#PLAY WITCH'S HEART. THIS IS MY MESSAGE

[felikatze]

i don’t know what witch’s heart is but all this fanart you’re reblogging is banger after banger

GOOD THING I MADE THIS POWERPOINT PRESENTATION ABOUT IT FOUR YEARS AGO

You should play it. It's good. As you might be able to tell I've been replaying it in chunks w friends and all the characters are so insanely well written i for real cannot pick a favorite anymore I love all of them so much

Five people get trapped in a mansion together and there's demons and betrayal and murder but also silly haha funtimes until shit hits the fan. And it's that duality in how everything seems nice but goes downhill SO FAST that really manages to hook u on the characters

If it helps it's also set in a timeloop except the story is from the perspective of a person who has no fucking clue she's in a timeloop. Girl help.

ALSOO i think the amount of stuff u get to know about the timeloop n the characters is so well paced and the foreshadowing makes me wanna scream. In Bonus Stage, which is after the basic 4 scenarios, you get all the backstories for Everybody but it's still satisfying because you got so many hints and so much build up in the scenarios that everything just clicks into place it's (screams)

yeah so i was on again off again into it from 2020 to 2022 and now it's BACK BABEY

you can also play it for free. though you'll probably have to mess around with dpi settings a bit cuz the scaling on a 4k screen is TINY. after that we ball though. and the combat is ass. And the few bosses that exist eat bullets for breakfast. BUT IT'S ALL WORTH IT

you want to find out the context behind the banger fanart soooo bad

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader receives Wandas nudes accidentally

Word count: 780

Marvel Masterlist Wanda Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

  Today has been a really good day for Wanda. She’d nearly gotten the upper hand on Natasha for the first time while training early this morning, had gotten her favorite take out for lunch, then had been able to dress like an absolute bombshell for an undercover mission that she had finished in record timing. So it's really no surprise that she's still riding that adrenaline high even after her post mission shower. 

   Which is likely why she feels so confident upon seeing her body's reflection in the bathroom mirror. Feeling a little adventurous she decides to forgo her pajamas for now and she struts out into her bedroom. She grabs her phone off the top of her nearby dresser before settling herself on the middle of her bed. She's never done anything like this before, but she's seen enough saucy pictures online to know what to do.

   She takes one of her thighs clenched together and a couple of different angles of her breasts before she decides to take one that has her full body in the shot. She raises the phone up and angles it downward, allowing it to capture an aerial view of her kneeling on her bed. Satisfied with how it turned out she makes sure to save it before opening her messages to reply to you. She had to admit she had a huge soft spot for you, so having you check in on her after missions never failed to warm her heart and make her smile.

  After replying she tosses her phone over onto her pillow before getting up to actually put something on. What she hadn’t realized was that she never closed out of her conversation with you, and somehow this gentle toss had hit enough buttons to send her last nude to you

   In the compound's kitchen you squeeze past Sam in order to grab your container of take out from last night that you wanted to reheat. You had been glad to hear that Wanda's mission had gone well and without any problems whatsoever, and you can’t deny the feeling of giddiness that flows through you as you hear another message come through from her

   You pull out your phone and open the message only to be greeted by the shock of a lifetime. The brunette was absolutely bare in the photo and the sight proves to be enough to cause you to panic. You let out a small squeak of surprise as you simultaneously slam the refrigerator door shut and close your messages. You nervously glance over to find Sam, Tony and Natasha all looking at you already, each with an eyebrow raised in question. You nervously give them a nod in form of greeting before promptly exiting the room and making a beeline for a certain witches room. 

   You honestly had no idea if you were even meant to see what you had, for all you knew this was just another, albeit extreme, way she had chosen to tease you as you were certain she had to know by now of your feelings. There was no way you've been able to keep all your thoughts quiet. Not when Wanda was involved.  But regardless of the whys your body seemed to be moving on autopilot to go and get your desired answer, as well as berate the woman for this extreme

   “Wanda!” you shout as your knuckles tap the wood of her door

   Her door opens quickly to reveal her, only now she's dressed in her fuzzy warm pajamas instead of being naked. Which is a relief to you because you're sure you would have keeled over otherwise. You're quick to speak before she can say anything

   “I was in the kitchen Wans! You can’t just send things like that!”

   Confusion clouds her features “I can’t tell you my mission went well?”

   “Don’t play dumb” you plead, “My problem was with your nude not your endearing message”

   You watch her entire face and neck turn pink as her eyes go wide, and it’s only then that you realize this wasn’t some scheme of hers but an actual accident. Which only amuses you. Seems the universe has given you an opportunity to be the one doing the teasing for once

   “My- my nude?” she asks, barely above a whisper

   “Oh, you didn’t send it purposely.” you say with a faux pout. Her breath catches in her throat as she then watches your eyes drink her in as your tongue darts out to wet your lip, “Thats a shame”

    It’s only after you've started to walk away that Wanda's brain begins to function, and she nearly yells after you, “Wait! Y/n!”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastorm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2 @esposadejoyhuerta @mathxa @reginassweetheart

[izvmimi]

cw: breakup mention. alcohol use. hurt/comfort.

When Katsuki shows up to the exact location you provided him, just minutes after you’d called him out of the blue at 3 am, not even the excuse of being under the influence available to you given the three pathetic sips you’ve had of the can of beer in your right hand, you realize you hadn’t exactly thought this far.

You hadn’t expected him to pick up, and you hadn’t intended on leaving a message. Not from a number he couldn’t possibly know given you’d changed it about two years ago, and definitely not from you, not after the way you’d severed ties with him abruptly and mercilessly. 

In his opinion.

… Okay, perhaps yours, too.

You had expected the half-groggy, half-livid way he’d answered, the hothead in him not immune to a call that would annoy literally anyone with a modicum of sense, but you hadn’t expected his voice to so immediately soften at the sound of yours, to recognize you so readily even.

And now watching him touch down from the sky to where you sit on a park bench, just several feet away from a 24 hour convenience store, you realize you’re not sure what to say.

Still, you’re happy to see him. Enough so, that for a moment, you blink back tears in your eyes, precluding you from seeing how uncharacteristically gentle his red ones are. 

He tries to play it cool, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark gray sweatpants, a slight hunch in his back accentuated by the snug fit of a black hoodie. A skull insignia covers the front, and you wonder if he’ll ever grow up. 

That was one of your points of contention when you were once an item. Growing up. 

“Hey.”

Katsuki is careful; reticent in his speech as he moves towards you, and you can see him ponder before he takes a seat by your side. You clutch the can of beer in your hand a little tighter, resting your arm upon the knees you’ve folded and raised onto the seat of the park bench. His posture is still closed, hands in his pockets, and he stares straight ahead. He lets out a sigh.

“Why’d you call? Get dumped or something?”

You scoff as you say, “yes.”

Katsuki did not actually expect you to say that and turns to look at you, which has you amused, if only for a second. You’re not drunk, but you sure are acting it, you think, but perhaps madness from your bout of depression is really settling in.

“Months ago, though,” you add. You take another sip of your beer, and he watches you wince. He knows you’re not actually a fan of it at all, and plus there’s nothing intelligent or safe about drinking in the middle of the night without a companion, without a definite way home. 

He remembers he actually doesn't know where your home is these days.

“Why did you need to see me?” he asks firmly now, his eyes still focused on the can because he’s afraid of looking at your face and letting old love resurface.

You smile and look at him, resting your head on your knees.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” you admit.

“You called.”

In another world, he’d then roll his eyes at you, but tonight he looks at you steadily and seriously. Perhaps he's the one who has matured, and you haven’t. He remains your longtime crush and your longtime crutch, even now, as you feel yourself lose your grip on sanity, embracing madness, regardless of how transient it might be.

It’s quiet for a few more moments, save for the rustling of leaves as the winds of the witching hour pick up between you, and you let out a soft sigh, realizing he won’t say anything else to fill the silence. Letting your feet fall flat to the ground, you shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought of you,” you admit. 

Katsuki’s eyes slide away from you quickly, his fingers curling around the edge of the seat at his sides, as if bracing himself.

“It’s been years,” he reminds you. You nod, without looking at him.

“My heart remembers.”

It’s cheesy and he doesn’t mock you for it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I see.”

You’re suddenly embarrassed, face warmed from toes to nose. He sees. What does he see? That you’re pathetic? That you’re needy? That perhaps you were wrong all these years and even if he’s flown back to see you, you’re the one crawling back to him? 

You remain in disquiet now, your arms wrapping around yourself for support. You can hear it now -  If you wanted someone to pat your ass, should have called damn Deku or Kirishima. I’m not a goddamn booty call. You lost your chance with me ages ago. Don’t fucking call me again.

Instead, he takes the can of beer you’ve set beside you and takes a sip first, then downs it as you watch. Just as soon as he’s done, he crushes the can and throws it into the nearest recycling bin. 

He doesn't miss.

“You’re not an alcoholic. No use pretending to drown your sorrows,” he says. “Either talk about them or don’t. I’m already up anyway.”

It’s not meant to be a joke or a jab, just a statement. 

You’re surprised for a moment but an unwitting smile comes to your lips.

“Are you sure you want to hear me complain in the middle of the night? I have a lot to say.”

Katsuki gives you a look, a raised eyebrow reminding you not to ask any more silly questions, and it almost makes you laugh.

As if you intend to be considerate now of all times.

“Well, it all began with the day I was born…”

He lets out the softest of groans and lets his head hang back in a dramatic fashion, arms still crossed over his chest, and legs spread. This time your laugh is loud.

It’s unfair and unreasonable that he still makes you laugh without trying.

And yet he does anyway, and he listens to you speak until the sun comes up.

[hyewka]

please, noona | c.sb

summary; your brother forbids you from talking to any of his friends when they come over. in his words, you'd seduce them and take away their 'innocence' as if you were a witch in hunt for dick every second of the day. he's especially strict about soobin, his similarly nerdy best friend that comes over every other day to play games.

which sucks because that meant you had to be stuck in your room very often...until beomgyu finally leaves to quickly buy some snacks.

warnings; perv!soobin, titty sucking, soobin's sorta a himbo, noona kink, big useless dick, dry humping (is it a hyewka fic without dry humping???) soobins obsessed with tits, creampie, mentions of a breeding kink, soobin cums a lot, use of pet names, and of course sub!soobin + brief appearance of ex!yeonjun

You never understood why you had to be the one locking yourself in a room as if you weren't the one paying rent, and out of the kindness of your heart, let your hobo brother freeload off you. He should've been the one staying in his room instead of hogging the living room with his loser friends, but alas, you took the the role of the older sister, and let the boy do his shenanigans (for as long as your patience can handle, which you now think won't be very long).

Today was one of those days where you got comfortable on your couch, every limb of your body relaxing, in your pajamas that consisted of a lousy tank top and shorts. You don’t get these days often, most of your time spent wearing ugly work pantsuits. But of course, the comfort doesn’t last long—all of a sudden, Beomgyu's yelling for you to go to your room because someone's coming over. Again.

You’re about to take your stance, because fuck that, but he pulls you up like the little bitch he is and pushes you into a room, shutting the door before you could say another word.

"Fuck you Beomgyu! I swear to fucking god I'll kick your ass to the curbs tomorrow!" you yell at the closed door.

"No you wouldn't!" he yells back, and you raise a trembling fist in the air as if he could see, gritting your teeth, but drop it when you realize the little damned troll was right. You wouldn't go through with your promise any time soon, let alone tomorrow— you coddled your little brother too much.

When you defeatedly turn around, you immediately notice he put you in the wrong room, which pisses you off more. His room. The place was gross, clothes you're sure haven't been washed in ages discarded all around the room. Mostly on the floor.

You tiptoe to the bed, trying to avoid as much of the dirty underwear and socks, hesitantly sitting on his bed as if it was infested with bugs. Which was likely.

What you usually spend your time doing at times like these is a mindless scroll through your social media, effectively ignoring the unread messages. But when you pat around for a feel of your phone, you find your pockets are empty. You throw your head back, groaning. You left it on the couch because of how haste Beomgyu was being.

Sometimes a nap would do when he took too long to call it a day with his friends. This time, you almost fall asleep staring at the poster on the ceiling, until you figure out the voices that transcended through your walls. It was only Beomgyu and Soobin today, which meant that this might take the entire day.

Fucking great.

"It's down the street, I think." you open a shut eye, eavesdropping in what your brother was saying. Were they finally leaving? "Wait, hold on, I'll come back."

It's silent until suddenly, the door's pushed open, Beomgyu poking his head in. His brows are furrowed, one of confusion, "Why're you in my room?" You want to yell he pushed you into his shit bedroom but he shakes his head quickly, cutting off your incoming scolding,  like he was in a hurry. "Ya noona, that local convenience store's still open right?"

You roll your eyes. "Lotte mart? That's not local."

He deadpans. One thing about younger siblings was that they are impatient little shits. "Yeah, it's still open." you reply.

Not even a thanks, and he's gone. Which you expected— the exact reason you lied. They closed the location a few weeks back. He'd have to walk to the other closest convenience store, which was at least an hour away.

Serves him right.

The moment you hear the door closing shut, you get up from the bed, immediately heading out of the suffocating bedroom, and head to the living room to retrieve your phone. You don’t expect to see Soobin still there, focused on his phone—assuming he was going to head out with Beomgyu.

He senses someone’s here, so curiously he looks up and meets your eyes, then his widen like he’s been caught doing something wrong.

“H-hi noona.” he quips.

You wave, giving him a quick smile– you definitely found him adorable …but you weren’t in the mood to get scolded by Beomgyu for talking to the boy. So you keep it short, walking to get your phone which rested on the arm rest to the right of Soobin.

“Hey Soobin. Just here to get my phone.”

He tucks his chin in at the proximity when you reach over him to grab your phone—you can even hear him gulp. Probably because your tits were hanging right in front of him. You give him a quick glance, tilting your head after you successfully retrieve your phone in hand.

Unfortunately, he was adamant on keeping his eyes on the TV screen, which had a game paused, so he practically stared into nothingness. You wish you had guys as cute as Soobin when you were attending college. Instead you were stuck with cocky frat boys who expected a fuck after getting you a shitty drink.

“You’re leaving?”

You halt before looking over your shoulder, “Yeah, taking a nap.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah…um, goodnight—I mean, have a good sleep, or sorry, have a good nap.”

You break into a grin, nodding at the boy. What a loss that he just had to be friends with Beomgyu.

Your legs still midway into the narrow hallway.

You don't have to lock yourself in your room. Beomgyu was gone. In fact, he'll be gone for the next three hours and that wasn’t in account of his turtle-like pace, if your estimation was correct.

You’re a data analyst for a living, of course your estimation’s correct.

So, you go back, trace your steps, and make yourself comfortable. On your own couch, in your own apartment. It’s ridiculous how rare you got the chance to do just that.

Soobin doesn’t ask questions, but he does end up straightening his posture the moment you plop down next to him. “Can you pass me the remote?” You gesture towards it with your chin.

He nods, quickly getting it for you. You hesitantly take it from him, feeling bad. Poor boy, it’s like you were making him uncomfortable with your presence. So you give him a break, scooting away, making the gap between you both awkwardly big.

“You don’t mind me watching, right?” you look at his face for a response. You could totally drop your show if he didn’t want to sit through it– you wanted to give him the option. Though to be fair, knowing Soobin as much as you did (which was admittedly limited, but he was easy to read), you’re sure he’d let you watch even if he did mind.

Which is exactly what happens as he shakes his head, “No, no, it’s okay.” You peer at him before shrugging and opening Netflix.

Unfortunately, as much as you try your best to focus on the drama, Soobin’s polite posture and silence bothers you. Usually, whenever the rare occasion of bumping into Beomgyu’s friends in the hallway happens, they try to strike up a conversation. But Soobin was rather…modest. Too modest.

You pause the show.

“Soobin.” With his name called, he immediately looks over at you. “You know you can talk to me right? I'm not the evil witch my brother paints me as, I promise.”

His eyes are wide, waving his hand in denial, still as formal as ever. “No, it’s—it’s not like that Noona! I know. I know I can talk to you, I mean. Beomgyu tells me you’re nice.” You tilt your head– you doubt that was true.

But you don’t bother. “Oh. Okay, great!” you pull up your legs on the couch, turning your full body to face him. “So, tell me Soobin, are you an introvert?”

He seems startled, like he didn’t expect you to actually start a conversation but it doesn’t last long as he nods meekly. “Y-yeah, sort of.”

“Mm, makes sense. You don’t really make eye contact when talking.” The moment the realization hits Soobin, you huff out a laugh at how fast he turns his head to look at you, his ears noticeably red.

“S-sorry Noona.”

You click your tongue, a little disappointed at how he was still so formal with you. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know? I’m only like, three years older than you.” It takes him a few seconds before he nods, though you could tell by the appearance of a dimple, that he wasn’t going to let the formal language go.

Oh well. You’ll work with it. “So, Soobin. Question. How come you’re a completely different person when playing games? You’re loud, but when in a conversation, your voice is as soft as it can be humanely hearable.”

He’s noticeably embarrassed as his face flushes. “You–you heard me?”

You chuckle, “It’s a little hard not to.”

Soobin isn’t louder than Beomgyu, but was very darn close. Which is a feat considering someone two floors above you came over to complain about Beomgyu once.

“I’m sorry, I–I don’t mean to. I’ll be careful next time.”

You furrow your brows, before lightly slapping his shoulder. “Hey, stop apologizing. I’m just joking around, I really don’t mind. Sort of already used to it.”

“Still—”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “Let’s talk about something else. Um…oh! Do you have a girlfriend?” you teasingly drawl the girlfriend bit like a middle school boy, in attempt of making him a tinge more comfortable.

He’s meek again, biting the inside of his cheeks before he lets out a quiet no.

You gasp at the revelation, a hand shooting up over your mouth. “But you’re so handsome! How come?”

You definitely played it up a bit— you weren’t that shocked that he wasn’t dating considering how often he came over and how long he stayed.

He gets flustered once more, and finally, a small smile appears. “I don’t know. Probably because I’m horrible at flirting. And probably not that handsome.”

You pout, “Not that handsome? ’M being completely honest, I think you’re the cutest guy I’ve seen in a while.”

He flushes, playing with his hands. “Yeah... cute not handsome”

You got closer to him somehow so you’re able to give him a light nudge. “Handsome too idiot.”

He smiles, looking at you with so much adoration you could just pinch his cute cheeks.

The entire time you spend talking to him felt a little more chill, his posture relaxing along with the flow of conversation being a little more natural— though you still carried it most of the time.

You found out he liked a number of things. Anime, manga, collecting figures, obviously gaming. All things you usually assumed to be a little nerdy, but it was cute how he lit up talking about his favorites regardless. You find out he’s majoring in chem too, which you would have never guessed.

You also find out Soobin might just be the most obvious peeker; truly terrible at being discreet.

You really had a hard time not laughing every time you caught his eyes so obviously looking down at your cleavage, which you forgot was so revealing through the tank top you wore. More than once does he subconsciously wet his lips before he tries to pretend like he was listening to you talk.

You understand why Soobin was friends with Beomgyu rather quickly. Most of Beomgyu’s friends were greasy pervert losers. Soobin not any different, you figured. Except it was cute on him.

"Beomgyu said you had a boyfriend.” he mumbles, the longest eye contact he’s held with you the entire time you’ve been talking to him.

You tilt your head. "…I don't? I haven't dated anyone since Yeonjun." at his silence, you figure he's not one of your girlfriends who knew the ins and outs of your dating history, "Which was four months ago."

His lips form an O shape, nodding slowly.

"Did you ask him? Why? Were you curious?" you tease, and enjoy the way Soobin stumbles on his words, cheeks quickly running hot. "N-no, he just told me."

You hum knowingly. Before you know it, you ramble about another topic but like the shameless boy he is, you catch how his eyes trail down again. This time, you decide to end it, it’s clear he wanted something so you clear your throat. The conversation was slowly dying anyway.

His eyes snap back up almost immediately, cheeks still a bright shade of pink. “Um s-so…”

“I was talking about my favorite boba place just now.” His iris panics before he chuckles nervously, “Y-yeah. That.”

You smile looking down at his hands and take a notice of how big they are. Your finger trails to one, fingertip running circles on his palm.

He’s startled by the sudden contact, but doesn't pull away immediately. “Girls at school would probably ruin that pretty face of yours if they caught you staring at their tits so openly.”

His eyes shoot wide open, pulling his hands from you like you just poured boiling water on it. “I wasn't–”

You cut him off. “I should've counted but it was probably a hundred times I've seen you look, pervert.”

His face is so red, he truly looked like a tomato. You also catch the glistening of his waterline, his lower lip quivering. “I'm sorry Noona please don't be mad I—“

“Good thing I'm not a girl from school, huh?" You're quick to stop his rambling, not in the mood to be the cause of someone's tears. "Do you want to see them?”

His brows perk up almost immediately, the crease of his forehead apparent, doe eyes looking at you so intently.

“My tits. Wanna see them?”

He nods profusely before he shoots up a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, was that a trick question? I’m sorry—”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Adorable.” you coo, booping his nose. He frowns at that.

"I'm not a kid noona, you always—" he cuts himself off when you grip the hem of your tank top, pulling them over your bare breasts swiftly, showing them to the younger boy. You relish in his reaction, ends of your lips twitching up at the way his mouth falls open, licking them as he openly stares.

God, he was such a pervert.

“Can I...can i—" his words fall dry.

“You wanna touch?”

“Please noona.”

You shrug. He scoots closer, cold hand hesitant on your breasts, sending goosebumps on your skin with the touch. “Soobin, its okay, you can touch them”

He prepares both hands above your breasts before finally holding them. He feels by a few squeezes and then he starts playing, fondling like he's never seen a pair before.

His breathing gets heavier the rougher he squeezes, and especially when his thumb glazes over your nipple, which is the confirmation you got.

He was a total loser.

You hold his wrist, getting Soobin to stop, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he slowly pulls away, wiping the slight drool on the corner of his lips. “Was I too rough—?”

"A little, but I don't mind." You get on him, straddling his lap. Soobins big eyes look up at you, gulping at the possibility that you'll let him do what he thinks you'll let him do.

You feel the bulge between your legs and laugh. "You got hard from touching me? Big baby."

He frowns, "I'm not a baby."

"Oh really?" You grab the back of his head, and shove his face between your chest. Sure enough, Soobin's mouth already latches onto one of your nipples, starting to suck. "See? You're such a filthy pervert, already sucking the moment I give you the chance."

He's stupid enough to muffle out a thank you as if letting him suck was like handing him water at deserted desert. Your shirt is over his head as his face was buried in between your chest, spit already all over it— he was incredibly messy. A bead of sweat breaks out, running down his forehead.

You're startled when he goes over to your left breast, not letting it go without attention. His tongue flicks your nipple then he starts sucking harshly making you hiss. “Hey��hey! Soobin, not too rough.”

He doesn't respond nor does he relent, very obviously busy with sucking on your nipple, his other hand having free reign on your chest. You take a hold of his hair and pull him off you, his face coming into full view, lips glistening with spit. He was a mess. "Soobin, be gentle. I'm serious."

He nods and you sigh, his head once again eagerly going under your shirt. His hips start bucking into you, trying to get off, and you're sure your chest is entirely covered with hickeys-- your nipples hard and sore from all his sucking. “Wanna be inside noona, wanna be inside you." he manages to moan, voice muffled against your chest.

You close your eyes shut when you feel his bulge pressed against your clothed slit, moving just slightly to get yourself off a little too. “Yeah? Wanna fuck me?” You feel the earnest nod of his head and it makes you pout fondly. You decide to throw him a bone, you were pretty hot and bothered anyway.

"Okay baby, I'll let you."

You've never had a man be so eager to fuck you, or for better words, be fucked by you. But that could be explained by your dating history being mostly if not all, tatted macho men who liked being nonchalant. Maybe you should fuck losers more often.

By losers, you mean cute ones like Soobin.

His dick looked intimidating when you ordered for him to take it out- the swollen tip, concerningly red, precum already leaking down the veins of his fat dick and... shit that length might break you.

He's visibly embarrassed. “Um, if its too much then you don't have to—“

You position yourself on top of him again, giving him a reassuring smile. "I can take it.”

His eyes are glistening, the living room already dark due to the lack of the previous sunlight-- it was already noon. You figure you like it when guys look up at you like you had the entire world lying on your hand- your brother's best friend's working like an awakening in weird ways.

You finally sink down on him, letting out a sigh the more his length disappears into your cunt, stretching you out all the more, already hitting places you weren't sure would hit.

His pliant head falls back on the couch when he feels the warmth of your pussy- his jaw slacked, drool trickling down his chin as he lets out a strained moan. "Noona, noona I—"

The flaring of his nose is the last hint before you feel his hot semen spurt out inside you, and just when you think it's over, you feel a little more shooting up. You stare at the boy quizzically- you hadn't even moved yet and he already came.

Soobin raises his head, lower lip quivering, so obviously embarrassed by his premature orgasm. "I-i'm sorry noona, I didn't mean to- oh my god, what's gonna happen now? I can't take care of a baby I'm still in c-"

"Woah woah, Soobin, calm your ass, I'm on the pill."

He looks at you silent with a few confused blinks, before letting out an exhale of relief. You're still practically sitting on his dick, but you still find it in you to tease him after his panic ensues, "What? Were you gonna abandon me after impregnating me? Didn't think you'd be the type Soobin. Maybe even good boys can be such bitches."

The panic returns into his eyes as he shakes his head adamantly denying your attack of his character, "No! Noona, I wouldn't do that, I swear! I-i-"

"You what?" you cut him off harshly on purpose, slowly raising yourself to finally ride his twitching cock.

He immediately senses the movement, your attempt of being slow and careful failing. He squeezes his eyes shut, and you hiss disapprovingly. "Answer your noona Soobin, what would you do if you got me pregnant?"

"W-would take care of you." He whines when you fall back on his dick, a staggering breath out his mouth. You're not sure if he could even last a mere five minutes of you riding him.

"Yeah? Open your eyes for me baby."

He does as you say, though his lids are heavy over his eyes. His gaze once again finds your chest lewdly staring at the slight bounce, and before you know it, his hands are kneading your breasts again. "I would pamper you up noona, take you to all the five star restaurants." he breathes out.

You snort at his foolish promises, "With what money idiot? If anything, I'd be the one pampering you up, you're still a college student with student debt. You'd have to start working a lot more if you'd want to pamper me."

His eyes roll back when you speed up your pace on his dick for a brief second, "F-fuck, Noona--"

You feel his cock twitching inside you, and once again, strips of his cum rush into you. You wondered how much before you milked him dry? Because the boy was still as eager as ever, head going forward in attempt to latch his mouth on your nipple again, hips bucking up against your already steady pace. "I'd work ten shifts to provide for you and- mmf-- and our baby noona." he cutely muffles against your nipple.

You laugh—he was as naive as ever, but you appreciated the thought. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Your finger twirls a strand of his black hair, the innocent act in direct opposition of the filthy sound of skin on skin, combined with Soobin's fresh load making it a lot more squelching, that bounced of the walls.

"Soobin, g-good boy, suck my tits like a good boy." Your breathing gets heavier, the way he fills you up is turning out to be a lot more addicting than you thought it'd be. You assumed pain, which yeah, it still was a little painful, but you got used to it very quickly able to start feeling the pleasure overwhelm your senses.

Soobin pulls away from your chest with a pop, slowly raising his head over your shirt to look at you. "Noona?" he calls out with half lidded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"You really don't have a boyfriend right?"

You're caught off guard with the question. Obviously if you had a boyfriend you wouldn't be riding his fucking dick.

He catches your miffed look and is quick to defend himself despite your pussy clenching around him, "I-it's just-hah! Fuck- noona, it's just someone was blowing up your phone earlier- and I didn't mean to peek but- cumming, I'm cumming noona!" he cries out, successfully letting out his words before he actually orgasms.

You had picked up your pace with every word he spoke, attempting to not ruin your own high, and sure enough, you reach it, cumming in unision with Soobin's, your head exhaustedly falling onto his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

Under you, Soobin's body was shaking, still feeling spurts of his cum. "The contact name was Yeonjun."

Your daze snaps, head shooting up at the mention of your ex. "What?"

"He kept on calling so I thought that might've been your boyfriend...but then you told me he was your ex." he replies, voice hoarse you think as a result of his rather loud whines earlier.

"I wasn't lying Soobin, he really is my ex."

"I-i wasn't accusing you of lying it's just...I don't know, I thought that maybe..."

Your subconscious drowns out Soobin's rambling, still confused that Yeonjun was ringing you up in the first place. What for? Did he leave something that he forgot to take four months ago?

That wasn't likely. You remember the day he came over to take his things very vividly. With how urgently he looked, you figured Yeonjun was serious about his belongings.

So, what was it?

With Yeonjun, it was on and off. In a way that surely couldn't be healthy for either party involved. Which is the exact reason you mutually decided to break it off a few months ago, cutting off all contact. You even blocked his socials. Each one. Instagram, snapchat, twitter, facebook.

Except for the most important, most relevant way of contact- his phone number, of course. And look how that decision bit you in the ass. You're totally overthinking why Yeonjun decided to call you, and you will when you go to sleep later today, and then the day after and-

You're not falling down that rabbit hole again.

You start moving your hips again pushing through the uncomfortable feeling. Soobin was less resilient, a disapproving whine coming from the back of his throat when you grind in his lap, his dick still deep inside you rubbing between your walls. "Noona--" he shrieks, when you start bouncing again, this time a lot harshly as you bit down on your lip.

"No more, can't- nng-" you shut up his blabbles by stuffing your breast in his mouth again. Of course it did the job.

"Filthy boy, you'd probably enjoy sucking my tits when I'm lactating."

His teary eyes look up at you, needy and twinkling under the dim light that was the living room. He wasn't denying it. Instead, he swirls his tongue around your bud, clearly getting off the thought.

"Fuck, you really are filthy." you breath out. Speeding up your pace, Soobin's unable to stay latched onto your nipple, jaw-slacked, his brows pointing upwards, unable to urge you to stop. Instead, he helps you out by bucking his hips forward, slamming his dick inside you.

A knock on the door gets you to halt your movement. Soobin still moving erratically under you. But then you slap him gently, trying to get his attention. “I think i heard—“

The knock of the door cuts you off. Facing Soobin with a wide eyed look before you jolt off him, hurriedly looking for your underwear and shorts. You lost track of time, clearly! If Beomgyu finds out you fucked his best friend, you'd be done for. He'd hate you for life. Never talk to you again.

“Soobin hurry the fuck up and go answer!” You shout in a hushed voice, frantically pulling up your shorts.

He nods, the panic contagious as he stumbles around pulling up his pants. You take a second to look over him and you curse under your breath. His cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips glistening with spit, hair strands poking out all over- fuck, he looked bad.

You attempt to pat his hair down, at least to make it a little neater, but a third knock and you're sprinting towards a room, hiding behind your shut door.

You press your ears against your door, hoping to pick up how the conversation was going. A few beats of silence, and you finally hear the unlocking of the door after a few struggling attempts from Soobin.

“Who are you?" you furrow your brows- that wasn't your brother. "Oh wait, are you one of Beomgyu’s friends?”

It was Yeonjun.

At the realization, you crack your door open, trying to peek down the hallway. You didn't have a good view but you figured it'd do.

“Yeah? Who are you?” you hear Soobin ask, his breathing sounding like he just ran a marathon. You squeeze your eyes shut- could he at least try to mask what just happened? Be a little less obvious?

“Tell Y/N for me I came over. Say it was Yeonjun.” You catch the way Yeonjun's eyes visibly look up and down the younger boys state, wondering if he caught on. “Her boyfriend. Tell her her boyfriend came over.”

Soobin bites the insides of his cheeks in attempt to not bark back at the lie, opting to just nod. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Yeonjun nods, flashing him a smile before patting his shoulder. “You look rough buddy, take care.”

Sure enough, Beomgyu shows up right then and you out of instinct close your door shut when you recognize his mop hair. Though it seemed no matter what, you couldn't escape his annoyingly blaring voice. "Oh? Yeonjun? Hey dude, haven't seen you in a while."

Yeonjun greets him like they've been close since forever... which is total bogus, they barely talked. Yeonjun finally excuses himself because he was 'just leaving'. Leaving Soobin and Beomgyu alone.

You once again try to pry in their conversation, praying Soobin could play off the way he looked and you could finally head to the comfort of your bed.

"Sorry I took long, my bitch sister lied to me. Deadass had to walk five hours to get these- You good Soobin? You look sick."

You briefly smirk sinisterly at the fact that you got Beomgyu's ass, but then the cold sweat breaks out again because the stupid fuck noticed! And now, you're impatiently tapping your foot on the floor, awaiting Soobin's response.

"Yeah dude, sorry, um, I-I have to go use the bathroom."

Internally you slap your palm on your forehead- to hell with being convincing. Consequences of choosing Soobin out of all of Beomgyu's friends to fuck you guess.

a/n; feedback (or a reblog) is always appreciated on my end lol need me someone to talk about soobin and his breeding kink because it's definitely there. oh and how hes the biggest boob guy..i dont make the rules!!!

[agatharkn3ss]

Lilia Calderu is extremely important (Spoilers)

Lilia says in ep.5 that she "reads people" and she "reads time". But she is much more than that, she just doesn't know it yet.

I believe Lilia Calderu is Fate itself - or Fate of this coven at least.

You can see the background of Patti's end credit is the tarot table. This is going to be her air trial in episode 7. But do you also see the word "Fate"? Circled in red?

Now... Doesn't that remind you of something? Like maybe... "Circle sewn with Fate"?

Oh and what else does Lilia do? That's right, her side hustle "Lilia's Leggings"! The motif of sewing around Lilia is repeated throughout episode 2 - she has a sewing machine in her kitchen/bedroom and when she starts singing the ballad, there are big thread spools in her background. Could they be any more obvious?

Without Lilia, there would be no coven. She is the one who sends the list of names to her past self so that they can form their circle.

I am convinced she will do this as part of her trial. She will be doing a tarot reading and sending messages to the past events, trying to find the right time - just as she uncovers her tarot cards - and yes, that's including the broken line "Alice don't try to save Agatha".

If you want to know more about how I think those messages will be send, I have described the detail in this post.

The tarot cards that have been used so far give us insights into the story - not just because of their tarot meanings, but also because the images on those cards correspond exactly to the moments when Lilia said their names out loud.

These are the scenes as seen through Fate's eyes.

Three of Pentacles has the coven singing the Ballad. Three of Swords is the moment before Teen is healed - they are in the woods, on the purple Road and Lilia sees Agatha's heart being broken three-fold (because of Rio, Nicky and now Teen). High Priestess is exactly how Lilia first met Jen - with the rays coming out of the painting behind her. And finally, the Knight of Wands is standing in exactly the same stance as Alice was when she saved Agatha.

The rest of the cards, although not named in the show yet, will likely make appearance in her trial. Queen of Cups bears striking resemblance to young Lilia. Death is holding a dagger and a black heart, and is surrounded by flowers... And finally, there is the Tower card. Which is going to be about the her tarot (Air) trial.

You can read more about my predictions on how her episode 7 trial will go in this post.

But essentially, the members of the coven will be dressed up as the evil witches from the pop culture, while Lilia will be in white - like Glinda the Good Witch. So it looks like Lilia will need to confront those negative stereotypes yet again. She will also understand, that although she predicted tragedies in the past, she actually has the power to predict something good, even control it.

There will be swords sticking out of the ceiling and falling down to the floor - probably serving as a time reminder. You can see those swords in the poster above too. There is another poster - that resembling the cover of "The Crucible" - a play about the Salem witch trials. Again, we see the "thread" elements clearly here.

Unfortunately, we know that Salem Seven manage to get inside the trial too. I think once Lilia completes her task to finish the tarot reading and deliver the list to the past, she will then flip the sand timer - another reminder that she can, in fact, control time. Unfortunately, flipping the timer will also mean that the whole tower room they are in, will also flip upside down. We see Lilia and Salem Seven floating up. Sadly, I think that means that they will end up impaled on those swords? We can't see anyone else from the coven.

The Tower card seems to suggest people floating, but there is also a blue crown being toppled off the top. I wonder what that means for Billy.

That last shot breaks my heart!

But to finish on a different note, there is even more to Lilia Calderu.

You see, every tarot card has this little squiggle in the corner. Looks familiar?

I believe, after all this, that it is Lilia who puts the sigil on Teen - again, this maybe done in retrospect, when she sends her messages from the future. She knows that Teen's identity must be hidden or Agatha never becomes interested in what he has to say. And maybe others' decisions would change too if they knew. Maybe he needs protecting from the Salem Seven, because he is the son of the Scarlet Witch (that Salem witches call the Harbinger of Chaos and wanted to attack Wanda). Or even protection from Lady Death herself - because if she found out he was literally a ghost, reincarnated, she would want the body to restore the order?

So, in her true style, she literally SEWS the sigil onto Billy's mouth.

Lilia Calderu, what a legend. She is FATE.

[iheartmapi]

My Kink Is Karma

(Yes I shamelessly stole the tile from Chappell, anyways first time writing for Alexia!)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Summary: You’re in Real Madrid, so it’s no surprise that you and Alexia despise each other. Your club is playing a match against Barça which ends in Real winning, afterwards you and Alexia have an exchange of nasty words…Alexia subtly insults you in an interwiew which infuriates you, not too soon later when you’re at a club with your teammates it just so happens that Alexia’s there too…

Enemies with benefits. (But not really)

TW: heavy making out, grinding (kind of), alcohol consumption, crude language.

Word summary: 2,924

“Wishing you the best, in the worst way.”

Hundreds of laughters and cheering filled your ears…you and your teammates were all smiling ear to ear, the reason was simple, you just got done with a match against Barça, and won, you were bursting from happiness, but knowing how mad and disappointed your long time enemy must be right now also rubbed off on you positively.

In fact you were quick to look across the pitch, searching for Alexia. Seeing her mad or down on her luck in general was a massive treat for your ego, and there she was…”La Reina”, you scoffed inside your mind as you thought of the nickname, in your eyes that woman was far away from a queen. She was so far away from where you were, but you could feel the rage heating up inside her from your place already. You grinned, as you saw Alexia glance at you as well, she then turned back to her teammates, telling them something, from her body language it seemed like she was complaining, but who cares?

Well, this was finished, time to get back to your locker rooms. You walked alongside your teammates gleefully, chatting with each other about the match. You entered the locker room…chatters and loud voices filled the room, most refreshed themselves a bit, splashing some cold water, washing their hands and etc.

After talking with your teammates you went to your locker…you pulled out your phone having to check something, mostly messages from close friends and family members questioning how you were..you grabbed your duffel bag, phone in hand as you headed out with the rest of the girls, at that moment you felt buzzing, surely it was a call from your mother. You told the girls you’d catch up with them and that you just had to answer…

It was a typical casual conversation, just your mom congratulating you..the typical motherly worry about how you’re doing…that kind of stuff.

You finally hanged up, having said bye to her, the corridor was empty, just as you turned your head in the exits direction you suddenly heard a scoff behind you, you turned back, and as your brain took in who it was a scowl immediately befall your lips. It was Alexia, looking uptight as ever.

“What do you want?” You snarled at the blonde woman “Me? Oh I just wanted to congratulate you on your win” she chuckled bitterly, you shook your head in disdain, noticing how Alexia was inching closer to you. “Honestly Putellas, you can take your congratulations and shove it up your ass” you chided, she frowned at the remark “So considerate of you, are you really that pretentious that you can’t take a simple damn congrats?” You raised your eyebrow at how she was trying to play this off “Like you’d ever want to congratulate me out of the goodness of your heart…I know damn well you’re probably trying to curse me or something”

Alexia was now at an arm’s length, it seemed like she got even more mad at that “Are you calling me a witch?” She asked with an eerie mad calmness in her voice, “Perhaps, I think it’s fitting, I’d change it to ‘la bruja’ instead” Alexia’s brows furrowed, she crossed her arms “Why do you have to act like such a little bitch all the time?” You scoffed at the sudden intensity of her words “I’m not being a little bitch” you argued, “Yes you are, you’re a goddamn brat, a child, I have no idea how you even got into Real Madrid in the first place, I guess they just take the first buffoons they can find-“ you cut in “Don’t you dare call me that! I swear to God someday I’ll…” Alexia looked down at you “Someday you’ll? Can’t even finish your sentence? You’re pathetic” she retaliated, “Look in the mirror before you start calling me names! Do you have no self respect?” You snapped back, Alexia leaned against the corridors wall “I’m sure I know way more about self respect than you do…who knows just what you guys get up to” she scowled at you, now…was she trying to suggest what you think? “You sound very intrested, don’t you think that’s a bit weird?” For a second you swear you saw a light rosy colour dust Alexia’s cheeks, but soon that damned scowl came back onto her face “No.” She simply stated “Quit the remarks, Y/n” she then added, “You started it” you just raised your shoulders, clearly she couldn’t find anything to say anymore, the rosy colour came back onto her face, now staying there “You’re amusing, you know that? And I don’t mean it in a positive way” you rolled your eyes “Whatever you say, I don’t have time for this Alexia” and that’s how you ended the conversation abruptly before storming towards the exit, when Alexia was nowhere in sight anymore you started fuming, just who the hell did that women think she was? And what was it with that peculiar remark about what you “got up to”? Oh, who the hell cares…you weren’t going to let her plague your mind now.

That same evening, you and the girls from your team decided to go out to celebrate your victory at a club, your group was sitting in a car on your way to the club, you were feeling much better now, more at ease, now having forgotten about the accident with Alexia from earlier, that blonde pest wasn’t going to haunt you when you were trying to have some fun…and that’s the mindset you had at the moment, carefree and happy…but nothing lasts forever.

Your team friend had poked your arm, wanting to show you something important. “You haven’t seen this?” She said as she pulled out her phone and typed something in, she then brought it to you so that you could see…a video started playing, it looked like an interview, but with who? That question was quickly answered as no one else but Alexia fucking Putellas appeared on the screen, you frowned…why was your friend showing you this? After all EVERYONE knew you and Alexia were like a cat and a dog, you despised each other and didn’t care to hide it.

“So Alexia tell us…what happened between you and Y/n Y/l/n after the match? We heard people tell us that some heated words were exchanged between the two of you”

You saw Alexia smile and chuckle

“Oh me and Y/n? I can assure you all that nothing bad happened, we talked, yes…but I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline from a won match that spoke through her at that moment…we all know how young people are”

And with that your teammate pulled her phone back, turning it off. She looked at you, wanting to hear your opinion on this…inside you were RAGING after hearing that stupid subtle jab at you. “So she called you irrational basically” your teammate said “Yeah I got that” you answered, and then gulped trying to keep your emotions in place, “I think she’s just annoyed she didn’t win…and now she’s trying to get at me…it’ll pass” you added with a put on smile, you still couldn’t believe she had the sheer audacity, what a bitter woman that blonde was.

Some time later, you’ve made it to the club, now your mindset was kind of cranky from watching that interview…like your happiness was some fruit that was left untouched for too long and started rotting, but the cause for your rotting was the devil incarnate herself…You guessed you were just going to try to drink your problem away and have some fun FINALLY at last.

Your team kind of split, some girls going onto the dance floor, some to drink, some to talk at a completely different part of the club…you sat at one of the lounge couches alongside some of your teammates that stayed there..you excused yourself, wanting to get a drink for yourself.

The exact moment you stood up…you spotted something weird, was that…no it couldn’t be, but it was! Barça! Here at the SAME club your team went to…this had to be a joke, because you’ve never experienced fate playing with you SO much like right now..you shook your head, you definitely needed alcohol to ease yourself from this.

You quite literally stormed away towards the bar…you sat down at one of the velvet stool chairs, telling the bartender what you wanted and sighing as you held your head in your hands, you felt your happiness falling into pieces, becoming ruins of what used to be so great..

You got your drink and started drinking your sorrows away..you felt as if anything could go to shit at any moment knowing Alexia was here. And even though it was very touché, the worst happened.

“So you’re following me, eh?”

You blinked, once, twice, thrice- that cursed voice…you turned your head to look at the “stranger” who just spoke to you, and of course it couldn’t be anyone but Alexia…You laughed, laughed in pure pity for yourself “If I wanted to stalk someone, it surely wouldn’t be you” you retorted, Alexia smirked at your passive aggressive tone “So cruel as always”

The two of you sat there, you didn’t even feel uncomfortable, you kind of accepted the fact that she was here…”What are you even doing here?” Alexia began, weirdly this time her tone seemed to have no malice behind it, and so you answered truthfully “Well WE were going to celebrate this win tonight…and uh, you?” Alexia drummed her fingers alongside the bars counters, “It’s my birthday today”

You were almost tempted to wish her a happy birthday, but then you were reminded that “oh yeah this is my enemy” so you just answered with a simple “Oh”

“Tell me something, Y/n” you were prepared for some mean joke about you or something else of that nature “Are you perhaps loosened up from the alcohol enough for…” Alexia paused for dramatic effect “dancing?” You looked at her curiously “Dancing? I’m afraid there’s no one for me to dance with” you answered, “I want you to dance with me, then” she wanted…what? Your eyes widened “What? Haha funny…” she was probably only teasing you “Nope, I mean it” she confirmed her true intentions “let’s dance” dancing with your enemy? It was like something taken out of some cheap enemies to lovers romance book “Seriously?” You continued, being baffled by her “For Christ’s sake Y/n, I don’t have all the time in the world for you to constantly ask me that” the blond grabbed your arm, not too tightly thankfully, and pulling you after her.

Was this a dream? If it was then it made no sense at all…here you were, about to dance with her out of all people? Alexia moved gracefully through the crowd, it was almost enchanting to watch as she passed through the clubbers to get to the dance floor…

When she finally found a spot she thought of as good enough she turned around to face you again.

The look on Alexia’s face was one you’ve never seen before…she seemed almost determined to achieve something, but you didn’t know what. You felt as if time froze around the two of you, then Alexia started moving, this side of her was so…shocking to see (at least to you) she was like a beautiful siren singing it’s haunting song trying to lure in sailors, and in this case, you were the sailor for sure. She had this grace to her moves, she wasn’t trashy, not kitschy and her dancing almost seemed theatrical..

You knew you couldn’t stand there like a stick the entire time…so even though you moved a bit awkwardly due to her sudden outburst you did it anyway.

You felt Alexia’s hands creeping onto your shoulders, she wanted to connect this “performance” with you, honestly? You felt like a teenage boy seeing a playboy magazine for the first time ever. Your hands went to her waist after a short thought process, it felt as if each and every one of your grey cells dissolved though.

This wasn’t your first rodeo, sure you’ve been with women before, you’ve hugged women, kissed them, did a lot of other stuff with them…so what was diffrent about Alexia? Why did she make you feel this way even though you hated her guts?

So many questions, and so little time to answer them. Alexia suddenly twirled you around pressing your back to her chest, your heartbeats were as fast as a racing car when you felt her warm breath on your neck, people could see, for fucks sake your teammates could see- but for some reason you didn’t care at all…

You raised your hands to where Alexia was resting her own on your shoulders, lacing them together, Alexia must’ve received this gesture as some kind of agreement, as you felt her lips suddenly grazing your neck and shoulder…but key word; grazing. Did she want you to burn up from being flustered?

Alexia leaned in towards your ear, whispering in a low voice “follow me” with that her hand left you completely, Alexia stepped away, looking behind herself to make sure you were indeed following her, and you were…it’s like she hypnotised you. The same you from earlier this day when the two of you argued in that corridor would’ve scoffed at even thinking about you and Alexia in an intimate setting…yet here you were.

Surely it was made clear to you that she was making you follow her to the restroom, one could definitely imagine what two people

going together to a restroom in a club meant, you only hoped that it was empty right now…

When you two reached the door, Alexia grasped your hand firmly again, she pulled you in, it was almost as if she was getting impatient…it's easy to guess that once inside, Alexia pulled you into one of the stalls.

She locked the door, the plus of these stalls was that they were at least the kind which walls went down all the way, from the celling to the floor, no gaps.

the lightning was dim, but you could see the intensity burning in Alexia's eyes like two big campfires..

Her hands flew to your face, precise fingers gripping your jaw. She tilted it slightly…there was an exchange of glances, slowly you felt the heat of the moment overtaking you completely, Alexia’s eyes crashed onto yours, but when using the word “crashed” one shouldn’t thinking of cars colliding onto one another…it was rather like two swans instead of cars. Her lips moved against yours, she tasted sweet, you could taste the remnants of some fruity drink unknown to you, as her hands were busy with holding your jaw, yours went to her shoulders, as your kissed as if your lips were two dancers..your hands eventually ended up moving down to her waist, caressing wherever you could in the moment

You pulled Alexia even closer to you, your bodies now touching, the need to have her close to you was beyond of your comprehension…her touch, lips, body, hands…everything, was like a soothing balm to whatever pain was deep inside you.

The blonde groaned into the kiss, your bodies now following the movement of your lips and moving against each other as well, arousal was rising higher and higher, eventually Alexia pulled away for a moment…catching her breath, you could see her lips looking bruised from the kissing, they were like fresh strawberries…”I need you” you whispered desperately..and so the two of you got back to it again. The air in this fun-sized cabin was getting hotter and hotter, Alexia’s hands started moving freely, she was combing them through your hair, and you gripped her hips like a vice..it was crazy, like nothing you’ve ever experienced before…just as you thought you were going to explode you felt her hands moving down your abdomen, the woman you hated was doing all of this to you, and you loved it.

The stall’s lock moved, first, you came out then Alexia behind you, thankfully there was no one else but the two of you in the restroom right now, the two of you came up to the mirrors, you splashed some cold water on your face whilst Alexia took care of refreshing herself on her own, your hair was a bit disheveled. A weird calming silence hanged between the two of you, only the sound of rustling and water could be heard, outside of the pumping bass that reached even the bathroom of course…

You stood in front of the mirror, you turned your head looking at Alexia who was trying to make her hair look presentable. You took a breath

“Happy birthday Alexia” you said in a calm voice

She turned to you, a tiny bit surprised before the smallest of smiles graced her face “Thanks”

It was kind of weird to talk to her now after the whole stall thing…”Uh..I’m sorry for insulting you…many times at that” you started, Alexia shook her head “Don’t worry Y/n, I’m sorry..for being an asshole so many times” you smiled at her apology

“So we’re good?” One last time, you had to ask her this and end this conversation

“Yeah, we’re good” Alexia answered simply

And so the two of you left the bathroom, you said bye to each other before going off in diffrent directions of the club. After all…you had to get back to your clubs.

(Big thanks to @kshvue099 again)

[strawberrystepmom]

narumi x f!reader. long distance relationship, reader is visiting him in tokyo. starts off angsty but gets jokey/suggestive toward the end. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to my belovedest @cafekitsune

“I don’t think I can live without you.” 

A spark, an unmistakable fire shines in his eyes that grow wider every second he spends staring at you. He’s trying to approximate or perhaps, more accurately, choreograph your reaction. It’s a habit which is less out of character than most would assume about the man who plays off his feelings as insincere in an effort to keep his shell intact. 

If he assumes how you’re feeling, he can never be surprised. Projection isn’t the enemy, you are if he makes it that way, even as harmless as you appear sitting cross legged on his futon with your knees touching his. 

“How could you do this to me?” The question is spat from his tongue. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours and cupping your cheek. You’ve taken so much from him; his freedom, his heart, his fucking sanity. 

How dare you force him to leave the only home he has ever known - himself - too?

Smiling, you shake your head once and then tilt it to the side, curious and patient. You are no stranger to his outbursts yet this one seems…different. He’s wound tighter than you’ve ever seen him and clearly conflicted so you ignore the uncertain beating of your own heart to focus on his feelings.

“Where is this coming from?”

There’s no mocking in the question yet he feels like nothing short of the butt of the joke. It could be your wry smile, the sweet curve of your lip that he has yet to convince himself isn’t too good to be true, playing tricks on his mind. You must be a siren or a witch, possessing his body and mind enough to convince him that he’s bleeding out whenever you aren’t around to press yourself against the gaping wound of his distrustful heart.

At least that would give him an explanation for all of this. His behavior isn’t his fault, it’s out of his control, it’s you. That smile and those eyes, your too loud laugh and the pathetic way you say his name when he ventures too far from you when you’re out in public. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Gen admits, voice shaky and deep. “With any of this. With you.”

You imagine this is how he sounded when he was younger, up and coming in the ranks of the JAKDF and not a commander standing atop a hill he climbed with little but determination. The mantle of greatness wasn’t thrust upon him the first day although the signs were there and he’s struggled to keep up with his own expectations.

The distraction that gazes up at him with eyes the size of full moons isn’t helping. You’ve flown across the world to come see him a half a dozen times and that doesn’t include the time, the years, spent online talking to one another. The reality of the situation remains that this is as fleeting as anything else he has ever experienced. 

You could change your mind and return home whenever you wanted to, not in the scheduled 18 days from this very moment. You could stop answering his calls and messages, leaving them unread for hours or days or months until the ghost of his grip no longer haunts your hips, until he grips his weapon as tightly as he once held you if only to remind himself that he ever did.

People always have their secrets, their internal worlds they’ll never share with anyone. He does, or well, he did until you came along and insisted on dragging him out bit by bit. Disarming him with honeyed words and even more syrupy kisses.

“Gen.” You say his name and he wishes it weren’t a guiding light out of the depths of his own fears. “Look at me.”

He follows the light anyway and eyes that he’s been intentionally trying to hide beneath thick bangs meet yours. Still smiling softly, always smiling, you slide your hands around his waist and stop just short of climbing into his lap with your foreheads pressed together.

“Why do you think you’re the only one here who feels that way?”

This is exactly what he means. You always catch him off guard. He nearly flinches at your question, lips twitching with the desire to speak though he can’t quite find the words. You’ve never been one to let silence linger lest it breed miscommunication so you continue, taking a deep breath.

“Every day I wonder if it will be the last. You could wake up one day and decide you don’t want this anymore and frankly, I’ve been waiting for it to come. The day I arrive at the airport and you aren’t there to pick me up.” It’s your turn to glance away, gazing down at your crossed legs instead of meeting his eyes that you feel even if they’re absent from your vision. “If it isn't that it could be a kaiju. Or debris. Or an accident. Anything, anytime could take you away from me. Do you think I just sit here and feel alright about it?”

This is the honest truth, even if he may not believe it. “I don’t think I could live without you either,” you admit quietly, more to yourself than to him. It’s a possibility you’ve told yourself could come true a thousand times if you’ve done it once but you can’t control everything, least of all him.

The two of you have done a number one another. If it weren’t so romantic, it’d almost be pitiful.

His tense posture softens, shoulders rolling forward. The hand cupping your cheek falls away from your face to wrap around your ankle, pulling you closer to him so that you are practically in his lap. It’s where he wants you to be anyway.

“A kaiju is nothing you have to worry about.”

“So that’s what you took from all of that?” Raising your eyebrows incredulously, he shakes his head and smiles. “Let me finish?” A question in response to a question. You close your mouth, brows still raised, willing to let him say his piece. 

“I’ve never let anyone see me the way you have.” Opening your mouth to argue, he stops you by shaking his head, tapping into that commanding presence he rarely uses when it’s just the pair of you. “And I’m not talking about seeing me naked so don’t even go there and it was only a few times anyway.” 

Despite yourself, you giggle. You’ve always been an open book yet he reads you like a story he knows by heart, stopping you before you begin on a rant about his wild nights at a love hotel years before he even knew you existed half a world away. 

So much has changed since then. He sighs and pulls you against him, chin resting on your shoulder. “I’m talking about everything else. You’ve seen me sad and happy and fuck, scared like I am right now.”

He gazes up at you, kissing your jaw, mouthing his words against your flesh.

“I don’t want to imagine a day without you.”

You hum in agreement, nodding against the side of his face. Both of your hearts pound against your chest.

“This is like mutually assured destruction,” you joke although it isn’t much of one if you’re honest. 

Chuckling, he kisses down your neck, arms wrapping tightly around your hip. “Then let’s do everything we can to stay intact, yeah?” 

You inhale sharply when he squeezes your hip, leaving a touch you’d have to be dead to forget behind.

“Don’t ever leave me,” you whisper. Part of you hopes he didn’t hear you but in an instant, your hopes are proven wrong when he tips his head upward to kiss you, the promise of an uncertain forever on his tongue.

“You have to stop leaving first.” The words are muttered back sweetly, the fear that was palpable just moments ago dissipating with every touch and kiss. You lean into the firmness of his chest, the frenzied beat of his heart against your arm.

“Ask me to stay and I will forever.”

Giving him an out, you lean back in for another kiss. 

He has 18 days left to figure out how to ask.

[all-things-are-nothing-to-me]

Left to right. First row.

1. The Faggots and Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell.

In a joyous and perverse intermingling of fable, myth, heterotopian vision, and pocket wisdom, The Faggots & Their Friends tell us stories of the 70s gay countercultures and offer us strategies and wisdom for our own time living Between Revolutions. These pages sketch a different shape to time and offer instructions for living within it. This story, like our own, plays out in liminal time. Not the time of revolution, and not after-the-revolution, the story occurs between revolutions. Being between revolutions: being enmeshed in slow entropy, in abandoned spaces, in lives forged without recourse to “winning” or “after.” The faggots feel this disintegration, and live best when empires are falling.

2. Be Gay, Do Crime by The Mary Nardini Gang.

Among the discordant chorus of anons who penned the defining texts of the queer anarchist network Bash Back!, none was more fervent in its glorification of criminal desire, decadent hedonism, and social undoing than the Milwaulkee-based Mary Nardini Gang. Their fiery “Towards the Queerest Insurrection” still circulates as an integral manifesto of riotous queerness, while the “Criminal Intimacy” and “Whore Theory” have made their more subterranean way into innumerable conversations and correspondences.

Ten years later, the secretive group supplements these collected writings with a subtle retrospective. Carefully unlocking the hidden layers of their theses on insurrection, they face up to what they got wrong, concede that the world ended somewhere between the Greek insurrection of 2008 and now, and insist upon the vital task of ushering new worlds into being as we live amid the decomposition and cataclysmic death throes of the old one. To their theses on insurrection, they prepend a new arcana tooled for opening onto the queerest of outsides.

Dedicated to their friends among the dead, this pocket edition is a necromantic mirror, an encrypted message to old loves, and an invitation to those finding these words for the first time.

3. The Criminal Child by Jean Genet.

“As for me, I have chosen: I will be on the side of crime. And I will help the children, not to win back access to your houses, your factories, your schools, your laws, and sacraments, but to destroy them.”

So reads this new clandestine translation of a previously censored and unavailable text by Jean Genet. “The Criminal Child” is a critical engagement with the French youth prisons, a reflection on Genet’s formative years within them, a document of hostility towards society and its benevolent reformers, and – as argued by the anonymous afterword – an initiatory magical system.

5. Witchcraft and the Gay Counterculture by Arthur Evans.

This radical faerie classic, first published in 1978 by Fag Rag Press, uncovers the hidden mythic link between homosexuality and paganism in an elegy for the world of sex and magic vanquished by Christian civilization. From Joan of Arc to the Cathars and the underground worshippers of Diana, the author shows how every upwelling of gender transgression and sexual freedom was targeted by the authorities for total and often violent repression or appropriation. The concluding manifesto calls for pagan reconnection with the living world, the creation of armed anarchist cells, and the destruction of industrial civilization.

Left to right. Row 2.

1. What is Gender Nihilism? A Reader.

A collection gathering readings for discussions on an end to gender: not the proliferation or liberation of gender, but its catastrophic cancellation. The reader brings together writings as old as 1883 and as recent as 2015, juxtaposing nihilist, radical feminist, queer, trans, anticolonial, communizing and insurrectionary approaches with other unclassifiable textual/existential disruptions. Many of the readings are out of print or have only appeared online or in zine form, and include: Adrienne Rich, Monique Wittig, Michel Foucault, Judith Butler, A.R. Stone, Paul B. Preciado, the entities known as Radicalesbians, Gender Mutiny, Baedan, Ehn Nothing, Laboria Cuboniks and, as always, Anonymous. Also includes “My Preferred Gender Pronoun is Negation,” “Gender Nihilism” by Aidan Rowe, and the gender nihilism anti-manifesto that inspired the collection.

2. Baedan 1 – journal of queer nihilism.

3. Baedan 2 – a queer journal of heresy.

If the first issue of Baedan was a knife thrust wildly in the dark, the second is an effort to examine our enemies in a new light; enemies who bear scars yet endure. In a sense, this issue follows through our initial attack and pushes beyond our own horrors at the consequences of words. We write at a time when everything which seemed slightly possible two years ago has borne its rotten fruit; when queer recuperation has become more powerful and accepted than ever, while the fetish for technology has reached an unprecedented frenzy; when so many efforts at subversion languish under the tyranny of cybernetic identity and aesthetics (even our own etymologies have become identities!); when friends turn away out of fear of the unknown, turn toward all the comforts and certainties of the past (identity politics, traditionalism, religious morality, activism, et al). The old enemies rear their heads and the terrain is as bleak as ever. And yet we take seriously that adage: “There’s no need to fear or hope, but only to look for new weapons.”

4. Baedan 3 – journal of queer time travel.

Bædan: journal of queer time travel marks a further attempt to pose and to flesh out a queer critique of civilization. Queer not only in the sense of coming from those outside and disruptive of the Family, but also in the sense of a critique weirder than its more orthodox cousins. We imagine the Bædan project as an effort to pose the critique of civilization otherwise, to begin from another place. In this issue (and beyond…) we have conjured a strange bestiary of thinking, trying to unearth and trace the tradition of anti-civilization thought in the literature of queerness and in queerness as immanent critique.

*I couldn't find this one online*

[milkbobatyun]

our final night

pairing: geto x gn!reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: no one promised tomorrow would come without a mishap, so he came to you, to love you and be next to you, even if it was just for one final night

word count: 551

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : mentions of alcohol, jjk spoilers

a/n: geto is my fav jjk character frfr :( he needed a happy ending. gege must now pay for my therapy cus wtf was that whole thing (◞‸◟；)

ever since that incident, geto suguru had been secluding himself from everyone else. the last person to have ever seen him was gojo. he was kind enough to send you a final text message.

‘let’s break up.’

so the last thing you expected was to see him in the middle of the night, at your doorstep.

the thump of knocking against your door had aroused your attention. despite it being the ungodly hour of 2 in the morning, you found yourself unable to sleep, instead sitting with a warm mug of hot chocolate, a sappy rom com playing on the tv, while you drew sketches in your book.

cautiously, you peered through the peep-hole, hoping it wasn’t some mass murderer who had decided you were their next target. instead, there stood geto, hair dishevelled and escaping his usual hairstyle.

without hesitation, you threw open the door, ushering him inside before someone saw. seeing his condition, your heart wrenched painfully. he had dark shadows haunting the bottom of his eyes, the smell of alcohol clinging to him.

geto stumbled into your house, large form slumping over your shoulder as you nearly buckled under his weight.

“i told myself i wouldn’t come back,” he mumbled into your shoulder, words slurring with the effect of the alcohol. “but i didn’t know where else to go, i had no one else to turn to.”

you were silent, lending an ear to his inner-most thoughts, allowing him to spill all the emotions he had been building up inside. he righted himself with an effort, gently cupping your face with his larger hands.

“it was stupid of me,” geto sighed, eyes downcast with sadness. “i know i told you that i wanted to break up but…” he broke off with a sigh.

tears glistened in his eyes as his stare bore into yours. “you’re too important to me. i love you so much, but when you’re with me, i’ll only drag you down.”

the sorrow lingered in the air, like the remenents of a burning stick of incense. that was the last thing geto remembered saying before sleep invaded his senses, leaving you to settle this late night visitor into suitable accommodations.

when he awoke, the sunlight was streaming through the curtains, warming his face. he was covered in a fluffy orange blanket, a pattern of chibi black cats adorned with witch hats dancing across the fabric.

a past conversation whispered into his ear as he stared holes into the blanket.

the cats, they look like you, dangerously adorable, you had teased, a delighted smile on your face. geto’s was adorned with a put-out pout, arms crossed against his chest as he dramatically huffed his offence at your comment. that night, it had taken you many kisses and whispered apologies as you tried to win back his favour. needless to say, it didn’t take long before your teddy bear of a boyfriend relented into your pleas.

geto was shaken from his thoughts by the loud pop and sizzle of food frying in a pan. the enticing scent of pancakes wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by the soft melody of your cheerful humming.

maybe, just for one day, he could pretend that everything was just fine.

when it comes time to say goodbye, maybe he could die with a smile.

taglist (open): @yeonjunsfox

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[mlqueen89]

One | Flyboy 

so cross your thoughtless heart  she's the albatross  she is here to destroy you 

The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |     

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats. 

word count: 8,997

summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it. 

A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.  

proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful. 

also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥

Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.    

The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.   

When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.   

“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.   

Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.   

Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.   

Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.   

Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....   

There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.   

Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?   

Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.   

Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.    

Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?   

Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...    

The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.   

There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.   

Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.   

Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.   

Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.   

Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.   

The response pinged back quickly.   

Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!   

Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.

Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.   

When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.   

Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.  

Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.   

Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.  

Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.   

It was Ken.  

Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.    

“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.  

Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.   

“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”   

“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”   

“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”  

It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.   

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.  

Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.   

Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”   

It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.  

As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.  

“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.  

Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.  

That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.  

And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.  

Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”  

“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”  

Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.  

“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."  

“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.” 

“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.  

Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”  

“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”  

Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.” 

With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side. 

The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.  

Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this. 

Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after. 

“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation. 

“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place. 

When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one. 

“What are you drinking, Amelia?” 

“Nothing, yet.” 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  

The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this. 

“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”  

A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.” 

She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.” 

Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted. 

If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”  

Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”  

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”  

She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”  

She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.  

He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”  

Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.  

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.  

“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.  

“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”

Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.  

This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.  

When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.  

“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.  

“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.   

She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.   

“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.  

When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.  

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.  

“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.    

“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.  

He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”  

“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.  

Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.  

But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him. 

“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”  

He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.  

As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her. 

“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.” 

Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it. 

Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.  

Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.  

She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.   

In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?  

He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.  

Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.  

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”  

She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.  

Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.   

Mystery solved.  

“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.  

“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.   

“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.  

“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.  

Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth. 

She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.  

“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.  

“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time. 

“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”

He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want. 

“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.  

Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.     

She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.    

“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.     

She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.    

“What was that darlin’?”    

Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.    

“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.     

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.    

“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—” 

He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want. 

She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.    

When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound. 

That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well–earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended. 

“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.  

She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs. 

It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.  

Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.  

“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face. 

Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.   

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.  

“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”  

This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.  

When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.  

That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.  

Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.   

Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.  

Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.  

It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.  

Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.  

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.  

Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”  

“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.  

“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”  

“Ah, you know the type, Tony.” 

Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer. 

As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.  

Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.  

“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.  

“Eleanor.” 

“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”  

“Surname?”  

“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.  

The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.  

When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.  

As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”  

They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.  

“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”   

Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.    

“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.  

The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her. 

Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”    

Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment. 

There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.

He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly. 

Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.

The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.  

Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him. 

Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice – there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her. 

“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.” 

Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less. 

As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second. 

“This is—”  

“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby. 

“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter. 

Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.  

His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.    

Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”  

Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?   

“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.  

He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.  

“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious. 

Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things. 

At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to. 

The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.  

Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.  

All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.  

It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.  

Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.   

Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.  

Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”  

You have to say please, sweetheart. 

The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing. 

Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down. 

Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.    

Incredible sex.     

The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.    

Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category. 

If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money. 

“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.      

When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”  

The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.  

She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.  

Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”  

Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon. 

“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.  

The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim. 

This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.   

The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right? 

“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.  

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.  

Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”   

Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.  

Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.    

Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.   

Great.    

She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”    

As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.  

tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592

taglist if you want to be added/removed!

[theresattrpgforthat]

It would be awesome if you could recommend some solo ttrpgs! I've been getting into them a lot lately and want to know more of what's out there. Especially journalling ones, as I enjoy creative writing. So far I've looked into (and will probably buy soon) Firelights, Apawthecaria, and Fox Curio's Floating Bookshop.

Also, I love this blog a ton. Already there have been some awesome games I've learned about from you, including the one you're currently working on. Excited to give it a try sometime! Keep being amazing 💜.

Theme: Solo Journalling Games

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm certainly excited to run Protect the Child for folks, play-testing it so far has been really fun!

As for your ask, solo games and journalling go hand in hand. These next few games are just a sampling of what I've added recently to my Solo Games folder on Itch.

Cats Know Things, by Mushroom Witch Games.

CATS KNOW THINGS is a light-hearted game meant to tell a humorous story of intrigue, all while pretending to be a very nosy cat. 

But you are no ordinary cat.

You are a very special feline who, through some magic you cannot explain, can communicate with your human, an individual who wishes to make their mark in society by any means necessary. The two of you decide to start a society page, (a very fancy type of tabloid newspaper dedicated to a particular location) revealing the glitz, glamour, and inner turmoil of the town’s most notable individuals. 

Use a d6 and a d10 to generate numbers, and sneak into places to listen into secret or private conversations. Then bring this news to your human companion, so that they may relay this gossip in the local society page. You need to find 6-8 scintillating stories before the week is up, so that your human has enough to print.

If you want a game full of scandal and cute furry little rumour-mongers, this might be the game for you!

Lingering, by Meghan Cross.

The last thing you remember, you were dying.

Now, breath fills your lungs once more and your eyes open, slowly shifting side to side as you attempt to regain your bearings. You are alive. But you are…changed. Your human form is gone, and in its place is one that is different, foreign, animal…

In Lingering, you play as a person who has died, only to find yourself alive again in an animal form, unable to move on to your eternal rest until you settle business left unsettled from your life. 

Throughout the course of a game, you will make several attempts to communicate with a chosen human, hoping to convey a message to them so they can assist you and help you move on once and for all. 

This game uses a deck of cards and some guiding adjectives to determine how your attempts at communication will go. Over eight rounds, you’ll flip cards while guessing as to whether each card will be higher or lower than the previous one, and a successful guess means a successful interaction. The details of those attempts are what you’ll be journalling, and Lingering provides a number of questions that you might try to answer with each attempt.

This game takes place over eight rounds, so it’s excellent if you want a short, contained game. It also has a two-player option if you want to try this game out with a loved one.

Dragon Dowser, by HatchlingDM.

Dragon Dowser is a solo journaling RPG using the Carta SRD by Peach Garden Games. You play a mysterious character known as a 'Dowser'. Your aim is to locate abandoned dragon eggs and return them to your Sanctuary. If you succeed before expending your resources, the hatchling you rescue will be reared to change the kingdom forever! 

This is a lovingly crafted game that uses card suits to represent four different kinds of ways your character will be tested, as they interact with different cultures, explore new landscapes, and dea with various conflicts, both human and nature-made.

You’ll travel across a grid of cards that provide you with journaling prompts as you travel. You’ll expend resources to overcome obstacles, looking for a dragon egg, represented by an Ace! Once you return this egg to a sanctuary, you’ll journal about your experience of raising the hatchling. Based on the games you’ve mentioned so far, I think Dragon Dowser is right up your alley.

EDEN, by blasez-faire.

You are Judaiah Clark, the Head Botanical Researcher at the Southern Sector of Eden. You are here for exactly 10 days, and were a last minute choice after the sudden disappearance of ■■■■■■ ■■■■■, the last person to hold this position. You are not here for work. Investigate.

EDEN is a single-page game that takes place over the course of 10 in-game days, with two questions that you will have to answer in your journal for every day. You are expected to write up a report with detailed notes, so much of the extrapolation taken from each pair of questions is going to come from your own imagination. To help with this you might want to come up with names for other characters, draw a map of the Southern Sector, or go into detail about the plants that this research station grows.

One thing is for sure - this is going to be a horror story. If you like games that give you a lot of room to stretch your creative wings, and you also like writing terrible endings for your characters, you might like this game.

Black Mountain Numbers Station, by Simon de Vet.

You wake one morning to the sound of a voice on the radio reading a series of numbers. On impulse, you jot them down. These numbers will become your life.

Black Mountain Numbers Station is a one-page, solo-journaling game about a mysterious broadcast, and about finding patterns in randomness. Using a unique dice mechanic to prompt you to describe your journey, you will tell a short story of obsession, frustration, and discovery.

This game is uses a 6x6 grid with boxes that you’ll need to fill when you roll a pair of dice. You’ll trigger evens when you roll doubles or find a certain pattern on the grid as you fill it, and in both of these cases, you’ll write special journal entries. The game ends when you fill your Frustration track, which symbolizes listening for too long without learning anything new. What exactly you learn, however, is up to you.

Bound, by K Ramstack.

Bound is a single player setting agnostic game about the connection between two people as they travel to a destination through the destruction of the world on a journey they will most likely not complete.

You will create two characters, their relationship to one another, the destruction that haunts them, and the motive for them to move forward.

During the game, you will be asked to write scenes in first person, switching perspectives between characters, and using their personality traits and subjective conceptualizations of each other to answer prompts.

Bound has a single and two-player version, and uses two decks of playing cards, one for each character. Each card will relate to a prompt on the prompt table, but only the highest ranked prompt will be answered. Each prompt will ask a question about the relationship, and how it changes.

If you want a deeply emotional game with a beautiful layout and lovely art, this is the game for you.

The Narrator Paradox, by psychound.

The Narrator Paradox is a one page solo-narrating game where you try to tell a story … if your protagonist will let you. In it, you determine the five acts of your story based on an oracle, then make rolls for your plot beats to see if you can wrangle your protagonist into the prescribed narrative. If you can't, they defy you and take the story into their own hands. Wrestle the story into shape against a rebellious hero, or lose them forever and have to finish the story without them in it. 

Using the Major Arcana of a tarot deck, two six-sided dice and a coin, The Narrator Paradox has a number of different ways that you’ll try to keep your story on track. However, with so much randomness, your protagonist is sure to have a mind of their own. This feels very much in tune with how many writers talk about their characters as if those characters have their own desires, so if you’ve ever related to that you might enjoy this game.

Also Check Out...

My Solo Games tag! I use this tag for every recommendation post specifically for solo games.

[magickkate]

A Beginner's Guide: Exploring the Basics of Witchcraft

Are you intrigued by the mystical world of witchcraft and eager to begin your magical journey? Whether you're drawn to the art of spellcasting, divination, or connecting with nature's energies, the basics of witchcraft provide a solid foundation for your exploration. Here's a beginner's guide to help you embark on this enchanting path:

1. Understanding Witchcraft:

Witchcraft is a spiritual practice that encompasses a diverse range of traditions, each with its own beliefs and practices. It is fundamentally about harnessing personal power, connecting with nature, and creating positive change.

2. Embracing Your Path:

Witchcraft is highly personal, and there is no one-size-fits-all approach. Explore different traditions, read books, and listen to your intuition to discover what resonates with you. Your journey is uniquely yours.

3. The Power of Intention:

At the heart of witchcraft is intention. Your thoughts and feelings shape the energy you put into the universe. Clarify your goals, visualize your desires, and set clear intentions for your magical work.

4. Working with Energy:

We believe in the existence of energy that flows through everything. Learn to sense and manipulate this energy through practices like grounding, centering, and visualization.

5. Tools of the Craft:

While not mandatory, many witches use tools such as candles, crystals, herbs, and tarot cards to amplify their intentions. Familiarize yourself with these tools and choose the ones that resonate with you. Intention is your most powerful tool.

6. Moon Phases and Timing:

The phases of the moon play a significant role in witchcraft. Learn about the energy associated with each phase (new moon for beginnings, full moon for culmination) and align your magical workings accordingly.

7. Spellcasting Basics:

Spellcasting involves directing energy toward a specific goal. Start with simple spells, focusing on your intentions. Remember, the more aligned your actions are with your intention, the more powerful the spell.

8. Meditation and Visualization:

Cultivate a regular meditation practice to quiet the mind and enhance your ability to visualize. Visualization is a potent tool in spellcasting and energy work. This is so important for overall focus and mental clarity.

9. Protection and Grounding:

Before delving into magical practices, establish protection and grounding techniques. This ensures you are anchored in the present and shielded from unwanted energies.

10. Building an Altar:

An altar serves as a sacred space for your magical work. Personalize it with items that hold significance for you—crystals, candles, symbols, and representations of the elements.

11. Respect for Nature:

Witches often have a deep connection with nature. Spend time outdoors, observe the changing seasons, and incorporate natural elements into your practice.

12. Research and Learning:

Knowledge is a cornerstone of witchcraft. Read books, join online communities, and attend local events to expand your understanding of different traditions, rituals, and practices.

13. Ethics and Responsibility:

Ethical considerations are crucial in witchcraft. Respect the free will of others and act with responsibility and integrity.

14. Journaling Your Journey:

Keep a magical journal to document your experiences, spells, and reflections. This becomes a valuable resource for tracking your progress and understanding patterns in your magical work.

15. Embrace Your Unique Path:

Witchcraft is an ever-evolving journey. Embrace your uniqueness, trust your intuition, and allow your path to unfold organically. There are no rigid rules—only the ones you choose to follow on your enchanted journey.

Remember, the essence of witchcraft lies in the exploration of the self, the connection with the natural world, and the pursuit of personal growth. May your journey into witchcraft be filled with wonder, discovery, and the magic of self-discovery. 🔮🌙✨

My messages are open for questions and ideas! Happy Witching!

[nyashykyunnie]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 ✦ Kyunnya's Wonderland ✦ ━━━━

✦♡ -ˋˏ Kyunnya ˎˊ-♡ ✦

𝐀 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐲

🌊 ☆ ⋆ ｡ 🪼 𖦹 ° ‧ ★ 🐚

✦♡𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

| TEMPORARY WRITING HIATUS UNTIL MY CREATIVE JUICE COME ALIVE

| Rising Sign: Cancer

| Sun, Moon, Venus: Aries

| Age: 18↑

| Kyunnie's Song: Moonstruck - Enhypen

╰ ➤ Birthday: 04/09

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ MASTERLIST UNDER THE CUT!!! -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✦♡ 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

| Pronouns: She/Her/

| Orientation: Lithromantic

| Main Fandom: Solo Leveling, Love and Deepspace, HYV games, Wuthering Waves

| A fellow Tarot Reader !!!!

| Kinnies: Kaveh and Zhezhi

╰ ➤ MBTI: INFP, RLUEN, Noncurious, Melancholic-Phlegmatic🌸

🌊 ☆ ⋆ ｡ 🪼 𖦹 ° ‧ ★ 🐚

✦♡ 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

| 성진우 내 아기💜

| Sung Jinwoo and Dr Zayne enthusiast

| Danmei Reader, Manhwa/Manhua Reader

| Artist: I draw a lot !!!

| Lots of Ocs !!!!

| Plays the Kalimba: I named him Bingbing ♡

| Loves the ocean a lot despite the fact I'm not a Rafayel girlie

| Listening to: .... Enhypen, Alien Stage, Chogakusei

╰ ➤ This User is A Yumejoshi (Self-insert/Oc x Canon)

🌊 ☆ ⋆ ｡ 🪼 𖦹 ° ‧ ★ 🐚

✦♡ 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 with Kyunnie ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

| YES : Do talk about me about your day, interesting things, random brainrots, silly thoughts, headcanons

| NO : Please do not rant in my inbox randomly and send harmful texts I am uncomfortable with a lot of stuff involving the opposite of positivity and substances. Including depictions of suicide, self-harm or anything involving with poor mental health. It's not that I don't care or anything it's just that I am easily triggered and it makes me recall harmful memories. Please get professional help if you have symptoms. Although I enjoy headcanons of drunk Jinwoo DOES NOT EQUATE to me liking irl substances!!!

| Just Because I'm an adult does not mean I enjoy adult pleasures !!!

| Please do not tag me randomly in your fics with no permission. If you asked permission and I said no. Then no. I like supporting authors but by forcing yourself down my throat you're destroying future friendships.

| Do not message me just to say "Please support my works" ><. Again, you're destroying future friendships. Do not message me to do inputs in your own story because it is your own creation. It comes off as a bit rude to ask for opinions randomly I'm sorry.

| Requests: NOT OPEN AS I HAVE A LOT TO DEAL WITH PLEASE DO NOT SEND ME REQUESTS FOR FICS

⋆★⋆════ ⋆★⋆ ════⋆★⋆ ════⋆★⋆ ════⋆★⋆

✦♡ More Stuff ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

🌸 Click Here for Jinwoo Bots 🌸

🌸 Art Commissions: Open 🌸

✦♡ JINWOO MASTERLIST ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Sung Jinwoo x Cuddly SO

Sung Jinwoo x Introvert SO

Sung Jinwoo: Boyfriend Hcs

Sung Jinwoo x Male! Reader Who He Thought Was a Girl For Years

Sung Jinwoo: Comfort

Sung Jinwoo! Two Hearts x Gn! Reader: Twice To Love You More

Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Isekaid! Mage! Reader

Sung Jinwoo! NSFW! hcs

Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader

Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader! S-Ranker S/O

Sung Jinwoo x Reader Having A Panic Attack

Sung Jinwoo x Bubbly Reader

Sung Jinwoo Assassin Au: Part 1

Idol Au Sung Jinwoo

Sung Jinwoo Boyfriend Hcs: Part 2

Part 1:One-Sided Love: In Which, you realize Jinwoo was always for Hae-In

Part 2: One-Sided Love: In Which, you realize Jinwoo was always for ???...

Malewife! Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader : High school Love!!!

Sung Jinwoo x Gn! Reader: Holding Hands

Sung Jinwoo x Drunk Fem!Reader

Valentines Day Special Fic

Part 1: Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader

Part 2: Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader

Yandere! Jinwoo x Best Friend! Reader

Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Player! Reader

Route 1-Loveless Marriage Au: Jinwoo x Reader

Route 2-Loveless Marriage Au: Jinwoo x Reader

Jinwoo Drabbles: Jealous. Jealous. Jealous.

E-rank(?)! Jinwoo x E-rank Witch! Reader

Boyfriend! Jinwoo x Reader

Band Member!Jinwoo x Reader

Part 1: Pirate King! Jinwoo x Siren! Reader

Part 2: Pirate King! Jinwoo x Siren! Reader

Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: Healing

Jinwoo x Artist! Fem! Reader: Drabbles

Historical Au: Slave!Jinwoo x Noble!Reader

Jinwoo x Nerd! Fem! Reader: Drabbles

Self Aware Jinwoo vs Sylus x Fem! Reader

Jealous! Lovesick! Jinwoo x Fem! Reader

Jinwoo x Fem Reader: Soulmate au

Jinwoo x Isekaid! Artist! Reader

Jinwoo x Fem! Reader

✦♡ ZAYNE MASTERLIST ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Zayne x Fem! Reader: Drabbles

Zayne x Lemurian! Fem! Reader: Ebb Day

✦♡ SPECIAL MASTERLIST ━━━━ ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

Self Aware Sylus vs Jinwoo x Fem! Reader

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

divider image credit thanks to @/cafekitsune

[vidalswife]

Open Fire

Word Count: I.8k

— pairing: agatha harkness / wanda maximoff, post wandavision, pre aaa.

Summary: Its been months since Wanda Maximoff defeated Agatha Harkness in Westview and left her powerlessly trapped in a fake persona. What happens when the brunette witch somehow escapes, finding Wanda in her seclusion. An even bigger question, will Wanda team up with her to accomplish the end to Agatha's plan, and if so, what will happen as the two get closer?

author's note: this chapter does not contain any pg13+ material. however in the future of the story, there will be mature themes, so if you are a minor i advise you not to interact. on another note, i wrote this beginning to a fanfiction while waiting for agatha's spinoff to release. i am aware my fic has been stolen and published on another platform, however it is my writing, as you will see, parts of it were edited out. if you would like proof of ownership i shall surely message you. it will not be based on the show, but possibly could have elements of it! and in order not to spoil the plot i will leave it at that. <3

The redhead smiled at the knock on her door, expecting a hiker or a mountaineer to be waiting for her, she called out a quick "I’ll be right there", rushing to grab the refreshments she typically offered to those passing by.

Ever since she left Westview, since defeating Agatha, she’d been in the mountains of Slovakia. A small cabin was all she needed, it had a room, a kitchen, a small area with couches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. She crafted it on her own. She had finally reached the full potential of her power, at least she thought she did, and she used it to start anew. She did not want to be found, and she didn’t need anyone, but still, when hikers or tourists came around, she enjoyed the company. She would bake them pastries and bread every now and then. Agatha taught her to bake, but then again, Agatha taught her a lot.

When Wanda was growing up, she didn’t learn to bake or cook, but the witch she left behind in Westview taught her so many lessons about living in a mortal world. She’d hated her, for the most part, but there were so many things in her new life she had to credit to the brunette with mad curls.

As she placed the bowl of freshly baked bread upon the table, and the lemonade in a pitcher to the side, she checked her hair in the mirror planted on the wall, when she was satisfied, she opened the door.

And with a sudden flush, in the very instant, her heart sank, and she slammed the door.

_________________

It couldn’t be happening, I mean Wanda knew she couldn’t play keep-away forever with the other woman, but it sure as hell seemed like the best temporary option.

She turned with her back against the door, closing her eyes and exhaling a stress filled sigh.

”Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” said 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 voice. Even though there was no mistaking who owned the captivating tone, Wanda wished that when she opened her eyes, she would wake up, and she would somehow be in a dream.

But alas, when she did open her eyes, reality hit the redhead like a semi-truck.

Standing in front of her was Agatha Harkness, the now powerless, crazy, curly haired raveness. The ‘evil’ witch she had defeated some time ago.

Wanda instantly resorted to using her magic, sending magical cuffs around the woman’s wrists, to which Agatha simply chuckled, “I’m starting to get the notion this wasn’t as pleasant of a surprise as i had hoped.”

”Oh, really? You think so?” spat the ginger, a soft hand now palming her forehead. She figured the witch would return one day, rise again and try to get her powers back. However she never figured it would happen only months later. She may have been the most powerful being to exist, but there was no doubting the strength of the other witch in the room, or anyone she could have used to free herself.

”Wanda, dear, these cuffs aren’t necessary” she reminded, hinting that she no longer had powers.

Wanda's brow furrowed, her eyes flooding to the sight of the cuffed and powerless brunette in her living area. She wondered about removing restraints, questioned the probability that Agatha knew other ways to harm her, and she figured it was best to keep them.

”Listen doll, I haven't come to harm you, I've come to help you.” she spoke, and Wanda slowly inched closer, tilting her head as her lips parted, in an attempt to suggest something that would not come out. It was like the woman read her mind, one of the powers she had was the ability to manipulate, interact with, and read minds, but that had only been with those in Westview. . and there was no way she had power again.

”How did you know what I was thinking, Agatha?” she said, tone cruel and interrogative. With the settlement of these words, she was inches from the other witch, her expressions clearly showing some form of confusion and anger combined. Agatha loved playing with the gingerette’s mind. It was almost an impossible thing to avoid.

”Wanda Wanda Wanda” she spoke, a long pause shadowing the calling of the woman's name. Wanda noticed how intently the witch was watching her, observing her, studying her. With a smooth and subtle smirk, she began to speak again, “You can’t ever make things easy for yourself, can you?” Agatha slowly began to move, raising her hands from behind her back, which were free from wanda’s cuffs, almost as if they had never existed.

Wanda stood lifeless, frozen and in shock. Slowly she began backing away, realizing that this meant 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨.

”How did you–” she was cut off by a hand raising, a dim and small light of purple emerging from tan fingertips. Agatha whispered an incantation, flicked her wrist, and Wanda was forced upon the door, unable to move.

The witch inched closer, smirking at the woman’s confused look. “You're so. . dull. thinking you could take away 𝘢𝘭𝘭 of my power, and keep me trapped in your silly little persona?” she chuckled, “It took less than a week for me to break the curse you put on me, less than a month to gain some of what I lost. . I could’ve killed you, you know. I've been watching you, Wanda.” The redhead shivered at the thought of just dying, no warning, to the hands of Agatha Harkness, albeit. It made her think of Pietro, how he was dead, and never coming back.

”Oh, but don’t worry, I have bigger plans for you” she spoke, closer to wanda than ever before. Wanda had conflicting feelings towards Agatha. They had shared a friendship, of course, when Agatha was Agnes, and Wanda was “evil”. No matter the details, the two witches had built a rapport with one another. An unspoken understanding was present, so Wanda believed her when she said she wasn’t 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 planning to kill her.

”If you really want to help, with whatever twisted, fucked up idea you have of what I ‘need’, let me out of this hold.” Wanda shot a smile at the brunette, and Agatha simply tilted her head in consideration, before repeating another incantation.

The binding yet blinded force was now constructing her body, pressuring her more into the door. She yelped, wincing at the pain. Part of her wanted to use her magic, but she had learned it would do no good the last time she tried.

Agatha had a devilish smile on her lips, one that Wanda knew too well.

“Please” she winced. The older woman only chuckled mischievously, before flinging her wrist left.

As the redhead felt the force upon her body release, she sighed. Part of her wanted to run up and punch the other witch, mainly for imposing on her life so soon into her newly found peace (for the most part). Wanda instead shot an angry look at the brunette, and Agatha replied with an obvious smirk and a raise of her eyebrows.

”I'm sorry to have wasted you a trip, but I don’t want any help from 𝙮𝙤𝙪, and I never will” she remarked, walking away from the essence of the woman, to her kitchen counter. She grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge, pouring a glass of cold water. It was risky turning her back on such a powerful person, especially after refusing an offer, but there was some form of trust she felt, something unexplainable that she only felt with her.

It was quiet for a moment, until finally she heard the heels softly embracing the wood floor.

click.. click.. click.. click.

They stopped, and Wanda dismissed the notion of turning around. She could hear the smooth breaths Agatha took, so close. Wanda's hand clutched her glass, she planted the other on the counter.

Agatha's arms went past Wanda's waist, and she laid her hands over both of Wanda's. The younger woman reveled in the touch, it was the only human contact besides that of talking that she’d had in months. Agatha's body was pressing into her back, and she sighed into the touch. Her awareness of the situation only grew as she felt the woman’s lips brush along the skin of her neck.

The scarlet witch had always felt.. something when it came to her mentor. Her feelings about the woman were uncharted and complicated. She felt both comfort and edge, like she was safe but not secure. And to have her hands on her own, even if not interlinked, it got Wanda’s mind racing, as well as her heart. Heat flushed to her cheeks as she realized that the raveness could probably hear her heart beating.

”𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧” Agatha whispered, her voice husky and low. Her lips were close to the redhead’s ears, and a soft moan escaped Wanda's lips. She felt so many things, so much confusion at why the things Agatha said made her want to lean into the woman and let her take control. Whatever great things the brunette had in mind were probably wicked. . but when Wanda turned her head and looked into those brown eyes, she couldn’t say no. She tried, opening her mouth to refuse and tell her to leave, but nothing came from her lips.

This made a smirk run onto Agatha’s face, and she held the eye contact that the redhead initiated. At the notice of the woman's still hanging lip, she softly inched her own lips closer.

The witch had always intimidated those around her, and it was no different with Wanda, except the contact was far more intense, and almost like a battle for dominance. Agatha’s lips brushed against the gingerette's, and Wanda’s head tilted to the side, if they were to kiss, the angle would be perfect. Wanda wanted that, she desired it as she desired the air in her lungs. She closed her eyes, waiting for the embrace, when Agatha softly hummed. The brunette pulled her lips away, and found the dip in Wanda’s neck. A soft, but hot kiss was planted on her neck, and the younger woman’s head leaned back. With a smirk, Agatha took the glass from Wanda's hand, and backed away from the woman.

She took a sip from the glass, winking at her ginger witch.

”Don’t be a fool, Wanda” She playfully remarked, setting down the glass beside the redhead, and retreating from the woman.

Wanda had never been so confused, yet had so much clarity in her life. She didn't want to let Agatha stay, or help with whatever she desired, but those lips, those hands, that voice.. they clouded every piece of rationale in her.

Come tomorrow morning, Wanda Maximoff would team up with Agatha Harkness, and no one would know about the moment they had shared that night.

[agatharkn3ss]

Agatha's hidden song?

Another cool little detail. Might be my new favourite song. [Now edited with second line updated]

In episode 2, when Teen talks about himself and Agatha suddenly can't hear him, she tries turning up the radio - and a song about a road plays. Obviously, it's another nod to the Witches Road, but I would like to think maybe it's another hidden message.

Like some others, this song has been written specifically for this show, so I would like to think the lyrics have some deeper meaning to Agatha, especially that Teen doesn't seem to hear the volume going up. Almost as if it's the sigil spell playing it in her head.

It's quite a haunting song and it feels like it talks about Agatha's feelings about her past - maybe even some kind of letter to Rio? (there even is a river reference)

Have a listen and judge for yourselves. (I couldn't find official lyrics anywhere, so I transcribed them as well as I could. If you think I got some words wrong, please let me know!)

There's a Road - Kinney

There's a road in some old town I remember but haven't found. I can hear the distant sounds Of that old river where I lay down.

Cross my heart and count to ten Drawing circles round the past that never ends Lines of wrekage on my face From the memories that never fade away

If I could breathe a deeper sigh I'd tell the stories of how I cried There's a child that's on their knees And begs forgiveness from those she's seen

Like a ghost you disappear Keep me questioning what part of it was real A silent echo through my veins From the memories that never fade away

[thetarotwitch111]

How can you improve your self esteem? - Pick a card witchcraft

One of this piles actually resonated so much for me that i even teared up. May your guides and the Universe lead you to find the best information here too. Axé!

✨Enjoyed the reading? A tip would be a sweet way to help me keep these free insights coming. Thanks so much for your support!

✨ I always use tarot cards and oracle cards for the reedings. Here i used the tarot, the work your light oracle and the prism oracle.

✨ I also channel messages from my guides and add them to the reading.

✨I hope this reading brings you some clarity and guidance. If it resonated with you, I’d love to hear about it!

✨ And if you’re looking for something more personal, I also do individual readings—just DM me anytime.

✨ TIPS ✨

Close your eyes, take a deep breath and ask you guides and the Universe take you to the message you need to read right now.

✨1 - the potion

it’s time to let go of the past and any feelings of regret or missed opportunities. You’ve been holding on to some friends that you’ve lost, and that have left you feeling down, but there’s a reason for all that. They cleared the path for something better that aligns more with who you are now. You’re about to meet people so much more aligned to you and your energy. You’re on the brink of a major shift and being called to open up to new possibilities that are way more in tune with who you are now, not who you were in the past. This is about recognizing that the past doesn’t define your future, your choices do. Start accepting that those chapters are closed and focus on the new opportunities that are coming your way. This shift in mindset is the first step to feeling more confident and at peace with yourself.

And also, step into your power! You’ve got all these dreams and desires, and sometimes it feels like they’re just floating around in the ether, waiting to be grounded in reality. You’re someone who feels deeply, loves deeply, and maybe even dreams with your head in the clouds sometimes. But now it’s time to bring those dreams down to earth and start taking real steps towards them. This is about letting your inner romantic and creative self out to play, whether that means diving into a project, expressing your feelings to someone special, or simply embracing the things that make your heart beat a little faster. Life is too short to hold back, so go ahead and wear your heart on your sleeve. You’re more powerful when you’re true to yourself.

Witch’s advice:

Make a me time with a simple ritual: start with a cleansing bath, from head to toe, using a infusion with lavender, basil, rosemary and chamomile to wash away any lingering doubts and negative energy that might be holding you back. As the water soothes you, imagine it carrying away all your worries and leaving you feeling refreshed and ready to embrace the new and dont rinse off.

After your bath, keep a piece of rose quartz close to your heart and meditate on who you truly are, what you love, and what you want for your life. This crystal will help you nurture that self-love and remind you that you’re worthy of all the good things coming your way. Pair it with citrine, a crystal that’s all about abundance and joy, to attract those positive vibes and keep your energy high.

And because a good cup of tea never fails, brew yourself some dry orange, lavender and vanilla tea. As you sip, take a moment to reflect on what brings you joy, what lights you up, and set an intention to bring more of that into your life. You’d be amazed at how a simple ritual like this can shift your energy already. ✨

✨2 - the oracle

You've been in a bit of a struggle lately, haven't you? It feels like there's been a lot of tension, some conflict, but the good news is that the chaos is starting to calm down and now you can actually hear yourself think. That’s huge because your intuition is seriously on fire right now. You’ve always been someone who picks up on things that others miss, and lately, you’ve probably been keeping a lot of that to yourself, just trying to figure out what’s up. But here’s the thing: you need to start trusting those vibes and letting them guide you. You know what’s best for you, even if it feels like no one else gets it.

it looks like you’re ready to make some bold moves. You’re clear-minded, determined, and you know what you want and nothing is going to stand in your way. Just be careful not to rush things too much. remember that sometimes the best action comes from a mix of speed and strategy.

Also accept that you’re not exactly like everyone else, and that’s f****** perfect! Own it. Sometimes you feel like a total weirdo, like you’re from another planet or something, right? But guess what? That’s your superpower. You’re not here to blend in; you’re here to shake things up. You’ve got this unique way of seeing the world, and yeah, it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but that’s exactly what makes it so important. The world needs people like you who aren’t afraid to question the sistems, to push boundaries, and to bring in fresh perspectives.

So embrace your weirdness, share your thoughts, even if they’re not what people expect and trust your instincts, because they’re leading you exactly where you need to go. The more you lean into who you really are, the more confident you’ll feel. And don’t forget: Your voice is powerful, so use it.

You’re about to wrap up a huge chapter in your life, and it’s going to feel so good. Everything you’ve been working on is coming together, and you’re stepping into this new phase where you can finally breathe and enjoy.

Witch’s advice:

Get some rosemary and boldo infusion for a cleansing bath, head to toe, with no rinse, to clear away any lingering bad vibes and sharpen that intuition even more. Light a white candle to connect with your higher self and set those intentions and grab some amethyst to keep your energy calm and clear, and carnelian to keep that motivation high. You’ve got this, babe. Now go out there and rock your world. 💫

✨Pile 3 - the candle

I can see you’ve been feeling pretty low lately, maybe like you’re out in the cold, struggling to find your footing. It’s like you’ve been dealing with some tough times financially, emotionally, or maybe even both, feeling isolated, or like you’re facing these challenges all on your own. But really, it’s just a phase. This is a moment where you can start shifting that energy. You’re stronger than you think, and there’s a light at the end of this tunnel. Trust that you’re never alone, even when it feels like it. The spirits are with you, guiding you through the darkness.

You’ve got this incredible spark, this passion and confidence that just shines when you let it. You’re a natural leader, someone who can take charge and inspire others. This is a time to really step into that power, to remember who you are cause you got a lot to offer the world, my dear. Even when life’s hard, you’ve still got that fierce energy inside you. It’s time to reignite it and use it to your advantage. And you’ve got that golden touch for your dreams with the wisdom and the practicality to build something solid, something that will last.

And you’ve got that golden touch to make your dreams come true with wisdom and the practicality to build something that will last. This is about laying the groundwork for the future you want. Be patient, be steady, and trust that the seeds you’re planting now will grow into something beautiful and abundant. You have the strength and the skill to turn your visions into reality! believe that, and keep moving forward.

And oh, the celebration that’s coming your way! You’re on the verge of a big win, a moment where you’re going to feel truly proud of yourself. It’s like all the hard work you’ve been putting in is finally paying off, and you’re going to have a reason to kick back and really enjoy the results. This is about feeling supported, loved, and recognized for everything you’ve achieved. Don’t shy away from celebrating your victories cause you’ve earned this!

But, there’s still some shadow work to do. It’s time to break free from the old patterns, the ones that have been passed down through generations. These cycles of pain and rejection—they’ve been with you for too long. Now is the moment to cleanse yourself, to release what no longer serves you, and to step into a new way of being. This is about healing those deep wounds, not just for yourself, but for those who came before you and those who will come after.

Witch’s advice:

I want you to light a purple candle and set the intention to break those ancestral ties that have been keeping you in negative cycles. Ask your guides and the universe to bring in the energy of transformation and transmutation. Let that candle be a symbol of your commitment to moving forward, free from the past.

Also, do a cleansing ritual. Use herbs like sage or palo santo to cleanse your space and yourself, removing any lingering negative vibes. And since you’ve got some deep transformation energy around you, keep a piece of obsidian and an amethyst cluster. These crystals will help absorb any negativity and protect you as you step into this new era.