#I don’t even know what to say except I love you

[kateschi]

the first lean

synopsis: shoto faces his fears as he holds your daughter for the first time.

pairing: timeskip!todoroki shoto x f!reader

the hospital room is silent, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights and the occasional shuffle of feet in the hallway.

you lie back on the bed, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but your gaze stays fixed on shoto.

he sits in the chair beside you, his hands on his knees, his posture tense.

his expression is unreadable, but you can see the hesitation in the way his fingers flex, the faint furrow in his brows.

the bassinet sits just a few steps away, the faintest of movements stirring from within it.

the nurse approaches, a bundle of soft fabric cradled in her arms. “are you ready to hold your daughter?” she asks, her voice gentle.

shoto doesn’t answer right away. his eyes flicker to you, then to the tiny bundle in the nurse’s arms.

“I…I don’t know if I should,” he says finally, his voice low. “what if I hurt her?”

your heart aches at the vulnerability in his words, and you reach out, your hand brushing his arm. “shoto,” you say softly, “you won’t. she’s safe with you.”

he hesitates, his jaw tightening, but eventually, he nods. the nurse steps closer, carefully transferring your baby into his arms.

shoto’s hands tremble slightly as he takes her, cradling her against his chest. for a moment, he just stares, his expression shifting as he takes her in.

she’s tiny, her cheeks round and soft, her little hands peeking out from the swaddle. shoto’s breath catches as she stirs, her face scrunching slightly before relaxing again.

“she’s…chubbier than I expected,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “like those old pictures my mom kept of me.”

a small laugh escapes you, though your voice is tired. “she takes after you, then.”

his lips twitch in a faint smile, but his focus doesn’t waver. he adjusts his hold slightly, his movements careful and deliberate, as if she might shatter with too much force.

your little girl shifts again, her head turning just slightly until her cheek rests against his chest. when she leans into him, her tiny hand brushing the fabric of his shirt, shoto freezes.

the room feels impossibly still as his expression crumbles.

his eyes glisten, tears slipping down his cheeks silently as he stares at her. “she knows me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “she leaned towards me.”

you watch him, your throat tightening at the sight. “of course she does,” you say gently.

shoto doesn’t respond immediately. his gaze remains locked on the tiny face nestled against his chest, his tears slipping silently onto his cheeks.

“I didn’t think…” he starts, then pauses, swallowing hard. his grip on her adjusts, his thumb brushing lightly against her swaddle. “I didn’t think I’d feel like this. like nothing else matters except her.”

your heart swells at his words.

even in his hesitance, in the fear he doesn’t know how to hide, you see the depth of his love. “that’s because she’s your world now,” you murmur. “our world.”

finally, he looks at you, his eyes shining, though his expression is soft. “you’ve been my world for a long time,” he says, his voice barely audible. “she’s just…an extension of that.”

your brows lift at his words, and you give him a faint smirk despite the tiredness weighing you down.

“getting a bit poetic on me, huh? must be all those sleepless nights coming up with baby names.”

shoto lets out a breath that might almost be a laugh, though his focus stays on your baby.

“you’re the one who vetoed all my suggestions,” he murmurs, carefully brushing the soft blanket back to get a better look at her tiny face.

“because you wanted to name her after food,” you retort, a little laugh escaping you. “we’re not naming our kid mochi, shoto.”

“she does look a little like one,” he muses, his lips twitching into a rare, lopsided smile.

you can’t argue with that. her round cheeks and delicate features are undeniably adorable, her resemblance to a sweet dumpling undeniable—though that might just be the exhaustion talking.

still, you find yourself relaxing in the warmth of the moment.

shoto’s eyes shift to you after a beat, his expression softening. he leans forward slightly, adjusting her in his arms as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, the words so quiet they almost don’t reach you.

your smile falters. “sorry? for what?”

“for the pain,” he says, his lips brushing your skin again as he pulls back. “for what you went through to bring her into the world. I…I hate that I couldn’t do anything.”

the vulnerability in his voice tugs at you, and you lift a hand to rest it against his cheek. “shoto,” you say softly, “you were here. that’s everything I needed. and look at her—she’s worth all of it.”

his jaw tightens, his mismatched eyes darting back to her. she stirs again, a tiny hand poking out from the swaddle, and he immediately adjusts his hold, his movements so careful it’s almost comical.

“still,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I could watch you go through that again.”

a surprised laugh escapes you, though it’s weak from exhaustion. “what are you saying? no more kids?”

he looks at you seriously, his lips pressing into a firm line. “I’m saying,” he begins slowly, “that I can’t see you in pain like that again. one baby is enough.”

you roll your eyes, though the tenderness in his words makes your chest ache. “you’re being dramatic.”

“maybe,” he admits, his lips twitching in that familiar, understated smile. “but I mean it. she’s enough for me.”

your laugh is softer this time, more of a breath than a sound. “let’s see how you feel when she starts asking for a sibling,” you tease, though you know his resolve runs deeper than he’s letting on.

she shifts in his arms then, letting out a tiny noise that could almost be a sigh.

both of you freeze, staring at her in wonder as she settles again, her little fingers curling against shoto’s shirt.

you meet his eyes, feeling a warmth that goes beyond the exhaustion and the ache in your body. this is shoto, in his quiet, steady love, holding both your worlds in his arms.

you lean against the pillow, letting your eyes drift closed, secure in the knowledge that this moment—this new chapter—belongs to all three of you.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[elryuse]

ANTHEM pt.3

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOLS X MALE READER

TAGS : MULTIPLE FEMALE LOVE INTEREST, HAREM, KISSING

WORDS : 3,981 Words

This is Part 3 of The Anthem Series. For The Other Anthem Series, Please Kindly Check over Here.

Y/n stretched lazily in his bed, the cold morning air nipping at his exposed skin. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater struggling to keep up with the winter chill. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, turning his head slightly to find Wonyoung nestled close beside him, her face peaceful and serene. She was wearing her signature oversized black t-shirt, the fabric pooling around her delicate frame. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, catching the faint light streaming through the curtains.

She looks like a princess, Y/n thought, his heart softening as he watched her. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew they couldn’t stay like this forever. Carefully, he shifted the blanket that covered them both, lifting it slowly so as not to wake her.

But Wonyoung stirred almost immediately, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at him, her lips forming a pout before she even fully registered what was happening. “Why are you leaving me?” she complained, her voice thick with sleep but tinged with mock indignation.

Y/n chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Good morning to you too,” he said, earning a small groan from her as she swatted his hand away half-heartedly.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” she grumbled, though her pout softened into a smile. She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. Y/n’s eyes lingered a moment too long, and when Wonyoung caught him staring, her grin turned mischievous.

“What’s wrong, oppa? Never seen a girl wake up before?” she teased, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice was light, playful, but there was something underneath it—something that made Y/n’s stomach tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “You should head back to your room. Yujin’s probably wondering where you are.”

Wonyoung shook her head, her expression stubborn. “No. I like it here. Your bed is warmer than mine.” She scooted closer to him, her body heat radiating against his side. “And you’re warmer too,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wonyoung, you know we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, tilting her head innocently. “It’s not like anyone will notice. Everyone’s still asleep.”

Yeji’s probably already awake, Y/n thought but didn’t say. He didn’t want to argue with her, especially not when she was looking at him like that—her big doe eyes filled with a mix of innocence and something far more dangerous.

“Fine,” he conceded, leaning back against the pillows. “But only for a little while.”

Wonyoung smiled triumphantly, settling back down beside him. She tucked her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. For a moment, they lay there in silence, the rhythm of their breathing syncing naturally. But then Wonyoung shifted slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest through his thin t-shirt.

“Oppa,” she murmured after a while, her voice barely audible. “Do you ever think about… us?”

Y/n froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Us?” he repeated, his voice cautious.

Wonyoung pulled back slightly to look at him, her expression serious now. “Yeah. You know… how we spend so much time together. How I always end up in your bed. Don’t you think that means something?”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Y/n opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Wonyoung leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “I think you like having me here,” she whispered, her breath sending shivers down his spine. “Maybe even more than you want to admit.”

Y/n swallowed hard, his mind racing. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was just imagining things. But the truth was, he did like having her there. More than he should. And the way she was looking at him now, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite name, made it impossible to think clearly.

“Wonyoung…” he began, but she cut him off again, this time by pressing her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. His brain short-circuited, his hands moving instinctively to her waist as he kissed her back. It was brief, chaste even, but it left his heart pounding.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was triumphant. “See?” she said, her voice smug. “You do like me.”

Y/n groaned, running a hand over his face. “This is such a bad idea,” he muttered, though he made no move to push her away.

Wonyoung giggled, her fingers trailing down his arm. “Since when have we ever had good ideas?” she countered, her tone light but her gaze intense. “Besides, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not even Yujin.”

The mention of Yujin made Y/n’s stomach twist. He knew he was playing with fire, but the way Wonyoung was looking at him—like he was the only thing that mattered—made it impossible to care.

Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss her again.

This time, there was nothing soft or tentative about it. Wonyoung responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Y/n’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Every rational thought fled his mind, replaced by the overwhelming need to touch her, to feel her, to lose himself in her.

Their kisses grew more desperate, more urgent, until Wonyoung finally pulled back, panting slightly. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen and glistening. “Oppa,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his resolve crumbling completely. He didn’t speak, didn’t trust himself to form coherent thoughts anymore. Instead, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as his hands roamed lower, exploring every inch of her soft, warm skin.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into his touch. “Y/n,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice breaking on his name. “Please…”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a low growl, he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him as his kisses trailed down her neck to the collar of her oversized shirt. Wonyoung let out a soft moan, her nails digging into his shoulders as he tugged the fabric aside, exposing more of her bare skin.

But just as his lips brushed against her collarbone, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment. They froze, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Y/n?” Yujin’s voice called from the other side of the door, sounding way too cheerful for the situation. “Are you awake? We need to talk about practice today!”

Y/n swore under his breath, pulling away from Wonyoung reluctantly. “One second!” he called back, his voice strained.

Wonyoung bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh as she sat up, fixing her shirt. “Well, that’s unfortunate timing,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n shot her a glare, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the flush staining his cheeks. “You need to hide,” he hissed, gesturing toward the closet.

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but complied, slipping out of bed and padding silently across the room. She paused at the closet door, glancing back at him with a smirk. “We’re not done, oppa,” she said softly before disappearing inside.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before opening the door. Yujin stood there, grinning broadly, completely oblivious to what she’d just interrupted.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped, stepping past him into the room. “I brought coffee. Thought you might need it after last night.”

As she set the tray down on his desk, Y/n glanced nervously at the closet, wondering how long Wonyoung would be able to stay hidden—and what fresh chaos was waiting to unfold.

Yujin’s cheerful expression faltered as she stepped further into the room, her nose wrinkling slightly. She tilted her head, sniffing the air like a curious kitten. “Hmm… what’s that smell?” she mused, her voice light but carrying an edge of suspicion. Her gaze flicked around the room before landing on Y/n, who was standing stiffly by the door, trying to act natural.

“What smell?” Y/n asked, his voice a little too high-pitched. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms casually over his chest, though his heart was pounding. She couldn’t possibly know, he thought, even as beads of sweat threatened to form at his temples.

Yujin wandered closer to him, her eyes narrowing playfully but with a hint of something sharper beneath the surface. She leaned in, sniffing dramatically near his shoulder. “It smells like… Wonyoung’s perfume. The one she always wears.” She straightened up, hands on her hips, and fixed him with a knowing look. “Strawberries and vanilla. Very distinctive.”

Y/n froze, his mind racing for an excuse. Think, think, think. Before he could respond, the closet door creaked ever so slightly, drawing Yujin’s attention. Her head snapped toward it, and she took a step forward. “Is someone in there?” she asked, her tone shifting from playful to accusatory.

“No!” Y/n said quickly, stepping between her and the closet. “I mean… probably just the wind or something. Old building, you know? Drafty.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Sweat was definitely forming now.

Yujin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she studied him. “Y/n-oppa,” she began, her voice sweet but laced with mischief, “are you hiding something from me?”

Before he could answer, the closet door burst open, and Wonyoung stepped out, her hair slightly disheveled but her expression defiant. “Yes, he is,” she declared, folding her arms over her chest. “And before you get all worked up, Yujin-unnie, it’s not what you think.”

Yujin’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she looked between Wonyoung and Y/n. “Excuse me? Not what I think?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You were in his closet, smelling like his bedsheets, and—”

“Enough!” Y/n interrupted, raising both hands to silence them. His voice carried a firmness that surprised even himself, and both girls stopped mid-sentence, staring at him. He took a deep breath, lowering his voice. “Look, this isn’t helping anyone. We’re a team, right? So let’s not turn this into some dramatic scene.”

Wonyoung pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she glanced at Yujin. “She started it,” she muttered under her breath.

Yujin scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I started it? You’re the one who—”

“Stop,” Y/n said again, softer this time but no less commanding. He stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Listen. I… I care about both of you. A lot. And if we’re going to make this work, we need to be honest with each other. No secrets, no jealousy. Just… trust.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing. Then, Yujin let out a small huff, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Fine,” she said, though her eyes still flashed with a hint of challenge. “But you owe me coffee after this.”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but nodded. “And me too,” she added, smirking at Y/n. “Maybe even breakfast.”

Y/n let out a relieved laugh, feeling some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Deal,” he said, grinning despite himself. If only it could always be this easy, he thought, though he knew better than to hope for smooth sailing.

Later that afternoon, the group gathered in the practice room for another grueling session. Winter had been unusually quiet throughout the day, her sharp eyes watching Y/n with an intensity that made him uneasy. She sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone, but every so often, her gaze would flicker up to meet his, holding it for just a second too long before she looked away.

Karina clapped her hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, let’s run through the choreography one more time. Focus on the transitions—they’re still a bit messy.”

The music started, and Y/n threw himself into the routine, trying to ignore the way Winter’s eyes seemed to burn into his back. By the time they finished, his muscles were screaming in protest, and his shirt clung to his skin with sweat. He collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall as he caught his breath.

Just as he closed his eyes, he felt a presence beside him. He opened them to find Wonyoung crouching down, her face glowing with exertion but her smile bright. “Oppa,” she said, her voice soft, “will you come shopping with me later? I need to pick up some clothes for everyone, and I could use your opinion.”

Y/n hesitated, glancing around the room. Karina was deep in conversation with Chaewon, and Yujin was stretching nearby, her eyes darting toward them periodically. Winter was still watching him, her expression unreadable. “Sure,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Let me just clean up first.”

As he stood, he caught Yujin’s eye. She gave him a small nod, though her lips were pressed into a thin line. He could tell she wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t say anything. One problem at a time, he told himself.

An hour later, Y/n found himself in Wonyoung’s room, sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed as she rummaged through her closet. “So, what do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a vibrant pink dress that shimmered under the light.

“It’s… um, nice,” Y/n said, unsure of how else to respond. “Very… eye-catching.”

Wonyoung giggled, setting the dress aside and turning to face him. Her expression softened, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re really cute when you’re nervous,” she said, taking a step closer.

Before he could react, she was straddling him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his. Y/n’s brain short-circuited, his body instinctively responding as her tongue slipped into his mouth. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as she deepened the kiss, her nails digging into his skin.

“W-Wonyoung,” he gasped when she broke away to trail kisses down his neck, her teeth grazing his collarbone. “We shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it aside. His breath hitched as she ran her fingers over his chest, her touch sending sparks through his body. She leaned down, nipping at his skin before licking away the sting, her movements deliberate and slow.

“Wonyoung,” he moaned, his hands gripping her waist as she shifted above him. She smirked, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor before grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare skin. “Touch me,” she breathed, grinding against him.

He obeyed, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. She let out a breathy sigh, arching into his touch as she rolled her hips against his growing hardness. “You’re mine right now,” she murmured, her voice dripping with possessiveness as she leaned down to claim his lips once more.

Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants, yanking them down along with his boxers. She pulled back just enough to kick off her own shorts and panties, her eyes dark with hunger as she positioned herself above him. “Ready?” she teased, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Y/n nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she lowered herself onto him, her tight warmth engulfing him completely. She let out a low moan, her nails raking down his chest as she began to move, her pace slow and deliberate at first, then increasingly frantic. Her head fell back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she rode him, her cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

“Faster,” she begged, her voice breaking as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. Y/n obliged, thrusting upward to meet her movements, their rhythm falling into sync as the heat between them built to a fever pitch. Wonyoung’s moans grew louder, more desperate, until she shuddered above him, her body tightening as waves of pleasure overtook her.

Y/n followed soon after, his release spilling inside her as she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they lay there, tangled together and soaked in sweat, the world outside forgotten.

“Well,” Wonyoung said after a while, her voice teasing as she propped herself up to look at him, “that was fun.”

Y/n blinked up at her, his mind still reeling. “Yeah,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “Fun.”

Wonyoung’s lips curved into a sly smile as she leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. “You think we’re done?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mischief. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. “I’m just getting started.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, Wonyoung shifted her weight, straddling him again. Her hands slid down his torso, nails lightly scratching his skin, and he hissed at the sensation. She laughed softly, her voice low and sultry. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Y/n. I thought you had more stamina than this.”

His body tensed under her teasing, a mix of exhaustion and desire warring within him. But the way she looked at him—her dark eyes glinting with playful challenge—was enough to reignite the fire in his veins. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair, and pulled her closer until their lips were almost touching. “Careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Wonyoung smirked, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she purred before capturing his mouth in another deep kiss. Her hips rolled against his, and he groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist tightly. The heat between them was undeniable, their bodies moving together with a rhythm that felt both natural and desperate.

Their second round was slower but no less intense, each touch and movement deliberate. Wonyoung’s moans were softer now, more intimate, as if she was savoring every moment. Y/n’s hands explored every inch of her, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and yet not enough. They clung to each other, chasing the high of their connection, unwilling to let go.

When they finally collapsed onto the bed, breathless and sweaty, Wonyoung let out a contented sigh. “Okay,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

Y/n chuckled, though it came out more like a groan. “Glad to hear it.”

They lay there for a while, catching their breath, until Wonyoung sat up, stretching languidly. “We should probably get dressed,” she said, glancing around the room. “Before someone else decides to barge in unannounced.”

Y/n nodded, reluctantly sitting up as well. They gathered their clothes, the air between them still charged with the remnants of what had just happened. As they dressed, Wonyoung shot him a mischievous grin. “Just so you know, this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop teasing you.”

He raised an eyebrow, half amused, half wary. “Noted.”

By the time they emerged from her room, the rest of the group was bustling about, preparing for the day ahead. Karina was the first to notice them, her sharp eyes flickering between Y/n and Wonyoung as they approached. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, instead offering a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Thanks for helping Wonyoung with… whatever it was you two were doing,” Winter chimed in, her tone light but her gaze piercing. She stepped closer to Y/n, her hand brushing against his cheek in a gesture that felt far too familiar. “You’re always so… accommodating.”

Y/n stiffened, acutely aware of Karina watching them. But before he could respond, Wonyoung cut in, her voice sweet but laced with subtle warning. “Isn’t he just? We’re lucky to have him.”

Winter smirked, clearly enjoying the tension she was creating. “Indeed.”

The conversation shifted to mundane topics after that, but the underlying unease lingered. Y/n felt Karina’s eyes on him throughout, her gaze soft yet tinged with something deeper—something he couldn’t quite place. When she finally approached him, her touch was tentative as she took his arm, her fingers gently caressing his bicep.

“Thank you, Y/n,” she said quietly, her voice filled with warmth. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. “For everything.”

Her words were simple, but the emotion behind them was anything but. Y/n’s heart ached with guilt and longing, but he forced himself to smile. “Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”

Karina hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but then she seemed to catch herself. She coughed lightly, stepping back and breaking the spell. “Right. Well, we should all get ready. There’s still a lot to do today.”

The others nodded, exchanging glances that hinted at things left unsaid. Winter lingered for a moment longer, her fingers trailing along Y/n’s jawline before she finally turned away. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder, her tone dripping with promise.

As the group dispersed, Y/n exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of their collective attention pressing down on him. He needed a moment to breathe, to clear his head. A shower sounded perfect—just the thing to wash away the sweat and tension clinging to his skin.

He made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as soon as the door closed behind him. The water was hot, almost scalding, but it felt good against his skin. He stood under the spray, letting it wash away the lingering echoes of the morning’s events.

But just as he began to relax, he heard it—a soft, melodic humming coming from outside the bathroom door. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. “Hello?” he called out, his voice hesitant.

The humming stopped, replaced by the sound of the doorknob turning. Before he could react, the door swung open, and Yujin stepped inside, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of him—dripping wet, bare-chested, and very much naked from the waist down aside from the hastily wrapped towel.

“Y/n?!” she squeaked, her face turning bright red as she immediately spun around, covering her eyes with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—”

Y/n froze, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. “Yujin, wait—”

But she was already backing out of the bathroom, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to escape. “I-I’ll just—uh—”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Y/n standing there, stunned and utterly exposed. He stared at the closed door, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of the situation sank in. This was not how he expected his day to go.

From the other side of the door, he could hear Yujin’s muffled voice, though her words were too faint to make out. Y/n groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. What was he supposed to do now?

The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, until Y/n finally mustered the courage to call out, “Yujin?”

There was no response. He waited a few moments, then sighed. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was apologizing to—her or himself.

[darlinluxx]

𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

request from : @erika-mon2-blog “Hi sweetie! I saw that you were accepting requests for Saebyeok, and I would love to ask you for one. I recently came across your profile and I'm in love with it! I'd love something along the lines of a sweet and clingy *reader* and a cold and unaffected Saebyeok; I know it's not a specific request, but I just want to see Saebyeok fighting against his cold attitude to please his favorite person. 😭🩷”

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : none

summary : you and saebyeok are complete opposites. i guess it’s true what they say : opposites attract

a/n : thank u sm <33 i literally just finished this fic as you sent me this lmao perfect timing !!

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he chipped paint of your apartment wall is the same shade as the chipped paint of the subway station Saebyeok seems to gravitate towards. except here, in your little corner of Seoul, there’s a soft blanket draped over the worn couch, the aroma of jasmine tea lingering in the air, and the sunlight spills in, warm and inviting. the subway station? it’s cold, concrete, and constantly echoing with the anxieties of the city.

you hum softly, arranging the hydrangeas in a vase until they’re just so — a perfect, delicate dance of blue and purple. Saebyeok, on the other hand, isn’t about delicate dances. she’s more cold and quiet storms. and yet, somehow, you’ve found yourselves woven together.

you hear her before you see her. the jingle of the keys she pulls from her pocket, a small, almost involuntary noise that always makes your heart flutter. she’s in the doorway, silhouette framed against the hallway light, a stark contrast to the soft glow of your living room.

“hey.” she says, her voice low and a little rough, like gravel being shifted beneath the tide. she doesn’t look at you directly, her gaze fixed on the floor, her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her dark green jacket. it’s a gesture you’ve come to know well: the guarded posture of someone who’s used to fending for themselves.

“hi,” you say, your smile immediate and genuine. you leave the hydrangeas, walking over to her and pulling her in for a hug. your hands brush against the cold fabric of her jacket, a reminder of the world she moves through — a world so different from the one you curate within these four walls.

she stiffens for a moment, unused to the physical expression of affection, before relaxing, her breath ghosting against your neck. it’s a small victory, something you treasure.

“anything good happen today?” you ask, your voice light even though you suspect the answer might be in the negative. you know about the struggles; the constant search for her family, the need to survive. but you believe in offering her a soft place to land.

Saebyeok shrugs, a slight lift of her shoulders. “the same.” she says, which could mean anything, or nothing at all. you don’t press her. you know she’ll tell you when she’s ready, in her own time, in her own way.

instead, you lead her to the couch, tucking a soft blanket around her shoulders. you bring her the tea, the steam swirling around your face, a faint wisp of comfort in the stillness of the room.

“how was your day?” she asks, her eyes finally lifting to meet yours. you told her about your day. Saebyeok listens, her gaze intense as if she’s trying to decipher a complex puzzle. you suspect it is that for her; all the vibrant color, the soft petals, the open displays of merriment — it’s a foreign landscape.

she doesn’t comment much, but you can feel her presence, hear the subtle shift in her body as she adjusts on the couch, moving closer to you. in her quiet way, she’s here, present, with you.

later, as you’re both curled up on the couch, a book of poetry open in your lap, you lean against Saebyeok, your head resting on her shoulder. she runs her fingers through your hair, a habit she’s developed, a small gesture of intimacy.

you, with your bright colors and gentle nature, and Saebyeok, with her shadows and guarded heart, are an unlikely pair. but here, in this small apartment surrounded by soft light and the scent of jasmine, you understand why this works. you are her anchor, the bright spot in her storm. and she, well, she is the grounding force that keeps you from floating too far away, reminding you that there’s a strength in silence, in resilience, in surviving even the harshest of storms. and in this quiet intimacy, you know, with absolute certainty, that this love, two different worlds colliding, is exactly what you both need.

[hyukascampfire]

U JUMPED UP N CLICKED YOUR HEELS WHEN I FOLLOWED, I JUMPED UP AND CLICKED MY HEELS WHEN I SAW THIS REBLOG. omg.

hehe. world building is my favorite part. especially since my fics lean toward fantasy,, i always try to make it all immersive and believable!!

literally was not aware there was even a plural for geas, i had to dance around it while writing. why didn’t i think to look that up…😓 ANYWAY YES taehyun is definitely gravitational right off the bat. for me, at least. he is stiff and cold, but i don’t think that he necessarily falls into the typical fantasy brooding mmc category. especially after part two, i think his character begins to develop those layers that makes him who he is. i can’t say that he’s not brooding or cold, but i think it comes from a different place. i absolutely agree that he really does embody cold. not going to lie, after working on his character for so long, he’s the first thing i associate with him.

AND YES yeonjun as warmth by sunlight is so correct. he’s not necessarily flames, but more like sunlight on your skin after being cold for so long. he’s so gentle with MC in a way that she hasn’t known,, i’d be the same girl. IM SO HAPPY TO SEE SOMEONE ROOTING FOR YEONJUN JUST A LITTLE BIT. not because i’m biased,, cause of course i have two hands,, BUT ITS JUST BEEN SO LONG. this nation is gripped by taehyun. he always destroys yeonjun in the polls 😭

W yeonjun, writing him came so easy. i still vividly remember the moment i wrote the introduction to his character. omg. he just had a personality that STICKJKJS with you. he is magnetic, and i lowkey feel whimsy even while writing him. he’s just so sensual and intimate on so many different levels. i’d probably give up my mf life for him too.

i also really do adore MC. she’s very multi-faceted. she’s not necessarily always strong or upright, but she has her own set of morals and honestly just wants so little. it kinda sucks that what she does finally allow herself to ask for puts her in the situations it does. i feel a great amount of sympathy for her. i also am a person that thinks that emotion and being in touch with it is strong in its own right, and i absolutely get MC for searching for it.

SLOW BURNNN that’s my shit. waiter, pls give me yearning and fleeting touch for a hundred thousand more words! im not stranger to a 5k pwp and i thoroughly enjoy writing those (yum.) but i truly do love the word ‘almost’, and letting characters ache for each other. mmm. i’m a hoe for jealousy, but with taehyun it is especially different. i just do not know how to put it into words except for 😻💦🤲

the people love beomgyu, that silly forest creature. i’ve grown so attached to his character as well. he really is holding up the found family end of this fic all on his own. his power 😭

thank you so much for giving me this beautiful rb to read and giggle over as well. i adore you so much NEXT PART NEXT PART 🍽️

𝓘N WHICH 〃 a life lived as a human among the fae is one hard-earned. the folk are built of indescribable beauty, and of debauchery and mischief. for some, a life lived subservient to the folk is just fine; but to those who dream of something more, they would spend their lives clawing and biting to make it happen.

you, looking for a way to escape a life as a faerie’s human servant, put a new foot forward thinking that any life could be better than that. but, when your first assignment as a king’s spy is alongside a brooding, icy faerie man, you begin to wonder what your place in this foreign world really could be.

wc ➳ 93.3k﹙ and counting! ﹚

genre high fantasy/faerie, smut, angst ˒ ˒

pairings faerie!taehyun x reader, faerie!yeonjun x reader

warnings violence, death, death of animals, smut (specific tags will be listed before each chapter), childhood trauma & mentions of abuse, jealousy, controlling & yandere relationship dynamics, unprotected sex, original characters but they only last for small amounts of time & act as story catalysts, fem! reader

˒ ˒ want a look into the world? here’s the pinterest board !! ༘⋆

﹙ 🪕﹚ playlists ⑊ yeonjun ˒ taehyun ˒ series

: ̗̀﹙❆﹚𝓅arts . : ↘︎

one ˒ two ˒ three ˒ four ˒ five ˒ ...🪶

© hyukascampfire please do not steal, plagiarize, or repost any of my works.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: Anakin Skywalker x f!reader

FLUFF

ANAKIN SKYWALKER’s lips twitched into a frown as his feet made another contact with the crispy sand while he walked like a penguin along the shoreline. Was it hard to take him to the beach considering his hatred to the coarse silt? Yup. Yet, he seemed more fascinated by the beauty of the beach than he cared to admit. The salty breeze ruffled his dark curls to the side as he finally made a long step to the water, scrimping on making even more steps against the sand

“Do you see these?” he asked, squatting down in the water. His voice was half-amused, half-confused as he picked up a shell, inspecting it closely, twisting it between his fingers. “They look like little houses.” He squinted at it, brow furrowed. “But they’re...empty?”

You chuckled softly, sitting a little farther up on the sand, letting the warmth of the sun soak into your skin. “It’s a shell, Ani. There’s usually something inside them, like little creatures.”

At that, he gave a confused look before lifting the shell to his ear, listening intently as if expecting some kind of magic sound. When he didn’t hear anything, his face twisted in surprise “Nothing but emptiness,” he muttered, tossing the shell away like it had betrayed him.

You laughed at his cute reaction, watching as he moved toward the water’s edge again, curiosity leading him. He knelt down, fingers reaching into the shallow water to pull out another shell, this one slightly larger. His expression went from curiosity to confusion again before he peered inside.

“Wait, there’s something in this one,” voice suddenly serious. He poked at the shell from the inside with the tip of his gloved finger. Something small, slimy, and glistening seemed to wriggle inside.

“Uh, Ani—”

Before you could finish, he recoiled, face twisted in disgust. He dropped the shell, letting it plop back into the water as if it had burned him. “What the hell was that?!” he exclaimed, shaking his hand in the air like he was trying to shake off a phantom. “That thing was alive!”

You couldn’t help but laugh even harder, seeing how offended he looked; brows furrowed deeply, lips pursed in absolute distaste. He wiped his hand against his soaked pants, clearly still trying to scrub off the memory of whatever had touched him. “I don’t like that,” he grumbled, walking away from the water’s edge like he was trying to distance himself from the scene of the crime.

“I told you the ocean’s full of surprises,” you teased, watching his scowl deepen as he moved back toward you.

“Next time, I’ll just stick to sand,” he muttered, but his eyes softened as he sat down beside you, dusting the sand off his hands with even more disgust. He turned his gaze to you, lips curling into a grin that was softer than usual. “At least I can’t get slimed by sand.”

You reached over, brushing some sand off his shoulder “You know, I’d love to make you go back in there to face your fears.”

Anakin snorted and leaned back on his hands, gaze focused on the horizon. “I don’t fear anything. Except... sea creatures.” He glanced at you with a little pout. “Those things are out to get me.”

“Sure, Ani. Whatever you say.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

[girlscomehome]

the babysitter: revised

pairing: babysitter!abby x fem!reader cw: NSFW & MDNI… kinda… college!reader, Y/N use imsry, reader is a big family guy lol, not proofread. wc: 1.7k a/n: hiiiiii i was on hiatus for sooo long… so here’s a revised vers of the babysitter bc it makes me cringe and lowk this vers does too and it's a series… :p

“I-I know, Mom! I know! I’ll be home next break, I promise,” you shift the phone from your left cheek to your right, pinching it between your shoulder and ear to keep it steady. “I’m kind of busy right now… I’ll call you later, okay? Sorry!” You hang up quickly, stifling a giggle at her persistence.

She has no idea, you think to yourself, biting back a grin.

You stuff your phone into your back pocket and hurriedly shove an armful of clothes into an old, worn duffel bag. Grabbing a sticky note, you scribble, At parents’ house. Don’t eat my snacks. Love, the best roommate ever, Y/N. Slapping it onto your desk, you speed-walk out of the dorm, already pulling your phone back out to punch in your childhood home address on Google Maps.

Finally. After months, you’re home. You’ll get to see your brother’s chubby little face, and feel the warmth of Mom and Dad’s hugs. You missed this—being small, being here. Even your brother, who still wears those ridiculous Star Wars onesies, feels like a comfort you’ve been craving.

You relax your shoulders as your grip on the steering wheel loosens, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. In quick motions, you grab the spare house keys from the glove compartment, sling your duffel bag over your shoulder, and step out of the car.

As you approach the house, your eyes scan it with a mix of nostalgia and surprise. The pale blue paint has faded, the window sills are cracked, and the roof shingles look… tired. It’s only been a year, you think, your chest tightening. How do Mom and Dad look?

You twist the key in the lock as quietly as possible, ease the door open, and shut it with a soft click.

“Surprise!” you yell, dropping your bag with a thud and throwing your arms wide, expecting Mom and Dad to leap out in shock and joy.

Except… that’s not what happens.

Instead, you’re greeted by a tall, muscular blonde woman who looks like she could bench-press you. Her eyebrows shoot up, her blue eyes narrowing as she stands from the couch with a startlingly intimidating presence.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demands, her tone sharp, her stance defensive. She looks ready to throw hands.

“W-Wait! I’m Y/N!” you stammer, stepping back. Her expression hardens. “Y/N Y/L/N!” you repeat, this time emphasizing your last name like it’s supposed to mean something to her.

Her posture softens just a little. “Oh. Shit. Sorry,” she mutters, brushing a hand through her blonde braid. “I’m Abby. The babysitter. I forgot the Y/L/Ns had another kid.”

You laugh nervously, picking your bag up. “Yeah, I’m the older one. Where’s my brother?”

“Upstairs. Asleep,” she says flatly, gesturing toward the staircase. “I’m just waiting for your parents to get home.”

She turns away, plopping back down on the couch with a casual ease that screams confidence. Her cargo pants cling to her muscular thighs as she spreads her legs, leaning back. You can feel her eyes on you, sharp and assessing.

“What are you staring at?” she smirks, her voice low and amused.

You blink, snapping out of it. “Uh, nothing!” you laugh awkwardly, feeling heat creep up your neck. Without thinking, you sink onto the couch beside her, unable to stop yourself from stealing glances at her. Up close, her skin looks impossibly smooth, her features striking in a way that makes your chest tighten.

“Why’ve I never met you before?” you ask, your curiosity slipping out.

“Just moved here,” she replies, her voice husky. Her lips curve into a smirk. “You waiting for me to offer you a drink? From your own house?”

You laugh, relaxing into the cushions. The tension between you is almost tangible, and you’re desperate to break it. But instead of saying something, your body moves on its own.

You lean forward, closing the space between you, and kiss her. It’s clumsy and impulsive, but her hands immediately find your hips, grounding you. She pulls back just enough to laugh softly, her breath brushing against your lips.

“You’re bold,” she murmurs before kissing you again, this time deeper, hungrier.

Abby’s hands trail up your back, her fingers pressing into you just hard enough to make you shiver. She smirks against your lips when she feels you react, her grip shifting to your hips to pull you closer. The kiss deepens, heat pooling in your core as her confidence and control take over.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You know that. But it doesn’t stop you. Her lips are addictive, her scent intoxicating.

When Abby finally pulls away, you’re breathless, your lips tingling. Her gaze locks with yours, her eyes darker now, filled with something that sends a thrill down your spine.

“You’re something else,” she murmurs, her voice low and husky. Her hand brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, lingering against your cheek.

“I could say the same about you,” you reply, your voice softer than you expected.

She laughs lightly, leaning back into the couch, her fingers still resting against your hip. For a moment, the tension between you shifts, softening into something almost comfortable. You study her, the sharp lines of her jaw, the faint freckles across her nose, the way her braid hangs over her shoulder.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Abby asks, tilting her head slightly.

“Like what?” you ask, feeling your face heat up.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit.

Her lips twitch into a smile. “Good luck with that.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway breaks the moment. Abby sits up straight, her head turning toward the window. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“Is that my parents?” you ask, panic bubbling up in your chest.

“Yeah, that’s them.” Abby stands quickly, pulling you up with her. “You need to—uh—go upstairs or something. I don’t think they need to walk in on this.”

You grab your bag and rush toward the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. Just as you reach the top, you glance back at Abby. She’s standing in the living room, adjusting her braid and smoothing out her cargo pants like nothing happened.

“Hey,” she says, her voice just loud enough for you to hear.

“Yeah?”

“This… isn’t over.” Her smirk returns, and it sends a spark of excitement through you.

You nod, turning away before she can see the blush spreading across your cheeks.

Once upstairs, you tiptoe toward your old room, pushing the door open as quietly as you can. The familiar scent of the space hits you immediately—laundry detergent and the faintest hint of lavender from an old candle on your dresser. You set your bag down, your mind still spinning from everything that just happened.

What were you thinking? What was she thinking? You press your fingers to your lips, still swollen and sensitive from her kisses, and flop onto your bed. Your heart is still racing, and the faint hum of adrenaline lingers in your veins.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, and every time you close your eyes, you see her—her sharp blue eyes, her confident smirk, the way her hands felt on your body. You toss and turn, trying to will yourself into calm, but it’s no use.

The next morning, you wake to the sound of voices downstairs. You blink groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before realizing one of those voices is Abby’s.

You slip out of bed and creep toward the top of the stairs, peeking down into the kitchen. Abby is standing by the counter, talking with your mom. She looks relaxed, a mug of coffee in her hands, her braid draped over one shoulder.

Your mom laughs at something Abby says, and you feel a strange twist in your stomach. Jealousy? Embarrassment? You’re not sure. But when Abby glances up and catches your eye, her lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, and your cheeks heat up instantly.

Your mom is mid-conversation with Abby, her back to you. Abby’s standing by the counter, a mug of coffee in her hands, her posture casual and confident as always.

You pause, suddenly nervous. Would they even be happy to see you? It had been so long since your last visit.

Before you can second-guess yourself, your mom turns around, and her jaw drops.

“Y/N?!” she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and delight. She freezes for a moment, as if she can’t believe her eyes, before rushing toward you and pulling you into a tight hug. “What are you doing here? When did you get in?”

Your dad, who was flipping pancakes at the stove, turns around with an equally surprised expression. “Is that—Y/N?! Oh my God, kiddo, it’s really you!” He drops the spatula onto the counter and strides over, joining your mom in the embrace.

“I missed you guys,” you say, your voice muffled against your mom’s shoulder.

“We missed you too!” your mom says, pulling back to look at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming? We could’ve picked you up!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you explain, smiling sheepishly.

“Well, you succeeded!” your dad laughs, ruffling your hair. “This is the best surprise we’ve had in ages.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Abby watching the scene unfold. She’s leaning against the counter, her arms crossed and a bemused smile on her face.

“Oh, wait, Abby!” your mom says suddenly, turning toward her. “You haven’t met Y/N yet, have you?”

Abby shakes her head, her smirk widening slightly. “Nope.”

Your mom doesn’t seem to pick up on the undercurrent in Abby’s tone. “Well, Y/N, this is Abby. She’s been staying with us for the past few weeks, helping out with everything while your dad and I juggle work. She’s amazing.”

“Yeah, she’s been a lifesaver,” your dad adds, smiling at Abby. “We couldn’t have asked for a better helper.”

Abby shrugs modestly. “Just doing my job,” she says, though the glint in her eyes as she looks at you suggests otherwise.

“Well, Abby, you’ve officially met the whole family now,” your mom says, beaming. “And Y/N, you’re just in time for breakfast. Sit down, we’ll make you a plate!”

You glance at Abby as you take a seat at the table, your cheeks heating up under her gaze. She doesn’t say anything, but the way she looks at you feels like a secret—one your parents are blissfully unaware of.

[justallihere]

rereading fourth wing for the first time ever since reading it in may 2023 so it’s been a while but i think i’m going to have fun with this actually!! jury’s still out on iron flame though lmao

anyway chapter 1 thoughts here you go

“I don’t need the prohibited power of mind reading to know exactly what she sees.” If Violet ends up being an intinnsic so help me god I will turn this car around

I love getting to reread this first conversation with Lilith knowing what we know about her after Iron Flame. She talks about scribes being below riders—not in strength, but in safety. Violet would have no protection as a scribe. It’s fun seeing the true meaning behind her words compared to how Violet takes it—how Lilith wants her to take it, so Violet doesn’t catch onto the secrets she’s keeping

Also she never explicitly agrees or disagrees that Papa Sorrengail wouldn’t want Vi to be a rider. “I doubt he wants much these days” is cold as fuck but actually says nothing about how he’d feel about what she’s doing. For all we know he’d agree. He loved Lilith after all. He had to be as pragmatic and maybe even as ruthless as she was

Oh dear god I forgot the phrase “for the win” was in this damn book

Lilith sees Violet more clearly than anyone except for Xaden. She knows she can use her size to her advantage, and she knows that while her strength isn’t physical, it’s no less impressive

Anyway I love her and I miss her!!!

“Lightning quick” the foreshadowing in this book is not subtle

I forgot that the fables demonize the dragons?? I hope we dive into that more in OS

“…more vocal about her men than I have been…about all two of them.” Okay Halden and?? Or do we count Dain in this?

Rhiannon is here!!

Violet swooning over Dylan’s not-proposal is actually so cute. Baby’s a romantic!!!

She’s so horny 😭 one look at Xaden and she’s ready to climb the man like a fucking tree

“…as if he can hear me over the howl of wind…” not you baby just your thoug—intentions! Just your intentions!

Two seconds into meeting and that muscle in his jaw is already ticking god I love this man

“Seems like we’re even.” “Hardly.” It’s not her fucking fault her mom sucks Riorson??? Leave my girl alone. I don’t love you THAT much

Love that we can see him already rethinking his assumptions of Violet when he realizes she gave Rhiannon her boot

[milli-moi]

Honestly, I have other thoughts on a few of your reads here on Agatha’s reasoning for wanting to make Wanda believe she is evil. At first I thought I disagreed but I don’t think I do, I think I more want to open the door (pun not initially intended - and then very intended) to other aspects of this pain.

I have a different perspective and honestly when I rewatched Wandavision after watching AAA I really felt seen.

I will never be a parent, it’s something I’ve wanted my whole life but in recent years my partner and I have come to accept that we don’t think we would be able to be the parents what we would want to be and that a child deserves due to our combination of disabilities.

This hurts like hell. I was somewhat numb to it for a year or two but then last year we learned that a friend who we used to be very close to and who had been told she might never have children, was pregnant. This destroyed me in a way I hadn’t expected it to and it continues to destroy me in a lot of ways. One of the things I hate most is an unbelievable jealousy.

I am not a jealous person- yes I’ve had moments but generally I am happy for people. The jealousy I have every time I see this friend’s family and other friends share photos of them spending time with the baby my thoughts are unreasonable.

Through this, watching another person you know (or relate to in Agatha’s case) live the life you wanted, you craved, and have it come to them so easily when you have suffered so much pain to not even have the outcome you needed, I felt a huge connection to Agatha.

I have not lost a child, no, but I have lost the possibility of being a parent and although it isn’t the same pain it is incredibly intense and hard to live with.

Agatha needs Wanda to be the bad guy, needs her to suffer because Wanda got the things she wanted, and if there was such a thing as deserving a happy ending then Agatha doesn’t see why her and Wanda deserved different things. They both had traumatic childhoods, they both turned to darkness to cope -Wanda to Hydra, Agatha to killing witches and dark magic - but Wanda, in a way, was rewarded for that. Wanda got adopted by the avengers, she got a new home, a purpose, a chance to be loved.

Agatha got her chance to be loved for the first time by Death. How cruel and ironic and filled with metaphor about unloved children is that? And even then, in a life of around 360 years, Agatha maybe got 50 years of happiness before it all fell apart.

Wanda experienced loss, but she was supported and comforted and then on top of that she got her children, her ‘spontaneous creation of life’ - just like she had with Rio, except Wanda’s boys got to live.

Agatha hates Wanda in a few ways, feels so much warmth towards her in others, but I think a lot of the hate, the anger is a case of ‘why do you get to be happy?’

On bad days, days when I’m really heavily reminded of my own life situation, without going into too many details I can say that I have wanted to say this to so many people. I think it’s a valid response when you have had disabilities, illnesses and conditions, mental health and your own sexuality hold you back so often.

When you look at the happy family your friend has and it makes you feel sick because you feel so many emotions, and in ways you never thought you were even capable of.

WANDAVISION DEEP DIVE part 3

(Wandavision entries: part [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

We left Agatha killing her coven in a flashback (but sparing their children). Back to present Agatha, and what is she doing? Pretending to talk to her rabbit. Look, she might be a dedicated con artist, but she can only come up with very cheesy characters, what can you do?

Is she meeting the real you, Agatha, are you sure?

oh she's so intrigued

She's about to be very very cruel, and there's a lot to unpack here. To her torture is a mean to an end, but there's also rage, jealousy, bitterness, so much bitterness there. She hates witches, and she hates Wanda. She also can't help sympathizing with Wanda, the parallels between the two of them are obvious. There are always so many contradicting emotions in Agatha.

Like, the way she's been teaching her about magic. She's taunting her, she's showing off. But once upon a time she was a clueless young witch denied knowledge from her elders. And now that Wanda is in that position, she could teach her. She almost wants to. She is curious, she loves learning, finding out how things work, and in other, better universes she is a teacher.

*angrily shakes a bird at Wanda*

LOOK WHO'S TALKING, OH MY GOD. But honestly though, that's why she can't help sympathizing. They are the same.

And she is a biiiiiit in lust too tbh. Not her fault she has a high libido. Agatha is having a DAY.

A good rule of thumb is, the more Agatha jokes, the more she's uncomfortable with a situation, the fact that she's making fun of a little boy tells you right away that she doesn't mean it. Sarcasm is her defense skill. She was barely able to contain her rage a moment ago, she is not as calm as she appears. And she doesn't like having to sit through Wanda's trauma one bit, both because she's sorry for Wanda and because she doesn't want to witness that pain herself. She had hoped to crack Wanda without having to do this, but she won't step down now, she won't relent.

that's a whole lesbian, dear god. thank you costume and hair departments and thank you kathryn hahn.

my theory is that detective Agnes of Westview was clearly created by Agatha herself rather than Wanda and speaks about her grim personality and eagerness to solve mysteries, but we'll get to that later

that's interesting, she smiles at Wanda, looks worried at the door for a second, then smiles at Wanda again. play acting or real concern? Wanda wasn't looking at her face in that moment.

her body language is something between intrigued and defensive

NOT THIS BITCH DRYING HER EYES AGAIN AT THE "WHAT IS GRIEF BUT LOVE PERSEVERING" SPEECH.

You know what though, for Agatha to know exactly what buttons to push to break Wanda, she'd need to have a deep understanding of how trauma and grief work. Which means she knows the way she blames Rio and hangs up on Nicky's memory is not healthy, but she is unwilling or unable to make an effort towards healing. Not that you can ever completely heal from something like that tbh, but she knows the way she's acting is making things worse.

The slow clap, she's such a cheesy villain. That (gay) way she sits though, she wants both to project strength and to shield her body, she is nervous. She's now 100% sure that Wanda is the Scarlet Witch. Time for her last gamble.

Knowing Agatha as we know her now, it's easy to see she's wearing her best witchy costume to put on the ultimate show. She made Wanda cry to get at her secrets, now it's time to make her angry. She could just have provoked her in the first place, but like I said she's at her core a coward detective and scholar and yearns to learn stuff. I really do believe that Billy and Tommy weren't in any actual danger here and it looks worse than it is. On the other hand, she is absolutely scaring them shitless, but like with Sparky she chooses to ignore their mental well-being if it gets her what she wants. She's not physically hurting them so that's fine, right? And, well, she did the same with Nicky. She loved him so desperately and also selfishly kept him isolated and kept killing in his name. There's a reason why she feels so guilty and can't face him now.

The parallels, tho. The episode starting with Evanora calling her a monster, and ending with her calling Wanda a monster.

Last episode!!!!

telling the kids to take cover as soon as she can get away with it. Wanted to hurt them my ass.

Pathetic! Are you even a real witch? Yep, her usual bit. And especially harsh too. Agatha is gambling a LOT here.

"The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no power, no need for incantation." Agatha was forged the same way, with pain and hellfire, does that give her a claim to Wanda's magic? (Also, power of mother earth on the poster behind? How very green witch!)

How hard and deliberately Agatha is working to traumatize Wanda even further, to make her believe she's a monster. And Agatha is in such an unique position to understand what Wanda is going through, what it means to be called evil for something you are and not for something you do. She knows what it means not being able to control your powers, Wanda never meant to hurt any of these people! She could teach her, offer her community and support. But what does Agatha do instead? Exactly what her mother did to her.

She wants to kill her to take her powers, and she wants to kill her because she's afraid of her. And yet she's also looking in a mirror. Doesn't her neck thingy look like a clergy collar too? She's on the other side of inquisition now.

have you ever read Passing by Nella Larsen? it made me think a lot about how marginalized communities isolate their most vulnerable members and recreate the dynamics of the oppressor, as a way to keep some form of control and also to express their trauma and anger. Wanda didn't do anything to Agatha, but she's the perfect target for Agatha to vent all her pain and anger and frustration.

Wanda tries to copy Agatha and make her relive her traumas, not a good idea trying to manipulate the master manipulator. Agatha has studied and observed and knows a lot about Wanda and that is why her manipulation is so effective, Wanda doesn't know Agatha at all, she's only heard lies so far. Here for example she assumes that Agatha killed the Salemites on purpose, she has no clue that their situations are so similar.

I told you that witches wouldn't accept you, that they would call you a monster and come after you. So much bitterness. That's Agatha's tragedy, and that is what's behind all her selfishness, killing witches, keeping Nicky isolated, torturing Wanda. Passing her trauma along. As much as she chose to be what she currently is... choosing the opposite would have been much easier if she had a community cherishing and teaching her. Just look at how much having an actual loving coven, even for a short time, will make a difference in the future.

and then Wanda wins not because she's more powerful but because Agatha couldn't stop herself from blabbing and showing off and teaching about runes. oh, the irony

what WANDA'S done???? Agatha, you've been poking a nexus being with a stick for days, you useless fuckup (affectionate)

lmaooo she fell ass up

LOOK WHO'S TALKING

Agatha under the spell immediately flirting with Wanda is maybe top five most hilarious things she's ever done

and that's a wrap! Ballad of the witches road here I come!

go to AAA part 1

[maypiles]

VERY TOO SCARILY SPECIFIC MESSAGE WANTING TO COME THROUGH 🥀

❗Take what resonates and leave what does not. Please don't try to force the reading this is very too specific message❗

So, today was supposed to be a cute little "pick a pile" day, you know, something simple, but nope, Spirit decided otherwise. I woke up with this weirdly specific download that hit me like a truck, and now here we are. I swear, Spirit is out here writing soap operas, and I’m just the messenger. If this post finds you, it's for you—or someone you know. Maybe it’s a sign, a wake-up call, or that nudge you’ve been ignoring for way too long. Either way, buckle up because this one’s not just a message; it’s a plot twist. Let’s get into it.

All right, buckle up, because Spirit is coming for your life today, and I’m just the messenger. First off, let me tell you, I don’t even listen to Billie Eilish, okay? except for that one TikTok trending line from "NDA": "You hit me so hard, I saw stars, you couldn’t save me, but you can’t let me go." That’s literally the anthem of this message. I woke up with that playing in my head, which means Spirit decided this needed to be channeled urgently. Whoever stumbles upon this post, it’s not just a coincidence. Spirit does not play around, and this message will either hit you right in the feels or make you think of someone who’s in this exact situation.

Let’s talk about what’s going down:

This reading is so tied to Pile 3 from my last post that it might as well be a sequel. If you picked Pile 3, or even if you didn’t but felt drawn here—hello, welcome, Spirit has entered the chat.

What Spirit is screaming at you about:

There’s a divine feminine in the spotlight here—a true Empress, possibly a Taurus (big Earth energy, though she’s got fire placements, don’t @ me). This is a woman who’s spiritual AF, the kind who probably keeps lunar moth symbolism somewhere in her Pinterest boards. Spirit is showing me snow, transformation, and the sun breaking through—a metaphorical rebirth.

This Empress is in a marriage or committed relationship with a fire sign masculine, and Sagittarius is loud here. But let me just say it: this connection is dead. D-E-A-D. It’s like a decaying fruit you keep trying to salvage but deep down, you know it’s only attracting flies. Sis, you’re not satisfied, and you’ve been suspecting him of cheating—maybe you’ve even gone full-blown FBI mode looking for proof. And guess what? You might not find anything in his phone because this isn’t just about infidelity. This is divine orchestration. (Spirit says you're manifesting him to. ArE yUo??)

About him:

(I hear spirit calling him a bitch 🙂)

Your fire-sign masculine (showing up as the King of Wands reversed) isn’t cheating out of malice. It’s not about you. He’s being karmically redirected, facing his own lessons. Spirit says this isn’t your burden to carry anymore. Let him go, let him learn, because you are being called to step up into your Empress energy. This is your moment.

And, oh, honey, let’s talk about the real tea: there’s someone else in your energy—a true Emperor (big Virgo vibes, but there’s a hint of water there too). I’m not saying this is a "right now" situation. This feels like a "right person, wrong time" scenario. You’ve been lowkey denying your feelings, but Spirit is like, "Stop lying to yourself." Dreams? Pay attention to them. That spicy one you had? Yeah, it’s not random. That’s the new person energetically knocking on your door (or could be someone you already know).

The storm before the glow-up:

You’re being asked to walk away, even though it feels like a storm. The Tower is here, loud and proud, because this divorce (or separation) will feel like a loss—but it’s actually your victory. This is your transformation, your cocoon-breaking moment. Yes, it might take time—Spirit says several months to a year and a half—but the delay is working in your favor. Why? So you can fully heal, step into your power, and reunite with your true soulmate at the right time.

Details Spirit won’t let me skip:

Uranus energy: Sudden changes, rebellion, chaos. This might feel overwhelming, but it’s the catalyst you need. Also, Uranus could be strong aspected in your chart or it could be your dominant planet or in your seventh house even. OMG IS IT 7TH HOUSE AQUARIUS?

Age gap: You might be older than your new person (the Emperor), and school or mentorship could be significant.

Health issues: Some of you might be dealing with migraines, anxiety, or even a literal broken bone. Take care of yourself.

Ancestry: Someone here might have Syrian heritage, listening to Syrian songs, travelled to Syrian, or that’s significant in some way.

Spiritual practices: You’re already intuitive AF, but Spirit is asking you to trust that. Your High Priestess energy is peaking, babe.

The cards are screaming:

The Ace of Pentacles and Empress are your starting and ending points. Spirit is giving you the tools to build something solid, something aligned with your true self. But first, you have to let go of what’s not working.

Your fire sign masculine (again, King of Wands reversed) is showing up with the Nine of Swords, Tower, and Five of Cups—he’s bringing chaos, regret, and heartbreak. Meanwhile, your Virgo Emperor (King of Pentacles) is all about stability, love, and real partnership. This is a 10/10 upgrade, sis.

But here’s the thing: Spirit isn’t just handing you this glow-up. The Hanged Man, Hermit, and High Priestess are asking you to do the inner work. Shadow work. Letting go. Closing cycles. And don’t rush the process—this transformation is meant to take time.

The Judgment, World, and Fool cards are here to say: You’ve got this. Close the old chapter, embrace the new beginning, and trust that you’re being divinely guided.

Spirit’s final mic drop:

Your outcome? Ten of Cups, Sun, Ace of Cups, and Emperor energy. You’re stepping into your divine alignment, creating the life you’ve always dreamed of. This isn’t just a glow-up—it’s a full-on cosmic upgrade.

So, sis, stop running in circles. Let go of the fear. The snow is melting, the sun is rising, and your wings are ready to spread. Transformation is here.

P.S. Don’t you dare ignore your dreams. Spirit is spilling the tea while you sleep.

EDIT: THAT BITCH OF SPIRIT ISN'T DONE YET

All right, let me just start this edit by saying Spirit is relentless and will not let me breathe. I was ready to hit post on this whole saga, but nooo, here I am dragging my oracle deck into the chaos because Spirit said, "We’re not done yet. Pick it up."

And guess what? The oracle cards came in guns blazing, like, "Hey, you forgot to mention that the Divine Feminine is basically scripting her entire life right now." Oh, you wanted closure? Nah, here’s a manifested trilogy, complete with cheating, divorce, a second marriage, and that one soulmate who’s been lurking in the shadows of your dreams like a rom-com waiting to happen. You’re welcome.

Let me spell it out for the DF here because Spirit has no chill:

1. Make the effort: That great love you want? It’s on the way, but only if you stop stalling and take the steps you’ve been guided to take.

2. Divorce: It’s not just a breakup; it’s a rite of passage for your soul’s growth.

3. Very soon: Time to get clear. What do you want? (Hint: it’s not what you’re clinging to.)

4. Calling in your soulmate: Prayers, visualizations, affirmations? You’re doing it. That soulmate? They’re clocking in.

5. True love: Spoiler alert: It’s the real deal. But you’ve gotta clear the karmic clutter first.

And can we just talk about this plot twist for a second? The Divine Feminine is over here manifesting the entire package—the cheating, the heartbreak, the rebirth, the glow-up, and the reunion with her Emperor. She’s scripting this life like it’s her magnum opus. Even Spirit’s like, “She’s got the vision, so let’s give her the drama to match.” LET HER COOK.

But don’t get it twisted. This is not just chaos for chaos’s sake. Every step is part of the Divine Master Plan™. Karmic lessons? Check. Shadow work? Oh, absolutely. And that second marriage? Let’s just say it’s not just about love—it’s about stepping into your highest self and finally getting what you deserve.

So, DF, if this reading feels like it’s dragging you, just remember: Spirit’s not being mean. Spirit’s being specific. Now go journal, light some candles, and make peace with the fact that you’re the main character in this cosmic soap opera. Stay alive, and may your karmic lessons lead you straight to your Emperor.

URGH 😩 let me just get this off my chest because I feel personally attacked by Spirit right now. Like, what do you mean "too specific"? Since when is being specific a crime? At this rate, my blog is going to turn into a full-on "channeled therapy hotline" because Spirit just keeps exposing people—and apparently me too, for reasons I do not appreciate. Let me tell you, I woke up with Billie Eilish in my head (again, Spirit, WHY), channeling your entire life story, and now it’s giving "TikTok psychic who accidentally goes viral for saying someone’s cat is named Buttons." Like, do you see how specific this is getting? Lunar moths, snow, Syrian ancestry, migraines? It’s like, Spirit, please chill before I need to call my own hotline for emotional support. At this point, I might as well start a TikTok because these pick-a-pile readings are out here turning into full-blown docuseries. Who even needs to pick a pile anymore when Spirit is like, "No, we’re just going to read you for filth directly and leave no room for ambiguity. DELIVER THE MESSAGE AND SHUT UP." And don’t get me started on the energy of this whole post. I feel like some of y’all are reading this and thinking, "Wow, this sounds like a private consultation." Like, yeah, it does, doesn’t it? Because Spirit doesn’t know how to keep things light. But fine, if this is what we’re doing now, let me just embrace my destiny as the internet’s most oddly specific tarot reader. My TikTok bio would probably say something like: "Tarot? Sure. But also your migraine, that spicy dream, and why your cat is staring at the wall—let’s unpack it." Anyway, to whoever needed this reading: I hope it hit. Because Spirit made sure it would. Now go handle your business, close those cycles, and let me go journal about why I suddenly feel exposed by my own cards. Stay alive. 💋

[mads-hemmo]

It’s Nice to Have a Friend - Jschlatt

Part 4

Reader has been lonely their whole life. They have never been in a relationship. They don’t understand why no one will love them but their best friend, Schlatt has always been in love with them.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5

CW: the first part of this is straight up 18+, mdni. I will put that part in italic if you decide to skip it.

Schlatt watches in awe as you ride him. He lets out a hoarse moan every time you clench around him. “Does that feel good, baby boy? You like when I squeeze your cock? Such a good boy letting me ride you like this,” you praise him.

His big hands are glued to your hips as he assists you in bouncing on his dick. “Fuck you feel so good, Toots. You’re so tight,” he groans.

You lean down to kiss his opened mouth. You continue to ride him until you’re moaning his name. “Jay. Jay. Schlatt!” You yell except for the voice is not from you riding him but you laying beside him in reality.

Schlatt’s eyes shoot open. He looks to see what is going on in front of him. His arms have made their way around your waist and his erect bulge is pressed against your ass. He quickly gets off of you. “Oh my god, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he stammers, covering himself up with his blanket.

“It’s fine. You were just holding on to me really tight and you seem to have a bit of a problem you may want to deal with,” you tell, looking at his bottom half.

He quickly gets up. “Yeah. Once again I’m so sorry.” Schlatt rushes to his bathroom, locks the door then takes the coldest shower he possibly can. He can’t believe that not only did he cuddle you in his sleep, he also tried to fuck you. He knew sharing a bed was a very bad idea, but he couldn’t have Ted be the one cuddling you. Speaking of Ted, what the fuck was his deal last night? Why was he actively flirting with you like some girl he met at a bar in LA.

Schlatt quickly gets out of the shower, throwing on whatever clothes he can find. He sees you still on his bed, scrolling on your phone. You look up at him. “They must have been some hottie,” you say.

“Who?” Schlatt asks, confused.

“The person you were dreaming about obviously. You were moaning about in your sleep and your buddy seemed very alive this morning.”

Schlatt’s face turns beet. “Um yeah they were.” He definitely found you very hot. However, having a sex dream about your best friend while they are laying beside you is mortifying.

“Who was it? Who were you dreaming about?”

“It was nobody. I can’t even remember," Schlatt lies. He’d be fucked if you found out who he was really dreaming about.

“Oh c'mon. I’m your best friend. You can tell me what it was,” you plead.

Schlatt looks at you for a minute, thinking of a lie of who he could have been dreaming about. “Fine I’ll tell you. It was Megan Fox.”

“Transformers Megan Fox or modern MGK Megan Fox?”

“Uh Transformers,” Schlatt comes up with. He just tried to think of some hot celebrity and she was the first to cross his mind.

“Good choice. Didn’t think she was really your type,” you tell him.

“That’s why it was so strange. Is Ted still here?”

You shrug. “I would assume so since he never said bye.”

Schlatt nods making his way into the kitchen. He sees Ted sitting at his breakfast bar drinking coffee. “Morning. How’d you sleep?” Ted asks, looking up from his mug.

“Shitty,” Schlatt says.

“Aww, sleeping by the person you’re in love with didn’t go well?” Ted asks, mocking Schlatt.

Schlatt flips him off. “I fucking woke up cuddling them.”

“I’m not seeing the issue here? Did they not want you touching them?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I woke up with a fucking boner,” Schlatt groans, putting his face in his hands.

Ted starts laughing so hard, he almost spits his coffee out. “That’s too good. I’m so glad they ended up wanting to share a bed with you. I wish I could’ve seen their face.”

“Well, glad you think so. They wanted to share a bed with you.”

“With me? Why would they want that? They don’t know me,” Ted asks, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s hilarious because they thought you were flirting with them. Asked me if you were single,” Schlatt tells him. He is starting to feel so embarrassed for being jealous.

“Why would they-��� Ted stops then realizes. “Ohh that. I did that to piss you off.”

“You did what? You flirted with my best friend to piss me off? Why?” Schlatt felt himself getting angry. Ted used you to just piss him off.

“Because I wanted to see this. I wanted you to get so jealous that you actually admit your feelings just to make me stop. You don’t think they know something’s up?”

“They don’t know anything and they never will because they will never feel the same.”

Ted rolls his eyes. “You won’t know unless you tell them. They are probably waiting for you to make the first move.”

Schlatt sighs. “I don’t know. I just feel like if they wanted me, I would know it.” Schlatt feels so dumb about how much he likes you. He wishes he would know you felt the same, but that wasn’t possible. He would just have to suffer in his self pity and watch you fall in love with someone else.

As Ted and Schlatt talk, they hear you walk into the kitchen. They both look over at you. Schlatt’s heart stops when he sees you are wearing his tie dye hoodie with a pair of shorts. You look like a dream and it’s taking everything in him to not fuck you over the counter. He will blame it on Ted being here and not his anxiety over being around you.

“Are you hungry?” Schlatt asks you, trying to clear his mind.

You shrug. “I could eat. Do you have any breakfast food though?” You ask, making your way to his pantry.

“I’m not sure. I can’t remember when I last went to the store, but you can look,” Schlatt says.

You close the pantry. “I think I’m just going to go to Dunkin on my way home,” you tell him.

“Good choice. The coffee of my people,” Ted says, making you laugh slightly.

“I can order something for you if you want,” Schlatt offers, not wanting you to leave yet.

“Don’t worry about it. I need to go into the salon later today anyways. Thank you though.”

Schlatt just nods. He goes into his room to grab your backpack. He comes back into the kitchen to give it to you.

“Oh thank you. I would’ve forgotten it,” you say. “Here’s your hoodie.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can keep it,” he tells you.

You smile at him. “I’m heading out. Thanks for the sushi and movie night. Nice to meet you, Ted.”

Schlatt follows you out to the door. “Be careful. Text me when you get home safe. Let me know if you need anything,” he tells you.

“Of course. Bye Schlatt.”

“Bye Toots.” Schlatt closes the door.

“You’re already so whipped and you aren’t even with them,” Ted comments.

“Fuck you. When are you going home?”

“Aww you’re trying to get rid of me already?”

“I have a few videos to record. You can stay if you need. I’m just being bitter.”

“Ah it’s okay. I was about to head home anyway. Going to go see my parents before I head back to LA,” Ted says.

After a little while, Ted heads home and Schlatt goes into his office. He hops on Discord and sees a message from Aztro. ‘I’m not sure if Mika told you, but we have a show in New York coming up. You don’t have to come to the show, but we thought we could at least go hang out somewhere.’

‘Of course I want to hang and even go watch the show. Was there something specific you had in mind?’

‘We were thinking about going to a karaoke bar. Also invite (Y/N), we want to meet them.’ Mika adds.

Schlatt thought for a minute. Karaoke sounds nerve wracking, but he knew you would love it. ‘Sounds fun! I’ll let them know.’

‘Yay!’ Aztro replies.

Schlatt records a few sponsored videos. You in his hoodie doesn’t leave his mind. Neither does thinking about karaoke. Schlatt thinks of an idea of how to be honest with you, but he’s not sure if it will work. He ignores his anxieties and texts you about the karaoke bar.

A/N: Ahh part four is finally out!! I have the next two parts planned out so yay! Thanks to being snowed in, I have more time to write which is great. Thank you for your support! Hope you all enjoy!!

[stevenose]

Yes. Yes we can talk abt high steve. I think it’s like this.

taking an edible w steve always starts so giggly and then at the 30min mark he’s capital h Horny. ur joking abt something so inconsequential w him and suddenly he’s like “haha you know what’s really funny. i wont u…”

and you indulge him, let him paw at you and blab nonstop about how good you feel, and you only laugh a little when he acts like your tits are the most mind-blowing thing he’s ever seen, and just when he gets his mouth on you is when YOUR high hits. and you’re sitting there, feeling like everything around you is melting except for him, feeling both so in love and so carnal while he fucks you, and cums, and then keeps going because he’s Insane. and he doesn’t stop talking the whole goddamn time because he’s INSANE.

this took me a while to reply to bc i had to put my phone down and walk away…

it’s cute to think abt being best friends and you KNOW if you both get high with each other you’re going to fool around. but you never acknowledge it. it’s this unspoken thing.

so you’re both stressed out and decide to take an edible. sitting real close to each other on the couch while a random movie plays. you’re trying to pay attention - honestly. you both are at first, giggling, slowly getting higher and higher.

“think it’s kicking in,” he says, sinking into the cushions. his eyes are hooded. you’re pretty sure his high started a while ago and this is just the only time he’s verbalized it.

“you okay?”

“uh-huh.” his head lulls to the side. “you?”

“mhm.”

“you with me?”

“mhm,” you repeat.

you stare at each other for a long while. steve’s cheeks flush.

he giggles. you giggle. and then both of you burst into a fit of them, laughing beyond the point of being able to breathe, feeling exhausted and restless.

it happens out of nowhere, as usual. steve’s mouth is on yours quickly, hands enveloping your cheeks. he holds you so you don’t move away - as if you would. your hands curl into his hair and you sigh, relaxed, high becoming heady.

a hand moves down to your chest, big and warm as it grips your breast. you groan, leaning into him further. he gasps as he pulls away, looking fucked out, eyes red and hardly open.

“need you,” he moans, his fingers tweaking your nipple. “c’mere.”

you’re sat on his lap now, his hard-on pressing into your core. you wish you weren’t wearing sweatpants. wanna feel his cock, feel it throb against your cunt. and you know it’ll get there, but you’re impatient. steve’s moaning like a whore below you, hands exploring every single inch of you. groping your ass, your thighs, his lips trailing down your neck.

“keep - keep doin’ that,” he begs, fucking his hips up into you. “feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

“steve.” you’re breathless. you can feel your heart beating so hard and heavy it almost scares you. you’re hyper sensitive, needy, grinding harder.

“tits,” he gasps. “need your tits, baby, they’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

you laugh at first, but it’s really not funny when his lips wrap around a nipple. you’re whining like a whore now, so desperate for him, for anything he’ll give you.

you’re really fucked up now, too. finally on his level, and all you can think about is him. everything is purely carnal. you’re hardly even thinking.

“leave hickeys,” you moan. “please, wanna remember.”

he sucks love bites eagerly into the plushness of your breasts.

“oh,” he whispers, “need to feel you, please?”

when you’re both bare and you’re sinking down on him, your favorite steve comes out - chatty, pussy drunk, touchy steve. hands moving everywhere again, five new hickeys on your body. he talks to you in between each.

“pussy - this pussy is made for me, huh? like we’re meant to be. perfect fit.”

you wouldn’t exactly call it that. he’s so big you feel like you’re splitting open. the high soothes the pain, feeling fuzzy rather than sharp.

“uh-huh,” you say anyway.

“i’m gonna cum. gonna cum in this tight — shit — mmmph —“

“yes,” you gasp, hips rocking. you’re both moving slow even though everything feels like it’s moving fast. “yes, steve, feels so good when - i love it when you -“

you shudder. you can’t even get the words out.

“say it,” he grits. “quick, i’m close.”

your stomach flips violently, clit pulsing. his thumb lazily flicks against it.

“love it when you cum in me.”

he plants his feet and fucks into you, rough and sloppy, making you fold into him. you bury your head into his shoulder and wail.

“my best friend,” he grits. “fuckin’ love you.”

you press open mouthed kisses to his skin. “i love you. oh my god, i love you, please cum.”

his grunts and groans are pornographic, unloading into you, so warm. feels so good when you’re high - spreads the bliss through your body. you cum a moment later, just from the feeling of his balls pressed against your ass, his thumb still swiping.

but he doesn’t stop. you squeak, a little sore, a little overstimulated.

“steve -!”

“i know,” he groans, continuing to fuck you. he’s breathless, so goddamn hot with his messy hair and dark eyes. “i’m sorry, i can’t stop, y’feel so goddamn good i just - i can’t - need more, please?”

“okay,” you breathe.

he sighs. “my good girl.”

[weepingtalecowboy]

honestly don’t worry about the rant I quite enjoyed it

yeah you are totally right with the power scaling

I just used satire in my own post to make it obvious

like the weird ways people scale like sky , fierce deity and stuff

Is a bit dumb and more like a headcanon then it is actually supported by the games

like no offense towards the god sky or fierce deity stans at all

but like you said fierce deity is NOT a god

but a deity who canonically in the Zelda series are on a different level then gods

like this alone would make the scaling a bit janky

but also saying that fierce deity (or time ) slayed majora is wrong as well

he defeated the mask

a mask used by just a skull kid to try to annihilate the world (and with a winning hand of over 50 times it managed to do it… if not for the ocarina)

it wasn’t even the actual majora fierce deity defeated just the mask

and even then it still was clowning on both link and the deity

it took nothing seriously (probably because the character wasn’t a threat to it anyway)

honestly a thing I really love about the gods of Zelda games

is how there is a clear distinction between goddess and deities

like hylia for example over thirty games in and we still can’t comprehend what she even IS

we only know she is a goddess who somehow reincarnated as Zelda for free golden Doritos

yet she is still present in the series as a goddess as well

this incomprehensiblity makes her Seem so all powerful

people YEARS after she appeared have no clue what she even is how she actually looks like , what her nature is

What she IS is a mystery that people can’t comprehend

the exact same thing happens with the wind fish and Oshu the ocean king as well

we know vaguely they are whales and appeared as such in their respective games

yet that brings up more questions then answers

what is the god of dream

are they the same

are they different beings

the introduction of Marin in hyrule warriors made the wind fish even more of a mystery because that implies either the world isn’t real or Marin is real

like again we have no idea

they are incomprehensible

majora and it’s mask are very much cryptics and nobody truly knows their origins

if the entity is a mask

if the mask is separate

why it wants to destroy the world of termina

how it was involved with the captain of the skeletons giving lore that it was involved in a war that destroyed them

we know nothing once again

the fates in cadence of Hyrule are like really weird as well

like Greek or Roman history is as close to an understanding as we are gonna get

yet the fates of mythology are just as confusing and even unsettling in this context

because there should be three fates one of future ,one of present ,one of past they tread their treads for a person and if you see the three fates cut a string in your sight you or someone close to you will die

that is still hella scary to consider

because they constantly tread threads when you speak to them in the game and one seems to be missing

like what the hell happened

we will never understand

yet fierce deity is comprehensive we know it’s just the anger of termina for majora's mask clowning on them

I think in unironically that this distinction makes sense and fixes the power scaling

like gods are told to be incomprehensible and vaste to the point where nobody now’s anything but their rough purpose (except we still don’t really understand anything regardless)

like now sky seems to also not really have ANYTHING to really make him a god beyond headcanon

and even then it would be shaky at best still

his journey was served to him on a golden plater

he had gods

a guide in form of his sword

blessings

and the ability to upgrade his sword (which he in fact DIDN’T make by himself but only upgraded)

yet still messed up

and like it is absolutely fine that he was kinda op and well prepared

But demise ain’t that much

yeah he cursed the whole world and then reincarnated as ganondorf

BUT his curse is not a sign that he immediately and utterly is a god

he was a scoliosis bad skin cancer fall guy whose TOES (THE TOES.!! ) you had to cut to force it back in its hole

and even if he was brought back… he obviously wasn’t full power regardless

Zelda NEEDS to be sacrificed (and it’s not just taking a bit of power from her she needs to actually die to be a sacrifice… that is like what a sacrifice is meant to be you don’t kinda attack a goat when you sacrifice it you kill it for sure)

and honestly in minish cap Vaati did the same and Zelda is also still not sacrificed but just drained of light force by the end yet nobody acknowledges that four killed a god (if we count the demise thing) as well

like there are many fundamentally flawed ideas that while no doubt in fiction are interesting

are not canon to the game

demise hasn’t even done stuff it was ganondorf or ganon (as we count them separately so should demise be counted as a separate entity because even with the links we count them separate as they have all different memories and experiences)

Why are we even making fierce deity special when legend exists

Fanfic prompt:

You know what in comparison to like the canon gods we met fierce deity is just a 6,3 dude with a big unpractical sword and that’s it

Like that’s literally it the beams it can shoot legend was capable of shoot as young as link to the past lol

Four can shoot beams in four swords adventures

Sky has his beam fancy and called a skyward strike

And in triforce heroes legend has a legit cosplay that guess what …can shoot beams

We don’t need to make the fierce deity feel special because it really really isn’t lol

The windfish can create a whole island on a whim and we know that marin at the very least exists so that cannot just be a dream

Because she is chilling in hyrule warriors very much real looking in my opinion

Fierce deity can’t do that from what I saw of it

Fierce deity just a rat in comparison

Honestly would be hilarious if time was worried about the deity until he realized that the deity is his least worrying problem next to legend

Legend clowned on the deity,…

Just saying the den of trials is not the hardest dungeon he had to deal with

Honestly now that I think about it

Legend might actually be a deity

Like death is no problem because you die in cadence of Hyrule for upgrades and with barely any consequences… like at all

He can shoot beams (which seems to be all you need to be a deity nowadays)

Eats ganon for lunch every other week (or adventure)

Has the fierce deity outfit from an actual trial in hytopia

Interacted with …the windfish and has the ability to wake a god,… and build dungeons in its dream

Saved din and Nayru in the oracle games (farore was there as an easter egg)

Fought onox a non ganondorf evil demon thingy with god like powers who tried to control the concept of time by possessing Nayru, and tried to light the flame of destruction to annihilate the whole world

He could control time and space

Change the seasons on a whim

See the future and met the fates of past, and future in cadence of Hyrule (past let’s you come back to life , future tells you where you have to go )

He has like the golden three

The Windfish

And the fates as friends (or acquaintances but then again the windfish likes him canonically for waking him… the fates kinds are actually helpful)

Like honestly legend probably is more of a god for having the golden Doritos every new adventure for breakfast (he probably carries them after cadence of Hyrule or maybe the fates go out their way to revive him anytime he dies … but it’s probably the Doritos

He wishes on the triforce enough to have it on straight up speed dial

Like… probably literally having it on his hand because everyone gave up on building temples for it when they can just give it to the guy who holds it as often as one holds their tooth brush

If we include the royal blood thing as in the mortal with the blood of the goddess

And him and fable being siblings

Then he should be named legendary hylia and nothing else will be tolerated

Like dude is already named legend

And names hold power and significance

Fierce deity probably is his guard dog

Not because hylia's true reincarnation needs help but because it is the legendary hylia's purse dog Anna fun accessory

While time is freaking out that legend could be off legendary status,… honestly I think that was obvious

I feel so bad for hyrule because how the hell can you possibly even TRY to live up to the legacy of a god like being beyond death and capable of ending world destructive threats and has more godly friends then he has mortal ones

It's like ridiculously unfair lol

The chain has a few deities on their group yet sky is not the god in this scenario

Warriors was making fun of a literal god like being , time, sky , etc. probably realize that while he doesn’t lol

And legend probably doesn’t even know that he is as close to a god as one can possibly be

[aquariusmiller]

Sell-out

Pairing: QZ!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After a smuggler Joel and Tess were working with didn’t pay for his end of the deal, Joel captures his girlfriend, you. Tired of your boyfriend’s scheming ways, you decide to use the situation to your advantage.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, captivity, mentions of m!oc, cheating, darkish!Joel, dubcon (power imbalance, eventual consent), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampie, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamics

A/N: Happy New Year! Decided to do something different for this one-shot and I'm excited to put it out there because I personally love reading these types of stories and I've been writing this for a while. I appreciate any feedback and enjoy these messy characters! :)

masterlist

The first thing you feel waking up is sharp pain coming from the back of your head. You move your arm to inspect it, but the weight of chains stops you, clanging against the hard floor. You quickly open your eyes to see where you are.

The room you’re in is wide, brick walls of it covered with graffiti, holding a network of pipes. You... You know this place. You’ve seen it from outside of the abandoned warehouse near the QZ, waiting for your boyfriend Lucien to finish up meeting with his smuggling crew. You always hated the types of guys coming here and the way he’d try to fit in with them, mimicking them without noticing. Most of the time, though, you’d bear with it because his line of work brought in the resources. To him and to you. This has to be the shadiest place in a wide perimeter, and it smells like it; of sweat, dried blood and rusted metal.

You raise your arms slightly and turn to look at them. There’s a pull of the heavy metal again. You see chains tied around your wrists, locked around a metal pipe. You don’t remember any of this happening, much less getting here. Your mind runs a mile an hour, trying to find an answer to the burning question – why the hell are you here tied up?

Heavy and intent footsteps grow louder until you see a big wooden door open. Your eyes widen as you see who comes out, his bearded face and stern expression unmistakable. He leans on a small metal table, staring you down. Joel fucking Miller.

Of course you know who Joel Miller is. Along with Tess, he’s one of the most notorious smugglers in the Boston QZ, feared by even the toughest of brutes. Tess is the brains, Joel is the muscle. They worked with Lucien on his most recent deal and... Oh, shit. You know why you’re here.

His expression is nonchalant, except for a subtle scowl. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You look him straight in the eye, trying not to show the fear bubbling in your stomach. You curse yourself as a tremble in your voice betrays it. “Why am I here?”

He grins darkly at the tremble in your voice, satisfied with his plan to intimidate you. “You know why you’re here.”

Of course you do. This isn’t the first time Lucien’s sleazy tactics backfired on him, yet he always thought he knew better than you. Didn’t want to listen to your advice and did as he pleased. Now you’re the one captured for it.

You decide in a split second you’ll pretend you have no idea. “No, I don’t.”

“Liar.” He says menacingly.

“What do you want?” You get annoyed and struggle against the chains.

“No use strugglin’. You’ll just hurt yourself. And I want my share.” He walks around as he speaks, heavy boots stomping on the concrete floor. You have to resist the urge to flinch at every one of his steps. “Thought you were so smart, double-crossing me and Tess.”

You glare at him, determined not to let him sense your fear. “Me? I’m not a smuggler.”

He smirks. “Oh, right. Forgot you’re Lucien’s arm candy.”

You know what he’s doing. Trying to coax an answer out of you by implying your only use is standing still and looking pretty. You won’t fall for it. You tilt your head. “Forgot you’re Tess’s muscle.”

You see a flicker of annoyance pass him at the quip before he composes himself. “The muscle could snap you in half.”

You keep glaring up at him. “Good thing. Nothing else going for you.”

He comes closer and kneels in front of you, his shadow looming over your frame. “You’re makin’ this a whole lot harder on yourself.”

You keep eye contact as he comes closer to you, his breath hitting your face, your breath speeding up from adrenaline and... His proximity. He’s so close you can smell his musk mixed with gun powder. God, not him. Not right now. You swallow.

He smirks. “What? Cat ate your tongue?”

You struggle to think as your skin warms up slightly, making part of you not want to leave. Looking away from him towards the floor, you shake out of it. The chains are tied to the pipe with a lock. If you’re lucky and he hasn’t thought this through, he could be keeping the keys to the lock somewhere on him. Joel wouldn’t, but it’s worth a try. You could also convince him to let you go. You’ve talked your way out of worse, and Joel is a pragmatic man. If you figure out what he wants, you stand a chance.

After a few seconds of running through this in your head, you have a plan of action. “I can give you your share.”

He leans a bit away to check your facial expression, determine if you’re deceptive. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. It was a stupid idea, and I told him that. You should be made up for your struggle.” You try to keep your expression flat, playing up the “you deserve compensation” card.

He hums, smiling slyly. “You’re good. Can’t tell if you’re lyin’.”

“Well, I’m telling the truth.” You huff, genuinely annoyed this time at the predicament you’re in because of your boyfriend. “So how about we cut a deal and you get me out of these?” You raise your arms as much as the chains tying them on your back will allow.

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re takin’ this way better than I thought.”

You roll your eyes. “Not used to people coming in to save me.”

He shrugs and nods. “See...” He gets up slowly from his crouching position, walking around again. “I could cut you a deal.” He stops and looks you over, his eyes scanning your body slowly, like a predator deciding whether to play with its prey or finish the hunt. “Ain’t sure you’re gonna like it, though.”

Relief, intrigue and a bit of fear are swirling in your chest. Your voice cracks but you compose it quickly. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

He comes closer to you and crouches again, stroking your cheek with no emotion in his eyes, searching yours for any signs of discomfort. Chills prickle your skin and you’re not sure if you want to bite your lip to hold back your reactions or to spur him on. You refrain from it.

You should move to stop him. But it’s as if his gaze is keeping you in place, looking into your very soul.

“This is about sendin’ a message.” He strokes your cheek with his knuckles, the roughness of his calloused hand pleasant against your soft skin. “So you can tell me where you keep everythin’ you own, or...” He bites his lip, his eyes closing slightly with lust. “We can do somethin’ else.”

You’re breathing heavily, you heart beating quickly in your chest, leaning against the wall to get as much distance as you can from him in a desperate attempt to think clearly.

All of Lucien and your resources or... Whatever Joel’s up to? You don’t like this. You’re cornered. As much as you’re intrigued by the latter, you have a sinking feeling in your gut you’ll be forced to do it anyway. You frown in resignation.

You turn back to Joel, your tongue on your teeth in anger. “What else?” You spit out.

He smirks, aware of his position, taking his hand off your cheek. “You’re a smart girl. ’M sure you’ll figure it out.”

Thinking of your next move, you look at him frustrated. You lunge and bite the front of his shirt, keeping him in place as you try to will your chained hands to move to his jean pockets and look for the key.

He scoffs in frustration and shakes you off, pinning your shoulders against the wall. “Goddamnit-“

You slam against the wall, scowling at him.

He keeps you pinned and scoffs. “Oh, c’mon.” He smiles slyly, running his finger down the pulse point on your neck. “Afraid you’ll like it?” He leans in and whispers in your ear, his lips lightly grazing the shell of it. “You already do.”

You hate him with a fiery passion. You hate the invisible pull between you two and the way your breath is quickening.

He keeps whispering. “Smart girl. Sharp as a whip. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle ya.” He runs his hands down your sides, stoking the fire lit in you.

Your eyes shut slightly on their own accord, the sensation in your core pleasant. He’s flattering you, using your vanity against you as if he’s reading into your mind.

“I could make good use of you.” He whispers, his breath hitting your ear. “In a lotta ways.” His words are seductive, but you sense a deeper meaning. He sees tangible value in your calculating mind and survival instincts.

You should resist him. Use any tactic you can think of and try to run. But you’re curious about what he could do to you. You like the thought, and your body’s betraying you too, heat pooling low.

You’re also curious about the vision of Joel treating you like an equal. Tess is his partner in crime and you’re not sure how you’d fit in the picture. Yet, desperation for recognition Lucien never gave you lets you think wishfully for a fleeting moment. Does thinking like this make you a traitor? Weak willed? A sell-out? What devastates you is you’re not sure Lucien would care for this more than losing his supplies.

There’d likely be hell to pay either way. Hell with Joel seems like the lesser one.

So you entertain Joel. You bite your lip and turn to him slightly as you whisper. “Bet you could.”

He slowly pulls away from your ear and smiles slyly. “You’re comin’ around.”

You return his sly smile with your own. “Are you gonna make good on your promise?”

He leans in, his lips inches from yours, an invitation for you to close the distance. “You bet.”

You look down at his lips, corners of your mouth crooked into a smug smile. Temptation rises in you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. And a flame will it be when Lucien finds out.

You lean in and kiss him. He kisses you back searingly, full of pent up aggression and desire, biting your lip softly. You moan at the slight sting, both getting lost in this desperate and carnal moment, mouth to mouth, no more space for thinking. His tongue finds your lower lip, asking for access. You grant it instantly, opening your mouth to let him explore it. You catch his tongue with yours and they glide against each other in a slow dance.

Moaning, you pull away. He grunts slightly at the loss of your lips on his. There’s a certain question in the way you look at him now that he can’t answer; how far is this going? He’s swept away in the tide of his arousal and letting it guide him.

He gets up and puts his hand on your chin, lifting it and tapping it as he speaks commandingly. “On your knees.”

You blink a few times in surprise and swallow your pride before you get up on your knees, tugging at the cold chains as you shift from your sitting position. Your core is fluttering even as you’re feeling like uncertainty is pressing down on your chest.

He smirks at your current position and tilts your head up, nudging you softly with his words. “Open wide. C’mon.”

You lick your lips as you look up at him with an expression juxtaposing what you’re feeling. Ready. In too deep, you’re seeing this through, letting him take you through the unknown. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.

“Eager for me, huh?” He strokes your chin tenderly, like you’re something to be handled carefully. “Good girl.”

You smile smugly with your eyes, keeping your mouth open, the last shreds of your restraint keeping you from giving fully into him.

The sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes through the warehouse interior. He slides it off, pulling down his jeans. You get a good look at the bulge straining against his boxers. God, he seems big. A bit of worry of you’ll fit him in your mouth comes over you.

He just grins at your hesitant frown and reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. His length is bobbing on his abdomen, red and angry, already leaking precum. You instinctively tilt your head and bite your lip at the sight. His bulge didn’t fool you about his size, and of course it’s as demanding and manly as the rest of him.

He looks at you sternly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

He’s taunting your doubts, and you might agree with the sentiment. You want to be so full of him you can’t think. You lick up the drops leaking from his slit, looking up at him with wide, pliant eyes.

He strokes the back of your head, sucking in a breath. “There we go.” He grips your hair and pulls you in the direction of his cock. You wrap your mouth around his tip, swirling your tongue, before you push in deeper.

He grunts. He grips your hair, his eyes shutting slightly at the sensation of your warm mouth. “Just like that, baby. So good.” He pats your cheek with his other hand.

You bob your head, setting up a steady pace. You inhale his musk as you take him in deeper each time.

He’s a mess of grunts and low moans. He grips your hair with both hands and starts thrusting into you with abandon. He hits the back of your throat and even as you gag, you close your eyes and moan, the vibration pleasant on his cock. He lit up a wildfire inside you. At this point, you’re helpless to stop it.

Even in his haze, he’s making sure to hold your head securely to keep you from falling backwards. He lets out a groan as he bucks into you, struggling to speak. “Takin’ me so well. You like chokin’ on it?”

You moan in approval. You’re getting off on being tied up and used like this, the ache in your core becoming almost unbearable. So intent on doing whatever he wants, you don’t care if it gets eased.

“’M not sure how long I can last.” He pulls out of your mouth slowly, the saliva stream connecting your mouth with his cock as he does. You open your eyes, looking up at him half-lidded, close to being completely spent. He strokes your cheek, scared he’s hurt you. “You okay?” His voice is tinged with warmth you didn’t expect.

You nod as you look into his hazel eyes, still devoid of emotion but attentive in their own way, glimpses of the man he must have been before the world hardened him.

“Where d’you want me?” He keeps stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“I want you inside me.” There’s almost a desperation in the way you look up at him, not sure if it’s for him to slide into you or to keep him giving these small crumbs of attention.

He nods as his gaze skims over your body slowly. As if he just remembered something, he stops in consideration. He orders, slight irritation at this thought ruining his fun in his voice. “Turn around.”

You narrow your eyes questioningly and hesitantly turn around to face the wall. Gripping your arm, he unties the chains around your wrists. Relief and confusion come over you. Is he going to...?

He is. You recognize the sound of keys clinking behind you before he turns the key in the lock keeping the chains to the pipe. The chains fall to the floor with a loud clang. You finally move your arms, sore and chafed by them, rubbing the marks.

Why would he let you go before you get to the good part? Wait... Guess there are invisible lines Joel won’t cross. As much as he liked the power he had over you, he wants you to have a choice in this. To know you’re doing this on your own accord, not to escape, not fearing for your life. This is just his test of that. He stands behind you for a few moments, gauging your reaction, watching whether you’re preparing to flee.

As you stand with your arms free, all your instincts tell you to run. But where to? Back in the arms of the boyfriend who makes you fear his betrayal every single day? It’s only a matter of time before his backstabbing tendencies are turned on you, you think.

To be fair, Joel is not the most reliable man to turn to next, but you decide to explore what has transpired between you further.

You turn around and look at him, his bulge still straining against his pulled up jeans, tilting your head and smiling knowingly. “Go on. I ain’t got all day.”

“Good. Thought you’d try to run.” He grins and nods, and you can see relief clearly painted on his face. “Woulda been a shame.” His voice takes on a lower and more confident tone.

He grabs your arms and moves you to the patch of brick beside the pipe you were locked to, pinning you to it. Your faces are close together and now you’re both smiling like two teenagers sneaking off to do something forbidden. He slides his tongue into your mouth again as you open it eagerly. You kiss briefly before his fingers slip past the waistband of your jeans inside your panties. He hums. “Already wet for me, aren’t you?”

You nod as you exhale in pleasure. “So wet.”

He parts your folds with his finger, not pushing in, just teasing. “Let’s see how wet you can get...”

Your core is throbbing and his touch keeps making it worse. Leaning your head back against the wall, you sigh. “Oh God...”

He smiles slyly as his fingers find your clit, rubbing teasingly. “Lucky bastard, Lucien... Gonna fuck you so hard you forget all about him.”

You look at Joel in surprise at mentioning him, too worked up to care at this point, perhaps even tempered by the anger and resentment you harbor for Lucien. Too late to turn back anyway, you think you like the way this is sticking it to him. A subtle sly smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

He takes his hand out of your jeans and begins undoing the button and zipper on them. As he does, your chest is rapidly rising and falling and you feel the heat spreading through your body, consuming you. You clutch onto his belt, undoing it once more along with his jeans and boxers. He hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down.

He taps the head of his cock to your clit, your arousal mixing. You move your hips instinctively for him to push in, but he makes sure to torment you for a moment longer, tapping it against you again.

“Joel...” You whine.

“You want it? I wanna hear you.” He pushes in just the head of his cock, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, I want it so badly. Please...” Before you’re even done begging, Joel can’t take it anymore and pushes all the way in. In one rough stroke, he’s fully inside you. Your breath’s almost knocked out and a slight sting from his size quickly turns into pleasure.

He stills for a moment, letting you adjust. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He slides out of you a bit before he slams back in. He sets a ruthless pace, each thrust pushing your hips to the wall and hitting deep inside of you. You lean against the cold brick, your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded, moaning. It’s almost animalistic, the way you’re both losing your bearings in this dirty warehouse.

“Atta girl. Take all of me.” He picks up speed as he presses closer to you, taking your nipple between his fingers through your shirt and pinching it, his voice husky and low. “Who’s fucking you harder than he ever did?”

“You, Joel.” The words come out of you without even thinking about them.

He grins proudly. “Damn right.” His hand reaches for your thigh, raising it slightly so it’s wrapped around his waist. The angle he’s thrusting at changes and you feel him hitting that delicious spot inside you that makes your vision blur. Now you’re a mess of gasps and moans.

He pounds into you relentlessly. “’M close. Gonna fill you up full of me.”

Too deep into the blissed out haze, you moan and nod, only thinking about how good it will feel. And it does. He buries his face in your shoulder as he fills you, hot pulses of his thick release pumped deep inside you. His cock is throbbing inside you as he empties himself. The sensations send you over the edge, and you lean your head back and moan as waves of pleasure crash over you.

He stays like that for a while as you both catch your breath. Sated and wrapped up around him, you close your eyes, coming down from the high. The tension from your initial meeting has dissolved, leaving you both light and boneless. You wrap your fingers in his hair, stroking it as he tries to gather his bearings.

There is not much to say after what’s already said and done, besides the question making your chest tighten as you both put your clothes back on. Is Joel going to brag to Lucien about this, more so – was this kind of payback his plan all along?

Something in your stomach twists at the thought that you were a pawn Joel successfully used in his game, but you don’t regret the way this has forced you out of the convenience of being by Lucien’s side.

As you zip up your jeans, your gaze falls back on Joel’s questioning expression. He can tell you’re lost in thought.

“Will you tell Lucien about this?” You say it with more bite than you intended, angry at the thought of being used.

He considers your question then shakes his head. “Won’t if you don’t want me to.” He grins. “Reckon it’s not my style anyway.”

Exhaling in relief and amusement, you nod. “Alright.” Your legs are sore as you head for the steel doors of the warehouse.

He raises his eyebrow at your abrupt exit and calls out. “We gonna see each other again?” He wants to, you can tell by his tone.

You turn around on your way out and contemplate whether you want to see him again. You connected physically but you feel like connecting emotionally with Joel would be an endless chase of something never to be caught. You’re so drawn to him. You don’t want to go. But you tilt your head as you answer bluntly with a smile. “No.”

He shrugs indifferently as the steel sliding door grinds while you open it. “Probably for the best.”

[otp-armada]

It’s totally fanfiction-y of me, but I have fantasized about someone reaching out to Bellamy after Clarke injected herself with nightblood, and it sending him into such a spiral that he speeds his way to Becca’s mansion. He finds her recuperating and explodes with worry and anger, demanding to know why she’s always stubbornly risking her life.

To rein in his feelings from a (supposedly) aborted love confession to blowing the lid clean off the compartment tamping them down, because he just can’t risk losing her, and the heat of the moment being what finally gets them both to confess?? And that leading to a nail-biter finale where Bellamy chooses not to listen to Clarke, staying with her instead???

Ohhh I think it’d have ATE. Maybe I just wanted the writers to make excellent use out of that gorgeous shower and bed 🤭

I don’t think it’s outside the realm of reason if the botched tent scene had similar circumstance. Clarke was gearing herself up to head into the lion’s den less than a day after he saved her from Josephine on a gambit that she could impersonate the latter to her parents, and if she failed, she’d be as good as dead. I can imagine the exhaustion on his wearied soul.

I think seasons 5 and 6 have such a tremendous effect on Bellamy, as his head is continuously clashing with his heart. Clarke vs Echo. Big brother vs his independence. Responsible leadership vs tearing himself apart to make his fragmented family happy and unified.

Something I take from his storyline in Season 6 is how it balances his head and heart in harmony. He’s offered an opportunity to ensure the survival of his people in hostile land with all the amenities they require, and all it would take is to do nothing as Josephine plots to delete Clarke’s code from the chip.

There’s an ethical question posed by the narrative about whether Earthkru deserves to survive if they’re willing to begin again on the blood of their own, particularly as they are refugees who fled Earth because their machinations wrecked the planet a second time.

But there’s a personal dilemma for Bellamy, too. If this is a game of numbers, one can argue that protecting the lives of the many outweigh the life of one.

Except it’s not a dilemma at all for him. Clarke’s alive, he’s getting her back, it’s a done deal. He must know that Clarke would be the first to martyr herself. He’s witnessed it firsthand, her penchant for sacrificing herself for others. I love that he draws the line by saying no. Screw rationalizing. He’s not losing Clarke any more than he’s willing to let Clarke voluntarily offer her life.

To me, this decision is the coda to 5x13 wherein Bellamy invokes Monty’s spirit and honors his wishes. Because Monty understood that survival is a hollow endeavor if you lose everything that gives life its worth.

Heart!Bellamy works in tandem with Head!Bellamy, as he makes his plans to get everyone out of Sanctum and leverage the chip to get their compound. Sure, his best laid plans all go to hell immediately, but the important thing is, he tried his best, y’know?

Ohhh the radio calls. The radio calls.

The radio calls are 2,199 testimonials that Clarke made Bellamy a consistent part of her daily life when he was a world removed from her. “They kept me sane,” when giving up was probably more conducive to preserving her sanity. She persisted in sharing her life with him as she could, undeterred by his physical absence. She expected nothing from those calls, not even an answer. It was simply vital she stay connected to him, immaterial that it was futile.

We only get hints of how difficult those six years were for Clarke after she found Madi. But if we try to fill the gaps…

Clarke and Madi are alone on a planet recovering from a global cataclysm. A calamity affecting the environment, the ecosystems, plant life, wildlife, severely limited resources, food shortages, etc. Infinite issues to be navigated by two people with finite compendiums of knowledge to navigate this bizarre new world.

Clarke is solely responsible for raising a little orphaned girl, previously sheltered from her village by her late parents. Madi lived amongst the bodies of her village for months at 6 years old. Her traumas are for Clarke to manage, a girl barely an adult herself with three lifetimes’ worth of her own ghosts to contend with. Because Clarke is the adult in this duo, there’s only so much she can share with Madi. Only so much emotional heft she can burden Madi with. And I can imagine that after the euphoria of finding another person to keep her company settles, Clarke realizes that she, Wanheda, conditioned by her life’s experiences to see herself as a bringer of death, is tasked with keeping this child alive.

It’s a lot for one person to deal with. I would bet that for every challenge and danger and haunted day in general, she picked up that radio to confess all to Bellamy. Asking for his guidance, his strength…

We could see that Clarke and Madi had good days, too. Fireside chats. Fishing. Portraits. Bedtime stories of heroes and villains. Winter frost giving way to spring berries. Bickering. Calm days filled with joyful laughter.

And I bet she told Bellamy all about those moments, too. Via the radio calls, she included him as the third member of their little family.

Clarke survived because she leaned on two people—-Madi AND Bellamy. And it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that when he asked her how she managed alone.

it's still so fascinating to me that bellarke was supposed to happen in 6x10/6x11, bob was informed of this, but then he received the script and it didn't happen. that's just so sketch. truly what was going on behind the scenes. it's just so WEIRD the more you think about it. also makes me wonder if that was the first time that had happened. i mean, we already know that there were changes to the 1x08 script to get rid of the line where bellamy asks clarke to run away with him, so i don't think it's that far outside the realm of possibility to think that there were other romantic lines/scenes that were cut throughout the series. i honestly think every season they probably toyed with the idea of them happening, wrote a first kiss or a confession or maybe an almost kiss, decided against it and thought hey actually let's push this to next season, drag it out a little longer.

[angelwishess]

Random funfacts about the Floyra kids bcs I need to ramble abt them!!!!

And Idk when I’ll be able to make their intro posts HELP

Just like her mama, Alora attracts creatures too! …Except, they aren’t cute, little forest critters, but instead terrifying monsterous beasts. Yeah…

She took the “Beast Tamer” thing literally it seems, because anytime theres a magical beast lurking around, Alora can somehow always manage to tame it. She thinks they’re “cute” and likes to dress them up! Just like how Kyra used to ask for assistance with the critters, Alora does the same with the beasts!

Alora is actually very talented in wrestling, and she may or may not have a sleeper build… (This was inspired by Japanese wrestler Mizuki!)

Evelio is actually the most prone to mood swings amongst the Leech siblings! Though he may be able to hide his emotions better than his painfully honest siblings, he’s still the most moody of the bunch.

Growing up, Kyra taught the kids to play chess. But not the traditional kind of chess, no— She taught them how to play ‘Chess Anarchy’. A silly version of the game where there are basically no rules. The only way to win was to create a better excuse than your opponent for the ridiculous moves you do.

Because of this, Marven used to always win at chess against Evelio. After all, he’s always been too creative for his own good!

Both twins were suprised when they found out there was a tradition version of chess and, surprisingly, even Evelio disliked it. The Leech siblings found the original game boring. The only reason Evelio even likes it a little bit, is because its the only time he can beat Marven at chess lmao

Chimere dyes her hair ALOT. Im talking new month, new hair color!! She just cant stick to one thing, and that goes for style, too! Her aesthetic is constantly changing, and its just as restless as she is!

Chimere is a busy body who likes to burn energy by taking on odd jobs around campus. Anyways, shes a Jack of All Trades and a ridiculously quick learner, and she uses that to her advantage all the time!

She’ll do a favor or two for you as well, if you have a good payment! …Money? Pfft! Of course not! She expects something cool or fun in return, maybe a part of your soda cap collection, or a random playing card. Your choice, just don’t make it “boring”.

Chimere is also a total party animal, and enjoys any kind of festivity! Honestly, its like she brings the party wherever she is though, her endless energy is simply infectious!

Chimere dabbles in ballet, too! She loves all dancing in general though, and thought it’d be fun to try a new style! Dancing is her favorite thing to do, after all!

Chimere is a Ribbon Eel! Yeah, Chimere was actually adopted by Kyra and Floyd! I decided to give them one more just because RibbonEel was one of Floyra’s possible other ship names, and thought the idea of Kyra and Floyd just randomly snatching up a kid with no parents was too funny to miss out on.

Maven is a flirt. It probably ties in with his whole ‘wannabe rockstar’ thing, but he just loves the swell of pride in his chest when he knows someone is charmed by him. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not a playboy! He won’t ever pursue any of the people he flirts with (well, except for one…), he just likes to flirt!

…However, Marven is actually quite ashamed of this ngl WHAHAHAH, only because he feels guilty when the thought of what his mama would think about it crosses his mind. He may be a flirt— but please don’t tell his mom!! He’d rather die than let her know!

Whenever shes around, Marven straightens up immediately! Buttoning up his blouse and acting like hes done nothing wrong… But Evelio knows. And he uses it as black mail 😭

While the twins are both in the Spelldrive Club, Marven has his own band! Hes a vocalist and plays electric guitar— his favorite! (Mostly because it makes him ‘look cool’.)

Marven… Really just likes anything that makes him look cool. Thats his reason for most things he does, honestly… (Evelio says hes pathetic LMFAO)

He may look rough around the edges but the truth is Marven is probably the nicest out of his siblings! No matter how tough he tries to act, if you ask him enough he’ll probably eventually cave and ‘bregrudgingly’ help out.

Alora may be eager to help out— but her unpredictability and eccentricity usually makes the whole situation go completely wrong. She does try her best, but… Her methods are rather strange.

Evelio is actually very unorganized. He can never find whatever he last put down, especially in his room.

Marven, on the other hand, is amazing at finding things! Its like he can find anything, really. (Evelio always has to ask for his help). His own room is unorganized too, but its more like organized chaos. He knows where everything is, he just doesnt bother to clean up if he doesnt feel like it HAHA

Marven is clingy as hell. He’d be one of those kids that check on his parents’ location on an app and call them if they leave without telling them anything😭😭

Evelio is actually the same way, but he just wont admit it.

Chimere is always on some random side quest. You can barely find her in the same place as before, always running off to go on some sort of adventure elsewhere. She seeks out fun and adrenaline just as much as Kyra did!

Alora loves LOVESS to jumpscare people. She’ll appear out of nowhere and spook them. Its all in good fun, though! In her eyes, they’re all just playing.