#“Reminder to self: you are being watched.

[sttoru]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you regret everything when you wake up after an eventful night with your asshole of a roommate, toji fushiguro. even though you hate yourself for giving in to his charms, a part of you secretly craves his company.

tags. roommate!toji x female reader. suggestive, fluff, angst. age gap (reader twenties, toji early thirties). toji is kinda an asshole. kinda toxic relationship. mention of reader having daddy issues. self indulgent lol. reader gets called ‘doll, sweetheart \ naive’ -> part one: here

everything aches. your entire body is on fire the moment you wake up. you tiredly rub your eyes, regaining consciousness after being in deep sleep. glimpses of a room that isn’t yours, your nude body under the sheets and the uncomfortable stinging sensation in your hips help you connect the dots.

“oh, fuck,” you cuss quietly. memories of the intimate night with your roommate—the one you swore you hated and only tolerated—replay in your head.

you can’t believe it. you gave in so easily to toji’s charms, that womanising bastard. you hit yourself on the head a couple times with your hands. you just know that cocky man will never let this go. he can use this against you, blackmail you if needed.

while cussing yourself out some more, a faint breeze entering the room makes you shiver. you look to the side and finally notice the figure standing outside on the balcony.

toji exhales a stream of smoke from his lips, his eyes fixed on the horizon. the early morning sun casts a warm glow on the city below. he senses your awaking presence and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

the older man can feel your gaze on him, but he remains fixated on the scenery. taking a deep drag from the cigarette, he exhales the smoke into the crisp morning air once more. he knows you’re watching him, yet he makes no move to acknowledge you. instead, he lets the silence linger for a while, enjoying the view and the nicotine buzz before speaking up.

“morning, doll,” toji says, not bothering to turn around to face you. he continues to smoke without a care in the world, his bare muscular back facing you. the fact that he’s acting like nothing happened the day before is infuriating to you.

he does this often after all. sleeping around with women who can earn him some extra money, leaving when he sees no use in them anymore. now he’s doing the same with you—using a naive and vulnerable college girl like you for a room to stay in, toying with your feelings and managing to lure you to have sex with him. it’s all part of his plan, no?

you sigh, though realise that there’s no changing the past. what happened has happened.

you throw your legs over the edge of the bed. you stare down at your bare limbs for a second before grabbing the sheets on the bed. you wrap the cloth around your nude body, seeking a resemblance of warmth. something to keep you grounded so you won’t lose your mind.

your feet pad silently on the wooden flooring as you walk over to the balcony. the cold air hits your face which instantly makes you shiver. your nose scrunches up a bit and your brows furrow, more so after you’re hit with the strong scent of tobacco.

“a lil' grumpy, ain’t ya?” toji comments once he finally turns his head to the side. his eyes rake over your body, lingering on the flesh of your thighs peeking out beneath the make-shift dress. he lets out a low and appreciative whistle at the provocative sight.

it reminds him of what went down the night before. how you were trembling, begging and drooling underneath him as he ruined your insides. the memory is forever burned into his brain.

you can only click your tongue in response, coming to stand still next to him at the railing. you lean against it, arms draped over the edge. a silence hangs in the air between you two before you break it with a sigh. “you're an asshole,” you grumble while rubbing your eyes.

you remember how you’ve promised not to press on about the rent problem. how toji had tricked you into saying specific things in the heat of the moment. he’ll use it against you, you guess. if you bring it up now, he'll probably say that ‘that wasn't what you said yesterday when i was balls dee—’

you cover your face with your hand, your stomach doing that thing as you stop that thought. you hate yourself for feeling so giddy as you recall what happened between you two.

“heh, never claimed i was a good guy,” toji hums, voice low and hoarse. he puffs another cloud of smoke the other way. at least he’s respectful enough not to blow it in your face.

neither of you utter a word after that.

you look down at the city below. everyone is going on about their day, the people none the wiser of what is occuring at your little apartment. the conflicting feelings are fighting a losing battle in your head. as much as you dislike the various things toji does, you feel yourself strangely attached to him. even more so after you shared an intimate night together.

but then again, you know yourself, sometimes you make bad decisions in life. like the exes you chose to have in the past—all of whom were quite toxic in a way. some were way too old for a university student like you.

yet you stayed. you stayed because you needed the validation. the affection of an older man. perhaps that would fill up the gap left in your heart, formed by the absence of a father figure. it’s something you can't escape. which lands you in situations like these.

it would explain why you’re attracted to the man standing next to you. he’s an asshole of a roommate that frustrates you—not paying his half of the rent in time, coming home late which wakes you up from your much needed sleep, leaving his things scattered around the apartment, sometimes bringing women home to drain the money from them.

though, toji also got aspects about him that you appreciate in silence. like when he teases you when you're not feeling well, which helps you take your mind off whatever is bothering you and eventually leads to you venting to him. he actually listens and gives you reasonable advice.

well, when it’s people bothering you, he always urges you to tell them their names so he can 'handle it' for you. you decline the offer, but having someone who would protect you when it comes it, is quite reassuring.

or when you’re outside together and a man creeps you out, toji is the first one to make the guy flee by just his intimidating presence that looms over you like a watch dog.

one thing you also appreciate is when your roommate almost always comes home with something for you. he doesn’t give it to you personally, but he leaves it in places you can find. it ranges from food to souvenirs and pieces of decor you like.

you didn’t realise you had been faintly smiling this entire time. you snap out of your endless thoughts about the older man besides you. only then do you notice how close you are to toji. how close your bodies had suddenly got.

you must have subconsciously scooted closer to him while lost in your train of thoughts. your body seeks his warmth, his comforting presence, even if your consciousness tries to refuse it.

your arm is pressed against toji’s and you’re close to enough to smell him. his natural body scent mixed with his cologne and the lingering tobacco. you don’t flinch away when you’re aware of the proximity. instead, you allow yourself to enjoy the moment.

you lean your head against his bicep, closing your eyes. toji doesn’t move away either and you take that as a sign that it’s fine; that it’s okay to be vulnerable. he won’t take advantage of that, right?

in the meanwhile, the dark-haired man is feelings things he swore he would never feel for anyone ever again. that damn warmth in his chest as he looks down at you, an unfamiliar yet also nostalgic look in his eyes.

toji can guess why you’re still tolerating him, even when he does things others would have kicked him out for long time ago. he knows of your past—you’ve opened up about that to him when you were overly emotional. your exes, your absent dad, the attachment issues you’re struggling with. it’s also visible in your behavior.

the older man sighs. as much as he wants to be there for you, attachment is a foreign aspect for him. in his mind, showing any affection will cause damage on the long run for both him and you.

“i’m a bad guy, sweetheart,” toji starts before stubbing out the cigarette and throwing it on an ash tray near the small table on the side. despite his words, his voice is slightly softer than usual. “y’ really don't wanna get all chummy with a man like me.”

‘for your own sake,’ he wants to add, but refrains from it. he doesn’t want the conversation to turn too deep, too sentimental. he can’t really deal with that stuff.

you chuckle dryly at his last comment. on one hand, it’s the truth. you don’t even know what the man does for work, if he even works, why he comes home late at night, why he sometimes leaves for a few days only to return sweaty and tired. toji’s a total mystery.

but on the other hand, you’re attracted to the moments you spend together. the aspects of his life and personality that he allows you to see. the specks of the goodness inside of him that only you get to witness in the space of your shared apartment.

“don't care,” you eventually form a reply. your eyes dart up to look at toji, subtly grinning at him as you half attempt to make a joke, “am not exactly a ‘good girl’ either.”

toji’s head falls back as he barks out a harsh laugh. ‘you? not a good girl?’ he thinks. you’re the example of the nicest and also most naive woman he’s ever met.

the tension between you two fades away after that. before he can stop himself, the older man finds himself reaching out to wrap an arm around your shoulders. he brings you closer to him, his warm palm resting firmly on your upper back.

you freeze for a second, unsure where the sudden gesture came from, but you don’t complain. you laugh softly with him and rest your head against his bare chest. your heart is beating fast and you swear that his is doing the same, though not as noticeable.

“keheh. nah, y’re not ‘bad’,” toji shakes his head. his veiny hand comes up to ruffle your hair in a surprisingly affectionate yet awkward pat. he looks down at the top of your head and finds himself letting his guard down. his voice is a low rumble, “compared to me y’re a damn saint, believe me.”

you’re caught off guard by the headpat, again. your heart jumps to your throat at the touch and you bet he doesn’t even realise the effect it has on your body. or maybe he does.

a smile tugs at your lips. you’re fine with this—your earlier irritation completely forgotten. you don’t care about the money when he can repay you with irreplaceable moments like these. instants where you feel almost . . . loved.

toji can’t deny the surge of emotions bubbling up in his chest at the sight of your content self. he covers it up with a cough, but he’s still thinking about the possibility. the possibility of him falling in love again.

he cannot.

his rational mind tells him no. that with the dangerous life he’s leading behind your back, he’ll only harm you if you’re involved in it. he can’t risk endangering a young woman like you who’s got her whole life ahead of her.

but it feels good, to feel alive again after all this time of being alone.

“alright, let’s quit all this cheesy stuff,” toji rolls his eyes before flicking your forehead. you whine in response and rub the stinging skin, giving him a weak shove in response.

the older man grins as the grumpiness returns to your face. cute, he thinks to himself, wanting to elicit a familiar reaction from you. he pokes your sides a few times until you’re squirming and squealing.

“hey! quit that!” you huff, swatting his hands away the best you can as you run back inside the apartment—a desperate attempt to escape. you call out to him once you’re back in his bedroom, “you’re still an asshole!”

toji watches you go and exhales through his nose. your final comment causes the scarred side of his lip to curl up into a smirk. he knows you can’t be mad at him for long and he can’t wait to tease you again when he catches up to you.

he lazily walks back inside after a bit, closing and locking the balcony door. the same thought crosses his mind again when toji stares at you as you slip out of his room; maybe it’s worth giving love a chance again. just maybe.

toji hopes that things end up well. that life will not use you - the only person he’s slowly letting himself be vulnerable with - to teach him another lesson.

little did he know that mercy does not exist in the lives of people like him.

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ conflict ] | sylus

— summary: whatever they have is cosmic. which is why you quietly bow out, thinking you never stood a chance. — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, obligatory club scene, unrequited feelings, jealousy, sisterly love, self-loathing, suggestive, stream of conciousness, not proofread, mdni — notes: the next part for this. thank you for reading! — now playing: bad girls like you - tobii

—of course, by unwinding, you assumed Ms. Hunter meant the celebratory clink of whiskey glasses together, with something murky and vicious sloshing around inside. Something to take the edge off, to dull your senses, and to assuage the ache in your muscles where the painkillers couldn’t.

A club was the last place you expected to be after blowing an arms dealer and his men halfway to hell. 

Then again, you’re not complaining, swathed in the subdued glow of red strobe lights and fog. You’re in your element, surrounded by sweat-slicked bodies and people just trying to feel. 

The club reminds you of Lux, minus the cheap upholstery and subpar drinks. You’re at least 1,000 miles from Linkon, settled on some floating oasis in the middle of glistening aqua waters. You’ve barely had time to enjoy yourself, your trio hitting the ground running as soon as Sylus’ jet touched earth. You’ll be leaving in the morning, swept back into the lonely, glacial abyss of the N109.

So you dance like tomorrow isn’t promised. Like you’re performing onstage, garnering the lust and envy of those around you. You always do, the art of seduction practically ingrained in your DNA after using it to your advantage for so long. Years of luring men to their demise inhabit every sway of your hips, every roll of your body, every sultry curl of your lips.

Besides, being here is also a nice little distraction from the cacophony of your mind, replaced by good music thudding beneath your feet, and your cheeks aching with a tipsy smile. You grab the Hunter’s hips. Bring her closer until your chests collide, and she’s wide-eyed with parted lips, unsure of what to do with her hands. 

“Relax,” you soothe, your voice slurry as you encourage her to sway. To loosen up. She’s stiff at first but catches your drift, letting you control her with a wonky grin as her wrists cross behind your neck. That’s more like it. 

You fed her a few drinks to ease her nerves—it was her idea to come here. And after the three of you cleaned up and rested at the hotel, she suggested it over dinner. You and Sylus traded looks, your faces bearing different degrees of amusement. Ms. Hunter babe isn’t much of a social butterfly, but the pair of you relented, figuring you could use the diversion.

You’re playing up her allure. Whispering praise against her bangs, encouraging her to release her inner sexy. 

He’s been watching her from the VIP section since you dragged her to the dance floor. Scarlet eyes peeling through the smog, tuned to her every move. You wish it were you he eyed like that, but you shove those green-eyed thoughts onto the backburner, dancing, grinding, laughing. Losing yourself to the music. You’re on a mission to get her boned tonight. Living vicariously through her, knowing that it’ll never be you he beds. At least one of you can end the night on a good note. 

The song slides into something sultry. Ms. Hunter slips out of your grip, a giggling mess, stumbling towards the red velour couch where Sylus sits. You watch her plop down beside him, the cocktails slackening her grace. You can’t make out what they’re saying when he angles closer to hand her a drink. But he’s wearing that customary tilt to his lips, sweeping some hair behind her ear, where he eases in to murmur something against the shell of it. Whatever he’s on about, it makes her laugh, and she playfully smacks the devastating stretch of skin peaking through the slit of his silky button-down. 

Your lips twitch, smile falters. Everything around you morphs into a Gaussian blur, the music muddled as what’s left of your senses home into the scene. You swallow against the swell of feelings burbling up when Sylus pulls her closer, a long arm slung around soft shoulders. They exchange a look before the Hunter glances up, shaking you from your trance. She raises her glass to you in a quiet toast. As if to convey, I’m alright in case you were wondering. Of course, she is. Why wouldn’t she be when he handles her like glass, the fondness in his eyes as palpable as the bitterness scorching your throat?

Sylus’ gaze tracks to yours. You offer a quiet smirk with a tilted brow, tamping down your envy. Wearing that playful front once more, turning back towards the dance floor.

At least your plan is working, you muse, swallowed up by the crowd of writhing limbs and lust. She’s definitely going to get some tonight if the idle stir of his eyes whilst he painted a triangle between her lashes and lips is any gauge. You did your job. Well at that.

So why do you feel so shitty?

A virile arm snakes about your waist, siphoning your breath as it drags you against a hardened body. You tuck your inhibitions away as the stranger who grabbed you grins, dark hair sweeping over manicured brows. You let him guide you into a slow wind, grateful for the save.

And you’re utterly oblivious to red eyes scrutinizing the stranger’s hand as it splays against the space between your shoulder blades.

—

It’s quiet on the executive floor of the hotel. Then again, it’s a quarter to 2 AM, and you’re sure everyone occupying these rooms is sound asleep. So, you shush your Hunter friend for the umpteenth time, stumbling beside her as she giggles drunkenly into your ear. 

You can’t help the crack of a smile, her arm slung about your shoulder as you guide her towards her room, and she throws her head back, singing something that makes her voice crack and you wince. 

“Quiet,” you chide, your intermingled voices bouncing off the walls. You must be quite the sight. Two barefoot beauties stumbling down the hall, trying to make sense of the world. 

The embossed letters of her room pan into view. She laughs as you cautiously frisk her for the keycard after propping her against the door. She’s a little worse for wear. You feel bad, having overdone it with the cocktails. Not your fault you could hold your liquor while she couldn’t. So when Sylus left you to tend to “business,” as he so cryptically said, it was up to you to ensure Ms. Hunter made it back to her room without a hair out of place. 

So much for her getting laid tonight. 

Finally, you procure the card. You swipe it, taking the Hunter by the waist before she barrels in. Instinctively, her arms snake around your neck, and she stumbles into you, nearly knocking you off kilter. She’s all sloppy-grinned, the alcohol on her breath pushed into your nostrils. She blinks sluggishly at you, and you bite back a laugh. Never would you have imagined seeing Ms. Hunter, all prim and pretty and carefully constructed, looking like this. 

“You’re pretty, you know that?” she breathes, tapping your nose. You scoff, maneuvering yourself to herd her into her room. She carries on spewing nonsense as the pair of you toddle beneath the dim lighting of the room’s entryway. The king-sized bed slides into focus. You let her fall onto the mattress, steadying her before she can slide off. Her hair falls onto her face, a new onslaught of laughter spewing from her lips.

You kneel to grab her ankles, almost losing your footing yourself. You might not be as trashed as she is, but you’re still a little loose-limbed. A little tipsy, teetering on that slurry edge, having tamped down your inebriation to play big sister. 

“You’re gorgeous,” she continues when you stand, positioning her legs on the bed as comfortably as you can. 

You tuck her beneath the heavy blanket, ignoring her dribble. Scoop dark tresses away from her face, beholding red-speckled cheeks and swollen lips. It’s no wonder Sylus fell for her. She’s a marvel, girl next door pretty, where you’re a sex symbol, molded to be used and envied rather than exalted. 

Ms. Hunter teeters in and out of sobriety, sleep beckoning to her with its ghostly croon. Before you depart, she speaks to you again, her voice abrasive with exhaustion.

“The prettiest girl around. No one could keep their eyes off you, not even Sylus. He was practically drooling. You see that?”

You stiffen, your hand closed around the glacial brass of the door handle. You cock your head towards your shoulder, something warm flushing over your skin. She talks a lot for someone under the influence. But it’s if she’s read the inner turmoil coloring your mind, not like you do the best of jobs masking your feelings.

It wasn’t me he was drooling over, you want to say. It never would be. He’s too swept up in her. Their history, their past. You’re merely an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. Something disposable. Something pretty to further his agenda. Even if he was looking, it was probably to ensure you weren’t getting into trouble. 

He’d have a hell of a time finding someone on short notice to fill your shoes. His pretty little femme fatale. It just so happens you’re unconsciously grooming your replacement, treating her more like an ally than a rival.

You wait until her breaths even out. Until she’s sunken below the depths of unconsciousness before you slip out of her room, your chest heavy as if weighed down by an anvil and a bitter twist to your lips.

Before you can make your grand escape to your room to nurse your impending hangover, a familiar voice curls around the vowels of your name. Of course, he would have a room across from hers, and it is with bitter realization you look up at him from the floor, schooling your expression into one of indifference. 

Sylus leans against the doorframe, so very massive in comparison to it. You try to ignore what the playful cant to his lips does to you. How his pretty, scarlet-spun eyes dance when he studies you. Ignore how the tendons in his neck flex when he swallows, how his Adam’s apple bobs. The slither of tanned skin stretched over his pectorals calls to you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the need to touch. You stifle the feeling, barring your gaze from slinking lower. He’s devastating, and you don’t trust yourself not to make a move you’ll later regret right now.

“How is she?” he asks, the husky grit of his voice furling in your chest. Your heart sinks. Of course, he wouldn’t ask about you. You’re a big girl, more than capable of fending for yourself. To inquire about your status would be an insult according to him. You square your shoulders, sighing with that infuriatingly artificial smile to your lips.

“Hammered, but she’ll survive. She’s sleeping it off now.”

He snorts, shifting his weight between his feet. “Of course. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go out after the day we had.”

You nod, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—your pulse thrumming in your ears. Your throat constricting. You toy with your fingers, taking this time to dismiss yourself before you spout out some nonsense.

“Gonna go get some sleep myself. See you in the morning.”

“Need some help getting back to your room?”

You peer at him from your shoulder, eyes slightly widened, mouth open, working around words that refuse to come. Something indiscernible lurks in his gaze. It’s as if he’s searching. Looking for something, though you’re sure you’re mistaken. 

“I’m alright,” you say with a sticky laugh, starting down the hall towards your room. All the while, your nerves scream through your inebriation, and you squint when you reach the door around the corner, inwardly admonishing yourself for turning him down. 

A delusional part of you believes there was more to his offer than what was presented at surface level. But you were too stuck in your head to read between the lines. After all, Sylus would never settle for someone like you. Not when you’re mere costume jewelry in comparison to gold. 

You throw yourself against the bed once you’re inside your room. Peer up at the ceiling, studying its texture until your vision slides into a vignette around the corners, and then you drift into the violet embrace of sleep, deciding to deal with this new swirl of feelings later.

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey!! What's up?

So, I think this chapter will break the expectations of some of you... But that's what I'm here, right? To surpriseeee you!

Taste it <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Summary: For the first time, the witch feels helpless around you and you notice it.

Read here: Prologue | Envy

MULTIVERSAL ANCHOR

The sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the room in a golden glow. Wanda slowly woke, her eyes opening with some difficulty. Her mind was still foggy from the night before—the memories of the battle, the victory, the moment when she claimed that place for herself.

And then, she felt it.

You were by her side.

Her arm rested lazily on her protruding belly, her fingers intertwined with yours, as if the gesture were natural. The warmth of your body radiated towards her, while the comfortable weight of your leg lay on her thighs.

Wanda held her breath for a moment, completely still. Is this what she feels every day?

She shifted her gaze to you, watching the softness of your sleeping expression. Your lips were slightly parted, your hair messily framing your face. There was something so... vulnerable about you in this state, and it stirred something within Wanda that she wasn’t ready to admit.

Her gaze instinctively shifted to your belly, pressed against hers. The rounded volume was impossible to ignore. The idea that you were carrying her daughter—your daughter—stirred something within her.

But that’s not why I’m here, she reminded herself, closing her eyes and trying to push the thoughts away. I’m here for the boys. For my children. Not for her. Never for her.

Mornings with her Wanda usually involved small routines you’d built together. She used to kiss your belly first, whispering something to the baby before getting up. Then, she’d always grab an extra pillow to support her back while you talked about what you’d do that day.

But today, there was none of that.

You looked at her, confused, as she sat beside you, almost as though she didn’t know what to do.

“You’re unusually quiet today,” you remarked, trying to smile.

Wanda forced a smile in return. “Just... didn’t sleep well,” she lied.

You didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t push further. Instead, you reached out to touch her hand. The gesture was automatic, and Wanda tensed as she felt your fingers brush against hers.

“You seem so distant,” you said softly, your eyes filled with concern.

Wanda swallowed, feeling exposed. You were so... attentive. The other Wanda knew exactly how to respond to this kind of concern. She didn’t.

“I’m fine,” she said, slowly pulling her hand away. “I just need a moment.”

At breakfast, Wanda seemed to return to her normal self, playing with the boys and smiling. This made you grin widely. She always had a way with being a mom. When she was pregnant with the boys, you saw that same sparkle in her eyes. Nothing had changed.

You watched her in silence, the smile on your face growing as she laughed at Tommy and Billy’s antics. There was something magical in seeing her like that—so connected to the boys, so at ease with the morning chaos.

“And then I said: ‘If you run faster, you’ll turn into a rocket!’” Tommy exclaimed, flailing his arms excitedly.

“Oh, really?” Wanda responded, laughing. “And who had to run after the ‘rocket’ to bring him back home?”

“Billy!” Tommy pointed, laughing, while the older brother feigned indignation but soon smiled, proud.

It was in these small interactions that you saw the Wanda you loved. The same gleam in her eyes when she was pregnant with the boys still there, intact, as if nothing had changed since then. But something inside you sensed a difference, a lightness that seemed forced.

And then, Wanda looked at you.

Her smile faltered, as if she had been caught. The light in her eyes disappeared, replaced by something you couldn’t decipher. It was as if, for a moment, she had been consumed by an emotion that shouldn’t have been there.

“Wanda?” you asked, concerned.

She blinked quickly, her face softening as the smile returned to her lips—forced, hurried. “I’m fine,” she replied, turning her gaze back to the boys.

You wanted to believe it, but the discomfort inside you grew. Something was wrong, even if you couldn’t pinpoint what.

After breakfast, Wanda went upstairs to the room, leaving you with the boys. She claimed she needed to sort some things out, but the truth was, she needed space. In the room, the silence was suffocating as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

“Why is this happening to me?” she murmured, feeling the frustration bubble in her voice.

The room seemed too small for Wanda, every inch filled with thoughts she couldn’t silence. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her elbows resting on her knees, she stared at the floor, her hands trembling slightly with the energy she wanted to release, but didn’t know how to control.

Since arriving in this universe, Wanda had thought it would be simple. Replace her other version, win back the boys, and... and you.

But you were different.

She tried to manipulate your emotions, shape your thoughts, even steal her other self’s memories to understand how it was possible for you to love her so deeply. But nothing worked. It was as if you were protected by an invisible force, a barrier she couldn’t cross, no matter how powerful she was.

And worst of all? This resistance didn’t make Wanda give up. It made her want more.

When Wanda closed her eyes, it was her image that appeared. The way you looked at her during breakfast, concerned, but still full of trust and love. The soft smile on your lips as you folded clothes for Seline, as if the world had no weight on your shoulders.

It was so frustrating, so hypnotizing...

“Why you?” Wanda murmured again, her voice low and bitter.

She raised her hand, letting the red energy pulse once more. She made a subtle gesture, trying to recreate the spell she used to manipulate memories and emotions. The magic’s glow was strong, lighting up the room, but when she thought of you—the curve of your belly, the touch of your fingers at breakfast, the lightness of your laughter—the energy wavered again.

And vanished.

Wanda cursed, the frustration bubbling inside her. What made you different? What made your presence feel untouchable, but at the same time, so... alluring?

She stood abruptly, walking toward the mirror. The reflection staring back at her seemed darker than ever. Her eyes were filled with shadows, and, no matter how much she tried to hide it, Wanda knew she was falling apart inside.

You loved her, but not her.

You loved the version of herself that seemed lighter, more human. A Wanda who didn’t carry the weight of the Darkhold in her fingers and her heart, who hadn’t been consumed by pain and chaos.

The image of your smile when you saw her with the boys earlier returned to her mind. You looked so... happy. As if you were seeing someone who completed your life perfectly.

“She shouldn’t have you,” Wanda whispered to the reflection. “I should be the woman she loves. I should be the boys’ mother. The wife. Everything.”

But the truth was like a cold blade against her throat. She wasn’t what you needed.

The night descended upon the house like a veil, tinting the sky with deep blues and grays. The windows glowed with soft light from within, exuding a warm, welcoming heat that seemed unreachable from the garden. Wanda was there, shrouded in the dimness, her silhouette almost indistinguishable as she watched you from the outside.

In the kitchen, bathed in a serene yellow light, you moved between pots and dishes, simple, routine gestures that, somehow, magnetized her gaze. Every action you took seemed to hold a depth she couldn’t unravel, something that held her attention more than she was willing to admit.

Questions hammered in her mind. What was it about you that made the other Wanda desire you so much? What made you irresistible? Why did something so ordinary seem so extraordinary? She needed to understand what made you shine like that, even in the most mundane tasks.

Wanda clenched her fists, feeling the red energy pulse, an involuntary response to the storm growing within her. It was a reminder that she should maintain control, but, in that moment, she felt vulnerable, at the mercy of something she couldn’t name.

She watched you as you stirred the pot, the steam rising in spirals that momentarily obscured your face. Then, you laughed, casually brushing the steam away with a motion. That laugh was like a musical note reverberating inside her, echoing in spaces she didn’t even know existed.

You weren’t trying to be extraordinary. And maybe that was what intrigued her the most. Your happiness seemed so genuine, so simple, that Wanda wondered how anyone could find so much fulfillment in the everyday. How did the other Wanda see that? How did she feel so much for you?

Behind the flower-covered fence, Wanda crouched a little lower, her eyes fixed on you. When you turned to tidy the dishes, there was a graceful care in your movements, almost as though every gesture carried a greater purpose. It was impossible not to notice the affection in your actions.

The obsession inside her grew with every passing minute. The desire to decipher you, to understand every nuance, became almost unbearable. What did the other Wanda feel? Admiration? Love? Or something even deeper, something she herself had never experienced?

Wanda closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it would be like to be loved by you. Without secrets, without magic—just her, as she was. But, no matter how hard she tried, there was always an emptiness. An abyss between who she was and who she wanted to be.

When she opened her eyes again, you were drying your hands, laughing at something the boys had said just out of view. Your smile was so unpretentious, so natural, it seemed to hold all the warmth in the world. Wanda wondered: what did the other Wanda see when she looked at you?

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to contain the frustration. It wasn’t just envy burning inside her. It was something more dangerous, a desire to experience what the other Wanda felt. A desire to be seen, to be enough, even with her cracks and imperfections.

You turned toward the window, and for a moment, it seemed as though your eyes would meet hers. Wanda’s heart raced, and instinctively, she retreated further into the shadows, holding her breath. But you simply looked at the sky, a thoughtful smile on your lips before you turned and disappeared inside.

The cold night air seemed to claw at her skin, but she stayed there, still. Watching. Trying to understand. Trying to feel. Why were you so irresistibly enigmatic? Why did it seem impossible to control you, but equally impossible to resist you?

The awareness that this obsession was heading in a dangerous direction bothered her. With each passing day, her desire to understand and possess you grew. But the scariest part was realizing that this wasn’t just about envy or curiosity. It was about you. About who you were.

Wanda wanted to find out if she could love you the way the other Wanda did. Or, perhaps, in a way only she could.

[...]

Wanda was in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in her thoughts. Every moment of the day had been an internal struggle, a battle to maintain appearances while her conflicting emotions grew within her.

But something else was bothering her, something she couldn’t ignore: her powers.

This resistance intrigued and irritated her in equal measure. Why you? Why couldn’t she control you like she did everyone else?

Wanda was lost in these thoughts when she felt the mattress sink behind her. Before she could react, you climbed on top of her, pushing her down against the bed. Your knees were on either side of her hips, your hands firmly gripping her wrists and pinning them above her head.

Wanda’s eyes widened, her body stiff beneath yours as her blood rushed through her veins.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, her voice shakier than she intended.

You tilted your head, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and challenge. “I should be asking you that,” you said, your voice low but firm. “What’s going on, Wanda?”

For a moment, Wanda didn’t respond. Her gaze locked with yours, as if trying to find an excuse, an explanation. But nothing came. The warmth of your body against hers, the way your hands held her wrists so securely—it all seemed to send her mind into even greater chaos.

“This isn’t like you,” you continued, your voice now softer but still laced with concern. “You’re different. Distant. Like you’re carrying something heavy.”

Wanda tried to look away, but you didn’t let her, leaning closer, your faces so close she could feel your breath.

“You can talk to me,” you murmured, your voice now almost a whisper. “I know you, Wanda. Something’s wrong.”

The words hit Wanda deeply. Did you know her? Did you truly know her? Or were you just convinced you knew the version of her that wasn’t here now?

And then there was another problem—her powers. She tried, in that exact moment, to use her magic to enter your mind, to find answers. But again, it was like hitting an invisible wall. Nothing worked on you.

“Why doesn’t it work?” Wanda murmured, not realizing she had spoken aloud.

You frowned, confused. “What?”

She shook her head quickly. “Nothing,” she lied, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You can try to hide what you’re feeling,” you said, leaning even closer to her, your tone now more challenging. “But I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

The silence between you stretched, but there was something else there now. The tension in the air was almost palpable, a mix of emotion and something deeper, more dangerous.

Wanda couldn’t look away from you. The way you were on top of her, the way your hands held her wrists with such confidence—it was impossible to ignore the desire that was beginning to grow within her.

And the worst part was that she didn’t know how to react. She had never felt this way before, never desired someone like this. Not with Vision. Not with anyone.

And her curiosity about you didn’t help. Why didn’t her powers work on you? What made you so different? Was that what drew her in? Or was it just you?

You noticed the change in her. Her eyes, which had been filled with uncertainty moments ago, now held something else. Something you recognized immediately.

“Wanda…” you began, but stopped when you saw the way she was looking at you, as if on the brink of something.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” she murmured, her voice hoarse but lacking the strength to push you away.

“And you shouldn’t hide what you’re feeling from me,” you replied, leaning even closer to her until your faces were mere centimeters apart.

She took a deep breath, trying to regain control, but it was useless. All she could think about was you—so close, so confident.

For a moment, Wanda wanted to tell the truth. She wanted to tell you everything—about who she was, about what she had done to be here. But fear stopped her. Fear of losing you before she even had you completely.

So, she did the only thing she could in that moment: she gave in.

With a swift movement, she pulled her wrists free from your hands and grabbed you by the waist, flipping your positions. Now, she was on top of you, her eyes glowing with something you had never seen before.

“If you want to know what’s going on,” she said, her voice low but filled with emotion, “maybe I need to show you.”

And before you could respond, Wanda leaned down and kissed you, her mouth capturing yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

The kiss was firm, deliberate, almost calculated at first. But as her lips moved against yours, Wanda began to feel something she hadn’t expected. The warmth of your touch. The way you responded to her every movement.

The intent to distract quickly gave way to something more primal, stronger. She felt her body react to yours, her hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you.

And that was when Wanda lost control.

The kiss grew deeper, hungrier. Wanda’s breathing became ragged, her fingers pressing firmly against your wrists still pinned above your head. You arched your body to meet hers, and Wanda felt it.

You were wet for her, soaking her thighs with your arousal.

The shock and desire that coursed through Wanda were so intense that she almost pulled away. But instead, she dove even deeper. Her lips moved to your neck, nibbling lightly as you moaned, the soft sound echoing in the room and sending waves of heat straight to her.

This is real. It was the only thought running through her mind. You were real, here, wanting her, responding to her.

But then, something began to change. Wanda felt a familiar energy bubbling inside her, warm and powerful. Growing with every touch, every breath. The witch’s eyes began to burn, and when she opened them, she realized: the scarlet red was everywhere.

She tried to ignore it, but when you pressed your hips against hers, Wanda cursed softly at how naturally provocative you were. And then, she exploded.

A wave of red light flashed around you both, illuminating the entire room for a brief moment.

You opened your eyes, breathless and trembling, freezing when you saw the woman above you. Her unique deep green eyes now burned a brilliant, intense red.

“Wanda…” your voice was shaky, caught between curiosity and fear.

She pulled back, as if she had been shocked, realizing what was happening. Her eyes were entirely red, and the energy in her hands now pulsed against your wrists, no longer just holding you but encasing you.

“I…” Wanda began, her voice filled with panic as she tried to suppress the magic spilling out.

You blinked, looking at her in confusion. “Your eyes… what’s happening to you?”

Wanda tried to steady her breathing, pulling away from you as the energy still glowed faintly around her. How could she have been so careless? How could she have let this slip?

“I… I don’t know,” she lied, trying to hide the tremor in her voice.

You slowly sat up, watching her cautiously. “This has never happened before. You’re different, Wanda. I know it. Tell me what’s going on.”

Wanda looked at you, her heart racing. She wanted to tell you, to explain everything. But the fear of losing you, of shattering the moment she almost had with you, held her back.

You stepped closer to her—defying every warning your mind screamed at you—and cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at you. “Is this what’s making you act so strange?” you asked, your brow furrowed.

Wanda swallowed hard, your presence strong and magnetic, pulling her closer to you and the curve of your neck—where she so desperately wanted to bury her face. “Tell me, love. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”

And then Wanda understood.

You didn’t know about her powers in this universe because she couldn’t use them on you. She should have questioned your counterpart before sending her away in her place.

The tension in the room was unbearable. The pulsing red of Wanda’s powers still dimly illuminated the space, like an erratic heartbeat. She stood now, her breathing uneven, while you remained seated on the bed, your eyes locked onto hers, filled with questions and conflicting emotions.

Wanda felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. Your words echoed in her mind, daring her to tell you the truth. But how could she? How would you react to learning who she truly was, to understanding what she had done to be here, with you?

You stood slowly, your eyes never leaving hers. “I won’t push you, Wanda,” you said, your voice low but steady. “But you need to be honest with me. Whatever it is you’re carrying, I want to carry it with you.”

The gentleness in your voice broke something inside Wanda. For a moment, the desire burning in her chest was overshadowed by guilt and fear. But the intensity of the moment, the warmth lingering in the air between you, pulled her back.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. The red in her eyes began to fade, returning to the green you knew, but the tension didn’t lessen.

“I do,” you replied without hesitation.

But she hesitated, the words catching in her throat. Then something shifted. Maybe it was the way you looked at her, without judgment, just a fierce curiosity and a silent devotion. Or maybe it was the fact that, for the first time in so long, Wanda didn’t want to carry this burden alone.

“I’m not… the Wanda you know,” she began, each word heavy. “I came from somewhere else. Another… universe.”

You frowned, clearly confused, but didn’t interrupt. Wanda continued.

“I lost everything. My husband, my children, even my dog. I just wanted to get it all back… and when I came here, I saw the chance to start over and—”

“Where is my Wanda?” you interrupted sharply.

Of course, something was wrong. Wanda hadn’t touched your belly or spoken to Seline the way she did every morning; this Wanda not being yours was entirely justifiable.

With jealousy simmering in your gut, you asked again, your voice tight with emotion. “Where is she?”

With a flicker of defiance and desperation, the witch responded, “I am your Wanda.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The tension in the air felt like a taut string ready to snap. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process what you had just heard.

“You’re… my Wanda?” Your voice was low, filled with disbelief and something deeper—a mix of anger, pain, and a trace of betrayal.

Wanda took a step toward you, her hands outstretched as if to reach for you, but she stopped when she saw the hard look in your eyes. “I am,” she insisted, her voice firm but trembling with vulnerability. “I’m yours, in every way that matters. I’m here now, and all I want is—”

“—to steal her life?” you interrupted, your voice as sharp as a knife. Wanda recoiled as though struck.

“It’s not like that,” she protested, her posture crumbling. “I just want my children with me, that’s all.”

You stepped back, creating space between you, but Wanda followed, as though unable to bear the thought of you moving away from her. “You knew,” you said, your voice quieter now but still laden with emotion. “You knew she was here, that she existed, yet you chose to take her place.”

Wanda shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I just wanted—”

“—to deceive me,” you cut her off again, your pain evident. “You think you can just be her? That I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t know something was wrong?”

Wanda moved closer again, ignoring the distance you tried to create. Her hands found your shoulders, gripping you with a desperate strength. “I didn’t want to deceive you,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just wanted… my boys, a family. I want a family.”

Her words hit you like a blow, and for a moment, your anger and resentment wavered. But the confusion and jealousy remained, coursing through your veins like a constant reminder of everything at stake.

“You don’t understand what this means to me,” Wanda continued, her eyes searching yours, desperate for a spark of understanding. “I lost everything. There was nothing left but pain. And then I saw you. And you… you’re everything I never knew I needed.”

“But I didn’t choose you,” you said, your voice finally steadying, though still heavy with emotion. “I chose her.”

Wanda froze, and the silence that followed was almost unbearable. Then, she let go of your shoulders, stepping back as though your words had struck her.

“You don’t understand,” she murmured, more to herself than to you. Her eyes darkened, and the red energy began to pulse around her again, a physical manifestation of the storm raging within her.

“Wanda,” you said, your voice filled with warning, a touch of pain.

A sudden, sharp pain shot through your abdomen, and you cried out, doubling over. “Wanda!”

Wanda spun around at the sound of your scream, the scarlet glow in her eyes vanishing in an instant. Her gaze fixed on you, now hunched over, one hand clutching your belly while the other gripped the back of a chair to stay upright.

“Are you okay?” The concern in her voice was genuine, but you could barely respond. A searing pain coursed through your body, pulling a groan from your lips.

“No… it’s not okay,” you managed to say, your words halting. “The water… broke.”

Wanda froze for a second, shock and fear washing over her. But then, like a switch flipping, she sprang into action. In an instant, she was by your side, one hand steadying your back while the other grasped yours, guiding you toward the door.

“Oh. Fuck! Boys, wake up!” she yelled, her voice firm but laced with urgency. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

You tried to walk, but your legs felt like jelly, and the pain was overwhelming. Wanda noticed immediately and, without hesitation, scooped you into her arms as if you weighed nothing.

“Hold on tight,” she murmured, already rushing toward the car.

The drive to the hospital was a blur. Every bump in the road seemed to amplify your pain, and you clung to Wanda's hand as if your life depended on it. She drove fast, her face tense as she cast worried glances in your direction.

"Breathe, Y/n. We’ll get there in time," she said, but it was impossible for you to focus on anything other than the pain and the growing sense that something was wrong.

When you arrived at the hospital, the medical team was ready, thanks to Wanda’s phone call during the drive. You were rushed into the delivery room, and Wanda insisted on staying by your side, even as the doctors tried to make her wait outside.

The delivery was chaotic. The room was filled with hurried voices, beeping monitors, and you struggled to stay focused as your body seemed to wage war against itself.

"Just a little more," the doctor encouraged, but your vision was already beginning to darken around the edges.

Wanda held your hand tightly, her expression desperate as her eyes glowed an intense red. She was trying to keep control, but the fear of losing you was clearly winning the battle.

"Bring her back, please..." Your voice was weak, almost a whisper, but it was enough for Wanda to hear.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. "No, don’t say that," she pleaded, gripping your hand tightly.

"Please," you repeated, your voice barely audible as tears streamed down your pale face.

Wanda hesitated, looking at you as if standing at the edge of an abyss. She knew what you were asking. And she knew that if she did it, there would be consequences—for you, for her, for everyone.

But she wanted to be here, wanted to see little Seline be born, wanted to hold her for just a moment.

When the cry of the first baby filled the room, Wanda closed her eyes tightly. But then, hearing your weak groan and seeing the deathly pallor spreading over you, she knew she had no choice.

"I can’t lose this," she whispered to herself as the scarlet magic manifested.

The room was engulfed in a bright red light, and the doctors screamed in shock. Wanda ignored everything, focusing solely on you and the plea that echoed in her mind.

"Bring her back..."

And, with tears streaming down her face, Wanda did exactly that.

[...]

The hospital room was silent except for the soft beeping of the monitors in the background. The other Wanda stood by the window, cradling the baby delicately. The child’s eyes were closed, but when they opened, they revealed an intense, piercing green—just like Wanda's.

The Witch stepped into the room, the tension in her shoulders unmistakable. She hesitated upon seeing her counterpart there, but it was impossible to look away from the small life that was now part of their universe.

"She’s beautiful," the Witch said, her voice low, almost reverent.

The other Wanda smiled faintly, though her eyes carried a silent sadness. "The eyes are ours," she replied with quiet conviction, handing the baby to the Witch.

The Witch took the child carefully, feeling the light yet significant weight in her arms. When the baby’s green eyes opened again, something inside her shifted. A wave of emotion washed over her, deeper than any spell or magic she had ever known.

Seline was born with a head full of hair and rosy skin, with chubby cheeks—just like yours, the Witch thought.

"She’s perfect," the Witch whispered, almost unable to believe that something so pure could exist in her life.

The other Wanda watched in silence for a moment before speaking. "You know you can’t stay here, right?" she began, her voice calm but firm.

The Witch lifted her gaze, tense. "I know."

"I’ve prepared everything for you... but somewhere else," the other Wanda said, choosing her words carefully. "This universe isn’t your home. You weren’t meant to stay here. I created the possibility of this life, this opportunity, but not here."

The Witch frowned, but the other Wanda continued.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Isn’t it obvious? I’m you. Who better to understand you than yourself?" Her copy laughed softly before continuing, "You need to find a place where you can be happy, where you can start over without... everything that brought you here," she explained. "There’s a new universe waiting for you. It’s different, but... it has potential. Maybe even for a new beginning with her."

The Witch looked down at the baby in her arms, her heart aching. The idea of leaving her, of leaving her boys, you, seemed unbearable. But she knew her counterpart was right.

"Why can’t we use our powers on her?" the Witch suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

"Ah... So you’ve discovered what makes Y/n so special." The copy crossed her arms, amused. "For a long time, I hated that about her, almost like an affront to who I am. Until I realized..."

She stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on the Witch’s shoulder. "She’s our multiversal anchor."

The Witch looked up, intrigued.

"In the multiverse, every being has a unique essence, a 'code' that ties them to their universe of origin. However, in rare cases, there are individuals who act as 'multiversal anchors'—people who, unknowingly, possess an unbreakable connection to the fabric of the multiverse."

The copy continued her monologue:

"These anchors are immune to magical or cosmic manipulations that could alter their natural course. This means no external force, not even chaos magic, can change their thoughts, emotions, or memories."

The Witch was silent, the words echoing in her mind. It all made sense now—the irresistible pull, the inability to control her, the sense of love that transcended logic and reason.

"So, what do I do now?" the Witch finally asked.

The other Wanda sighed, a melancholic smile on her lips. "Go to where you belong. Maybe there, you’ll find what you’re looking for."

With one last look at the baby, the Witch handed her back to the other Wanda. She stepped back, the pain of leaving evident on her face, but determination already beginning to shine in her eyes.

When the Witch opened a portal, the scarlet light illuminated the room briefly before vanishing.

[...]

The new universe was brighter, younger somehow. The Witch looked around, taking in the subtle yet undeniable differences.

And then she saw you.

You, but younger. More innocent. With the same eyes and smile that had already captivated her, but without the weight of everything you had been through together.

She stopped, her heart pounding in her chest.

And there, in the midst of an unfamiliar universe, with the possibility of starting anew, the Witch took the first step.

In the grand tapestry of the universe, every thread is woven with purpose, each knot tied with deliberate intention. No force, no will, no magic can alter what the hands of destiny have inscribed.

The stars may burn and the galaxies may spiral in infinite chaos, but they all dance to a rhythm preordained. Each life, like a thread, intertwines with others, forming patterns that cannot be unraveled, no matter how fervently one might try.

Destiny is not a shackle but a compass, guiding every soul toward a purpose they may not yet understand. It is unyielding, yet fair; silent, yet deafening in its clarity. Even the mightiest beings, those who wield chaos and creation in their hands, are bound by its immutable lines.

It is said that to defy destiny is to defy the essence of existence itself. For the universe, in its infinite wisdom, knows what is meant to be—and ensures that, in the end, it comes to pass.

~*~

Everything back in its rightful place :)

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[xoxo-sarah]

Bone Gnawing Guilt

↝a/n: first post of 2025 and we're starting this year off with angst I guess.

↝pairing: season 7!Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: ANGST, Negan, the line up, season 7 episode 1 (I think), possible spoilers if you have watched season 7 yet, death (Abraham and Glenn), guilt, gore, crying, the usual twd stuff, not proofread, self hatred?, mention of Daryl's childhood

↝⎙ 1.2.25

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

Daryl could only watch.

There wasn't anything else he could do. He couldn't get himself to stand, to walk over to you. He watched as you crumbled, all of your emotions laid out for everyone to see. Face scrunched up, lip quivering, face getting more red by the second, as sobs rattled your body. Blood coated your right cheek; blood that wasn't yours. But, that of a friend you held so close to your heart.

Your own sobs layered with Maggie's, making everyone's heart clench with a devastating feeling.

Daryl had felt guilt before. It was beat into him at a very young age. Everything was always his fault. With his father being an alcoholic, there was always something that was wrong, that the abusive man could take out on Daryl, who was only a kid. After Daryl's mother died, that was a reoccurring instance that was brought up, followed by getting yelled at and kicked around.

Maybe the guilt started there. Either way, it sprouted in his developing brain and grew until it took over his body, the roots trapping him in his body that he hated so much.

Daryl fought against the men trying to drag him to a truck. No amount of fighting -to get to you- helped. He was shoved into the truck, still being able to hear the sobs. He threw his head back, time after time. Maybe if he hit hard enough, he wouldn't be able to hear your heartbreak anymore.

-

The roar of the Savior's trucks echoed as they got further away.

No one moved. They couldn't. Their bones felt like jelly, their hearts thumping in their ears. Maggie stood on wobbly legs.

The rest was a blur in your peripheral vision. Your eyes were planted on the dirt below, crimson weaving in between the mix of dirt and rocks.

Rocks dug into your legs, leaving an imprint

It didn't matter.

Everything was numb, you felt numb. Even after the bodies were picked up or dragged, you stayed, kneeled beside the puddle.

Rick stood beside the truck, watching as your body involuntarily swayed.

A walker stumbled out of the woods, snarling.

You didn't seem to notice.

Rick started toward you, grabbing you by the forearm. He didn't have the energy to kill the walker, or have to carry another dead body to bury.

Your body was dead weight under his hip You didn't notice the walker stumbling toward you. Tears lefts tracks down your face, mixing with the blood and dirt seeping into your pores.

You only looked up when Rick tugged one final time, dragging you to your feet. The look in your eyes was almost as awful as the sight had been with Negan just a little while ago.

Words lefts your mouth in a hopeless whisper, stating what Rick already knew. His eyes softened as your voice broke in the middle of your sentence.

“They took him.”

-

The sound of the wooden bat against skull was heard all round the group. The lineup watched in horror, even Negan's men were in shock. This whole thing was gross. Blood splattered with every harsh movement. Abraham laid lifeless. Muscles and nerves twitched.

It was too much.

Daryl stood before he knew what he was doing.

The moment played

over and over in Daryl's head as he sat on the cold floor, pushing himself into the corner of the small, dark room. The gruesome pictures were a reminder of what he had done. What finally broke you. You lost yourself when Glenn, a friend you had made in the beginning, died right beside you. It could have easily been you. God knows the 'what if's swam around your head after the tears had stopped. It wasn't fair.

You weren't with the group when they had hijacked the satellite outpost. You didn't have any part of it, yet you had the blood on your cheek, the trauma of seeing what happened with your own eyes.

If he hadn't stood up and punched Negan, Glenn would still be alive. He would be there for his and Maggie's baby. He would be there to tease you, like he had done since the quarry. The two of you acted like siblings. Now, he was dead. The reason Daryl had first noticed you, as you laughed and pushed Glenn away as he picked at you, was gone. Your laugh caught Daryl's attention, the laugh that Glenn caused. You wouldn't ever laugh like that again, not in this world.

The evidence was strewn across the concrete in front of him. The Polaroids of Glenn's remains were a cruel reminder.

You probably hated him. You probably blamed him. Daryl wouldn't be mad if you did.

You most likely hated him. It would be easier if you did.

If Daryl were to see you after all of this, if he were to escape, he was unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. It would be easier to live with the hate than with the guilt.

He would feel the guilt until the snake that was death struck its fangs into his heart, the venom seeping throughout his veins, throughout his body until it paralyzes him, causing his body to give up in the long run. The guilt would run through his veins as long as his blood stayed warm.

•2021-2025 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I do NOT give permission!]

[melitherion]

~This went a much different direction than I had originally intended, but here's whatever this is~

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🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

TPOF Fox x MC/Reader

Reader finds themselves struggling with stockholm syndrome, and the slow attachment they're beginning to create towards their captor.

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The familiar weight of the collar settled against your shoulders as you achingly sat up in bed. A warm down comforter and probably the most luxurious sheets you'd ever found yourself settled beneath did nothing to ease the anxiety the cool metal stirred within you, nor did it soothe sore muscles under layers of carefully laid bandages across your body. You could feel the stitches itching unbearably underneath.

Sliding out of bed, your steps as quiet as you could manage against the wood flooring, you crept to the door, reaching out to slowly turn the handle. Stepping out into the eerie silence that blanketed the entirety of the house, there was a moment of hesitation before you allowed your voice to fill the empty air.

"Fox?" You called out, your voice cracking, a reminder of the strain against your throat and vocal cords brought on by minutes...hours...days of screaming. The glare of monitor screens and illuminated vulpine eyes fixated upon your bleeding battered body flashed in your thoughts for just a moment before you managed to push the memories back into the hazier parts of your mind. Dizzy, you took a gasping breath you hadn't even realized your lungs had been desperately crying for.

Despite being alone, at least for now, you kept your footsteps light as you crept down the hallway and into the living room.

There's a vague memory somewhere of being spoon-fed soup when your shaking hands couldn't handle the minute exertion of lifting a utensil to your lips. The affectionate way his eyes crinkled as you took the food into your mouth could have been a lie crafted by the copious amount of drugs still floating through your system.

You knew the basic layout of the house, but due to still healing injuries you'd not had the energy nor the presence of mind to explore your new cage. Your home, he'd called it. Your body jerked as phantom claws gently caressed your shoulders, your neck, lingering under your jaw for just a moment; a loving caress or a sharp reminder that the life pulsing just beneath the beastkin's fingertips was no longer yours alone. Home? A bed of nails. A bed fitted with luxury cotton sheets and the finest down comforter that money could buy. Fingers so cruel but so gentle as they caressed your head guiding you to the pillow to sleep, drowsy from pain meds and the physical exhaustion that came with recovery.

Fox broke you into pieces. Then Fox put you back together again, a little less perfect each time. A beloved doll he couldn't help but play with too roughly. How he adored your cracks though.

You recalled rust-tinted water draining away with your sanity as you were wrapped carefully in a clean towel, and later redressed in comfortable clothing just your size. So gently, so as not to further pain your wounded body.

Fatigue gripped you in its claws as you found yourself wandering out of the kitchen, the contents of the refrigerator, fresh bloody meat and a not too small supply of raw chicken hearts tearing away any sense of appetite you might have had. It wasn't often that you reflected upon the fact that you too were meat. Fox seemed to enjoy his meals best when they were bloody and raw.

You found yourself at last silently stepping into Fox's bedroom. You'd been in here before, though the memories were foggy. Your self-inflicted wound from Fox's stream finale promised no easy recovery and as such for the first few nights in Fox's house you spent your days resting in his bed, under his watchful eyes. He'd made certain you weren't alone for even a moment until you were recovered enough to handle your basic needs by yourself. Whether it was purely for your sake or for his you didn't know.

You were lonely, and you wanted, no–craved his presence, like a starving stray animal. It made you feel sick, a knife twisting deep into your core, an agonizing pain that you could feel this time. He hurt you and broke you open in ways no one else ever could, and yet afterwards you'd find yourself leaning once more into the beastkin's touch as he turned stinging pain into ecstacy and warmth. A prey animal with no survival instinct.

Burrowing beneath the sheets of his bed you were enveloped in his lingering scent, stirring your pulse, though out of desire or dread you couldn't be certain. You pressed your face into his pillow, almost reveling in the way the lingering fox fur tickled your skin. A strange sense of comfort confronted you. Somewhere else in the house a door opened and closed, and your name echoed through the air, but sleep had already washed over you.

~

[inbooyork]

Mel Medarda: My Queen

The undertones of that statement: Arcane Review

Watched Arcane a while ago but was reminded of it whilst scrolling on Pinterest. Saw a comment claiming to never forgive Jayce for his relationship with Mel (obviously a joke), but I got me thinking about the racial implications behind that statement.

I realised this on TikTok, as I saw plenty Mel ��stans” claiming she was too self-sufficient to be in a relationship with Jayce and should therefore leave him to be with Victor whilst she remains alone. Or that she was blocking Jayce X Victor.

That idea is reminiscent of the strong black woman stereotype. Although non-black people have convinced themselves this is a positive stereotype, it still does damage. The implication behind that stereotype is that she—the black woman—is completely dependable, she will not complain over your need for help and will always be there for you regardless of its effect on herself.

Under the guise of being progressive, they feed into that stereotype. That she is somehow above vulnerability. That it is a lack of “womanly” vulnerable emotions; she is only capable of anger or lust.

Which leads into the manipulative Mel archetype the fandom created. Melding her into this cartoonishly manipulative, strong black woman who used her sexuality to strong-arm the brainless Jayce.

That despite everything she didn’t love Jayce and he didn’t love her. (Complete trash)

Both spectrums do not reflect her character. She is rather above weak emotions or the disposable black girlfriend trope. regardless of intention created a false idea of her.

[doomssoiree]

DAYDREAM SERIES(txt ver.)

❤︎ ────living through five daydreams with five dreamy boys.

daydream one has been delivered…

DREAM #1:

(수빈)soobin. hold me down.

TROPE: office romance, boss + assistant, co-workers to lovers

TAGS: nsfw, smut, vanilla, fluff, slice of life

I was wondering, could you hold me down?

── SOOBIN BEGINS to realize he has more than a tiny infatuation for you after you take care of him and his morning hangover, prompting him to visit unannounced in the evening to sort out his feelings with you. little did he know, that would land him in a tub full of bubbles with you.

“If you love baby, let me hear you say it, I know I’m your favorite.”

── SOOBIN'S GROANS filled the space of the room, echoing off the walls and coming right back to him, further irritating his growing headache. the man sat up, as much as his aching body would let him, holding his hands over his face to avoid the sun glaring into his window, casting her warm rays over the room, which usually he’d find comforting but the hangover looming over his being made him unable to enjoy her visit to his morning. soobin wiped his hands down his face, trying to get rid of the exhaustion and drowsiness before opening his eyes, only to end up squinting against the stinging sunlight. he scanned his bedroom, picking up on the small disturbances in the usually organized room.

he noticed that his clothes from the night before were littered on the floor, some of the things on his dresser knocked over, his phone laying at the end of the bed, probably dead by now. these were small signs of soobin coming home drunk and making a mess, though before he could try and recollect on the events of the past, a soft knock from his door pulled him out of his thoughts. his eyes slowly moved towards the door, anxiety spiking at the idea of some woman his drunken self may have brought home coming through, which he was in no state to deal with. 

“Mr. choi, can I come in?” the familiarity of the soft voice immediately soothed soobin’s worries, filling him with a sense of comfort that only one person on this earth can bring him, other than his family. “of course, come in.” soobin responded, as loud as he could without hurting his head more, voice deep and raspy from lingering sleep and the light scratch in his throat. a small smile found his lips as his lovely assistant pushed the door open, a warm smile on your own face and hands bearing your purse, flowers, and a plastic bag that made soobin a little curious. the man’s eyes followed you as you journeyed further into his room, watching as you placed your purse and bag on the bed before moving to place the fresh flowers in the vase on his nightstand, replacing the dead ones he’d been too busy to take care of. 

“how are you feeling? Is the hangover bad?” you asked gently, making soobin groan at the reminder of the tension of the hangover weighing on him, “it’s pretty bad..” he mumbled, sounding almost inaudible due to the depth of his voice. you hummed in response to him, “I thought so. you should take some medicine.” soobin nodded agreement, following your figure as you moved closer to the bed and dug through your purse, pulling out a container of painkillers and then grabbing a bottle of water from the plastic bag. soobin’s smile only got bigger, dimples peeking as he accepted the medication and water. 

soobin always adored how caring you were, more than he’d like to admit. it was just something about you going out of your way to do things like this and making sure he was at his best health, that made his heart swell. it was really just something about you, your kind and comforting aura, that drew him in, made him want to be closer. you had to be one of the best assistants that he’s had, and he had many. and maybe, he’s just saying that because he has a tiny infatuation with you, but at least he’s being honest. 

“you’re too good to me. aren’t you tired of me?” soobin asked as he sat back against his headboard, running his ring clad hand through his hair, a lazy smile forming on his lips as you laughed at his question. “even if I was, I wouldn’t tell you.” you responded, earring a wider grin from him and a light shake of his head. when you started to move from his side, soobin felt a twinge of disappointment, already missing the banter that you two commonly shared before you were even gone, or maybe it was just you he’d miss.

“I brought you some tea and soup for your hangover, I’ll put them in the fridge before I go.” you told the man, earning a hum from him as he watched you near the door, a frown and a look of longing on his face, a reaction to you leaving that he didn’t realize was showing in his expression. oh how he wished to reach out and tell you to stay, take care of him, wash away the remaining ache that hadn’t been reached by your comfort yet. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. choi. please rest well on your day off.” you gentle voice pulled his heartstrings, as did that cute little smile you gave him. you both shared a look of understanding, easily informing him that you cleared his schedule so he could recover without disruption, without saying anything. god he loved that. “I will, my love. and thank you.” soobin responded just as gently, noting the way your smile turned slightly timid at the pet name. you were just so gorgeous no matter what you did, huh? he gave a small nod as you waved goodbye, willing himself not to jump out of bed and cling to you like a dog who didn’t want his owner to leave.

your absence immediately made the room become ten times colder than before and the sun’s rays much duller, as if you took the sun herself, and the heat that came with it, with you. maybe he was just imagining things, but it felt like his world was so much colder, nearly grey when you weren’t around. the aura and the overall warmth that radiated off of you, genuinely made him feel so much better, like you just transfer your energy and easily cleanse his, make him feel relaxed and calm. there’s just something about you that made him feel so right, so at home.

god he missed you, it was a sickening feeling that had him hiding underneath his covers like a scared toddler, hiding from his thoughts of you, someone that worked for him. it was so strange that he thought of you this way, and he just couldn’t figure out why; or maybe he was just trying to avoid the reason why, because he was trying to convince himself that he shouldn’t feel such a way about his assistant, but the more he tried, the more he yearned to break that rule and hope you’d do or feel the same. 

soobin sighed, closing his eyes so that he could sleep off these lingering feelings and the dull aching in his body. he needed to get a grip.

“first you love me, then you leave me in the basement. I know i’m favorite”

the steam hazed into the air, filling the kitchen with an infused scent of miso soup and raspberry hibiscus tea. the light mist fogged up soobin’s glasses as he took spoonfuls of soup into his mouth while staring at the documents on his laptop screen, but clearing as soon as it came once he put the utensil down. the warm liquid danced on his taste buds gently, waltzing gracefully down his throat and settling in his stomach peacefully, leaving a warm feeling that he’s never quite felt before while eating food; that was even more of a clear sign that the soup was homemade, other than the fact that it came in a glass container with strawberries on it, something only you would own. something about a home-cooked meal left such a fluttery feeling in soobin, he could easily feel the love that was put in it and it reminded him so much of his mother. the fact that you made it for him, made it ten times more special, made his poor heart squeeze. 

he found it rather hard to focus with all these thoughts and feelings floating around, every single little thing making him think of you: the tea, the soup, his mother’s loving messages, his cat rubbing his calf, even the documents he keeps having to re-read. you just seem to be surrounding him, like you felt tiny pieces of yourself in everything he owned, the biggest pieces being in his mind and heart.

soobin sighed, shutting his laptop and leaning back in his seat, hands running through his hair in exhaustion, as if he hadn’t spent the past hour getting nothing done. this internal spiral he seemed to be going through was taking a toll on him, as well as that dull aching that was wrapping its cold hands around his body and soul. when he’d awakened earlier, around three pm, soobin had quickly discovered that this ache was not caused by his hangover; no, those symptoms had faded long before you left; it was something else entirely. it was the feeling of longing that settled in his bones, heavy sorrow that sat on his shoulders and dragged him down; there was a tight string around his mournful heart, and it tugged, tugged, and tugged, begging for him to follow and go to where he belonged. his heart missed you, and it was desperate to be with you, he needed to be with you, he yearned for it no matter how his mind tried to convince him otherwise.

oh, what was a man to do? what was he to do when these feelings were no longer ones to ignore, that ran too deep in his body and festered in the darkest corners within him. this tiny infatuation was never tiny, nor was it just an infatuation, this man was in love with you, and he had been from the moment he watched you be interviewed from the hallway outside of the conference room. soobin was in love with you. 

soobin played with the thought a little in his head, let himself come to terms with it and made a silent agreement with his heart not to fight it anymore; by the time it really settled in his mind, he was already up and on the way to the door, leaving behind his meal. no meal was more important than you in the moment or any moment. he had to sort out these feelings with you before tomorrow or he might not be able to be in the same room with you without exploding. 

“pussy so good it sets me on fire, I leave myself, I elevate higher.”

sounds of flowing water peeked from the crack of the door, like the sound of a flowing stream, whispering a soothing serenade to your weary body, calling you to its sanctuary of warmth and promising to make all your woes disappear, should you listen. you were tempted to, the coolness of the silk fabric tied around your body making your body feel extra sensitive, the fatigue making your bones groan with each movement you made. still, you would resist temptation till you finished organizing the orders for soobin’s business party next week. 

being choi soobin’s assistant was never an easy job, but doing half of your boss’s work for the day, plus yours, proved to be more than your mind and body could handle. of course you were glad that the man got to rest after getting hammered the night before, but you seemed to have overestimated your skills a bit. you don’t even know how soobin runs a whole company without getting burned out. that man was an absolute god warrior. speaking of soobin, you wondered how he was holding up, if his hangover was any better. soobin was a strong man and probably gotten over it by now but you can’t help but worry about him, though you couldn’t tell if that was just because of your raging crush on him or just because he was your boss. either way you hoped he was okay. 

a sudden knock pierced through your train of thought, prompting you to glance at the little clock in the bottom right corner of your laptop screen and wonder who was at your door at seven pm. you pushed your laptop out of your lap, setting it aside as you slid off the bed. you peeked into the bathroom from where you were standing, the tub not being even halfway filled to the point that you usually liked. you were thankful to soobin for being able to live in such a luxurious apartment that had a bathtub nearly the size of a pool. a small smile tugged at your lips at the thought, hands tightening the robe as you walked out of your bedroom, making sure none of your assets would be shown to whatever stranger you may greet.

the floorboards creaked under your light footsteps, the lights reflecting off the gold of your jewelry as you ventured to your front door, wondering who could be paying you a visit at such a time of the night. you expected it to be something bizarre, used to yeonjun and beomgyu popping up randomly with dumb suggestions of things to do for fun or out of this world stories to tell, but what you hadn’t anticipated to be oh so patiently waiting behind the door was your boss; choi soobin himself. your heart had leaped into your throat before you two even locked eyes, mind swirling on the possibility of reasons he could be at your doorstep right now.

“Mr. choi? what are you doing here?” you spoke up first, hoping your voice didn’t reveal how shocked and nervous you were. “just call me soobin for tonight. I’m not Mr. choi at the moment.” he told you softly, voice just as nervous as you were internally and a light blush dusted across the skin of his cheeks and nose as he rubbed the back of his neck; what surprised you more was the fact that he wanted you to call him by his first name, you didn’t know weather to be worried or endeared. he stared, as if waiting for you to repeat your question but with his name this time, you almost rolled your eye. “soobin, what are you doing here?” you asked again, for his satisfaction, heart leaping again at the way he grinned.

If only you knew how his own heart started racing at that; it just rolled off your tongue so smooth, he especial like the way you pronounced soo and bin with a tiny space between them, how cute. he just wants to drop the formalities all the way at this point, hear you say his name all day.

“I came to talk to you, my love. we have something important to discuss.” oh god, the way he said my love, so sweetly and lovingly, could send you straight to heaven. he always told you that you were too sweet, but choi soobin? he was the sweetest, and you just so happened to have a sweet tooth. 

his words gave you slight anxiety, brain quickly racking through your every action throughout the day and wondering if you’d done anything to upset him in anyway; if he’s letting you call him soobin and calling you my love then it’s a slim chance, but that did not sooth your overthinking mind. as if he sensed your slight distress, soobin shook his head and took your hands in his, “don’t overthink it honey, it’s nothing bad, I promise.” he cooed, the pet name making your stomach erupt with butterflies. it’s the second time he’s used such sweet names in the past five minutes and you already felt you might vomit, in a good way. 

soobin was always so quick to soothe your woes as quick as he sniffed them out, luring you out of your angst and overthinking with ease, like some kind of healing fairy. the first time he did it was what caused your little crush; you’d made a mistake that put him in a bit of trouble, though he was able to fix it. you’d beat yourself up about it, scaring yourself half to death because you believed he was going to fire you, but he was quick to shut it down. he’d held your face in his hands, gently shaking your head side to side as he reassured you that he wasn’t going to fire you, that he can’t fault you for a mistake on something he should have handle himself or at least help you with, it was your first week working with him and  you were prone to mistakes.

he’d asked for forgiveness after comforting you, flashing you that charming smile that made his dimples so prominent, and sending your heart into a downward spiral straight into his hands. you’ll never forget that moment, and suddenly that was all you could think about as he held your hands, looking at you so tenderly and reassuring you so gently; you could just drown in him and never come up. 

your stare seemed to make soobin nervous, the man shifting on his feet slightly and inhaling, swallowing with a light bop of his adams apple; it made you grin softly seeing your usually calm, collected, and charming boss so fidgety in your presence, though your not sure why, it was endearing still. soobin was having an inner crisis in the meantime, still trying to figure out how to talk to you about his feelings and wondering how the hell you're so cute and sexy at the same time. god you were such an angel.

“can I…come in?” he asked after clearing his throat, adding a bit of depth to his voice but still keeping his tone soft for you. you nodded with a gentle smile that made his heart thump harshly against his chest. he followed you into the apartment, to which he was familiar with since he bought it, so he didn’t bother looking around, the comfort of it already making him sure he’d spend the rest of his day here with you, if you’d let him. 

soobin took the time to admire you as he sauntered behind: taking note of your shiny hair and pretty skin, your side profile he could slightly see from this angle, every curve and dip of your gorgeous self. he admired every perfect imperfection his eyes could see, just soaking you in and not doubting for a second in his mind that you were divinely made. oh how he longed to take you in his arms, hold you close and kiss each and every part of skin his lips could reach, worshipping you like you deserve. soobin was a weak, desperate man for you.

“so, what do you wanna talk about?” his heart jumps at the question, eyes watching as you sat down, rather gracefully in his opinion, and crossed your legs, his gaze dropping down to the smooth limbs and hands aching to touch him. he cleared his throat, ripping his eyes away and adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. he was feeling rather hot under your gaze.

“well…” he started, but the words sort of died on his tongue and fell back into the dark pit of his mind. he didn’t know how to put his feelings into full sentences; he didn’t want to just tell you that he was in love with you and that’s it, he wanted to tell you everything he felt in detail but then he’d sound like shakespeare. he didn’t know how to confess, but he wanted it to be respectful and not seem like he was forcing his feelings onto you, most of all he wanted it to be memorable. 

soobin sank to his knees in front of you, like you were the queen herself, to him you were. he placed his hands beside both your thighs, maintaining his respectful stance while being so close in proximity. “listen, my love, I want to be honest with you.” he started, letting his mind speak while being mindful of the limited amount of words he had before he’d start rambling. he looked up, the small sparkle in your eyes making him smile, he loved your little curious looks. unfortunately for him, he couldn’t hear how your heart was beating furiously. 

“I want you to know that i’ve loved you for quite some time now.” it was only the first sentence and both of you could feel your hearts beating out of your chests, breaths syncing up as nerves radiated in the air. “for the longest time, i’ve felt this ache in me that I couldn’t quite explain. I found myself missing you even when we were in the same room and yearning for you to be closer.” you’d forgotten how to breathe at this point, each word making your heart swell the more he spoke with so much love and almost a hint of desperation, you never believed someone could love you this much.  

“I need you so bad, that it physically hurts.”

“my love, I love you so damn much, it makes me sick to my stomach.”

he expressed it like he was to die in the next minute, like they were his dying words that he had to say to you for him to be able to move on peacefully. you would have thought he’d just recited a poem with the way you teared up, with the way your heart felt as if it would explode out of your chest, it felt as if he’d set you soul on fire with the passion he put into the words he spoke. soobin, a little worried due to your reaction, moved his hands to your thighs, soothingly rubbing circles on the silk adorned skin and shushing you softly, not to stop you from possibly crying but to tell you to let his words settle for a few minutes. “you can cry, gorgeous, but don’t give me a response yet, that’s not what I came for.” he told you gently, leaning down to kiss your knee before resting his head there and basking in your beauty, something he could do for years.

as if soobin’s words and actions were a request, tears slowly descended down your cheeks, hands finding the man’s face and squishing it slightly, earning a smile as he leaned in your hand. the love and emotion that the two of you felt for each other melded together, floating slowly up into the air and surrounding you with a warm glow. you loved this man more than he knew, and you so badly wanted to tell him, return the feelings, stay in this moment forever but you would have to save that for later because you seemed to have just now remembered that you left the tub running. 

soobin was a little shocked when you suddenly shot up from the couch, chuckling at the gasp you let out as you scurried away. he slowly stood up, placing his hand on his racing heart as he followed after you, letting the string that wrapped so tightly around the organ, guide him to where it wants to be. “must’ve forgotten something.” he mused with a smile as he stepped into the bathroom after you, watching fondly as you stopped the sigh of the faucet and sighed yourself, relieved that the water wasn’t too close to the top of the tub. soobin’s eyes scanned the spacious bathroom, noticing the dim lights, the lit candles, the bubbles floating over the water, and the flowers that littered the steamy liquids. you must have been planning on relaxing in the bath before he’d came by, which made him feel a little bad for interrupting.

“did I disturb you?” he asked as he approached where you were sitting on the edge of the tub, you shook your head, “no but you should be careful, you might slip-” your words were cut short as your foot slipped from under you, as if you’d jinxed yourself by trying to warn him. soobin barely had time to react when you grabbed onto his shirt in an attempted to save yourself, his arm flying out to wrap around your waist, which was no use because he ended up losing his own footing and making both of you tumble into the deep cavern of water and bubbles, the edges of the tub just high enough to keep any large amounts of water from splashing on the floor, save a few drops. 

your bodies sunk into the water, colliding together as soobin landed on top of you and his face pressed against your wet shoulder as bubbles flew up around the both of you, falling in hair and over soaked bodies. soobin lifted his head, looking down at you with a wide grin and amusement dancing in his half-open eyes, finding this situation rather thrilling. “you could have just asked me to get in, you know? I would have said yes my love, didn’t have to pull me in.” he teased, using his wet, ring clad finger to place bubbles on your nose, making you roll your eyes. “you know I didn’t do it on purpose. you look like you’d preferred that way.” you teased back, earning a deep hum of agreement as the man pressed his forehead gently against yours, staring intensely, but lovingly into your pretty eyes. 

“of course I do baby, I would fall with you or for you, anytime.” he responded lowly, breath gently fanning over your face, so gorgeous under the dim candlelight and the celestial shine pouring from the windows, the moon blessing him with such a piece of  art. goosebumps littered your skin from the scent of him, infused with his cool, minty breath and the heavy weight of his words spoken into the tenison lingering in the air, making your skin feel hot from more than just the heat of the water. 

soobin’s gaze dropped to your lips, plump and still covered with a faint coat of gloss. he wanted to taste them, meld his lips with them similar to how your bodies were. he wanted to slowly devour them, lick them, bite them, savour your flavor till he so addicted, that no food could feed his hunger for you. he wanted to run his hands all over you, feel every curve and imperfection, study it and memorize it. he wanted to become one with you, melt into you and become nothing but energy.

you could feel it too, the burning passion, the un-ignorable urge to tangle the strings of your hearts together so that neither of you could separate, so that your souls have no choice but to blend together and fill the room with an energy strong enough to burn the whole building down. the love he had for you, you could feel it strong now that you're here, in his arms. it’s tenfold, much deep than the words he had confessed, much louder for the whole world to hear. you feel it too, you felt it so deeply, so intensely, that your own feelings had no choice but to bubble up to the surface and overflow the tub. 

“may I?” he asked as his eyes found yours again, voice as gentle as his touch, and barely above a whisper. the sparkle in your eyes told him yes, and so did your body as you pulled him closer, but soobin was nothing if not a gentleman, so he’d want hours till you verbally said yes, to kiss you; you couldn’t put into words how that made you feel. “yes, please..” you murmured, and it was nothing you had to beg for, but he found you doing so incredibly endearing. it was slow the way he leaned in, though he was needy, he took his time getting to you, inch by inch. once his lips met yours, he had to pause to savor the feeling, his whole body tingling at the sensation.

they were smooth, delicate, the thickness of them comparable to a pillow and the wetness of the gloss making him feel like he was kissing silk. he could recite a million adjectives about your lips alone. when he started to move, it was gradual, lips wrapped around yours in a gentle bite, taking his time to taste you and commit the flavor to memory. soobin’s free hand came up to hold your face, thumb delicately caressing your skin as he pushed closer to you, as if needing to be as close as humanly possible to you. a low groan, body shuddering slightly the longer your lips and his danced with one another. the kiss started to increase in intensity in only a few minutes, going from slow and sweet, to something more needy, hungry. 

you devoured each other's lips with greed, needing more and more from each other with each passing moment. soobin couldn’t bother to hold back a single sound he made, and neither could you; the sounds of your mixed noises echoed around the bathroom, creating a lovely harmony that played well over the sounds of watering moving as your hands journeyed each other’s bodies eagerly.

 soobin’s hand found yours under the water, and with a gentle grip on your wrist, he pulled up. his lips left yours slowly, eyes sharing a moment of intense contact that sent a spark of electricity through your body; he turned his head away, bringing your hand to his lips and placing sweet kisses on the pulse point, trailing them up your wrist and into your palm, making butterflies flutter wildly in your chest and stomach. “mm, you're so gorgeous. I could never get enough of you.” he said in a low voice, his lips trailing back down to your wrist and descending your forearm until he reached the inside of your elbow. he slowly turned your arm, continuing to kiss up it and reaching your shoulder. “can’t get enough.” he repeated as he littered your shoulder with kisses, making your stomach tingle with every little press of his lips. 

soobin reached up to your face, hand cupping your cheek as he lifted your head slowly, proceeding to press his lips against your neck, earning little moans that made his heart thump harshly in his chest. he was making it his mission to cover every inch of your skin with his kisses. while he focused on his task, your hands were on their own mission, subtly undoing each button of his shirt, starting from the bottom and gradually reaching the top. as you opened his shirt, soobin shuddered, face flushing and mind reeling with the idea of being bare, under your loving gaze. “you're driving me crazy, baby.” he mumbled against the skin of your collarbone, goosebumps decorating his skin as your soft hands felt up his body, the heat of the water on his skin combined with the warmth of your hands making him rather feverish. 

“soobin..” you breathed out as the man lightly sucked on a spot just above the valley of your breast, tongue darting out to lap over the little mark he made. “can I take this off, my love?” he asked politely as his hand moved over the silk fabric of your robe, completely soaked now. you nodded slowly, breath hitching slightly as he slowly undid the ribbon around your waist, and watched with pure adoration as the robe fell apart in the water. good god, you were just so divine from your head to your toes, he might start crying. “what am I to do with all this beauty?” soobin whispered as he leaned in to kiss your lips once again, removing the pink garment from your form and throwing over the edge of the tub, paying no mind to the fact that it was dripping on the floor. he only cared about you right now. 

soobin moved back from you, water splashing on his stomach as he sat on his knees and took you in like he was staring at a geek sculpture of a goddess. he took his time: noting your hair that rested genty over your face, every detail of your pretty face, the way the water enveloped your heavenly body, hiding some parts but delicately accentuating others. the warm lights of the candles contoured some of your features, the moon only adding a more magical look to the image in front of him, making him feel as if he was experiencing some type of divine intervention, he just couldn’t believe that he was here with you right now. when his eyes finally found your’s again, he swore his heart plummeted into the tub, it seemed that he wasn’t the only one doing the admiring. something about that made him dizzy, knowing that you found him as attractive as he did you. 

the man’s ring clad hands came up to your knee, caressing the smooth skin of your leg as he moved his hand down to your ankle, yanking it slightly and moving between your legs, earning a gasp. “I want to make you feel good, can I?” he asked, voice filled with slight need as if it was more of a plea. his hand moved up under your knee as he leaned down, pressing kisses into the skin of your thigh, “can I, baby?” he repeated the question again, looking up with pleading eyes. 

“you can soobin.” you responded breathlessly, feeling yourself go a little more insane with each kiss he placed on your thighs, a shiver running up your spine as he smiled against your flesh, “thank you, my love.” he whispered, as you’d blessed him just by giving him permission. soobin placed one more kiss on the back of your thigh, sucking the plump skin slowly and leaving another mark, loving the way you reacted so well everytime he did it. he moved his hands up your thighs, taking a firm hold of your hips and chuckling at the way you squirmed slightly, obviously being a little ticklish. he’ll remember that for another time. the man hoisted you up out of the water, causing a huge splash of water as he placed you on the edge of the tub. he moved closer to you again, remaining on his knees as he looked upon you like you were the most out of this world being he’d ever seen, in his world you were. his glossy eyes moved over each part of your body, admiring with bated breath as his gaze made its way up to your pretty face.

“god your so fucking heavenly, baby.” he moaned, moving between your thighs and kissing all over the inner parts, squeezing your hips gently, eliciting a sharp inhale from you. soobin’s labored breaths filled the space between your thighs as he kissed your skin, sucking and licking, leaving marks that would remind you of his presence when he’s gone.

each moan soobin let out soon mixed with yours as his kisses turned open mouth; he was gaining pure pleasure from making you feel this good, body vibrating with nothing but bliss. his hands came down to the back of your knees, lifting your legs and placing them over his shoulders, gliding his tongue all the way up your inner thigh and straight to your cunt, pressing a sweet kiss on the heat and looking up to watch you let out the prettiest moan when he lapped his tongue over your folds, a grin forming on his lips. “that’s right baby, let out all those pretty noises, lemme hear you.” soobin encouraged as he continued running his tongue over your folds, ever so slowly, humming at the delicious taste of you. 

soobin was so confident in your love right now, drowning in it, in you and every sound you made, being egged on by the way your hand came to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his blonde hair and nails grazing against his scalp, sending tingles down his spine, pushing his face further into your heat. his glasses fogged up, from the heat from you combined with the heat of the water below him, keeping him from seeing anything, though he already had the image of you burned into his brain. 

you threw your head back, moaning out loud as he devoured you like he was starving, like you were his last meal. his tongue made a mess of your pussy, lips becoming shiny from your juices as his lips wrapped around you with ease. “oh my god, soobin..” you whispered, as if scared to be too loud, gripping his hair as he sucked on your clit. “louder sweet thing, tell me how you feel” he cooed, fingers lightly caressing your inner thighs as he sucked on your sensitive bud once more, earning a loud curse and a whine from you, which he chuckled at. he was literally driving you insane. 

soobin continued sucking and licking on your clit, moving one of your legs down from his shoulder so he could bring his hand towards your cunt, slowly sliding his middle finger inside and groaning at the tug you gave his hair when he did it. soobin looked over his glasses, taking in the pleasured expression on your pretty face and the way your plump lips fell open with each moan you gifted to his ears. “so pretty baby.” he complimented as he added his ring finger to your sopping cunt, slowly dragging his finger in and out in the most mind-numbing of ways. soobin released your clit from his mouth with a light pop of his lips, replacing them with his thumb, warm palm cupping your heat and pulling a drawn moan from you as he simulated your pussy with one hand. this man wasn’t real, you’ve decided that now. 

soobin came up to capture your lips in his, your leg still over his shoulder, creating a different angle that made you whine in his mouth. your head was spinning by this point, so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure one man was giving you without even trying; and maybe it was because it was soobin and all the love you had for this man was just enhancing everything he was doing, either way this had to be the best pleasure you’ve felt in awhile. “close your eyes, my love, let your body feel me.” soobin whispered, breath fanning over your ear and making the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. you listened, shutting your eyes and using your other senses to enjoy this moment. the man's fingers picked up pace, making your body feel like it was on fire from how good it felt. his cologne suddenly smelled a lot stronger, skin  hypersensitive to his sloppy kisses on your neck and his wandering hand, senses seeming to be on complete overdrive now that your eyes were closed, making the pleasure ten times better. 

“you feel me, baby.” he asked softly, smiling at your rapid nod as his hand found your breast, rubbing your nipple with his thumb. you reached out to grab his sides, squeezing slightly and digging the heel of your foot into his back, the stimulation he was giving you sending right to that sweet edge. “soobin, please don’t stop.” you pleaded as you felt him slow down, earning a soft coo from the man as he began to pull his hand away from your dripping cunt. 

“you know i’d love to listen to my love, but I wanna cum too.” he responded lovingly as he licked his fingers of your juices, chuckling at the way you bit your lip, at both his words and actions. “c’mere gorgeous.” he beckoned, wrapping your arms around his neck and grabbed your hips, pulling you back down into the water with him. 

soobin moved his head down to your breasts, kissing down the valley as he removed his shirt and discarded it somewhere on the bathroom floor, moving to deal with his pants. he shifted, capturing your nipple between his lips and swirling his tongue over the small bud, your breathes coming out as heavy huffs and stomach pooling with heat at the sound of him undoing his belt. the man wasn’t at all eager to get his pants off, solely focused on pleasing you more than himself, though just doing so was enough to get him off. soobin’s hand came up to your opposite nipple, gently rubbing and rolling it between his fingers while his mouth worked the other, pulling sweet moans out of you, ones that had soobin’s mind reeling.

soobin moved away from your breast, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he struggled to pull down his pants due to how wet they were; he was practically aching at this point, cock begging for the stimulation he’d denied himself this whole time. he would have definitely suffered through more aching if that meant satisfying you completely. “having trouble there, soobie?” you teased breathlessly, earning a grunt from the man and a deep huff, though his heart was doing cartwheels over the new nickname. you giggled at his reaction, watching in amusement as he was able to get his dress pants down his thighs, taking his boxers with it. normally, soobin would have given up halfway and already have relieved himself of such sexual burden, but he’d rather die with an aching dick than ever rush this moment with you. 

the man placed the rest of his clothes on the floor, before returning his attention to you, his forehead resting on yours as he gazed into your pretty eyes. “do you want to continue? we don’t have to if-” you cut him off by placing a finger on his lips, smiling fondly at his act of making sure that you were comfortable; you definitely wouldn’t have let him this far if you weren’t comfortable. “yes, I want to continue soobin.” you told him softly, and he nodded, hands finding your thighs and running up them slowly, fingers caressing at your sides. he leaned down to capture your lips with his once more, just as slow and sweetly as the first time, still so much passion in it after so long. he shifted his hips slightly, his length carefully sliding between your folds, both your moans melding together into one as your lips stayed glued together. 

soobin moved steadily, staying just like that, enjoying the feeling that made him shudder. he could cum just from this alone; from the kiss he shared with you, the warmth of the water surrounding both of you, from you and all this beauty, he could finish just from this moment, the burning passion and desire hazing in the air and enveloping both of you in a cloud of pure bliss. the thought of being inside of you was sending him into even more of a frenzy, because he just knew he’d get lost in you and lose his way back. soobin physically had to stop his hips from moving, trembling slightly as he dragged his cock back down your folds and teasing your entrances with his tip, your cunt threatening to suck him in, which was almost too much for him. 

 “give me….a second, baby” he breathed out as he pulled away from you, burying his face in your boobs as he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. he was losing it a bit. you watched him, shivering at the sensation of his breath passing through the space between your breasts. you lifted a hand to rest in his hair, soothingly petting it to assure soobin he wasn’t alone in needing a minute, your own breaths laboured from all the activity and tension. the blonde hummed, nuzzling his face in your soft breasts, “you're so good to me baby.” he mumbled, voice muffled by your flesh but audible. soobin moved his hips once more, gently pushing his length inside of you and groaning into you as your wet cunt just pulled him in, walls feeling like silk against his cock. 

“so good, oh baby.” he moaned out as he turned his head on your chest, shaky exhales leaving his lips as he moved in and out of you with ease due to the water combining with your slick. his cock twitched with each gorgeous moan you let out, goosebumps returning as your nails gazed against the skin of his back, hands squeezing at his sides and thighs pressing warmly against his hips. he was seriously going to lose his mind. 

everything about this was so right and it was dizzying for the both of you. your body's fit against each other like puzzle pieces, skin melded together, scents and breaths mixed almost intoxicatingly, voices harmonizing to fill the room with a haunting symphony.

your cunt took him in like he was always welcomed, walls hugging him warmly and cervix kissing his tip sweetly. even the environment around you two felt perfect: the water felt warm and velvety against your skin, bubbles and flower petals surrounding your bodies, the candles still brightly lit, cascading over the room and mixing it’s scents with  you and soobin’s, creating a wonderful aroma; even the moon was adding her presence to the scene, kissing you both with her celestial glow and letting you know this connect was divinely blessed. soobin already knew he was drowning in you, he knew from the moment he stepped through that door that he wasn’t going anywhere that wasn’t with you. 

“you must’ve been made for me, my love. I can’t see myself ever letting you go.” soobin whispered, continuing to slowly drag his cock inside of you, lips pressing against your upper arm and shudders racking through his body each time your fingers ran through his hair, nails lightly scratching his back as you soothingly rubbed his back. he was loving every second of this. 

water sloshed and splashed against your lower bodies with each slow, deep thrust, soobin’s body unable to resist shaking and your cunt fluttering around him, both of you overwhelmed by all the love and pleasure radiating off each other’s bodies and seeping into the other’s skin. “soobin.” you called out through a laboured moan, feeling yourself be beckoned closer to the edge, teetering on it. soobin lifted his head, looking up at you with nothing but love in his gaze, making your whole body overflow with emotions, heart pounding in your chest and breathing becoming heavier as his thumb rubbed oh so sweetly around your clit, all sensitive from all this stimulation. “I know baby, I know. let it happen.” he cooed as he increased his speed, only a little, going at a more moderate pace, moaning breathlessly as his hips bumped into yours gently. 

he was feeling it too, the peak of his high, threatening to crash down on him by each push of his hips. regardless, it would always be about pleasing you first, even if he was right behind you on that sweet edge. the splashing was prominent now, your mixed moans louder as the room’s volume increased with the sounds of your love reaching its highest point of energy. soobin pushed further, dangling you both off that tempting edge and just needing that final drop to send you over. his lips parted as your cunt squeezed him, tugging for more, his heart beating out of his chest at everything about you, especially those whines and sweet chants of his name.

“fuck, choi soobin.” you cursed out, shutting your eyes and digging your nails in his back, opposite hand pushing his head in your neck as your orgasm washed over you. that was all it took for him to do the same, his hand flying out to grab the edge of the tub and a drawn out moan spilling out of him as you milked him dry of all he’s got. 

this moment was like heaven, bodies melted together and heavy breaths coming together, unable to tell where who starts and the other ends. you attempted to speak up, but soobin quickly shushed you, his hand coming up to caress his face as he pressed delicate kisses on your skin. “not yet. let’s stay in this moment a little longer, let everything sink in.” he told you as his arm wrapped around your waist and he held you closer against him. 

“thank you, gorgeous, for everything.” he spoke lovingly in your ear, moving up to peck your lips continuously. “thank you for being with me, for blessing me with your presence.” he said between kisses, starting another love filled speech that already had you wanting to cry. “for loving me, caring for me, making me feel so high and grounding me at the same time.” his kisses kept going after each statement, even as he watched the tears fall from your pretty eyes once again, hours later.

“thank you for holding me down, my love.” he sealed his poem with one last slow kiss, as sweet and loving as all the rest, deep and drawn out enough to bring more tears of pure emotion. he placed his chin on your chest, using his thumbs to rid your face of the tears as he stared at you fondly, a huge dimpled smile on his face; he whispered a small I love you, without needing an answer, because he knew you did too, but what was always most important to him is that he made you feel the weight of his words, how much they meant to him, weather you reciprocated or not. that’s just the man soobin was.

"I'll take the time, treat you like a lady."

THANK YOU for tuning in! hope you enjoyed your dreamy package!

── ciao belle❀

©doomssoiree

[asoftgoth]

Did you even think hard about what you were doing when you started stuffing your greedy snout with all the delicious calories your stomach could handle?

I bet you never thought you'd become such a fatass. Outgrowing every outfit you own several times over, and still not satisfied that you're a fat enough pig yet. But once you started feeling yourself grow softer and curvier, it was just impossible for you to stop, wasn't it?

Now people remind you all day long what a gluttonous, fat mess you've let yourself become. No more restraint, no more self-control, just so much eating, followed by groping your growing plush figure, knowing there's so much more of you than there used to be. Not only that, but being reminded by *your own body* that you've grown so massive every time you have to heft your thickened thighs and overfed gut off of the couch to grab yet another snack. Feeling your fat ripple across your obese body with every movement only makes you more desperate to stuff yourself to the point where your tummy is too full to comfortably walk...

You're such a hopeless case... But I'm going to love watching you grow even bigger ;P

this is so hot im gonna fucking explode oh my godddd

[locsandletters]

ᯓ petals; l.colwill

──one shot

pairing ➜ bsf!levi x black!fem!reader

word count ➜ 1.4k

warnings/notes ➜ none

summary ➜ after you casually mention you've never gotten flowers before, levi makes it his mission to send a bouquet every day. he's a little extra like that.

it started out as a joke, really.

you were curled up on the couch, legs draped across levi’s lap, watching some cheesy romantic movie that he insisted he didn't like but somehow was way too invested in. you could see the way his brow furrowed slightly at the more dramatic scenes, how he'd sigh under his breath when the dialogue got too corny. but he didn't move. didn't suggest switching to something else. just sat there with you, his arm resting casually over your shins.

the movie was predictable, the kind where the girl gets swept off her feet by the guy who does all the grand gestures. serenades, dramatic confessions, and, of course, flowers. there's always flowers.

you weren't even really thinking when you said it. the words just slipped out, casual, almost absentminded. “i’ve never had anybody buy me flowers before."

levi had looked at you then, eyebrows raised. "what, ever?" he asked, as if the idea of someone never receiving flowers was absurd. which, to be fair, it probably was. but somehow, no one had ever thought to do it. not for you, anyway.

you shrugged, adjusting yourself on the couch. “i mean, it's not really a thing, is it? like, flowers are pretty, but they just die in a few days. seems kinda pointless."

he didn't say much in response, just nodded like he was thinking it over, and the conversation moved on. you didn't think about it again — at least not until the next morning.

you opened your front door, ready to step out for a coffee run, when you were greeted by a bouquet of lilies sitting on your doorstep. soft pinks and whites that were almost too pretty to touch, with a small card tucked into the stems. you picked it up, turning the envelope over in your hand before pulling out the card.

“you said you've never had flowers before. thought i'd fix that. - l"

you had smiled, shaking your head at his handwriting, a little messy, but undeniably his. you figured this was just levi being levi, being his usual thoughtful self, and so you set the flowers in a vase and went about your day. thinking maybe it was just a one-time thing.

it wasn't.

the next day, it happened again.

this time it was sunflowers. big, bold, unapologetically cheerful sunflowers that seemed to fill up the entire space when you opened the door. the same little card was attached, and you couldn't help but laugh at the message.

"they reminded me of you. bright and slightly dramatic. - l"

you rolled your eyes at the dramatic comment, though the grin on your face betrayed any mock annoyance you tried to muster. because, of course, levi couldn’t give a compliment without sneaking in a jab.

but it didnt stop there.

by wednesday, you were staring at the growing collection, wondering if this man had lost his damn mind. a new bouquet greeted you every morning without fail. roses, tulips, daisies—you name it, he sent it. your apartment was beginning to look like a florist's fever dream, and you were quickly running out of vases.

you'd tried texting him, something light and teasing, like, "okay, levi, you can stop now. i think the neighbours are starting to think i've won the flower lottery or some shit." but his reply was nothing but a string of white heart emojis and a "don't act like you're not loving it."

and the thing was—you were loving it. probably a little too much.

by thursday, your entire living room was flooded in soft pastel hues, the scent of fresh flowers lingering in the air. there were daisies scattered on your coffee table, a bouquet of orchids taking up space on your kitchen island, and you were pretty sure you saw a single rose — deep red, classic — perched on your nightstand, courtesy of a sneaky delivery you hadn't even noticed.

and the cards? they kept getting more random, more ridiculously sweet.

"because you said you like blue and i think that means i need to buy every blue flower in existence. - l"

"my baby cousin helped me pick these ones. - l"

"no reason today, just thought of you. - l"

by friday, you had to call him.

"when i said i've never had anybody buy me flowers before, i didn't mean for you to turn my apartment into a flower shop," you said the moment he picked up, no greeting, just the disbelief in your voice carrying through the phone.

you could hear the smile in his voice. "what, too much?"

you walked through your living room, surveying the sea of petals that seemed to grow by the day. "levi, i literally don't have space to sit down anymore. i'm drowning in flowers."

"that's an exaggeration." he chuckled, and even through the phone, the sound of it made your chest warm. "again, dramatic."

"no," you deadpanned, moving aside an empty vase you had abandoned by the door. "i’m being very literal right now."

he didn't answer for a second, and you could almost picture the grin on his face, the way he always seemed so pleased with himself whenever he did something ridiculous like this. "well, you said no one ever bought you flowers. figured id make up for lost time."

"you really didn't need to go this hard, though," you said, though the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to hide. "a single bouquet would've been fine."

"yeah, but where's the fun in that?" he asked. "besides, i wanted to see you smile."

and there it was. that thing he did. levi had a way of slipping under your skin, getting past your defenses before you even realised it. he could be so casual, so easygoing, and yet, he always found a way to say something that made you pause. made you feel.

because he wanted to make you smile. and that's what made it different. it wasn't about the flowers, or the grand gestures—it was the thought behind it. the way he listened, remembered, cared in these small, almost insignificant ways that added up until they felt overwhelming.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?" you said, voice softer now.

"i've been told," he replied, but his tone matched yours—there was something in the air between you two, something unspoken but undeniable. a shift.

the line went quiet for a beat, and you could feel the words you weren't saying hanging there, suspended in the space between you. because as much as you wanted to pretend this was all lighthearted and fun, you knew that wasn't the whole truth.

you weren't just falling for the flowers, for the sweet notes. you were falling for him. for the way he made you laugh at the smallest things, for the way he seemed to understand you in ways most people didn't. for the way he showed up—physically, emotionally, in all the ways that mattered.

you were falling for him, and as terrifying as that thought was, it was also inevitable.

"so," levi said finally, breaking the silence, "should i stop?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. "stop what?"

"sending flowers. i mean, i wouldn't want to overwhelm you or anything," he teased, but there was an edge of sincerity there, like he was testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you hesitated for a moment, thinking it over. but then you glanced around your apartment, at the vibrant bursts of colour that had turned your space into something out of a dream.

"no," you said softly. "don't stop."

"good," he replied, his voice warm and light, and you could hear the smile in his words again. "because i wasn't planning on stopping.”

you laughed, shaking your head. "of course you weren't."

but as you hung up the phone, your heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. because maybe this was more than just a silly gesture. maybe it was levi’s way of showing you something bigger, something you weren't ready to admit just yet, but were starting to understand.

because maybe you were falling for him.

and maybe—just maybe—he was falling for you too.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Hobie Brown things that're probably canon(because he's a 17 year old black punk autistic trans boy and Not A Middle Aged Man,You Are Just Stereotyping him)

Owns a Magic 8-Ball

Had his first kiss with Gwen while he was retwisting her locs and dying her hair pink for her that turned into a nonsexual makeout session

Really likes blue food of any kind but his favorites are gummy sharks,blue stuffed cookies and blue chocolate tea

Loves indie horror games and was introduced to them by Margo and she makes mods for them to play

Knows how to skateboard but was only taught to by Gwen and now him and the rest of the Spiderband go to interdimensional skateparks and customized his board to the max and helped them to too

Calls his mom Mama and boasts about how much he loves her

Listens to black queer rappers and black girl pop and has a crush on Brandy(because she reminds him of Miles.WHO SAID THAT)

Is super insecure about his apperance and intellegence because he was bullied all the time for being darkskin black and audhd with no masking game and needs direct verbal ressaurance to know he's romantically appealing or he gets sad and pulls back any genuine flirting attempts

(But also Margo,Gwen,Pavitr,Gayatri and Miles all fell for him on first meeting based on how capable he is and fell harder when they saw his face to the point they couldn't even think straight.They thought bisexually though)

Collects stickers,pins,rocks,seashells and other knick knacks

Was the one to diy his own testosterone but Mama Brown insisted he got to a professional doctor who's a family friend for his top surgery and he asked for anchor

Goes to mosh pits and refuses to leave until he beats up at least two douchebags to show them they're not welcome at any punk scenes

Freaked out in a good way when he found out about Battery Acid and tamagotchis

Wants to make his own stop motion movie one day with an all afropunk character cast

Read the Pjo books and related to Percy Jackson more than he has or ever will any other character(Gwen once again showed this thing to him and Percy is canonically black-dominican in the 65 editions)

Unironically wears silly bands and heart pendant chokers

Watches The Boondocks and quotes it to fw nonblack Spiderpeople

Interested in solarpunk and appreciates it even if it's not his particular punk lifestyle and participates in a few parts of it for fun and as an excuse to hang with Miles and Gayatri

Takes Spidermutt out on walks at 7 a.m and then at 11 p.m too

Moves around so much nonstop onscreen and can't stay still as stimming

Used to be a dreadhead but grew his dreads into wicks as black self-love and to emulate his Mama who has them too

Uses 'Babygirl' in the aave way and not the weird fandom white gay way

[thefvrious]

damon hums a little as he cooks the food, finishing it up all while tate is still behind him, watching. damon is so caught up in his own little world that he hardly notices how much time has gone by without tate saying or doing anything. he removes the sauce and gnocchi from the heat and is about to turn around when the other man is upon him, as if being beckoned from damon's very thoughts. damon grins, both hands down on the arms that are around him, and he listens, swaying a little, entranced by the charismatic man holding him.

"wow, you haven't even tried my food yet, and you're already trying to give me the job. it must smell and look really good." he teases, knowing there's more to it than that, that intrinsic pull. he breathes in deeply, turns to face tate, to lean in and kiss him earnestly, letting those hands wander his body. "the self-deprecating side of me wants to make a quip about you waiting to find out how you really feel about me, but the logical side reminds me we've been friends for a while... and the delusional part of me wants to do whatever you want because i'm... enamored."

with his job of chopping officially finished, tate isn't sure what he's meant to do now, though he doesn't rush to ask for another task, instead enjoying the simple act of watching as damon cooks, watching the way he moves, confidence and grace clear in how he does what he does, and tate is enamored all over again. he doesn't move from where he rests against the counter for a bit, arms folded, just staring, but eventually, when he can't quite take it anymore, he wanders over and wraps both arms around the other man from behind, pressing a string of soft kisses against his neck.

"you know, if you ever want to just quit working, become an adorable house boyfriend, look this cute all the time and cook and all that, i'm more than happy to foot the bill for that." fingers roam, tugging at damon's shirt to disappear up into it, dancing delicately across skin. "i'm very, very on board with the idea. what do you think?"

[holeodemony]

TMA has influenced my life more than I'd like to admit.

I carry around a tape recorder at all times.

I correlate every single thing with the fears.

I have a fashion sense sense which is literally a strange mix of Elias, Jon, Martin, and Gerry.

There's just so much of me that has become due to the archives.

It's wonderful and terrifying... which is appropriate when considering this topic.

[fallowtail]

controversial take here but i really hope hetty is on her absolute worst nastygirl/comedic clown behavior in s4 to push back against the poor little meow meow woobification curse shes been experiencing since holes because i am tired

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[shannonsketches]

he's so important to me

[peapodsplace]

Hey Baba, it seems like you've been seeing a lot of yucky stuff online right now. A lot of people who aren't remembering their manners and are forgetting that there's people behind a screen. I know you like your screen time but please remember that the world isn't all like that okay? Some people are different online and forget their values and let's remember that these days, algorithms perpously show you things that'll make you upset. Yes, yes it's not very fair, is it sweetheart. Please remember to take some breaks and that the world isn't really like that. It's so important to protect yourself. Yes, silly even if you think you don't deserve it; because you do.