#maybe even some of the sketches i have lying around | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evera-era · 8 months

Text

my sweet girl.

ellie williams x afab!reader

warnings: friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!

a/n: kinktober week 2 is here! writing this had me feeling some typa way,, ellie would never admit it but she’s def a praise kink girly

Today was different. Not because you were doing anything out of the ordinary — because you weren’t. You were hanging out with your friend Ellie, as you usually did on the weekends.

But you noticed that you’d let your eyes linger on her for a bit too long. And she let her eyes linger on you, too. You wondered if she always did that; if you only noticed because you felt confident enough to stare a bit more today.

Truthfully, your crush on Ellie developed a while ago. You were almost sure that it was obvious, considering how easily you’d agree to her — on everything.

But Ellie didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she just didn’t notice? Either way, she really liked your presence.

She made that apparent, albeit casual with it. Some days she showed up with a smile on her face and a movie tucked under her arm. Other times, she’d alter the schedule, sneakily pairing herself with you for patrols. If she noticed you at the pub, she’d greet you before handing you a freshly poured drink.

Ellie naturally gravitated to you. And you, her. Being around her just felt good. It was the sound of her voice that brought you back to the present.

“It’s nice out.” She murmurs, turning her head to the side to look at you. She was laying horizontally on your bed.

“Yeah,” You replied, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Should we go and do something?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, then shakes her head.

“Rather stay in here. With you.” She says calmly.

You smiled meekly. “Okay.”

You continued to doodle in her sketchbook. She let you borrow it sometimes, to practice your drawing. You’d tell her not to bother, that you’d never be nearly as good as she was. But she always insisted, and you accepted — at the least, she’d have something to remind her of you.

“Can I see?” She asks, noticing the way your sketch held your attention.

“It’s your sketchbook,” You joked, handing it to her.

She took it with gentle hands, holding it open so she could look at it properly. She flickered her eyes from the book to you. “This is good, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “Just… a silly drawing.”

“Your drawings aren’t silly.” She responds. “I think it’s nice.”

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. She passes it back to you.

“Why don’t you tear it out when you’re done?” She says. “So you can put it up.”

“Here? In the room?” You say with furrowed brows. You didn’t realize it was kind of a dumb question until after.

Ellie nods. “C’mon, it’ll look nice. It is nice.”

You look down at her bashfully. “I feel like you’re lying.”

“Well… I’m not,” She states. “And if you don’t hang it up, then I will. At my place.”

Your eyes widen. You can feel your cheeks go warm as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You… you serious?” You ask.

“Do I look like I’m not?”

You felt your face blush even more. But you muster up the courage to slowly meet her gaze. Her eyes are set on you, and they don’t look away.

“You always look serious,” You comment, shyly.

“Yeah… that part’s true.” She says, looking down at your lap. “Still tryin’ to work on that.”

“It’s okay. I mean… I don’t mind how you look.” You cleared your throat, looking out the window. “You’re pretty, Ellie.”

Ellie could feel her heartbeat grow in her chest. Her gaze softens as she glances at you. Then she shifts to put her hands behind her head.

“You’re prettier,” She adds, kicking her foot. “You’re always… like, gentle, and stuff.”

“You don’t know that,” You say, grinning. “Maybe I’m just that way around you.”

“Oh yeah?” She smirks. “Guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?”

You giggled. “Only so far.”

The room gets quiet again. You swore that during times like these, you could hear her breathing.

“Can I ask you something?” She says, interrupting the silence.

You nodded, closing the sketchbook.

“Have you ever, like…” She sighs. “Dated anyone? Or did stuff?”

Your heart skips a beat at her question. Ellie had never asked about this kind of subject before. And you’d never expect it from her — she wasn’t the type to openly delve into gossip.

You fiddled your thumbs at the thought. Ellie must be quite curious.

“Dated, yeah.” You murmured. “Doing stuff… not really.”

“Oh.” She mumbles. “Is it just, like, not your thing… or…”

“No,” You sigh. “Moreso the person. I think I wanted to like them, but I didn’t really like them. They weren’t… a good match for me.”

Ellie nods. Another minute goes by before she looks back up at you.

“So, then… what’s a good match for you?”

You brought your knees up to your chest.

“It’s a secret,” You whisper playfully.

“Secret?” She feigns shock. “I thought we were being honest here!”

You laughed.

Deep down, you were scared to confess your feelings to Ellie. You didn’t wanna ruin a good thing. But she’s always been soft when it comes to you, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Do you really wanna know?” You questioned after a minute, looking back over at her.

She raises her eyebrows. “I— I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything—“

“I’m not uncomfortable, Ellie,” You say. “Just… nervous, to like, say it.”

She watches you carefully. She swallows firmly, then folds her bottom lip beneath her teeth.

“Well… I wouldn’t… judge you, if you told me, you know.” She says quietly. “I might judge the person, but… not you.”

“That doesn’t really help, in this case.” You exhale shakily. Her eyes widen as she tries to figure out what you mean.

“Because… I like you,” You admit. “And… I think we would be a good match, Ellie.”

It’s quiet for a moment. A stray gust of wind blows through the window, causing the sheer curtains to sway gently. You maintained eye contact with the brunette, awaiting her answer.

“Did…” She clears her throat. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes.” You reply. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time, now.”

When she looks at you, her expression isn’t hardened. She’s studying you, tenderly. You can almost see a sliver of hope in her eyes.

Her eyes flutter as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “Um—“

“But you—“ You look off to the side, fearful of rejection. “You don’t have to say anything, Els.”

“No, I—“ Ellie huffs. “I’ve had a crush on you, too, Y/N. Since the first time we talked.”

Your breathing becomes shallow. You look over at her again; her eyes haven’t left your face.

“R-Really?”

She nods carefully, lifting her finger to scratch the tip of her ear. “I just, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me.”

You laugh under your breath. “How could I not?”

Ellie wrinkles her lips, bashfully. “I’m… not very lovely. Kinda just… me, y’know.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, so you were laying next to her in a similar position now. You rest your chin against your palm.

“I think you’re very lovely, Ellie.” You whisper. “And I like you a lot.”

She smiles, looking down at your lips. Her eyelashes flutter again. When her voice comes out, it’s like a whisper.

“Could… can I—“

“Yeah,” You cut her off, not even waiting to give her permission.

Ellie takes another moment to study your lips before propping herself up. At first she leaves her hands on the bed, but then she decides to cup the side of your face. She caresses your cheek with her thumb slowly — she wants to savor this moment — and listens to the sound of her heart beating.

She doesn’t want to close her eyes, but she thinks it’d be weird if she doesn’t, so she settles on doing so. Her nose brushes up against yours as her lips press gently against your own.

She kisses you like if she kisses any harder, you’d break. You can feel her holding her breath, trying to do it right. She pulls away after a few seconds.

“Was…” She exhales. “Was that okay?”

You nod, your lips spreading into a smile. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I know, I know.” She looks down at your lips again. “Just… didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

“You can’t fuck up a kiss,” You reply. “Unless… wait, is this your first time?”

“No— shit, did it seem like it?” She asks with wide eyes.

“No, no.” You giggle. “But you’re so nervous, I—“

“‘Cause— you— you’re so fucking pretty,” She retorts, facepalming as she blushes. “It’s hard.”

You bite your lip, tucking a stray piece of her away from her face. “Then do it again.”

Her eyes light up. “Yeah?”

“As many times as you want,” You murmur. “Why not?”

Ellie could feel warmth swell in her chest. This is why she loved being around you. You never made her feel bad for being the way she is. And yet, you somehow gave her the encouragement that made her feel like she could do anything in the world.

She doesn’t talk this time. Merely takes a breath, then leans in. She kisses you slow, taking the time to actually feel your lips. They were soft and sweet, just like you. Ellie swears she could stay right here forever.

When she pulls away, she keeps her eyes closed as she steadies her breathing. “Better?”

“Yeah,” You reply. “Let’s do it some more.”

If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen the way Ellie looked at you before you grabbed her face. But you didn’t, and she’s thankful, because she’s frozen in place for the first few seconds.

You had your hands in her hair as you pulled her top lip between yours. The tiniest moan escapes from her throat as she tries her best to re-focus and kiss you back. After a moment, she pulls away by a centimeter, then turns her head to the other side.

The two of you kiss several more times before she draws back. You look at her with expectant eyes.

“I—“ She stutters. “I’ve gotta… if we keep going, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”

“So don’t,” You explain, leaning to kiss her again. She pulls away.

“No, I mean…” Her face flushes even more. “God, this is so fucking embarrassing.”

At first you’re confused, but when your eyes flash down, you realize what she meant. Her nipples are poking through her shirt. She has her hands pulling at her button-up, trying to cover them.

You gently grab her wrists.

“Hey, it’s okay—“

“It’s not,” She insists. “I… I feel like a fuckin’ pervert. It’s only a fucking kiss, and I’m getting turned on—“

“Ellie—“

“I’m ruining it—“

“Ellie.” You say sternly, holding her hands still. “You’re not ruining anything, okay? It’s fine. If… if that’s what your body’s telling you, then…”

She watches you deliberately. “Then what?”

“Then… we could try it,” You whisper. “If you want.”

“Wh—“ She stutters. “But, what do you want? I don’t want you to feel like I’m going too fast—“

“I’m fine, Ellie. Promise.” You say. “I wanna try it, too.”

A damp spot began to form in Ellie’s underwear. She was so careful not to come on too strong, and here you were, practically begging her to take you all the way. She was shocked. Her head felt like it was spinning.

“You… you want me to be your first?”

You nodded.

“I— I don’t know if I can do that.” She blinks a few times before clarifying herself. “Not that I don’t want to — I really, really fucking want to — but I just, I don’t know if I’m gonna be good enough for you.”

“You’re already good enough for me,” You mumble, staring at her lips again.

“I mean it, Y/N, I—“ She sighs. “I don’t want your first time to be any less than perfect.”

“And it won’t be, as long as it’s with you.” You stroke her shoulder. “I… I want this, Ellie.”

She stares at you, still concerned.

“And even still, I’ll totally show you. I… I can tell you what feels good.”

After hearing you say that, Ellie swears her panties become a pool. She never thought about this before. She never thought about you telling her how to please you. Letting her know when she’s doing you right, and hitting the right spot. She can only imagine how pretty your voice would sound as she’s tongue deep in your cu—

“Ellie?” You say, bringing her out of her head. “If you changed your mind—“

“No, I—“ She places her hand on the back of your neck. “I’d never. I was just thinking.”

You smile. “Okay. Well, I’m right here, when you wanna start doing instead of thinking.”

She smirks to herself, nodding before removing her button up and tossing it on the floor. She’s wearing a black undershirt underneath, which fit tight around her upper arms. You resist the urge to whistle lowly.

“Lookin’ good, Els.”

She grins sheepishly. “I guess.”

Her hair droops down into her face as she slowly gets on top of you.

“Should’ve gotten a hair tie.”

“I’ll hold it for you,” You say, quickly moving your hands up to hold her hair back.

She leans down, grinning into your lips. “Thanks.”

She’s more confident when she kisses you this time. For the first few, it’s close-lipped, and then she feels the urge to explore. She swipes her tongue across your lower lip, and you copy her. She takes it as an invitation into your mouth, and she quickly begins toying with your tongue.

You vocalize a moan, which comes out awkwardly muffled. But Ellie didn’t care. She liked where this was going.

She uses her thumb to pull your mouth open even more. Her kissing becomes desperate, as if she needed you to breathe. You struggled to fully hold her hair as her movements became more passionate, but you tried anyway.

When she pulls away, a small string of spit connects the two of you. She emits a low groan at the sight.

“Fuck,” She whispers. “You’re so pretty like this.”

You look up at her with lustful eyes. “Can you take my clothes off?”

She stares at you before complying, gently pulling your shirt over your head. Her hands trail down the front of your body before hooking under your pant loop and pulling down. You decide to help her when it came to removing your panties.

When she’s done undressing you, she takes the time to fully look at the sight before her. Your bare body was glistening under the fading sunlight. She never thought she’d get the chance to see you under her, much less naked.

“You too,” You add, gesturing to her tank top. She nods before disrobing as well.

She looks down at your body. “Do you want—“

“Ellie,” You interrupt, reaching up to fondle her. Her breasts were perky, and her nipples a pale shade of pink. You eventually slide your hands down onto her hips. “You’ve been hiding all this beauty the whole time?”

She blushes again, speechless from your sudden compliment.

“God.” You whisper. “Ellie, you— your body… it’s stunning.”

Any previous train of thought is cleared from Ellie’s mind. She has no idea what to think or say, or even how to speak, for that matter. All she knows is that, if she’s not careful, she might cum from your words alone.

So she leans down instead, pressing her nose to your chest. She inhales your scent before tilting up and wrapping her lips around your breast. If she was honest, she didn’t want just your nipple — she wants to consume it all. Her other hand massages your other tit.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gently pulled on her scalp. The sensations she’s giving you made you gasp, thighs pressing together on their own.

She eventually switches over to the other side, and does the same thing. This time, she flits her green eyes up at you, carefully watching the faces you make. She drags her free hand down from the side of your breast to your waist, squeezing gently.

“Everything okay?” She whispers.

“Y-Yeah,” You whimper, looking down at her. “That felt really nice.”

She pulls away, leaning forward for one more kiss.

“Can I go down on you?” She asks quietly.

You hum in agreement, and she grins. She brings herself down til her face is just below your bellybutton.

“Smells so good,” She says, placing a small kiss on your pelvis. You prop yourself up against your elbows so you can get a better view looking down.

“I’m gonna lick it a bit,” She says softly. “Wanna know if it feels good.”

“Okay,” You grin.

The first stroke of her tongue is drawn out, almost painfully so. Your mouth watered. You craved the stimulation so bad, it was hard to remind yourself to be patient. But you knew Ellie had more experience than you, so it’s not worth rushing.

The licks after begin feeling much better against your skin. Ellie moaned a few times into your pussy, each noise making you gently rock yourself down against her mouth.

“Fuck—“

She pulls back, only by a centimeter. “Tastes like heaven.”

“Your tongue feels like heaven,” You reply. “It’s— it’s amazing—“

When she goes back in again, she begins to try different techniques. She creates a suction on your cunt while flicking her tongue against your clit. She also just kisses it, making out with it like she’d make out with you.

You told her you’d give her advice and yet, she didn’t need any. Everything she did just felt so fucking good.

“S’ good.” You drawl, rubbing your thigh against the side of her neck. “Want your tongue down there forever.”

Ellie’s own cunt throbs as she hears those words. She hums gently into your pussy, kissing it for a few more minutes before looking up at you.

“What else do you wanna try?”

You look around for a moment. “I— I was… well, I don’t know if you’d wanna.”

“Wanna what, baby?” She asks. “Tell me.”

“Could…” You sigh. “Could I sit on your face? You know what I mean, right? Not actually sit, but—“

She chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. But you could just sit on it, too.”

Ellie flips over so she’s on her back. You lean forward and crawl to where she is before scrunching your lips. “What if you couldn’t breathe?”

“Then I’d die happy,” She replies, giving two light taps on your ass. You take it as a signal to lower yourself down on her.

Something about having you on top of her flips a switch in Ellie. She begins absolutely devouring you like Thanksgiving dinner, arms caging you in so you can’t move away.

“Holy shit,” You grunt. Ellie continues to lap up your juices, licking and sucking them down.

You run your fingers through her sweaty hair. “Mm— fuck. That’s so good, Els. Feels so fuckin’ good.”

Ellie’s losing her mind at the praise. Her hand absentmindedly falls between her legs. She’s needy in the way she fingers her pussy, before getting an idea.

She reaches up and grabs your hand, then gently guides it towards her slick cunt. Unsure of what to do, you begin rubbing circles. It seems to work — Ellie’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she continues eating you out.

While Ellie sucks on your clit, you form a rhythm on hers. You try to stay consistent, but it’s hard to focus. You can feel a ball of pressure forming deep in your tummy.

“Ellie,” You groan out, using your other hand to stabilize yourself for support. “I— I think you might make me cum.”

Unconsciously, you grind down on Ellie’s tongue. Your hand remains on her clit as she reaches down and begins pumping her fingers in and out of her hole.

“Cum for me, baby.” She mumbles against your cunt. “Wanna taste it.”

“Yeah?” You whine.

You weren’t sure what made you say your next words, or where it even came from, but it comes out while you’re riding her face.

“Gonna— gonna be a good girl ‘nd make me cum?”

“Fuck, yes,” She grunts, palm tightening around your ass.

Hearing you talk like that instantly makes her a thousand times wetter. She begins sucking on your clit more ferociously as you move your hand to push your hair out of your face.

“So good— you’re makin’ me feel so good, Ellie.” You mewl, feeding her reaction to your words. “This pussy’s all for you. Nobody else.”

A guttural moan comes out from Ellie. You weren’t sure if the compliments were too much, or if she could breathe properly, but you noticed the way she was fingering herself became stronger and more sloppy.

She pulled you down into her mouth, eyes rolled back into her head while she continued to absolutely abuse your pussy with her tongue.

“Oh— J-Just like that,” You stutter. “Fuck— please— just like that, just like that—“

When you erupt on her tongue, you feel unsteady. Your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably as your face scrunches up in pleasure. But Ellie keeps a firm hold on you, relishing in the way you tremble under her touch. She gets off soon after, tightening and pulsing around her own two fingers.

She gets in a few more kisses with your pussy before speaking. “Shit, baby.”

You giggle, letting out a deep breath. “That was… really hot.”

“You’re really hot,” She says, looking up at you and planting one last kiss on your clit. You blush.

“Didn’t know what I was missing out on.” You murmur, climbing off of her. “I… I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”

Ellie thinks for a moment before sitting up. She smiles. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too.” You reply.

You lean in once more, placing another kiss on her lips before turning her cheek and kissing her, there, too. Ellie grabs your hand and presses her lips to the back of it.

“My sweet girl.” She whispers. “I’m so glad I could make you mine.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ellie williams

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hispg · 5 months

Text

Longing for love

Pairings: R2! Leon X Fem! Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, and your childhood friend wants to make it special.

Wc: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, loss of virginity (both sides), pet names, soft sex, making out, slight oral( f receiving).

An: I know I promised I'd post this last week, but this week I was feeling down about writing anything. Just as I haven't replied to asks or comments, I'll probably reply to them tonight.

I don't know what happened, I had so much to write and ended up writing almost nothing. Anyway, I'll try to finish what I've already got half-written and try to post it over the next few days!

I really hope this bad mood passes soon, and I thank you all for your love. 🫶🏻

It was a special day, your birthday. You had nothing special planned, nothing other than lying in the comfort of your bed watching some series on your laptop.

Even though you had told your childhood friend, Leon, that you didn't want anything special today, he refused to accept it.

It was your birthday, how could he pass it up? Even though he didn't have the best financial conditions in the world, he spared no expense in giving you a shiny necklace with a heart as a pendant.

If it were up to him, he would give you anything you asked for. Because he thought you deserved all the best the world could offer.

And here he was, spoiling you with sweet, wet kisses, holding you down on the bed while he gave your forehead one last kiss before whispering:

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" You'd lost count of how many times he'd asked you that during the night.

You knew he could get you anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask.

"No, Lee..." You said softly, clutching and snuggling into him.

He nodded, tangling his fingers in your hair and playing with the strands, holding you so close to him that the two of you had your bodies pressed together.

The bed seemed so cozy for both of you, the covers that were wrapped around your bodies as the two of you exchanged these light caresses.

You couldn't have been happier on your birthday, cuddling up to him while the gentle rain fell outside.

Leon felt his heart flutter every time he saw you all dolled up in a light purple dress, looking like a princess. Wearing your prettiest earrings, glossy lips that had left a raspberry taste in his mouth that made him keep licking his lips because of it.

"You know... I saw a dress..." Leon begins, and you already know where this is going to end.

He always says he sees something that reminds him of you, and every time he ends up bringing it as a present for you, with the excuse that you'd look perfect wearing what he's bought.

"Leon, you don't have to..." You whisper, kissing him on the lips.

He closed his eyes with a soft smile, pressing you a little closer against him.

"But I'd love to..." He says with that cocky smile you already know well.

You giggle, kissing his cheeks several times. He always got frustrated and embarrassed when you did this, his cheeks getting hot from the act.

But he'd be lying if he said he didn't love it every time you showered him with kisses. The feel of your lips on his skin was something he would never forget.

Without even realizing it, he gripped your hips a little harder, getting goosebumps when your breasts grazed his chest from how close you were to him.

Once you'd finished what you'd started, the proud smile plastered across your face.

"Why are you blushing?" You asked with mischief and sweetness in your voice, biting your lip as you looked at him.

You watched his lips come together and press, a sketch of a pout there. His eyes locked with yours, his arms wrapped around your waist.

God, how could he resist that? How could he resist you?

He swears he was trying to ignore the situation, trying to ignore the way you were so close to him, your warm body crashing against his.

Maybe he was being daring, but he took the opportunity a step further, placing a light kiss on your neck. Letting his lips linger there for a few moments.

The response that came from you pleased him, he heard your breathing hitch, your chest descend and rise more visibly. He knew you liked it.

"Maybe I want something..." You whispered, looking at him with a certain shyness.

You knew that the two of you had already crossed the line into friendship, not least because you doubted that friends kissed or got that close. But when he looked at you in such a sweet way, something in you melted.

"Say... I can give you anything you want..." He whispers, lightly caressing your cheeks.

You bite your lip, leaning your forehead against his once more, and soon the sweet words are coming from your lips:

"A kiss?" It wasn't the first time you'd kissed, but the way you asked for it this time, so sweetly, the smile was kind of drawn on your face.

Who was Leon to say no?

"Whatever you want, princess." That's all he said before kissing you.

It started in a loving and gentle way, his lips moving against yours in sync, his fingers caressing your waist with affection and delicacy.

Your hands wrapped in his hair as his tongue traced your lower lip, asking for passage into your mouth. And you didn't deny it.

You don't know how it happened, or how a simple make out session turned into languid, sloppy kisses, his hands grabbing every bit of skin he could find, not wasting a single precious second to touch you.

And before you knew it, he was on top of you, his hands slowly coming down to hold your hips. And knowing how far this was going to go, you didn't try to do anything to stop it.

In the blink of an eye he had already taken off your dress, his lips trailing down your neck as he grasped the waistband of your panties, taking no time to remove them at once.

His eyes went wide once you were naked in front of him, his cock aching from the rush of seeing you like this.

"Can I...?" All he wanted was your permission to continue or to stop, it was up to you.

You nodded shyly, letting him do whatever he wanted.

And that was all he needed to continue. He moved his face down to your belly, kissing softly and sweetly across your skin, leaving no part untouched. He was so anxious that he could barely think straight, the only thing he wanted to feel was what it would be like to be inside you.

So he needed to prepare you, right? And once he saw how wet you were already getting with just a few kisses, it wasn't long before he thought of a solution to get you soaking wet.

His hands gripped your thighs, you could tell he was as nervous as you were. The blush on his cheeks, the way he was biting his lower lip to hold back the sounds he might make at the sight of you in this situation.

He'd never seen you naked like this, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined this situation multiple times.

But now that you were here in front of him, it was a completely different story.

Before you could look at him, you felt his warm lips on your thighs, giving you light, wet kisses.

As if he was afraid and apprehensive of making any moves, he had never done that in his life, he was just following what he thought was right, maybe he could call it instinct or something.

His warm, soft lips gave you goose bumps, made your body shudder under his body, you gasped and arched your body gently.

His every touch was capable of making your thoughts go blank and you forget the world around you, as if nothing else mattered. Just the two of you there.

He also couldn't stop salivating once he saw your wet folds, the state he'd managed to leave you in with just a few kisses and caresses. Your throbbing pussy almost begging for him, a sight that sent an electrifying pulse to his hard cock.

You held back from moaning when you felt his hot breath against your sex.

It wasn't long before you were shuddering at his touch, the way he was so delicate as he planted kisses in your folds, he was so tender that it was simply attractive to watch. His blue eyes staring at you, just to make sure you were comfortable with it all, and that you wanted it as much as he did.

As soon as he saw that you were ready for him, he began to undress. In a hurried and clumsy way he took off his clothes, throwing them into a corner of the room.

You were mesmerized by his body, strong and muscular, so defined that you could salivate just looking at it.

Once again he was lying on top of you, his lips pressed to yours in a hot kiss.

You only heard him fisting himself a little, before he began to guide his tip into your entrance. You knew from the kiss he was giving you that he wanted to make you focus only on him, making you as comfortable as possible.

So he slowly entered you, calmly and patiently, all the while asking you if it was okay and if he could continue. The situation was new and strange for both of you, so reluctance was more than normal.

Once he had sunk into you, he could have sworn to God that he was holding back from cumming, the sensation of your warm, wet walls was more than enough to finish him off.

But he held on, held on and tried his best to stop the thoughts of simply exploding inside you here and now.

And he hovered over you, simply rigid on top of you, just as his hard cock didn't move an inch from where it was.

He felt your discomfort, the way you hissed a little when he put it in, and if you were being honest, it stung considerably.

He stood still, that is until you both got used to the foreign feeling.

But even then, he kept giving you soft kisses on the cheek, whispering sweet nothings to help you relax.

"I love you so much..." He whispered sweetly in your ear, giving the area light kisses and licks.

You moaned softly at his touch, instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips, entwining with him in such an erotic and intimate way.

And in yet another of his gestures, he entwined his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly as he gazed at you with those gentle blue eyes.

It was a gaze so tender, so loving, a gaze that was reserved for you, only you.

"You can move..." You say softly, looking at him shyly.

He gets the message, and slowly starts to move, in a shallow and calm way, he had no intention of rushing things.

Not least because he could see how nervous you were, or how much your pussy clenched around him, even though he had stimulated you, had prepared you to loosen up more.

"So tight..." He moans softly, giving your lips a gentle kiss.

The way he was so tender, so tenuous as he thrust into you, he didn't even move much, just enough to cause a little friction.

Not least because he didn't even know what you liked at those times, it was two inexperienced lovers learning at once.

"Lee..." You call softly, gently biting your lower lip as you look at him.

Surely he noticed the way your hips began to move against his, as if your body knew exactly what to do in this situation.

He took this as a green light, and began to pick up the pace, still making a point of giving you kisses and caresses all over your body.

You felt your mind getting so heavy, his cock reaching places so deep, points so sensitive that you couldn't even imagine.

It was all so good, certainly better than you imagined.

In one swift movement he removed one of his hands from yours, moving down your belly until he reached your crotch, where he stopped respectfully. Not wanting to do anything without your permission.

"Is it okay if I....?" He asked, placing his index finger next to your clit.

He wanted to know what you liked, what felt good, and he was going to start here. With your bundle of nerves.

"Y-yes... Please." You asked in a sly voice, and he could even see the pout that formed on your lips.

He smiled against your neck, giving the area a hickey, leaving a small mark. And then there was his thumb, smoothing over your clit, making small, delicate circles on the sensitive flesh, making you roll your eyes and moan louder with each movement.

He eased off when he felt you loosening up more, and with that he understood that he could increase the speed of his hips, and so he did.

Now the dirty, wet sounds echoed through the room, his heavy balls slapping against you and making that characteristic skin-on-skin noise.

But neither of you cared, so lost in that moment that the least of your problems was the profanity that came out of your mouths in the form of words.

Your heavy breaths came together as one, in the purest of synchronies. He was close, and so were you.

But as far as he was involved, your pleasure came first, so he would hold back as long as he could so that you would come first.

"Leon... I think I'm going to cum." You say in a low moan, feeling a new sensation forming in the pit of your stomach.

Your walls squeezing so tightly around him, and him trying his best to hold back. With a strangled groan you felt your hot fluid pouring out of you, your body arching and crashing against his as you came.

It was enough to send him over the edge too, and he almost didn't take his cock out of you, he was so lost in your expression of ecstasy that he forgot he wasn't wearing a condom.

He even thought about cumming in your belly, but was genuinely apprehensive of making a mistake and making a mess. So he pulled out of you, fisting himself and cumming on the sheets. Moaning and grunting as his cum spurted onto the silk sheets.

You were both tired from the recent orgasm, and he took the opportunity to lie on top of you and hold you close.

"On your belly next time?" He asks softly, a shy, mischievous smile appearing on his lips.

You smile, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks with your hands, hugging him as he relaxes on top of you.

"Yes, next time." You whisper, closing your eyes and storing the moment in your memory.

You couldn't have hoped for anyone better to lose your virginity to, and for sure, Leon couldn't have had anyone better either.

You can believe it was your best birthday.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #re leon #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon re2

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bandgie · 6 months

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I need a part two to that choking channie fic pleasseeee I begggggg

a/n: it's been a week and I cannot come up with the plot for the life of me. but imma write and see where it takes me :p (part 1)

warnings: MDNI 18+, confessions and sex ya know

3.2k words

You have to bite on your lips to keep yourself from smiling. The green-haired man looks like he's seen a ghost as he spots Chris's neck covered in bruises. They're not pretty ones either, mixes of purple and black wrapped like a necklace around his throat.

"A fight with who?" Felix leans forward in his seat as he hears Chris's explanation.

"Some dude just jumped me I dunno," Chris looks down and awkwardly rubs his neck. "Tried taking my wallet."

You take a sip of your drink, trying to do anything as a distraction to keep from laughing. The tip of Chris's ears are red, his lips are shiny from how many times he's licked them, and he can't stop fiddling with his hands. All clear signs that he's lying, or that something's up at the very least. However, it was just Felix who joined you two at the cafe, and he was none the wiser.

Chris and you were supposed to talk about the other night. If it was a drunken mistake or a heat-in-the-moment decision. Felix, god bless his soul, invited himself. Even if his presence wasn't needed, or even wanted, it felt good to have someone familiar with you two. It made the atmosphere lighter rather than discussing sex like a business meeting.

Felix sips on his sugary drink and places the cup down. "Did you call the police?"

"I uhh," Chris's eyes briefly meet yours then back to Felix. "I didn't. I was trying to get out of there."

"Do you remember what he looks like?" His friend can't help but try and pry for more information. "Maybe they could make a sketch or something." You can't help but smile at Felix's persistence. Chris keeps sneaking you looks as a way to ask for help, but you like watching him struggle.

"It was dark." Now that's a good excuse. "Couldn't see a whole lot. And honestly, I don't wanna remember it, freaks me out ya know?"

Felix nods rapidly, understanding. "No, I get it. I don't think I would ever be able to leave my house again. I'm sorry that happened to you, man. If you ever need anything, just let me know."

Chris nods and thanks his friend, a pink shade over his cheeks.

It's not until an hour later that Felix takes his leave. He thanks you both for the company and heads out the door, leaving you two. You erupt into giggles the moment Felix is out of view. "What kind of thief chokes someone like that?"

Chris smiles bashfully, eyes twinkling in a mixture of delight and embarrassment. "I panicked! What else was I supposed to say?" This makes you laugh more, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "I dunno! Maybe the truth?"

Your suggestion makes Chris choke on his coffee. He coughs and reaches for a napkin, dabbing his face. "Fuck no. I'd rather die." He clears his throat and sets the used tissue aside. "I don't think you'd be cool with me telling everyone what we did."

What we did. He makes his sound so scandalous, so wrong. A secret meant for the two of you. And he's right, that's something you wouldn't want to share. Memories flood in from that night, how his skin felt underneath your fingertips and how soft his lips were. You have to force yourself to reach for your drink and take a gulp. The ice numbs your hands for a moment, a stark contrast to how hot Chris felt that night.

"That's fair. Plus I don't think they'd wanna know how you creamed your pants." You say, putting the drink down. Chris's eyes nearly pop from their socket. He covers his face with his hands and groans, "Don't remind me."

His reactions amuse you, and you smile mischievously. "Nah, I think I will. Weren't you begging to cum inside me? Something like 'I don't wanna cum in my pants! You. I wanna cum in you.' No?"

Chris makes a strangled noise, half-shamed and half a warning. "There are people here." You sigh, finally deciding to grant Chris a break. There's a tense silence that hangs over you two. Reciting Chris's desperate moments reminds you of why you've come to the cafe.

His confession.

Fuck, it would be so much easier if Felix just stayed. Neither of you would have to talk about it today, or if at all. Maybe you could just go back to your normal lives where everyone's friends, and nothing more. It's better to live in blissful ignorance than face reality, but it would only be a matter of time before that facade would break.

You clear your throat, "Did you mean it?"

Chris keeps his eyes on his drink playing with the lid, "Mean what?"

"That you love me."

He pops the lid off from the pressure. His hands shakily grab it and place it on the cup, snapping it back into place. "Of course I do. I always tell you that."

Now he's just playing dumb. Rather than seeming shy only minutes ago, there's a nervous air around him. He's unsure of himself and of what you might think. Chris regrets ever opening his mouth, he regrets playing that stupid game.

At the same time, he's glad he did. All those sleepless nights thinking of you changed from physical to something more. Something intimate in ways he didn't dare think about. He doesn't dream of your violent hold, he dreams of your soft one. Not the way your hands wrap around his neck, but how they could intertwine with his hands.

You sigh again, shaking your head. "Chan, that's not the type of love I'm talking about. Can you be honest with me? Please?"

How can he say no to that? Chris finally looks up at you. He wiggles in his seat as if his uncomfortable state comes from his seating position. He opens his mouth and closes it again. He sighs and attempts again, but all that comes out are small squeaks and groans.

Lie. He can hear his insecurity talking. Both of you were drinking, it was just a mistake.

"I..."

Even if it wasn't, would she really be okay being with a friend? What if she grows bored of me? What if I have nothing to give other than my body?

That can't be true. Why else would you be here? Sitting patiently, watching Chris struggle internally with himself. There's no judgment on your face, no anger or disgust as you wait. If you didn't want to know Chris's true feelings, you wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"Honestly, I've loved you for a long time now." He said it. There, he did it. His heart beats quickly in his chest, it feels like it might explode. Chris needs to spit it out before his adrenaline runs out. "I don't know when I don't think there was like...a specific moment when I knew. But I know now, and I just...really really love you. Like a lot. I'm sorry that…" he takes a breath. "I'm sorry that you found out so...weirdly. But yeah... So yeah. Sorry"

You blink a few times, trying to remember how to speak. "Don't," you shake your head. "Don't be sorry. It was a little weird finding out that way, but it's nothing to apologize for. I never thought you'd think of me that way."

Chris cocks his head to the side, "Why not?"

Being put on the spot makes your stomach churn, but it's only fair you experience the same feeling Chris did moments ago. "Oh, you know. I'm just me." You play with the near-empty cup in your hands. "I don't think there's much to me. I just don't get why someone like you would be interested."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah," you sit up straighter in your seat. "You're so...beautiful. Inside and out." Chris squirms from the compliment, but it makes you smile. "You are! Chan, you really are. I don't think you get how good of a person you are. Knowing that a soul like yours likes mine is unbelievable."

Chris can't take the consistent praise. He turns red, "What kind of a good person likes being choked?"

You throw your head back and laugh, thankful for the comedic break in tension. "Hey, I never said you weren't a freak." Chris returns the laugh, his eyes mirroring moon crescents as he smiles at you. It feels good, even if you wanted to run and hide in the beginning, to be open with him. Someone you've befriended for years, someone you trust.

Someone who could quite possibly be your lover.

"But seriously," you go back to your serious tone. "You are...amazing."

You can tell Chris wants to deflect, to tell you that you're wrong. But he silences his nagging voice and nods, "Thank you. You're not too bad yourself."

"Ah, I'd hope not," you beam at him. "So when are you gonna ask me out?"

The sudden boldness makes Chris jump, a nervous laugh escaping him. "I...You want me to?" He's surprised to see you look excited as you nod, biting your lower lip, "Yup." You add on after a few beats. "To turn you down of course."

He laughs again, though it's more relaxed. "Guess I have no choice then." Chris chews on his lower lip, debating on how to begin.

He decides to start with your name. "...Will you be my girlfriend now until the unseeable future?"

You giggle at his dramatization, "Absolutely. You still want to cum inside me?"

"Oh absolutely."

ꨄꨄꨄ

Neither of you make it back to his place. All it took was Chris to place his hand on your thigh and it was over. He had pulled over somewhere on the side with no lights before turning the car off. The sound of the engine dying was replaced by the wet sound of your lips meeting.

You don't think there's any way you could get over how nice Chris feels against you. Even if the backseat is crowded, it only creates the golden opportunity to be flush against his broad chest. the position is familiar with you on top, but everything feels entirely different.

Chris isn't scared to touch you this time, he doesn't hold back moaning into your mouth when you grind on his cock, and he absolutely cannot shut up about how much he's wanted this.

"If you make me cum my pants again, I think imma lose it." His hips buck into yours to chase the pressure. You decide that you don't want that either and lift your hips just enough for Chris to shimmy his pants down and pull his cock from his boxers.

It's already dripping, red at the tip, and twitching uncontrollably. He gives himself a few pumps, but you quickly smack his hand away almost offendedly.

"That's my job," you huff. Chris only smiles when you look down to dribble spit on his cock, grabbing the base before stroking it upwards. His smile falters into a look of pleasure, eyebrows knitting together. He groans when you slide your thumb over his slit, collecting his early release.

Your hips mimic your hand movements as if you're riding him. The desire pooling in your stomach stains your underwear and leaks down your thighs. You can't help yourself as you bring the head of his cock to your clothed core, tapping it against your cunt.

Chris's arousal leaves wet strings where his cock and your cunt meet. He gives your lips a final kiss before looking down at your soiled underwear and his flushed dick. "Fuck," he moans. "That's so hot. How wet are you?"

Rather than telling him, you pull your underwear to the side to show. The interior lights of the car show your glistening cunt, how your pussy's swollen and dripping. Chris groans at the sight, moving a hand from your waist to touch you. He rubs his fingers in circles and dips them down, collecting your arousal and smearing it on your engorged clit.

"I'm so wet," you finally answer in a breathy voice. "I need it in me bad." Chris lifts his head to meet your eyes darkened in arousal. His lips quirked upwards in a smirk, "Yeah? How bad?" You place his tip onto your bare cunt, sliding his fat head up and down yourself. "Don't make me beg," you tut. "That's your job."

Chris laughs and nods, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're right. Let me feel that pretty pussy baby."

You kiss him back in response, keeping your lips lazily on his as your guide his cock low enough to catch your entrance. You angle your hips higher and slowly sink down. Chris rubs soothing circles on your clit to help with the stretch. He knows his cock can be rather unbearable in the beginning.

But it feels so good to have him open you up. Even if it leaves a slight burning sensation in your pussy, you like fucking yourself with just his tip. If you're not careful, you could cum just like this. It would be easier, just clenching around his head and letting his hand play with your folds. But the thought of creaming around his entire length encourages you to sink further down.

Chris's hand falters at your cunt. He closes his eyes and sighs as you take more inches of him. He moans and tilts his head back, shivering when you've fully seated on him.

His exposed bruised neck sends shivers down your spine. It's like he's begging for you to mark him more, to put his entire self in your hands. Your hands trail up to his torso, his chest, before reaching his throat. You can not only see but feel how his breath catches in his throat. He peeks an eye open to see what you'll do.

Against your better judgment, you tighten your grip around his neck as you pick your hips up. His girth slides out of you a few inches more sliding back down. Chris's throat acts as leverage as you fuck yourself on him.

He hums under you, making your fingers vibrate. His hands grip the fat of your ass, squeezing and trying to get you to ride faster. "Fuck me baby," he grunts out. "Use my cock." Chris's raspy voice sends shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you pick up your pace. Hips slamming on his in wet consecutive slaps as you fuck yourself on him. A particular thrust of Chris makes you whine. He hit the deepest parts of you roughly, a tingling sensation spreading throughout your lower half.

"Fuck," you gasp out. One of your hands moves down to his shoulder for better grip. You lean back slightly to force Chris's length to hit that gummy spot you swear has your pussy seeing stars.

The material of your shirt does little to conceal your breasts that bounce beneath. Chris's eyes lock onto the sight, and he moves his hands from your waist to underneath your bra. His fingers find your pebbled nipple easily and he tugs at it.

Your hips still for a moment as he gives attention to your chest and he takes this opportunity to fuck up into you harder.

Chris quickly grabs the bottom of your shirt and lifts it to your mouth.

"Bite."

You obey immediately, and Chris goes to work spilling your tits from your bra. He watches as your mounds move with the motion of your hips. You can see his tongue poke out hungrily, but he makes no move to bury his face in your chest. It doesn't take a genius to find out why though, and you finally release his neck from your grip to reach for the headrest from the front.

Chris's lips instantly find your tits, tongue licking and swirling around your bud. His hands return to your hips and he leans forward to get better access to where you both connect. You can hear him panting just below your chin, the grunts and groans as he holds your nipple between his teeth.

Your legs wrap around his lower back now that they have room to move, and you bring him closer.

"Imma cum," it's a muffled, weak voice you announce in, but Chris only finds it endearing. He pops off your breasts with a wet smack! and looks up at you, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Yeah? Gonna cum all over my fat cock?" You nod mindlessly, the hand on his shoulder reaching up to pull on his hair. "You promith to cum in me Chan? Pleath I need you to cum inthide me."

Chris laughs at your slurred, muffled speech, "Of course, I promise baby." To make a point, he starts lifting your weight off his cock before slamming you back down. You cunt quivers and drools over him and the car, but you only spread your legs more to give him a better entrance.

Now that Chris can use you like a fleshlight properly, you trail your hand from the back of his head to your dipping folds to rub and flick. He feels your walls squeeze from your ministrations, and he moans in your neck. You have to keep your back arched so it doesn't hit the middle console, but Chris does most of the work by keeping you somewhat upright.

"Gonna cum in your tight pussy. Mmm, gonna give it to you all."

His announcement makes you tighten around him, your pussy locking him in so nothing drips out. "Fuck yesh," you bite into your shirt harder in anticipation. The increasing tingling sensation builds into warmth pooling your belly. All you can feel is constant pressure and how your shirt has started collecting your drool.

Your legs snap against Chris's waist and your hips try to escape his relentless thrusts when you cum. It's overwhelming and blinding, but Chris keeps a harsh grip on your hips when you try to twist away. You can't even play with your clit from how sensitive you got, and you use that wet hand to push against his chest.

The material between your teeth falls, and you hear Chris tsk in feigning disappointment. It takes too much energy to even speak, let alone hold something between your teeth. All you can manage are breathless moans and pathetic mewls.

Chris's own high isn't too far behind you. He groans at the hotness in your cunt, the way he can feel your orgasm leaking onto his cock. Your walls are unbelievably soft and slick. Relaxed enough to let Chris fuck you as he pleases while maintaining a tight embrace that he pumps his cum in.

His arousal floods your pussy along with consecutive moans. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he stills his hips. Chris's deep grunts combined with his high-pitched squeaks make you whine in return.

Then he pumps slowly but with harsh thrusts. It makes your body jolt and tighten, shivering from his warm cum and how he fucks it deeper inside of you. Chris lifts his head to look at your drooly lips, then your hazy eyes.

He hums with satisfaction at your fucked out expression and kisses you passionately. It's a stark contrast to his cock that's pouring his seed into you relentlessly. Your lips cave and your head falls slightly back from the weight of the kiss.

Chris licks alongside your bottom lip, mixing your salvias'. He wants to ensure he shares every part of himself with you. Down to the spit he mingles in your mouth to the sticky slick between your thighs. A reminder that he's yours, and you're his.

Now, until the unseeable future.

a/n: if you read this then I love you and I really wanna give you head jkjkfj but here's the 2nd part hope ya liked iittttt

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ddejavvu · 10 months

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE can we get reader being harassed by some guy in an alleyway and hotch is walking by with the team (perhaps going to get drinks after wrapping up a case) AND HE LIKE STEPS IN AND THREATENS THE GUY?? MAYBE EVEN FLASHES HIS BADGE OR SM. Basically I'm thirsty for some protective!hotch <3

You're reminded of how unpredictable life can be when you're yanked backwards unexpectedly, tugged into the darkness of a shadowed alley between two buildings. Five seconds before you'd been thinking about dinner, and now you're not sure you'll live to see another meal.

"Cash," The man grunts, his mouth pressed to your ear as his arm cuts tight around your neck, "I need cash."

"My- my bag," You whimper, frozen stiff in fear and rendered useless, "I- I don't have much, but you- you can take it."

He throws you forwards, ripping your bag off of your shoulder in one fluid motion. He rifles through it while you relearn the art of breathing, but before he can pull your measly collection of bills from the inside pocket of your wallet, there's a gun over your shoulder pointed at his head.

For a moment, you're so dazed that you honestly think you might be holding it. But you don't have a gun, and your wrist doesn't have the dark, wiry hair on it that you see beneath a grey sleeve of whoever's got the weapon.

"Drop the purse, and the knife." A voice booms through the alleyway, deep and firm. If it was directed at you, you'd spook like a horse, and your assailant looks properly terrified.

"It's just a little cash, man," Your attacker tries, "I- I know her! She's my girlfriend."

Your savior knows he's lying before you shake your head vigorously, but you do it anyways, because sitting there and doing nothing feels wrong.

"You've already assaulted someone in front of a federal agent, don't make it worse for yourself by lying about it, too. You're lucky I don't have my cuffs with me or I'd haul you into the back of my SUV and take you down to the station right now. Instead, you're going to drop the purse, and the weapon, and run as fast as you can, because the more time you sit there and let me look at you, the better my chances are of describing you to a sketch artist and placing a warrant out for your arrest."

By the middle of the man's speech, your attacker is trembling just as much as you are. He drops your bag and his knife on command, barely avoiding tripping over the edge of the gutter drain as he flees the scene.

As soon as the gun isn't necessary anymore, the man behind you stashes it in a holster, but you can't see, your back feels permanently adhered to the wall you'd backed up against.

"You're okay," The man assures you, and his voice is much more soothing at a softer tone. He bends to gather your purse, tucking a tube of chapstick back into its confines before holding it out as a peace offering to you.

"He's gone," He promises, ducking down where your eyes are stuck to peer worriedly at you. He has a handsome face, but it's pinched in concern, big brown eyes dripping with care, "And I will put that warrant out for his arrest. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No," You breathe, still pressed to the wall even as you shake your head, "No, he- Thank you, I- I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I usually show up to these things a little late," He grimaces, dropping your purse back down to his side and holding out an empty hand instead, "Can I help you get where you were going?"

"Home." You mutter, "I was- I was going home. After work."

"I can drive you there, if you'd like." He offers, pleased when you reach out with a shaky hand to take his own, "Or we can walk, whichever you prefer. I just want to make sure nothing else happens."

"Um, I- I can pay for a ride. Here," You take your purse back, tugging a bill out that you're lucky to still possess, "If- it's just down the street, if you really don't mind."

"Keep it," He pushes your hand back towards your purse, "I just stopped a guy from taking your money, I'm not gonna do the same. My car's right outside, okay? Let me help you there. And- uh," He rifles through his jacket, "I wasn't lying about being an agent." He showcases a black-covered badge, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner written in bold lettering beneath his name, "You'll be safe with me."

"Okay," You nod, accepting the hand that he holds your arm with to ease you off of the wall and onto your shaky legs, "Uh, thank you, Agent- Hotchner."

"No need." He murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd to make sure there's no sign of your assailant, "Let's just get you home safe, honey."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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m4lexxx67 · 2 months

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I did it, I'm done!!! I finished what is probably one the coolest projects I have ever done and it turned out SO COOL, I'm so excited!!! Everyone come look at it cause I made a fucking killjoys shirt collection!!!

Everyone of the Fab Four got their own type of shirt that I think fits them and they're all the same concept (logo on the back, name in the front, most of the design in their color plus some smaller detail in another color that's kind of in their pallet (taken from their ray guns), words associated with the character) but the font and placement of the writing changes and all that and I really love that they obviously belong together but still look so different!

Also fun fact it took fucking FOREVER to paint Ghoul cause it's sooo many lines and painting lines takes so much time cause you can't just carefully draw a sharp edge and then quickly fill in the rest (like for example Jet's logo) because basically everything is edge! And the design for Kobra's name? Such a pain in the ass, there's so many sketches that were all scrapped. Like in total it took me maybe one and a half to two hours to come up with all of the designs, except for Kobra's stupid fucking name, I kept going back to it for literal weeks!! But honestly so worth it, it turned out exactly as I wanted and just all in all feels very Kobra to me

(As for the different shades of blue/green on Jet's and Ghoul's shirts... The shirts have been done for a while and were lying around my room without being folded or anything, so that's just folds and light reflections, the colors are actually very even)

#I had so much fun making these but I'm also really happy they're done now #I spent two weeks on these (there were several days where I did nothing tho) that's fucking enough #worth it tho #id in alt text #my art #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #diy #mcr merch #party poison #jet star #fun ghoul #kobra kid #tagging a lot today cause I'm really proud of these and I kind wanna show them off and share my excitement

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sardonic-the-writer · 11 months

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𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: poor girl—x

↳ notes: a special for my friend @no-interest-rightnow !!! go show them some love. this is shit but i wanted to get it out fast

masterlist!

• World Tour is a pain in the ass for Alejandro

• As much fun dealing with Owen and the rest of his team is, he gets tired keeping up appearances all the time

• Or, as he would more accurately say, "being charming all the time has its downsides."

• Time spent venting in the confessional can only get him so far

• And as more and more episodes stretched by, Alejandro comes to realize he liked being around you of all people

• You were one of the more sane ones on this season compared to the likes of Izzy and Sierra

• At first, he has a hard time figuring you out. What made you tick and all that. How he could get you to fall for him, just to end up pushing you out the plane's door to the ground below

• But you were always so quick to turn down his advances, opting for your own corner of, well, whatever it is you do

• The closest Alejandro ever came to unearthing more about you was when he caught you doodling on your arm in pen

• "And what do we have here?" He had grinned down at you, hands on his hips as he watched your eyes dart up to look at him

• "Uhm. Me?" You deadpanned, not even bothering to stop what you were doing

• He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that

• After a bit of awkward silence you had sighed and patted the wooden seat next to you. Apprehensive, Alejandro sat down

• It took a minute, but he went on to learn why exactly you had signed up for this show—even sharing a bit of his personal life with you

• Maybe it was the fact that was the first normal conversation he'd had in weeks, but Alejandeo didn't have as hard of a time opening up to you

• He even let you draw a smile face or two on his arm

• "Listen dude." You had said while doing it, not looking up from your sketching, "I know your game. It's smart, don't get me wrong. But try not to rope me into it okay? I don't crush easily."

• Alejandro just smiled

• "One thing about me is that I love a challenge." He smirked. You hit him in the head with your pen for that

• From then on he did his best to win you over. Offering to pose for your art, getting as close as possible to you at all times, etc. Alejandro wasn't lying when he said he enjoyed a challenge. It was a lot more fun that way

#total drama #total drama x y/n #total drama x you #total drama x reader #totak drama world tour #total drama worl tour x reader #tdwt #tdwt x reader #alejandro burromuerto #alejandro #alejandro x reader #alejandro x you #alejandro x y/n #x reader #headcanons

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zae-heeyyy · 16 days

Text

Pastiche

Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader Word Count: 2,345 Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur

a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.

You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it. He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.

"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.

Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.

"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.

"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.

You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.

He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."

You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.

"Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"

"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"

You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."

He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."

"I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."

"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.

Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?"

"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.

"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea.

"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you.

You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.

"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.

Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering.

"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside.

"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him.

Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.

Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.

Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame.

Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything.

"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.

"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."

He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself."

You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words.

"No, Arthur. No."

You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.

"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.

First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.

Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.

Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.

"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.

"Keep visiting Big Valley.

Keep writing.

Publish the book.

Watch every sunset.

Trust your gut.

Please, be happy."

You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.

You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them.

On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day.

You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."

#i like coming up with fancy words for titles #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #read dead redemption 2 photography #rdr2 photography #rdr2 #rdr2 community #Arthur Morgan x gn!reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan fan fiction #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan angst #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 fanfic #zaefic

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seasidefallenangel · 8 months

Text

drain. (kanata yatonokami)

The kitchen faucet is leaking.

It drips at the same pace for seconds, minutes, hours. You know this, and Kanata knows, and Nayuta as well, but the two act as if it doesn’t matter. They’re talking to one another about something you don’t really understand nor care to, not when the faucet is leaking. Your eyes follow every drop, and your hand tremors in tandem with it. They’re talking, they’re laughing, they’re happy. They’re happy. Even with that stupid faucet, they’re happy.

Jealousy isn’t the right word, because if you were to tell Kanata you were jealous of him in any way, shape, or form, he’d either be insulted or disgusted - or maybe a mixture of both. He’d see it as patronizing, he’d think you’re making fun of him, because how are you jealous of the guy who has nothing but Nayuta - (and you, but you’re not really sure you’re something to be happy about having at all.)

The faucet leaks and the drop is so loud in your ears that it covers the jovial laugh of Nayuta. You don’t hate him - far from it in fact. He reads Kanata better than you can, a translator of sorts for the few moments you can’t really read in between the lines of your boyfriend’s words. He gives good fashion tips, he knows a lot of underrated hang-out spots that he shows you, subtly hinting that his twin would enjoy it if you took Kanata on a date there, he tells you about cozmez’s childhood when Kanata is reluctant to. “I think you’re good for him,” Nayuta said to you one night. The two of you were on the couch in their apartment. Kanata had gone to pick up dinner, leaving you with his twin. Your skin crawls at Nayuta’s statement because you know he’s not a liar, which means he’s just stupid enough to believe his own words.

The faucet was leaking then too.

“Thanks,” comes your noncommittal mumble, not even bothering to look up from your phone when you answer him. Part of you feels guilty because Nayuta is, despite everything, a very sweet boy. He deserves better than your bitter responses, and his brother deserves better than you as a whole.

His eyes narrow and he sighs, absentmindedly sketching something on his notebook. The pencil scratches as he continues to speak, “Quit being so mopey. He wouldn’t stick around if he didn’t like you.” And well, he has a point. Kanata’s not a fan of lying, preferring to rip the band-aid off before the wound has even finished healing.

The faucet leaks and the sound reverberates through the walls. You feel your heart sinking with every drop, waiting for the flood to come coursing through. The present rings to the front of your mind once more as Kanata nudges you, quirking an eyebrow up at your silence. You didn’t even notice Nayuta leave, presumably to go meet up with Shiki. Normally you’d join in on the twins banter, but you can’t even pretend like the idea doesn’t make your lunch start to build up in your throat.

“Your faucet is leaking,” you say quietly, eyes glancing at the water that falls. His gaze follows yours before his face shifts into confusion. You could tell he thought that if that was the reason you were so quiet, it was weird at the best and stupid at the worst - and he probably had a point.

“... Usually does. ‘S not that big of a deal anyhow. Just ignore it.” His voice gets quieter towards the end, like the state of their apartment is something to be embarrassed of, like you’re judging him for it. You’re not, but you don’t think you could explain your reasoning for being so upset by the faucet. Your finger taps on the table, slowly speeding up the longer your mind lingers. “You should probably get it fixed.”

Confusion changes to annoyance. “I just said it doesn’t matter. Does it bother you that much?” It’s phrased like a snarky comment, but you can tell there’s something underlying there. If it really did bother you for some reason, if it made you upset, then he’d get it situated to appease you.

Well, you think it’s underlying. Maybe he is actually mad, maybe he can’t stand you.

The faucet leaks, and you’re rotting away inside. Because the faucet leaks but the twins don’t care, the twins have each other, they’re never alone, so much so that the leaking faucet doesn’t even matter to them. They don’t even notice it.

“It’s broken, Kanata.” The crack in your voice is piercing as the tears start welling in your eyes, and you feel pathetic. Who are you to cry in front of Kanata, the boy who had the world drag him to its core and he managed to claw his way to the surface? The faucet drops grow louder when he leans towards you, worry written on his features. It’s subtle in a way that makes you want to scream.

The chair scrapes as you shoot up from the table and over to the sink, hands gripping the rusty metal. Kanata follows behind, bewildered and hesitant because you’re not making any sense and you know it, but you can’t explain it. Because the sentence, “your family loves you so much that the small issues don’t matter” is stupid in theory, but brings you back to the same old place - the one where the faucet leaking was your fault, where the car door wide open in the rain was because of your incompetence, the dog not being fed, the light left on, the minor inconveniences that shouldn’t mean anything turned into screaming matches where your throat bled ; the house that wasn’t a home, but a building filled with strangers to one another, a stark absence of love.

A hand slowly reaches towards your wrist, bony fingers wrapping around it and tugging gently. Your vice grip on the faucet fails to loosen as the mantra of, “it’s broken, it’s broken,” falls from your lips without much thought.

“Cut it out,” he says gently. It’s not the scathing irritation you expected to hear, but rather a concerned request. You think you’d prefer the anger.

He pulls one more, and your hands let it go as you turn to face him with your head hung low. He’s no stranger to trap reactions and trauma which makes this hurt more, because now you’re sure he has an idea of what’s going on inside of you. It’s the worst scenario possible for him to see you as you are.

Your nails dig into your palms and you ignore the liquid rising to coat your fingers, head tilting up to give him a false smile as the metallic scent of blood begins to overwhelm your smell. “Sorry.” Your voice sounds foreign and strange. “I’m fine now.”

His eye twitches and his mouth curls into a frown. You want him to scream at you and to kick you out and tell you to go away forever, because at least the pain of being alone will cover the agony of childhood clutching your throat. But he does none of that - and instead does something decidedly worse.

“Maybe I hide shit sometimes, but I’m trying to be more honest with you. You’re not gonna do the same thing for me?” The hurt in his voice is hidden by false exasperation. You want to grasp him tight, so tight it hurts him and he can never abandon you and fill him with endless words of love. You want to push him away, disappear without a trace like he never met you so he could live without the weight of your burdens pulling him down.

One sniffle, two, before your head leans against his chest and the silent sobs overtake you. He grows stiff for a moment and you can see it in your head, when he pulls away and berates you, but the scene changes when he slowly wraps his arms around you. There’s a small hint of discomfort in his hug - an act so unfamiliar to him - but the part that gnaws at you is how good it feels to be held by him.

It doesn’t make sense, it never will, and to put all your anxieties into words seems impossible. But there’s no denying the love that seeps from his touch, and it’s as constriction as it is freeing. It’s scary to be known but even more terrifying to be concealed, and if Kanata is willing to subject himself to the shattered lifeform that is you, then maybe, just maybe, you can let him slip through the cracks.

#paradox live #paradox live x reader #paralive x reader #kanata yatonokami x reader #paralive #every time i come back i have something new im unwell over #anyway hes my favorite. thog don't caare #angst #scenarios

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alienve · 2 months

Text

Just noticed that the background of Vere’s drawings contain symbols of the LI, and maybe even some of their endings.

1. The crow feather (mhin cuz duh) but notice that it’s kinda directly on top of the plants, possibly symbolizing Leander b/c of the scene where he gives a makeshift flower to Mc OR could have something to do with the sewers being overridden by plants in the Amaryllis District. (lmao is that how you spell it??)

2. Top center you can see Leander’s knife thingy

3. Mid left is Ais’ bracelet, it’s also being covered by Mhin’s crown feather

4. The tea on top left (duh Vere) but it’s also green, I take this as it being bitter maybe? So maybe one of his meh endings

5. Mc’s key in top left corner (Could be Vere or Leander, maybe even both)

6. Kuras’ glass vials in bottom center

7. Kuras’ jewelry also at the top right ( so far he’s the only one to actually wear gold jewelry/trinkets)

7. Next to the vials is the nail file thingy and maybe what looks like a drawstring bag, have no clue and I’m probably grasping at straws but these could probably relate to background LI (Elyon and Sen)

8. The two rings overlapping each other at the top right corner of the page, possibly symbolizing marriage or some form and devotion

Also wanted to talk about the placement of some of these items starting with the rings

1. The rings are very close to the page, could argue this wouldn’t mean anything because the tea is also close to the page, but this just seems like normal placement (you have a refreshment while doing something a lot) but I think this placement is significant because it’s a continuity in the drawing of the LI Vere has done so far, meaning that the possibility of a romantic and whimsical ending is possible for all the LI

2. If Vere hates Leander so much, tf is his knife doing there? Bro really just out here stealing

3. The items directly placed on the page correlate to Leander, Kuras, and whoever tf that nail file belongs to

4. The lighting is very reminiscent of that one scene in the trailer when we’re introduced to Leander, suggesting he has a lot of significance to many of the LI’s fates, NOT to mention that his knife is the closest and directly in the source of the light

Then, there’s the condition of the paper and Vere’s teacup:

The paper is slightly ripped at the edge and wrinkled all around, as someone that is a serial eraser, this could mean he was either vigorously erasing previous sketches of Mhin, which makes sense because many of the sketches seem transparent, or that he’s low on paper and they’re in poor condition for age, but looking back at the bag, there seems to be a stack of paper in there, so?? I’m going with the serial eraser cuz that’s so real of him

And then there’s his dialogues of the sketches for Mhin and Kuras:

Mhin’s is more playful and teasing, while he doesn’t say anything for Kuras, there is mention that he was heavily bribed to draw him AND that the sketches of him were so crude that they were deserving of a whole other paper. I think this could translate to rightfully seeing Kuras as more of a threat than Mhin, and not wanting to piss him off ( as he already wants the mf dead) or that he truly does put his all in the drawings because of how much he enjoys handmade gifts and considers this such

That’s it fr (possibly lying)

*showing pictures sorry it’s out of order*

#touchstarved game #kuras #ais #leander #vere #kuras touchstarved #ais touchstarved #mhin #mhin touchstarved #serial eraser type shit #can we slander this man a lil more pls I love him

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yourpalmickeymouse · 15 days

Note

Hello Mickey! I’m back once more haha! (For a little while though 😅).

Just poppin’ by to ask, what’s your favourite hobby to do in your spare time? (When you are not in the department working on cases) I hear that you have a thing for planes (which I find fascinating! I would love to hear more if you are okay with it).

Anyway have a good day Mick! See you around!

-Sunny ☀️

(P.S my favourite hobby to do is. Well drawing! So I drew a pic of ya!) (sorry if it’s a little wonky hehe…😅)

🤯🤯🤯

Did you DRAW THAT!!! Oh Boy! That's Incredible!!! Thank you so much!!! I love it!!! Do you mind if I share it with all my friends? They would all love to see this! Can I take this home? I want to frame it on my wall...

Oh... Sorry 😅 I just got really excited. I wasn't expectin' to get a picture. I really appreciate it though!

Now for your question. I kinda have a ton of hobbies. I like to keep myself busy and learn new things.

You mentioned planes and yes I do very much love planes. I really love readin' up on 'em (as well as trains and boats). You could probably point to any plane in the world and I'll be able to tell you exactly what kind it is. When I was younger, my parents would take my to private airplane hangers and I would spend hours askin' the pilots about their planes. I actually met Colonel Doberman that way and we still keep in touch.

I also like to create little plane models in my free time too. Though I probably have way too many sets lying around my house. I kinda don't know where to put them all 😅 I dunno why I love planes so much. I guess I just always like the idea of bein' able to go anywhere in the world. The idea of having bein' able to see many amazin' things. I don't have my license, but I do want to get it someday.

Hm... I think some of my other favorite hobbies are the ones I do with friends. I love to fish, bowl, or play video games with Goofy or Donald if he visits. Minnie and I love to garden together. Sometimes Horace and I will work on fixer upper projects. Clarabelle and I will do some exercises and martial arts trainin'.

Oh! And someone on here recommended that I should spend some more time with Daisy and it turns out she's actually really into journalism, like I was. She currently runs her own online news site and we've been meeting up so that I could help her with the pictures. Her site's more focused on trends, fashion, and pop culture which normally isn't my thing, but has been fun to learn about. But she also covers important world events as well, which is more in my wheelhouse.

Also drawin' is a great hobby. Thank you again for the art. I also like to sketch things sometimes and even make comics, though I'm definitely not as good as you ha ha. Maybe I'll share them some day. But for now I'm happy with seein' all of the art you make 😊

- M.M.

#mickey mouse #askblog #answered #mickey and friends #mickey mouse and friends

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goosewriting · 1 year

Note

Maybe.. Mikey with scenario 28 please?i was thinking Mikey could be the one to have drawn the picture, but either way is fine by me :)

Stolen glances (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

scenario 28: A finding a hand-sketched photo of them on B’s desk.

summary: reader discovers Mikey’s drawings of them.

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: fluff all the way~

word count: ~720

A/N: finally one for mikey! this one was cute /v\ thanks for requesting!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

– – –

You were hanging at the turtle lair as per usual, having a movie night with the brothers and April. You were all setting up the mountain of blankets and pillows in front of the projector, when you remembered you left the snacks you brought in your backpack. You had spent the time earlier in Mikey’s room, so you had probably left it there.

Leaving the turtles you quickly made your way to the youngest brother’s room. You found what you were looking for on his bed, and quickly rummaged in it to fish out the snacks. You hummed to yourself in anticipation, looking forward to eating these. As you turned around, your elbow made contact with something on Mikey’s desk, and you heard some clattering.

For a second you thought you had spilled some liquid on his desk, which was usually filled with artwords, so you panicked, the food in your arms falling to the ground as you turned around. You sighed in relief when you saw that what you knocked over was a cup with pencils and brushes, but nothing wet.

As you were picking up what you had dropped, a drawing caught your eye. You looked over your shoulder at the door and listened for anyone approaching; nothing. Normally you wouldn’t snoop around, but you really admired Mikey’s artistic skills. Curiosity ended up winning the upper hand, and you left the snacks on the desk, picking up the small pile of drawings.

It was several artworks in graphite. You inspected each piece for a couple of seconds, then switched to the next one; some were still life studies of things lying around in the lair, others were landscapes you didn’t recognise. And then you were met with a drawing of you.

You blinked a couple of times in surprise, bringing the paper closer to your face and squinting slightly, concluding that it really was you. And not just once, but all remaining sketches were of you. They were all showing different expressions, many of which you didn’t even know you did. And yet you could recognise that he captured you perfectly, the slope of your nose, the small dimple when you smiled.

Realising that this meant Mikey looked at you quite often brought heat to your cheeks. You had been crushing on him for quite some time now, but had come to terms with not acting on it. However this changed things. What if… he also liked you? Would you have a chance with him?

You were looking at the next drawing, when you heard voices behind you.

“Hey, we’re about to start. What’s taking you so long-” Mikey asked, but froze when he saw what you held in your hands. Behind him, Leo peeked over his shoulder, going ‘ooh~ caught in 4K’.

“I- I’m so sorry!” you apologised, placing the drawings back on the desk and fidgeting with your hands. “I didn’t mean to snoop around, really! I came back for the snacks but then these caught my attention and, well…”

Mikey still had a shocked expression and didn't know what to do or say, his eyes going from you to the desk and back. Leo gave him a pat on the shell, then shot you a smug grin.

“Little bro here looks at you a lot when you’re not looking, you know~” and with that he quickly turned around, evading Mikey’s swat, and skipped back to the projector room giggling.

“Is… Is that true?” you asked the orange clad turtle once Leo was out of ear-shot. You could have sworn Mikey’s cheeks were starting to burn up.

“Well, yeah…” he said and scratched his neck. “You’re really pretty. How could I not?”

“Well, if you had asked” you started, feeling the confidence bubbling up in you. “I could have posed properly for you.”

Mikey didn’t respond, instead just looked at you, trying to read between the lines if you were saying what he thought you were saying. As he was about to answer, you heard the other turtles calling from the projector room, hurrying you to go back so they could start the movie.

“Let’s watch the movie for now” you said and picked up the snacks yet again. “Later we can arrange something.”

“It’s a date then” Mikey said with a wink, making your heart flutter.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz

#goose feathers #500 goslings event #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #tmnt x reader #michelangelo x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018

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squipdop · 2 months

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HIIIII CAN I ASK ABOUT THE SIX YEARS LATER AU???

Howd they bring up the junior scouts idea to max??? Was he like Whatever sure or super tsundere or surprisingly emotional that they wanted him back after he aged out?? Did anyone else come back or do special day-long visits like how schools bring in visitors? What does max think of the new kids? They all look so cool i love Max's hair!!!!

HI HI HELLO YES OFC!!! :33

Okay so. I call it the '6 years later' AU but technically i have Stuff Planned for all the time that passed between now and then too, so this'll be a bit longer, sorry!!

Max joining the counselor team was actually kind of a natural/gradual development?? Basically, since I can't make CC content that isn't found family Max has a shit home life, and, even if he hates to admit it at first, the three months of summer camp become his bright spot each year. David and Gwen catch on to that, but there isn't much they can do to help outside of camp - until one day Max (age 13/14ish) shows up on Gwen's doorstep because he ran away from home, 'since his parents won't care either way'. While he does return home after hiding out at Gwen's place for a weekend, this kind of kicks off a pattern of Max running away sporadically, to Gwen's, later David's, or his friends places. I could go into more detail here but. this is already long. oop.

ANYWAYS. So with Max spending basically all the time he can away from home and the summers at camp, once he ages out there's. A Bit of panic starting in him once summer gets closer again, because his Safe Place seems inaccessible, and two of his OTHER options, especially for longer stays away from home, would also be unavailable. Gwen and David notice this (it manifests in Max staying over More but Angrier) and try to find a solution. Gwen proposes the Jr Counselor idea. They introduce the idea to Max by kinda implying that workload around camp is a lot, and it'd really hurt to miss one of their most experienced campers, but... maybe, if he worked there too (well, interned. basically unpaid. but! no camp tuition!) he could help them? so they basically give Max a way to say yes without admitting that he's the one who needs camp the most. He does insult the whole thing ofc, and says like he's just doing it because he knows camp would burn down without him there ("actually, most of the fires we had were started by you...?" "shut it, david") but secretly he's really really happy. He might even thank them later that evening. Quietly. Before complaining about it preemptively. <3

WAH THATS ALREADY SUCH A WALL OF TEXT ok ill hurry up w the rest:

While most of the other campers had some rotations over the years, I don't have conk rete plans for most of them - Nikki and Neil are still Max' gang, and returned for multiple summers, if not all. This year though, Neil is busy with college prep, and Nikki is spending the summer at home because of family crisis. They still video call a lot, they're still The Gang. I have sketched designs for them, but I'm not quite happy yet.

Max at first doesn't take his role seriously, because he's basically just Back For Another Summer, but pretty quickly realises Gwen and David DO have expectations, and DO give him responsibilities. He takes a while to come around on his new relationship to the younger kids, and especially one of the youngest kids takes a liking to him, a very anxious young girl, which annoys him at first, but... well. It's a whole ~character arc~ for Max waiting to happen tbh.

OK THANK YOU IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR IM SORRY ITS SO LONG. i wasnt lying when i said i have So Many Thoughts about this. ANYWAYS as thank u for getting this far heres a doodle of Max putting up his hair. :3c

#Camp Camp #Camp Camp Max #Camp Counselor Max AU #<- the AU tag #Nudel draws stuff #bitt-better

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merge-conflict · 2 months

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sketch: !==

(cw: drug use + some dissociation, body horror/identity crisis. ~1k.)

There’s always something about four am that makes a bleak outlook bleaker, and Johnny is glad he’s too stoned to really feel it. It follows him around, black dog– or maybe just some black cat. A whole bunch of bad omens, on repeat. He can’t seem to relax, no matter what he does. V is dozing in his lap, gonked out of her mind, twitching and shivering in a high he couldn’t reach. If he could, he’d dive in with her. She’s so out of it she doesn’t even seem to notice when he moves her out of the way so he can get up to take a piss.

Habit leads him back to Kerry’s room. He’s still asleep where Johnny left him, curled up next to the empty space he’s left behind. He pads quietly across the hard floor, swinging the door most of the way closed behind him without making the noise of latching it.

When he’s finished he lingers in front of the mirror instead of returning. Today is not one of those days where his face makes him sick; it’s only the reflection of a dead man looking back at him. This isn’t his body. His body is moldering several feet underground. His body is ash and worms. His body is still lying back on that couch.

She’d tried to slither away when he wasn’t watching. Crawling on her belly back to the viper pit. For what? The man who’d gotten her soul split in two and had been too proud to touch her.

“Hey.” Kerry catches him by surprise, crossing the cold tile and putting his hands around Johnny’s hips, familiar calluses skating across his skin. His voice is low, graveled by fatigue. “Can’t sleep?”

“V’s up,” he says. He turns on the faucet and brings a handful of water to his mouth to wash out some of the fuzziness. That just makes him aware of how thirsty he is, so he bends and drinks straight from the stream until it makes him start to feel sick.

Kerry’s hand is running up and down his spine. “She okay?”

“She’s fine.”

Kerry’s silent for a while, but Johnny’s not in a hurry to rush him so long as he’s combing his fingers through the hair plastered to the back of his neck. “You okay?”

Johnny opens his mouth to answer, watching the face in the mirror. It’s all wrong. He should have gone to Kerry sooner, should have let Alt pack him away until they could grow him a clone body. It’s V’s fault he rushed things, and now he’s stuck like this, in this body. He should have killed that old dog when he had the chance. He should kill him now.

“Johnny,” Kerry says, turning him around so his back is to the sink. “Hey,” he says, a little quieter, cupping Johnny’s face. Fifty years he’s been dead, and Kerry still wants him. Fifty years and all his bullshit, and Kerry is cradling his face like he’s someone who had been worth waiting for. “You still with me?”

“What kind of question is that?” Johnny asks, and the words come out an accusation. He exhales, gripping the counter so his knuckles go white and numb.

Kerry’s staring at him with that look on his face that makes him old. Rogue has it too, sometimes, when she’s looking at him. Like there’s something they know that he doesn’t, just because they sold out. Like they pity him because he’s got the guts to do what they won’t.

“You’re high, Johnny.”

“So what?” He brushes off Kerry’s hold because he can’t feel those hands right now without thinking of V at his back, her breath on his neck while she watches. It’s all a fucking lie, and he’s clinging too tightly to something he never deserved, like a ghost that can’t move on. “What the hell do you care?”

Something flips like a switch in Kerry. He shoves Johnny back, crowding him so the stone of the countertop is digging uncomfortably into his thighs. “I don’t know, Johnny, why the hell do I care? Is it just some giant fucking mystery to you? Are you that stupid?”

This time instead of waiting for an answer, Kerry yanks him down by the dogtags into a kiss. Johnny falls apart, sliced and portioned into raw hunger. The kiss turns bloody, but Kerry doesn’t complain like he usually does when he breaks skin. His grip on Johnny’s shoulders is so tight it’s painful, but it feels good to be needed. It settles the itch in his skin, makes his hands strong and sure.

He picks Kerry up by the hips and turns to set him down on the counter, following the driving bass line he’s setting down, the foundation over which he can spark and soar. His mind slips away while he’s still chasing Kerry’s mouth, flickering back when he sees his face in the mirror, arched while Kerry scrapes his teeth over his neck.

It's just some stranger. A dead man. Frankenstein, hollowed out by his own monster.

“Johnny,” Kerry is saying, insistently. His eyes are so blue, even in the dim light. He still smells the same, still tastes the same, but he’s not the same.

Johnny leans in to kiss him again, softly this time. He closes his eyes. Kerry’s hand is running up and down his spine. “Yeah. I’m with you.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fic #my fic #sketch fic #johnny silverhand #kerry eurodyne #silverdyne #johnny (lying): looking in the mirror makes me feel great. it's fine. not a problem #calling this a sketch because I don't feel like writing all the context around it but it still kinda holds up #starting to understand how fucking around in alternate timelines is useful for exploring a dynamic #there's a reflection/introspection joke in here too for all y'all duck typers

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the-spaced-out-ace · 6 months

Text

Lautski Week - Day 1 (Blue)

You know the au where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate? Yeah.

Teddy had said that school wouldn't be so bad go raise some hell. Whatever that meant. And even if there were any capability of that, Pete probably didn’t have it. The idea of actually going to school with people was already scary, and the principal deciding he was smart enough to go straight into the first grade with the big kids made it worse. Everyone was going to be taller and probably meaner. He’d never deal.

The drab hall lying ahead of him went on forever and ever, or so it would seem if he didn’t at least have shadows and the room numbers to rely on. So he watched carefully for room 12. That’s where the first grade class was.

He wondered how many of the adults or even way older kids saw things way more clearly. After all, they’d be old enough to date, right? And that would mean finding a soulmate. And when people meet their soulmate for the first time, they’re able to see colors. Teddy was able to see color for a few years, before Jenny disappeared. He didn’t speak on it much. But once when Pete asked what colors actually were, Teddy had said they made things so much brighter.

Pete found room 12 eventually, though. He opened the big creaky door and walked around, scanning for the desk with his name on it. All the desks were grouped in clusters of four. Three girls were already sitting at his. One of them said “hi” to him as he approached. As soon as he sat though, something in his vision shifted. The best way he could describe it was a splash, as if the change literally rolled down like the way small waves rippled in the lake if you threw a rock into it. And then everything was different. More diverse in a way he could have never imagined before. Maybe brighter.

Oh. Oh my gosh, he thought. Are these colors?

Pete briefly glanced at the girl who’d said hi before he sensed a strange spark and looked down again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the light, cool hue on her dress. He looked up and out the window. The sky was the same shade.

Pete quickly decided that this color was his favorite.

“What color is the sky?” Pete asked on the drive back to his parents’ house.

Teddy had picked him up. Pete noticed his car was the same color as the sky and his classmate’s dress.

“Blue,” Teddy said. “...why?”

“I think I see colors now.”

Pete knew of course, just how young he was compared to other people when it happens to them, but he didn’t fully grasp the weight until Ted pulled over at the nearest public parking lot to ask him about it, and if he was sure, and did he know who it was, and what does he think of color anyway?

Pete was fairly sure, and he didn’t fully know really because three people were at his desk group, and colors were so beautiful. He never would have imagined it was to this extent.

Pete shut his locker, already so ready to just get to lunch. If he did, that would be the day’s halfway point, and after enough taunts from Jagerman, he was more than ready to go to Beanie’s like every other day.

Sitting comfortably in his place in the woodshop, Pete went over the sketch of the third stupid bird house he’d be making this year. Hey, Mr. Houston never told him to stop making them, and it was a bit more complex than two separate cutting boards, and since he was here to learn different techniques (even if Mr. Houson almost always gave an A anyway), then he was making progress.

Steph Lauter sat next to him. She’d been speaking to him more and more this year. And every time, it seemed less and less like a prank.

Until today, anyway.

“So,” she said nonchalantly, “Can you see the colors?”

His mind suddenly reeled. No one had ever asked him that. It really wouldn’t matter to anyone else anyway. He knew his soulmate had to be someone in his grade, of course, but who would want to be stuck with him? He truly felt bad for his soulmate, knowing they’d likely be cooler in every capacity.

Especially Steph.

So why was she asking him?

But Pete nodded. “Y–Yeah. I can. Since I was a kid.”

“So you’ve met your soulmate, then?”

“Logically, yes.” Pete looked down, trying to concentrate on his work. “Didn’t ever figure out who it is, though. Someone in our grade, that’s all I know.”

Sometimes part of him hoped it was her given how fluttery his mind could get when she spoke to him. Then he’d always remember, he was a loser, and she was Stephanie Lauter. What kind of match made in heaven would that be? Maybe yet another prank pulled on him, this one by the universe itself.

He eventually spoke up again “...can you?”

“See color?”

He nodded. She did too.

“Cool,” he said quietly. “...do you know who yours is?”

“Nah,” she said. She looked at him, smiling. “But I’ve got a good guess.”

Pete could feel himself going warm. He wrote and rewrote his measurements for his draft even more furiously. But he couldn’t ignore her forever. He sighed.

“Y’know something?” he said. “One of the first things I saw after it happened was this dress you were wearing, because we were in the same class. It was blue. Then when I saw the sky I thought to myself, ‘if anything can be the same color as where outer space is, it must be good.’ Blue’s been my favorite color ever since.”

She stared at him, still grinning fondly. “Pretty clever for a kid, huh?”

He shrugged. “I still think it’s the prettiest anyway.”

The conversation started to fade there. The implications did not take much a further hold in Pete’s mind. It wouldn’t matter forever. Soon enough the universe would give him another chance to make it click for Pete, just how much that day in school when she wore the blue dress mattered to Steph, too.

#team starkid #starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lautski #lautski week #peter spankoffski #pete spankoffski #steph lauter #stephanie lauter #npmd #nightmare time #em writes fic #soulmate au

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