#but i just never had any feeling to write anything for her outside that initial excitement

[entitled-fangirl]

A sigil of mine.

Summary: the reader is taken from Winterfell while Cregan is at the Wall. He's a vengeful man.

Warning: kidnapping, dread, guilt, blood, scars, branding, talks of torture, our boy Cregan embodying Joel Miller when Ellie gets taken in the Last of Us

This one is dark

A/n: based on an ask! Also, fuck the Lannisters

I'll proofread later🫡

Masterlist

..............................................

"Lord Stark! An urgent letter has arrived from Winterfell!" A brother of the Wall yelled over the sound of the harsh wind that roared through the icy halls.

Cregan turned his entire body to him, a sudden pain in his stomach. What could be so urgent?

Cregan nearly rips the letter from the man's hand as he nears. The letter is stained with a dark red in places and he feels himself choke a little.

Lord Stark, Winterfell is under attack. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I tried to protect the Lady as best as I could.  It was an honor to serve under House Stark and see you become a man. Please forgive me. Maester Tinedel

Cregan's hands shook violently as his eyes roamed over the paper another time. Then once more. His jaw set harshly as he looked up to the man that had brought such devastating news. "When did this arrive?" He growled lowly.

"Just this morning. Is it dated by any chance, my Lord?"

Cregan flipped the page and surely enough, the old maester had been wise enough to do so.

The air in his lungs escaped, creating a cloud in the cold air.

"Three weeks now."

The man stared in confusion at Cregan's sudden distress. "Is everything alright?"

Cregan crumpled the paper in his fist. "Ready my horse."

The brother of the Wall shook his head, "My lord, it is the bulk of winter. You can't possibly leave in such conditions. And you are not properly pack-"

"Ready. My. Horse. I leave within the hour."

The Warden of the North stormed away, a heaviness in his step from the sudden weight on his shoulders.

…

Cregan had always thought the travel to the Wall and back took too long on a good day.

Now, he was a mere bundle of nerves trying to tie what he could to his horse.

It would take too long. Whatever happened had happened and he wasn't there to save them.

To save her. 

He knew the guilt would eat his alive no matter how long it took him to get back. 

Surely another letter would arrive soon if things had turned for the better, but he wouldn't wait for that letter to show. 

The odds of one never arriving were too high.

"Are you certain of this, Lord Stark?"

He turned to the stable master with the hint of unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything. But I must return home."

The stable master nodded in acceptance, "And you're really not going to take men with you?"

Cregan huffed in frustration. "I cannot take men from the Wall. Their war is here. I cannot ask them to fight my own war as well."

"My lord, you're fighting both wars. Surely you can allow for some assistance."

Cregan hoisted himself up onto his horse. "I cannot promise when I'll return. But, should everything be righted, I will write back."

"If I may?"

"Yes?"

The man heaved a long sigh as placed his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't wish this feeling on my worst enemy, my lord. May the gods be with you on your journey and at your arrival."

Cregan bits the inside of his cheek. "Thank you."

With that, Cregan clicks at his horse, and the long journey began.

…

As expected, the journey was grueling. The cold was killing him from the outside in, but the constant need to stop and warm up was killing him from the inside out.

He couldn't even eat without thinking of the blood that stained the letter.

He couldn't sleep without thinking of the screams of his wife as another man's hands laid on her.

Even in the best case, the horror was too much to bare.

Despite his initial crumpling of the letter, Cregan kept it stashed away in his few belongings, smoothing it out and reading it every night before sleep consumed him. 

Just to crumple it again.

…

Despite the journey taking a usual two to three weeks when the weather was obedient, Cregan made it back to Winterfell in a week and half.

The consistent shiver to his bones only spurred him faster. 

He had plenty of time to consider his plan, should he truly be in need of one.

And now was the time to use it. 

…

Winterfell laid still. 

Cregan had expected fire and battle. A sound of swords clashing and men roaring.

Quietness was worse.

He had managed to get through the bulk of people with his hood up and his usual dire wolf cloak long abandoned. 

For in this moment, he was no Stark. 

He was a vengeful man.

He managed to sneak into the walls of the very place he should have been highly welcomed in.

For such a burly man, he was deathly silent. His boots made no sound on the stone floors, and his breath was so low that it may be thought that he didn't breathe at all.

He stood outside of his own chamber that he shared with his wife. He reached up and his hand faltered against the wood of the door. He couldn't dare open it.

"Oh, Lord Stark! Oh, thank the gods!" A female voice shrieked in relief.

Cregan flinched at the sound, turning on his heel to see the woman. His wife's handmaiden. He relaxed a bit.

"Oh. Sorry, milord. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just I didn't know when you would return. Or if you'd return at all. And I-"

"Where is she?" He quietly interrupted.

The handmaiden stiffened and her face fell. "I… I dunno."

"She's not here?" He dared to ask.

She wrung her hands nervously. "You don't… you don't know?"

He tried to hold back his frustration. "Are they still here?"

She shook her head. "Left not long after the attack. Left just a few of us to pick up the pieces."

"And my wife? What happened to her?"

She let the silence set. 

He sighed in frustration and his hand moved to the chamber door.

"I wouldn't, milord," she warned.

He threw her a glare and dare to step in.

He should have listened.

The room laid in disarray. The furs from the bed were thrown on the floor. The furniture was moved, an obvious conflict had occurred. But that's not what Cregan's eyes moved to.

It was the scraps of clothing that were strewn across the room in various places. Some bloody.

His jaw went slack and he knelt down and picked up a strip of the cloth. Stark blue. 

His thumb rubbed at the fabric. He knew it well. His favorite dress on her. 

"They came in the early morning." The handmaiden spoke from the doorway. "Lady Stark had just gotten dressed for the day. I was… I was braiding her hair at the vanity when…"

"When..?" Cregan questioned. 

"It happened so suddenly. The screams."

He stood. "Who did it?"

"House Lannister."

Cregan took a deep breath. "Is she dead?"

"Milord-"

"-Was she slain by a Lannister?"

"No. Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"They took her. She could be dead now, I dunno. But they took her alive."

He felt a bit of relief move down his spine. "When you last saw her, she indeed was drawing breath?"

"Yes."

"Then that's enough for me. And Maester Tinedel?"

She tilted her head back and forth. "He lives. But barely."

He kept the fabric in his hand. "Take me to him."

…

"My Lord!"

"Please, don't get up on my account." Cregan stood at the elder man's bedside. "You're still healing."

The maester relaxed and leaned back against the headboard. "It takes more than a blade to change my loyalty, dear Cregan."

"You've been with me since the day I was born, old man," he teased. "And still you defend me when I am not there."

"There has been no greater honor."

Cregan pulled a chair to his bedside, sitting down. "Tell me what you remember."

"It's not a pleasant story for you, my lord. But very well." He leaned back in thought. "I was in my chamber. It was morning. I heard sounds from the corridor and I dared to go venture out. I defended as much as I could, but an old man is no match to young men with longswords. They took the lady from her room. As far as I know, they still have her-"

"-Do you know where they are now?"

"I'd assume they moved back to Casterly Rock. I have reason to believe that you have been betrayed by one of your bannermen, my lord. How else would they have gotten through the North so quietly?"

Cregan considered the man's words, running a shaky hand over his growing beard. "Who?"

The maester grunted as he sat up further. "I could hardly guess, my lord.

"Whoever it is, I'll murder him where he stands."

…

Gathering men together quickly was not a difficult task for Cregan.

Many men had skin in the game of thrones, and equally so, most were loyal unto death for their lord.

While most banner men would have answered a call to war, there wasn't enough time to gather an army while he was there, leaving the job to one of his closest bannerman, the Lord of House Bolton.

His mind laid in constant worry. 

…

In time, the men made it to Lord Reed, the last of the Northern Lords before being out of the North entirely. 

"'Tis truly a shame of what happened to the castle," Lord Reed said as he ushered Cregan further into Greywater Watch. "Any ideas of who might have done such an act?"

He shook his head, eyeing Lord Glover next to him. "No. No, we haven't. Hence why I don't have an army behind me."

"Well, that's understandable. Whoever did such a crime should be punished by all the gods alike, sneaking such an ambush like that."

Cregan nodded, "Yes, yes, they should. I thank you for housing us on such short notice."

Reed forced a smile. "Of course, Lord Stark." He continued moving down the hall. "The North would never sit by while a Lord's wife was taken from him."

Cregan's foot faltered. He paused completely. His voice was low. "I never said my wife was taken."

Lord Reed froze in pure fear at his mistake.

And he was shoved against the wall with Cregan's wolfish growl in his face. "Where is she?"

Reed gasped and fought against the man, but was no match. "I… I don't know what you mean, my lord… p… please.."

Cregan pulled him away by the throat to hit his head against the stone wall again, repeating himself. "WHERE IS SHE?"

Reed sputtered and groaned at the pain. "I… They didn't tell me… I swear…. I swear that to you."

"Your word means nothing to me." Cregan looked over his shoulder to Glover. "Write back to Winterfell. Tell them Lord Reed is dead."

"…My Lord?" Glover faltered.

"Tell them."

"Aye, my lord."

Reed shook violently in Cregan's grip. "I swear. I swear! I don't know! Please!"

Cregan leaned into the man's face. "You're gonna tell me what you do know. Aren't you?"

…

"Fucking Lannisters!" Cregan's voice roared through the Watch. "Get Glover. We're leaving now."

"My lord?" One of the men asked.

"Do what I said."

"Aye."

"May house Reed learn from its mistake."

…

Little did Cregan know yet, Loreon Lannister's brigade had been stopped by the Blackwoods, just shy of Lannister territory. 

The young Lord Benjicot Blackwood had rode out to meet them when word was sent of a brigade sneaking through his land. 

He raged at the sight of a terrified woman clad in a Stark blue dress. He vowed that the Lannisters would not see to their land should they refuse to surrender the woman to him.

Hence the small battle that had commenced.

But that was two weeks ago. 

Cregan looked over the land, the blood still staining the grass. "Think they made it?"

Glover hummed. "Lord Benjicot is a formidable enemy, I've heard. Wouldn't want to anger that boy in the slightest."

"Thank fuck!" A voice yelled over the field.

Lord Benjicot rode his horse out to the group in a fast trot. He spoke when he got closer "Knew you'd be quick but I figured it would be another few weeks."

"Don't underestimate angry northern men," Glover grimaced.

"Or Blackwoods, it seems," Cregan chimed in, looking over the field. "I believe I'm indebted to you in some capacity."

"Don't speak too soon, Lord Stark," Benjicot smiled. "You haven't asked how we faired."

Cregan's brows furrowed. "And how did you fair?"

Benjicot's smile grew. 

"We have her."

Cregan reached a hand out to steady himself on his horse from the sheer relief that swept through his body. "Gods…"

"Fucking bastards should have journeyed by sea if they were smart. Should've known that any ally of the Queen is an ally of mine."

"You have her then? In Raventree Hall?" Glover asked what they were all thinking.

"I do."

Cregan voice recovered. "Take me to her. Please."

…

"My lady?" One of the Blackwood handmaidens spoke up.

Y/n looked up at the woman. 

The faint hints of scratches and bruises were still on the lady's skin, but she had been given time to heal due to the Blackwoods' bravery. But regardless, the tremor in her hands remained. 

"I've been sent to inform you of a visitor that will soon be arriving."

Her heart leaped from her chest. She found herself moving more to the window and peering out. 

Cregan.

The man and his horse moved as one. It had always impressed her. 

Her sluggish behavior left the second he came into view. 

Not caring for her shoes, her cloak, anything, she ran past the handmaiden quicker than her feet could move. 

Tripping and stumbling along the way, ignoring the pain, she finally made it to the large doors of Raventree and bolted out of them.

Cregan had just pulled his horse to a stop when he caught sight of her.

He couldn't remember actually getting down from his horse he had gotten to her so quickly.

His strong arms held her to him in a vice grip, his hands indecisive of where to stay- her waist, her back, her hair, the constant need to feel her wholly gripped him.

Equally so, her arms wrapped around his neck firmly, as if to make sure he was real. 

"Fuck. Don't ever do this again," he sighed as he placed his chin on the top of her head. 

She sobbed lightly against his chest and her hands gripped his cloak so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked in worry. 

She hiccuped through tears. 

Cregan pulled her away, cupping her cheeks so he could study her. "Speak to me, pretty girl. Where are you hurt?"

She hiccuped again. "I… I'm fine."

"Where did they touch you?"

"Cregan…"

"Where?"

Benjicot had caught up at that point. "I wouldn't say they were delicate with her, Lord Stark. Most of it is faded, but the ones on her arms are rather nasty."

Cregan never looked away from her, keeping her eye contact. He tilted his head down, silently asking to gaze at her arms.

He hesitantly pulled her sleeves up and gawked slightly. 

Green bruises still remained at her wrists, no doubt from dragging her along. He tried to ignore the faint scabs from the scrapes that laid in various spots. 

"They did a number on you, didn't they?"

She looked at him fearfully, beyond nervous for his reaction to all of this. 

Benjicot spoke up again. "You've no idea." He placed a steady hand on the woman's back, ignoring Cregan's protective glare as he did so. "You're safe here. Why don't you show him?"

"Show me what?"

She turned to look over her shoulder at Benjicot, "Must I?"

Cregan was growing frustrated. If there was one thing he hated, it was no knowing things. "Show me."

She hesitantly nodded, and Benjicot stepped up to her, untying her bodice from the back. Once he did so, he spun her around to have her back face Cregan. Then he gently pulled down her sleeve until her right shoulder blade was exposed. 

A Lannister sigil was burned into the skin. Ugly scarring around the marred flesh. 

Her head was hung in shame as she stood there, avoiding eye contact with everyone. 

Cregan's hand came up to brush the skin achingly slow. He couldn't find words. 

Benjicot broke the silence. "Amidst this, there is good news."

"I guarantee there isn't," Cregan growled back quickly.

"I have Loreon Lannister under my care as well."

Cregan's head snapped to him. "What?"

"The man is in my dungeons, Lord Stark."

Cregan's hand moved up to Y/n's hair, brushing it aside to fully view what was exposed of her back. 

But his eyes couldn't move from the brand.

"Inside, you say? Still breathing?"

Benjicot let out an amused chuckle. "I refused to take that privilege from you."

Lord Stark's hand brushed her shoulder again. "I fear I owe the Blackwoods more than I own."

…

Not long later, Cregan stepped into her room. 

She turned her head towards him.

Cregan was covered in blood.

She stood suddenly. "Are you harmed?"

His brows furrowed, looking down at himself, as if forgetting all he had done. "Oh. None of it is mine."

"You killed him?"

Cregan sighed and shut the door. "We'll not discuss this now."

"Cregan-"

"-No. Don't ask again."

Her face fell a bit. She moved to the window and sat again. 

He watched her. "Forgive me. There's still rage in my heart."

"Still? Is it because of me?"

He faltered. "No. No, of course not." He rubbed his chin. "You did nothing wrong."

"If I had journeyed to the Wall with you that day, would you have been as angry if Winterfell was attacked?"

He paused as considered her question. "You know the answer."

She hummed and looked out of the window.

He followed her gaze. "Forgive me for taking so long."

"I watched out this window."

"I know you did."

"What if Benjicot hadn't have found me?"

He sat down next to her. "He did though."

"But what if he hadn't?"

Cregan dared to reach out and pull her hair aside, tugging her sleeve down to see the brand again. 

She finally turned to look at him with teary eyes. 

"I'd rather not think about those things," Cregan answered softly.

"Will you wash yourself, please?"

He paused, remembering the blood all over him. "Sorry, sweet girl. I didn't realize that would bother you so much. I will, I promise."

She looked back to the window. "Will we go home soon?"

Cregan stood to go to the washbowl across the room. "We will in time."

"What's stopping us, Cregan?"

He didn't have the heart to actually say that it was her. "Be patient, my girl, alright?"

…

Benjicot walked with Cregan down the corridor. "I apologize that I did not manage to capture Lord Jason. That will haunt me."

Cregan shook his head, "You've done much for the North. We'll not forget this act of kindness."

Benji grinned, "The North remembers."

"Indeed."

"Tell me something, my lord?"

Cregan nodded.

"What did you do in those dungeons?"

Cregan sighed, crossing his arms over his  chest. "I wouldn't want you to think differently of me, old friend."

Benjicot shook his head, "Nothing could do so, Cregan. You've seen me rather bloody. It's only fair."

He paused and considered his words, carefully phrasing himself. "A part of me hopes that his son doesn't find out what I've done to his father. It was almost too much to bare."

"What do you mean?"

Cregan pulled his dagger from his belt, running a hand over the blade. "I'll have to sharpen this later, if you understand what I'm saying."

Benjicot nodded. "I believe I do. But more context might be beneficial."

Cregan leaned forward and spoke lowly. "The dead man wears a sigil of mine in return."

The Blackwood's eyes looked down to the dagger and back to Cregan. "I see."

"If there truly is life after death, my friend, I hope he lives the next with my reminder."

"Surely, he would. I'd say you were merciful in ending him regardless."

…

Cregan rubbed her thigh absentmindedly as the maester inspected the brand. 

"It's healing well, but as you can imagine, it will leave behind a nasty scar."

Cregan clenched his jaw at the thought of his own wife living with a lion burned onto her. "No risk of a fever?"

He shook his head. "A clean burn like this rarely risks such a thing."

"Well, the north thanks you for your work."

The maester excused himself.

Since finding her again, Cregan had a difficulty understanding what she was going through. She was bottling everything up, he could tell. 

"Sweet girl?" He asked gently, continuing to rub at her leg.

"Is it ugly?" She responded quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Cregan wasn't sure what to say to that. "It looks painful. Is it?"

She hummed, eyes still anchored. "It didn't hurt as much as the laughs."

"They laughed? While they did this to you?"

She nodded. 

Her hand moved up to pull her sleeve back up, but Cregan was quick to stop her, placing his hand over hers. 

She looked up questioningly.

"You're as gorgeous as the day I met you." His other hand moved hair behind her ear. "And as beautiful as the day I married you. As well as when I left for the Wall this winter." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. "You're just changed is all."

"But the-"

"-Yes. Yes, it pains me to see it. But not because of what it is, but because you were hurt and I did not defend you as I should have."

Silence fell over them until she spoke up.

"Tell me I'm yours."

Cregan froze. "What?"

"I need to hear it. To really know."

"Well, you are. You know that."

"Please, Cregan."

Cregan stood from the bed, rounding it until he was behind her. He reached out and brushed the brand again, trying to ignore the shiver that went down her spine. "You're mine."

The words relaxed her, her shoulders moving down.

Cregan placed his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them. "You belong to the Warden of the North." He grinned. "A vile and vicious beast intent on killing anything that nears it. Almost anything."

She smiled lightly, the first one in weeks. "And what is that one thing that the wolf likes?"

"A pretty she-wolf that brings down his defense."

One of his hands moved to the back of her neck and she all but melted, her head leaning back now. 

He continued this for a while, letting the silence sit, but he soon leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to the marred skin of her shoulder. 

"You're mine." He kissed her shoulder. "And I don't need a brand to prove so." He kissed behind her ear. "You know who you belong to, don't you?"

"…you, Cregan."

"Hmm?" He feigned. 

"You."

He smirked and nipped at her ear. "And who is that? Tell me."

She turned as much as her injuries could allow. Her voice softened as his eyes gazed into hers. "Cregan Stark. I belong to Cregan Stark."

"And I do to you, pretty girl."

He closed the distance, placing the softest kiss he'd ever managed onto her lips.

When they pulled away from one another, she spoke. "Do we get to return soon?"

He nodded, twirling her hair between his fingers. "Soon. I'm only waiting for Lord Bolton to arrive with the men."

"Th… what?"

He puffed out his chest in pride. "I don't do well with spoiled southerners. Bolton is riding an army to the border of Lannister territory, with Benjicot's permission, of course."

"An army? You can't start a war over me."

"I didn't start anything, my love." He kissed her again. "I only finish it."

.........................................................

Taglist: @strengthandstay, @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

[woolysium]

Anatomy Lesson

﹒♡﹒Pairing: Yunho + Mingi (college AU) x reader

﹒♡﹒Summary: As med students, you, Yunho, and Mingi have spent countless hours studying anatomy together—but in this study session, anatomical diagrams turn into hands-on lessons.

﹒♡﹒Word count: 4k

﹒♡﹒Genre: smut (MDNI)

﹒♡﹒Warning: pure filth, very nsfw, threesome, restraint, hand kink, choking, unprotected sex (a no no irl), double penetration, rough sex, very dom!Yunho, whiny mess!Mingi, Mingi is very desperate, teasing, overstimulation (let me know if i miss anything ig its too long)

﹒♡﹒Request: @mingi-s-dimples "Hey pooks 🙂‍↕️💖 it's me, Bia! I'd love to read something written by your for me sooo here is my request 😋😋 Yungi x reader, college au studying anatomy (I have the biggest yungi brainrot rn I'm so sorry + I'm studying anatomy as we speak). They've been study buddies since they started uni 2 yrs ago and they always met to study tgt. SO I'd love to read how reader is like into them but is too shy to tell them and the boys are like.. also kinda into her but they thought it's be weird to like.. tell her cause it'd be a 3some. NOT ANYMORE !! They study anatomy and reader starts touching them intimately explaining some of the structures (for ex thigh/abs and so on) and Mingi for ex gets turned on from it and gets a boner duh. They have some small talk and then they yk.. have a 3some 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ sigh. Anyways, I'd love to see: restraining with their bodies/hand kink/slight choking/double penetration (is not a kink ik), praise, teasing 😌 Gave you all the details I'd love to see and THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH LOVE YOUU 😋💖💖💖"

﹒♡﹒Author's note: This took longer than I expected, and filthier.... I never knew i could do this good until now lmao. Anyways this is a long ass fic, and cheers to my babe Bia for requesting it, even though i kinda died at the end so it looks rushed but, hope you like it, I love your idea so so much. It was a ride writing this, I had to research a shit ton on anatomy, but it was fun tho. This is not proofread thoroughly since it's too long and i was getting sleepy, so please ignore any errors. Enjoy the meal. I love you Bia 💜

You’ve known Yunho and Mingi since the first day of med school. Being more of an introvert, you usually keep to yourself, avoiding any unnecessary attention. But that day, the only open seat was right in the middle of the lecture hall. Yunho and Mingi showed up late, looking a bit lost, and ended up grabbing the two seats on either side of you.

At first, you figured they were just two extroverted guys who’d probably drift off to make other friends once they settled in—exactly the type you usually avoid. But as the lecture went on, they kept leaning over to ask for help, clearly struggling with the material. Yunho, with his easy smile and laid-back vibe, nudged you and whispered, “Think you could explain this? We’re kinda lost.” Mingi, with a shy grin that made him seem more approachable than his confident appearance suggested, nodded along.

You explained the basics, and they were grateful enough to ask if you’d study together outside of class. Despite your initial hesitation, you said yes, you couldn’t even believe yourself. From there, study sessions became a regular thing—quiet corners of the library or your living room, where you’d help them with the tough stuff, and they’d bring snacks and keep the mood light. They made everything feel a bit more bearable at least, even the late-night cram sessions.

Two years later, the three of you are still a team, but things have changed. Somewhere along the way, simple glances and casual touches started to linger. And there were moments—small, fleeting ones—where you could swear they were feeling it too. Like when Yunho would shift closer to you on the couch, his arm draped casually behind your shoulders, his fingers brushing the back of your neck just enough to make your skin tingle. Or when Mingi’s hand would find your lower back during those late-night coffee runs, the touch lingering a little too long to be just friendly. But no one ever said anything about it, all of you dancing around the unspoken tension that had begun to define your time together.

Tonight is just another study session at your place, and you don’t really think much about anything else other than the lessons. You're all spread out across your bed—Yunho sitting up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out, Mingi lying on his side next to him, propped up on one elbow. You sit cross-legged facing them, surrounded by notes and anatomy diagrams.

You're pointing out different muscle groups and explaining their connections, but you notice the looks of confusion on their faces. With a little laugh, you suggest, “Guys, I think it would be better to show you directly. How about I demonstrate them on your body?” Totally innocent request, or so you thought.

Yunho glances at Mingi, who shrugs with a faint smirk. “Yeah sure. Might be easier to understand that way,” Yunho says, scooching to the side a bit to make space for you. Mingi stretches out beside him, nodding along.

You start with Yunho, tracing the lines of his arm, outlining the biceps and triceps as you explain each muscle group. “So, here’s the biceps brachii,” you murmur, fingers gently pressing along the length of his upper arm, feeling the firmness beneath. Yunho listens intently, his usual playful smile tempered by a newfound focus as he watches your hand. “And just behind here, the triceps—helps with arm extension,” you continue, trailing your hand down the back of his arm. His body is relaxed under your touch, but there’s a slight shift in his breathing when your fingers glide over his chest and down to his abs, the smooth firmness beneath your fingertips making you a little more aware of the warmth radiating between you.

When you move over to Mingi, the atmosphere tenses up even more, you are oblivious, somehow. You run your fingers along his chest, explaining the pectorals. “This is the pectoralis major—it’s responsible for moving the arm across the body,” you say softly, your hand tracing the broad curve of his chest. He listens closely, his breathing grows a bit deeper as you outline each muscle. You continue downward, fingertips gliding over his defined abs. “And here’s the rectus abdominis… your core muscles.” Mingi’s body tenses beneath your touch, brows furrowing as he bites his lips, trying to control his reaction.

“This part—your obliques, they help with twisting movements,” you add, tracing the defined muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. Your touch follows the natural curve of his hip, then skims lower. It’s meant to be purely academic, but then your fingers slide over the curve of his hip and graze against the waistband of his jeans.

You’re about to pull away when your hand slips, just slightly, brushing over his crotch. You freeze, the realization hitting you like a jolt, the feeling of Mingi’s arousal under your fingertips sending a rush of warmth to your own cheeks. Mingi’s breath catches audibly, his body tensing beneath your touch. You glance up at him, heart racing, but his expression is caught somewhere between surprise and something more intense, his face flushed.

Before you can say anything, you catch the way Yunho's expression has changed too. There’s a heat in his eyes as he looks between you and Mingi, cheeks a little flushed and his breath coming out uneven, though he’s still trying to keep up his usual playful front. "You know, you might be a little too good at this," he says, his voice dropping, teasing but rougher than usual.

The air in the room feels thicker, making your heart beat faster. Yunho moves in closer, his gaze darker, watching you in a way that makes you swallow hard. There’s this electric charge between the three of you now, impossible to ignore. For a second, it’s like time stops—none of you quite sure how to navigate this shift, but aware that something's definitely changed.

Yunho’s usual teasing grin fades when he catches your gaze, something more serious in his eyes. His breath hitches, and you notice how he glances from your eyes to your lips, then back again, like he’s debating what to do. The room goes quiet, and the tension is thick enough to make you feel like you’re holding your breath.

You swallow hard, nerves making your voice waver as you finally break the silence. “I... I’ve liked both of you for a while now,” you admit, your cheeks heating with embarrassment. “But I was too scared to say anything. I thought... I thought you’d find it weird, or that it would ruin everything.”

Mingi lets out a breath he’s been holding, his expression softening even as his lips curl into a smirk, a mixture of relief and disbelief paints his face. “You serious?” He glances over at Yunho, who gives a slow, almost doubtful nod, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing either. Mingi’s hand moves to rest on your thigh, his grip firm, sending a jolt through you. “Look, Y/N. We’ve been into you for so long, but we thought you’d be freaked out by the idea... of being with both of us like this, you know.”

Yunho’s hand tilts your chin so you’re looking right at him. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and his voice drops lower. “Yeah, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But if you’re saying you’re into this too...” His other hand slides to your waist, tugging you a bit closer. “Maybe we’ve been holding back for no reason.”

You shiver under their touch, heat pooling low in your stomach as the reality of the situation sinks in. Mingi’s thumb strokes slow circles on your thigh, his other hand trailing up your back. Yunho leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “So... what do you want, really?” 

You catch your breath, feeling their warmth pressed against you from both sides. You look at them, and it’s like all the unspoken feelings are right there on their faces. A nervous smile tugs at your lips as you admit, “I want... both of you.”

Mingi’s grip tightens, and Yunho’s breath comes out in a low, almost relieved sigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dam breaking—no more restraint, just the three of you finally letting go of the tension that’s been building for so long.

The bed dips under their weight as Yunho settles behind you, Mingi in front. The heat radiating from their bodies is intoxicating, and you shiver as Yunho’s rough hand grips your jaw, tilting your head back. “Look at you. Already so needy,” he growls, the pad of his thumb grazing your lower lip, sending a thrill straight to your core.

His lips crash into yours, rough and eager, as if he can’t hold back a second longer. His hands are everywhere—one cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, the other slipping beneath your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His grip is firm, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer.

Mingi’s hands tug at the hem of your shirt, impatience lacing his movements. He pulls the fabric up and over your head, his fingers fumbling slightly as he tosses it aside. “He’s always in such a hurry,” Yunho teases, his voice a low rumble against your lips, but there’s a smirk in his tone that says he’s just as eager.

Your bra is the next to go, Mingi’s hands quickly unhook it and slide it down your arms. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue wetting his lips. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs, his breath coming in shallow pants. He palms your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from you as he rolls them between his fingers, his touch alternating between gentle and rough.

Yunho’s hand trails down your side, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He yanks them down in one swift motion, along with your panties, leaving you completely bare between them. He pulls back just enough to admire the sight, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “You’re beautiful, I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” he says, but there’s a rough edge to his voice that sends a shiver through you.

His breath is warm against your ear, his hands trailing down your sides, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch. He pulls you closer against him, his large hands sliding over your thighs before gently urging them apart. He holds you open, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady while the other spreads you wider, his fingers brushing against your slickness as he exposes you to Mingi.

Meanwhile, Mingi’s hands roam over your thighs, pushing them apart as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers tease along the edge of your crotch, just barely brushing over your wetness.

“Already soaked, huh?” Mingi’s voice is husky, tinged with a whine as his fingers press harder, rubbing slow circles over the soaked heat. He’s watching you, eyes blown wide with lust, lips parted as he takes in every little reaction. He lets out a shaky breath, his impatience bleeding through. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Yunho’s hand wraps around your throat, fingers tighten slightly, cutting off your reply. “Mingi, quit messing around,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. His fingers slowly twisting your nipples, hard enough to make you gasp. “She wants it rough, so let’s not make her wait.”

Mingi, positioned between your legs, drinks in the sight of you with darkened eyes, a low groan escaping him. “Yunho, she’s so wet for us,” he mutters, his voice husky with desire. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips trailing a path closer to where you need him most, his breath teasing your skin and making you squirm in Yunho’s hold.

Yunho tightens his grip, keeping you steady, a smirk playing on his lips as he feels you try to press closer to Mingi. “Easy, baby. Let him take his time with you,” Yunho murmurs, his tone low and commanding, his fingers brushing along your inner thigh as he keeps you spread wide for Mingi.

Mingi glances up at you through half-lidded eyes, his mouth hovering just inches away from your core, and you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. “You ready for this?” he asks, his usual confidence cracking just enough to reveal the desperation underneath. He doesn’t wait for your answer before leaning in, his tongue dragging slowly over your folds, tasting you with a groan that vibrates against your skin.

You gasp, your head falling back against Yunho’s shoulder as the sensation crashes through you. Mingi’s mouth is relentless, his tongue working you over with a rhythm that has your thighs shaking, but Yunho’s grip keeps you from closing your legs, keeps you open and exposed to every lick, every gentle suck. He spreads you wider with his fingers, giving Mingi the perfect angle, and Mingi takes full advantage, his tongue dipping inside you before dragging back up to circle your clit, teasing you mercilessly.

Yunho’s lips find your neck again, pressing rough kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing over your pulse point. “Look at you, falling apart already,” he whispers, his voice filled with amusement as he watches the way your chest heaves with every breath. “Mingi, I think she likes that,” he teases, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi pulls back just enough to speak, his voice low and rough. “She tastes so good, Yunho... I don’t think I can stop,” he admits, his usual confidence slipping into a more desperate edge. He dives back in with a hunger, his tongue working faster now, alternating between soft licks and harsher, more focused attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue until you’re crying out, your hands clutching at Yunho’s arm for support.

Yunho groans softly at the sound of your moans, his own arousal pressing hard against your lower back. He lets one hand drift down, his fingers grazing over Mingi’s jaw as he works, a silent encouragement as he keeps you pinned in place, making sure you can’t escape the overwhelming pleasure. “Yeah, that’s it, Mingi... make her fall apart,” Yunho breathes, his own voice thick with desire as he watches the scene unfold.

Mingi’s pace grows more frantic, his lips and tongue driving you to the edge, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he devours you like he’s starving. The combination of Yunho’s firm, steady grip and Mingi’s relentless mouth leaves you helpless between them, your body arching as the tension builds, heat pooling low in your belly until you can’t hold back anymore.

“Yunho, please... I—” Your words dissolve into a choked moan as Mingi’s tongue circles your clit faster, pushing you right to the brink. Yunho’s hand slides back to your throat, not applying pressure but just resting there, a reminder that he’s the one in control, a reminder of how completely you’re at their mercy.

“That’s it, baby. Come for us,” Yunho whispers against your ear, his thumb stroking over your pulse as if feeling the way it races beneath his touch. His other hand tightens on your thigh, holding you wide open for Mingi’s tongue, making sure you can’t escape the intense sensations that roll through you in waves.

And when your release finally crashes over you, it’s like everything shatters—your body shaking between them as Mingi holds you steady, his tongue slowing but never stopping, drawing out every last aftershock until you’re a trembling mess in their hands. Yunho’s grip softens, turning soothing as he brushes his lips against your temple, “Good girl,” his voice soft in a low register.

Mingi pulls away from you, lips slick and pupils blown wide, catching his breath as he watches the way your body trembles. He flashes you a wild grin, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he takes in the sight of you coming undone. “You’ve got no idea how good you look like this,” he murmurs, voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.

Yunho’s large hand cups your jaw, his fingers pressing gently but firmly as he tilts your head back, stealing your breath with a demanding kiss. His tongue slides against yours, leaving you dizzy with the heat of his mouth, while his free hand drifts between your legs. His long fingers find the slickness Mingi left behind, sliding inside you with ease, spreading your pussy open, curling to press against that sensitive spot that makes you gasp into his mouth. He groans at how ready you are, his own control slipping as he pumps his fingers slowly, making you arch against him.

“Think she’s ready for us, Yunho?” Mingi teases, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, his voice tinged with a playful edge even as his own breath comes out shaky. His hands press your legs open wider, his grip rough and eager, holding you in place beneath him.

Yunho pulls back, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks. “More than ready,” he murmurs, his tone low and dark. He withdraws his fingers, leaving you clenching around nothing, and Mingi’s lips twitch into a smirk as he watches the way your hips move, seeking more. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing the toned muscles beneath, and shoves his jeans down in a hurry, his cock heavy in his hand as he strokes himself, his eyes glued to the way you tremble beneath them.

They both shed the last of their clothes, and the sight of them—Mingi with a desperation in his eyes, his cock hard and leaking, and Yunho’s self-assured composure as he strokes himself slowly—has heat pooling in your belly all over again.

Yunho catches Mingi’s eye, and there’s a shared look between them—a look that you can’t quite make out of. Mingi huffs out a breath, a smirk curling his lips even as his hands tighten on your thighs. “Ready to make her feel good, aren’t we?” Yunho taunts, his tone edged with a dangerous kind of promise.

Mingi’s response is a low hum as he settles between your legs again, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. He presses a final kiss to your thigh, his lips soft before he lines himself up with your entrance. “You’re gonna take us both, sweetheart. You up for that?”

Yunho’s grip tightens on your jaw, guiding your head back so you’re looking at him, his expression dark and intense. “She can take it. Can’t you?” he challenges, his thumb brushing over your lips, the pressure making your breath hitch. You nod, can’t even form words, and a satisfied smirk tugs at Yunho’s mouth.

Mingi eases himself inside you, inch by inch, his moan vibrating through you as he stretches you open. The way his big dick fills you is almost overwhelming, his rough grip grounding you as he bottoms out, shuddering against you. “Fuck, she’s so tight... I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that,” he’s breathless, barely keeping himself together as your body tightens around him.

Yunho smirks, his fingers flexing against your throat. “She likes it, Mingi,” he murmurs, the dominance in his tone sending a thrill through you both. He moves his hand to your clit, his touch unrelenting, and the added sensation sends you spiraling, your body arching back into him as he drives you higher.

Yunho’s smirk widens, his gaze tracking every twitch of your expression as he positions himself behind you, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance alongside Mingi’s. He moves slowly, letting the stretch settle in, and you gasp at the sensation, the stretch is intense, burning in the most delicious way as your body struggles to adjust. They both push forward, filling you to the brim, and you can’t hold back the sharp cry that escapes you, the sensation leaving you breathless.

Yunho’s breath ghosts over your skin, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Look at how desperate he is for you,” he taunts, his fingers pressing down on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “But you love it, don’t you? Being filled like this, over and over until you can’t even think straight.”

Mingi’s head snaps up at that, his lips curling into a defiant smirk even as his movements falter, every thrust turning sloppy and wild. “She loves it... I can feel how tight she gets every time you touch her,” he gasps out, his voice cracking into a moan as Yunho’s fingers tighten their grip, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, and he holds you there, his grip firm as he watches the way your lips part, vision going hazy. Mingi loses himself in the rhythm, his cock twitching inside you as he chases the edge of release, his desperation palpable in every shuddering breath.

You can feel Mingi’s pace falters, his head dropping to your shoulder as his breath stutters against your skin. “Fuck, I can’t hold back... she’s driving me crazy,” he groans, his voice breaking on a whimper as he feels the way you clench around him.

From behind you, Yunho chuckles, his own control slipping as his hips snap forward, burying himself deeper inside you. “Don’t hold back,” he growls. “Make her come again.” The dual sensations of their thrusts, the weight of their bodies, and the intimacy of the moment push you closer to the edge, and you feel the tension building again. “I can’t—oh, God, I’m so close!” you cry, your nails digging into Mingi’s arms as you cling to him.

The room fills with the sounds of your combined breaths, the wet slap of skin against skin, and the low, breathless curses spilling from Mingi’s lips. His hand slips, reaching back to grip Yunho’s wrist, grounding himself as he rocks into you with wild abandon, his moans turning needy and high-pitched as he finally loses himself in the pleasure.

Yunho increases his pace, and Mingi’s fingers dig into your skin as he matches the intensity. “That’s it, just let go,” he encourages, his voice a desperate plea.

The heat spirals through you, the sensation of being double filled amplifying everything. Your body arches back against Yunho, and with a final thrust from both sides—it pushes you over, and you come with a broken cry, clenching down around them.

Mingi loses it then, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you with a choked moan, his whole body shuddering against yours. Yunho isn’t far behind, his grip on you steady as he pushes deep one last time, burying himself as he loses control. He keeps moving through the aftershocks, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until you’re a trembling, spent mess in their arms.

They hold you there, their bodies pressed against yours, the heat of the moment fading into a heavy, sated silence. Mingi’s head rests on your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin, while Yunho’s hand gently loosens around your throat, his lips pressing a softer kiss to the side of your neck.

You’re all left panting, tangled together in a messy heap, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. Mingi pulls out first, dropping back onto the bed with a breathless laugh. “Fuck, that was... intense.”

Yunho wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you against him as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Yeah, it was an intense anatomy lesson, but she took it like a champ,” he murmurs, voice full of pride. “Didn’t you, babe?”

You nod weakly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you relax into their warmth. “Yeah... I did.”

by @woolysium

[the-thing-withfeathers]

the archer’s arrow part 1 (w.a.)

something’s wrong

next part

a/n: heyy my loves. as some of you know, i have no wifi for a little bit cause yup dorm life. i managed to recover this from my offline files. i’d love to hear what you all think of it <3

pairing: wednesday addams x female reader

warnings: cursing, mean!wednesday, rejection. extremely not proofread.

➶ ➶ ➶

she had rejected you then, you remember it clear as day.

it was a good day. the perfect day.

you had been hyping yourself up to do it. yoko & enid gave you extra encouragement. they were so positive that she would say yes.

“addams!” you called out after her, jogging while fumbling your bookbag on your shoulder. you held a black rose in your hand.

she spun around, her eyes glaring right into your soul. you nearly froze, coming to a stop directly in front of her. you always found her pretty, those cute braids had you reeling for ages. but once, you caught her with her hair down, you thought you might die.

it was an accident, of course. it was a night that enid hadn’t warned you to knock before coming in. you bursted in and there she was, her hair down as she changed into sleeping clothes.

you thought about it for days.

“what is it?” she said with a raised eyebrow.

sure, she scared the living hell out of you. but you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to get close to her.

the past few months have been a work-in-progress for you. you started out by joining her as she wrote while waiting for enid. you took a special interest in viper, making sure to always ask her about her progress. she hesitated to tell you initially, but then she started to tell you without you having to ask the question.

then you started to join her outside of her writing. at lunch, you sat next to her. in the library, there you were not even an inch away. she found herself asking you to join her on her escapades in the forest.

it felt nice dedicating time to the raven-haired girl. you thoroughly enjoyed her company— and you were sure she enjoyed yours too.

“i was wondering if… if maybe…” you stuttered out, handing the rose to her.

“spit it out.” she said. you sensed that she was particularly mean today. but that was how she was most of the time.

“if maybe you wanted to go out sometime?” you asked, a sheepish smile on your face.

wednesday furrowed her eyebrows at you, distaste clear on her face.

“what? no.” she spat out and shook her head. “what makes you think i want that?”

your eyes went wide, shocked at her response. you knew wednesday wasn’t particularly kind— you don’t know why you thought she would let you down gently.

“i don’t have any form of interest in you.” she hissed. “did you think because we spent not even a fraction of time together that i liked you?”

‘the worst she could say is no!’ enid said. nope. this was significantly worse.

“no… i…” you tried to say something, anything. but you were completely stunned silent.

wednesday grabbed the rose from your hand, snapping the stem in half and tossing it towards your chest. your hand flew towards it, catching it. it was the perfect metaphor for your heart shattering.

“wednesday…” you managed to get out, whispering the girl’s name.

“what?” she made an annoyed face at you.

“is… is something wrong?” you asked, your voice almost pleading. you had a weird feeling in your stomach, like something definitely wasn’t right.

“what’s wrong is that you’re bothering me. get lost.” her voice sounded so hateful. you’d never heard so much venom from her before.

she spun back around and simply walked off.

you stood there, shocked. that was the first time you’d ever confessed your feelings for someone. you felt like you could throw up from how harsh her rejection was.

you ran off to tell enid and yoko about it, you were close to tears.

“she hates me!” you sobbed out. “i thought we were friends but she just hates me!”

“she doesn’t hate you, darling.” yoko said, rubbing your back.

“i will have words with her!” enid growled softly. your breathing started to stabilize.

“don’t, enid. it’s fine. it’s not worth it.” you stopped her. you didn’t want to piss wednesday off more.

“it’s just not worth it.”

the next few weeks were absolute hell on earth. you didn’t realise how much influence wednesday actually had until you found yourself sitting alone again at lunch. the library no longer was the hub for studying for your friends, they would gather in their own rooms. your only socialization came from the archery club.

enid was your last link to that group. yoko started to get busy with her own confession to divina being successful. even then, she would come to your room instead of you going over there.

as for wednesday, you only saw her five more times aside from class before you left nevermore.

one. with eugene.

you sometimes interacted with him when it came to the hummers. you came from a family of hunters, it was how your archery skills were so good. he’d often ask for your assistance in collecting herbs from the forest. when you came in with a bag of fresh herbs, you spotted wednesday in the corner of the tent. she was using a mortar and pestel, presumably related to why they needed the herbs.

“wednesday, can you grab those please?” eugene said, his hands busy with the bee hive. wednesday turned to look at you, her jaw tightened. you guessed that she wouldn’t like seeing you.

you held out the little bag, her hand hovering under it. you dropped it into her hand and flashed a thin smile at her. she simply turned around and went back to her work. she tossed the small bag to the side, like it was radioactive.

“see ya, eugene.” you quickly made your way out of the tent.

two. at your archery tournament.

you were practicing especially hard for this tournament. it was an inter-school competition and you would be going against so many other students.

you were nervous, more than nervous.

you prepared to enter the competition grounds where you would be introduced. as the lights shone on the entryway, you jogged out, waving at the audience. your family was there somewhere, as were some of your newfound friends. you asked enid if she wanted to come but her answer was unsure.

you took your place at one of the arranged shooting aisles, squinting to see if you could find your family.

as you spotted them, you also spotted a blonde girl with colourful streaks sitting next to them. you waved in their general direction but towards enid specifically.

your wave faltered as you also noticed a shorter, darker-haired girl next to her.

addams?

you thought for a second then realised. of course, she would be here for xavier. you heard they were getting closer recently.

your body language changed, you were suddenly scared again. it was like nothing had changed.

you shot your little heart out the entire tournament. you were a force of nature. the fear turned into determination. you pictured wednesday addam’s face right on the damn bullseye.

“first place goes to…” the man on the stage said into his mic.

and then the world slowed down for you, the noise was drowned out.

the next thing you felt was your entire team’s arms around you, cheers erupting from their mouths.

you won. first fucking place.

three. at weem’s office.

you had gotten called over the loudspeaker that there was a message waiting for you at the princpal’s office.

safe to say that you were quite worried about it. you didn’t know what to expect. you were a good kid, you never got into trouble. maybe you did something you didn’t even know was against the rules.

you made your way down the long hallway from class, picking at your fingernails.

she was walking out as you were walking in.

you turned the corner and accidentally bumped into her, colliding with her smaller figure.

you grabbed her waist to steady her then quickly stumbled backwards, trying to take your hands off her as fast as possible.

“sorry, didn’t mean to.” you raised both your hands in defense.

“whatever.” she muttered, walking past you.

principal weems grabbed a letter out from a drawer in her desk.

“here, darling.” she handed you the envelope. you recognized the seal with ease.

a smile creeped up your face as you tore open the envelope, gripping the letter so hard that your knuckles turned while.

you turned to weems and nodded once, your eyes crinkling from happiness.

“congratulations, sweetheart.”

four. in the forest.

she didn’t see you, you were in the trees. you were practicing your stealth for when you went back home to visit your family. with the killing of animals not permitted in the forests, you knew your family was going to tease you for not being in shape. you were perched on a branch that was directly beside her. she had sat down to read a book.

she was probably one of the only people brave enough to casually spent hours in the forest. you held onto the branch above you as your eyes were trained on her. you loved how cute she looked when she was focused on something. you watched as her eyes trailed over the words. she looked particularly stressed, like she was forcing herself to read.

you worried for her despite all she said to you on that day. you still cared for her, so you showed concern as you noticed her throw the book off to the side in frustration. you jumped down as she stood up abruptly.

“wednesday.” you called out. normally, people would flinch. but not her.

“god, can’t seem to get rid of you.” she groaned.

“something’s wrong.” you stated, “what’s wrong, wednesday?”

“can’t you just leave it alone?!” she screamed at you, her hands flailing in the air. “you don’t have to be so good all the time! sometimes things are better without you around!” she stormed off, bumping your shoulder as she made her way out of the forest.

you turned around to watch her, tears brimming in your eyes. you should have known better.

five. the day you left.

you had come into enid & wednesday’s shared room to collect a quiver you left there for enid to bedazzle. she wanted to do it so you wouldn’t forget her— and to say good luck.

enid was busy getting final preparations for your goodbye so she sent you there alone.

you knocked three times before realising the door was open. you poked your head in only to see wednesday holding the quiver.

“sorry, that’s mine.” you stepped inside, moving closer to her.

“i know. enid’s archery game is questionable at best.” wednesday scoffed, turning around to look at you. she pushed the quiver against your chest. “heard you were leaving. got poached by that elite archer school.”

“yeah… i’m just grabbing this then going.” you shook the quiver as a gesture.

“good. at least we can finally get some peace around here.” she said, sharply turning and walking to her balcony. “nevermore is better without you.” she followed up as she opened the door formed in the glass window.

“bye, wednesday.” you called out loud enough for her to hear. she froze in place and just sneered, walking out.

you sighed softly and exited her room. you left ophelia hall, turning back only once to whisper a faint goodbye.

as your final luggages were being lifted into the car, you received hugs from your friends. some gifts, some cheek kisses.

and as you departed, you swear you could hear the faint noise of a cello.

and now you were back.

you were back and better than ever.

you decided to finish your senior year at nevermore, wanting to be one with your people again.

you thrived at the archery academy, you grew stronger and sharper. your skills were as enhanced as ever. but you were ready to come home to your roots.

you held your head high as you walked into weem’s office once again. she sent you a message to meet her at her office on your first day back.

you knocked on her door three times and heard a “come in!”.

you cracked the door open slowly, she stood from her desk with open arms as she saw you.

“welcome back!” she beamed at you, you jogged towards her for a hug. “look at you. you’ve grown!”

she was right, you had grown since she last saw you. your constant physical activity allowed for a growth spurt.

“i can’t believe you’re back.” she said, comical disbelief in her voice.

“neither. but the academy was full of normies, i missed the solidarity i had here.” you nodded, “and i heard the archery team has made improvements.”

“yes, it has. including introducing the team captain— which i would like you to be.” weems said, her warm smile always made you feel comfort.

“i would love to. i’m excited to get started.” you clasped your hands together.

“good! well… i’ll let you get back to moving in. you’ll have your old room at ophelia hall again, enid is waiting to welcome you.”

you expected nothing less.

as you reached the front of ophelia hall with all your belongings, enid ran straight into you, enveloping you in her arms.

“enid!” you exclaimed as you dropped your duffel bags to hug her back. “you nearly toppled me!”

“i’m sorry! i just got too excited!” she pulled away and grabbed your bags on the floor. “c’mon!” she said, excitedly.

“enid! slow down!” you called after your bubbly friend, she was running way too fast for you to keep up. curse her werewolf energy.

you managed to catch up eventually, but then enid was already on the way back down to grab the rest of your things. you figured she could handle it by herself if she kept going like this. you sat on your bed, the other bed was empty as your old roommate had graduated.

you heard your door open again, scoffing at the noise.

“jesus enid, you work fast as h—“ not enid.

wednesday. wednesday addams.

“wednesday.” you breathed out softly. she had grown too. her braids had gotten significantly longer, she grew into her face more. she clenched her jaw at you— did she really still hate you after all this time?

“so enid was telling the truth, you are back.” she huffed softly. “you shouldn’t have.”

you rolled your eyes at her. “i’m done with this, wednesday.” you waved a hand at her in dismissal. “you can’t seriously still hate me.”

“no. i’m serious. you shouldn’t have come back.” it was almost like she was warning you. she was staring at you like she hoped you weren’t real. you could tell that there was something bigger she wanted to tell you.

“what? wednesday…” your face scrunched in confusion. it was cut off by enid entering your room, dropping three duffel bags on your floor.

“all done!” she dusted her hands together.

“thanks, enid.” you chuckled. “honestly, it looked like lightwork to you. did you get much stronger after wolfing out then?”

“hell yeah!” enid flexed her arms as a joke. “you better believe it!”

the two of you laughed, your arms crossing over your chest.

wednesday was starting to get annoyed, was she just not in your line of sight? there was a time that she was all you saw, but now it’s like she was just a dust speck.

she had to make you understand. she was about to speak again until enid interrupted.

“okay wends, we better let her unpack.” enid spoke up, grabbing wednesday’s shoulders and turning her around.

you waved to the both of them.

as you sat back down on your bed, you couldn’t get wednesday’s warning out of your head.

did wednesday know something that you didn’t? was there a reason she was being so mean to you?

you shook your thoughts away, opting to rest your eyes. you slept all your worries away, instead looking forward to your second nevermore journey.

➶ ➶ ➶

wednesday didn’t think you would be back— ever.

she thought her efforts were good enough to keep you away. she was wrong, she should have tried harder to make your life at nevermore a nightmare.

“hey wends?” enid asked her from across the room. “how are you feeling about her being back, really?”

“it’s horrific. this is one of those days that bring me dread— and i mean these words literally.” she said, pacing back and forth. “i normally enjoy dread— just not today.”

“you harbor way too much hate for her. she’s never done anything to you!” enid put her phone down on the bedside in frustration. “is this all because she asked you out?!” enid couldn’t believe it.

“yes.” wednesday said, lying through her teeth.

“seriously?” enid rubbed her fingers over her eyes, growing more annoyed with her roommate.

“yes. i’m serious.” wednesday responded, sitting down on her bed. “i have to get her out of here again.”

“wednesday friday addams!” enid stood, wednesday’s eyes showed some form fear for the first time in a long time. she didn’t enjoy when enid was like this. “you will do no such thing! she’s back because she wanted to be around people like her! you don’t get to make her an outcast in a school for outcasts!” enid’s claws unleashed themselves, a sign of her geniune anger.

wednesday sighed in defeat, her eyes closing, a sign that she needed to think.

enid grumbled before returning to her phone usage. wednesday was acting strange— stranger. and enid had no idea how to help.

➶ ➶ ➶

wednesday stepped onto the grass, her eyes narrowing at the subject in front of her.

the muscles in your back tensed as you drew your bow. you were focused on a target a few meters away from you. you exhaled slowly.

“hello.” she spoke.

“fuck!” you jumped. the arrow flying straight past the target. “addams! jesus…” you held a hand over your heart. “what’re you doing here?”

“came to watch you practice.” she said, firmly. you were taken aback by her answer.

“watch… me… practice?” you repeated back to her in a question.

“yes. i want to write a study about archery.” she came up with a lie to make it more convincing.

“oh… okay?” you tilted your head at her. “what’s the catch? come to stab me with an arrow maybe?” you prodded a bit more.

“no. i just want to have a better idea of the sport.” she shrugged.

“wednesday, you’re an archer too. you’ve done this well enough.” you pulled an arrow from your quiver, lining it up with the bow.

“i know. but i haven’t done it in a while.” she took a seat directly behind you. it was weird to have her just staring straight at you. you shot another arrow and hit the bullseye.

“your form has gotten better.” she commented. you turned your head only slightly.

“after two years of rigorous training, i sure as hell hope so.” you bent down to grab your water bottle, taking a swig of it.

“you should have stayed with it.” wednesday stared up at you, “i don’t know why you’re throwing it all away to come back here.”

you sighed as you drew your bow again, “sometimes normies are just… they don’t get it. they just don’t.” you shot another arrow, hitting the red.

“i suppose. but you’ve never had a problem with normies. you blend in well.”

“okay, wednesday. look…” you turned to her, setting your bow down. “i’ll let you watch me practice if you stop asking me about why i came back, okay?”

“fine.” she begrudgingly agreed.

you turned back to the target, concluding the rest of your practice. you packed away quickly seeing as wednesday helped. she knew her way around the equipment so you were more than happy to accept her help.

“thank you, addams.” you smiled at her as you two got everything packed away. she remained silent.

“when do you practice next?” she questioned you, almost like an interrogation.

“tomorrow at 6pm. i practice in the forest.”

her breath hitched in her throat and you squinted at her.

“don’t you have other places to practice?” she asked and you were left wondering why she didn’t want to go to the forest. she was normally comfortable there.

“i like the forest. it’s better to be in the environment. i get to practice against wind more as well.” you clarified.

“fine. okay. i’ll be there.” she crossed her arms and started to walk away.

she amused you everyday, this one. no wonder you were so drawn to her.

however, over the two years you’d been away, you knew not to let yourself be vulnerable to people who would just hurt you.

and in doing so, you closed your heart to wednesday addams.

➶ ➶ ➶

author’s journal

heyyy pookie nation!!! this is gonna be a little three?? parter that i’ve put together quickly in this internet outage. it’s the only thing i’ve got saved offline so we’ll have to work with what we have right now. i’ve been wanting to write something proper for wednesday so i hope you guys enjoy this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

i hope to put more stuff out asap <33

kisses xx

[chlix]

sharpest tool

bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it

genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)

word count: 2.9k

warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues

a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀

“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.

“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.

“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”

You stiffen. “It’s going.”

She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.

“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”

“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”

“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.

That’s what makes this all so difficult.

The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.

“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”

Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.

“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.

Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.

Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.

Hey

Busy tonight?

Never for you <3

My place? 8?

It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.

Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.

You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.

It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.

Ok <3

You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.

You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.

You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.

“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.

“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.

“Missed you more.”

He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.

Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.

The illusion shatters.

You pull your lips away from him.

“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.

“Chan, stop.”

He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”

“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”

“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”

“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”

“Okay…”

He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”

You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.

Okay. Okay okay okay.

You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.

“You want your usual?” he asks.

“You still remember my usual?”

“I remember everything about you, love.”

You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.

When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.

“This okay?”

You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.

As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.

I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.

You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.

Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.

I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.

Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.

And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.

“How’s work?”

“It’s been alright.”

“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”

Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”

You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.

“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”

“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”

“Well what have you been watching?”

“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”

“Right. You said you were busy with work.”

He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.

You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.

When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.

“Your hair’s getting long.”

“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”

“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”

He glances at you shyly. “You think?”

“I know. You look adorable.”

“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”

“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.

“Don’t think what?”

Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.

“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”

Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”

Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”

“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”

“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.

“Okay. Whatever then.”

You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.

“Whatever?”

The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.

“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”

“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”

“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”

“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.

“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”

That same twisting in your gut starts up again.

“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”

“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”

It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.

You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.

That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.

You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”

Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.

“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”

You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.

“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.

The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.

Get well soon, girl.

You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.

“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”

“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”

Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.

“You’re sure.”

“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”

He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.

“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”

You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.

[reverseexorcist]

❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?

➲ Lute + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far

➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell

➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face

➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)

➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy

➨ "What is this?"

➨ "A hug?"

➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."

➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)

➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up

➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers

➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)

➨ AND THE MUSCLES!

➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles

➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot

➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)

➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend

➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)

➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost

➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness

➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut

➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while

➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles

➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).

➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it

➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her

➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you

➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you

➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment

➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants

➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks

➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with

➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)

➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.

➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest

➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)

(Spoilers for the finale)

➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack

➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious

➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire

➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm

➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her

➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[artssslut2]

hey I have a freaky request.

Could you write a fanfiction where reader is heavily pregnant and art helps her with her h0rniness. Ty

First time writing smut tell me what you think!!

Art Donaldson x Reader

It was June and you were heavily pregnant with your husband Arts baby. It felt like it was a million degrees outside, you were growing more uncomfortable every single day. Your hormones were an all time high and you would go from being furious at Art for no reason to needing him inside at that second. You and Art had been very sexually active all through your pregnancy however it started slowing down when you reached the eighth month because of how huge you felt,it became harder.

Art was more attracted to you now than ever something about seeing you pregnant knowing he did it to you made him so horny. But he always waited for you to initiate things because he knew you were adjusting to changes every day. Today you were feeling particularly hormonal, you started the morning sobbing because Art had to go to the gym, it was like no part of you could be rational lately. Your meltdown caused Art to be late for training, after he left you were so mad that had no control over your emotions you forgot why you were sad. But now you felt so unbelievably horny, like you’ve never felt before. You needed art, right now. You didn’t want to pull him away from training but it’s not like you could do anything about it considering your size. You tried not to call him, your being crazy you thought. You tried so hard to distract yourself but soon you found yourself in tears calling your husband.

“Art? Baby can you please come home? Like right now?” You asked clearly very upset, you could here Art running from the courts to his car

“Yeah yeah I’ll be there in ten minutes is everything okay?” He asked franticly thinking something bad was happening.

“Yes but please hurry” you cried. Arts coaches were only letting him go because they knew his wife could give birth at any second.

Art raced home and burst through the door

“Y/n!” He called out looking for you, you were on the patio on the lounge bed

“I’m out here!” You called, Art ran outside looking terrified

“What’s wrong are you okay is the baby okay!?” You felt a little guilty seeing him so worried

“Art I’m okay. The baby is okay. It’s just- I just-“ you stuttered wondering how to tell him you called him out of training so he could fuck you. You sat up on the edge of the bed looking up at him

“I really needed you.” You said batting your eye lashes

“For what, what do you need my love?” He asked not understanding what you meant

“I need you” you said reaching under his shirt exposing his V line as you Laid kisses on it. Art finally understood

“Ohh, wait you calls some out of practice for sex?” He questioned, you nodded hoping he wasn’t too mad, he chuckled softly. “You should have said something I was scared” he admitted as you continued to open mouth kiss his v like fidgeting with his waistband. Arts breath hitched giving in to your kisses

“I need you so bad Art. I need your dick inside of me.” You felt him grow under you palm. It had been a while since you and Art had been intimate like this, Art didn’t think he was gonna last too long. You wasted no time, ripping his cock out and shoving it down your throat instantly. Art gasped running his hands through your hair

“Fuck baby you feel so good I missed your mouth on me” he moaned letting his head fall back

“You taste so good Art, I need all of you” you devoured his dick I’m the sloppiest way you ever had. Art bucked his hips gently into your mouth rolling his eyes unwillingly. He came down to his knees to be at your level grabbing your face and kissing you. You moaned into his mouth pulling his hair. You were desperate for him. The make out session was sloppy and hot he cupped the back of your head to stick his younger further into your mouth.

“Lay back love” he instructed you helping you lay back on the lounge bed. Thank god for high fences. Art crawled over you taking your shirt off then ripping his off he kissed your swollen breasts making your shiver,

“Art please I need it” you begged

“Need what use your words baby” he looked at you

“Your mouth. Please. Now.” You moaned, he smirked pulling down your shorts then painties.

“How bad do you need it my love?” He teased

“ART!” You yelled not in the mood for his games. He chuckled then started kissing and sucking your clit, you moaned a little too loudly hoping your neighbors weren’t listening. You were so sensitive it made everything feel so good

“Fuck Art” you pushed his face into your soaking Pussy

“So wet for me darling” he breathed into you making your hips buck,

“Use you fingers baby please I’m so close” you begged breathlessly

“Eager huh?” He said shoving two fingers inside you curling then towards you searching for your favorite spot. He heard you gasp and throw your head back

“There it is” he smirked he kept pumping his fingers into you while sucking your clit you were so close, then he stopped suddenly

“Fuck why’d you stop?!”

“I want to be inside you” he ordered getting rid of his shorts and lining himself up with your entrance. He slid in with ease and you both moaned in sync.

“Fuck y/n your so tight” he groaned. He thrusted into you, your boobs were following his thrusts. Sex at this point in your pregnancy was difficult you had to get creative with positions almost everything was uncomfortable.

“Switch come behind me” you told him pushing him out of you and rolling to your side, he followed quickly so he was to the side of you. He slipped in again reaching around grabbing your hip to move you in a rhythm with him.

“Fuck right there baby please fuck me harder” you shouted sounding animalistic. You once again had no control over yourself. It drove art crazy. You could feel him getting closer with every thrust, you were right on the edge

“Cum for me baby, cum around me” he said in your ear kissing your neck. With a heaving moan you let go around him he followed you soon after.

You stayed in position as you both caught your breath.

“You should call me out of practice for this more” he laughed, you felt so safe in his arms you smiled enjoying the moment. Skin to skin with the man you love most in the world.

“I’ll miss carrying Lily I really will. But I can’t wait to be able to fuck in normal positions” you told him interlocking your fingers with his, Art laughed

“I’ll miss seeing you carry her, it’s so beautiful I can’t even explain it. I can’t believe you grew her inside of you.” Art expressed moving his hard to your belly. Time and time again he was telling you how thankful he was for making him a dad and doing all the heavy lifting. You couldn’t imagine anyone better to be doing this with.

“Well we’re gonna have to give Lily a sibling at some point so don’t worry it won’t be the last time” you winked, already thinking about carrying more of Arts babies. He smiled at you in awe.

“Are you ready to go again?” You looked back at him, he looked kind of surprised but wasn’t arguing he just nodded. The rest of the afternoon you had multiple rounds of slow hot side by side afternoon sex, you couldn’t get enough of your husband. You secretly hoped maybe he would fuck the baby right out of you because you were ready to not be pregnant.

After one final round in the shower you and Art were curled up in your bed watching a movie and enjoying a pizza that he definitely shouldn’t have had but was gonna let it slide for one night because he was too tired to make anything. You cherished every second being in his arms realizing soon it wouldn’t just be the two of you.

[sakasinterlude]

your touch burns like fire, i love it | carlos sainz x fem!reader

a woman, a man, a frisky DM, and a hotel room.

nsfw 18+, no minors pls

a/n: my first piece of writing in a long time, so let me know what you think. its long. 5.1K words so enjoy!

When you decide to send a frisky DM, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back and show your ex, that you too can fuck whoever you want.

You lean against the wall of the elevator and place your head back on the cold steel of the wall. Its not exactly anxiety that you feel, rather than a sense of giddiness, or maybe your just horny.

The loud ding of the lift takes you out of your thoughts as your greeted by the elaborate designed carpet and shining chandelier. You were very familiar with the five-star hotel, at least from the outside, it’s on your daily commute to work but never did you have an opportunity to step inside, until now. This whole day came about after an a rather eventful month or so.

Your long-time boyfriend Brian was a sweet, caring, and thoughtful partner. You met at when you attended your roommate/best friends Christmas office party with her. Instead of being swept up in the boring accounting office chat, you were blushing in the corner at the sweet words of the handsome man in the navy suit. Things transpired quickly between the two of you as a few weeks into the New Year you were already official. There were never any glaring red flags, and you were content with the pace and terms of your relationship, often spending evenings in his swanky high-rise loft apartment. Some may say complacent, but you call it comfortable and reliable, which is more than you could say for any of the past relationships you had been in.

Things started to go left when he claimed to be swamped at work. For a week, okay understandable you thought, but for over a month, and including weekends? Something suspicious surely. With some whispers from your loyal friend and roommate, you learned of the name Laura, a bubbly blonde 21-year-old who was just hired to work at the front desk. On her first day she spilled coffee over some important papers and sweet Brian had been kind enough to show her how to use the photocopier and made googly eyes at her for the rest of the day. “He was definitely smitten!” according to office chat your roommate picked up on. On nights where you would sit in his apartment, alone, your mind couldn’t help but wonder to Laura, knocking on his office door asking Brian if he needed anything before she left for the night. You imagined your boyfriend’s eyes wondering up the secretary’s legs, finding a tight pencil skirt hugging her hips. His cheeks would blush at the scene, the two all alone in this big office, the dark sky outside the window hiding their secret. You tried your best to shake these thoughts out of you head, but it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t contain yourself. One Sunday morning, when Brian wasn’t “working” your eyes caught something on his phone and the opportunity to bring up these lingering feelings came up.

“You got text.” You call out to Brian, who was in the kitchen making the pair of you breakfast. Sweet Brian.

“What does it say?” He replied, he doesn’t even turn his attention from the stove, he must trust you.

“From the Laura, should I reply?” Passwords were shared between the two of you, so replying on behalf of the other was normal.

You see Brian’s head whip around, before he abandons the hot pan, walking quickly to retrieve his phone. “Nope, I got it sweetheart.” He is overcompensating with his smile and places a kiss on your forehead before grabbing his phone and going back to the stove. He must think you miss how red his face got, or the initial wide-eyed look he gave when you said her name.

Long story short, after breakfast a rare fight between the two of you ensued, where you called out his shady behaviour and questioned him about Laura.

“Are you crazy? I would never cheat on you!” he throws his hands in the air. After many mean names and yelling back and forth, it was Brian who suggests a break, claiming the stress from working and the lack of quality time spent was clearly straining the relationship. You don’t even verbally agree, too mad to even speak, just grabbing your bag and coat from the corridor before leaving his apartment.

You don’t return until a few weeks later, when you decide to show up unannounced to make amends. But of course, who was it who held the door open for you when you walk into his building early in the morning? A young blonde, who looked like she had herself a night, sporting the same messy post sex hair and neck hickeys you once did. She shot you a small smile before complimenting your coat, of course Laura is sweet too. You don’t even make it inside, that was all the evidence you needed to know that Brian and this relationship was not worth saving.

You spent the week crying in bed, thinking of the wasted years you spent on this stupid relationship. Your roommate encourages you to get out in the world again, don’t let Brian win. That plus a bottle of wine, led you to DM Carlos Sainz on Instagram. When you decide to send the frisky message, you are more mad than anything else, wanting to get back at Brian and show him you too can fuck whoever you want. With that being said, it helped that that someone was insanely good looking. To say you were shocked to get a reply the next day was an understatement, but after a few messages back and forth, you received a time and hotel room number to meet Carlos that Saturday.

--

You readjust your dress straps as you count the door numbers around you. What exactly does one wear to a one-night stand, especially with a famous person? You settle for a mid-thigh length sun dress and sandals, causal enough you thought. 708 reads the door, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your hand to knock. Sure, you had slept with people other than Brian but never like this. Meeting online, random hotel room, not even a date before where you both play coy to the acts that will take place later that night. The sound of the elevator down the hall brings you back and before you can second guess, your fists meet the door, and you wait.

Carlos Sainz opens the door quickly; you hope he wasn’t watching you standing there through the peephole. He is even better looking in real life than on Instagram, if that’s even possible. Beautiful tan skin, slight beard, strong manly jawline and the most effortless soft looking hair. Its wet, he must have just showered, which explains why he has no shirt on. Oh my god. You meet his eyes as he has caught you staring.

“Hi.” He says it softly, giving a warm smile at the end. You give him the same smile back, not trusting your voice, accepting his outstretched hand inside the hotel room.

-

You stare out the window, looking down below, everything looks so small from here. Carlos left you in the bedroom, claiming he had to take a phone call in the living room. You didn’t even know hotels rooms came with multiple sections and rooms inside. The anticipation is killing you as now as it is definitely horniness you feel rather than anxiety.

You feel a gentle hand meet your waist; you turn to face Carlos.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says sheepishly. “It was a work call.”

“No problem.” You both gaze into each other’s eyes, his hand is still on your waist. “You know,” He takes a step forward, “You’re even prettier in real life.”

You can’t help but blush, turning your head away from his gaze. His fresh cologne scent is all around you now, leaving you flustered.

“I mean it, cariño.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and takes another step closer, your only inches apart now. It’s easy to get lost in his eyes, they are so brown, and so warm, like chocolate or the perfect cup of coffee with cream or lik-

Before you can even comprehend your kissing him, and he’s kissing you. Those big firm hands of his run from your face, down to your shoulder pulling you flush on his chest. Your body feels on fire in the best possible way, his presence is everywhere now. His two hands go from your shoulders then neck, then under your jaw, sitting right under your ears, cradling your face, leaning down to kiss you. His lips are so soft but firm in the way they dominate and take control kissing you.

“On the bed,” A firm slap on your ass jolts you up, “Now.” Carlos turns to watch you waltz towards the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. You crawl into the center of the bed, before turning and facing him with a sweet smile, sitting on the bed. You wonder where all this confidence came from.

Carlos saunters over to you, with an expression you couldn’t really read, his eyes a slightly darker shade of brown. He reaches the foot of the bed and just stares at you, stares. It doesn’t intimidate you, in fact it fires you up, yearning for his touch again. Like he read your mind, he grabs your right ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You let out a squeal, taken aback from his movement. Now on your back, with his hand still on your foot, he crawled up your body, meeting eyes once again.

His lips ghost over yours, waiting, coming closer, then pulling away slightly. He takes his pointer finger from your ankle, and slowly runs it up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its path. Everything on your body is tingling and buzzing at every little movement he makes.

His fingers slide right up your leg, under your dress, stopping at your underwear. Still holding that intense eye contact, Carlos pulls your thong right down. Your jaw is slack at the action, which makes Carlos smirk, knowing he has you now.

Then the assault on your thighs begins, as Carlos leaves kisses and little nips on both outspread legs, ignoring where you want him the most. The feeling makes your back arch and your breathing hitch with anticipation. His teasing continues for some time, as your hands find his locks, enjoying the soft fluffy texture. You almost don’t notice the halt in movement, as Carlos’ eyes bore into your from between your legs. Slowly he moves closer, and closer to your center. Holding that same eye contact, he licks one long stripe up your pussy. You hiss at the sensation. Again, he repeats his movements, keeping the same slow pace, making you itch for more.

“Carlos,” You whine out softly, turning your head into the comforter, not being able to handle the scene below. The wait comes to an end as Carlos places a kiss right on your clit, before sucking the sensitive bud right between his two lips creating sucking sound in the progress.

“Fuck!” You yelp louder than intended but you couldn’t help it. The sounds of his moans, your moans, the sucking, and the licking were combining to send your mind into overdrive, no thoughts at all. Carlos takes your body language positively, starting to become very enthusiastic below, spreading your legs even wider and picking up the pace. The better it feels, the more you moan, the more it encourages Carlos. The cycle is vicious.

Your hands tightly grip the comforter beneath you, needing somewhere to release your distress, somewhere to allow you to keep holding on to this moment.

“Yes, Carlos! Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!” The chant and shortness of breath brings Carlos to create moans of his own, leaving a satisfying mumming vibration to your clit.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He pulls back to swipe the pads of his fingers roughly back and forth on your clit, creating a slew of wetness everywhere. The sounds are downright nasty, as Carlos returns to sucking on your clit.

“Please! Please let me come!” You cry out, the world around you slipping away, as all you can think of is the feeling between your legs. Your cries bring a cocky smirk to his face, loving seeing you squirm, twist, and yelp out in ecstasy.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” Carlos asks, taking two long and thick fingers right into your pussy, slipping in easily. With the first thrust, your shocked at how deep inside you he goes. It’s only two fingers but you feel stuffed. Your mouth is left a gape, eyes rolled back, with the faintest whine escaping your mouth. The feeling is too much to describe so good, but so bad and you didn’t want it to stop.

“Fuck! Yes, hm, I want it so bad, please let me-“ His fingers curling literally leave you speechless as you can’t even continue your desperate pleas. Finally, the feeling hits you so hard your body stiffens in delight. Carlos takes his slender fingers and beings pumping in and out of you. There is no slow build up, just constant penetration as he shows no mercy on you.

You yelp out in pleasure as you cum all over Carlos’ fingers and drip on to the comforter below. He is relentless though, as he continues pumping in and out of you, enjoying watching your toes curl in pleasure.

 Your orgasm runs through your whole body, leaving you tingling. Considering the fact that it had been a while, coupled with the beautiful man whose mouth is still attached to your clit, you were more than pleased. All that was left was the quiet hums as you came down from your high, and the rough hands of Carlos running down the inside of your legs and playing with your fucked out pussy.

“Hey, enough!” You playfully scold, turning to the side, bringing your legs together. The overstimulation is killing you in the best way possible.

“You look good like this, cariño.” He is kneeling in between your legs, staring down at your twisted naked body and the wet crumbled sheets. Fuck, your beautiful he thought. “Now be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for me.” He says with a light tap on your thigh.

You do as he says, slowly but surely, flipping over to a doggy position facing the headboard. A sharp slap to your ass jolts you up, surely leaving a red imprint, but the string leaves an oddly pleasant feeling making you hum in pleasure. Carlos could touch you anywhere tonight and you would probably enjoy it. 

“Again.” You say, confidence once again taking over making you bold enough to call the shots. He complies, taking his large palm and beating it against your ass, this time harder. You gasp in pleasure.

“So, she likes to get spanked, huh?” Carlos asks, rubbing the sore red mark already forming. You hum in agreeance, sticking you ass out, rubbing ever so slightly on his bare thighs. You hadn’t even noticed him discarding his clothes.

“But does she like this?” The question makes you ponder for a second, then you feel it. The weight gives it away, and then the feeling of something long and big dropped between your ass cheeks. You had suspicions that Carlos would be a well-endowed man and you were correct. You turn your head to get a good look at his cock. Neatly trimmed, good length, and definitely girthy, you were in for it.

“Fucking hell Carlos.”

He looks down at you with a smirk, taking his eyes away from his nimble fingers rolling on a condom. He leans down over your shoulder, gets right in your face, and places a kiss on your lips. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. Before you can really get into it, he pulls away.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, just like you asked me to, cariño.” He says sexily, looking right into your eyes, alluding to the direct message that began this all. You just hope you could handle it all.

-

Turns out you could handle it all. Well, just barely technically speaking. Carlos relentlessly pounded into you, causing your body to bounce with force into the mattress. There was a pillow placed just under your hips, slightly elevating your body, giving the perfect angle for Carlos. The arch in your back stayed, but your face? Buried into the white comforter below, surely leaving makeup residue from the force but also the tears that fall one by one from your tightly shut eyes.

Was it rough, was it nasty? Yes, and you fucking loved the feeling, relishing in the violent nature of Carlos’ thrusts. He used his big hands to tightly wrap around your waist, using you as leverage for his thrusts. He loved the sight of his large hands being almost dwarfed by the size of your ass, as he watched his cock enter in and out of you. Together your arousal made for great lube as Carlos moved with ease through your pussy.

The sounds are what really got you though. With doggy style came the infamous sound of skin on skin colliding. It was so rough, and loud, you don’t even feel sympathy for the neighbors next door for the constant sound of the rocking headboard. Lastly, the dirty talk. Carlos exsuded masculinity in every sense including his voice. The deep tone, the vulgar language all enough to make your feet curl.

“Fuck bella! What a pretty pussy.”

“You take me so well, I can feel you squeezing me!”

“Louder baby! I want to hear you beg for it.”

You could feel the beginnings of your orgasm start to creep up on you. The knot in your stomach, the tingling sensation all over, it leaves your jaw slack as you beg the man above you to finish the job.

“Please Carlos! It’s so fucking good.” You draw out in pleasure. “I want to come please!”

“Make yourself come on my cock, princesa.” With that his thrust halted, leaving you shocked for a moment. “Come on, you know what to do.” A light tap on your hips signaled you back against his cock. You repeated the movement, using your hands to guide your ass back onto his waiting cock. The feeling is just as good as before, maybe even better as you could control the pace, opting to go quickly in, then slowing down the exit. This allows you to really feel his length and girth slipping in and out of you sinfully.

“Good fucking girl, just like that. Keep going.” His voice is lighter now, just above a whisper, relishing in the pleasure below him.

You take his words as encouragement, squeezing yourself around his cock, drawing out moans from the both of you. It’s as if you could feel all the veins and lines on his member the way you were so tightly stuffed. His slight curve being the final nail in the metaphorical coffin that sent you over the edge, meeting perfectly with your g-spot.

“Fuccckkk!”

You call out in pleasure, followed by screams you could barely contain, even if you wanted. The orgasm hits you hard, leaving you tingling all over. You fell flat onto the mattress, unable to hold up your own weight anymore. That didn’t stop Carlos from placing his hands by either side of your head, lining himself back up with your entrance and plowing into you at a ridiculous pace. How he found the energy, you had no idea.

Carlos let out his own obscene sounds, closer to grunts, almost an animalistic moan, being encouraged by the way your ass bounced in response. It would surely leave a mark tomorrow. He spilled the last bits of his cum into you, finishing with one big thrust before laying half of his body weight on you.

It was now that you realized the eery quietness of the bedroom, only the sound of the AC blowing and the heavy breathing of the two of you filling the space. Both you and Carlos’ chest rise and fall in unison.

“Fuck.” He says breathlessly after a few moments. He runs his large hands over your face from behind you, brushing your hair out of the way before kissing your temple, cheek, then shoulder resting his head on your spine before removing himself from you. You both hiss at the sensation. Carlos flops onto his back right beside you, hands resting on his stomach with his eyes closed, attempting to catch his breath.

“You are something else, cariño.” He mumbles, turning his head slightly to peak one eye at you with a smirk.

You gave him a grin of satisfaction back before pushing yourself on your knees crawling to the edge of the bed, then kneeling on the floor.

“You have seen anything yet.” You say sultrily, tucking your hair behind you ears staring right at your prize between his legs. This gets Carlos’ attention, as he sits up slightly look at your doe eyes peering back at him.

“Fuck me.” Carlos was in for it.

-

So, there you were, perched on your knees, staring up at the beautiful man, slowly stroking him, up and down with the lightest touches, twisting your wrists. It was a sight for sore eyes, as Carlos leaned back on the bed slightly, eyes fixated back at you. He kept his hands resting on the mattress.

“Do you know how fucking pretty you are, bella?” He asks licking his lips and staring back down at you with a slack jaw.

You smiled in reply, humming around the head of his cock, as you brought it close to your mouth. You begin to tease him with your movements, tapping his tip around your mouth, on your cheek, never bring in inside though. You could tell this was rattling Carlos, as his ankles fidgeted and bounced by your thighs, as he tried to put his focus anywhere else in anticipation.

“C’mon princessa, you’re killing me.” He whines up above you. The pinched brow and wanting brown eyes make Carlos look so fucking sexy, as he is literally begging you to suck his cock.

“How bad do you want it though, hm?” You ask in a mocking tone, trying to supress a giggle from escaping. He tosses his head back in remembrance of those same words he uttered to your earlier. “Karma,” he whispers under his breath.

“You know how bad I want it. You can see how bad I want it.” He crocks out, alluding to the red, erect, hard cock of his being the kitten licked by you. Little drips of precum escape out from his tip, it pulls a groan out of the two of you. Both sets of eyes are locked in on the milky white bead of cum running down the tip. You lick it up before it reaches halfway down. Carlos is staring back at you in awe, with those pleading eyes, begging you to do something, anything really. You decide to put in him out of his misery and let out a thick string of saliva before lowering your mouth on his cock.

“Fuck!” He moans out loud. The sudden movements makes him sit up from his previous lounged position. You pick a steady pace, moving up and down fast, knowing Carlos had been teased enough. You suck up and down, as it doesn’t take much for him to reach the back of your throat. It causes you to slightly gag, but you continue. Dirty noises of wetness, gagging, and slurping make you rub your thighs together below. The tempo caused your hair to flow down towards your face. Carlos used his big hands to wipe your vision clear, holding your hair at the back of your head.

“There you go, just like that baby, fuck!” He draws out. The constant hums, whines, and moans from Carlos do wonders for your confidence as you wonder when you were ever nervous. You can tell he is really enjoying it based on the veins straining his face and arms.

“You taste so fucking good.” You hum, removing him from your mouth, using one hand to massage his balls. You sit back on your heels admiring the beautiful man in front of you. You give him a sinful smile.

Carlos looks spent above you, hair all tussled, sweat slicked all across his body, chest huffing up and down. He takes his cock into his hand rubbing the tip across your swollen lips, tapping it a couple times on your waiting tongue.

“C’mon baby, finish me off.” He grunts out.

And you do just that.

You take a deep breath before taking his whole cock down the back of your throat in one go. An animalistic groan comes from Carlos, but you keep going. You hollow your cheeks around him, sucking with some force up and down. Your force yourself to look up, making eye contact with Carlos as you can tell he is very close now. Removing your lips from his length, you take him into your palm, stroking him up and down.

“Fuck, princesa!” He cussing out loudly, but neither of you really cared.

“I want you to finish on my face.” You say calmly, holding eye with Carlos, above you.

“What?” He whimpers out, face softening. There is no way he heard you correctly.

“You heard me. Cum all over my face, baby.” Your eyes bore into his, becoming wide and pleading for the unimaginable. And who was Carlos to deny you.

He lets out a string of expletives as your wrist work quickly on his shaft, up and down, adding spit for good measure. At this point, Carlos’ whole body is stiff and strained, as he approaches his climax. He forcefully uses one hand to grip the back of your head, the other to take over stroking his cock. You close your eyes and purse your lips together waiting.

“Oh my god-shi-fuckkkk!”

You feel the warm liquid, spilling all along your forehead and down to your lips. It’s a heavy load, as Carlos uses his strong hands to direct your head around, making sure not to miss a spot. He groans out as he works on his masterpiece on your face, squeezing at his cock. You stick your tongue out for effect, tasting his sweet cum. Finally, the act ends, as your eyes are still close and Carlos pants above you.

As much as you want to soak in the moment, the thought comes back in your head, reminding you. You pat on the ground around you feeling for your phone that you slipped in preparation for this moment. Feeling the cold case on your left side, you flip it over, before handing it to Carlos on his lap.

“Take a photo of me.”

There is a moment of silence, as Carlos is actually shocked.

“God, who knew you were such a little slut, huh?” He replies with a chuckle, before taking your phone and pressing the camera icon on the bottom right. You feel him shuffle around for a moment, before the bright flash of your phone shines on your face. Carlos snaps several photos, getting different angles, as you stick your tongue out letting some cum drip down, even peaking one eye open. He tries to move quickly, before placing your phone back on the bed, and jogging to the bathroom. Your still on your knees waiting for him when he come back with a warm towel that he runs along your face and hair.

“Okay, I think I got it all.” He mumbles quickly, pushing some damp baby hairs behind your ear. You finally lock eyes, and you give him a sweet smile before leaning up to kiss him, which he gladly accepts. He cradles your jaw and tongue kisses you so hard you feel dizzy.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely looking at him in the eyes, after pulling away. You rub his hand that rests on his thigh.

This brings a laugh and confused frown to the Spaniards face. “For what? I should be the one thanking you.”

“I’m thanking you for ruining me.” You say seductively. You watch as his eyes go wide, before returning his signature smirk at you.

Carlos almost does not recognize you now, as he would have never accepted this confident, strong, sexy behaviour from the shy woman who walked through his hotel door a few hours ago.

--

“So, what exactly are you gonna do with those photos huh?” The pair of you are now cuddle up in the large king size bed, your leg draped over his middle, naked bodies intertwined. “Saving them in a spank bank for later?” Carlos jokes, he squeezes your shoulder in a playful manner.

In the events after, you both headed for the lavish bathroom, adorned with the largest shower you have ever seen. There are all kinds of buttons and settings, even a touch screen to activate the steam. But you and Carlos stayed busy, going one more round in the shower for good measure. He had you pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around his waist as he pounded into you.

The mood is much lighter now, as you lay together, the TV playing a random sitcom as you make light conversation.

“No, actually.” You start, a light blush starts to creep up your face. “My ex-boyfriend invited me over tonight at 8, his place.” You use this time to glance at clock above the TV, you still have a couple hours to spare.

“He is cooking me dinner, my favourite. He thinks we’re getting back together.” You say with a little chuckle. Carlos looks amused, as he tries to fight back a smirk.

“Little does he know I have a surprise of my own.” You reach for your phone that’s tossed somewhere beside you. Taping the screen your phone comes alive displaying the image taken just moments ago as your new lockscreen. A break of laughter causes Carlos to almost sit up, as his hand flies to his jaw in shock.

“Oh my god.” That’s all he can say really.

It was difficult to pick just one of the sexy pictures Carlos had taken. But you settle for one in which your face is covered in cum, tongue hanging out catching the residue. If you look closely, you can spot your right hand stuck in between your thighs.

“He was a terrible boyfriend, but makes great steak unfortunately.”

[calicoheartz]

Omg could you write about going to Caitlin’s house for the holidays and meeting her family?

A Christmas Kiss ; Caitlin Clark ﹒﹒✧

summary : meeting Caitlin’s parents for the holidays !

wc ; 499

warnings : none! just pure fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : tysm to the person who requested this! had a lot of fun writing it ! I hope you enjoy ◡̈

The crisp winter air filled the quaint town, the snowflakes dancing gracefully outside your girlfriends charming countryside home.

You couldnt shake the nerving excitement bubbling within you, as this just wasnt any christmas; it was your first time spending the holidays with Caitlin and finally meeting her family. As you stepped out of the car, you were greeted by th warm glow of the Christmas lights the adorned the rooftops, and the sound of joyful laughter coming from inside.

You timidly rung the doorbell, your girlfriend rushed out to meet you, with her eyes sparkling with delight. “Y/N! Youre finally here!” she exclaimed, quickly engulfing you in a tight hug. “Ive been counting down the days until i could introduce you to everyone” she stated.

You both then entered the cozy home, where you were then greeted by Cait’s family, who welcomed you with open arms and a genuine sense of love and want. Amidst the festive decorations and the scent of cinnamon and pine filling the air, you quickly felt a sense of belonging that you had never experienced before.

As the evening unraveled, you found yourself captivated by the Clark family traditions and the love that radiated from every corner of the room. As you stole short but sweet glances at Cait, you could feel your heart swelling with the affection for the girl that had brought continuous joy into your life.

As the holiday festivities continued, you and Cait had found moments of quiet intimacy amidst the bustling chaos, stealing kisses under the mistletoe and sharing whispered promises of your love and devotion for eachother.

On christmas morning, as you exchanged gifts by the twinkling tree, you couldnt contain your excitement as the brunette handed you a small wrapped box in glistening paper. With trembling hands, you slowly opened it to reveal a delicate diamond ring, with your initials engraved onto the band; a promise ring. You turned to Cait, with tears in your eyes. This was her telling you that she wants to spend the rest of her life with you, whether it be right in this moment or later, she would promise to make you hers forever.

As the day turned into night and the fire crackled in the fire place, you knew this christmas would hold great significance for you for years to come, cherishing it in your heart. Being surrounded by the girl you loved more than anything and her family gave you a huge sense of gratitude and contentment.

Curled up by the couch, basking together in the warm of eachothers embrace, you heard her whisper a small “i love you”, as she peppered your face with kisses. You couldnt help trying to contain your giggles, simply replying “thank you for making this the best christmas ever”

The brunette smiled, looking down at you, her eyes sparkling with love as she said, “heres to many more holidays together”.

That was when underneath the twinkling lights of the tree, you both shared a deep and meaningful kiss, her hands immediately found their way to your hips and she forced you closer to her, doing anything to keep you as near to her as possible.

A kiss that sealed your love and marked the beginning of a lifetime of joyous holidays together.

omg i think this might be my favorite piece of work!! loveee the way this turned out :) tried to keep it short n sweet but fulll of tooth-rotting fluff ! Tysm for reading <3

[faggot-vampire-dies-epicly]

Love me in spite

Summary: In the dimly lit corridors of a warehouse, Vanessa seeks solace for the haunting memories of her father's legacy—animatronics that once brought joy, now concealed in the shadows. As the newly hired security guard, you find yourself drawn into Vanessa's world, your professional duty transforming into a deeply personal connection. | Words: 3.072K

Warnings: References of child death, murder, trauma, references of manipulation and coercion, references of stabbing, hurt/comfort, some fluff, kissing. Fem!reader.

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long, writing is way harder than I remembered. I still don't know if I did well, so if you have any advice or compliments or even criticism you can comment. I promise to be quicker with the other releases. Title's from Out like a light by The Honeysticks.

Main Masterlist | Vanessa Masterlist | AO3

After months of job hunting and sending resumes, you were starting to lose hope. You had applied to any possible position just to pay the bills, but still, nothing came of it. 

The day you finally contemplated just giving up, the phone rang. Stunned, you had answered to find a woman on the other end offering a job - night guard at a warehouse. You had never wanted to work in a warehouse, let alone as a night guard, but you were desperate, and the thought of having a salary seemed heavenly, even if the pay was narrowing the minimum wage.

You agreed with the woman to meet the next day at the warehouse and hung up.

The next day you showed up at the warehouse and found a police car parked outside. You frowned, confused as why would a police car be in a place like this. The warehouse's door opened, and a police woman stepped out of the building. Her gaze met yours and she smiled, “are you Y/N?”

Your heart fluttered, her voice was soft and sweet. You nodded and she gestured at you to follow her.

“My name's Vanessa. Vanessa Shelly. I was the one who called yesterday,” she explained as she guided you around the building. You arrived at a room where animal looking robots were standing on a makeshift stage.

“The job is simple, the shift starts at midnight and finishes at six. All you have to do is stay awake, keep an eye on these guys,” Vanessa said, pointing at them, “and of course, make sure no one gets in.”

You stared at the curious looking robots, you had never seen anything like them before. “What are these?”

Vanessa grinned, “animatronics. They were used for children's birthday parties back in the 80s.”

You hummed, getting closer to them to see them better. “How come they're in a place like this?”

Vanessa shifted, a little uncomfortable and sighed, “well, I suppose the owner brought them here for a good reason. It's not part of our job to ask those questions.” She shrugged nonchalantly, you stayed silent.

She stared at you for a moment, “come, I'm going to show you your office.”

“How come you are the one hiring me and not the owner?” You asked, entering the office with her. She hummed. It looked like she didn’t like being asked too much questions.

“Well, let’s say I owe the owner a favor,” she spun around, facing you. “This is your office.” 

You looked around the room, it had just a few things. A bunch of monitors with the security cameras footage, a desk and a chair. 

“Cozy,” you murmured and Vanessa chuckled, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel heat crippling from your neck to your face.

She cleared her throat, “Well, that’s basically it. Remember, no sleeping,” she warned. “Hope you have a good first night,” she turned to you, extending her hand and you shook it. She smiled at you one last time and then left the building.

You had stood there, heart beating wildly in your chest. It looked like it was going to be harder than you initially thought.

It had been weeks since that first encounter and you had grown accustomed to her presence. She would sometimes show up to bring you food or coffee, and sometimes even just to check on you.

After the first night with the animatronics, she had called you to check up on you and you had frantically asked why those things moved. She sighed, explaining everything to you. From the disappearances of the kids in 1985, to where the bodies where.

You had been horrified, and she offered to just pay the night, saying you didn’t need to come back again if you didn’t want to. But you stayed, “I need the money after all,” you told her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Why did you want to hire someone instead of leaving them here?” You had asked Vanessa, one of the times she had shown up to bring you food. She sighed, lowering her gaze, “I… I don’t want the kids to be alone. I wanted someone to check on them. I know, it’s stupid.”

You hummed. “I don’t think it’s stupid, I guess it’s kind of sweet?” You said, chuckling. She smiled. 

“Does the owner know?” You asked absentmindedly as you checked the cameras, Foxy was still in his cave, and Bonnie was beginning to move. “Know what?” She asked, her voice cautious. 

“Does he know what’s inside the suits?” 

She shivered, her expression dropping. She looked uncomfortable, frightened. You frowned at her silence, turning to look at her. “What's wrong?” 

She realized she had to tell you everything. And she did.

She told you about her dad, how he had forced her to help him with his crimes, even when she was a child. “He said he was doing bad things to other kids so he wouldn’t do them to me,” she whispered, teary eyed and a knot formed on your throat. 

She told about what happened the last time he tried to harm someone, how a guy named Mike and his little sister, Abby, had saved her after her father had stabbed her. She told you she had spent weeks in the hospital, slipping in and out of a coma. How relieved she felt he wasn’t here to manipulate and harm her anymore, how guilty she felt for that relief. How grateful she was of Mike and Abby, who had understood her, and helped her when she believed no one else could.

And you felt for her. You felt her pain, her relief, her gratefulness. You felt angry, too. At her father for being a horrible person, at the world for leaving her on her own to deal with all this trauma. How did no one ever realize something was wrong?

You hugged her, and Vanessa, sobbing, returned the hug.

After that, you only grew closer.

She would visit more often, smile more, and worry about you. You couldn’t stop noticing the lightness on your chest whenever you thought of her, the way the blood rushed to your cheeks when she touched you absentmindedly as she told you about her day, or how she got closer when she told you something she was excited about. You didn’t know when it started, you just knew it was too late to prevent your feelings from invading your mind and senses.

It didn’t feel like a burden to you, though. You were ecstatic. Every day you were more excited to go to work, you wanted to see her, hear her, be close to her. You didn’t know if she felt the same, but you didn’t expect it either. You knew she still had a lot of things to sort out, and you didn’t want to become one of those things and give her more trouble than what you were worth. You were more than happy being just her friend.

It was a day like any other when Vanessa arrived at the warehouse, unannounced. She opened the door to your office and stood there,keeping a strong grip on the doorknob, looking at you before she had the courage to step in. 

You were in your chair, reading. The animatronics hadn’t been active that night, and you took advantage of that to finally start a book Mike had sent to you as a “welcome gift” as he and Vanessa had put it. You didn’t lift your gaze from the pages, choosing to tease her first. “What can I help you with, officer?” You said, amused.

She swallowed, looking at the floor before looking back at you, a few seconds passed in silence before she gathered the courage to speak. “He's back,” she whispered, her grip on the doorknob becoming stronger. 

Confused, you lowered the book before straightening up on the chair, “who’s back?”

Vanessa sighed, letting go of the doorknob and making her way to your desk, her head low and shoulders slumped. She slowly sat on the edge of the desk without answering your question. Your heart immediately sank.

“Vanessa,” you reached for her hand, “who’s back?”

Vanessa closed her eyes, breathing shakily while squeezing your hand. “My dad. He’s… he’s alive,” she took a sharp breath, “he’s alive and he’s looking for me. For this place.” 

She swallowed. "You need to run away from this place. From me."

You quickly stood up from your seat, grabbing her shoulders in an attempt to ground her. “Vanessa, look at me, okay? Breathe, take a deep breath with me." 

You guided her hand to your chest so she could feel you inhaling and exhaling.

She shook her head, agitated and retired her hand. ”He’ll come. He'll find you. He always does,” she said desperately, tears slowly spilling from her eyes.

She looked so fragile, so small. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her, maybe give her a kiss or two, but you scrapped that thought quickly, aware that this wasn't a good moment to yearn for that kind of contact. “How did you find out?” You asked. She shook her head again, “ it doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, look at me,” you cupped her face with your hands, her green eyes met yours and she relaxed slightly, her breath starting to calm down. "Nothing is gonna happen to me, alright?"

You slowly brushed away the tears with your thumbs and she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. You whispered reassuring words to her, as her grip on your shirt eased. But her calmness didn't last long.

"You don't know that for sure." She answered, opening her eyes, her voice still wobbly. 

Vanessa had a pleading look in her eyes that said “please listen to me, please take my advice.” 

You sighed. “Vanessa…” 

There was no way in hell you were going to escape and leave her behind. You just couldn’t.

Her hands started smoothing out the wrinkles she had left on your shirt with her grip, “I know you need the job, but please. This isn't worth risking your safety.”

You frowned. “So you're just going to deal with him on your own?” 

Vanessa tried looking away, but you stopped her, gently placing your fingers under her chin, turning her face towards you and looking into her eyes. You smiled, trying to comfort her.

"You don't have to confront him alone anymore. You have me and Mike by your side."

Vanessa sighed, looking down, “with you, it's different.” Her voice was barely a reluctant whisper, and you had to lean in to catch it.

Vanessa pressed her face against the space between your neck and your shoulder, finding solace in the comfort of your embrace. She held onto you, desperate for warmth, for understanding. You wanted to give her that.

"Vanessa," you whispered. She raised her head, meeting your gaze. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, her eyes glazed and vacant. Your heart ached at the defeated look she gave you, Vanessa had always seemed so strong to you, it was the first time you had seen her act this timid and vulnerable.

“I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to simply leave you behind to save myself. I'm not like that, and you know it.” She let out a soft whine, muttering something about you “being impossible” as she tried to pull away from your touch, but you didn't let her.

“I care about you, Vanny. I really do,” you said softly. Her eyes widened at the nickname.

“I know,” she said, not looking at you, she couldn’t meet your gaze. “But that doesn't change anything. He's still looking for me. He's going to find this place, and you with it, and I won't be able to stop him.” Her bottom lip quivered and she finally pulled away from your warmth.

“I… I just, I just can't let you get hurt for my sake, I wouldn't forgive myself.” She bit her bottom lip, worried. You wanted to look at the beautiful green eyes you had grown to love and tell her she didn't have to worry about you, but she kept avoiding your gaze, wrapping her arms around herself.

You reached out to her again, but she drew away from your hands. “I can take him on by myself,” she offered, giving you a weak and sad smile. “You shouldn't become a part of this.”

“But I already am!” Your voice sounded desperate, you couldn't believe she would rather confront her father on her own than by your side. “Please, Vanessa, you are important to me–”

“You're important to me, too! That's why I want you safe!” Her sudden outburst left you speechless.

“You– you came into my life like a ray of sunshine, dissipating the shadows obscuring my heart and I just can't stand the thought of him hurting you.” 

Her voice broke, tears threatening to spill from her eyes and down her face again. You were shocked, your heart skipped several times and for a moment you thought you were hallucinating.

“You're just so… perfect,” she sniffed, blushing and looked away. You felt your face heat up as you blushed as well.

Your trembling hands reached out for her again, gently cupping her cheeks and she didn't push you away this time. 

She finally met your gaze, eyes wide and shiny. She focused on every detail of your face. “You fill me with a warmth I thought I would never experience,” she mumbled and you felt like swooning. “I’ve felt cold and alone for so long, but your presence is something that warms my heart and my soul. When I'm with you I feel alive.”

Her words and the look of utter adoration she was giving you felt overwhelming.

“Vanessa–” you began to say before she interrupted you. “I think that I… that I'm in love with you,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

You felt like all the air from your lungs disappeared, you couldn't believe what you were hearing. At your silence, she opened her eyes and noticed your shock. She tried to pull away again, giving you an apologetic look, but you spoke before she could.

“I'm… I like you a lot,” you said, breathless. “I've wanted to tell you how I feel, how I've always felt since the moment I first saw you at this warehouse.”

She shuddered, eyes watering again. You let out an incredulous chuckle, “please don't cry, I don't want our first kiss to taste like tears.”

She chuckled and closed her eyes. You smiled and leaned in, pressing your lips against hers. Her lips were soft and warm, and you felt time slow down as you took all in, from her sweet words to her gentle touch. Vanessa tilted her head to the side, deepening the kiss, pressing her lips to yours harder. Her fingers traveled from your shirt to your hair, pulling softly at your strands while one of yours stayed on her cheek and the other found the small of her back.

You pulled her closer and felt her hum against your mouth, and you knew you had to pull away before you got too lost into her. When you did, you felt her breath against your lips and it took every ounce of strength in you to not kiss her again.

You pressed your foreheads together as you tried to process everything. Her voice took you out of your thoughts, “this is the most cliché thing I've ever done,” she murmured and you laughed.

She pulled away just enough to look you in the eye, a small smile on her lips. “I never thought I would be here kissing you and telling you–” she cut herself off, red as a beet, “you know what.”

You smiled back at her, finding her blush extremely endearing. “I know.”

You let a few seconds pass in silence, “so, are you still going to tell me to run away and leave you? Because if you weren't going to convince me before, you definitely won't convince me now.”

Her smile wavered a little. “I… As much as I want this… I don't know if there's any hope for us.”

You stroked her cheeks tenderly with your fingers, humming softly. “I have hope. I can hope for the both of us until you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, too.”

"I don't think I'll ever see the light at the end of this tunnel," she whispered quietly, "I always thought that I'd leave this world with nothing but my fears and regrets. That I would be buried and forgotten, taking my father's sins to the grave.”

Vanessa looked away, "I've spent the past all my life hiding from the world." There was sadness and resignation in her tone, and you wished you could take all that away. "I don't want you to carry my burdens, too.”

“Maybe I can't do much, but I can always offer a shoulder for you to lean on. I can always offer you my comfort. I'll always be here for you. We can get out of this, Vanny. Together.”

Her green eyes met yours, and she blushed again. This time, she gave you a small smile, her eyes sparkling with something you couldn't quite decipher. 

“Together.”

You nodded and took one of her hands.  raising it to your lips, you pressed a tender kiss on the back.

She stayed with you until your shift was over, and you slowly made your way out of the building between kisses and giggles. 

The morning air was cold and crisp, but her fingers curled around yours made you feel warm. She pressed one last quick, tender kiss on your mouth before getting in her patrol car, promising she would call you later and then finally drove away. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world as you watched her car disappear in the distance.

Of course, you were worried about what would happen once her father found the warehouse. Of what would happen and what would you two have to do to avoid disaster and/or getting hurt. All the possibilities flooding your mind. But when you felt Vanessa embrace you tightly, you also knew that as long as you had her by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

A/N: Reblogs are appreciated.

[spacebarbarianweird]

If I Had A Voice, I Would Scream

The Cloak of Dragomir is finally found, and Astarion can walk in the sunlight. But magic comes with a terrible price.

Based on Mute!Tav Headcanon

Tags: f!Tav, disability, post-game, established relationships, nurturing Astarion

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion basks in the sunlight, arms wide open. It feels like cat fur – delightfully tickly and warm.

The world unfolds in vibrant colors – the blue sky, green valleys, and distant mountains. Daylight reveals a beauty he's long forgotten, absolutely breathtaking.

Astarion's black cloak dances in the wind, showing only his palms and a half of his face.

The Cloak of Dragomir. The artifact that allows vampires to stroll in the sunlight, cross running waters, and invade homes without an invite. Astarion doesn't even have to wrap himself entirely. He pulls up the hood and lets the cloak cascade over most of his body.

Walking in the sunlight becomes a reality. Such a thin, delicate fabric opens him to a world of possibilities.

He still can't see himself in the mirror, but even the tadpole couldn't fix it, so Astarion doesn't hold a grudge.

But-

Astarion glances back at the small campsite. Tav is nowhere to be seen; she sleeps in their tent. The protective spells guarding the Dragomir Cloak have taken a toll on her strength. Astarion wishes she could join him in the sunlight. After enduring years confined to darkness and liminal spaces, Tav deserves to bask in the day's warmth alongside him.

She can't.

A piercing screech rends the air, drawing Astarion's gaze skyward. There, high above, a red dragon soars, its massive form appearing no larger than a bird from this distance.

Astarion and Tav had been hunting for the cloak since they departed from Baldur's Gate. Initially, it was just a flicker of hope, a phantom possibility. There may have been something out there to aid Astarion to walk in the sun. A ring, a spell, a blessing, or maybe even a cure – the possibilities were as vast and unpredictable as the wonders of Faerun.

They found the vampire cloak in the Underdark, protected by a dozen spells and traps. However, the items came with a condition – one had to provide something of equal value to obtain it. A fair exchange, a valuable possession for a valuable possession.

Astarion tried to dissuade Tav. The ghostly guardian's demands needed clarification. What exactly did he want in return? Tav's life, perhaps half of it? A potential imprisonment or transformation into a monstrous being? It could be something intangible, like memories, skills, or sanity…

There is nothing worse than making pacts with supernatural entities, whether hags, devils, or vampires. Trust a Baldurian magistrate.

"We can't just walk away!" Tav pleaded.

He objected and attempted to reason with her, searching for alternative solutions. Yet, deep down, they both knew there was none. Tav gestured towards the radiant day outside, the lure of stepping into the sunlight undeniable.

Astarion reluctantly agreed, but he was supposed to make the sacrifice, not her. However, before Astarion could intervene, Tav reached for the cloak. A valuable lifesaving thing in exchange for something equally vital.

Astarion shouted at her. How could she be so reckless? Why did she never ever listen to him? When his tirade ended, he steeled himself for her response.

Tav remained silent. He would never hear a single word from her.

The price was her ability to talk.

… The dragon disappears in the skies, and Astarion returns to the camp.

Tav can't speak to the people they meet. She can't talk to the quest givers. She can't simply say what she wants and needs and even writing skills are little help since most people in Faerun are illiterate.

Astarion wanted to summon the guardian back and return this cursed thing, but it wouldn't improve anything.

The price was paid.

And as with any curse created by a vampire, it was irreversible.

Astarion sometimes wants to burn this cloak, to rip it apart. He wishes they never learned about its existence.

Sure, it could be worse. Blindness or deafness would be much worse than being just mute. A thousand paladins and clerics give an oath of silence. But they have a choice to break it.

Astarion looks inside the tent. Tav is still asleep, curled in her side of the bedroll. Despite the warm temperature, she is wrapped in blankets. Looking at her, he feels warmth in the undead heart as if a small sun pulsates within his ribcage.

He needs to find a solution. To teach Tav to speak Thieves Cant? It's basically sign language, profane and rude, but very practical. Or lip-reading? If Tav "pronounces" everything clearly, he can recognize the words.

There are also telepathy spells…

He hears a sniff.

It happens so unexpectedly that Astarion first can't realize what he has just heard.

Tav tries to cover her head with the blanket, pretending she is still asleep. And not crying uncontrollably.

"Tav, my sweet, I know you are awake," he enters the tent and removes the cloak, kneeling beside his love.

Another sniff. Louder and more desperate.

Astarion hesitates. It's usually Tav consoling him after nightmares and yet another breakdown. It's her hugging him when it's just too much to bear.

And Astarion has never seen her crying like that. He strokes the blanket, hoping she feels his touch through the thick fabric. "I am here."

He almost adds, "Speak to me," but bites his tongue.

As Tav ceases to conceal her silent tears, trembling and shuddering, Astarion grapples with the profound weight of the silence that envelops them.

He has never realized how talkative and loud she used to be.

As Astarion pulls the blanket away, he unveils Tav curled up in a fetal position, her eyes swollen and face red. The upper part of the blanket is damp, soaked in tears.

Astarion feels a desperate urge to run away, and escape the overwhelming responsibility of being a caregiver. He fears that his presence will only exacerbate her pain, that he'll inflict more harm than healing.

No. He can't do this to her. She needs him.

He sighs, wrapping his hands gently around her waist, guiding her to sit on his lap. Cradling her, Astarion kisses her cheek.

"I miss it," he begins, carefully choosing words. "I miss your voice. You used to talk to me, asking if you could touch or kiss me. I miss the way you spoke about my own self-worth. Your laughter."

Tav presses her face against his chest. He kisses her forehead.

"Once, I asked you what in nine hells you'd found in me. Of course, I knew the answer – who else would be so handsome and smart like me? But what I couldn't understand was what attracted you in the first place, considering I had tried to slice your throat. Remember what you told me? You said you had fallen in love with my voice. You said you just wanted to hear me speaking to you".

"The thing is… it was the same for me. There, on that cursed Nauthiloid, I'd heard you before I saw you. I would never admit it, but I liked how you sounded. Not this drunk voice of my victims, not an order from the master. Just you being so stubborn about survival."

Tav silently cries, and Astarion sees her lips moving. He tries to concentrate on them, figuring out what she is saying, but she trembles, and he can't work anything out.

"I wish we never found this thing. If I knew what it would cost, I would accept fate as a creature of the night. I was selfish. I wanted more than I had, but what I had was enough. Freedom and you, it was enough. I didn't need the sun to feel happy. But now… We have to work it out."

Tav nods and finally pulls away from his shirt, looking into Astarion's eyes. He smiles at her, and she, with hesitation, smiles back.

He keeps talking. He talks like a lovestruck drunkard in a tavern who needs the strongest wine to confess their feelings.

About the night he realized he was in love with her.

About tensed days when he tried to cast this feeling away. How he was afraid to hear the rejection. And how he felt when Tav admitted she felt something, too.

Her protecting him from the Drow bitch. Agreeing on helping with the scars. Saving him from the gravest mistake he could make.

A night in the cemetery when he forgot about any decency, if he even had one, pinning Tav down to the ground. How they returned to the inn, all covered in soil as if they were gravedigging.

Tav is his first. She is his first sentient being to feed on. Her blood is addictive, divine – no one tastes like her. He's had thousands of opportunities to understand this.

She is the first person who he made love to. He had no idea what it was supposed to feel like until that night in the graveyard.

Tav sits up and wraps her hands around his neck.

"I will never leave you, you hear me, Tav?" Astarion affirms, and she nods in acknowledgment. "But we need a way to communicate," he says, gently pulling her away. She clings to him like a kitten, reluctant to be separated.

"Okay then," Astarion decides, reaching for the cloak. With Tav cradled in his arms, he steps into the sunlight, carrying her in a bridal embrace. Together, they ascend to the cliff he stood before, where he lingers, allowing her to share in the picturesque view.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, but Tav finally stops crying, looking at the distant mountains.

Astarion puts her on the ground, and they sit in front of each other.

"I want to be able to lip-reading you. It's easy. I did it before; I must adjust to your pretty mouth."

Tav silently giggles and then leans back with a smile. Now, she looks like her real self – funny, strong, brave. Asatrion melts by simply looking at her.

"I need you to talk to me."

Tav spreads her legs a bit and bites her lower lip. Her head tilts a bit, demonstrating the right side of the neck.

"My pretty darling, if this mouth of yours doesn't do what I asked, I will find another use for it."

She smiles, and her lips form a sentence.

YOU. ARE. A. FREAK. AND. I. LOVE. YOU.

"Well, if you don't stop teasing me, I will make both your lips and tongue work."

I. DON’T. MIND.

He chuckles, studying her face.

"I am surprised you were single when I met you. Lucky me."

NO. ONE. IS. LIKE. YOU.

"Keep going."

DON’T. BE. UPSET. WE. ALL. LOSE. SOMETHING. IT’S. A. PART. OF. LIFE. IT. WIIL. BE. EASIER. FOR. US. WITH. THE. CLOAK.

"Yes. It will. Are you upset?"

I. AM.

"I will teach you Thieves Cant. It's easy. I suggest telepathy spells, but I don't know how to learn them.

NO. I. DON'T. WANT. TO. GET. IN. YOUR. HEAD. YOU. NEED. YOUR. AUTONOMY. I. AM. NOT. BREECHING. IT" "

She keeps talking. Telling different nice things. The more she talks, the more she is her old self. Kind. Funny. Smart. Horny. And by the sunset, he forgets he doesn't hear her voice because they finally properly speak.

When the sun sets, he removes the cloak, letting the moonlight wash his hair and skin.

I.AM. TIRED, Tav pouts. CARRY. ME. BACK.

Astarion obliges and receives a kiss when she is in his hands again.

As the night falls, it gets much colder, and Tav is shivering when they return to the tent. She quickly sneaks under the blanket and makes an inviting gesture.

Astarion lays beside Tav and nuzzles her collarbone. She kisses him goodbye and falls asleep.

He doesn't need to meditate yet, so he lets himself drown in Tav's warmth and steady heartbeat. Astarion presses her tightly and lets his own tears flow.

"I wish it never happened," he whispers in the dark.

--

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl

[altsvu]

Hey lovely, me again! The smut promts with Nick Amaro,

32. Are you jealous & 41 call me that again

Please 🥰

wanted him back

pairing: nick amaro x fem!reader

wc: 898

summary: after stepping away from a sexual relationship with nick, you quickly realize that there were feelings attached from both ends. nick, being the jealous and overprotective type, wants more than what the two of you had.

cw: pining (?), smut (ish), jealousy

a/n: i hope you enjoy as much as i enjoyed writing this!! i kinda think i’m obsessed with a jealous nick amaro, he gives off an assertive personality!!! i also feel like it’s not really smutty as i wanted it to be but the prompts fit well!!i’m sincerely sorry about how long i took to do this 😔

law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

All this time that you’ve worked with Nick, you never thought you’d end up hooking up with him, being in a sexual relationship with him, catching feelings for him, and ending things with him all while working together.

Crazy right?

The kicker of it all? You still had some lingering feelings for him. You couldn’t help it. He made you feel good the first time you hooked up with him, as well as the other times after that. And the relationship was actually going places beyond a sexual aspect but you don’t really know what happened. Maybe it was the stress of work, or maybe it was the stress of outside factors, but the two of you kind of fell off because of it.

Every time the SVU won a case, a celebratory drink at a bar was called for. However, you would always get a bit bold whenever you had some liquor in you. Nothing crazy, just chatting with guys that would be there when the night winded down. And you were a catch! You took care of yourself and were always put together and that made you beautiful, not only to you but to everyone else. But Nick seemed a bit jealous of that, as he tried to stop you every single time. Before the both of you hooked up, you just figured he was doing it for your protection, but after the fact, you realized it was because he wanted you all to himself.

Now, during this phase the two of you are in now, it had caught your attention that Nick is still being his overprotective self, if not worse.

A detective from Bronx SVU had stopped by the precinct to help with the case the squad was working on and he had stopped at your desk to chat. He was obviously into you but you didn’t entertain it, you just acted as you normally would when talking to guys. He stayed for a bit longer than expected and he even asked to walk him out.

When you walked back to your desk, you felt Nick’s eyes follow. He didn’t say anything when you initially sat down, so you continued doing your work and ignored him. You thought that maybe he didn’t have the energy to fix his mouth to say something about you and the detective but you were wrong.

“He was here for an awfully long time.”

“Nick, are you serious? I genuinely thought you would have kept quiet this one time.”

“It’s a genuine thought.”

“Right, to you.”

“You’ve talked to a lot of guys after we stopped, you know.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Oh wow, of course you’d ask me that.”

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

Nick was about to retort something when Liv made her presence known in the bullpen.

“You two having issues?”

“No.” the two of you said collectively.

“Good. I don’t want to hear any more bickering, we have a rapist to catch.”

You smirked at Nick and continued your previous work. He was clearly in his feelings about not getting the last word.

✯✯✯✯

It was much later into the day and you were the only one left. You were actually at your locker getting ready to leave for the night when you heard someone.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to see Nick behind you.

“Nick, what are you doing here? Why did you come back?”

“I left something in my locker.”

Silence filled the locker room.

“I am jealous.”

“What?”

Nick came closer to you. “I’m answering your question. I am jealous. I can’t bear to see you talk to these other guys knowing how I still feel about you after all this time.”

You knew he was jealous but you never thought that there was still lingering feelings. A part of you wanted him back, but you just weren’t sure.

“Nick…”

He stepped even closer to you. “I didn’t want to end things. I still have a lot of feelings for you and I may not have portrayed that in the best way when we ended things.”

The last thing he said was “I’m sorry, Y/N.” There was a bit of comfortable silence after forgiving him. It took you a while to do so though, as you felt like this could have been avoided. Nick’s hands creeped to your waist, pulling you even closer. He kissed you and you kissed him back, and it felt like the best feeling ever. He ended up gripping your ass, something you never expected from him. At least not in the precinct.

The one kiss turned into a full blown makeout session, with hands going to intimate places and soft moans filling the locker room.

“Mi reina sexy.” Nick moaned into your neck. The biggest smile crept up on your face as you loved when Nick gave you nicknames, especially in Spanish. You made him stop in his tracks to look passionately into your eyes.

“Call me that again.” You whispered.

Nick picked you up off the floor, causing you to squeal a little. “Mi reina sexy. That’s exactly what you are to me.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want it to be any other way.”

And with that, another makeout session was initiated, and the two of you spent the rest of the night together, rekindling a love that just so happened to never be lost.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @lapaquerette

[babybluebex]

ok wait but now imagining paul not so subtly trying to get dom to ask out costar!you 😭😭 like imagine dom's just too nervous to ask you out to dinner or something after wrapping up a scene and paul's like 😒 and ASKS FOR DOM 💀 so paul going "hey, dom invited me out for dinner, which of course i'm flattered, but im a bit too old for him.....you should take my place!" and dom in the background looking absolutely mortified. cue confused reader !!

i also have been hallucinating this one small moment where you finished filming a bit later in the day compared to dom so you didn't get to eat yet. you show up to your trailer and see dom and he's like "finally im starving! burgers or pizza?" and you're like "girl what." and he's like "you haven't eaten yet and i wanted to eat with you" and you're just like "WHAT!" (🥹) and he's like "so pizza AND burgers?"

idk i need to go to sleep.

ugh my FAV idea is paul and da'vine watching you two being IDIOTS who don't see that you're falling for each other, and you tell da'vine how much you like dom but you're too nervous to say anything, and dom tells paul that he doesn't think he's good enough for you, and paul and da'vine collude to get yall together bc CLEARLY yall aren't gonna do it on your own

just little things at first, filming a scene outside and paul mumbles to dom "she looks cold... maybe you oughta give her your scarf" and dom does it without hesitation, and you smile at dom and paul is like success, or you and da'vine are cooking (bc ALL THE FOOD IN THE MOVIE WAS REAL AND AT LEAST PARTIALLY COOKED BY DA'VINE) and she "accidentally" overcooks a pan of brownies, and she says "go give them to the boy, he'll eat em" and you do, and dom is all red in the face and adores the gesture, and da'vine is back in the kitchen thinking like those kids are SO dumb

and it escalates in their poking and prodding, and dom tells paul one night "i just— i've never had any luck with girls" and paul is like "jesus christ, kid, see the writing on the wall! for the past six weeks, you've been worshiping this girl and she's been the same, and we wrap in a week, either ask her to dinner or shut up about it!" and he settles down and goes "sorry, that was mean. what i meant was—" but the snap of reality was exactly what dom needed to get off his ass, and he goes and finds you that very moment, and you're sitting chatting with da'vine, and you smile at dom as he enters the room "hey man! what's up?" and you notice his red cheeks and the intense look on his face, and you start to ask what's the matter, but he beats you to it, grabbing your face and kissing you, and you initially push him away "what the hell?" and he just all in one breath says "i think you're really beautiful and you're funny and silly but so caring and passionate, you take care of me even when you don't need to, because why would you need to, i'm a grown man, i can take care of myself, but i love the way you play with my hair and fall asleep on my shoulder during movie night, and we wrap in a week and i don't think i could live with myself if i didn't at least tell you how i feel, and paul says you feel the same way, and i usually believe whatever he says without hesitating, but i sorta worry he's wrong about it, so—" and you kiss him again to keep him quiet and you can't see her behind you, but da'vine is grinning bc fucking finally

and dom is a SWEETHEART when it comes to that second part. you had to film a scene that went on longer than expected, and dom has been wrapped for the day for a while, and the shoes you wore for the scene hurt your feet and you're tired and your body hurts and you just wanna lay down, and you get to your trailer and see the light on inside when you know you left the light off that morning, and you go in, and dom's got it all set up for you, an ocean of blankets on the couch and a pizza on your counter, and he's on the couch, remote in hand, navigating thru netflix, and you're like "the fuck is this?" and he's all puppy eyes at you "i knew you had a hard day, so i wanted to... i don't know, make it easy or something. i got your favorite pizza, and i washed these blankets so they smell nice and they just came out the dryer so they're still warm, and i'm trying to find that show you like but i can't find it, how do you spell 'derry'" and your face crumples up as you start to cry, and dom's face goes WHITE and he shoots up "oh god, i'm sorry, what did i do?" and he comes over and gingerly hugs you, and you cry into his neck and can barely gasp out "n-nothing's wrong, i-i'm just tired!" and he shushes you "maybe a little hangry too?" and you just "mhm" into his skin "that's what i thought, honey, c'mon sit down, i've got you" and that makes you cry harder and he's just sorta "... i'm really bad with girls, do you want me to let go and kick rocks, or..." and you just whimper "i've never had a boyfriend be so nice to me" and dom feels his heart shatter "jesus, really? what sorta guys have you been dating? cuz i— look at me, baby, look into my eyes— i like you. a whole lot. but i care about you too, and i care about the fact that you feel like shit and had a bad day, and because i like you so much and i care about you, i just wanna... just wanna make sure you're ok. ok?" and you sniffle and nod, and he ducks his head to get his face in your lowered eyeline "ok??" and you sorta huff out a laugh "oh, c'mon, you can do better than that. i'm not letting go of you until you give me a real laugh. even if it's fake, pretend it's real" and you roll your eyes and he sorta shakes you "c'mon, you can do it. or do i need to start singing at you? because i can!" and you start to slink away from him, but he pulls you in close and kisses your head "go get into some pjs, i brought one of my shirts for you to wear, it's on your bed with those sweatpants you wear all the time" and by the time you get changed and grab a slice of pizza and get settled on the couch in dom's arms, you realize he's not eating "you're not hungry?" "nah not really..." and it's only after you're full that he reveals the truth to you "i haven't eaten all day. i wanted you to eat all you wanted and not have to worry about me :)"

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 4, Part 1/4 (p. 1358-1522)

Read the previous post here.

After a brief diversion with the Midnight Crew and Felt, it's time to go back to the story proper.

Oh fucking yuck it's that other walkaround flash that uses the story sprites. This one has jank ass combat mechanics in addition to having the same clunky controls as the one in Act 2. Just like that one, this one is also a waste of time. There's no point traversing this and its big ass map.

Wait, is this a Shoop da Whoop reference? God I feel old.

And finally we see Jade's "patron black celebrity": Charles Dutton. Look, I have no clue what Hussie means by any of this. It's just a pattern that I've noticed and nobody else has talked about it before.

Unlike the other kids, Jade always has a somewhat repulsed look on her face whenever she sees her black celebrity. I think she might just be racist, which would explain why she's so xenophobic toward the trolls.

Okay, okay, I'm just joking. Look, Jade is in desperate need of some character traits. At this point, even a negative one would be preferable to nothing at all. Anything to give her modicum of depth.

I wonder what kinds of conversations Vriska or Gamzee would have with Jade. These are things we will never know!

Vriska in particular should've had some meaningful interactions with Jade considering she's the one responsible for her narcolepsy. I'm dumbfounded we never got to see her act more outwardly malicious and cruel toward Jade, or even take a more active role in fucking with her beyond simply putting her to sleep. Vriska isn't exactly known for her subtlety, after all. If she really wanted to put her name on the kids' session and be responsible for all the key events in it, she should've went whole hog.

Perhaps if Hussie had actually planned all this out from the onset, we could've gotten something with more payoff. Recall my earlier post when I said Jade had the makings of a twist villain in these early stages of the story? I'd like to alter and expand upon that with this scenario that I would've implemented in Hussie's place.

Picture this: what if the reason Jade is such a shallow character is due to no fault of her own? What if Vriska had been the one manipulating this human like a meat puppet as her means to infiltrate the kids' session? Pushing the kids to play Sburb in the first place? Her reluctance to give away useful information? All of her intents and motives being masked with overbearing cheerfulness? The fact that she needs "reminders" to keep track of her litany of superficial interests? All Vriska, baby. She has hijacked this kid's brain and is using her as a vehicle to drive the plot forward.

This is back from Act 3, but let's look at how Jade initially reacts to each of her friends and then filter this through Vriska's perspective. John's utter incompetence and Dave's crush on Jade would make them useful idiots in Vriska's scheme. So naturally she reacts positively to both of them.

But she perceives Rose with a single, terse sentence. Rose is the only one who is actively curious about Jade's knowledge of things she shouldn't reasonably know about. This makes her a threat. Vriska would have to put a lot of distance between them in order to keep Rose from uncovering the truth.

And then there are the other trolls. Unbeknownst to them, their efforts to stop Jade would've actually been an internal struggle against one of their own. Vriska would shut them out entirely, not wanting to risk getting them involved with this. All the while, the "real" Jade never gets a chance to express herself because she has been constantly suppressed by an outside agent. Her shallowness would be by design, rather than a consequence of poor writing.

... But I think I'm getting carried away with this tangent. At this point I'm talking about an entirely different comic when this is supposed to be focused on Homestuck. Let's just move on.

So Jade knew about Sburb the whole time, okay. I don't know why it was presented like she didn't at first, but fine whatever. She still continues to be smarmy and coy while John continues to have rocks for brains. Every conversation between these two gives me new insights to the amount of bullshit I'm willing to endure to finish this comic.

I love this line from Dave. Can I get a so true oomfie?

Jade fumbles the SBaHJ reference when someone like Rose could probably recite the entirety of SBaHJ verbatim. In fact, if Rose had fudged up a quote like that, Dave would've shown her no mercy. He holds Jade's hand through it, though, because he's a dumb teenage boy thinking with his dick.

"i got served like a dude on butler island" is a great line. Also, Jade is dismissing Dave getting beat up by Bro as "drama" which, if we're meant to take Dave's domestic situation as legitimate abuse and not a joke, is pretty fucked up.

Dave repeating the whole meteor bit is shut down swiftly because Jade is incapable of keeping up with his patter. Not that I wanted the joke to be repeated anyway, but it's a telling example of how their dynamic works.

Even though Jade and John pesterlogs might be the worst combination out there, Jade and Dave conversations are also pretty damn bad. Dave is normally an entertaining character, but he's squandered in these instances. Jade offers no fun chemistry with him in the same way Rose, or even John sometimes, does. Instead of bouncing his jokes and sarcasm back at him, her obliviousness and naivete causes them to fall flat. She's less a springboard and more of a foam mattress (or smuppet ass, to use a more appropriate metaphor).

And since Dave has a crush on her and wants to appease, he rolls with it and moves along to the next subject without comment. It's like a painfully embarrassing comedy routine where one partner is letting the other flounder on stage.

The trolls act as if certain behaviors like laughing and sarcasm are exclusive to humans, despite us later seeing that such things are normal in their society. It's such a silly bit and I do like it a lot.

Karkat's trolling scheme really is the dumbest plan ever. Also some unfortunate foreshadowing for when he does eventually make shitty diagrams later on.

We needed more moments with the Exiles hanging out and getting to know each other, instead of being pawns to fulfill stupid plot contrivances. It'd make this side-plot infinitely more enjoyable to read.

Note how it's nighttime here when the previous panels with the Exiles were all during the day. This means they must have spent several off-screen hours together by this point. What were they talking about to reach a point where they're all chill with each other? Eh, Hussie deems it unimportant, so we move on!

This is actually a funny moment where Dave allows himself to be a bit of a jerk. I guess even his patience with Jade is wearing thin at this point.

Oh? Rose sounds a little jealous it seems. Dave and Jade get to have a relatively stress-free time playing server and client together. But Rose didn't get to have any of that quality time with Dave because he didn't install his disc until it reached a point where they had only seconds to save her life.

I'm once again thinking about how nice it would've been if Dave had connected to Rose earlier and we could've gotten a lot of banter between them as they navigated the game. Instead we get a lot of toothless slop with Dave and Jade. We were robbed.

Oh shit and Dave snipes right back. He has been getting ignored a lot by both Rose and John, so it's easy to see why he's frustrated. He's mad that Rose isn't putting him as her first priority? God, get a room already.

The last time we saw a conversation between John and Dave was 1,108 pages ago, back in Act 2. John has been ignoring Dave's messages since then. I don't buy the friendship these two supposedly share. If anything, it's extremely one-sided on Dave's end.

This series of pages where PM takes control of the console shows us all the key stuff from the walkaround. This makes it even more unnecessary to actually play it.

This love triangle between the Exiles gets no further attention beyond this moment. Personally I'd have solved it by making all three of them form a polycule, but unfortunately I'm not the one writing this story.

You know, I never gave it much thought before, but why is Grandpa Harley suddenly alive? He doesn't have a dreamself or anything. Nobody revived his corpse. He's just inexplicably wandering the Medium now. If this is ever explained later, I don't remember it.

I know this isn't Mom Lalonde saying this but man... I think it would've had more of an impact if she did say it. Rose never gets to see her mother again, so all she's really left with is this sobering moment of insight that, wherever it is Mom sailed off to, she's doing it for her benefit. That perhaps she's not the cold-hearted, drunken shrew Rose thought she was for her whole life and instead, was just a heavily troubled woman trying her best to be a parent. You never truly know the kind of people your parents are until it's too late, I guess.

None of the kids ever get any closure with their guardians and that's a shame. We never get to view things from their perspectives and they're just glorified NPCs. Bro in particular definitely needed some insight into his inscrutable mind, but Mom also continues to fascinate me. This woman is so full of mystique and contradictions, yet all we ever see of her is fragmented shots from Rose's (heavily biased) point of view.

I wonder what exactly Mom thinks is "best for her child," though. Helping her win the game, surely. She had to have been planning for this moment for most of her life, having known about the countdown in the lab. I wonder if she knew the full extent of what Sburb was going to do, where to go once she got there, and how to help the kids win the game.

Anyway, this panel is definitely a top 10 Rose moment. Or perhaps a top 10 general Homestuck moment, since it has to do with both Rose and Mom. I should be keeping track every time I say this line.

It's very cute how AR contributes to WV's model city. "Begrudgingly" oh come on dude, we all know you're loving this.

These imps must be weak as shit if they're getting bodied by a teenage girl with a pair of blunt knitting needles.

These are some awkward steps transitioning back into the main story, but I remember liking Act 4 the most out of these early Acts. It always stuck out in my mind as what "peak Homestuck" really is, so I can only hope things will get better as we move along. I will say that if we're devoting as much time to Dave and Jade fucking around with the Sburb mechanics as we did with John and Rose, we're in trouble.

Read the next post here.

[readbyred]

TV confessions

you catch their eye and they mention you during one of their confessions;; inspired by @/td-scenarios

Characters: Bowie, Priya, Millie, Emma, Ripper, Damien

Warnings: fresh characters so I’m learning to write them; a tiny spoiler for e02 in Damien’s part; Ripper; not proofread; the reader in Ripper’s part seems to be written as fem but I honestly think it’s 10x better if you read it as anything but lol

-> Bowie

He runs his hand through his face.

“I’m just here to say that owls are definitely not mammals” he looked as if he could hardly believe he had to say the sentence out loud. His teammates never failed to disappoint, apparently.

Though he was about to leave, he sat back down. Only a second of static in between, as the camera was ready to shut off after the initial statement.

“Ou, and have you seen what me and y/n had going on?” He pointed towards the door outside “I mean, they are fine! I’m definitely not making the same mistake as with Caleb, for sure”

He seemed to have remembered something.

“Of course that doesn’t change anything. I’m totally chill about them. A game is a game and I won’t let somebody like y/n distract me, that can get messy real quick. I’ll be unmoved by them. Or their beautiful face or perfect hair or those eyes… ugh, I need to get it together”

As he slumps in his ‘seat’ and lets out a sigh, the camera finally cuts.

-> Priya

She sat down comfortably, as if it was her own place. In a sense, she was pretty familiar with it. In contrast to her body, her face had a stressed, uncertain expression on it.

“I can’t focus because of y/n… As a contestant of course. Mom, dad - I remember the training, I won’t let them distract me. They worry me as a contestant. I don’t want to get them voted off. But if they did end up eliminated I would enjoy it… not”

She adds the last part quietly. As she rubs her forearm, her expression remains bothered.

“I mean, it makes sense I’m on high alert, right?” Her attempt at reassuring her parents didn’t seem too convincing “they are smart, a quick thinker, effective, pretty, motivated, strong, pretty..”

Her voice trailed off. With an equally terrified and embarrassed expression she snapped out of her daze.

“They need to leave the game quick!”

The footage cut to static.

-> Millie

Still scribbling, she didn’t even address the camera as it switched on.

“I wouldn’t have pegged y/n to be the type” she began still looking at her notes “but they really seem not like the other girls/guys/teens”

Finally, she faced the camera fully, talking in her optimistic, confident manner.

“I could hardly take any notes about them” she proudly proclaimed. To be fair, that did set y/n apart from other contestants in Millie’s eyes. Pointing down at her notes she added “ I have some other information - basic things like their favourite colour and music genre. For research”

As guilty as she looked, she still spoke woth her calm demeanour. Perhaps she felt the need to explain her highly-non-scientific demeanour, because she kept talking.

“Besides, you have to admit they are… quite good looking” she looked away from the camera for only a second. Then, matter-of-factly added “On top of being the most sane. Who knows, if they feel the same, we could get to know each other. As soon as this madness is over”

This was the end of the confession and as soon as she spoke the last words, the screen switched to showing the next scene.

->Emma

Sitting down in front of the camera she had an excited grin on her face, as if she couldn’t wait to tell the audience what was on her mind this time.

“You have to admit - y/n is hot. I mean, I thought Caleb was fine, but then I saw them! They are literally so perfect” she blushed, still looking into the camera with the same smile.

“I’m here to win, not to get with someone, but some looking and flirting can’t be that bad. Come on, you have to admit, they are fine”

Tapping her chin she thought about something for a bit.

“Come to think of it, they are super sweet to me too. Maybe they feel the same? I really hope I’m right! I mean, what kind of a dream come true would that be? They are so dreamy…”

As she cups her face and looks off to the distance, the screen is filled with static and the scene ends.

-> Ripper

Any viewer who saw his smug face apprear in the booth must have anticipated to hear a gross or a straight up inaccurate statement from the teen. Not this time.

Instead, still filled with his self assurance, he began speaking.

“We all know who the other hot person here is. Y/n, obviously” the more he thought about his words the more embarrassed he became.

“Not that I care. I’m a guy, I don’t get feelings. And I don’t care about y/n. That’s a beta move and I am not a beta. All I care about is the grind. That’s why, when I win this, y/n will be so into me and will find me attractive and cool… but I won’t care because men don’t care about anything. Especially women. Wait. That’s not what i-“

In a shot at himself only Owen could rival, he got visibly embarrassed. Grumbling he crossed his arms in an defensive manner.

“Just because they’re smoking hot and laugh at my jokes they think they are so great. But I only care about winning. And beating my record. Speaking of which-“

He (or a poor intern, knowing his lack of shame) turned off the camera before, in his naturalistic fashion, he used the booth for its true purpose on TV.

->Damien

With his face a bit too close to the camera he attempts to record himself. After making sure that it’s working, he sits back with an unsure smile.

“Okay, that thing is not cooperating with me today. Or at all” he spoke. So far he managed to look out of place in every Total Drama location, bathroom included.

“But it’s not so bad here. I got to talk with y/n after the last challenge. We all looked pretty beat but they managed alright too. I hope they are okay though. I know I’m not” only half ironically he pointed to his bruised face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here” he addresses the elephant in the room “but if I play things right, maybe I will get somewhere with y/n. That and survive. Plus get the money. Mainly the money”

He leaned on his elbows towards the camera.

“I just like how cool and chill they are, alright to talk to. I don’t hate those other guys, but y/n is a nice change. And they look good”

He shifted, ready to leave, but before getting up he looked into the camera once again.

“Hope I can make the right moves” he gave the audience a half smile. And with that, the video ended.

[hazelnut-u-out]

Something that’s always bothered me is the presentation of the infamous ‘Mr. Jellybean’ scene in Meeseeks and Destroy versus the Planetina plotline in A Rickconvenient Mort.

(TW for grooming)

On first watch, we know Mr. Jellybean is terrible. In my opinion, I always thought they handled that whole plotline rather well. It wasn’t played for laughs or made light of, we see the emotional effect on Morty, they don’t attempt to make the predator sympathetic, and we see Rick step up as ‘Grandpa’ for one of the first times ever— to kill a pedophile, no less. Pretty strong morality alignment on that one.

Suddenly, though, when the predator is no longer an older man, but an older woman, it’s… shitty, sure, but not explicitly wrong.

On my first watch, I thought A Rickconvenient Mort was pretty blatantly a statement piece on grooming. Planetina follows textbook grooming tactics, including lovebombing, isolation, manipulation, and gaslighting. She plays into the classic ‘very mature young man.' We even have Beth as a voice of reason, finally stepping up to the plate to protect her son after what seems to be years of emotional neglect. We watch that very neglect backfire on her concern and push Morty further into this relationship. I initially thought it was a play on grooming the viewer, as well, because of the way it’s told essentially from Morty’s ‘puppy love’/‘first love’ point of view and leaves you feeling just the right amount of unsettled after the ending.

So, you could imagine my surprise when I realized that not everyone (in fact, less people than I had expected) initially clocked Planetina as a sketchy/predatory character.

So, I did what any great journalist would do— rewatched. And rewatched. And rewatched.

I wanted to form a nuanced opinion, but I came out on the other side wondering why we never got a moment with Planetina that clearly shows us she’s a condemnable character in the relationship with Morty and not just because of her methods of activism.

I think we’re actually supposed to agree with Morty in this scene, which was not my first reaction.

The age difference is obviously something they intended to be a main plot point for this storyline, as well. The explicit references to it (Morty's age, in particular) were put there for a reason, from the beginning of the episode all the way to the climax.

In a lot of ways, it makes sense to assume that maybe they didn't want to explicitly state it was wrong (though, they do through Beth, in my opinion).

That would explain why so much of A Rickconvenient Mort is set up using textbook grooming tactics; why we never see Planetina outright condemned, but see Morty emotionally destroyed and confused; why we’re (arguably) supposed to agree with Morty over Beth; why we follow Planetina all the way up to when her facetious face of peace and ambivalence crumbles.

Of course, I’m not trying to assume anything, but it does make me wonder what leads someone to write a character in this way— and even promote her as a character at times (like this post, which is captioned 'Tag your Planetina').

Then again, maybe my initial interpretation was correct and all of this was the result of a conscious choice to write and direct an episode from the point of view of Morty as a victim. I mean, it wouldn’t be too far off to assume something like that as we’ve seen them do it time and time again, just with Rick as the abuser. Think of Mortynight Run, The Vat of Acid Episode, and the new infamous episodes: A Rick in King Mortur’s Mort & Ricktional Mortpoon’s Rickmas Mortcation, just to name a few.

Maybe A Rickconvenient Mort is another one of the episodes intended to show Morty’s perspective and frame his loss of innocence as he views it, not as adults/outsiders view it.

It could be a cool contrast between how Rick protects Morty from these sorts of situations versus how Beth does.

(Disclaimer: I’m NOT saying that there aren’t different types of abuse and different appearances to abusers/predators! I just feel like both of these types of abuse/assault can be explicitly depicted as wrong.)

[dilfhos]

sooo this is gonna be a messy rant on the observations ive made between different writer communities, blog interactions and overall “status”. just silly little things I’ve noticed in my 4+ years being on tumblr btwn 2 diff blogs. and this is about no one specific, a very generalized post so if you find urself offended i honestly dont know what to tell you?? :o do better ig. & if you relate, i feel for you. TLDR @/end.

i dont like interacting/ building connections with people but not for the reasons ppl think. im not stuck up or pretentious or weird or anything. just another anime-enjoyer who loves to write in her free time. nobody special by a longshot!! i enjoy writing, always have since before i was a teen. (wasn’t always ff tho!).

but over the years ive just noticed fandom writing has its gritty sides that no one talks about often and its no mystery why so many prolific/ popular writers deactivated, me included. i had some shitty experiences and have seen friends go bc of it.

firstly, I’ve noticed, once you start interacting and building friendships with people, it’s easier to see the bigger perspective of where ppl stand and the blatant hierarchy of friendships and groups. same applies to that outside. like its literally just me n’ my bsf then my acquaintances bc mfs be weirddd omg its like cults or something. like thats why initially I didn’t interact w/anyone starting on my new blog. that n’ fear of drama following from my last blog ugh. ‘Cept the few i’ve met on my old blog (like my wifey)

not to mention i have bad anxiety. and sometimes im cue-deaf. i dont always pick up what people put down and vice versa and it makes me conscious in a lot of my interactions. so a part of me doesn’t want to interact at all to avoid all awkwardness and possible miscommunications. that’s not to say i don’t notice subtle changes in interactions after one situation / conversation or so forth, that in myself or witnessed between other ppl. (im perceptive, just not that good conversationalist lol. like i really have to try.)

but then…if you don’t interact with people on here, your chances of building an audience or a reader base is slim to none. the likelihood of developing relationships is zip. because you’re already perceived and pegged as just another tumblr writer. pause. to clarify, a writer who doesn’t want any recognition or interactions from mutuals or new friends. or just a lonely writer? a introverted, lonely writer. which leads to little to none interactions (anons, reblogs, moots —exposure.)

so then its like you’re kinda placed btwn a rock n a hard place. and there’s absolutely no problem with that! in fact this is the best part—meeting friends and like-minded people! people that make being online all the more worth it right? thirsting over fictional characters and sharing in each other’s works!

but you have to be in specific circles it seems. but then you can’t imply that you want to be in those circles bc then you’re desperate.

but well, then you cant purposefully want to be independent or be on your own or else you’re a hater, hypocrite or stuck up. not to mention, no one will reblog your stuff lol. no one will interact fr, and you’re friendless essentially. and god forbid if you disagree on something as if opinions don’t exist btw! then you’re being ganged up on. (like omg grow up!)

but then if you reach out you’re seen as trying to wedge in or kiss ass? you interact and follow and you’re ignored or left hanging? (bc im gonna touch your hand when i say this—it never gave fan, your majesty of horny nerds) and this is about ALL the writing communities and fandoms—spicy content, black content and dark content. ALL.

yet no one wants to talk about the pregnant elephant in the room—bias. and favoritism. also people seem to have a hard time being direct with how they’re feeling toward/about someone ( in a good or bad way) which in turn leads to a lot of miscommunication and subliminal attacks. (not to mention hate anons? one of my moots just had her inbox flooded w/them recently, ew.)

you can lead a horse to water AND you can write a 500-word essay on the observations made on tumblr writers as a whole. (a long ass post on the truth on behalf of those feeling this too)

also, slapping a HEY LOOK AT ME! IM A WRITER WHO WANTS INTERACTION AND FRIENDS! on a blog is frankly embarrassing. it shouldn’t even take all that seeing how easy it is for others wanting the same thing.

or doing less to achieve the same result.

not to mention, yall shit on ppl who essentially feel this way altogether bc you peg them as sb who doesn’t “try” or just jealous when their own works are phenomenally written themselves. ive seen it. and ive lived it. never gave jealousy baby.

at the end of the day, we’re all writers— either longterm or hobbyists. (personally, im longterm) self-indulgent or not! and its absolutely amazing when people are being fair in how they spread love and feedback to their writers.

Secondly, its not news that people have to want to reblog your fics so that their followers can reblog, so they can reblog, and their followers can reblog and so forth. but ppl honestly dont care atp bc once they’ve already read it, they owe you nothing. and apparently asking for reblogs is crass and bold. (imma do it anyway) but putting your very all into a story just to turn and see a half-thought out hc soaring 3k in 2hrs and 5k in a day — you have to stfu, open your ass and take it. keep it cute!

you’re getting fucked after all!!

because if you complain—you’re just jealous and lazy and uncreative!! and i hate that to seem like a writer worth a damn, you have to change up your writing style every two weeks to fit in with trending waves.

“no more poetic long fics, nobody’s into that! short, snappy slutty shots are all the rage!” “ppl are only into these specific tropes but you can’t exceed 2k words!” “only add trending characters to these hcs! ppl love them only!” “don’t write too much about a specific character or else ill unfollow you!” its exhausting.

i am well within my right as a literary artist to desire more feedback and interaction on anything i put out. period. and you are too! 🫵

God, im tired of that stupid, ‘you have to enjoy your writing for yourself and not worry about notes’ line. i do love my writing! don’t get me wrong there’s nobody id rather write like if not myself fr. not to mention the inspiration i draw from famous literary authors. however, i would love feedback and the same energy that i see with others in my same caliber.

and when i see others that didn’t even try fr—its a slap in the face to put it bluntly.

i can want silly little comments and notes about something i cherish and put out for that reason and yall aren’t gonna make me feel bad about it. sorry! like yall really be making people feel shitty for wanting the same type of interactions you get! especially when its harmless, bye asf. nb want to recipe to ur peach cobbler b!

the only one giving push back are those appointed popular /top blogs n’ cliques tho. now personally, i honestly dgaf if you have 20 followers or 25k, writing is writing and if its good you should want to support it regardless of following count/interaction right?

unfortunately, and quite unsurprisingly its not the case for the rest of this hellhole lol. there’s always gonna be some “big blog” in any part of tumblr or any social media for that matter.

but when the sole purpose being on a site like tumblr to write is mainly exposure, then it just makes it ten times worse especially if it seems that these blogs are steady at the top of every. single. tag. and listen, i know how initially stupid that sounds but when you’ve picked up on patterns for as long as i have, well iykyk.

so imma be real bc no one else will, half of the posts that yall see with 25k notes have alr been done. just different characters, different words, different dialogue. And 8/10 its been done by sb who only received 100 notes. Thats the evil part. whats more is that it lacks the creativity the one post with 100-300 notes is filled with completely.

POP QUIZ! what post would readers be more inclined to read? — one that says 10k (ohhh that must be popular!) or the one with only 150 (oh i guess nb really liked that one) that no one is even willing to reblog for MORE. and BOOM. now yall wonder why so many great writers LEAVE, its a fucking joke.

so unfortunately its no longer only about or only on readers anymore. its about who you know and who you know is willing to support your fr. who is willing to REBLOG your fics for their friends and followers, so that their friends and followers can reblog. to fit in you actually have to get in these days and it makes it all less enjoyable. makes it a chore and if you aren’t ‘doing it right’ ultimately it makes you feel shitty about your writing. (Please don’t, you are doing amazing. its the platform.)

it makes people not want to jump into writing. it pushes away those who actually want to join writing communities and meet people without feeling like they have to jump thru hoops to thrive or worse—live in other ppls shadows. and then it deters those from speaking up in fear of being shut down by bigger groups. ive seen it happen time and time again.

lastly, and this is the juiciest part! you absolutely cannot say anything about any of this bc you’re complaining and a fisher just looking for attention and not someone who just want things to be fair all over. play the game, right? ( wrong. and if this is your logic, you suck! )

its no longer about making flashy banners and pretty themes. its no longer about how many clever directory links you add or how many games you initiate on your blog or whether or not you’ve reblogged your fic three times already. its about your “friends”, other mutuals, and blogs willing to support you too. not just the audience. audience gonna do what they want regardless. reblog, don’t reblog, whatever. “at least ive read it right?” but everyone knows this. duh! but it’s obvious who doesn’t care as long as they’re on top of that tag! its admirable in a way but it sucks for those wanting to break out and build some kind of readerbase and/or make friends.

TLDR; people need to stop being bias and be fair and open lol. stop picking favorites and share the love all around. you see another person writing your favorite character or trope, give them a fucking chance and reblog, regardless if they’re in your ‘circle’ / radar or not. regardless if you know them or not. hell, let them put you on to a new fandom. bc writing is writing and making new moots and finding new fics seem to be what everyone loves to showcase until its time to actually do it. no wonder people get discouraged to make friends and write, yall treat it like some kind of secret society when its supposed to be fun💀 not a competition. (yall need to dead this clique-y shit. )