, peering into the dark penthouse. It seems as if no one is home. He steps inside, closing the doors behind him before setting down his suitcase and shrugging off his coat, "Darling, I'm ho-"

He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before he's attacked by a smaller body, the scent of vanilla hits his nostrils like a train and he groans when he feels Soarynn's hands on his shoulders. It's dark but he can still make out the silhouette of his girlfriend and the black lingerie she's chosen to wear tonight.

She's got this feral look in her eyes.

"I need you," she whispers, pressing her body flush against his. Coriolanus groans when she reaches down to cup his covered cock, her fingers already working their magic, "Are you giving up then? Do I win?"

Soarynn scoffs and drops her hand, looking him up and down, "You still care about this stupid bet?" Coriolanus grabs her chin with his fingers, tilting her head back to look him in the eye, "I care about winning my love, so just say the magic words and I'll fuck you until you can't walk anymore."

His words go straight to her core and he smirks when he sees Soarynn pressing her thighs together.

He can see Soarynn trying to stay strong, but she's also growing weaker as the seconds pass and he's got her right where he wants her.

Soarynn lets out a frustrated sound, so similar to the sound Petunia makes when she doesn't get her way. "Fine," she huffs, "you win Coryo."

That's all he needs to hear.

He's on her in seconds. His hands are in her hair while his lips crash onto hers. A whole month of not truly getting to touch Soarynn has been pure torture and he's ready to make up for it tenfold. Soarynn moans into the kiss while her fingers work on his button-up shirt, fumbling to get it off of him.

"Fuck me," she whispers agasint his lips, "please fuck me."

Well how can he say no to that?

Coriolanus crouches down to pick her up, smiling when she squeals and wraps her legs around his torso, her fingers carding through his golden curls while he stumbles towards the bedroom.

His palms grip her flesh, feeling how good it is to have her back in his hands once again. The lacy black thong she's wearing makes her even more enticing. Coriolanus pushes his way into their bedroom and doesn't waste a moment dropping Soarynn onto the bed. She gasps and sits up on her elbows, watching as he gets undressed. Coriolanus has never gotten naked so fast in his life.

He's kicking off his pants and ripping off his shirt, jumping on top of Soarynn the second his clothes are off. Soarynn moans into the kiss while their bodies grind against one another, making up for lost time.

"Please," she whimpers when his lips move down to her neck, "please Coryo I need you."

Normally Coriolanus would tease her, kiss up and down her body then eat her out to get her nice and wet but one swipe between her legs tells him that she's more than ready for him.

Coriolanus tugs his boxers down and flips Soarynn onto her stomach, "Ass up darling, you know what to do." Soarynn doesn't even give him any sass, she just arches her back giving him a perfect view of her barely covered cunt. "You little tease," he mumbles, slapping her ass, "made the past month so fucking difficult for me huh? Thought you could just prance around here without any consequences."

Soarynn whines, wiggling her hips side to side and Coriolanus is quick to land another slap to her ass, watching how red it turns, "Such a slut for me, even when you say you're not. Your cunt always tells me how you really feel."

Soarynn lifts her face from the mattress and shoots him a look from over her shoulder, "Just fuck me!"

Coriolanus rips her panties off in seconds, throwing them onto the floor and soaking up the gorgeous view of Soarynn's cunt. So pink and wet, and all for him. "Oh how I've missed this," he murmurs, thumbing at her entrance and listening to her whine, "Please," she begs, "please, please, please."

His girl is so polite when she's begging to be fucked like the whore she is.

Coriolanus takes his cock in his other hand, stroking it a few times until it's at its fully hardened length and he slowly pushes into her cunt, both of them moaning so loudly at the intrusion.

His eyes roll back and his knees nearly buckle when he feels her tight walls wrapped around him once again.

Heaven on earth really.

Coriolanus grabs her hips and immediately starts pounding into her, listening to the sounds she makes, the moans, the gasps, the whines, and how wet her cunt is.

"Fucking missed this," he groans, watching his cock go in and out of her cunt, watching how she takes him over and over again like she should.

Soarynn's moans echo throughout their bedroom, his name leaves her lips like a prayer, "Right there," she moans, arching her back even more, "right there Coryo, please don't stop." He'd usually oblige to her request but after a month of what she's put him through, he's in the mood for some teasing.

He grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her up until her back is flush with his chest, providing him with an entirely new angle to fuck her in. Both of them moan and his other hand slides down to her lower abdomen where he can feel the smallest bulge from his cock, "You miss me?" He asks, his voice husky and deep. Soarynn opens her mouth to speak but fails to find any words, only moans.

He smirks, "Looks like you did angel, tell me, when you were touching yourself in the bathtub, was it me you thought of? Or something else?" Coriolanus fucks her at a steady yet punishing pace, his hips slamming into her again and again. "I thought of you," Soarynn gasps, her nails digging into his thighs, "thought about...about you fucking me, and fingering me."

Coriolanus tilts his head and adopts a taunting tone, "Thought about being stuck on my cock where you belong? Because you've clearly been off of it for way too long, your attitude has gotten completely out of control these past few weeks."

Soarynn whimpers when his hand presses down on her lower stomach, making her feel every thrust, "Who owns this cunt Soarynn?"

"You," she moans, her walls fluttering around him, a sign that she's about to reach her first orgasm, "you own it."

He nods, pleased to see she hasn't forgotten, "Good girl, now cum for me, be my good girl, and cum for me Soarynn." It only takes a few more seconds until she's falling apart on his cock, her cum making it that much easier for him to fuck her. Coriolanus doesn't slow down at all, in fact, he picks up the pace, going harder and faster. "I take it you want more than one round?" He muses, letting go of her hair and pushing her back onto the bed.

Soarynn gasps and her hands claw at the sheets, the pleasure already overwhelming her after only one orgasm, "Yes please."

Perfect, he was planning on fucking her either way.

Coriolanus can feel himself reaching his first orgasm and he doesn't hold back when he finally does, coating her walls with his cum, and watching it drip down from her cunt, "You look so perfect like this," he tells her, "dumb on my cock, just taking it like you should. Do you like it, angel? Do you like being stuck on my cock like the little slut you are?"

Soarynn's always gone weak in the knees at dirty talk and tonight is no exception. "Yes," she moans, "yes I love it, love being stuck on your cock." She's such a good girl for him.

He just hopes she's ready for at least five more rounds.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is so beautiful.

Coriolanus watches her sleep, her face pressed against his bare chest, her naked body somewhat covered by their bedsheets while he drags his hand up and down her side, feeling how warm her skin is.

Her breathing is slow and measured, a stark comparison to how it was half an hour ago when they finally stopped fucking. She's going to be so sore tomorrow.

Soarynn mumbles something when he stops stroking her side and he chuckles, "So needy and demanding." Soarynn cracks an eye open, looking up at him, "You love it though," she says, her voice half slurred from sleep. Coriolanus nods, resuming his duty of stroking her side, "That I do."

They still have to clean up, shower, and get dressed, and he has to unpack his suitcase that they left in the hallway. But he wanted to let Soarynn rest, aftercare is just as important as everything else to him. The first few times they had sex she was so emotional after, shedding a few tears while whimpering that she never wanted him to leave her.

Funny how that girl later suggested that they start a little bet to see who could go longer without fucking the other person.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Soarynn shakes her head, nuzzling further into his chest, "I ate before you got home."

He hums, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against her skin, "I wasn't too rough with you, right? Nothing hurts?" Soarynn smiles and her hand reaches up to cup his face, her eyes still closed, "You could never hurt me Coryo."

Well isn't she just the sweetest little thing?

He presses a soft kiss to the palm of her hand and sighs, "That doesn't mean accidents can't happen my darling, so I need you to tell me if I ever do something to hurt you or that makes you uncomfortable, okay?"

Coriolanus knows one thing for certain, he'd never forgive himself if he hurt Soarynn during sex. Never.

Sure he likes to be rough and at times, degrading, but aggressive and hurtful is just unacceptable. He can't imagine ever wanting to hurt Soarynn on purpose, to see her looking at him fearfully. He'd rather die.

"Okay," she whispers, her body relaxing once again meaning she's about to fall asleep.

"Why don't we shower hmm? Then you can go to sleep."

This isn't what she wants to hear but Coriolanus is desperate to shower the day off of him, with or without Soarynn at this point. "I suppose," she says with a yawn, slowly stretching out before sitting up. She looks so gorgeous like this, with tangled hair, skin covered in love bites, and that hazy look in her eyes that she always has after they have sex.

"How was your trip by the way?"

Coriolanus shrugs, flexing his shoulders, "Quite dull, but that's to be expected from District factories. I missed you though." Her face softens and she doesn't hesitate to crawl back on top of him straddling him and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. Both of them move in sync, his hand wrapping around her waist while her hand rests on the back of his neck, "I missed you too," she whispers, her teeth gently tugging on his bottom lip, "I've missed you a lot lately."

Boy does he understand that. Even though they've been together this whole month, the bet has made it feel as if they've been oceans apart. Not touching your significant other can do wonders to the brain.

"Then lets never be apart again," he says, earning him a soft giggle from Soarynn who kisses him back so sweetly. "Okay," she agrees, "no more bets."

Music to his ears.

Coriolanus much prefers a relationship where he doesn't have to keep his hands to himself.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[loislanecoree]

The Hate Formula

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Living in the same building, across from each other shouldn't be much of a problem, right? But how come you and Joe tend to always push each other's buttons every day? Is it because you both truly just hated each other or is it because there was something more to it?

Author's Note: I wanted to upload this to make up for the lost time that's probably going to happen for the next few weeks. If you haven't read it yet, please read my announcement here. Anyway, are you all ready for this? Things are going to start escalating.

Disclaimer: 18+

Wordcount: 3.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

Your dress looked nice.

You fixed the thin straps of your dress as you exhaled a sharp breath and stared at yourself in the mirror. You have been dreading to do this dinner, but you kept telling yourself that you were a good friend. Sara also had a point because you have known Wes several weeks before finding out the truth and in all honesty, you did really like him for Sara. It was your pride and ego that kept getting in the way. Besides, you didn’t want to disappoint Sara either. She seemed happy and deserved to be happy. So, if this was what it took to make her happy, then you would suck it up and be a grown up for once. You have owed her several times already for always causing trouble with Joe and the fact that you both were almost getting kicked out of the building. 

Technically, as per what Sara had told you, this wasn’t a “double date.” However, you didn’t really care about the title of whatever this was. You weren’t in the mood to spend your whole Saturday night with Joe. Sure, Wes and Sara would be there, but they were a couple. You knew they were going to end up doing things on their own, and you would be left alone with Joe. Joe, who would tease you and probably make fun of you all night. 

This was so agonizing for you just thinking about it. 

“Hi.” Your thoughts were interrupted when Sara knocked on your door. 

She peeked her head behind your door as you looked over your shoulder and gestured for her to come in. She entered your room, and your eyes instantly widened as you saw the pale blue dress she was wearing. Her hair was in waves, and she had some cute pins at the back of her head. 

She looked amazing. 

“Aw, Sara!” You pouted. “You look so beautiful. Wes is going to be on his knees tonight for you.”

Sara chuckled softly, looking down at her dress before gazing back up at you. 

“You also looked really pretty.” She stood behind you as you both looked at yourselves in the mirror. 

“Thank you for doing this.” Sara added.

She wrapped her arms around your shoulders as she hugged you from behind. You chuckled softly as you felt her squeezed you gently. 

“Alright, alright.” You rolled your eyes as she parted away from you. “You don’t have to be all sappy about this.”

“Well, it’s true. I know this is hard for you.” 

“I’m doing this for you.” You grabbed your coat from your closet. “I hope you know that.”

Sara grinned at you, nodding her head. For her, it was enough that you were actually trying to give this a chance. 

“You like Wes for me.” Sara murmured under her breath as you both walked out of your bedroom. “Stop denying that.” 

“We’ll see.” You shrugged, slipping on your coat. 

Sara chuckled softly at the denial expression on your face. Following behind Sara out the door, you found the two men waiting for the both of you in the hall. Joe was wearing his fancy button up and trousers outfit. The one thing that stuck out most for you was his new haircut. 

His head was buzzed. 

All the brown curls, gone.

It made his features more prominent. His chocolate button eyes were bigger, and his cheekbones were a lot sharper.

He looked sort of… more beautiful.

However, you couldn't help but notice how Joe was trying hard not to look at you. Focusing your attention back to Sara, you watched as Wes whispered something in her ear that made her face flushed red before planting a soft kiss on her lips. 

You could already feel the thick air between you and Joe as the four of you stood inside the elevator. Once the four of you exited out of the building, you could feel the New York summer air combined with the tension between you and Joe. 

“Are we all up for Italian tonight?” Wes looked over his shoulder. 

You and Joe didn’t say a word as you both just nodded your heads in agreement. You saw Sara looked over her shoulder and gave you another thankful smile. You knew she was grateful for you to be doing this, but you honestly didn’t know what her plan was. There was no way you and Joe were going to get along with just one night of spending time together. You both barely even spoke a word to each other since you all left the apartment building. 

What made it worse was when you had found yourself sitting in the middle of the backseat of the cab. You were squeezed in between Sara and Joe, and you could see how Joe was trying hard to focus his attention out the window. His usual yappy self was quiet tonight, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good thing or not. Was he quiet because he didn’t want to cause trouble or because he was feeling the same dread as you? 

Upon arriving at the restaurant, you knew Wes and Sara were starting to feel the tension between you and Joe, so Wes had walked ahead with Joe on the sidewalk, while Sara had locked her arms with yours. 

“How are you holding up?” Sara asked. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing she was trying to make sure you were okay. Surprisingly, you were. Joe hasn’t said a word, so you were fine. You didn’t really feel anything else besides maybe a little hungry. 

“Thanks for doing this again.” Sara added. 

“Stop thanking me.” You chuckled softly. “The night had barely started.”

“Yeah, but still.” Sara leaned in to you, grinning happily. 

As Wes greeted the server in the restaurant, you all followed her towards the table at the back. The restaurant was nice and cozy and without thinking clearly, you pulled out the chair that was next to Sara before you gazed up and locked eyes with Wes. Your eyes shifted to Sara and Joe, who was just staring at the both of you.

“Sorry.” You bit your lower lip.

“No, it’s okay.” Wes gave you a genuine smile and pulled the seat that was across from Sara.

“Wes, no. I’ll sit there.” You walked over and grabbed the back of the chair from him. “Sit next to Sara. It’s okay.” 

Wes gave you a “are you sure?” look before you nodded your head and gave him a reassuring smile. Pulling the chair next to Joe, you moved a bit further from him as you cleared your throat. Taking the menu that was sitting in front of you, you studied it and let your attention focus on the options. 

Then, you suddenly heard a soft chuckle next to you. You slowly turned your head towards Joe and saw him reading the menu, while shaking his head. A small smile was tugging on his lips as you furrowed your brows at him. 

There was no way he was already starting this shit with you. 

“What’s so funny?” You asked, your voice was low to make sure Wes and Sara didn’t hear it. 

“You act like I’m going to hurt you or something if you sit close to me.” Joe leaned in, whispering to you. 

You leaned back and stared at him, “Hm… You’ll never know. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.” 

Joe laughed softly, leaning close to you again. “And yet, you sat close to me in the front lobby two weeks ago.” 

You could feel the blood rushed to your cheeks as you remembered that moment with him again that night. It had been a while since you thought about it and suddenly, the memories of that night and the look on his face had re-appeared in your mind. It was the same look he was giving you right now, and you felt your limbs froze for a moment. You stared at Joe, eyes blinking before finally snapping back into reality. You cleared your throat and looked away, focusing your attention back on the menu. 

“Did you guys wanna go to this light show at Central Park after?” Sara asked later that night after the server had taken your orders. 

You took a sip of your wine and studied the group. “If you guys want to, I don’t mind.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Joe replied. 

“My office mate told me it’s really nice. They made it into this nice garden full of different light displays.”

“I think I saw them setting it up one time when I was coming home from work.” Wes said. 

You watched as Wes and Sara tried their best to interact and start conversations between the four of you because you and Joe would barely even interact or say anything. At one point, you listened to Joe yap about cooking and Italian food when Wes had brought up that this restaurant had one of the best pastas he tasted. 

“I didn’t know you cook, Joe.” Sara said. 

“Really well too.” Wes nodded his head proudly, giving Sara a smile. 

You played with the napkin that was sitting on your lap as you listened to the conversation. Your other hand was playing with the fork that was on your pasta. You didn’t know what it was, but you couldn’t seem to finish your food. It wasn’t like the pasta was bad or anything, you just keep having an unusual feeling in your stomach. 

Almost like… butterflies. 

It made you want to vomit.

“Oh, yea. Whenever I have time, it’s such good fun when I cook.” Joe grinned excitedly. 

You saw how something sparkled in Joe’s eyes when he talked about cooking for his family and friends. You never saw this side of him, and you kept wondering if this was one of the things that Sara was talking about. One of the things that you didn’t know about Joe.

Two years of knowing him, and you didn’t even know he liked to garden too as he started talking about the different kinds of herbs he has been planting. 

“I heard you have a new movie to film?” Sara asked. 

As you took a sip of your wine, you continued to listen to the conversation. Your eyes followed Joe’s hand that gently caressed his now buzzed hair. You couldn't help but wonder if it was for a role as to why he buzzed his head. 

“Yes, I just finished Warfare and about to film Fantastic Four, but I also have the second Gladiator movie to promote soon. I play the villain.”

You couldn’t help but snort, setting your wine glass down and wiping the wine that dripped from your chin. You felt the three of them turn their heads to you as you froze in your seat and gazed up at them. 

“Sorry.” You murmured. 

Joe cocked his head to the side and raised his brow at you. “Something funny about that?”

You raised your brows, eyes widening as you turned to Wes and Sara. You have been in your best behavior all night, and you didn’t want to ruin that. You didn’t want to ruin this night for your best friend. 

“N…No.” You replied, shaking your head. “I just thought it fits you perfectly.”

Joe’s eyes looked at you up and down before turning his attention back to your friends. You could tell that he was also trying to keep the peace at the table tonight. You gave Sara an apologetic look before hanging your head low and continued to play with your pasta. 

Central Park was a little busy later that night. The summer breeze was blowing nicely through your hair as you watched Wes intertwined his fingers with Sara. You and Joe were following behind them, while you gazed up at the sky. The city lights were flickering between the trees, and you kept your eyes anywhere else but Joe. As the night went on, you could tell that you and Joe were just doing this for your best friends, and you both barely didn’t even want to try and get along with each other. 

You kept wondering if you should actually try and talk to him, but you were too hesitant over it. You didn’t want to hear the stupid jokes that could come out of Joe’s lips. Wes and Sara were quick to ditch the both of you the moment you all arrived at the light show. You smiled slightly as you took photos of the displays. Big glowing flowers in the garden, string fairy lights hanging from the trees, and displays of fairies and cute animals lighting up the garden. 

You slipped your phone from your coat pocket and took pictures of the display as Joe quietly followed behind you. 

“Do you want me to take a photo of you?” Joe finally broke the silence. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw that he looked genuine and serious with his offer. You, on the other hand, didn’t believe it. 

“No, thanks.” You replied. “Knowing you, you have an agenda about everything.”

“That’s not true.” Joe uttered. 

You scoffed and turned around to face him and said, “I’m sure you would take my picture and end up having to capture something stupid like my head is cut off or you only took a picture of my shoes and then laugh at me.”

Joe’s brown eyes stared at you deeply as he took a step forward towards you. You remained in your position, your feet glued to the ground. 

“Is that what you think?” Joe asked, his brow raised.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I think!” You exclaimed, frustration starting to pulse in your veins. 

A comical smile tugged on Joe’s lips as he said, “It’s funny how you think I think about you all the time.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you listened to Joe’s words. It felt like a sharp knife was stabbed into your chest. Why did you expect him to even be nice for once? 

“Oh, don’t worry.” You scoffed. “I never thought about that. I know you’re busy trying to figure out which girl to bring home next and then make them cry after getting what you want.”

You couldn’t stand looking at him for one more second. Shaking your head, you gave Joe one more look before walking away from him. You found Sara and Wes not too far from you, taking pictures. You were ready to go home. You were ready for this stupid night to be over. 

“You don’t know anything.” Joe argued, making you stop in your tracks. 

“Oh, I think I know everything!” You said, turning around to face him with an angry look on your face. 

Joe stared at you, the same frustrated look washed over his face. You turned back around to find Wes and Sara, but they weren’t where they were before. Your eyes looked around the park and there was no sign of them. 

They were just right here! 

Where did they go? 

“Great!” You exclaimed sarcastically. 

“I think they left.” Joe murmured. 

“No, shit.” You shook your head and started walking down the trail towards the exit. 

“Where are you going?” Joe asked. 

“I’m going home. This was bullshit anyway.” You called out as you let your feet lead you out of the park.

What were you thinking? 

Why the hell did you even agree to this in the first place? Why the hell did you think you could give Joe a chance for once? Sara was wrong. He was the same idiot and asshole you knew this whole time. Maybe he was showing her a different side of him but with you, he was always going to be like this. 

You didn’t even realize how far your apartment building was, but you were angry and frustrated and the adrenaline was running through your blood. By the time you arrived at your apartment building, Joe was still following right behind you. It made you even more frustrated because he just couldn’t leave you alone. 

“Garrett?” You murmured. 

By the time you arrived at your doorstep, you found Garrett sitting on the floor. He looked like he had been waiting for you all night. Instantly, he got up from the floor and gave you a small smile when he saw you. 

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You smiled back at him. 

Suddenly, you felt Joe’s presence behind you as you saw Garrett’s green eyes shifted towards him. The smile on his face instantly faded. 

“Oh.” Garrett said. “Was this a bad time?”

“No—” You shook your head. 

“Actually, yea, mate. We’re on a date.” Joe cut you off as you turned to him with big, disbelief eyes. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Garrett said. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“No, wait—” You watched as Garrett gave you his apologetic eyes before walking away. 

You felt the anger now occupied your veins as your nostrils flared. You curled your hands into fists as you turned around slowly to look at Joe. He could see the anger sparking inside of you, but he kept still. He kept a neutral look on his face as your eyes darkened.

“What the fuck was that, Joe?!” You yelled. “Why the hell did you do that?!”

“That was him, wasn't it?” Joe asked. 

How was he this calm right now? How was he acting like what he just did was okay? 

“The one that made you cry a couple weeks ago?” He added. 

You shook your head in disbelief. Why the fuck did he care which guy made you cry? Why the fuck did he care at all? All he wanted to do was make your life miserable all the time. In fact, he shouldn’t be an actor since he does a pretty good job at making you miserable to the point where he should just get paid honestly. 

“That’s none of your business!” You barked.

You started processing the apology in your mind about what you were going to tell Sara later on. 

You tried.

You really tried tonight but there was no way you were going to get along with Joe at all. Walking towards your apartment, Joe slid himself between you and the door before you could unlock it. 

“Get out of my way!” You scowled, glaring at him. 

“You really think he could make you happy after he decided to choose someone else before?” Joe asked, his voice was soft. 

You stared at him with anger. You swore if you were in a cartoon, there would be smoke coming out of your nose and ears right now. 

“You don’t know what happened last time!” You argued. “How are you so miserable with your life that you tend to drag me in it all the time?”

Joe scoffed, his face inches from yours. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes! You hate me so much that it gives you joy to see me miserable all the time!”

Joe shook his head, scoffing at your comment. He slipped himself away from you and walked towards his apartment. 

What a coward. 

He couldn’t even admit it in front of you that what you just told him was the truth. He just chose to walk away from it. 

“This night was bullshit anyway. I gave you a chance because Sara asked me to but you know what I realized? We can’t even be friends because there’s just hate and anger running in my veins when it comes to you.” You barked, making Joe turn around to face you again. 

His brows were all knitted together, his lips looked like it was twitching from the frustration because of all the reasons that you kept throwing at him. 

“You’re right. I like to make you miserable.” Joe stated. “In fact, I hate you so much that I stopped that man from asking you out again. I told him that on purpose, so he doesn’t come back.”

You threw your hands in the air, your shoulders finally relaxing as he spit out the truth to your face. 

“Finally!” You exclaimed. “The truth finally came out! I guess we both agree!”

Joe took a step forward towards you, nodding his head. “Yea, we both agree.”

You both stared at each other for a moment as you took a deep breath. Silence surrounded the hall as you turned around and ready to unlock your door when Joe had curled his hand around your wrist. You froze for a moment and looked over your shoulder. He was giving you that look again. The look he gave you when you two had talked in the lobby. The look he gave you earlier at dinner. 

His eyes turned into doe eyed ones as he gently pulled you towards him. His soft pink lips crashing into yours. You felt the air in your lungs leave as he moved his lips with yours. His hand cupped your cheek so gently, his body pressed against yours as he gently pushed you against your front door. All the anger inside of you left as you curled your hand around the back of his head and pulled him closer to you. 

Butterflies invaded your veins as both of your lips moved together. Joe’s arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your body closer against his as if the closeness between you and him wasn’t enough. You continued to kiss him deeply, feeling the air between you two shift into something new.

Suddenly, this game you were playing with Joe became too dangerous. 

********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover @mdurdenpitt @siriuslysmoking

[mochinek0]

Love Ballads-Ch.2

START

"Hello, Adrien!" chimed Lila, placing the call on speaker, "Are you as excited for today's date as much as I am?"

"Hello, Lila." Adrien acted, "Yes. I'm excited, as well."

Lila smile grew as she looked in the mirror. She had chosen the perfect dress to make him fall for her.

"I can't wait to see all our friends again." Adrien smiled, knowingly spoiling her plans.

"What?" she asked, dropping her mocha lipstick.

"Yeah, it's already been approved by Father." the model continued, "Every Saturday is couples night with our friends from College."

"Really?" asked Lila, as she started to bite on her thumbnail.

"Yep." Adrien smirked, "Nino suggested it."

"Who else is going?" she asked, staring at her tangerine dress.

"I don't know really, just that it's mostly couples." he stated, "Anyways, I just texted you the address. I'll meet you there."

"Oh?" she whined, "You're not picking me up? Boyfriends really should-"

"No, I have to leave early. I have a shoot at dawn, but you're welcome to catch up with everyone. I can't wait! " Adrien replied, before hanging up on his supposed girlfriend.

'How could he just ruin my plans like this? He was suppose to be a good boy and pick me up for our date! He was suppose to take me to dinner so I could show all of Paris he's mine! I can't even dress up, but I can't go casual either. Time to make Agreste Jr see what he's missing out on.'

"Casual yet flirty." she smiles, putting together her new outfit.

"Adrien, Bro!" Nino cried as he pulled his best friend into a hug.

"It's good to see you too, Nino!" replied Adrien with a hug.

"So where's Lila?" Nino asked, breaking the hug.

"She's on her way. I got a shoot at dawn so I thought it was better to come separate. I didn't want her reunion with you guys to be cut short on my account." the model smiled.

"Hey, Sunshine!" called Alya, enveloping him into a hug as well.

Soon everyone was pulling him into a hug until only Marinette was left.

"Hey, Marinette." Adrien smiled.

"Hey, Adrien." she smiled in return, "It's good to see you again."

'No stutter? When did that happen?'

Suddenly, he was enveloped by the scent of lilies and rain as she hugged him.

"You too." he smiled, faintly recalling his mother, "What have you been up to?"

"Um, university." She mumbled, "I'm in the fashion program."

"I knew your sketches were amazing!" Adrien grinned, "Are you here alone?"

"Oh! Um, no. I-I came with Nathaniel." Marinette answered.

"Oh. Um, that's nice." murmured the young model, only to receive a nod, "How long?"

"Four months?" she questioned.

"So, it's still new?" he asked.

"Yeah, thought I'd give it a shot." Mari shrugged, receiving a curt nod in return.

"Alright; it's time for the duet!" cried out Alya.

Everyone groaned in response.

"Oh, stop it! We do this every week. So, who's starting?" she asked, looking around the room, "Sunshine, you're up."

"I don't have-" he began.

"Mari, join him." interrupted Alya.

Marinette groaned, but still got up from her seat. Adrien and Marinette took the stage and grabbed a mic.

"Babe!" hissed Nino.

She shushed him. Alya ignored the looks thrown her way from everyone else. Yes, she knew that Marinette was technically seeing Nathaniel, but she also knew her girl wasn't in love with him. Maybe, a tiny part of her hoped, now that they were older, Adrien would finally see how amazing Marinette was.

"So, how do we do this?" Adrien questioned.

"Hit the random button and we sing whatever comes up." Marinette answered.

"Okay." he replied.

'That's simple enough.'

They watched as the song list shuffled rapidly before settling on 'Why Don't You Love Me'.

Adrien noticed the petite designer freeze up and the room became silent.

"Um, is-is this okay?" the model asked, confused by the air in the room.

"Uh, ye-yeah." she replied, taking a deep breath. Marinette turned and smiled at him.

"Ready?" Mari asked.

"Yep." he smiled.

Adrien closed his eyes and gulped. It was his first time singing in front of his friends.

'I can do this.'

See , I can't wake up

I'm living a nightmare,

That keeps playing over again

Locked in a room so hung up on you and you're cool with just being friends,

Left on the side lines,

Stuck at a red light,

Waiting for my time and I can't see

When the duet began, Adrien turned his head towards his partner and smiled as Marinette sang beautifully along with him. She belted out the melody, perfectly.

Why don't you love me,

Touch me,

Tell me I'm your everything

'Wow. Marinette's just as amazing as always.'

The air you breathe,

And why don't you love me,

Baby,

Open up your heart tonight,

'cause I could be all that you need,

Oh,

Why don't you love me?

Why don't you love me?

As Marinette began to sing her part, Adrien found he couldn't look away from her.

See I'm just to scared to tell you the truth,

'cause my heart, it can't take anymore.

Adrien took a step back, as she suddenly turned and looked at him as she sang. Suddenly, it was like she was only singing for him. It was hard to fight the blush that was trying to take over his face.

Broken and bruised,

Longing for you and I don't know,

What I'm waiting for.

Left on the side lines,

Stuck at the red light,

Waiting for my time,

Taking a deep breath, Adrien returned the melody with as much passion as she did.

So just tell me,

Why don't you love me.

Adrien couldn't help but smile, as a blush overtook her face when he sang back to her.

Touch me,

This time her eyes were on him.

Tell me I'm your everything

The air you breathe,

And why don't you love me,

Baby,

Open up your heart tonight

'cause I could be all that you need

Oh

Why don't you give me a reason?

Give me a reason

Please tell me the truth

Please tell me the truth

You know, that I keep believing

I keep believing

'til I'm with you

Adrien slowly reached out and grasped Marinette's hand.

Why don't you love me?

Startled, Marinette quickly looked at their hands, before returning her gaze back at him. Only when she looked up, she found he had closed the gap, bringing their hands to his chest.

Kiss me

She couldn't help but look away.

'Why does it feel like I'm begging for a kiss?' she wondered.

I can feel your heart tonight

It's killing me (killing me)

So why don't you love me?

Touch me

Tell me I'm your everything

The air you breathe

And why don't you love me?

Baby?

Open up your heart tonight

'cause I could be all that you need

Oh

Why don't you love me?

Why don't you love me?

Why don't you love me?

Why don't you love me?

Why don't you love me?

As the song ended, Marinette quickly set down the microphone and hurried to her seat. She took a deep breath as she calmed her traitorous heart.

'It wasn't a confession; I have Nathaniel! I can't fall for Adrien again! This is suppose to be my time to get over him!'

Confused, Adrien sets down his mic on the stand. As he went to his seat, he noticed Alya looking at her phone.

'Was I that bad?'

"Congrats, Man! You killed it with that song!" Nino claimed, clapping him on the back.

"You both harmonized beautifully." stated Luka.

Mari blushed in response and took a sip of her drink. Luka had never said that about her and Nathaniel. She decided it was best to ignore him, missing Alix elbowing him in the ribs.

"Hey, I found someone." called Nathaniel as he entered the room.

"Adrien!" Lila cried, throwing her arms arounf him.

"Lila?" he questioned.

"I tried calling you when I got here, but-" she sniffed.

'I completely forgot she was coming. I was having fun, too.'

"She was a little lost and once she mentioned Nino, I figured she was with us." intervened Nathaniel, while Lila buried herself in Adrien's shirt.

"Thanks, Nathaniel. Sorry, I had the first song so none of us heard my phone go off." Adrien winced.

Lila took a look around the room. It really was people from their college days, including Marinette. Lila smiled in Mari's direction, as she hugged Adrien tighter. Marinette rolled her eyes in response to Lila's childishness. Adrien sighed at the girl's actions towards each other.

'Right, they never got along. Marinette was the only other person who figured out Lila's a scheming manipulator.'

"It's so nice to see everyone again!" greeted Lila.

Adrien ignored the excitement in the room, as Nathaniel went over to Marinette and took the seat next to her.

Five more songs were sung before the alarm on his phone went off.

"Sorry, everyone." Adrien stated as he stood up, "I have to head out. I have a shoot at dawn."

"Yeah, better get your beauty sleep, Model Boy." teased Alya.

Everyone quickly pulled their old friend into a hug.

"Do you still play?" asked Luka, as he patted him on the back.

"Yeah." the model answered.

"We should try and jam on one of your off days." Luka insisted.

"Right, cause those exist." Adiren chuckled, "Maybe one of these Wednesdays, whenever we hit your place."

"Sounds great!" replied Luka, "Mind if I get your number?"

"Oh, me too!" cried Alya.

"Same!" shouted Ivan.

Soon everyone was inputting their number into his phone. Lila latched onto his arm as everyone played 'Pass the Potato' with his phone.

"Oh, I forgot the best part!" Adrien interjected, before she could try and talk her way out of it, "Lila is staying! She told me how much she was excited to see everyone again. Right?"

"Of course!" she smiled.

'Again! How does he keep ruining everything? It wouldn't have taken much to walk out to the car with him for some privacy and leave these losers here. At least I have a toy to play with. Time to go for the kill.'

"So, Marinette." Lila prodded, knowing that being with Adrien must be killing the so-called designer, "How long have you and Nathaniel been together?"

Marinette giggled, "Four months."

"What's so funny about your dating life?" she asked, catching Nathaniel attention.

"I can see why you and Adrien are going out." Mari answered, "You're so much alike."

"What do you mean?" Lila questioned.

"Adrien also asked about my dating life." Mari smiled, as Lila simmered in her anger.

'This is not how this was suppose to go!'

"Adrien asked about us?" asked Nathaniel.

"Yeah, well, you were in the restroom and he asked if I was here by myself. Once I told him I was here with you, he asked 'how long' as well." Marinette said, before clapping as Alya took the stage.

'Why would Adrien want to know about if Marinette was here by herself? He's dating Lila; a model! At least she didn't deny it, right?'

"Did you ask about us?" asked Lila, interrupting his thoughts.

"Nope. In fact I had no clue he had a date til you arrived. We sang the duet, at Alya's insistence. He sang since it was his first night and Nathaniel wasn't here." replied Marinette, as she looked at the drink menu.

Lila simmered throughout the night as her scheme crumbled. Marinette didn't seem remotely jealous of her relationship with Adrien Agreste. She was too busy dating the redhead. It made her sick to see them so affectionate with each other.

Marinette on the other hand was eager to get home. Nathaniel was acting weird. She wasn't one for PDA. They had held hands and she's kissed him on the cheek before rushing off to class, but for him to drape his arm around her...it was too much. Mari smiled and lowered his arm off her, before excusing herself to go to the bathroom.

TAGLIST: @meme991001 @stainedglassm @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @missmadwoman @abrx2002 @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog

[njamil21]

Eid Mubarak!!

It was technically from Saturday to Sunday but after spending both days with family, there was no way I was getting this done on time haha! I was really struggling from I wanted for this year's illustration but after waiting in line for about an hour to get some henna done on my hand, I decided to use that as inspiration.

I've drawn Fatin with henna before but it's always been rather light and not the main focus. When I was getting my henna done, I was very fascinating by the color change of the paste. From how it came out of the tube a shiny black, to a dry brown, and then peeled off to reveal a pretty red and orange design on my skin. I wanted to use those colors to add some variation to the floral design in the back and use it as base colors for Fatin's outfit. Drawing the actual henna designs on Fatin's hands and ankles were a little tough since since the illustration was so small, but I'm glaf I still got it as detailed as I did.

I hope you all had a safe and lovely Eid and got to relax a bit between the parties and get togethers. And if you don't celebrate, I hope you all had a lovely weekend!

Please do not edit or repost without permission. (I edited my commission prices!)

[gascon-en-exil]

A Primer on Actual (SFW-ish) Male Fanservice

Has this ever happened to you? You're making a social media post or video or whatever about Fire Emblem Heroes, and you point out that a primary feature of the game is its unrelenting torrent of horny-just-verging-on-explicit female character designs: the physics-defying bras, the impossibly-contorted boobs-and-butt poses, upskirts and camel toes galore, strategically-placed rips in damaged art, the odd foot focus here and there, etc.

You're making a good case - not that it's hard, IS is not subtle about any of this - but then someone comes along and leaves a comment to the effect of "but the summer banners have shirtless men! Checkmate, loser."

This post aims to counter that, to demonstrate that genuine male fanservice on par with what FEH does with its female characters looks very, very different and amounts to much more than just muscular guys with their shirts off. To do so, I'm going to have to pull example art from pretty much the only video game subgenre that can be relied upon to deliver here: sexually explicit gay dating sims. We're going to be looking at how these games frame the male body, and what sexualized (partial) male nudity really looks like outside of the aspirational power fantasy lens adopted by most mainstream, straight-male directed media including FEH.

Of course, I'm gay myself, and I can anticipate the rebuttal to this rebuttal - that women, allegedly, do not eroticize the body in the same way as men...unless they're dirty fujoshi in which case their opinions can be immediately discarded. I leave it to any women reading this to have fun unpacking that nonsense.

(It must be noted that, while the games I'm pulling these images from are all explicit, I've gone out of my way to select art that would theoretically fall within what seem to be the content guidelines of FEH: no exposed genitals or bare butts. I'm labeling this post SFW-ish all the same though, so use your discretion when viewing.)

Let's start with something simple and softcore from Coming Out on Top.

This is a variant on a popular mild fanservice image: a guy lifts his shirt, exposing his belly (and possibly stomach hair). In context this is also intended to convey vulnerability, as the character is drunk and struggling to undress. Also noteworthy is that the framing here is explicit with the MC in the shot.

Continuing with the softer stuff, here's one from clicker game Blush Blush.

This game has a bunch of technically SFW options to choose from, but I went with this for two reasons. One, it's an example of how shirtless men can be eroticized without being excessively muscular; two, it's a goofy holiday pic that teases with the strategically-placed candy cane and the allusion to the "Dick in a Box" Saturday Night Live song. The NSFW variation of this image goes full throttle with that idea.

From All Men Are Pigs:

I really wanted to include something from this game as its art style stands out quite a bit in contrast to many of the others here, although unfortunately some of the best examples break the rule. Here in a rare (for these games) non-sexual action pose, the character is performing a ballet routine on a stripper pole in a gay bar: a campy concept that works fairly well in context and that explicitly calls attention to the character as an eroticized object. He is, however, consenting to the in-universe ogling, and as he's elsewhere revealed to have experience with sex work it's understood that he knows the value of showing off his body. Call that something you'd never hear a character express in FEH...except someone like Camilla, perhaps?

Let's get a little spicier with a pair from Full Service.

This may be the tamest of the swimwear outfits seen in the game's beach episode, but I wanted something that would compare to the summer banner designs of FEH's male characters. Even so, note the pose: reclining, legs slightly open, displaying a single nipple. This guy is the biggest bottom in the game's cast and is framed as such, even with the relatively conservative outfit and the sunglasses obscuring his face (which symbolically tie into his internalized biphobia and anxiety about publicly expressing his attraction to men). Further, because this character is a model it may be assumed that the posing is intended to be read as deliberate.

This one comes from the game's costume night set piece, which includes several designs that wouldn't be out of place in some of the more random seasonal banners. I chose this one as a counterpoint to what FEH does with its shirtless men. There's the cocky expression, the crotch bulge with nothing underneath, and the angling which makes it look like he's standing over you. To contrast the beach image, this guy is the total top of the cast, so the musclebound partial nudity is less about being aspirational for the presumed viewer and more about erotic dominance.

For something more fantastical, here's one from the sci-fi title The Symbiant: Re:Union.

This game's main claim to fame is alien tentacle porn, but this scene is intended as a moment of genuine, human(oid) vulnerability for the character, on the night when he reunites with his ex (the MC and viewer here) for the first time in two years. The camera pans up over his entire body, ending on this view in profile with a very large nip slip and the cigarette calling attention to his hand and mouth. As with several others, this image is also deliberate enticement, conveying both the languor of casual hookups and the weight of the characters' history together. (Obviously a mobile gacha doesn't have the space to grant such narrative or thematic significance to its eroticism...but that is part of the point.)

Moving along, here's one from Camp Buddy: Scoutmaster Season. Get ready for the just-shy-of-X-rated.

This one's a character portrait, unlike all the others here which are CGs, so debatably it's more in line with what you'd see in FEH. And...yep. It's a sexy bull costume. "Crotch bulge" doesn't begin to cover it, there's the pubic hair, the pierced nipples, and assorted other bits like the bell and the saddle and the tailed butt plug. Some time ago I showed off a different horny character design from this game and got an anon calling it stupid, so let's talk about that. Is this design technically something someone could wear in real life? Yes; parts of it resemble bondage gear, and the character displays his interest in leather in another scene. Is it impractical and stupid? Quite possibly. Does the subsequent sex scene take full advantage of the costume for some Dom/sub barnyard roleplay? Also yes. This continues my point about designing beefy (heh) muscular guys, and how there's a world of difference between this and, like, Hawkeye or summer Ephraim/Dimitri/whoever.

Incidentally, this character also has an oversized dick to the point of straining disbelief and the MC's insides. If you're looking for the male equivalent of breasts so enormous they can barely be held in by barely-there tops, that would be giant dicks - and there's no way in hell that we'll ever see those in FEH, even in technically SFW bulge form.

Continuing with BLits's games, here's one from the upcoming Jock Studio.

It's a male boobs-and-butt pose, one that doesn't require the character to dislocate his spine! I chose this image because the pose and outfit choice is remarkably similar to that of the notorious Tharja Summer Scramble DLC pic that got censored outside of Japan. Jock Studio actually has a better instance of the same pose with a different character, one where the MC's horny dialogue even calls attention to the ampleness of those two elements; unfortunately, the character has his underwear off there so it's too horny for this post. Much like Tharja with Anna in the DLC, here the character is being surprised by someone walking in while they're changing and making comically lewd remarks about their body. The contextual difference is that, rather than being forced into a swimsuit, the character here is disrobing to film a pornographic scene, and is only surprised by the MC only just now learning that their club makes porn. Hilarity ensues in both cases, but JS's setup is ironically less voyeuristic despite the game's premise.

Finally, let's close things out with one last image from Coming Out on Top. Very borderline, but I've got a distinct point to make with this one.

Like a lot of media, gay dating sims often struggle with eroticized depictions of various types of men, among them fat, hairy, and middle-aged (or older). I believe the oldest human character with a stated age in this post is the bull guy, and he's merely in his 40s. But back to the image above, it takes full advantage of the size and age of the character on the right relative to the MC. His bulk takes up much of the frame, but it's clearly an intimate, protective embrace you'd expect of a bear daddy character. I point this out because larger and/or older male characters are often disregarded outright in FEH, or like Fargus recently they're paradoxically given more fanservice-y designs (Visible nipples and chest hair! In FEH!) presumably because the developers think that no one would look at them that way.

I think that's enough for now. The important thing to remember here is that sexual fanservice is more than simply degrees of nudity. It's about framing, angling, which body parts are emphasized, and when possible the surrounding circumstances and how they inform the character's eroticism. Is it deliberate, is it accidental...

...or is it just there to get you to gamble for your favorites?

[sepublic]

The way they immediately start with a full shot of the Forbidden Five, Kur included, almost as if to shut us up… Finally, we get to see Zarkt’s minifigure with the actual hat, where there’s a second row of openings for his mouth to show as I guessed! And also confirmation that Nokt and Rox are keeping their capes, whereas Kur and Drix DO differ with shoulder pads, and Zarkt just has nothing. I was wondering about that. Drix with his hat properly scaled up.

And KUR!!! Mummy vibes, I remember seeing a ‘leak’ claiming Kur as the Master of Sand and for some reason I kept imagining it? And now that they’re an actual mummy with beige coloration…! Just as I hoped, they retained the wrapped-up look for Kur from Bonzle’s flashback; They resemble Drix more, which adds to my theory that the designers consolidated that aesthetic for one of the Five instead of two.

What someone speculated about Kur being white is also technically true; It’s a faded white but I think it counts! Also like how Kur has the vibes of a mummy unearthed from a desert because it reminds me of that other character named Kur from the Secret Saturdays and how he was unearthed…! But of course; Just as Kur has been the one we’ve seen the least of, so too in this trailer do they suffer this!

The Forbidden Five’s designs are interesting in terms of cohesion; Aside from the hats, they don’t have a unifying design trait? It feels like they have this thing where there are unifying traits for some but not all; Kur, Nokt, and Rox have the evil face patterns. Drix, Nokt, and Rox have black outfits. Zarkt and Kur have their robes hanging open while the others are tied together at the waist. Black hats except for Rox and Kur, who have identical brown ones. Again, Kur feels like the outlier with their lack of black coloration.

It’s interesting that Nokt was framed as a potential leader of sorts, and then we suspected Zarkt for various reasons. But in this trailer it feels like Rox is the most important? Hell yeah Evil Women represent!!! I’ve always thought Rox was in a way the most important, since on top of an element and Shatterspin, she had this incredibly busted Theroxian magic that we see her use again, and also created the Wolf Masks. Magic is so diverse it lets Rox do the things nobody else can, so she’s probably in charge of performing all the arcane rituals, as Jordana was when emulating her. With how much of the Forbidden Five’s power ties back to Rox, it seems like the last arc was perhaps setting up the actual focus of the Forbidden Five! Nice…

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: But since the world’s obsessed with saying ‘psych’ (pt 1)

summary: Detention, coffee, and holy shit Damian can hot-wire a motorcycle-

aka Damian and Jon get their shit together (sort of) and start off their tentative friendship, only strengthening when Jon finds out something that draws him to Damian even more....

Okay.

Here’s the thing.

In order to keep his nice, shiny record, and his top student status, as well as not making his older brother turn on the accursed dad voice, Damian had to make amends with stupid Jon Kent.

The last few weeks consisted of their back and forths, some mildly amusing, others…rather physical, leading them to where they were now, Saturday morning detention. 

Damian was certain he’d be able to breach what he was positive was a cover, perhaps self defense, and maybe even fix the boy up.

Granted, he was no miracle worker, and in his opinion,  Jon Kent was in desperate need of a miracle.

However, he was certainly persuasive. The added benefit of being a former delinquent himself gave him a way to worm past the defenses, not that the other boy would know. 

And something most everyone but themselves knew was that maybe, despite everything pointing to the contrary, they didn’t really want to hate each other.

Admittedly, detention was a familiar environment to Jon, countless weekends lost to the silent drab classrooms. 

“Yo, Kent!” A teen with close cropped brown curls called out from the side of the room as he entered the designated detention room.

“Heard Wayne kicked your ass last week.” The shit-eating grin plastered on their face gave the hint that the words were teasing, but Jon knew it was also to get a rise out of him.

“What do you know, Akira?” He snorted. “At least I’m here for somethin’ other than scribbling on the walls.”

They made a mock offended gasp, the jacket they were wearing covered in tastefully placed paint splotches, patches and pins, much like the rest of the outfit.

“I’ll have you know it was a beautiful piece of work, and a form of self-expression. Besides, it was technically for an English project, so I shouldn't even be here.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes, shooting them a grin that would leave most people swooning. Akira only smirked back, and spoke up again.

“So, how was it like to have a good boy gremlin kick your ass? Bet you thanked him after, what with the drooling you’ve been doing lately.”

Jon flushed and opened his mouth to retort, but as he did, a teacher stepped in the door.

“Jon Kent, you’re to be in the classroom down the hall instead.”

He nodded, flipping Akira off behind his back and walking out. Unfortunately for him, the only other person in the room was Damian fucking Wayne, who was on time and probably a few minutes early to everything, including detention, apparently. 

“Hello,” he said cautiously. “Good morning.”

Jon startled. What the hell was going on? Sure, Damian was polite when they had their tutoring, although after the first few days it was more sarcastic. 

“Were you body-snatched?” He blurted out. Damian’s lips twitched upwards, but the flicker vanished as quick as it came.

“No.” Jon watched him suspiciously, before turning and sitting in the back. The other boy got up and  slipped in the seat next to him.

“Seriously, man, what’s wrong with you?” He crossed his arms, scowling at the boy next to him. Damian held out a cup, similar to the one in his hand. 

“Here.”

“Did you poison it?” Jon looked at it warily.

Damian shot him a deadpan look, shaking the cup at him. “Take it or leave it, Kent.” 

Hesitantly, he took it, and under his watch, sipped from it, sighing as the bitter taste of caffeine flooded his senses. Not too much milk and lots of sugar, just how he liked it.

Wait.

“How do you know my order?” he demanded immediately, Damian nearly dropping his own cup. 

He flushed, whether in embarrassment or anger, and avoided his gaze. “I only guessed. You bring a coffee cup during tutoring every week and based on what the contents smelled like, I added it up.”

Jon took the lid off of the cup and sniffed hesitantly, much to the other boy’s amusement. “I don’t smell anything,” he pouted. “It’s just coffee.”

Damian covered his mouth with a hand, hiding the small smile that appeared. “Well, we can’t all be winners, can we?”

“You’re telling me.” Jon scowled, poking at the fading bruises on his pale skin. “Since we’re being civil today for some reason, mind tellin’ me where you learned to kick ass? Because as much as I hate to admit it, you sure kicked mine.”

His expression became guarded and he shook his head, opening a book. “No, thank you. I’m afraid this is as far as my pleasantries extend today.”

“C’mon, we were gettin’ somewhere.” He whined, draping himself across the desk, staring up at him with black framed blue eyes.

“I’ve beaten you once, provoke me and you’ll receive it a second time.” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and inwardly he cursed his own uncontrolled anger. 

This is what would always get him into trouble, the lack of brain to mouth filter as his mind clouded with the emotions, taking hold of his actions without thinking of the consequences.

“No thanks.” Jon muttered, ducking his head and pulling out his phone, scrolling through his socials. The silence stretched out, Damian considering he’d done a wonderful job of being civil, although they weren’t exactly joined at the hip yet.

“Sorry I punched you in the face.” He blurted out against his will. “And you know, just generally beat you up. In my defense, you were very provoking.”

Because this was how to properly apologize. Ah yes, justifying your actions with their own. Honestly, what was it about this boy that made every one of his perfectly crafted walls and mannerisms come crashing down in flames?

To his surprise, Jon put his face down, shoulders shaking. Damian was quickly hit with a large dose of anxiety, concern, and fear. He carefully reached out a hand like what his brothers would have done, and placed it on his shoulder, causing the other boy to jump up and reveal something that caused Damian to scowl and turn away.

The fucker was laughing .

“I’m sorry,” He chortled. “I just didn’t want you to punch me in the face-”

“I should still do that.” Damian grumbled, hitting him in the shoulder a bit harder then needed for a ‘friendly’ punch. “I was concerned I'd made you cry.”

Jon looked nearly offended, the expression off-put somewhat by the fact that he was still smiling. “Takes a bit more than that to make me cry, Wayne.”

“Good to know.” Damian deadpanned. 

They stared at each other for a moment, the corners of Damian’s mouth twitching upwards and sparking a new round of laughter from Jon. The other boy fell victim to the unspoken hilarity as well, quiet chuckles catching the other boy’s attention.

“Hey,” He said after they’d quieted and gone back to the things they’d been doing. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

And why am I falling for it? 

Damian shrugged. “It’s a little hard to have to hate someone like this. You’ve no idea how much I wish I could go back and erase it. If I want things to go the way I do, then I think I should keep my patience.”

“I’m sorry too.” Jon muttered. “I was an asshole, I know. And I kept going even when I should have stopped. I was surprised, to be honest. I didn't think you’d be so…good at fighting back. It was stupid and kind of mean, even if you weren’t super bothered by it.”

And maybe…maybe I was a little drawn to you, too. Unexplained, aggravating enamourment. Couldn’t catch it, always just out of reach. And always would be. 

Damian fiddled with the pencil in his hands. “Apology accepted. No more bothering me to the point where I punch you again, right?”

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ at the end and offered him a lopsided smile.

“And you'll be showing up on time for tutoring?”

“Can’t promise that, darlin’.” Jon shot finger guns at him, Damian shaking his head, a smile threatening to break through the stern facade.

“I guess that’s something.” a flicker of some emotion flashed across his face, and he stuck out his hand to be shook. “Would you like to start over?”

Jon nodded, and Damian’s small hand was enveloped by the other boy’s leather clad one. “Jon Kent, bad boy extraordinaire and all around flirt. Nice to meetcha, gorgeous.”

He scoffed as a wink accompanied the words, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Damian Wayne. Your tutor for the foreseeable future. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

They shook once and let go, for once at peace. Jon turned his head to the side. “Since we’re chill now, teach, wanna get outta here? Get a bite to eat?”

“As tempting as that is, I promised I’d not get into any more trouble at school. After our time is served, however, I might consider the offer. On the condition that you stop the godforsaken flirting. ”

Jon smirked, poking at him. “Did I fluster the great Damian Wayne with a few notes on his appearance?”

“No!” He sputtered, pink dusting his cheeks. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t want people to think you’re my boyfriend.” 

Jon faltered at Damian’s clear dislike of the thought, not that he could blame him. He wanted to stay on this boy’s good side, now that he’d gotten a taste of it. The other side had been fun, and knowing the buttons to push, he could easily get a rise out of him if bored.

He played it off, pulling a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I would be a wonderful boyfriend. But, if you’re not into perfection, I understand.”

The laugh was quiet but genuine, hands flying up to his mouth to hide it. “Whatever.”

“Did Mr. Eloquent just say whatever ?” the other boy gasped. “A piece of informal language from Damian Wayne?” 

“Dramatic.” He scoffed. “I’m really not as bad as I seem.”

“Yeah right.” Jon laughed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He gave a daring grin, causing something to flare in the depths of Jon’s soul. The smile mirrored the one he so often wore getting into trouble, and suddenly he was more inclined to believe that the boy he’d thought as a teacher’s pet goody two shoes with a mean right hook really wasn’t all grades and perfection.

“Guess maybe you ain’t so bad, Wayne.” Jon said at last. “Pretty on the outside, but you’ve got a different side to ya. Gremlin-like, probably.”

“I feel mildly offended by that.” Damian muttered, before responding in kind. “You aren’t ‘so bad’ yourself either, I suppose. Despite all of this , you’re softer than you’d like to admit. Puppy-like, probably.”

“You know, I see your point of mildly offending.”

They laughed together, a timer on Damian’s phone ringing. “Oh, would you look at that? Almost free.”

“I guess time does fly when you’re having fun.” Jon responded, hesitant. “Guess we were kinda having fun.”

“It would seem that way.” The other boy typed something rapidly, and quickly received a response. “I’ll take you up on the lunch offer, Kent, if you’d like to continue this fun .”

“I would, actually. I’ll take you to meet one of my friends, her family runs the best diner in this city.” Jon grinned. 

“Another miscreant such as yourself?” Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, only when she’s with me.” He grinned at him, kicking up his feet onto the desk just to make the other boy scowl. “You’ll have more fun than your good boy senses are used to.”

“Mm, we’ll see.” The other boy tapped a pencil against his lip. “I think there’s a lot about me that you don’t know, Jon.”

“I’ll bet.” 

“And get your feet off the table, were you raised in a barn?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I’m getting more context on that later.”

The short amount of time left in the classroom was mostly spent in silence, the promise of an adventure hanging in the air. And maybe a friendship as well.

[28mindgames]

What were the highlights of the show last night for you?

Hope you had the best night 🩷

for context: it was one of the worst weeks of my entire life because on wednesday my grandfather had a heart attack and i had to travel urgently to my hometown and then to another city where he was in intensive care. so when i got the call in my mind the posibility of going to the show was cancelled and obviously that make me very sad but at the same time i felt guilty for wanting to go. however, my family insisted that i had to go but i waited until the last visit on friday to decide because i'm an only daughter, i'm his only granddaughter and my family consists of him, my uncle and my mother so it's not easy and he's my whole life but that same night i returned to rosario and very early on saturday i was able to travel to buenos aires, i arrived there around noon. the line was soo long but there was a beautiful autumn sun.

i met 5 other girls and i was really surprised not to see or talk to anyone underage, we entered at 5:30 in the afternoon and i unbuttoned my jeans and sat in the pit to eat an alfajor (jajsjs). the chaos begun with pacífica and continued with giant rooks (INCREDIBLE!!!). before the show started i was on the verge of losing a shoe and even though it was hot from so many people, i had 4 layers of clothes and felt very cold. at this point my throat hurt A LOT

i realized that liam was in the vip but in the part where i was (next to the catwalk) no one made much of a fuss and liam's "newness" lasted at most 40 seconds, which is why i'm surprised to see so much talk about him online when in my experience it meant nothing and the people around me said "uh it's liam, that's great" and after 2 minutes they were already focused on louis coming out on stage (no olé olé olé liam in my area)

about the show: i don't know if i have the words to describe it but it made me feel so much HAPPINESS, i think about it and smile at the screen, louis was beautiful (that color is great for him and i loved the outfit !!!) the feeling of the music in your chest in a live show is incomparable and the introduction of the greatest 10/10, there were things that surprised me like songs that i didn't think the audience would sing that louder as coacoac or face the music. megamix live is a religious experience, my eyes filled with tears during we made it (how good it sounds!!! god was it possible to beat ltwt? yes). the band? excellent, louis' voice? sweet and clear

my phone doesn't take nice photos at night and the videos are dubious and never do it justice, so for me it was great to focus on enjoying the show and not so much on recording every second or trying to get the best photo. i wish i could name one song in particular but i enjoyed them all, of the 1d covers, i felt more energy and it was louder wtbhg and i'm not going to lie i enjoyed it a lot (fun fact: that song was recorded in buenos aires during wwat - yes! overwork! yasss!)

the ooms fp was AMAZING AAAAAAAA !!!!!! AAAAA !!! !!!! SO MUCH FUN. i have watched the video that inspired it millions of times (rolling stones in buenos aires 2006 - around 5:30) dreaming of living something like that and it was better: there was pogo, energy and argentinidad. the saturdays fp made me cry. A LOT. you could feel the adoration and love of the public for him and every time louis spoke it felt special <3

after ooms i went behind the front pit to have a more panoramic view and i saw how chris (i had him next to me because he started taking photos during wtbhg and i 👀 🤔👽🚶‍♂️) and matt were toasting with the technical team. silver tongues is the perfect ending for the show and the fireworks were like the cherry in top of a cake aaaaand that's when it really hit me HOW COLD IT WAS (6°) and i wished for the next tour happens in spring when buenos aires is completely purple with the jacarandás and it's my birthday, the funny part is that now it's not even winter here. anyways I LOVED EVERY SECOND AND I ENJOYED IT SO MUCH <3 i love louis with my whole heart I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT NIGHT ♥️🇦🇷

[leafofkudzu]

Hello again! The first Saturday of a new month approaches once more, which means it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, [VS] Verdant Shield! The poll has run its course, and our location winner by a narrow last-minute victory is Hoelbrak!

For those who have no idea what these art parties entail, they're an idea carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all kinds to hang out, chat, and create together! Get a nice outfit together, find someone that inspires you, and create! Then afterwards, everyone posts their creations under the same tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! There is no off-site discord server or anything for art parties (well, these ones at least), since the idea is to encourage community creativity and interaction! Simply put, there's one thing I always say in every one of these posts, which will forever hold true: the 'goal' of an art party isn't to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Now, those who have been to previous parties know the basics about times and /squadjoin stuff by now, but for those who don't know or would just like a refresher, details about location and other such things are under the cut!

Location:

Lake Mourn is absolutely massive and basically impossible to miss since it takes up the entire West side of the map. If you head to Hero's Compass Waypoint and hop off the edge down onto the ice, that's the spot! I expect people will spread out a lot with this much room, so you may have to wander a bit to find where people have decided to set up shop!

Time & Squad Details:

As always, the party will consist of two separate events, technically with an hour in between though people with multiple accounts often hop from one to the other immediately.

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Runa Gravemourn for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or 1 hour before in-game reset). This one I’ll be hosting on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Valdis Kogrunner for an invite.

IMPORTANT NOTE RE: POTENTIAL MAP CLOSURES: Last time we were in Hoelbrak we had issues with very frequent map closures. To try and keep us together as much as possible, I'm actually going to suggest everyone join and stay in squad unless absolutely necessary so when we jump together we're more likely to end up in the same place. Ideally the map doesn't close every 15min but who's to say? We'll keep our fingers crossed. Should the squad cap out I'll enlist the help of another guildmate to get a second one going for further cat herding, so if you attempt to join my squad and it's full, please whisper me and I'll have the second squad's commander invite you to theirs instead!

Closing Words:

I may have been spending the last few parties quietly watching without much input, but these really are one of the highlights of my time in game, and of my month in general! I love seeing everyone come out and have fun making memories together, and I hope to see many new and returning faces this time around as well! Thank you all for making these events so special, and I'll see you all on Saturday! ♥

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's MC Wardrobes: Alan Parke, OG HSS Book 2. Featuring some edits by me!

How this series goes: With each book, for a MC I'm invested in, I'll assess each of their in-game outfits. How much do I like or dislike the outfit? Is this something that suits my MC's style, or does it make me go "My MC would NOT wear/own this"? And for the outfits that my MC would not wear or own, how would I alter or replace them? I'm not going to use screenshots from the actual game because I can't be arsed. Also I want to use the different sprite expressions to express how my MC would feel about each outfit.

I like to think this is a good opportunity to elaborate on my MCs' dress styles, and show off some edits :D

Now let's see how well the Book 2 outfits does justice to Alan!

Directory for the other parts will be included in the reblogs after I've completed the posts for all books!

Ch 1: "Hipster Handsome", "Winter Wonderland", and "Snow Day" Starter Outfits

These outfits are pretty neat. I think Alan would like the scarf and jacket from hipster handsome and the sweater in the winter wonderland one. But that's about it. Even then, they're not quite his style.

Verdict: Only the first two outfits are in Alan's wardrobe, and only partly. Alter by combining some pieces and adding a skirt.

Here's something more in his style. Weather appropriate, but still stylish.

Ch 1: "Live From Berry High" Outfit for Tiger News

It's nice, but he'd prefer the f!MC's version. This looks more like the m!version of the premium casual "Make A Statement" outfit from f!MC's wardrobe. Hence, something Evie would wear as a semiformal/date night thing (reminder to self: edit this outfit onto Evie).

Verdict: Alan would not wear this. Replace entirely.

Here's what he'd prefer.

BONUS ROUND: Ch 2: Basketball Uniform

Doesn't look bad on him, but not really his style either.

Verdict: Technically not in Alan's wardrobe because you have to return uniforms, but he wouldn't care for it either way.

Ch 3: "OMB Tigers" for Winter Carnival

Solid look, but he deserves to have a little "B" necklace like the f!MC version has.

Verdict: Part of Alan's wardrobe, but needs the addition of an extra piece. Alter by adding necklace. And replacing pants with skirt.

Here's the look in Alan's style.

Ch 7: "Evening Jade" for Maria's birthday party

This actually looks really nice on him! The tie goes with his hair. But it isn't really his preferred style.

Verdict: Alan would not own this. Replace entirely.

Obviously, I'm gonna give him a dress. I wanna keep it just nice enough for the restaurant, but still have a bit of a casual feel to it and not overly flashy, and somewhat maintain the aesthetic of the original. As much as he loves to grab people's attention with his dress style and make things all about him, he knows better than to upstage the birthday girl. Especially since he likes the birthday girl. I already made him lean into self-centered jerk in Book 2's storyline, no need to top that by having him straight up upstage the birthday gir...

...oh fuck it. His logic is that he should wear something extra nice to celebrate the special day of a girl he likes. And also that she gets some good eyecandy on her birthday. I don't think Maria would mind. Classic Alan Parke.

And I do still plan to make new outfits for the other characters for this event. Stay tuned.

Ch 11: "Clean Sweep" Janitor Disguise

Not his usual style, but he rocks the look, ngl. It's worth disguising himself.

Verdict: Alan would wear as a disguise, but he would not own this item (and I'm not sure if he'd be allowed to anyways). Keep it as is.

Ch 14: "Saturday Night" and "Forever Young" Premium Outfit for Payton's Winter Party

Ohhhhhh my god these have got to be the PLAINEST outfits in the whole game. They make the pool party outfit look like a met gala fashion show outfit. Legit the f!MC options are a shimmery gold sequin top and a bright pink tight top with a short pattern skirt, and then the m!MC outfits are THIS poopoo-colored shit!?!?!

I'm having a hard time deciding which is blander. The button-up on the first one kind of looks like snow falling in the night sky which is a bit of a nice touch, and I'd also say the blazer at least looks appropriate for the party setting but DID IT HAVE TO BE BROWN???? Meanwhile, the second one has a much better color scheme, but it's so plain and casual??? The f!MC's pink tank top and skirt outfit could also be technically considered casual, but it at least had a distinct style and some eyecatching design that I can actually buy the other characters fawning over them. I can not buy that with either of these.

Verdict: Alan would NOT own either of these. Replace entirely.

Here's the outfit that Alan WOULD wear, from the f!MC's options again.