#Why does ink look so scared?

[gamarancianne]

Hi, how are you? I had an idea and I wanted to ask you if you could do an angst with Azriel x reader in which she is friends with Elain and has been in love with Az for some time, but has never told him because they hardly have any contact apart from the Valkyries and Elain's training. Then they get a little closer and she decides to tell Elain all about her feelings for Azriel and pushes the reader to confess her feelings and that's exactly what she does, but Azriel's reaction isn't the most pleasant and he lets out a "How can you fall in love with someone you hardly know? Only fools are like that. So she is devastated and disappears for a few days, until she returns and catches Azriel and Elain in a very intimate moment in the bedroom and realizes that they were already together even before she confessed her feelings to him and they end up drifting apart. So the reader begins to do everything she can to forget Az and concentrate on herself and, in the meantime, becomes friends with Lucien, to the point of braiding each other's hair. After a while, they break up and Az starts to notice the reader, but she's looser than ever and doesn't care much about him. And he chases after her a lot and in the meantime an obscenity occurs to her so that she ends up saying it was just a one-night stand. And the ending is up to you :)

Azriel x reader - In Between part 1

Part 2

Okay first of all thank you so much for this ask it is my first so its precious to me !! And I am really fine and you ?? I love the plotline and I am sucker for angst, especially with our little azzy so it's perfect !!

Warnings : angst, smut allusions, heartbreak, mean Az, mean Elain

Summary : You are in love with Azriel, but you don't know him, that's what he said when you confessed. Heartbroken yes, but you surely didn't think that he would end up being with your dear friend Elain.

Note : well this has gotten longer than I thought so it will part 2 and I am already working on it don't worry. Also I didn't know if Elain knew that it was Az or not so I improvised. I hope it fits your standards and you can all tell me what you think about it in the comments. And I am again sorry for my English 😭💗

There he was, in all his glory, sweaty from his fight with Cassian, his shadows swirling around him and you had never been more attracted to someone.

Elain had finally convinced you to join her at training and you instantly regretted, looking at how hard the Valkyries were training but mostly feeling your cheeks heaten up at the sight of him. Of his naked torso full of black ink and fight scars. 'Gods, cauldron boil me why did I accept this' you thought. But Elain was quick enough to shove the thought away when she brought you to introduce you to her family. You had already seen them many times when you had picked her up after training for a walk or a tea party, thing that you both enjoyed a lot, but it was never a proper meeting like this one.

"Hey guys !" She exclaimed, full of joy "This is yn, a friend of mine and she's coming to training for the first time so I hope you are all gonna be nice to her. Especially you Az, don't scare her away" she chuckled looking a the main concerned. After quick presentations, she made sure you were okay and went with her sister, Cassian and the Valkyries for their already known exercises while you stayed there, blush creeping up to your face and ears, with Azriel. Because, with your luck, he was the one to train you today to show you the basic exercises in order to not hurt you during the first day.

"Follow me" Azriel ordered and you obeyed, walking to a smaller ring. He showed you some stretches before starting to teach you many combat basics. It was awkward, for both of you. Every time Azriel came behind you to correct your position, you would blush extremely hard and shiver at his touch. And you could tell he noticed it by the way he straightened and did everything to avoid this kind of situation. To ease the tension between us, you engaged the conversation. "they're really beautiful" you said pointing with your head the blue gems on his arms and torso now dressed with his leathers.

"Oh thanks..." he only responded. Elain did already tell you that he was a silent one but you didn't expect him to be that silent to be honest. But you were stubborn so you continued. "And.. where did you buy them ? I think it could be a nice present for my brother for next solstice". And then he froze, stared at you dead in the eye and laughed at your face. Despite the facts that you didn't understand and that you were even more embarrassed you couldn't stop yourself from enjoying the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. His beautiful laugh was clear and ran to the deepest parts of your soul.

"Wh-what is so funny about what I said?"

"They're siphons, I earned them by being a Carynthian, because I am an Illyrian soldier, you cannot buy them !" He bursted out of laughter a second time.

"Oh mother above, I am so sorry if I offended you by saying that, I don't know anything about Illyrians I am sorry. Really" you stuttered, feeling even more ridiculous than before.

He reassured you about it. You had made a fool of yourself but the air was lighter and the training went on with a more smiling and nice Azriel, with whom you had joked, laughed and exchanged soft innocent touches, until it was over. The bubble in which you and Az had been, exploded when Elain came checking on you two.

"How did it go ?" She asked excited.

"Really well" you answered quite proud of you.

Azriel nodded, and you felt his eyes linger on you when you left with your friend.

You came back the day after, and the day after and after... until it became a routine to train and laugh with Az very morning. Now you were also training with Elain and Nesta because of your quick improvements. But one thing was certain, you had fallen completely and utterly in love with Azriel. You didn't know what to do because he was always staring at you from afar when you were coming or leaving but you two never really talked about your life or anything.

While stretching with Elain, she asked about your love life and you decided that you would ask her opinion.

"Speaking of that, I need you to be brutally honest with me El' "

"What are you seeing someone ? Why didn't you tell me ?" She exclaimed.

"No I am not, don't worry I would've told you" she relaxed. "But you know there is this guy that I see almost everyday and I think we get along well. I feel like he is looking at me sometimes but we never really talk to eachother, like about our lives or anything. It's odd, but I really like him and I don't know what to do."

She smiled at your scrunched eyebrows and responded more calmly: "Follow you heart dear, you are so much beautiful and kind, there is no sane male in all Prythian who could resist you. Besides who is this man ? Isn't it the brown hair guy at the coffee shop you work at ? Because if it is he totally has a crush on you!"

"Haha no I won't tell you but thanks for the advice though, you are clearly the best! I love you Elain!"

"Me too yn, a lot. But now go get your lover before I kick you out myself for you to do it! Fly you fool!" She pushed you out the ring while you were laughing with her and you ran as fast as you could to get to the source of your desire, Azriel. He was almost shooting in the sky when you screamed his name. He turned around to see your exhausted figure running toward him.

"Hey are you okay ? What's going on ?"

"I'm fine thank you Az but I got something to tell you if you don't mind"

"Of course not go on", he responded almost too quickly and straightened hearing his nickname coming from your mouth. You always called him Azriel but never Az or Azzy. Never.

"Well, I meant to tell you for a while but I hadn't enough courage so here am I... I love you" you spoke in one breath your head down and your eyes shut.

You waited for an answer and waited again until you were almost shaking with fear and looked back at Azriel's face. What you saw made your eyes well up with tears. He was shocked, in a bad way, even disgusted at your confession.

"You don't want that yn" he finally answered.

"What ?" You asked your voice breaking.

"How can you fall in love with someone you hardly knows ? Only fools are like that". And with that he flew away, leaving you a crying mess on the floor of training.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your body and heart were sore. You had been crying for hours. After training, well, more after your mean rejection by the love of your life, you had run away to your apartment and cried without stopping, you sometimes just changed the place: your bed, the couch, even the floor.  You felt broken, of course, but above all ashamed at your actions. Your bad thoughts were flooding in your head without stopping. Your anxiety, insecurity and doubts about yourself surfaced once again: he was right, how could you have fallen in love with him without even knowing him ? And then you cried again, this time at your window looking at the stars above you. Two of them were shining more than the others and you just hoped that one day the mother would give you a male, capable of loving you back so that you could both be like those stars, shining together amongst others.

It had been a few days now, and the same routine happened again everyday. You would wake up, your eyes sore from crying not remembering anything, and you would recall your conversation  with Azriel and start crying again all day, only eating ice cream or cookies. Elain had sent you many notes, asking what was happening to you and why you weren't at training. You still hadn't answered yet but, today, you decided that it was time for you to get up your feet and not cry about that lame excuse of a male anymore. You dressed up and went to Elain's apartment near the Sidra.

When you arrived, the door was already open, but when you called her, she didn't answer. The worst scenarios already came to your mind and you entered in her home, scared for her. You stopped in your tracks when you heard noises coming from her bedroom. It was voices, her and Azriel's voices. You didn't want to do anything involving Azriel so you walked back to the door but froze when you heard your name. You didn't want to be nosy, but you heard your name, so it was fair to listen right? You approached slowly and silently her bedroom in which you two had have countless sleepless girls nights, and listened to their conversation.

"What ? You are the one she confessed to ?" Elain then bursted out of laughter and you felt another knife stabbing your heart. Your dear friend, who encouraged you to confess the deepest parts of your heart was mocking you in front of your said love interest. But you weren't supposed to be there, so it was your fault. You deserved it for making a fool of yourself. That's what your thoughts were screaming at you in your head.

"Yeah, but stop it now, I don't wanna talk about another woman right now" Azriel said, his voice low.

You had enough now but still decided to take a look inside yhe room and instantly regretted when you saw them together, naked from their previous activities, tangled in the sheets, now making out with eachother. Your heart already broken in a million pieces, broke again when he said those words you will remember for life "Anyway you know I only love you Elain".

You ran as fast as you could, bumping in the table, and making a big noise in the living room but you couldn't care one bit. You just had to leave the damn place. Tears were streaming down your face knowing your face, and you didn't even noticed it, only focused on the worst pain you had ever felt. The pain of your heart: of a love and a friendship broken. It was too much, too much in just a short amount of time.

And then everything hit you : Azriel had never looked nor stared at you, he was looking at Elain all this time when you were both arriving at training. He was never interested in you, it was always Elain. How could you have been so stupid and think different : the first time you two had ever talked, you had made a fool of yourself and he was only nice to you because you were Elain's friend. For the past month, in need of affection, you had lived in complete delusion of a love that never existed.

#acotar #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #elain archeron #elain acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel x yn #acotar x y/n #writing #nesta archeron #cassian

[hikarry]

It's officially canonical and blessed by Neil himself that Aziraphale has diaries. Since when? We can only speculate. Does he still write them? We can only guess

That opens MANY doors for questions and what-not

Say, we know he at least has had diaries since the 1800s. I can be bold enough to pull the date a lil bit back and claim he has had diaries since King Arthur's reign. Hell, maybe Aziraphale started documenting his finds and life amongst humans as soon as parchment and ink were created, the sky is the limit really

I wouldn't even be surprised if Aziraphale has written some fiction himself. Actually good fiction based on his life, perhaps. Or based on silly stories Crowley comes up with while he is drunk and uses his extraordinary imagination to entertain the angel, who knows

Anyway, that's not my point, back to focus

Obviously, he writes about his encounters with Crowley, as canon so shows. And, knowing humans have fleeting lives and don't last long, it's secure to guarantee that, apart from himself, Crowley is the most prominent character in his diaries

Alas, this is all fun and games, but let me ask you this: Aziraphale and Crowley have come up with code words and secret signs to speak to each other and rendezvous numbered places to meet, yes? All behind a curtain of secrecy for fear of being found out and, consequently, destroyed. So, tell me, why diaries where he clearly writes Crowley's name and not a code name, let's say?

Its very bold of Aziraphale to keep documentation of his life and encounters with Crowley written in paper when he spends most of his waking moments looking over his shoulder, afraid Heaven or Hell will find out about them.

It would always be a real possibility that Heaven could find some of the diaries. And have physical proof of the Arrangement just cause Aziraphale couldn't come up with some code names for his sins. Writing the diaries is really dangerous and, for someone as scared as Aziraphale, I'm just surprised he kept writing them for so long

On the other hand, they are an amazing plot device

Now that Aziraphale is gone, surely he left his diaries somewhere hidden in the bookshop. If not all, some of them

Theres a real possibility of Muriel finding the diaries by accident and handing them over to Metraton out of loyalty to Heaven because they don't know better. Or of them giving the diaries to Crowley after reading them with questions about what they read, innocently

Either scenario, I really hope they use the diaries somehow in season 3. It would be a lost chance not to

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #david tennant #michael sheen #anthony j crowley #muriel good omens

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Hunters Ink

Tattoo artist!Daryl Dixon x Reader

One tattoo leads to many more when you fall head over heels with the artist.

You made your way into the shop, quickly engulfed in old rock music and the buzz of machines. The place was packed.

An older bald man welcomed you, a bright smile on his face after he had notified his client. "What can I help ya with, sweetheart?"

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to go about things. "I'd like to get a tattoo."

The man gave you a soft laugh. "Well tha's a given, why else walk into our shop, huh? Now, you got a picture withya, or do ya need sum time to look around fer inspiration?" He motioned around and pointed at the walls adorned with designs.

"I brought something" You fished in your bag for the piece of paper that held the print of a dog's paw.

The man took in the print and called someone else over.

"Daryl! C'mere, this one's yer business." When he turned back to you his voice went softer. "Mah brother does what ya want, my style ain't good fer the lil' details. He'll take over, yeah?"

He handed your paper over to his brother, who looked it over. "Where d'ya wan' it?" You went over all the basic details, where, how big and if you had any other tattoos already. You shared the reasons behind the pawprint and got a couple of placement suggestions before deciding you wanted the piece on your lower arm.

The appointment was quickly made and you left with Daryl's artist card and a warm feeling inside.

The day of the appointment came up quick and you made sure to follow the advice you were given. You had a good meal beforehand and brought some sugary sweets and drinks with you.

"C'mon over, cutie. Got yer paw ready for ya." Daryl came to collect you after you hadn't moved when he called you.

"I got the whole day for ya, so we'll go at your pace, yeah?" His gravely voice was so calming, it really helped with the first tattoo nerves.

"Thanks, really appriciate it." You gave him a sweet smile as you watched him cut different sizes of your tattoo and asked for your hand. "Let's see which size looks best."

Daryl held the guessed sizes to the chosen spot on your arm. "I think the second one?" He took it and held it to your arm once again at your decision and after taking it in you decided it was good.

"Aight, go sit and I'll get it ready for ya." You followed his every move as he talked through the whole stencil making process and came back to you.

With minimal peach fuzz removal and proper cleaning the stencil was on your arm and you were admiring the idea of what it would look like when it was done.

You were ready to go.

Daryl's touches were featherlight, so precise and focused you were almost scared to speak from the moment he held tour wrist to place your arm on the stand beside the chair.

"M'gonna start, do a lil' line ta see how ya handle it." He rubbed something on the stenciled skin and moved the buzzing, inked up machine to your skin, keeping and eye on you as well but you barely gave a kick when he drew the first line.

Daryl gave you a proud smile and went to work. "Ya can ask ta tap out anytime, need ta keep ya as comforable as possible."

You watched his hands work your skin. The way the muscles in his arms tensed at every precise movement and the way his hair was tied back for the work was hypnotising to see. The outline was done before you knew it with how distracted you were by his own large collection of ink.

"How'r ya holdin' up? S'not so bad ain't it?" He came back with a glass of soda for you to give you both a little break.

You admired your arm, the skin all red from the scraping but it didn't hurt that bad. "I'm good." You started, giving yourself a moment to form a sentence. "You're so.. so much softer than you look?" God what were you saying? That was nowhere near a compliment.

"Ya thought we're all as loud as Merle? Loud music, loud angry mouth?" You shyly nodded as his correct assumption. He was being so sweet to you, making sure you were still good every few moments and it warmed your heart to know such kind people were still around. You just didn't think they looked like that.

With the way his heavy boots stomped through the room and the chains on his pants jingled with each step you'd expected short, snappy answers and the all black attire didn't feel welcoming at all before.

But now as you stared at him while he was answering a phone call you couldn't help but let your mind wander off.

You were mesmerised with the ink covering his throat, the wings that followed the natural lines of his body almost perfectly, and every other piece that disappeared into the neckline of his shirt. Even the nude lady laying over the top end of a knife on his lower arm was pretty to you, and you never though the silouhette of roadkill would hold your attention like it did.

"Didn't your mama ever teach ya it's rude ta stare?" You were so deep in thought you hadn't heard the door bell jingle when Merle came waltzing in. His voice pulled you from your daydreaming so fast you got embarrassed. With your head ducked down you glanced over at Daryl who was still on the phone, but he did look back at you with a smile and winked at you. He flipped off his brother with his free hand and went back to writing on a scrap piece of paper and ending the call.

"Ya see me on the phone from outside the window and ya still come in like tha'?"

Merle only laughed and went over to his station to set up for the day. Their back and forth bickering kept up for a bit but it didn't bother you with Daryl smiling through all of his comebacks.

"Darlene, when will ya learn it's still mah own shop, so I can do whatever the hell I want." Merle was at the printer, reading his client's designs while Daryl wiped the excess ink off your skin. "Your shop? Aight how 'bout ya start doin' all the supply orders too, then. Watch ya run outta paper towels halfway into a client's piece."

Merle only yammered some insult in return and went back to working in silence.

Now that his brother was finally quiet again Daryl could continue working without interuptions, having constatly removed the machine from your skin as he replied to the conversation.

A couple of times you thought he was done when he went to move away, but eaxh time it was small top ups and detailing, making sure all the small lines of fur were copied over from the stamped pawprint of your dearest friend were copied over onto your body.

"Ya still like me after today?" He was cleaning up his station while you were admiring his work in the mirror and saw him smile at you in a way that had your stomach do a flip in the best way, already thinking up a next piece so you could come back.

"Ofcourse I still like you! You got me exactly what I wanted, thankyou." You were back at his station, letting him clean your arm for the last time with his gentle touches, but not without a soft "Sorry." before wiping away the excess fluids and wrapping it up for you.

"I'll give ya this, tells ya how ta care fer new ink. And this, on the house." You accepted the paper and aftercare creme and made your payment before you shared goodbyes and you went on your way.

As planned you came back to the shop four weeks later to show the healed piece, not needing any touch ups and getting compliments on taking good care of it.

Instead of heading out immedately you stuck around, looking at the walls until Daryl's voice caught your attention. "Ya wanna ask somethin'?"

You looked at him before averting your gaze again, somehow feeling it was wrong to already ask for a new tattoo. You heard Daryl chuckle. "Ya want somethin' new, dontcha? Tell me whatya got in mind."

He had stopped to lean over the front counter and gave you a knowing smile. "Ya were starin' at the animals, want one o'them?" He looked over and pointed at the frame that held a part of his flash designs and you carefully mentioned liking the rabbit, but not the overall dark theme of the collection.

"Lemme draw ya a pretty bunny and i'll send ya the picture, 'kay?" You immediately loved the idea. The way Daryl's animal desings held so much emotion had you excited he was designing one just for you. "Yeah, that would be amazing. A softer, maybe less dead bunny." You smiled whe he slid over a piece of paper that held your info he copied from your previous appointment, but the phone number section still open. "Fill tha' in for me? Fer the books."

Maybe it wasn't the smoothest way to ask for your number, but he had it now along with a reason to text you.

Not long after you got your bunny, then came some flowers added around it and eventually you were getting custom pieces drawn by Daryl every time you had some money to spend.

Ofcourse it wasn't all you. Daryl had figured out where you worked and made sure to leave you very generous tips to add to your tattoo funds, just so Merle wouldn't figure out you weren't paying full price anymore now that you were getting so close.

"No way he just left you that much--" your work bestie squinted at you as your gaze followed Daryl out the door after he had paid way too much and headed out. "Is he your boyfriend?" You looked at her with a frown and swatted her arm. "Shut up, oh my god we're just friends.."

The truth was, you were both too scared to ask the other out, so seeing each other at the shop and the lunch place was what kept you both close for now.

A/N: This took so much longer than I planned, I hope the hype for this one hasn't left yet!!

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl

[eldritch-spouse]

Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

[hxltic]

I’M SORRY. MASTUKAWA ISSEI

• 200 FOLLOWERS!! 😻😻😻

• Genre: smut

• Warnings: female reader, college, slight angst at first, overstimulation, rough counter sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, daddy kink, cunnilingus, pretty long but please don’t let it scare you off lol

-I just love comfort roommate Mattsun

You slept horribly. You thank the universe your classes had mercy. Though you still called into work, unfortunately, and even more to your demise— there was a huge sale that made folding restock clothes a pain.

Slumping through the door, getting your shower in, and throwing on the first shirt you found from the laundry room was very efficient until you got into bed.

You lay there.

Comfortably uncomfortable.

You were hot, but taking the covers off wasn’t an option. You felt every fiber or hair against your body. Your feet were cold. A growling noise erupted from your stomach.

Angrily, the covers are thrown off, where you stomp your way to the kitchen while dismissing the new breeze of air brushing your skin. No jacket, in shorts, waltzing around the apartment scavenging for food. You wish the feeling of the air conditioning didn’t bother you as much as the sound did, because it printed an obvious sign of irritation on your face.

Then the fire alarm beeped.

Taking a deep breath, you begrudgingly conclude yourself unsuccessful in finding something to nibble on. When you turn around, the corner of the kitchen table seemed to stick out more than usual.

Lo and behold it hit the corner of your already cold foot. You drop to your elbows on the counter in annoyance where hold your head, tugging probably unhealthily at your eyes from stress, trying your best not to fall to the ground and cry.

You immediately removed even the thought of tears when the door sounded.

“Honey I’m home.” Mattsun closes the door behind him.

He just got back from afternoon classes with only a handful of groceries. Your roommate started the “I’m home” thing as a joke, yet it carried farther than that as time went on. You correct yourself and try to help with the groceries at least a little bit, picking up what you could find in the bags and placing them in their correct spot.

Mattsun could obviously tell something was off the second he walked in. He watched you stutter and quickly regather yourself even though it looked as if you were on the verge of tears. He would’ve asked why by now, if he didn’t know that you probably didn’t know yourself. He was right. You didn’t.

Hard days never got to you, but as the homework piled up with your micromanaging boss, it went straight to the mini notepad in your brain listing all you had to do. It was fine until you had to flip to the next page, then the ink started getting all runny. You aren’t sure what caused it; but it happened. You held the milk mindlessly in your hand.

Mattsun scooted behind you towards the refrigerator. You were in the area between the island and the main counter, causing his front to press up against you innocently, an angered grunt dropping from your lips.

“Could you not go around?” You turn to him swiftly, your palm facing upwards to emphasize your feelings.

“Didn’t really think it mattered. You calling me fat?” He opened the refrigerator door. Usually you’d laugh, but it only turned your brows farther inwards.

“Yeah, it does. Go the other fucking way.” You spat. With the roll of your eyes, you slid the milk into the already opened fridge. You stepped back so that Matsukawa could close it, hand already on the handle—but when nothing happened, you turned around to see the tall male staring at you in disbelief. He literally just got home.

“…What?”

“The hell is up with you?” He asks regularly.

“Nothing,” you shrug and brush it off, “it was just unnecessary.”

“Well it’s clearly something,” he retaliates, “I’ve been practically crucified the ten seconds I’ve been here.” He closes the door and laughs humorlessly to himself.

“Whatever. It’s nothing.”

He starts, “Really? The-“

“God-it’s nothing! It’s nothing.”

The aggressive hand motions come back, then you finally take about four different things from the second-to-last bag and put them up hastily, even in your tired state.

He observes you from the counter with every step you take and every heavy breath you let in. Like you’re fighting an entire war with yourself.

It finally clicked in his mind: he said the wrong things in the wrong moment, and it wasn’t what you needed right now. He just wished he would’ve noticed sooner.

“Hey, my bad—I’m sorry. Should’ve went around.”

His voice wasn’t careless now, but soft. You heard him but just moved on to the last bag. Before you can pull something out, he takes it and tells you that you can go lay down. Better yet, that he’d handle everything else.

“It’s fine, I can do it.” You reach again and he pulls it away. “Give it.” The quicker you are, quicker he is.

You sigh and pull back. You wanted to slap the shit out of him but he wouldn’t budge.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

He cocks his head to the side. He was curious. It could tell how you actually feel about him, the kind of things you don’t tell people to their face.

“Like what?”

“Aggravatingly annoying,” you blatantly answered.

His expression changed for a second. He refuses to get louder, only talking in a low volume, casual tone.

“That I am.”

“Why can’t you just come in and go to your room to study or something?”

“I will next time.”

“Why do you always have to be by me?”

Hm…

Accepting it and having it your way he felt was the best thing to do. He’s been called annoying before, even irritating due to his constant teasing. But hearing it from you—really the main one he talks to that isn’t Makki— hurt a bit. You saw his eyes widen for a slight half a second more before reverting to his usual apathetic face.

He knew you didn’t mean it. He knew you were overstimulated. Giving in to you and whatever you said was what you needed, not someone to fight you on things. Yeah it fucking hurt; however, you were speaking out of temporary emotion rather than logic or feelings, so if not stressing you out in this way was what he’d have to do, he’d do it.

The truth was: you really couldn’t stand being by him. Hearing him walk in while you read in your bed, then casually throw his things to the wall and flop down at your feet. Or when you would come in later and he’d be sat criss cross on the couch, a spot waiting for you right next to him. You couldn’t decipher if these were regular friendly activities or not and it swam through your mind all throughout the day.

Was it just his personality? Did it mean anything to him? Were you being dramatic? All the hugs, the studying, the dinner nights. Were those dates? Did they have the same effect on him that they had on you? Were they even on purpose?

The silence was deafening and palpable, the gaze he held intimidatingly normal. Didn’t you just yell at him? How is he so calm? You had come back to your senses, staring up at his non-changing face, ready to say something.

“I-“

“Do I need any reason more than I want to be?” He utters first delicately.

There wasn’t a hint of negative energy. It made you sad, just how much he’d do for you. You actually almost wish he would’ve gotten mad.

He’s never once yelled at you, called you out for dumb things like breaking a glass bowl, or not being taught some things around the house. You just let out an entire day’s worth of anger onto him and said something that was nowhere close to what you feel. You even used him as a placeholder for what you wish you could say to your boss. He is always so, so good to you.

He watches as your eyes suddenly get tighter and your eyebrows inch upwards. You’ve done nothing but look at him, yet the mere thought of what you said and what he’s actually done forces you to drop your head slowly and take a few steps forward into his chest. Droplets fall silently to the tiled floor.

His arms softly found their way around you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

“You’re okay.”

He hugs you back, progressively getting softer with every passing minute. Not “It’s okay,” “You’re okay.” Sometime later, you pull back with a deep breath, and you send a tight lip smile to him. Then while he puts away the discarded item (that was previously fought over), you hop up on the island counter.

“Okay. I’m better now.”

“Good.” He closes the fridge. Your legs sway back and forth. You’ll try to explain what happened, even if you know it won’t justify the outbursts directed at him.

“Hey I didn’t mean it.”

“I kno-“

“No, no, wait.” You interrupt.

Dark eyebrows raise and his arms cross as he leans back against the counter in front of you to listen. He nods, telling you to go on.

“I’m so stressed. I just had a really, really bad day and put you at the end of it. I do really enjoy your company—I promise—It’s just…it’s just I don’t really-”

You think for a moment and sigh before your head drops into your palms again. It was because your mind was racing to find the words. Do you tell him? Would it count as a confession?

“I don’t even know anymore. Do you ever…um…”

“Take your time.” He sits patiently.

Damn, did you have to trip over your own words now?

“…What do the dates that you plan usually look like?”

He seemed lost in thought for a second, prior to returning towards the sight of you nervously twiddling your fingers. He noticed the emphasis on the word ‘plan,’ as if you were trying to differentiate between real dates from him and whatever the hangouts you two had were. Saving you the trouble, he’d just tell you.

“I like you.”

…huh?

The sudden confession makes your eyes almost pop out of your head. That was not the answer you were expecting, but not the answer you didn’t want.

“What?” You whisper. You did hear that correctly, right?

He goes on to elaborate with a sigh and a shrug.

“Listen, I’ve been through a million different of these confessions and I don’t want that delay with you. I like you a lot, period.”

It was a while back ago when Mattsun decided he’d focus on you alone. He cleared his phone, and (which you noticed) somewhat cleared his defiled reputation of past debauchery. Many older women have came up to him asking if he actually would pursue during his libertine phase, to which he’d respond no, so he has experienced almost every subtle confession ever made. It was like déja vu.

Wide-eyed you sit. That was a lot easier than you expected; you were worrying all for nothing. The bearing weight that had you in a hold was finally lifted.

“So all of those were-“

“Yes. I haven’t done that with anyone else and I prefer to keep it that way.”

Your heart probably jumps in your chest and your eyes light up. A wide smile inches its way onto your face, and it almost dies down when you remember what you did, but he brings it back with a light, mature smile of his own. After all this time he actually was crushing on you like you were him. You never, ever could deny the way you were eager to see him once he would return from his classes and crash the night with you.

Speaking of crash, a sudden returning wave of exhaustion brushes your body. You ignore it though. There are better things.

“Well, that’s somehow where I was going; I like you a lot too. But if I actually asked you would you say yes? I know how-”

“That depends. Does it come with a ring?”

You stop and your dimples start to show as a smile crawls onto your face, again, “Um…no?“

“Then I object.”

He uncrosses his arms and walks unhurriedly between your legs. He was so content, large hands brushing up your thigh from the knee.

“Yes, I would,” he admits delightedly whilst gingerly coming closer in the face, “the ring comes later though.” He’d whisper a breath away from your lips. You’d wondered how you could be so lucky, the confession not even falling from your sheepish mouth, and still end up with the same outcome. When his eyes go from yours to the plump of your mouth; So, so ready to feel him on you, your eyes close and anticipate him.

Nothing happens. Once your eyes open and he stands there mockingly with the trademark grin (still only hovering an inch away from your nose), if you didn’t know any better you would’ve shoved him away and hopped off the counter to your room for playing with your feelings. But Mattsun was just being Mattsun. First he laughs genuinely at how gullible you are. Then, his trail of sight goes back to your lips unashamedly once more with a dimple-showcasing smirk. He slowly pushes a falling strand of hair away, and slightly turns his head to melt into you with a hand on your cheek sweetly.

You could feel the free smile that was on his lips as he kissed you. It was cute. The kind of things you see in movies at little coffee shops riding along the street. It was unlike him, an unfamiliar feeling this was—like sunlight rather than a rainy or cloudy day. It sounds stupid, but Matsukawa is always slow moving and effective. Watching tv with your legs kicked up or tucked in a blanket as the pitter-patter of the rain decided the kismet of your day. The lambent lighting of the morning making it significantly darker than it usually is with the blinds open.

He caught you before you were too far gone by groaning happily. Throughout it, the entirety of your mind was buzzed by the way your lips gracefully slow danced against his on the counter of your shared apartment. It felt so good seeing him just utterly happy, especially with you. Warm and steady like molasses in January. His fingers eventually connected in the small of your back. You were still tired so his energy was just as lazy as your own; like when your hands floated around his neck and feathered through his hair.

He did it as if it had been years since he was kissed. Yearning for absolutely any ounce of touch from someone. He was accidentally pushing into you, needing to be closer, your arch slowly getting deeper.

The second he pulled away for necessary air, he caught the crevices of your thighs and pulled you with him. Now that the hard part was done he’d give you the full experience.

“What are you doing?”

“Relieving stress.”

He pushes a leg up and over his own shoulder. His hands are placed directly atop your abdomen to apply light pressure as he kisses away the nerves from the main fat of your body gently. Remember all that cute stuff? Yeah, it just diminished the second he decided to eat you out on the marble counter.

You’re not very sure how it led to something like this, something like him pulling your shorts and panties off together. Once there, his mouth felt great against your clit, mainly when he’d stop and suck right between. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamt of this from someone before because the form of the pink muscle inside you is unmistakable. So unmistakable even, that the feeling of the slurp that makes you squirm seemingly flows through your veins to your head like blood.

When Mattsun eats you out, he does it with precision. He knows where he wants to go and how he’ll get there. Compared to others he wasn’t as messy, but maybe that comes from the fact he’d prefer his fingers working inside of you. He’d love to watch your face contort on nothing but his hand because he knows it’s a favorited body part of his. He knows you’d love it. But, he will cup his mouth over you and give the same effect nonetheless.

And you loved that about him. He was careless, not nonchalant.

He was clingy, but independent.

He had morals, just not enough to get boring like when he jumped in the ball case in the store.

He was extremely opinionated, (especially when you asked him small questions like if he liked a shirt) but he also doesn’t care enough to convince you out of something you liked.

He’s hot, but also couldn’t care less about his appearance at times.

He was a walking juxtaposition.

And usually, when you’re alone, the relaxation of your mind helps you get off faster. This was the case, and going over his traits and features was clearly working well because now only your upper back was on the counter and anything below that point was lifted with his large hands. Both legs were in his possession. Your breaths were heavy and when your waist moves on him, his shoulders follow his head. Your own head moves to each side, but he doesn’t seem to care, this was incidental when he was holding your hips close to him so your wetness spread right under his nose. He was feeding off you since there was nowhere to run.

He’d tell you to sit still a bit but he likes the challenge. He likes watching your waist go back and forth as your pussy basically cries his name, and he would print his initials in hickeys on you if that’s what it called for. Others call it sadistic, he calls it motivation.

He could literally take both hands off of you and still be upright—the only reason he didn’t was because you’d probably make yourself fall. Though he did get close, a hand coming right up through your shirt to massage your breast. You unconsciously crossed your legs behind his neck in reaction. Damn, he was good.

He groans through you, and you wish you could watch but holding yourself together was a ground-breaking job. He hit each spot perfectly with complete control of his tongue and your shoulders were starting to hurt from bearing your own body weight.

His height made this fairly difficult but nothing he couldn’t handle—having to crouch in front of a pretty girl was the last of his worries. With your thighs covering his ears and temple, he sucked away. He was honestly glad he did this now rather than later, knowing you, you probably would’ve refused clamping on his head so you wouldn’t crush him or something like that. Mattsun believed his breath regulation was pretty okay considering he almost even got into swimming, but if by slim chance he did die he believed suffocating like this was preferred.

His tongue was literally inside of you. The only thing preventing your brain from fuzzing and your head from throwing back was there would be nothing left on the counter to hold your weight.

Once your heavy breathing developed to jagged and your heavyset eyes started to close, he set you back down gracefully. He heard your pleas but held out for as long as he could. Many “Mattsun please’s“ and “Mattsun I’s” later, he would finally relieve you; He knew his girl could do it.

He spent the last portion of your orgasm fulfilling his own desires and working you from the inside. He moved positions to rest on his left elbow and lean over your face, staring into your eyes, brows upturned and a smile showing. Was it a pity smile? Maybe, but it was for sure the face of amusement as you break down beneath him.

“H-holy shit…‘Sei- s’right there,” you declared.

“Huh? What is?”

A very implying whine followed. Matsukawa scooped his arm under your head like a pillow, his left hand turning your chin to face him. He loved that face. That pretty face only dusted with fatigue and sadness but smothered in want. That same face he’ll get to see whenever he looks down. Huh. Maybe he was a little sadistic.

Your body scrunched and your knees came up in ecstasy.

“Talk to me,” he says, but you barely could keep your eyes open the way he was avoiding the spot on purpose. You wondered how he did it, already having learned your body and how you reacted so well in such a short time. You were so close already and he was gonna ruin it, even though you’d probably still find a way to cum anyway.

You tried your best to muster up something and prayed he’d take it.

“Faster,” you ordered. No response. Actually instead of doing what you said, he pulled them out, assumingely because of the sudden attitude. You immediately went to apologize. He was actively in charge of your body, after all.

You verbally groan in annoyance, to where you hear a responding muffled giggle, so you open your eyes to see what happened.

You meet a view of his smiling jawline, looking down past the counter. His hand was still beneath your chin, almost as if he was protecting you from being uncomfortable, but his teeth held his shirt up as he used whatever was left on his fingers to jerk himself off. This was the disruption in question.

He didn’t mean to basically abandon you, but undoing the jawstring and letting himself free seemed like it would benefit everyone. And he was big. You’d seen big, but he was big all the way around.

You watched in awe as his fingers left a shine of gloss behind when they reached the reddening tip from the bottom.

He threw his head back and groaned in relief, finally being reminded what it felt like to be touched with someone else’s presence.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

With a look to your impatient, shocked eyes, he knew you wanted it. Needed it almost.

He pressed off the counter with his elbow but left his hand under your head. Such a gentleman. Lifting both legs up, with a hand stretched under your knees like a baby, he spoke to you.

“You want it?” He’d ask. You’d nod aggressively, to where he’d ask again. “You gotta tell me.”

“Yes, I do.” You pleaded. Of course your head rolled slightly on his hand to see his face around your legs.

“Alright. Tell me when you wanna stop. Safeword is green.”

You’d never once said a safeword during sex and you doubt you’d use it now. Plus, Issei wouldn’t hurt you.

Intentionally.

You felt him pull your legs apart and hold them where they were previously scrunched up at your breasts. Finally, he rubbed you one last time, before the tip slowly started to diminish inside of you.

It’s amazing how the body makes fluid for moments like these. It’s also amazing how wet Mattsun got you so it’d hurt ten times less.

When he stopped moving about halfway there, he hung over your body almost menacingly; his silhouette breathing deeply and whatever necklace he had on from the day dangling. Your face contorted at the intrusion and your eyes unexpectedly swelled, making you lachrymose. It definitely could’ve been worse, but fuck he was big.

The ravenette slipped his shirt off and your head slid off his hand painlessly, the overwhelming heat from everywhere flowing to his brain. He almost couldn’t take it. You were so wet but so fucking tight at the same time, he couldn’t even bring himself to keep going. He bent over to meet you with a kiss on the jaw and his hand found your own so you could squeeze it as he went on. He buried his face in your neck.

“O-okay, you can move now,” you managed.

No response.

“Issei?” You pushed his hair aside with the hand that wasn’t in his so you could see him. His eyes were closed and his breathing was seeking stabilization through his mouth.

“Fucking just- gimme a second. Please.”

You knew it was pure desire and he was trying his best not to hurt you. He would promise ‘til death that he tried to stop, to take it slow, but it was irresistible the second you giggled at his current state (that you caused) and your stomach contracted with him inside. He immediately pushed forward so that he was balls deep into the fluttering feeling.

“Matts—”

The sudden squeeze on his hand could cut off circulation and the grunt that emitted from his body over and over as he continued to do it couldn’t be missed. At this point it didn’t even hurt anymore, but the previously denied orgasm returned full force.

Mattsun, of course, would apologize later; but it wasn’t later yet. He finally lifted himself off you and gathered your legs once more so your ankles were at his ears, trying to feel more of the ribbed walls on either side. Your mouth fell open at the spot.

“Ha-hohfuck ‘m gonna cum.” You whispered.

“Mhmm? Let me feel it baby,” He leaned over again, almost testing your flexibility, running a hand along your cheek and swiping away a single tear that dropped from earlier while his forehead was against yours. Now that he knew how far you could go, he’d have a lot of fun with the positions he’d put you in.

“Fuck, fuck-!” You’d find him through your lashes so he could kiss you, the never ending thrusts seemingly reaching your belly button. He loved sucking on those pretty lips of yours.

He only let out a laugh of satisfaction as you stilled and stiffened around him, your arms roaming his back and head turning away. He continued to thrust downward, never letting up speed, causing you to writhe underneath him with every curl of his hips. He did eventually pull away and extend his arms though. It was for a nice view of your body.

His length slipping in and out as a white ring forms that’ll signify how many times he’s made you cum; your breasts through the shirt following your body back and forth; the already fucked out face you wield accompanied with a yawn—it was all so much, he almost couldn’t look anymore. In fact, he won’t.

He grabbed you and pulled you further down the marble so you could roll over, your wriggling body basically halfway there. Up you go by your hair, that flexibility coming in to play a second time while he fucked you. When you moaned at the tug, he wouldn’t be Mattsun if he didn’t tease you for it.

“Wow, who would’ve guessed. You like when I pull your hair?”

“Yes daddy,” you respond. It was almost instantaneous. You wished you could’ve said you meant to do it, but it was honestly an accident.

His thrusts slightly change, you wish you could say how. He dropped your head forcefully, took both of your wrists behind your back, and pulled you up by your throat. Your neck was strained trying to face him but you couldn’t help it, you had to listen when he was talking to you. He was amused, to say the least—especially when you stopped listening because of the way he was barely brushing that sweet nerve.

“That’s a filthy mouth of yours. Who knew you were such a slut?” He’d grin into your ear. “Mgh- since you’ve gotten so good at it, why don’t you tell daddy what you want?”

As long as you’ve known him, he’s made you say things you wouldn’t have even thought of saying prior. But right now? You couldn’t care less.

“Mmm,” you whimper, “h-harder daddy.”

You’re not sure how he unscrambled what you said with his hand restricting your throat and the other intermittent babble coming out of your mouth, but if anyone could, it was him. Mattsun was defiant and dominant, but when it came to your genuine pleasure, he’d gratify.

Teasing aside obviously.

With the slightest bend of his knees, he angled himself and thrusted farther upwards. Did you doubt he would remember where you’re g-spot was? You were choking up more than you already were and his name slipped off your tongue as if it were a veneration statement of butter. Your ass sounded throughout the apartment, the skin-on-skin contact loud enough for the neighbors to hear. The force was turning it red and Matsukawa loved it. He loved when the pussy talked back too.

In fact, you could tell, because he was gradually speeding up and his thrusts were slowly becoming sporadic.

“Oh shit-I’mmna-” You started.

“Come on it. Come on this dick so you can tell everyone you did it twice.”

“Mhmm.”

“You can tell all your little friends you’re mine and I’m yours.”

“Yes daddy…”

“Come so you find all the women I’ve ever talked to and tell them you’re the only one I want.”

With that, your eyebrows leveled out and your eyes shut while trying to process the sex drive and sweet believable words at the same time. Your body held onto Mattsun for dear life, to where he let go of your throat and held you close on the fall back down to your elbows. You were exhausted, but that grip your pussy still had on him was deadly. Deadly enough for him to slightly question whether you’d be a bad mom or not.

He obviously chose against it and sighed along your back while you came before pulling out. You turned around and crouched knowingly with whatever strength was left, then watched him jerk himself off above you. After you decided to take matters into your own hands (literally), he held himself up with his support on the counter. His head hanging over you while you stroked the other was a sight to remember.

With a final hiss, white decorated your face like a picture.

“Holy fuck,” his head faced the ceiling as he ran a hand over his face. The view he was met with when he came back down was insane, your hand curved behind his thigh and the other milking him dry of whatever was left. With a single bud of cum remaining, you licked your lips and smiled weakly.

What the hell would he do with you?

©hxltic

#haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #god i want him so bad #matsukawa x y/n #mattsun imagines #mattsun smut #mattsun #mattsun <3 #hq matsukawa #matsukawa issei #haikyuu hcs #issei smut

[jhoneybees]

Desire

Hi!! Here's a sweet but also savoury fic that I might write a part 2 for🤭

Tagging: @elvisalltheway101 my doll🫶

Characters:50s!Elvis X Older!reader

Warnings/triggers: 5 year age gap (A/n: The fic is set in 1955 so Elvis is 20 years old and reader is 25)

_____________________________________________

Elvis has always had a taste for younger girls and their chatty personalities but when his head did a whole 180 after laying eyes on a matured gal like you that is more quiet and not as chatty, he learnt what his real taste is.

His family knows you from living in the apartment next door and they adore how friendly of a person you are. His mama would often praise you during family dinners to his daddy and him which usually he would get embarrassed about her rambling on about girls that could be a potential partner for him but now getting to hear about what you said during a conversation you had with his mama, he didn’t say a thing.

Even though he sees you with his mama quite often, he doesn’t know a lot about you. He knows you came from a privileged family in Texas and when you graduated highschool, you moved to Memphis when you were 22 to have a fresh start into adulthood but that’s all he really knows from what his mama told him.

He finds you very pretty and your laugh and smile are so contagious but the thing that gets him almost trembling is how mature you look in those dresses you wear, it does…something to him.

Especially when he saw you from across the road as you were walking into the building complex you two live in, wearing that red halterneck dress with cherries on it.

His bottom lip just couldn’t help but fly in between his teeth, those damn curves are something else.

He’s had quite a big crush on you ever since you moved into Lauderdale Courts and for a long time he thinks he wouldn’t have the courage to confess to you because he’s scared that you might get disgusted and shut him down or go off telling his parents to scold him for having such feelings for someone that they look so dearly as a close family member so to save himself from that humility, he’ll just watch you from afar.

_____________________________________________

“Nah, you guys can go on without me” his friends groan in disappointment, they asked him if he wants to go to a party with him but he’s already been to 5 in the past 2 weeks, he wants a break so with another shake of the head, he bids them a farewell and turns on his heel.

He hums quietly, he thought he would be running around Memphis for the night with his buddies for a bit of a laugh but he’s a bit disappointed to find out they want to go ogling at girls at a party over at someone’s parents’ house, knowing that the adults don’t know about what their kids are doing because of them being out of town.

It just leaves him the option of just walking back home and finding something interesting to do there.

As he walks along the footpath with his hands in his pockets and head lowered down, he watches as his shoes lazily scrape along the concrete. He sighs out of boredom, he’s bored so what could he do when he gets home?

Just then when that question pops into his head, his ears perk up to the sound of a piano. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he lifts his head towards the neon lit sign noticing he’s outside of a night club. Maybe he could go and have a bit of a listen to the music? he shrugs his shoulders.

Why not?

Quietly, Elvis scans his eyes around the dimly lit bar room, seeing only a few black middle aged ladies in their best attire, smiling and laughing with each other with dainty little glasses in their hands. It’s not as busy as he thought it would be.

Then as he hears a piano play again, he looks towards the sound and his breathing comes to a halt. You’re on stage with a microphone in your hand, he didn’t know you worked as a bar singer. He gulps as he sees you in that black sparkly cocktail dress and your hair flowing down your back. Good Lord.

Elvis shakes his head and realises he might be staring too much so clearing his throat, he glances around to find a seat.

He sits at a two person table and decides to keep his head lowered, he might embarrass himself somehow, he doesn’t know how but it’s better being safe than sorry but as Elvis presses his lips together, the gravity pull of your voice through the speakers just demands him to look at you.

Is he gonna be able to look away?

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen.. The song I’ll be singing for you tonight is a song that I have always called a favourite when I was little…and it goes something like this” you chime with a soft smile.

Oh that smile.

The piano starts the song off and as the bass soon follows after, the cheerful sounds of the song fills out the room. The first word you sing makes Elvis physically melt.

“I don’t want to set the world on fire”

You smile sweetly and the older ladies there cheer you on with “That’s my girl!” and “That’s right!”

“In my heart I have but one desire”

His eyes soften.

“I’ve lost all ambition, for worldly acclaim”

Elvis brings his arms up to rest on the table, grasping his hands together and looking at his hands to try to just listen to your voice.

“I just want to be the one you love…”

Oh your sweet fluttery voice

He really can’t look away.

As you sway your hips subtly and bring your hand up to rest on the pianist's shoulder, Elvis bites down on his tongue. Gliding across the stage you walk down the steps and onto the bar floor, Elvis’ eyes darting all over you from your jaw to your hips and down to your ankles.

He lets out a stiff sigh and leans back in his chair.

“I don’t wanna set the world on fire, honey”

You sing with a giggle, taking slow and elegant steps towards the bar where the other women are, yelling and giggling at your cheeky little smile.

Elvis’ hand twitching, he sighs again while he lifts his hand to drag down the bottom half of his face.

“I love you too much” you add, making the ladies whistle playfully.

Elvis doesn’t even notice how his leg is bouncing nervously under the table, all he can think about is his heart floating across the room to the palm of your hand for you to squeeze, break, just do anything with it.

“You see…way down inside of me”

His heart pumps loudly in his ears as you turn your head and look into his eyes, walking slowly towards him.

“Darlin’ I have only one desire….and that desire is you” His heart clenching in the softest way as you give him a happy smile, realising who he is.

The small thumps from your heels make him hold his breath, sensing you walking behind his chair, a shiver drips down his spine as you place your hand on his shoulder.

Feeling you bend down over his shoulder, he lets out a small breath through his slightly parted lips.

“And I know…nobody else ain’t gonna do”

His chest almost stutters as he breathes in, your soft, sultry voice sending ticklish waves into his ears and into his brain. Feeling your warm breath lingering below his ear onto his neck, his hands adjust over the center of his pants.

“Did you like that, Presley?”

#elvis presley #Hope you like it lovelies!💕 #elvis #elvis fans #i love him #elvis imagine #50s elvis #elvis fandom #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #Spotify

[aeneaans]

never real enough

synopsis: neuvillette is in love—he wishes he wasn’t.

word count: 758

c/w: angst, no comfort

a/n: i wrote this in like. maybe an hour and did not edit it at all please bear with me

He had always known there was a great divide between the life of a human and a life like his—a dragon. His days seemed to be endless, yet, one of a human’s was so short lived. Was it pity that he felt? No, humans still managed to make the most of their short life. So what was this feeling that resides in his chest now?

It was almost suffocating, the thought consumed him for days, weeks, even. The concept of love, a novel idea made by humans—or so he thought. It was until he met you, which seemed like yesterday. It’s been a few years since the two of you met. It didn’t seem like a long time until she mentioned it almost a month ago.

“That’s right…a month. It’s been a month since my Lady Furina—” He immediately cut himself off before he could finish his own thought. These frivolous thoughts have been plaguing his mind for no good reason, he thinks.

He clenched his fist, unable to focus on the documents that lie neatly across his desk. You haven’t visited in a while. Though, nobody in their right mind would. It’s been pouring for the past two weeks, which is usually no surprise for most citizens of Fontaine, but this was different.

Archons above, this wasn’t just rain. It was practically a flood, to put it lightly. The trees were blown by harsh winds, the few functioning Aquabuses left delayed. There wasn’t a single soul in sight if one were to look out the window, if you could even see anything beyond the heavy rain.

It didn’t hit him until recently, but give him some time. He’s not good at these things. Love: a distant, alien concept to the unmovable, unbiased Iudex of Fontaine. And yet, there could be no other possible explanation for this—this feeling. He thought he was ill at first, yes, illness was the only possible answer. He went to every doctor in Fontaine and, no, not a single proper explanation. So he turned to his last resort—Furina.

“Dear Chief Justice, you can’t possibly be serious.” Is what she had said to him. “You’re in love!” And as stupid it sounded to him, it was the only logical explanation. His cheeks flushed when he saw you, his heart beating at abnormal rates whenever you say something cheesy to him…Yes, it was love.

Typically, humans would be flustered. They were in love? It isn’t to say that he wasn’t flustered at first, but then reality hit him. You’re a human. He’s…not.

It simply wasn’t meant to be. Humans are fragile—their lifeline only a tiny fraction of his. Even if you were to return his silly feelings, what then? What would come of a relationship? He doesn’t understand how he could possibly be a good lover, nor could he ever even be loveable at the least. What would become of him once you leave this world? The mere thought of you dying—leaving him—scares him. He lowers his head, gripping his pen harder, staring at the puddle of ink he left on the page.

“That’s right, there’s no use pondering this matter… I’m thinking ahead of myself.” Is what he thought.

Every single day, he reassured himself. If he was the only one that was affected because of his unrequited feelings, then that’s fine by him. He could bear it. So why does he still feel this crushing feeling on his soul—his very being? After all, there’s no chance you could even begin to love someone like him. Someone as awkward, unfeeling as him? There’s no possible way.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how someone like you could ever—!

No, forget it. Self-deprecating thoughts aren’t any good for him.

“Don’t always think so low of yourself, yeah? It doesn’t do any good.” That’s something you told him. Something you told him.

***

Something you told him. Yet another month had passed, this time, things were drastically different.

Why did you have to make things so hard for him? You could have just kept it to yourself, like he had. So why? Why did you tell him how you felt?

It poured harder than ever before when he saw the look of complete and utter disappointment on your face when he said the words he did. He didn’t think he’d ever feel such despair, but he did.

“It’s okay.” You smiled, pursing your lips.

No, it wasn’t okay. How could any of this ever be okay? He didn’t understand anything, nothing at all.

After all, Neuvillette is far from being ‘human.’

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette angst #neuvillette x you #neuvilette genshin

[pedgito]

Currently thirsting over the idea of Eddie in those tiny gym shorts that Steve and Billy wore for basketball practice. THIGHS. Slutty little waist. I can't.

this is very tame but it made me laugh because i can so clearly imagine eddie like this.

Eddie taking them from Steve as a joke, snorting at the sight of them and holding them up like a scandalizing article of clothing between two fingers. Steve rolls his eyes because it’s really not that big of a deal but Eddie’s never even thought of the idea of wearing such a thing.

He’s not nearly as toned or tan—sure, he was in decent shape, lean and fit where it counted, but his skin was pasty white and not nearly as enticing as Steve’s. At least, that’s how he looked at it.

Steve insists that he finally takes a pair, tired of having to listen to him rip into him about how short they are, how ridiculous the team looks wearing them—but really, he just doesn’t understand. So, when walks into the trailer that night it’s almost a given that you force him to try them on, even if only for a few minutes.

He strips his jeans off, but you interrupt with a quick head shake. “All of it.” You dare with a smile that has Eddie blushing full body, “Gotta get the full affect, right?”

And he was all wrong, because the moment he slips them on, he’s hooked. You can’t help but stifle the giggle into your hand, eyes lighting up at the sight. The green contrasting against his alabaster skin perfectly, body littered in ink from his chest to his thighs and it’s mouthwatering, the subtle bump of his hipbones peeking out from above the waistband.

He’s always had nice thighs, firm and perfect for, well, everything. A seat, a ride, they were very versatile. But like this, it’s almost unbearable. Eddie can’t even take himself seriously when he looks at himself in the mirror for the first time, turning in a circle for a full view, face contorting up into a expression of disbelief, embarrassment, and confusion. His eyes are wide and comical and it never fails to make you smile.

“I’m gonna have to beg Steve to retire those shorts to you,” You tell him, peeking behind him in the mirror, fingering coming up to snap at his waistband, “they’re really—“

“I think I get it now.” Eddie decides, hand rubbing lazily over his stomach as he takes in the view from the front, junk pressed obscenely against the fabric.

“Yeah—but those are definitely a bedroom only type deal,” You giggle softly, “unless you want to scare the neighbors with how visible your dick is in those, not that I don’t mind.”

“Is that why you used to go to all of Steve’s games?” He’d asked, suddenly piecing it all together. “Does Harrington know you gawked at his ass like that?”

“Oh, he’s aware.” You assure him, smiling with amusement, “He’s also a friend and I support him, but the shorts are definitely a bonus.”

Eddie hums appreciatively, glancing at himself in the mirror again.

“Steve swore it was him that was the lady magnet—but I stand by the shorts being the biggest factor.”

Steve didn’t have nearly as much game as he thought he did, not anymore, at least.

“He’ll never let you live it down if he saw you like this.” You remind Eddie playfully, “Ever.”

“And that’s exactly why this is our secret.” Eddie warns, “Steve couldn’t handle these thighs.”

You nod in agreement, lips pursed together. “Oh, absolutely.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #steddie x reader #my writing #i’m cackling

[cheezbites]

Headcanons of Dating Ghost PT.3

✎: Fun fact, part one is on 600+ NOTES??? HOLY SHIT?!? THANK Y’ALL SO MUCH😋!!! (You don’t need to read the other parts to read this one)

🌸Part One

💕Part Two

♡Summary: Wholesome headcanons of dating Ghost PT.3 <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷.-*

Bf!Ghost loves seeing you wear his clothes. Although you practically own or have worn at least half of his wardrobe, he still gets that same content feeling that surges throughout his body when he sees you lounging in one of his t-shirts. They looked way baggier on you, but that makes it even better. No matter what you’re wearing, he’ll always do a double take, smile, and say:

“It looks cuter on you, keep it.”

Bf!Ghost never backs down from his light hearted pranks, no matter what day, season or time it is. Halloween was coming up and he remembered that uncannily misplaced skeleton prop in your garage, slowly withering away as other things piled on top of it. Compared to how it was originally bought, it honestly looked ten times scarier. The quality was worn out and old, perfect for the prank he was about to play on you.

He stood at the end of the dimly lit corridor, calling out your name like he needed your help with a favour.

“Y/N?” he said, trying to contain his laughter by clearing his throat.

“Hmm?”

“C’mere for a sec, ‘need yer help with something.”

You turned your corridor’s lights on before making your way to where his voice was, before you made the final turn he held the flimsy skeleton prop out which admittedly scared you half to death.

“Boo.”

“Ahhh,” you replied, trying to mask how genuinely scared you were with his thoughtless prank. He saw how scared you were, even if it was very, very brief.

“The skeleton checks out,” you quipped, rolling your eyes.

Bf!Ghost always ties your shoe laces for you. Always. It’s honestly became a tradition for whenever you guys go out.

“You ready to go?” you asked, kneeling down to slip on your Jordan’s.

“Wait, I forgot something.”

You expected him to make a quick trip upstairs to grab whatever he forgot, but he suddenly knelt down in front of you, catching you off guard for a second until you realised what he was doing.

You stood up, smiling down at him as he effortlessly tied your shoes.

“Aw, such a gentlemen.”

You always tease him for his officious habits, just like how he always keeps them up.

Bf!Ghost is used to solving your unserious petty arguments with pillow fights. Upon hearing a satirical remark from him, you’d grab any nearby pillow and thwack his face with it. He would grab a pillow and use it to shield his face before you guys have a blast with pillows. They always start off with teasing before they gradually grow in competitiveness. He’s fully aware he can easily win each and every single time but he still acts defeated so you can win. But you still are pretty good at beating people with pillows… is that something he should be taking note of?

“That’s it, let it all out.” He teased, still using a pillow as a shield whilst flailing it at you.

Bf!Ghost draws on your arm/thigh when he’s bored.

“Y’know ink poison is a thing, right?” you asked, still closely watching as he draws an intricate flower on your arm.

“Eh… you’ll live, dove.”

The drawings are honestly impressive, you kind of want to keep them on - possibly get them tattooed just to surprise him and catch his reaction. They’ll be worth the ink poisoning, anyways.

Bf!Ghost can’t go to bed knowing you’re upset with him. He will not go to sleep until he’s forgiven or if he sees you smile, literally. He knows you’re unaware of how many nights he’s kept himself up just because you wouldn’t talk to him and he plans on keeping it that way. He doesn’t even know why he does it, it’s just his guilty consciousness gnawing at him.

Bf!Ghost tickles you just so hear you laugh - it’s always out of nowhere, too. You could be in bed together as he’s resting his head on your stomach and out of nowhere he’d turn to face you. You curiously peer at him. His fingers make way to your stomach and start mercilessly tickling you and you’re suddenly dying from all the giggles and laughter,

“Simon!” you exclaimed through chuckles, trying to clutch onto your stomach whilst floundering his hands off.

Bf!Ghost has only one collection: his beloved teacup collection, of course. You decided to ironically gift him a skeleton cup you saw when you were shopping. God, if you only knew how much that flimsy cup with that cute little chibi cartoon style skeleton waving a British flag around meant to him.

It’s his go to cup each time he drinks tea, which is everyday. If any of his lads comes over and he’s casually sipping his tea, he never fails to mention how you got it.

“The misses got me this,” or something along those lines. He completely abandoned his other ones, this was just his signature cup.

Bf!Ghost has his occasional late night cravings, some weird, some not. But he’s just continually found himself having them and each time it’s at night. He’s not one to typically participate in British stereotypes, well… sometimes. But the urge for a good ol’ beans on toast was starting to get irrepressible. You were willing to try some, too. It honestly wasn’t even bad - in fact, it was good. You added some cheese on yours for the sake of the exquisiteness, so did he. You guys also mix any drinks you have together like odd scientists taking ‘shots’.

Bf!Ghost was trying his very hardest to keep quiet as you took a nap on him. He was a light sleeper, it was only natural to assume everyone else was. He’d inherently hold his breath every now and then whilst keeping his body meticulously still. When he felt faint and dizzy, that’s when he knew about his involuntary breath holding. Little did he know, you were deep in sleep. There could be a boisterous, off-beat 80s band playing and you would still be knocked out.

Bf!Ghost had a long, dreadful day - so did you. You were both burned out and feeling so overstimulated from the lingering buzz of people and their loud conversations and the dizziness from somehow feeling faint. When you have days like this, you’d silently endure in each other’s company, laying with each other in bed with a comfortable tranquility. You’d just appreciate each other being there as his warm hands are wrapped around you. You were both feeling unbothered. but the only person you could both bare seeing at the moment was each other.

•••╰┈➤Masterlist

Dating Gaz

Dating Price

Dating König

#ghost #ghost cod #cod ghodt #simon riley #simon ghost riley #modern warfare #cod #call of duty #call of duty ghost #simon riley headcanons #headcanons #headcanons cod #cod x reader #x you #self insert #x yn #yn #y/n #x f!reader #x reader cod #x yn cod #call of writers #masterlist #konig #boyfriend #hehehe #idk i didn’t proofread bro.

[rainbowchaox]

QSMP! Phil Character Analysis and How It Relates to Pissa

Okay so this is primarily coming from my tired thoughts in the discord run by the true pissa general aka @pepper-mintzyy. I’m gonna flesh it out here with much more detail.

I first came to this whole analysis because Phil always makes subtle characters. Most of his characters don’t verbalize what his motives or emotions. And his characters are always on the show not tell. And this is important because this trait of our his characters is the same in Qsmp!Phil and it’s a important to realize how this is so important to the pissa ship as whole . Because it’s literally why cubito Phil reacts the way he does towards those he especially loves (Aka Missa)

Phil loves to be subtle with his characters. Like I said above he is a show not tell with his characters. Usually his characters are layered and complicated. So much so he is never really honest with his own emotions. Primarily as a way to make sure he is ready for the next threat. The next enemy. He worries so much for the possibilities of danger he feels he can’t be distracted by emotions. He rather repress emotions then those he loves and cares for actually be in danger because he couldn’t get his emotions in check.

So knowing this of course he got paired with Missa whose emotions bleed out like ink. For the better or for the worse (Maybe I will eventually do a twin analysis on Missa character and how it relates to the pissa ship on a later date.)

And this is unknown territory for Philza. Because Philza as a character is always in survival mode. Sure Missa is emotional and illogical at times. But Missa is kind and gentle. And Philza is not used to this. But Missa as a person brings calm and comfort. Philza doesn’t feel like he could be in fight any minute when he is with Missa. Sure Missa can’t protect him in terms of fighting mobs. But Philza doesn’t need him to do so. Philza just wants him there.

So of course Philza will start to see Missa differently. And I think he knows he loves Missa. Philza isn’t dumb to his own feelings. He just can’t bring himself to say it verbally in case of possible danger. It’s hard for him to do things that go against his idea of being ready, of being strong, of being able to not be weak. Even if his perceived weakness is actually a strength.

So his love for Missa primarily comes out in loyalty, of waiting for him to come back when anybody else would have given up, in gifts, and in simple gestures that look like nothing but is actually everything. In the fact he matched his backpack to fit Missa. The fact he was so worried about him when he came back. I truly believe he knows he loves Missa. But whether it’s the paranoia or stubbornness he can’t bring himself to show that fact so clearly.

He isn’t a idiot. He isn’t emotionless. He knows who he hates. Who annoys him. And who he loves. But showing that emotional side out in the open. To others who might use that fact against him to harm those he loves. He can’t have that.

So he never says I love you in words. He says I love you with new armor. He says I love you bandaging wounds. He says I love you watching your blind spot and protecting you in battle. He says I love you by giving you his utmost loyalty. A gift hardest to get and the hardest to lose. And maybe he never says I love you to Missa in words.

That doesn’t mean he loves Missa any less. They are equal in their adoration. Philza emotions are a flame under the ice. Intense in passion and loyalty. I think a part of him is scared of his own emotions. And it probably took him ages to get to a point where he could control the pyre so to speak.

But he is just a person. And people are all selfish to a point. He is a brewing contradiction of a man. He wants both worlds. He wants to proclaim he loves Missa on top of a mountain. He want’s everyone to be jealous of him and Missa. He wants a true commitment.

But also we wants safety, he wants logic, He wants not to be weak and to protect without being overwhelmed by his own emotions. He is a complicated contradiction of a man. And his actions hurt him more than anything. He wants to be with Missa so badly but he can’t bring himself to fully let himself. But the fact is he adores Missa. He will possibly do anything for Missa and his family. And maybe one day he can see. He can be the protector and have Missa in the way he actually wants. That he so called WEAKNESS might be his greatest strength. That loving someone doesn’t mean he will lose them right after. He loves Missa. And he fully want to scream that fact.

#qsmp #pissa #Deathduo #shipping #PEPPER look what you made me do #pissa newspaper

[silentwhispofhope]

*Limping to your request box* I MISSED YOU AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA FILLED WITH FLUFF!! Is it okay to request?

💞[Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU]✍️ 🖌️ - Reader is an artist and constantly draws many art in their skin because it's just so satisfying! Their soulmate Vash feels appreciated, in love, and beautiful whenever Reader's drawing appear on his skin. Their art just gives him a reason to love his skin despite skin scars 🥺 🖋️ - Reader does calligraphy, and they sometimes quote the bible doing it cause why not? Soulmate Wolfwood just looks with a soft, maybe teasing smile as he sees his soulmate's work. 😎 📜 - Reader is a poet and they randomly have ideas and prompt all throughout the day, so they grab a pen and start writing all the poetry from their head. Soulmate Knives who's intellectual and curious admires whenever his soulmate's writing appear on his skin, he just covers it from others eyes because pest don't deserve to see this beauty. 🌱

YOU CAN PICK TWO OUT OF THE THREE!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE MY FRIEND!!! 😍💝💌

- Sugar Plum Anon 💟

A/N: Just for you Sugar Plum Anon, I’ll do all three <3 I do hope you’re alright though! Please do stay safe! Since I’m doing all three, I hope you’re alright with headcanons instead of normal lil’ one shots. :)

Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU Headcanons

Vash

He was absolutely scared out of his mind when he first saw the ink appear on his skin. He even went as far as to try to scrub his skin raw, and the ink was still fresh as ever. Poor blondie is wondering how the hell something like this is happening.

Meanwhile, you’re doodling like there’s no tomorrow with your ballpoint pen, tracing the outlines of your veins and doodling smiling faces.

Over time, Vash learns to just accept the random appearance and disappearance of drawings across his body. At the end of the day, it’s like a fun little game to see what’s been sketched on him underneath his turtle neck.

It takes a while for Vash to realize that it’s his soulmate doodles appearing on his skin. Warmth floods his heart each time he thinks of this, causing him to lovely trace the marks across his own skin.

He would laugh sometimes at the sudden ink smear appearing on his skin before new sketch marks appeared, your work hypnotizing him. He especially loved when you used different colors, almost painting his skin like a canvas. Eventually, he makes the move to respond.

So imagine your surprise when you find a poorly drawn flower appear on your skin. Ensue the same panic Vash experienced when you remembered you didn’t draw that.

Wolfwood

Scrubbing his skin did nothing. Seeing the scripture on his forearm made him wonder if he had perhaps gotten too drunk the night before and had gotten a tattoo.

The fancy calligraphy was choice, especially with that proverb. For the lips of the adulterous woman drop honey, and her speech is smoother than oil. Wolfwood decided that there could be worse things etched into his skin from that old religion.

You, on the other hand, were giggling to yourself. Oh, the irony of something appearing to beautiful but naughty. A snort escapes from one of your nearby friends.

He didn’t put anymore thought into it until the next day when the ink disappeared. Lowkey, thought he was super dehydrated for him to imagine that, but nope, even after drinking tons of water, the ink was no longer on his skin.

Cue some praying. He nearly has a heart attack when more ink appears on his skin. He has to go back to the orphanage and ask the elders for help on understanding the situation. Turns out it’s a soulmate thing, one which they didn’t even bother to mention until now.

Overtime, he appreciates the calligraphy he appears on his skin, particularly when new motifs appear. Wolfwood liked seeing you test new things and watch as the ink appear on his skin.

However, he was very glad to wear long sleeves when you would write down a particularly dirty proverb like 5:19. He would always end up blushing a bright red like a tomato, a huge contrast to his normal, stoic personality.

Imagine, your surprise when you notice fresh ink on your skin. For your ways are in the full view of the LORD in basic script.

Knives

He almost didn’t see the script appear on his arms, the ink nearly blending into his suit and pale skin. His fingers traced the letters he could make out. Knives immediately knew what this meant, it was his soulmate reaching out- most likely not knowing what was happening.

He tried to ignore it the best he could and kept himself covered with his cloak. Having someone would just drag him down, make it harder to reach his goal of eradicating humanity. However, his curiosity got the best of him.

Taking another look, the bleach blond quickly recognized the letters as chords with their denoted accidentals. Luckily for him, he new how to play. It was child’s play, really.

Meanwhile, your trying to understand how to play different songs only by listening too them. You were too stubborn to look them up, very confident in your ability.

And so it became a pattern for him to decipher your song you had written on his arm. He would spend hours playing the piano, watching the notes on his arm be crossed out and replaced. The composition rarely stayed imprinted on his skin for longer than a day.

Often, Knives would see lyrics being written with the chords. A little artist are we now? His small joke to himself caused a small smile. He would end up humming them, his low voice cutting through the air. It was for the sake of rhythm, he told himself.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a new. mark you knew you hadn’t inscribed into your skin, a word marked out for another.

#trigun stampede #trigun x reader #vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #knives x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas wolfwood #millions knives #gender neutral reader #trigun #reader insert

[keresnotceres]

Ghost, Soap, & Gaz: Tattoo Parlor

SYN: headcanons if you (their lover) were a tattoo artist

[sfw] cw(s): needles.

GN Reader! this is actually fluff!! (mostly) enjoy dovies <3 (p.s it’s been a hot sec since i wrote for these mfs so i’m sorry if they’re ooc 😔🫶)

Ghost hadn’t planned on getting any more tattoos after his half-sleeve, he barely even made plans to get it retouched. However, if you asked, he’d absolutely let you ink him.

He’d have restrictions on what you could put on him; he likes his tattoos to be cohesive — to have a personal meaning. But if you came up with something he liked, he’d have no qualms sitting still while you did your work. Is particularly drawn to Fine Line and Blackwork styles of tattooing, but, again, if you come up with something he really likes, he’d let you put it on him regardless of style. (He might be really picky if it were a watercolor style tattoo, though). Is down for matching tattoos but will be damned if he’s asked to explain it when talking about the rest of his tattoos.

I like to think he’d like watching you tattoo yourself. The pure concentration on your face and the whirring of the needle creates a pretty calming atmosphere for Ghost. Do NOT let this man pick out your tattoos though. He will absolutely try to make you get some ugly ass army tattoo and you will have to convince him why you shouldn’t do that to yourself.

Gaz, while he doesn’t have any tattoos to show for it, wouldn’t be opposed to having some. Put him in coach!! He’d be excited if you told him you’d come up with a design you think he’d like/would look good on him. Would probably be a champ when it comes to actually getting the tattoo; he did tense up a bit at first due to the unnatural sensation but ended up calming down after the first half hour or so.

Intrigued by Neo Traditional tattoos, but would probably settle for anything as long as you were confident in the style. Though I do think he wouldn’t like the Patch style of tattoos. Something about them just creeps him out and he cannot explain it. I feel like Gaz is also the type to not choose a tattoo on a whim; he’s another guy to need it to have some sort of meaning behind it. For example, Gaz is the type of person to get a tattoo that is a representation of someone he loves. However, despite his sentimentality, he wouldn’t get a date or writing tattooed on him. He would be very picky if it came to matching tattoos. He doesn’t want it to be sickeningly sweet or anything but he also wouldn’t want it to just be dull and boring. Trying to find something that suits his tastes would take a lifetime, probably.

Does not like watching you tattoo yourself. Is scared of accidentally making you mess it up so he tends to stay out of your way when you’re inking yourself. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to pick out tattoos for you, though. He actually likes doing that! Let him do it!!

Soap will absolutely let you tattoo him, he’s just a little wary of the tattoo gun at first. He’s watched other people get tattoos, hell, he’s watched you tattoo yourself more times than he can count; but there’s just something about having it done to him that makes him squirm a little bit.

He finds that Blackwork style tattoos draw his attention the most, but if you were to present him with a pretty good Old School tattoo, he wouldn’t say no. He’s difficult to focus with, though. He likes to chat you up; whether it’s just striking up conversation or flirting with you non-stop, he’s chatty. At least it’s endearing that he wants to talk to you. Soap isn’t particularly keen on the idea of having matching tattoos. He is, if anything, aware. He knows that, if things were to go wrong between the two of you, he’d have a reminder of you until he could get it covered. If he was KIA, you would have the memory of the two of you immortalized on your skin.

Surprisingly really good at picking out tattoos for you to give yourself or get done. He always manages to find something that will suit your personality or blend well with the rest of your tattoos if you have a menagerie of them.

#cod mw2 #cod headcanons #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz headcanons #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #i’m back from the dead hi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, spanking, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The world is underwater. Senses dulled, eyes itchy, lungs burning. You wake to a horror just as bad as any nightmare. The lashes across your ass and thighs sting and throb terribly. You whine and pull the pillow from over your head.

Your eyes bead with tears as you try to sit up. It hurts so bad, more than before. You shake as you crawl to the edge of the bed, turning to put one foot at a time on the floor. You quiver as you stand straight and hug yourself.

You glance at the tray untouched at the end of the bed. You couldn’t eat if you tried but you definitely won’t accept any of his kindness. It’s less than that. He’s trying to trick you.

You go to the dresser and stare at your neatly folded panties. You don’t think you could even bear the satin. You take out a silky nightgown and replace your dress with it. You smell him on the garment still, on yourself.

You go to the window and press your hand to the cool pane. It’s evening now. You reach up and try to grip one of the nails there. You’re so stupid. Why would you do that?

You go back to the bed and move the tray onto the floor. You roll back under the covers and huddle into the mattress. There’s no point in trying. Not right now. You just want to sleep.

There’s a low click. You hold your breath as the door creaks open. Footsteps near the foot of the bed and stop before the tray.

“Sweetheart, are you awake?” Steve calls to you.

You don’t move as you keep the blankets high against your cheek. You hear a clink, the distinctive noise of metal on porcelain. He tuts and inhales, letting it out loudly.

“Why didn’t you eat? You have to eat, sweetheart?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and clench your jaw. You hear him, feel him getting closer. He drags his fingertips along the blanket and up the shape of your figure beneath. You can’t help but shiver.

“I know you’re awake. Why don’t you sit up and have your dinner?”

You ignore him, sucking in your lip as it trembles. He sits on the side of the bed, firmly against you as he rests his large hand on your arm. He runs his touch up to your shoulder down to your neck, tugging down the blanket.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he purrs, “you don’t have to be scared, sweetheart. I won’t punish you any more.”

You open your eyes and look at him through a sheen of tears. His thumb presses to your throat and you whimper. You pull the blanket back up and brush him away with your elbow. He retracts his hand and lets it fall to his knee in a fist.

“I understand, sweetheart,” he greets, “you’re tired. You took your punishment so good, you can relax now.”

He slips his hand behind him as he shifts and trails along your hip. He feels down along your ass and squeezes until you yipe. He quickly removes his touch and stands, clearing his throat.

“I’ll leave the food in case you get hungry,” he says… if you need me, you can tap on the door, sweetheart. Anything at all.”

You know he can’t give you what you truly need. What you want so badly. For him to go. To leave you alone.

You don’t move. Don’t make another sound. You wait. He does too. At last he gives in and leaves. Just not far enough away.

🎹

When Steve returns, he doesn’t speak. You hear the disappointment in his huff. He takes the tray out, the door shutting pointedly in his stead. You stare through the dark at the window, moonlight beaming onto the floorboards.

You’ve never felt so lost in this place. Your grandfather’s townhouse was always safe. Always a haven to come and hide away. To play the piano and just be. It’s not his anymore, it’s not even yours.

You cover your mouth to keep your emotions from spilling out. The door opens again. The soft tread of feet round the bed and the lamp on the other side casts a glow around you. You watch Steve’s shadow on the wall as he looms behind you.

He sits to remove his socks, standing to peel off his shirt. Even in his silhouette, you can see the definition in each muscle. He undoes his pants and pauses. You can’t breathe as you feel him watching you. A low growl rattles from him, a rumble from deep in his chest.

He pushes back the blanket, cool air tickling up the back of your nightgown. You gulp and brace the edge of the mattress. As he lowers himself beside you, you pull yourself away from him. He bounces slightly as he gets comfortable, laying on his back as he reaches to turn off the lamp.

He rolls onto his side and you shove the blankets away from your body. You lower yourself to the floor, taking a pillow with you, and lay on the border of the rug. You curl up and shiver.

“Sweetheart,” Steve says in confusion, “where are you going?”

You don’t answer him. Why can’t he understand? Why would you want to be near him? 

“Come on, get back up here,” he coaxes, “I’m not mad anymore.”

You are, you pout into the darkness. The bedframe groans and he exhales again, something on the precipice of a snarl.

“Sweetheart, I’m being nice and asking you to get back in bed.”

Silence.

“Now.”

You dig your nails into the tender flesh of your arms and bend your legs tight to your body. You steel yourself for his wrath as the springs compress beneath his weight. His feet come down just behind you and a brittle whine escapes you.

He bends and scoops you up in his arms. Easily. Too easy. He’s so much stronger. It doesn’t matter what you say or do. You can’t fight him.

He turns and puts you back in the bed, laying you down carefully. He quickly climbs in behind you, nestling against the curve of your body as he hooks an arm around you. You shake and grasp onto his thick wrist.

“Get off of me. Please,” you beg.

“Sweetheart, change your tone.”

You sniff and stay quiet. You can’t argue with him. You know that already but you’re not thinking straight. Your fear makes it hard to focus. All you know is you don’t want him near you, but you can’t make him go.

“That’s it, just relax,” he purrs into your hair, “Isn’t this nice? Just the two of us?”

You don’t reply but he hardly seems to notice. His hand creeps along your stomach, forcing its way between your middle and your bent legs. He grips your thigh and forces it straight. You squeak as he straightens your body and draws you flush against his front. Wait, no!

You feel him against your ass, through the thin layer of silk. He’s completely naked. More frighteningly, he’s hard. He’s excited by this. Intoxicated by your fear.

“Mm, you smell nice, baby,” he nuzzles your ear, “you’re so warm.” His hand wanders further, his fingers curling as he gathers up the front of your nightgown, “let me be nice to you.”

Your hand shoots down and you grab his hand, keeping him from going any further. He inhales your scent and shakes away your grip. He traces along the line of your pelvis and you tremble, helplessly resting your palm over his veiny hand. Please, please, stop.

“Steve,” you say his name, hoping to break him of his trance, “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

He groans and his fingertips brush along your vee of hair. He hums and plays daintily with the curls. You feel his muscles draw taut through his stomach and chest. He brings a leg forward and hooks it over yours, pulling it back as he delves his fingers between your folds.

He buries his hand between your things, pushing against your cunt, the rough flesh firm to your clit. You murmur and bite your lip. You don’t know what to do to make him stop. You curl your fingers around his hand.

“Please,” you mewl, “I never…”

He’s silent and still. He keeps his hand lodged between your legs and draws you closer, tangling his leg in yours. He pinches the rim of your ear with his teeth and snarls.

“I can wait, sweetheart,” he rasps hotly against your scalp, “just let me hold you.”

He doesn’t move. His hand remains as it is as he pulls his head back behind yours, his nose against your crown as his long breaths storm around you. You dip your chin down and try to calm your furiously beating heart. 

“Okay,” you agree, if only to keep him from trying anything else.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #tattoo au #au #drawn together #mcu #marvel #captain america

[whittlore]

I'm so indecisive.... anyways ig that's his official design, more accurate to his backstory — and his current situation.

I'm just gonna explain the reason why he's designed like this now :

the splotches are vial splotches... he's a mistake, he was never supposed to exist. which by the way if he doesn't look exactly like all the sanses is because he took the closest form he could when forming, and when doing so everything was blurry to him the only examples he had at the moment was error, fresh, blue and ink. which turned him into his current form. that also had an impact on other parts of his body leaving vial marks that are literally malformation spots.. it was supposed to be covered by the bones but somehow it failed, they're like scars that didn't recover as it was supposed to or like he prefers to call them, 'birthmarks' reason why he covered half of his arms.

under his eye sockets, they're scratches due to intense pain in his pupils... when he forces too much on his magic his pupils ends up glitching, to 'cope' with it he took the bad habit of scratching under his eye sockets which left marks like these.

➥ though it's only the case when he uses impassive, it does still hurt when he forces on regular magic but it's not really painful, just blinding him. [but yk, out of habit he will scratch]

his darker clothes because he hates colorful thingies, it reminds him too much of how he wasn't supposed to be here and his connection to vials, though his abilities itself are very colorful [lol] and the golden accessories to match with 'his one and only' shattered dream.

[all of this are actually update on his background, his back story is also updated.. which I'll bring later on as a comic or just written]

this is his soul, scared when he ripped impassive [emptiness] from him.

aannnnd that's it ig!

#sans au #undertale #art #undertale au #alternate universe #sans undertale #sans oc #fanart #my ocs #sans #ut au #undertale art #my art #my artwork #au undertale #au sans #fannart #fan art #fandom #undertale fanart #undertale au fanart #hitchprint #hitch #hitchprint!sans

[mewpangxin]

— OVERBLOTS! X GN! READER —

⋆ ࣪. ❤︎ . ┊Riddle, Azul and Malleus in this. (Gift fic for @cxlemon / @cxsinesis ) . ┊

▍ CW: Suggestive, yandere, aggression, possessive tendency, toxic, and etc.

♢˚‧Riddle Rosehearts ♢˚‧

• He would be very cruel to you.

• His words were twenty times sharper.

• If you defied his orders or whims, he’d be fuming, his piercing red eyes brimming with raw wrath.

• It was better to not test him in this state where he can't control his mentalities and feelings.

• —WHY CAN’T YOU BE PLIANT TO HIM?!

• Fantastic. You successfully angered him.

• Riddle’s clawed fingers digging into your waist, he seemed to be contemplating on disciplining you.

• A sensual grin etched along in his eerie voice. Then he gripped your chin with a guttural hiss at you.

• “—I believe I have been too lenient, my darling. Your misdeeds must be corrected, I have an idea of how I will motivate you on your uncouth thoughts.”

♢˚‧ Azul Ashengrotto ♢˚‧

• Using his force to cage you into his hold.

• He was willing to throw away his pride for you.

• If that doesn't work, he will threaten to choke you with his tentacles and his magic, shutting you up.

• You were being too persistent on leaving him.

• Was it because he was not ENOUGH?

• You were shivering like a prey in front of him.

• Azul looked so disappointed at you.

• He can fix this.. he will! So.. return back to him, won't you? There was desperation in his smile.

• “My pearl, why don't you heed my advice? Does the sight I'm in frightened you that much? No matter, I'll give you ten seconds, and if you do not come to me. Your so-called-friends will die for it.”

♢˚‧Malleus Draconia♢˚‧

• He was 100% unhinged was how you understood.

• And yes, you were on point there.

• With the putrid odor that caused you to be really nauseous and has the need to vomit.

• The air was coated by the thick scent of ink.

• Was this the 'Tsunotarou' that you were familiar of?

• You were scared of what he will do to you.

• Except Malleus does not let you go.

• It was as if he can see through your intentions.

• “My everything, you are rather confused, are you not? Don't fight against it. Listen to my lullabies, succumb into it, there will be no terror in your dreams. And I shall be with you. Forever.”

#twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst x you #twst imagines #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twst riddle x reader #twst azul x reader #twst malleus x reader #twst headcanons #gender neutral reader #twst prompts #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst overblot #overblot riddle #overblot azul #overblot malleus

[thedirtybeanlife]

Random Task Force 141 Headcannons That I Need to Get Out of My Head

-Ghost-

has the biggest heart ever and refuses to show it to 99.9999% of the population

sleeps with a nightlight because he's scared of the dark

has a strict routine after missions are over, and he gets irritated if it's interrupted

prefers savory over sweet

enjoys beans on toast and eats it nearly every morning

listens to so much Queen and old classic rock

hates noisy environments

thinks a hot dog is a sandwich

likes dogs; bigger the better

^^ wants a st. bernard and plans on rescuing one when he retires

always carries a lighter and a single slightly bent cigarette on him

he doesn't smoke it, but he takes it out and looks at it every so often. nobody knows why

(it's his moms)

occasionally, if the times line up right, he stays with Price when they're both on leave.

they usually just grill and talk on the back patio sharing a bottle of the best whiskey they could find on short notice having the most random conversations

makes soap sew parts of his mask back together because he can never thread the string through the needle and Soap has steady hands

refuses to eat seafood

wears fake designer colognes that smell exactly like the real thing and lies about it

has never used mens 3-in-1 and brags about it

-Soap-

the worst case of adhd to ever exist

expert at cleaning guns

loves puzzles with complicated pictures

tired to learn how to play guitar and gave up on the first day

it still sits against the dresser in his room

skydives with practicing trainees when he gets bored

listens to the weirdest mix of music

i.e. Black Sabbath to Childish Gambino

(Gaz influences a lot of his music taste)

always has hidden candy somewhere

broke his wrist once and didn't realize until almost a week later

when he brushes his teeth he practically showers in toothpaste from how violent he does it

spends a lot of his time drawing whatever comes to mind in a small notepad he keeps in his pocket

gordon ramsey level chef over here

the entire task force begs him to cook for them when they have free time

has a shitty stick n poke tattoo on his ankle he did when he was 16 with pen ink and an earring

it's an uneven, wobbly smiley face with x's as eyes

is either really calm or really chaotic

no in between

-Gaz-

loud, contrary to popular belief

at least when he's not out in the field or working

avid video gamer

loves calm games like Stardew and Minecraft

the best music taste to ever exist

can also cook pretty well

soap and him often team up and play their own version of Chopped when they're bored on base

has a golden retriever named Max that stays with his sister when he's deployed

he got Max before he enlisted

hates beans on toast

beans make him gag

Ghost bullies him for it

likes working on the military vehicles and learning about how they work

even with his young age, he struggles more with technology than most of his superiors

doesn't like drinking or being intoxicated in any way

complains he's hot but proceeds to sit under five different blankets

will eat an entire pack of Oreo's in one sitting if you let him

please don't let him

he gets sick and complains that his stomach hurts all day

-Price-

big morning person

always awake by 5:00am

prefers his coffee overly sweet rather than bitter and black

has a small office in his house where he keeps his fancy cigars, liquors, and whiskey glasses

collects cool lighters

the team buys him a new one every year for Christmas

reads every morning when he drinks his daily morning coffee and every night before he goes to sleep

he's supposed to wear glasses but he doesn't like the way he looks in them so he only wears them when he absolutely can not see

cat person all the way

like Ghost, he's waiting to retire until he gets a new furry companion

he's not the best chef in the world, but he can cook a decently good meal

likes to help soap and gaz sometimes, especially if they let him grill something

gets stressed really easily, which makes his job so much harder

this poor man deserves a year long vacation istg

winter is his favorite season

root beer barrels are his favorite candy

always has some stashed somewhere on his person no matter where he is

absolutely has a dollar shave club subscription and uses the code from a survival YouTuber he watches

#fanfiction #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #fanfic #mw2022 #simon riley x reader #xreader #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #cod fic