#multifandom writer

[howyoulovelikeweaponskill]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ THE CORRUPTION BEGINS WITH THE MOUTH, THE TONGUE,

— THE WANTING.

empty | mid twenties | multifandom writer. | mdni

RECENT WORKS:

you’re drunk - simon ghost riley. part one. part two.

THE FIRST POEM IN THE WORLD IS ‘I WANT TO EAT.’ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[bleedvelvet]

Hear me out…submissive Josh making you suck him off…whimpering and crying because of the pleasure….gosh I’m crazy BYESS

this ask is like at least two months old but i’m HERE HELLO HII :D

✭.✭.✭.✭.⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ .✭.✭.✭.✭.

`✭ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⭒ Sub! Josh x GN + Dom! Reader :3

✭ sucking DICK, shit writing, whiny josh, some gagging, hair pulling, crying, lowkey edging but not really, josh being a spoiled brat (insert charli xcx), idk what else to put here

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

Sub josh is so hot…. ouhh..

Josh with his hand in your hair, not really pulling (at first), moreso just holding, maybe guiding once he gets more desperate... All out of breath, struggling to say literally ANYTHING semi-coherent, a breathless “oh, Jesus,“ followed by a sharp gasp and a “fuck-“ his grip getting a little tighter whenever you up the force just a little, maybe a hand on his thigh- something about that seems like it would TOTALLY do him in, like tears in his eyes, flushed face and choked/whiny moans… mhmmmm…

oh my god and if you pulled off of him for a sec, just to fuck with him???? OOHHHHH he’d whine so good. “Fuck, babe- don’t-“ (insert breathless, whiny-groan type sound-) “don’t stop, don’t- fuck-“ if his hand is still in your hair, it’s def pulling now, he’s just SO tense… but it would definitely make the moment you give him what he wants, more, that release- SOOO much better. You’d be able to feel his thighs get all tense, and see the way the muscles just below his navel tense up, too. His head leaning back, hands all shaky in your hair AAAUGHHH FUCK GOD FUCK.

.✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭ .✭

✭ plz forgive this being ass!!!!!! i am horrible at writing head scenes i fear…. and have not written in months (like i don’t think i have properly written anything since before new years? maybe christmas??? yall this shits FUCKED), that being said i still lurk and the continued support on my works has been WONDERFUL :3 lots of luvs !!! xox

✭.✭.✭.✭.⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ .✭.✭.✭.✭.

💋 Taglist ↳ @boom-butterflyeffect @drakudoll @l0relaii @admirationandromantics @spaceycat

[shortnspidey]

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 & 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 ─ (𝐌𝐀𝐘'𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍) ─

✧ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ✧

❥ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

❥ 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒

❥ 𝐁𝐎𝐁 𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐒

❥ 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

❥ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄

✧ 𝐃𝐂 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ✧

❥ 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓

✧ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ✧

❥ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘

✧ 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 ✧

❥ 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

❥ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍

✧ 𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐆𝐔𝐍: 𝐌𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 ✧

❥ 𝐁𝐎𝐁 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃

❥ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐍

✧ 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ✧

❥ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

❥ 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

❥ 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

LAST UPDATED: APRIL 28, 2026

ALL WRITING BELONGS TO ME ©️SHORTNSPIDEY

[enemiestolovershoe]

can you write one were reader is matts sister and Noahs best friend and the band always tease the shit out of them when their glued together? thank you:)

Subtle’s Overrated

Noah Sebastian x bsf!dierkes!reader

Summary: Y/N and Noah’s friendship sparks teasing and undeniable chemistry on tour, but when feelings finally surface, nothing—especially their bandmates—can keep them apart.

Words: 4k

Warnings: Teasing, Friends to Lovers, Use of Alcohol, Mention of smoking weed, I din't proofread it so maybe there's gonna be mistakes. lmk if i forgot something.

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The airport was buzzing with early morning activity, travelers pulling their luggage through the terminal, announcements echoing overhead. You were leaning against one of the sleek chrome pillars, your carry-on by your feet, scrolling through your phone to pass the time.

Noah was right beside you, as usual. He had his arms crossed, a hoodie tugged over his messy hair, and he was squinting at the boarding pass in his hand like it was written in hieroglyphics.

"I swear they make these things harder to read every year," he muttered, flipping it over like the back might offer some hidden insight.

"It’s not a riddle, Noah," you said with a laugh, reaching out to snatch it from him. "Gate 22. Terminal C. You’ve been doing this for years, and you still act like it’s your first time at an airport."

"Not all of us are travel pros like you, princess," he shot back, smirking as he leaned casually into your space.

Before you could reply, a loud wolf whistle interrupted the moment.

"Ah, look at ‘em! Joined at the hip, as always!" Nick Folio’s voice carried across the terminal as he walked over, balancing a precariously large coffee in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. "Should we just start planning the wedding now?"

"Shut up, Folio," you groaned, rolling your eyes, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your nonchalance.

"Yeah, shut up, Folio," Noah parroted, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. "Jealousy’s a bad look on you."

Nick feigned hurt, clutching his chest. "Jealous? Me? Never. I just think you two make a cute couple."

"Do you ever let up?" Jolly chimed in as he approached, his bag slung over one shoulder. "I mean, they’ve been attached at the hip since day one, and nothing’s happened yet. Maybe they’re just... eternal besties."

"Or they’re both in denial," Matt teased, appearing out of nowhere and clapping Noah on the back hard enough to make him stumble. "Classic slow burn."

"Right, because you’re such an expert on relationships," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at your older brother.

"Hey," Matt replied, grinning. "Just calling it like I see it. And as your big brother, it’s my job to keep the guy glued to your side in line."

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, shaking your head as the rest of the group laughed.

"Big brother or not, you’re still a pain," Noah quipped, though there was no malice in his tone.

"As if you’re one to talk," Matt retorted, pointing at him. "If I had a dollar for every time you’ve mooched off her snacks, I’d be retired by now."

The group chuckled, and even you couldn’t help but crack a smile. This was the usual routine, and as much as you liked to complain about it, it was comforting in a way.

As the teasing died down, Nicholas Ruffilo joined the circle, pulling out his phone. "So," he began, "who’s gonna be the one to lose their luggage this time?"

"My money’s on Noah," Jolly said without hesitation.

"Why me?" Noah protested, looking genuinely offended.

"You lost your passport twice last year," Jolly replied flatly.

"That’s different!"

"How?"

"Uh, it just is," Noah said, his argument faltering as you snorted.

"I’ll help you keep track of your stuff this time," you offered, patting his shoulder mockingly.

"You’re a saint," he said, putting a hand over his heart. "An angel sent to save me from myself."

"Don’t encourage him," Matt groaned, shaking his head.

The overhead speakers crackled to life, announcing the boarding process for your flight. Matt immediately took charge, ushering everyone toward the gate.

"Alright, lovebirds, let’s move it," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"We’re not—"

"Save it," Nick interrupted, throwing an arm around your shoulders as the group started walking. "We all know it’s just a matter of time."

You exchanged a glance with Noah, who shrugged with a small, amused smile. It was the same old joke, but this time, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

As you reached the gate, Noah fell into step beside you, close enough that your arms brushed. "You ever feel like they know something we don’t?" he asked quietly, just for you to hear.

"All the time," you admitted, your voice just as soft.

The moment hung in the air for a beat too long before Matt’s voice broke it. "Hurry up, or we’re leaving you behind!"

With a shared smirk, you and Noah picked up the pace, falling into step with the rest of the band.

The plane was relatively quiet as everyone settled into their usual spots. You slid into the window seat with a satisfied sigh, propping your backpack under the seat in front of you. Noah dropped into the middle seat beside you, and Folio followed, plopping down with a dramatic groan.

“Man, who made planes so cramped?” Folio grumbled, stretching his legs as far as they could go without hitting the seat in front of him.

“Quit complaining, Folio,” Matt called from his aisle seat, shooting him a look over Ruffilo’s head. “You know it’s worse on the tour bus.”

“True, but at least I don’t get stuck in the middle of these two on the bus.” Folio gestured to you and Noah. “You’re like magnets, always leaning into each other.”

“Jealous you’re not in the middle?” Noah quipped, earning a snort from Jolly.

“Nah, man. I just don’t want to be collateral damage when this whole slow-burn romance finally combusts,” Folio said, winking at you.

You groaned and shoved his arm lightly. “You guys really need new material.”

“Maybe we’ll stop when you two finally admit it,” Jolly chimed in, earning a chorus of agreement from the others.

Noah just smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Keep dreaming, guys.”

As the plane took off and the initial excitement of the flight settled down, everyone fell into their own routines. Matt pulled out his laptop, muttering something about emails, while Ruffilo popped in his earbuds and started sketching on his tablet. Folio tapped away on his phone, and Jolly was already half-asleep, head tilted against the window.

You glanced at Noah, who was scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “What are you looking at?” you asked softly.

“Nothing interesting,” he said, tilting the screen toward you briefly before locking it. “You thinking of sleeping?”

“Maybe,” you replied with a yawn, leaning your head back. “Flights always make me sleepy.”

“You always knock out within the first hour,” he teased, grinning.

“Can’t help it,” you murmured, already feeling the pull of sleep. Without thinking, you shifted slightly, leaning your headagainst Noah’s shoulder. It wasn’t the first time, and judging by the way he didn’t even flinch, it wasn’t a big deal to him, either.

Time passed, and you drifted off, your breathing evening out as the noise of the plane faded into the background.

It wasn’t long before the teasing began.

“Look at him,” Jolly whispered from across the aisle, his voice low but just loud enough for Noah to hear. “He looks like he’s holding his breath.”

“I think he’s afraid to move,” Ruffilo added, smirking. “Wouldn’t want to wake her, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to move,” Noah said defensively, though he kept his voice quiet so as not to wake you. “I just don’t want her to wake up cranky.”

“Oh, sure,” Matt interjected, leaning forward to get a better look. “That’s a real heroic excuse. But let’s be honest, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re her brother. Shouldn’t you be discouraging this kind of teasing?”

“Should I?” Matt said, feigning deep thought. “Nah, this is too much fun.”

“Careful, Noah,” Folio added, nudging him. “You keep letting her nap on you, and the next thing you know, you’ll be the designated human pillow.”

“Already am,” Noah muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone.

The ribbing continued for a bit longer before everyone settled back into their respective distractions. Noah shifted slightly, trying to keep his arm from going numb under your weight. Despite the teasing, he couldn’t help but smile faintly at how peaceful you looked.

As the captain announced the descent, Noah gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, we’re landing soon. Time to wake up.”

You stirred, blinking sleepily and taking a moment to realize where you were. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah said, his voice soft. “You looked like you needed it.”

From across the aisle, Jolly piped up, “Did you get any drool on him this time?”

“Jolly!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing as the rest of the band burst out laughing.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Jolly said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Noah just smirked, grabbing your carry-on from under the seat. “Ignore them. They’re just mad they don’t have someone to nap on.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as everyone prepared to disembark.

The airport was bustling with activity as you and the band made your way outside, your bags in tow. In the bus parking lot, your familiar tour bus stood waiting. Its sleek exterior and logo had become a second home over the years.

As you approached, Folio let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, the tour bus. Where dreams of legroom come to die.”

You climbed aboard with Noah right behind you. As expected, you both took the booths across from each other—the same ones you’d claimed on every tour since your first. He threw his backpack onto the seat before flopping down, stretching his long legs.

“Surprise, surprise,” Matt said as he followed behind. “You two gravitate toward each other like it’s magnetic.”

“Yeah, we get it, Matt,” you replied, rolling your eyes but smiling. “Maybe we just like consistency.”

“Consistency, huh?” Jolly drawled, sliding into a booth further back. “Sure it’s not because you two can’t go five minutes without making googly eyes at each other?”

Noah shot him a look. “You’re projecting, man.”

“Yeah, totally projecting,” you chimed in, grinning.

“Call it what you want,” Matt teased as he threw his bag into the seat beside him, “but it’s only a matter of time before we’re writing ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ on the bus windows.”

Ruffilo smirked. “Or printing it on the next batch of merch.”

“You guys are insufferable,” you muttered, trying to suppress your laughter.

The drive to the venue was filled with similar banter, the kind that made the long hours on the road bearable. When the bus finally pulled into the lot behind the venue, everyone piled out, stretching and groaning after the ride.

Inside, the band got straight to work setting up for soundcheck. You wandered into the sound booth where Matt was stationed, helping coordinate with the crew.

“You’re still gonna be my unpaid assistant this tour, right?” he asked, grinning as you leaned against the console.

“Of course,” you said with mock enthusiasm. “Living the dream.”

As the band began their soundcheck, you couldn’t help but watch Noah. He was in his element, mic in hand, his voice effortlessly commanding the space. The way he moved, the focus in his expression—it was mesmerizing.

“Subtle,” Matt said dryly, breaking your trance.

“Huh?” You turned to him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

“Your staring,” he teased. “You’re not exactly sneaky about it.”

“I’m just watching the sound levels,” you lied, feigning nonchalance.

Matt chuckled. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

The band wrapped up soundcheck, and everyone took a break before the show. Back in the green room, the teasing resumed as everyone grabbed snacks and drinks.

“Are we gonna have to peel you two apart again tonight?” Jolly asked, smirking as he sipped his water.

“Not unless you want to lose a limb,” Noah shot back, earning a laugh from Folio.

“Relax, man,” Folio said. “We’re just pointing out the obvious. You two are like those couples in rom-coms—everyone knows what’s coming except you.”

“We’re not a couple,” you said, exasperated. “Can we change the subject?”

“No,” Ruffilo replied immediately, earning a high-five from Jolly.

As showtime approached, you found yourself backstage, the energy in the venue electrifying. The band took the stage, and you couldn’t help but sing along and dance to every song, caught up in the moment.

From where you stood, you could see Noah glancing your way more than once, a small smile tugging at his lips when he caught your eye.

When the show ended, the crowd’s cheers still echoing in your ears, you were more than hyped. The moment Noah stepped offstage, sweaty and flushed from the performance, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Y/N,” he laughed, his voice still rough from singing. “I’m literally soaked in sweat.”

“I don’t care,” you said, grinning as you held on tighter.

“Aww,” Jolly cooed from behind you. “A post-show love fest.”

“Jealous?” Noah shot back, his arms briefly tightening around you before he pulled away, though his smile lingered.

Before you could respond, Matt approached, crossing his arms as he looked at the two of you. “Still hugging, huh?”

“Don’t start,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“I’ll start if I want to,” Matt said, smirking. “But I’ve got a better idea. Drinks to celebrate the first show?”

Noah glanced at you, his brow quirking. “What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, still buzzing with excitement.

“Great,” Matt said, clapping his hands. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with music and chatter as you and the band made your way to the VIP section. The staff had cordoned off a cozy corner for you, complete with plush leather couches and a low table littered with menus and coasters.

Matt was quick to take charge, ordering the first round of drinks. He came back carrying a tray with an assortment of glasses, grinning like he’d just won a prize.

“To the first show of the tour!” he declared, raising his glass.

“To surviving another tour without killing each other,” Jolly added dryly, earning a laugh from the group as everyone clinked glasses.

The night unfolded in a haze of laughter, stories, and an ever-growing pile of empty glasses. It wasn’t long before Folio and Matt were deep into their cups, leaning heavily into their drunken states.

Folio slumped back into the couch, a lazy grin on his face. “Damn, I’m so drunk,” he mumbled to himself, chuckling. “Shouldn’t have smoked that joint during the show.”

You and Noah, seated next to each other on the crowded couch, exchanged amused glances and laughed quietly at Folio’s confession.

“What’s so funny?” Folio slurred, his glassy eyes focusing on the two of you. Then he paused, squinting as if his vision had just betrayed him. “Wait a minute… are you… sitting on his lap?”

Your cheeks immediately flushed as you realized he was right. The couches were too crowded, and at some point, you’d perched yourself on Noah’s lap to make room. It had felt casual—comfortable even—but now, under Folio’s scrutiny, it was anything but.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, trying to play it cool. “There’s no room.”

“No room,” Folio repeated, his grin widening. “Sure, let’s call it that.”

“Here we go,” Noah muttered under his breath, his arm resting lightly around your waist to keep you steady.

Folio leaned forward, as much as his inebriated state allowed, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You’re awfully cozy for two people who are ‘just friends.’”

“It’s practical,” you countered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Practical,” Matt chimed in, sliding onto the couch beside Jolly with his drink in hand. His face was flushed, his grin even wider than usual. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“No, no, let’s explore this,” Matt said, clearly delighted. “You’re telling me, out of all the space in this VIP section, the only place you could sit is on Noah’s lap?”

“Exactly,” Noah said with a straight face, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “It’s basic physics.”

“Physics,” Matt repeated, laughing. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Better than whatever logic you’re using to justify that shirt,” Noah shot back, gesturing at Matt’s garishly patterned button-up.

“Deflection,” Folio sang, pointing at Noah like he’d cracked some great mystery. “Classic deflection.”

“You two are unbelievable,” you said, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Unbelievable? No, no, no,” Matt said, his voice full of mock indignation. “What’s unbelievable is that you’ve been in each other’s pockets for years, and you’re still pretending nothing’s going on.”

Folio nodded vigorously, almost spilling his drink. “They’re like… like one of those slow-cooking stews. Taking forever, but you know it’s gonna be good when it’s done.”

Noah groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I think it’s time to get these two to bed.”

You nodded, standing up and grabbing Folio’s arm. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go.”

“I’m fine!” Folio protested, though he made no effort to resist as you and Noah guided him out of the booth.

“You’re fine, huh?” Noah said, steadying him when he stumbled. “Tell that to your liver.”

Behind you, Jolly and Ruffilo waved lazily from the booth. “We’ll hang out a bit longer,” Ruffilo called. “Good luck with those two.”

The walk back to the bus was anything but quiet.

“You two looked real comfortable back there,” Matt teased, slurring slightly but still sharp enough to make you groan.

“It’s not like that,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, focusing on getting him up the bus steps.

“Sure, sure,” Folio chimed in, leaning heavily on Noah. “Bet you’re just gonna sit on his lap the whole tour, huh?”

“Folio, shut up,” Noah said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

Once you got them into their bunks—after much coaxing and a few more poorly aimed jokes—you and Noah retreated to the living room section at the back of the bus. It was quiet now, the gentle hum of the bus’s engine filling the space.

You sank onto the couch, exhaling a long breath. “Well, that was… something.”

“Every tour starts like this,” Noah said, sitting across from you. He leaned back, stretching his arms along the top of the couch. “It’s like a rite of passage.”

You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m surprised they didn’t start singing wedding bells on the way back.”

“Oh, give them time,” he replied with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. A comfortable silence settled between you, and when you glanced up, you caught Noah watching you, his head tilted slightly, a faint smirk on his lips.

“What?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” he said, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise.

“Come on,” you pressed, leaning forward slightly. “What’s that look for?”

He shrugged, his smirk deepening. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low but teasing.

Noah’s smirk didn’t waver, his gaze steady and warm as he leaned slightly closer. The faint hum of the bus seemed louder in the quiet.

“What about me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, curiosity and nervousness mingling in your tone.

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully, and then his lips curved into a gentle smile. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught for a second, and you blinked at him, taken off guard. “What?”

He chuckled, the sound low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual confidence. “I’m serious. You are.”

A flush crept up your neck as you tried to find your voice. “Noah…”

“What?” he teased, leaning his elbows on his knees, his body angled toward you. “Can’t I say something nice without you getting all flustered?”

“I’m not flustered,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Right,” he said with a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling.

You folded your arms, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Why now? What’s with the sudden compliments?”

He shrugged, his expression softening. “Maybe it’s not sudden. Maybe I’ve always thought it, but I’m just bad at saying it out loud.”

Your heart thudded in your chest at his words. “You think… you think they were right all this time? About us?”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice steady and leaving no room for doubt.

Your stomach dropped a little. “Oh.”

He tilted his head, studying your reaction, and then his lips quirked into a small smile. “I don’t think they were right. I know they were.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in closer, his hand lightly brushing against your knee. The air between you felt charged, the space too small yet not enough.

And then he kissed you.

It started slow, tentative, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft, warm, and they lingered against yours just long enough for your breath to hitch. When you didn’t pull away—when you leaned into him, your hands instinctively finding his shoulders—it deepened.

Noah’s hand slid to your waist, guiding you closer as the kiss grew more passionate. The world outside the bus seemed to disappear, leaving only the quiet hum of the engine and the racing of your heartbeat.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled you onto his lap without hesitation. The moment felt electric, the years of teasing, tension, and unspoken words finally snapping into place.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that sent your mind spinning. You shifted slightly, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips. His hands rested firmly on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It was as if nothing else mattered, just the two of you finally crossing an invisible line that had been drawn so long ago.

And then—

“Damn, I’m wayyy too dizzy to sleep in that tiny bunk—” Folio’s voice cut through the haze, slurred but loud enough to make you both freeze.

Your head whipped around, your eyes wide, as Folio stumbled into the living room. He stopped mid-step, his eyes blinking rapidly as they focused on the scene in front of him.

“Oh,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of shock and amusement. “Ohhhhhh.”

You scrambled off Noah’s lap, your cheeks burning hotter than the sun as you tried to compose yourself. Noah, on the other hand, stayed seated, though he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and bemusement.

“Folio,” you started, your voice a pitch higher than normal. “What are you doing up?”

He pointed vaguely in the direction of the bunks. “Too dizzy. Needed air. Did not expect to walk into… whatever this is.”

“This isn’t… it’s not—” you stammered, flailing for words.

Folio smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “Nah, don’t stop on my account. Just… maybe put a sock on the door next time or something?”

“Go to bed, Folio,” Noah said, his tone exasperated but still holding a hint of a smile.

Folio gave a mock salute before stumbling back toward the bunks, muttering something about how the tour was going tobe very interesting.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you buried your face in your hands. “Oh my God.”

Noah chuckled, his hand reaching out to tug gently at your wrist, pulling your hands away. “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I imagined this going.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though your face was still flaming. “So much for subtle.”

“Subtle’s overrated anyway,” he said, his smirk returning as he pulled you back down beside him.

Taglist: @courta13

A/N: Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this as a mini-series. Also, my asks are always open—feel free to request anything!

[mysteriawrites]

Love and Deepspace boys with a Short S/O

An: this is a shit post based on how all the boys are all 6ft+ and ripped for no reason.

An 2: spoiler warning for chapter 7 and beyond.

Xavier:

You become his personal pillow/stuffed animal

He is 6’1 you can’t escape the inevitable he will find you and he will cuddle you

He will lean on your shoulder even if it’s uncomfortable with the height difference

He basically wallows on you at night and if you need to pee than good luck cause he’s a deep sleeper

V sleepy boi

Uses his build to shield you in fight

If he’s trying to protect you he will just pick you up and book it till you’re safe

Puts stuff on the high shelf unintentionally cause he regularly forgets how tall he is

Zayne:

Would use his height powers responsibly

Whenever he’s fed up with your shenanigans he just picks you up like a sack of potatoes

Whenever you miss your doctors appointments he will drag you to them if he has to he’s not messing around

Id you’re overworking yourself he will drag you home and carry you to bed

He’ll sit you in his lap while working on paperwork and you’re not allowed to leave

You’re his personal heater at night a will wrap his whole body around you

Will use his height and long ass legs as an advantage to beat you in paying for stuff

Also puts stuff on the top shelf where you can’t reach them because he thinks it’s cute to see you try but won’t admit it-

Rafayel:

You know when you first meet Rafayel and homeboy almost falls on you.

Imagine if his his 6’0 ripped merman ass actually did fall on you.

I’m 5’2 this man would absolutely squash me-

But also he would use his large build to be an absolute bratty little shit.

He would lay on top of you to keep you from getting up

He would put stuff too high so you couldn’t reach it

He would pick you up and just take you with him as if you a purse or smth

He would throw you on the bed-

Just overall very mischievous he better protect his shins because i will kick him

[watermelongirl01]

The Tattoo

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Criminal Minds x Supernatural

Summary: Your first humankind case reveals a new Hotchner´s side you didn´t know.

Content Warning: Flirty Hotch, Homicide description, Abuse, Rape, Violence, Triggering situations. (Please let me know if I let something out.)

Note: This is my version of the episode "Jones" in the early seasons, I changed a lot of the things but not all of them, It is just how I would've liked the case to be in my opinion, and obviously added a bunch of other things to fit the thread of my story, like Jason Gideon not being there. I hope you like it.

“Short stuff, are you ready?” 

“Nope”

“Come on, you’re going to be just fine.” Morgan gifted you a reassuring smile.

This was your first time filling in for a member of the group. Normally it wasn’t necessary, but the team was reduced to four. Emily was on mandatory vacation and JJ stayed at home to take care of a sick Henry, so now your presence was requested.

“It’s not what I’m used to.”

“No it’s not, but you are a great agent and will do just fine.” He said gently squeezing your arm. “You will charm them all.” 

“Of course I will, there is no doubt.” You smiled back.

“Let’s go then.” 

You both walked to the briefing room where the rest of the team was waiting, Morgan quickly walked to the empty chair In front of you, slightly pushing you to the side, leaving you with no option but to sit next to Hotch, not that you minded but lately all the members of the team have been acting a little weird.

You looked at Morgan with a questioning look but he completely ignored you and lowered his gaze to read the case files.

“We have a serial killer in New Orleans. Two men’s dead bodies were found over the last month, and a third body was found last night, the same MO, male, throat slashed, they were all found in semi-public places in the French Quarter.” You heard Penelope explain.  “The local police have no leads and no suspects so far, Mike Weller, the head detective is waiting for you.”

Hotch nodded and looked at everyone in the room. “Wheels up in thirty.” He said before disappearing out the door. 

—

When arriving, Hotch sent you and Reid to the forensic lab to examine the body.

“No hesitation marks.” You said pointing to the terrible wounds.

Spencer nodded. “Cuts are methodical and almost procedural.”

The forensic doctor looked at both of you. “The person who did this definitely had medical training, there’s no other way he could have done this.”

“He?” You glaze up to the doctor.

“No defensive wounds and took out pretty big men.” You frowned. “Although all the toxicology tests showed signs of alcohol.” 

“Any relatives came to claim the body?” Spencer asked.

The doctor nodded. “His wife came with his former colleague.” Both of you looked at him with a confused expression. “He was a retired officer.”

“The lead detective didn’t say anything about that.”

“I’m not surprised, he wasn’t popular at all, he had a reputation for being a dirty cop.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” You said getting your phone out.

But suddenly Spencer’s phone began to ring and he immediately answered. “Where? Okay, we’ll be there.”  He looked at you as he got off the phone. “Another body was found, call her on the way there.” 

—

“Same MO.” Morgan informed. “Some people saw him leave the bar down the street.” 

“So, he was drunk just like the other victim.” You said while eyeing the Weller. “Do we know his profession?”

“Does it matter?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

You step aside standing closer to him and shrugging your shoulders. “Humor me, detective.”

Detective Weller side-eyed you but nodded. “He was a well-known lawyer.”

“I see.” You crossed your arms while raising an eyebrow. “You forgot to mention that the fourth victim was a cop who used to work at your police station.”

“I don’t think it is relevant to the case.” Weller huffed.

“Well, we don’t know that yet.” You insisted. “Do we?”

The BAU men were looking at your disagreement with confusion, and suddenly a strong back wearing a gray and elegant suit got in between, blocking your vision. It took only a few seconds to recognize that it belonged to Hotchner.

“We would like to have access to all of the information available, it’s vital to be able to get the unsub’s profile.“ You heard Aaron talking to the detective.

“Sure, Agent Hotchner.” After Weller left the crime scene, Hotch turned around to see you.

“You are riding with me.” Hotch left the place hurriedly making you roll your eyes and toss your keys at Spencer.

You manage to keep up with Hotch’s pace and climb up on the SUV, some minutes passed and neither of you talked, but you got tired of the unbearable silence.

“If you’re going to scold me, just do it now.”

“I’m not.”

“Hotch he was in the wrong, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.” You shot him a puzzled look.

“Then why get in the middle of my conversation?”

”Because that wasn’t a conversation, he was starting to raise his voice.”

“I can take it, Hotchner.”

“I know you can, doesn’t mean I want you to.” You felt how your facial expression softened at his comment. “Listen, some of these detectives think we are here to make them look bad, they feel threatened.”

You rolled your eyes. “How are their insecurities my fault?”

Hotch chuckled a bit. “They are not, just go easy on them so we can keep the case.”

—

You, Hotch, and Spencer stayed at the precinct to read all the new information about the victims while Rossi and Morgan left to talk with the new possible witnesses. Currently, you are on your third cup of coffee and your fifth case file.

“I can’t believe we were missing all this information.” You hissed.

“Simmer down.” Hotch murmured.

You looked at the evidence board leaning against the table, focusing on the victim's photos, and frowning when looking closer.

“Oh.”

“You found something new?” Spencer asked.

“Hmm, have you seen that all the victims have tattoos?” Both men got closer to look at the photos. 

“Well actually, in some religions tattoos are forbidden because they think of the body as a temple.” Spencer babbled and immediately stood up from his chair. “Some other religions even think that if you get a tattoo, you’re not allowed in heaven.”

“Really?” A look of confusion crossed your face.

Spencer quickly nodded while pointing up with his finger. “You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you: I am the Lord. Leviticus 19:28.” He added.

“So, we think this is a religious matter?” You asked.

“It could be a coincidence. Let’s ask Garcia if she can find something about it.” Spencer took his phone and left the room, leaving you and Hotch alone, looking at the board side to side.

“Well, that’s concerning. You know, some tattoos are meant to protect you.”

Hotch turned his head towards you. “What do you mean?”

“There’s this kind of tattoos that are protection symbols, usually hunters get them.”

“You have one?” Hotch’s upright posture was visibly shaken.

“I'm no hunter.” You said before walking back to the table, Hotch following you. “But yes, I do have one.”

“I’ve never seen a tattoo on you.” Hotch frowns

“That´s because it’s not in a visible spot.” You giggled while turning your back on Hotch to take out another stack of files.

Hotch’s eyes were found unconsciously roaming over your body. He had seen you in the summer, in short skirts and tiny tops, or with risky cleavages, hell he even had seen you in your pajamas when you shared a hotel room once or twice, but he never noticed any tattoos. That can only mean one last place. 

Hotch knew you were busy getting the files so his eyes ended up going down your back to your ass, He was positive your tattoo was on your hip or ass. 

You could feel Hotch’s eyes going down and up your body, You even turned your back on him longer than needed, so he could linger his sight on you even longer. Anyone could’ve said it was just Hotch’s curiosity but you saw that tiny shade of lust, sparkle in his eyes for a brief moment when you mentioned you having a tattoo.

You turned your body in a slow move and caught him still hypnotized by your body. “Looking for something Hotch?”

“Hips or ass, agent?” He asked with a straight face but his voice showed a hint of playfulness. He was teasing you.

The question made you smirk. “You’re not gonna hear it from me, you’re going to need to find out in another way, Sir.”

But before he could open his mouth to speak, Spencer came back to the room with bad news.

“Another body appeared, no tattoo.”

–

“Body number five, we can barely keep up with this guy.” you heard in the distance.

“Do we know who he is?” Hotch asked.

“Since it matters so much, His friend says he is a salesman.” Weller said, sending a nasty look at you. “No connection.”

“Detective Weller, I would appreciate it if your answer were directed at me. When I ask a question.” Hotch replied.

Weller huffed with irritation and you thought you heard him grumble something, but you’re not sure if he was agreeing with Hotch or cursing you under his breath. “We have five bodies, Agent Hotchner, and no correlation.”

“Okay, all victims were partying late at night with their friends and killed in the alley with no one noticing, how did the unsub manage to get them alone?” Hotch looked at his team, they were all lost in thoughts.

“A woman.” Detective Weller's mocking laughter echoed in the room.

“Let her finish.” It only took the look on Hotch’s eyes to harden, to force Weller to shut up.

“What is the only temptation for a straight man that’s going to lure him away from his friends and make him leave the bar?” Your expecting eyes were moving around glancing at your team’s faces.

“A woman.” Rossi repeated while nodding his head.

Hotch turned on his heels and looked at the detective. “Gather your men, we are ready to give a profile.” 

—

“Ready?” Hotch whispered in your ear, making the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand at the sound of his voice.

“What?” You whispered back feeling numb by his closeness.

“Ready to give the profile?” 

“Hotch, I’ve never gi-.” Your voice trails off. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”

“It is.” He assured you pushing you to the side and walking to the room full of cops.

Lost in your thoughts you barely felt two hands holding your arms from behind, giving you a light squeeze. “You got this, Kid.” Rossi left your side and followed Hotch in the other precinct's room.

You sighed and took a deep breath. This was your first time profiling a human case, not covering up supernatural events or rehearsing made-up stories. This felt different, good different.

You walked confidently and stood in the middle of the room surrounded by your team.

“We are looking for a woman between 30 and 35, she’s friendly, she’ll lure with charm but kill with rage.” You began your speech, feeling every pair of eyes looking at you with attention. “We believe she kills men to reclaim her power.” 

“She probably suffers from low self-esteem but covers it well.” You heard Morgan's voice.

“We believe this woman went through a catastrophic event, that’s when the killing started.” Rossi pointed.

“She has medical training, you should consider EMTs, doctors, or veterinarians.” 

“It’s more likely we are dealing with the Aileen Wournos archetype, motivated by paranoia and fear, luring men with sex.” Spencer added.

“She certainly knows the terrain, so be careful out there.” Hotch remarked.

A couple of hours later after the profile, Detective Weller came in a hurry with a piece of paper in an evidence bag.

“Forensics found a letter on the victim's body.” He said handing it over to Hotch. “She’s mocking us.”

“Dear boss, he wanted it. With that sharp tongue and vulgar hand. I thought you’d like to know that another will soon get what he deserves.

Yours truly.”  

“That 's weird.” All eyes searched Spencer’s voice. “Typically offenders write letters to be heard. Jack the Ripper bragged about not being caught yet this Unsub isn’t using correspondence to flaunt her latest kill. Only to explain why she did it.” He explained while moving his hands around.

“It’s possible that she considers herself a vigilante. That the man she’s killing deserves to die.” Rossi blurted.

“Then, every kill she’s acting out is a fantasy of revenge or a real revenge?” Everyone in the room returned to their thoughts wondering at Morgan’s question.

You shifted in your place with uncertainty. “Maybe she is contacting us not because we are on the case, but because she believes we understand.” With fingers tapping against the wood, you began to unravel the tiny hints in the letter. “The Unsub wrote, He wanted it as she couldn’t help herself. What if she’s mirroring the man who raped her?”

”Where are the files stored from your Sex Crimes Division?” Hotch looked at Weller’s direction.

The detective stepped out of the room momentarily and returned with a medium-sized carton box with a few files that barely stuck out of the box. “Here they are.”

“That 's it?” You let out with a surprised tone of voice.

After several hours of trying to match your profile with any file in the box, you were exhausted. You decided to take a quick break and enter the bathroom, You locked yourself inside one of the bathroom booths and sighed while your hands held your head.

The sound of the door being opened ripped you out of your pessimistic thoughts. Suddenly a hand left a piece of paper report at your feet, leaving you uncertain on what to do. You tried to thank the person but, you were answered with fast footsteps leaving the place.

You took the paper and read in a whispered voice, Disturbance at Jones.

~~

“Care to tell us what happened then, detective?” Hotch asked.

Detective Weller shifted in his seat with discomfort. “How did you know about this incident?”

“It was in the box you gave us, Weller.” Morgan said while leaning against the wall, looking directly at Weller.

“I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you misplaced it, who cares?” You argued. 

He looked at you with disdain. Aaron couldn’t help himself and stepped closer to you showing protection. “This happened when the head detective before me was in charge, I took some of the declarations but that’s it.”

You smirked with satisfaction Knowing you were right all along. “The detective before you as our third victim?” He nodded.

“What happened there, detective?” 

“One of the boys asked her if she wanted to play pool. Witnesses claim she was up for anything. His friend, not far behind.“ All the eyes were on him. “He claims she knew he was there, She said she claimed for help but not a single person claimed that they heard her.”

You shook your head in disbelief. 

He continued, “That’s why it was registered as a disturbance. She wanted to press charges. But the head detective back then told her it was a waste of time.”

“How is this just a disturbance?” Rossi asked, frowning at Weller.

“As far as I was concerned, no such rape ever took place, and the boy was a colleague’s son, he is a good boy.”

Something in your stomach twisted and anger started to build up.

“We are trying to know her name; she could be our Unsub.” Morgan pointed out. Weller sighed when this realization dawned on him, but he slightly shook his head as he was ashamed of not knowing the answer. 

But you were sure shame wasn’t a feeling men like that could understand.

“You don’t remember her name?“ Morgan asked with incredulity.

“It was nine years ago.” 

“What about the name of the good kid that raped her?” You bickered.

~~

“Mr. Tibideaux, we need you to answer a few questions about a disturbance you were involved with.“ Hotch’s voice resonated inside the four walls of the interrogation room.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Disgust appeared in your face, but you hid it by biting your tongue. You didn’t know why Hotch asked you to be there, but you hated every minute of it.

“At a bar called Jones, It was Mardi Gras.” Hotch reminded him.

“You know, then I must’ve been drinking or something. Cause I don’t remember a thing.”

With your feet tapping the floor, you were counting the seconds to be able to leave the room and be away from the so-called good boy.

“We just need to know the name of your accuser.” Hotch demanded. If he was annoyed there was no way to know.

“Look, I told you. I don’t know what you are talking about”

You roughly massaged your right temple, fuming.

”The statute of limitations is up, we just need a name.” He added calmly.

“Someone accuses me of rape, I’m gonna remember her name.” You taunted.

“Well, what can I tell you, Cher? I guess she didn’t make that good of an impression.“

Your eyes narrowed dismissively.

”Unlike yourself right now.” You retorted.

“You know. I’m guessing if someone did do something to that girl that night then she was probably asking for it. Maybe even liked it.”

You controlled the urge to smash his head against the table and abruptly took the file out of Hotch’s hands, you opened it and began to display all the victim's photos in front of him.

“You know Hotch, maybe we are not too late, she murdered these men and I’m guessing it’s only a matter of time before she works her way back to the one she really wants to kill.” You tilted your head to look at him but he was busy looking at the pictures with a horrified look. “Is she making an impression now?

Your words suggested you were talking to Hotch but your sight was set on the other man in the room.

“You don’t want to tell us, fine.” You snickered. “Cause Daddy can’t make this go away, and I have no problem waiting for your dead body to give me a new hint.”  

You leaned closer, you didn’t have to talk anymore, you knew your eyes were saying enough. But you continued.

“In fact, I wouldn’t like anything else, so I’m gonna go ahead and set my alarm for tomorrow morning when I get the call from the police.” You ranted.  “Cause, believe me, I’m going to sleep better knowing there is one less offender out of the streets.”

After hearing the name you needed, you stormed out of the room leaving everyone behind without looking back until you heard a voice calling for you.

“That was out of line, agent.” You abruptly stopped and turned on your heels to look at Weller. 

“The only thing out of line is how pathetic you are at doing your job, Weller.” You turned back at him one more time and kept waking till reaching a quiet corner to make a phone call.

“Work me.” You hear Penelope’s voice on your phone.

“We have a name. Sarah Danlin. I need an address.”

“1141 Sherman Avenue. It looks like she was a med student at Tulane but she dropped out.”

“Let me guess, February nine years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” 

~~

You returned to the hotel room by Hotchner’s request, and you knew he was in the right to send you back, you got carried away by your emotions. 

You were a mess. Closing your room door, you let your emotions overpower you once more. Tears were falling down your face. You weren’t sure what you were feeling. No one ever prepared you for this kind of case, you felt powerless, empty, and lost. And finally, rage possessed your emotions.

You tossed glasses and trails of empty dishes, and your luggage and clothes flew around the room until your energy and strength gave up and tiredness reached you.

You are sure the hotel staff let Hotch know, cause he kept checking with you constantly. He let you know when they arrested her and how she told them she killed every man who helped cover up her abuse.

You heard your door being open and looked at Hotchner with a questioning look when you saw him standing there.

“How did you open my door?” 

He showed you his key. “We are sharing.”

You frowned. “Since when?”

“Since now, there has been an unexpected cut in the budget.” You nodded knowing it was a lie and he probably wanted to check on you. But you said nothing.

“Some things fall by themselves, I think there’s a ghost.” You said when you caught him looking at the mess on the floor.

“I think you can manage that.” 

He left his duffel bag on the floor and sat next to you on the bed. 

“Are you okay?” He asked.

That simple question was enough to break your strong façade. It was a question you normally have no problem answering with a lie, and you didn’t know if it was the situation or just because Hotch was the one asking. But it brought you down to tears. 

He took you in his arms and hugged you tight.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It 's okay.” He softly mumbled on your head reassuring you. “You said what you needed to say.”

You quickly shook your head.

“I meant it.” You sniffled. “I was willing to wait.”

“I know.” He said while caressing your back with soothing movements. 

“So, normally you have to deal with these detectives making your job impossible?”

“Yeah, all the time.” He chuckled. 

“God, it’s exhausting.” You laugh a little 

“You don’t?”

“No, they basically beg me to take the case out of their hands.” 

Hotch sighed. “You need to learn new methods for the interrogation.” He searched for your eyes. “I mean, only if you want to keep coming to these cases with us, you want to?”

“Yeah.” You smiled at him.

“You are a profiler now, welcome to the team.”

~~

Back in Quantico, you were getting ready to leave your office when you got a call from an unknown number. You hesitated but finally answered after letting it ring for a couple of seconds.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean?” You frowned looking back at the number.

“We need a little bit of help.” Reality sank on you.

“Tell me you are not calling from where I think you are calling.” 

“Agent Henriksen got to us.”

“Damn it, Dean, How the heck did he manage to do that?”

“Bella Talbot.”

“That bitch again?” You sighed. “Where are you?”

“Colorado.”

“I’m on my way.”

[10daysto1k]

PROMPT BINGO

The 10 Days To 1K prompt bingo card is an opportunity to get inspiration for your short fics. You can pick any prompt for any submission -- as long as you're still making the day's word count.

When posting to the AO3 collection, find your prompt in this list and click "Claim". (Multiple people can claim the same prompt!)

Fill in your bingo card as you go, and make sure to share it on your socials using the tag #10DaysTo1K.

See below for a plain text list of prompts!

moonlight secrets sweat journey dream tattoo scar obsession flame regret escape citrus voicemail in vino veritas prank clones roommates murder music fake fate neighbors departure bite

[zombieluvrgrl]

⁀જ⁀➴ who i write for

+ bounderies! ᢉ𐭩

DISCLAIMER! i ask that minors do not interact with my blog because i also write nsfw. minors and ageless blogs DNI !

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ #METALOCALYPSE - all band members + charles

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ #COD - TF141

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ #AOT - too many characters to list, just ask!

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ #SALLYFACE (au/post college) - the main four + neil, maple and travis

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ #BLUEEYESAMURAI - mizu, taigen, akemi & ringo

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

& more to be added !

i mostly write in headcanons and scenario format but im hoping to write full fics and oneshots so please send a request if you have one!

╭────── · · ୨୧ · ·──────╮

what i WILL write

✦ fluff/smut/angst, all that good stuff!!

✦ topics/content included in canon (for example drugs/alcohol in my metalocalypse content)

✦ T4T, male reader, trans reader (i try to keep my writing gender neutral unless specified otherwise)

✦ AUs such as modern/gender bent/ABO/hybrid etc

✦ topics such as mental health/illness, substance use, trauma and injury and abuse

✦ soft/hard dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, impact play, pegging, somno (amongst others)

what i WONT write

✦ some hard/extreme kinks (cnc / omo etc) or rlly any kinks i dont want to write about ! respectfully i will turn down any request i dont feel comfortable writing <3

✦ explicit descriptions of SA/rape and self harm

✦ incest / adult x minor

̗̀➛ im still pretty new to writing again and i currently no set schedule for posting so if you have a request or question please feel free to ask!

╰────── · · ୨୧ · ·──────╯