#but it's mostly here as a buffer

[blade-that-was-broken]

“Hey Clay?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I know you don’t really like to talk about your older bro-...” 

“Did he call again? Ignore it, he’ll stop. Honestly, he should know better by now,” Clay grumbled, not looking up from his project. Last week, Bruce had called him, out of the blue. It had been a weird phone call, acting as if the last several years didn’t happen. As if Bruce didn’t just pick up and move across the country the moment he could, leaving the rest of them to their mother.

He knew he was holding a ridiculous grudge. It had been years. And Clay might have gotten over it eventually, if Bruce hadn’t replaced them with his perfect family. He barely stayed in contact - even with the brothers who weren’t as mad at him. Branch had been young when Bruce left, barely six years old. Clay wasn’t a whole ton better but at least Branch knew him to an extent. Branch at least knew his favorite color. Clay doubted Branch knew the first thing about Bruce. 

“He… he’s here.” 

Bruce wouldn’t leave his resort and his wife and well, now his kids. It was like he expected everyone to pick up and go visit him just because he lived on an exotic island or whatever. As if Clay didn’t have responsibilities or Floyd wasn’t constantly traveling. As if it was so easy for Grandma to leave the house and fly across the country. Bruce barely called and he never, ever visited - much less out of the blue like this. 

Clay stopped and looked up, his head swiveling around to look back at his best friend. Her curly blonde hair was wrapped up in a messy ponytail, which was fairly normal, but the uncertain and awkward expression on her face was definitely not the norm for her. “What?” he asked, shocked. 

She nodded. “Yeah. There is a guy down in the courtyard. He said he’s your older brother.” 

Clay shook his head. Bruce would never leave his precious wife and resort to visit him, especially when he knew how much Clay was upset with him. Had been for years. Honestly, aside from one phone call a week or two ago, Clay hadn’t really heard from him in years. Clay could have chalked it up to Bruce just knowing that he was angry with him for abandoning him - them - with their mother the first moment he could, but he barely kept in contact with Floyd and Branch as well. And they didn’t hold the hard feelings that Clay did. Not that Clay was much better; he didn’t talk to any of his brothers much either. 

“There is no way,” he protested with a huff, rolling his eyes. She must be mistaken, there was no other option. “He’s never made a trip out here. He would never leave his resort. What is he doing out here?” Viva hesitated, glancing away, which was very strange for her. She was very straightforward and easily excitable. Clay felt his brow furrow a little. “Viva…” 

“He’s not… like how you said.” 

He just sighed and took a deep breath. Bruce definitely had a way with people; he always had. Granted, Clay probably painted him in mostly a crappy light, due to the fact that whenever the subject did come up - which was extremely rare - it was not often positive. Clay had a lot of anger and probably a lot of resentment. It was a work in progress. “Look, Viv. I know he’s easy to believe. He seems soooooo friendly and charming that you want to just swoon or whatever. He’s got that effect on people but…” 

“No.” 

“No?” Clay asked, confused. She said it so strong, so flat, so sure and Clay wasn’t sure what to make of that. 

“Clay… he’s not like that at all. He was actually really quiet and awkward and super uncertain but held him with some kind of…rigidness? At least as much as he could,” Viva looked uncomfortable, like she had seen something she really didn’t like. He wasn’t sure what that was about. At the moment, he was more hung up on the description which did not sound like Bruce at all. 

He scoffed. “Bruce?” 

“He didn’t say that was his name,” Viva continued, still uncertain, glancing towards the window. “But you only have one older brother right?” 

Clay blinked and his whole world came to a standstill. “I….” 

“Clay?”

Older brothers. 

There was no way, though. He hadn’t heard anything from him since their parent’s divorce and when he was practically dragged away almost kicking and screaming. Clay barely remembered it; he tried not to. Everyone had been crying but Branch’s screaming, going along with everyone else's tears kind of drowned everything out. It hadn’t been a pretty memory and Clay avoided thinking about it. Coupling that with his mother’s systematic way of erasing anything that evoked him or their father from their house and their lives, it only took a few years for everyone to stop considering them entirely. 

His eyes widened. There was no way. There was no way it was possible. 

Clay didn’t even think. He bolted out the door, not even bothering to strip off his lab coat. There was no way. It had been at least fifteen years. What were the chances? After fifteen years? There was no way. 

He had to be sure. 

Making his way down to the courtyard, with Viva shouting after him, he scanned the area upon slamming the doors open. It had been a decade and a half. He had no idea what to look for anymore. They had all changed. 

“He’s by the fountain, sitting on the stone wall,” Viva supplied. 

That helped. He made his way over, still looking over the area until he spotted a more middle aged guy with short hair and bandages on his arm. When he looked, Viva nudged him, giving him the sign that who she had talked to was him. Definitely not Bruce. 

He looked over at Clay and recognized him, suddenly nervous. Clay just stared. That was all he could really muster up to do. “Uh… hi, Clay. I know you might not really remember me but…” 

Clay didn’t say a word at first, just launching himself at his big brother, knocking him into the grass behind in a hug. He clearly wasn’t expecting it but he took to the action pretty quickly, wrapping his arms around Clay’s back for support and to keep him from being tossed around. 

“John Dory.” 

Clay couldn’t remember the last time he thought of him, much less said his name out loud. He hated that. His eyes were squeezed shut, just soaking up the firm grasp his oldest - his oldest - brother had on him. He had so much to say and so many questions but only one happened to come out. It had been fifteen years and now John Dory just showed up out of the blue. 

“How did…how did you find me?”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say. There was a lot he wanted to say and do but his mouth had run off with him, questioning so much that he really didn’t actually care the answers to. Because he was here. After fifteen years. 

“Bruce told me.” 

Clay shifted slightly. “B-Bruce?” He supposed it might have been easier to find a resort owner before some crazy older college student. Although Clay felt like he had his name out there more than his other older brother, as he had written papers and had been featured in several journals. Although it might not have been in things John might have looked through. They could be pretty niche. 

“I…” John tensed a little and hesitated. “He found me. The hospital found him, I guess? They found him and called him. I’ve been staying with him for my recovery.” 

Clay’s heart dropped as he pulled away, trying to assess. He scrambled off his brother, stepping back. “Your what?” 

John grimaced. 

Viva nudged his shoulder and spoke quietly. “Clay.” 

Clay’s eyes were drawn downward. Sure, there were bandages on his arm but John’s grip didn’t seem to be very weak so he doubted that would be so debilitating and honestly, his legs seemed fi-… where was his leg? 

“W-Where is your leg?” 

“Sudan… I think?” 

Clay just stared. 

“Right, sorry. Kinda dark humor there,” John muttered, sitting up a little more. “I was… I have been, I guess, in the military for a while. Over ten years I guess, uhm… it’s a long story. But some stuff happened, my arm got kinda burned up but it’ll be okay. Head got banged around a bit but that should be fine too. The biggest thing was my leg which… well, that ended my military career pretttyyyy quick. The hospital found Bruce and yeah, I’ve been staying with him but…. I wanted to see you. Needed to see you.” 

There was a pause. 

“Sorry, that was… that was a lot of words.” 

“When Bruce called…” Clay drifted off in realization. Bruce had called to tell Clay about John. 

“He didn’t want to freak you out.” 

“But I hung up.” 

John nodded. “Bruce didn’t really tell me anything about what happened with you guys or anything but I just… I bought a plane ticket and well, here I am.” 

Here he was. 

“Does Bruce even know you’re here?” Clay asked, uncertainly. With John’s state, it probably meant that Bruce was kind of taking care of him, which meant he was in charge of his welfare and health. John was still on leg crutches and probably couldn’t get around super well. It couldn’t have been that long since it happened. 

John snorted. “I am a grown man.” 

“Missing a leg!” 

“So?” John asked, his nose wrinkling. Clay almost felt like he had been slapped. Floyd and Branch did the same thing. “I knew a guy who lost both and guess what? He lives alone. Does just fine.” 

“He’s probably freaking out.”

“Bruce? Probably.”

“Then why are you here?” 

John tried not to look hurt. He would have done a great job too, if he hadn’t looked away. It was a telltale sign and Clay noticed. He didn’t even realize what he had said and how it came out until it was too late. He cursed himself; he didn’t want John to think he didn’t want him here. “I haven’t seen you in fifteen years, Clay. No matter how much time passes or what happens, I love you.” 

Shit. 

“Clay… he’s so cute,” Viva sniffled. “You never told me-” 

“That I existed?” John guessed, making Clay cringe. “That seems to be an ongoing theme.” 

“JD, I just…” he didn’t really know what to say. He didn’t have any excuse, really. He could blame a lot on his mother but that felt wrong to say to him. There wasn’t any real excuse that would make anyone feel better. 

“It’s alright,” John replied, although Clay could tell there was some struggle. Which made sense. No one wanted to feel forgotten by loved ones. Especially not the ones still alive. “Bruce didn’t tell his kids I existed either. I’m getting over it.” 

He shouldn’t have to get over it, Clay thought. He shouldn’t have had to do any of it. He should have spent the last fifteen years with them. He should have been there for birthdays, for their graduations, for their important moments. He should have been there when Bruce got married. For Floyd’s first show. For Clay’s best college awards. Bruce’s kids should have known their uncle their entire life, not just now and so forth. 

“She’s dead, our mother,” Clay said, blandly. He blamed her a lot, for pretty much everything. Not the divorce itself; that was both of them, but for cutting them off from his brother. For forcing his name to never be spoken. For erasing his memory. It was one thing to keep them away from their father, although Clay didn’t like that either, but to keep them away from their older brother was unforgivable for him. 

“So is dad. Over ten years.”

Ten years. Over even. John lost his family, became an adult and lost his father. No wonder he joined the military. 

“Six.” 

“I tried looking for you,” John promised, like it was something he had to convince Clay of. Like he didn’t want Clay to think that he didn’t try. It wasn’t meant to make Clay feel worse and Clay knew it but it did anyway. Because Clay hadn’t. He hadn’t looked. He hadn’t even considered it. “Before joining the military. After too, a little, I suppose. I’m no detective I guess.” 

Clay just stared at him. Did he think…?

“I know…” John frowned again. “I know you’re mad at Bruce but I can’t… I… Clay, I want to be…to have… to be in some part of your life and I just…” 

“I’m not mad at you.” 

Clay hated the almost hopeful look that John stared at him with. It was a expression that screamed he wasn’t expecting this reaction. “You… aren’t?”  

“No. Of course not. Our parents were petty and bitter and it is all their fault. JD, you never… you didn’t abandon anyone. Dad took you away and mom decided to try and erase that part of her life. Have you blamed yourself this whole time? For years?” 

“No, no, I just… I don’t want you to think I stayed away or something.” 

“I believe you,” Clay promised. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

[nachtsoklein]

once again thinkin bout the thing of kurt being very chill about flings & one-night-stands but like. in regards to himself only being comfortable with thought of such with people that he. knows beyond a name. this is slightly diminished in cases of the other also not being human-passing (or passing but not being of earth), because the want for familiarity is very much tied to a fear of being seen as just an exotic novelty to add as a conversation piece with other non-mutants. he's long grown past accepting being seen as a sideshow attraction. really if given the choice he far prefers a friendship with benefits (even if the "benefit" happens only once) as opposed to a flat-out one-night-stand where he's unlikely to hear from the other ever again, & would prefer to start as friends even when the attraction is clearly mutual from the start. he needs to know to his bones he's desired beyond the "freak" factor.

[twicethetrouble]

Day 1 of Daily Writing Family Web

“Do you feel like there's something missing?”

Leo looked up from his phone and towards his twin. Donnie was awake again, lightly scratching his fingers against the scarf just to feel the fabric. His focus solely on said scarf to the point where Leo almost questioned whether he was speaking to him or not.

“Like legitimately or are you just asking because you're high on glitter slime,” Leo asked, head tilted to get a better glance at Donnie.

Donnie shot him a glare.

“I'm not high, I’m drowsy,” he muttered. “They're different.”

“Not by much,” Leo said with a shrug. “Either would be enough to get you to ask weird, hypothetical questions like this, apparently.”

“Forget I asked,” he grumbled, looking away once again.

“Wait, were you serious?”

“Not anymore,” Donnie muttered.

“But why?” Leo asked, shifting on the spare mattress so he was properly facing his twin.

“Just drop it.”

“Yeah, no can do,” Leo said. “Now what's up?”

Donnie stayed silent out of spite.

“Come on, Dee. Share with the class,” Leo goaded. Donnie ignored him further. “You know I’ll just pester you for the rest of the day until you doooo...”

“You're my least favorite brother,” Donnie stated.

“I'm sure,” Leo said dismissively. “So?”

“Defeated sigh,” Donnie muttered to himself before continuing. “I don't...properly know. It just feels like there's something missing sometimes.”

“Like now?”

“Possibly,” Donnie said.

“What's missing?”

“I don't know,” Donnie stressed. “Something. Like we used to have something, something important, but we don't anymore. And we haven't had it in so long we don't even remember what we're missing.”

“But you can tell something used to be there, just enough to miss it,” Leo finished for him.

“Yes,” Donnie said, his shoulders losing some of the tenseness he had gained during the conversation. There was silence between the two for a long moment. It was nice, until Leo broke it.

“Nope, doesn't sound familiar,” he said with a shrug.

Donnie glared at him again, this time smacking him in the back of the head with his foot.

“Rude!”

“I'm disowning you,” Donnie informed him. “April's my new twin now. You're just an annoying dumdum turtle I happen to live with.”

“That's uncalled for. And definitely not how twins work,” Leo tried to argue.

“It does now, ex-twin,” Donnie muttered.

“You must be feeling better if you're coherent enough to disown me,” Leo joked. Donnie shrugged halfheartedly, but otherwise ignored him.

[formosusiniquis]

mi media naranja (and other things that need to ripen) - ch 1

ao3 | Chapter Two

Nancy needs a translator.

She's hot on the tail of one of the biggest scoops of her career -- behind the truth about Hawkins lab, the Starcourt Fire, and what was really wrong with Hawkins, Indiana -- a chance to expose several government officials of corruption and mob ties. If her research so far is correct she might even be solving a couple prominent cold cases. It was the kind of high she was ready to ride all the way to a Pulitzer. If she weren’t stalling right at the finish. She��d made it this far with her conversational Russian, truly the only thing Hawkins has ever given her, talking to sources with ties to the Russian mob.

She had all her pieces but none of the proof to tie them together without her primary witness, a recent immigrant and current housekeeper to someone in a prominent mafia family. Nancy knows she’s the linchpin to the whole story, if only spoke something other than French and Italian. Nancy, fluent in Spanish, assumed with a romance language under her belt she'd be fine taking on anything. Until she spends two hours going round in circles because, turns out, similar isn't enough to get across the nuance needed for investigative journalism no matter how you try to force it.

She’s left every attempted interview frustrated, with next to nothing that she can actually use. Biting her tongue to keep from raising her voice at a woman who started speaking to her in broken English rather than deal with Nancy asking her to repeat herself again ‘lenta.’

She can feel the exclusive slipping through her fingers. She’s going to get scooped by the Wall Street Journal, one of their smug Republican leaning reporters writing about what a disgrace it is that we can’t trust our ADAs anymore, how this one bad egg made the rest of the system look bad.

Like the government wasn’t suffering from a bone deep corruption that you couldn’t cut out.

She’s been dealing with these assholes for years, the least they could do is let her make a career out of it. The whole thing makes her head hurt, she needs to replace her night guard, but more than she needs to stop grinding her teeth she needs this story with her editor.

So Nancy needs a translator, and she needs one yesterday.

Her coworker Jan, who does their travel section, has a source. 

Her coworker Jan also has the worst case of pregnancy brain Nancy has ever encountered. "She's great, really, an absolute whiz at languages, super friendly. Absent minded professor type. Rowen, no that's not right. Anyway, she's really sweet; set me up at all my hotels last time I was in Italy. Wren? She's at Columbia, language department first door on the left when you get to the faculty offices."

Nancy needs a translator, so she goes. There can't be that many women with bird names in the language department.

The first door on the left is shut tight when Nancy arrives, a light is on and a figure silhouetted in the glass pane but inaccessible thanks to Midwestern courtesy. Nancy snoops before she knocks. Every other door in the hall has a nameplate, professionally engraved with a first and last name. 

Her possible translator does not, in its place beside her door is a handwritten Robin H. In a bold all caps hand, sharp angles and hard downstrokes. There's something else to be learned here, it's an itch at the back of her brain, but Nancy needs a translator more than she needs another mystery. So she knocks.

"Office hours ended half an hour ago, if you're failing today you'll still be failing tomorrow."

That itch is still there, agonizing as when she had chicken pox in the third grade.

Normally Nancy is more professional when it comes to her sources. She'll call, make an appointment, let them know she's coming unless surprise is important. Normally she even goes in knowing their names.

"I'm with the Times, my coworker Jan sent me. If I could just have a moment of your time."

There's a clatter, a thud, the familiar sound of a stack of paper that was too close to the edge of a desk gracefully sliding onto the floor. The equally familiar sound of, "Shit, fuck, those better have page numbers" said by someone who knows those pages on the floor don't and how long it will take to try to figure their order.

The door swings open, and in the doorway for the first time in the decade since Nancy left Hawkins, stands Robin Buckley. Hair a little shorter, blazer a little more expensive, and forearms just as confusingly distracting when revealed by cuffed sleeves; but her translator is undeniably Robin.

"Shit."

[steaksex]

I love posting polls its awesome. Anyways the guilts havw been affecting me, as have the oc brain worms. I should note that yes this is my space i will do whatever the fuck i want forever. HOWEVER i want to know the vibes.

[corpusboard]

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

summary: just some small baking hcs because i couldn't help but think about these guys while doing some baking myself

pairings: all students x gn! reader (can be read as either romantic or platonic, except for ortho)

warnings: just fluff, there is no concrete trope here, just random brain worms; reader is not specified to be mc/yuu

a/n: peer reviewed by @daisystwistedgarden who woke up to me spamming our dms with these ♡

twisted wonderland masterlist

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle would be the most attentive student ever, taking notes on the exact ratio and the time you spent mixing everything together. Please don’t give him measurements like “what feels right”, he wants to know the exact amount down to the gram. One day, he wants to bake something for you by himself, but for now he’s content with sharing what you made together over a cup of tea.

Normally, the delicious smell of pastries and cakes comes wafting out of Heartslabyul’s kitchen with Trey at the centre of it, so the first time he comes to your dorm to see you baking, he’s pleasantly surprised. Obviously, he’s liked you before but now he looks forward to swapping recipes and spending afternoons side by side in the kitchen.

Cater would be posting all over magicam how cute you are and would fill his stories with candids of you kneading dough, taking stuff out of the oven, etc. He’d try to hide how flustered he gets if you tell him you made something savoury because you remembered he’s not fond of sweets.

The Adeuce combo would loiter around your kitchen, snacking half your dough without contributing any help whatsoever (Deuce tries, Ace never had any intention to from the start). One thing’s for sure: if Ace or Deuce ever have to bake an apology tart for an unbirthday party again, they already know who they’re recruiting. It’s also a great reason to stop by your dorm more often than they already do.

He would never admit it, if you made something for him, Ace would feel his heart beat a little faster. Instead he’d poke your cheek and make a nonchalant comment about how you must be so in love with him that you couldn’t stop thinking about him but the way his delivery stutters a little and the fact he can’t quite meet your eyes gives him away. Don’t mention if his ears turn red either (or tease him about it~).

Contrary to his roommate, Deuce is adorably honest about his appreciation for your hard work. You made this for him? Just because? There are a few seconds where his brain buffers while deciding what to do, would hugging you be too forward? But wouldn’t bowing be too formal? It’s honestly very cute to watch how his face flushes a colour that’s a nice contrast to the blue mark next to his eye as he stammers out his gratitude, especially if you’re not (yet) dating or haven’t been for long. 

SAVANACLAW

Leona was probably lazing around your dorm already and you woke him up from a nap with the noise of kitchen equipment and the different scents filling the air. He’d slink over to watch you work, offering unhelpful comments while leaning his entire weight on you. Because of his upbringing his palette is obnoxiously refined but he’s the one helping himself to more of what you just took out of the oven, so he’s not sly.

Ruggie can smell that you’re baking something good before even entering your dorm. Sure, most beastmen have a keen sense of smell but when it comes to food, nobody zeroes in quite as fast as the hyena. He’ll join you in the kitchen under the guise of learning a new recipe from you- and he is! It’s just that he’s also sneaking a treat or two off your baking tray.

Jack would help carry and stir stuff for you but he’d mostly keep to the background and let you do your thing, afraid to accidentally ruin the pastries or what you’re making, his nose and tail do twitch at the pleasant scent though. Since he’s an athlete, Jack makes sure to watch his diet but he’d never refuse to try what you made.

OCTAVINELLE

As the head of Mostro Lounge, Azul is always on the lookout for new items to add to the menu, so he takes quite the interest in your recipes. With a few tweaks here and there… For him to enjoy them in private though, he’ll study the recipe for different reasons. Of course he will try everything you make at least once, but the housewarden is still very conscious of his appearance, so he’ll enjoy your baking in measured amounts.

Jade, much like his childhood friend, is very intrigued by what you’re making but not out of business reasons. The eel is much more interested in how your recipes compare to his native ones and he’s already thinking of new things to try the next time around. As with everything, Jade loves to tease and fluster you, so of course he has to show you how to perfectly roll out the dough by caging you between himself and the counter. 

Perhaps you should think twice about letting Floyd into your kitchen. If he asks to let him help you, chances are he’s in a good mood, which is positive for his enthusiasm but detrimental to keeping your dorm clean. Sure, the eel is quite competent when it comes to preparing food but by the time your tray is in the oven, you, him and the floor are covered in flour.

SCARABIA

The first time you offered something homemade to Kalim, he had to refuse with a begging side glance to Jamil. Afterwards, he reasoned with Jamil that if he just joined you in baking, he could be sure of everything that went into the treats and so his vice housewarden relented. Against what people might think, Kalim is not actually half bad at baking, you just have to walk him through all the steps slowly. He might never have baked something himself before but he makes up for it with enthusiasm and the will to learn, plus he makes the whole thing super fun from beginning to end.

The first time Jamil sees you baking, it’s late in the evening and he just dragged himself over to your dorm for some much needed rest. But when he sees you working around the oven, there’s a split second where all the alarm bells in his head go off to thwart impending doom, until he remembers that you probably know what you’re doing and he relaxes. Old habits and all that. After that day, he’ll join you in the kitchen from time to time, if his schedule allows it. There’s no doubt about his capabilities, so Jamil’s always welcome to join you but he also appreciates that you don’t expect him to, which makes this a nice way to wind down for him. Also gets easily flustered if you make something for him and him only.

POMEFIORE

Vil would also compliment your hard work. Sure, he might offer some constructive criticism (if he knows it won’t hurt your feelings) so you can improve even further the next time around, but he’s also not hesitating to point out everything that deserves praise. He might click his tongue if you get cream on your face but will gently wipe it away and dust the flour off your clothes with a fond smile.

Rook is just as excited and eccentric as always, raving about the beauty of baking and how lovely you are for creating something so delicious. It doesn’t matter if you’re making the simplest cookies known to man, to him it might as well be a three tier cake.

Epel would be so happy if you made something with the apples his family sent him, but he appreciates it either way. He’s also really talented when it comes to decorating -probably because of his years spent carving apples- and he feels really manly when you ask him to stir something, knead the dough or carry ingredients.

IGNIHYDE

Idia is probably running through every anime and dating sim with a baking arc he’s ever watched/ played and his hair tinges pink as you invite him over. You’re at the intimacy level already to unlock this super domestic route? He really wants to save state irl, so he can keep coming back to this, both in case he messes up and to relive this moment.

Ortho would be a sweetheart, setting timers and looking up recipes and techniques if you’re stuck. He compliments your work and laments lightheartedly that he can’t smell or taste anything, saying he’ll pester Idia into inventing olfactory and gustatory receptors, so he can get the full experience next time.

DIASOMNIA

Congrats, you now have a very curious fae prince on your hands. Not only is he studying your recipes and ingredients with great interest, Malleus is just as fascinated by baking utensils running on electricity. Do yourself a favour and invite him for tea afterwards where you can serve your treats, he will be puddy in your hands.

Watch your bowls carefully when Lilia is around while you’re baking. There is a good chance the fae will try adding a few ingredients of his own and it will not end well for anyone involved. He’ll playfully pout about you rejecting his help and deflecting from the topic but a second later he’s laughing about how cute you are for wanting to make something for him by yourself.

Silver would fall asleep when surrounded by the good smells, the warmth of the oven preheating, your lovely voice and the kitchen sounds. He can’t help it, it’s such a relaxing environment and it puts him at ease and therefore also to sleep. But, ever the charming knight, he would help you clean up afterwards and very genuinely compliment your hard work with a soft smile.

Sebek will yap up a storm on how ‘your human recipes can’t hold a candle to briar valley’s supreme cuisine’ but he’s oddly docile once he actually taste tests. If you tease him about his earlier statements, he will flush red, trying to save face but also not wanting to lie about liking your baking.

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Twisted Wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[jq37]

Your sister who you love so much (even though you’ve never shown it) asks you to be her sister again, her true sister, in deed not just in name. And yes, of course that’s what you want. That’s what you’ve always wanted and now that she’s shattered your defenses and destroyed the ones who would pit you against each other and died right before your eyes, how could you refuse? How could your answer be anything but yes?

So you go home with her, not the ruins of your perfectly posh prison, but a new home which provides love and care and bunk beds and it’s so so nice. Ridiculously nice. Sickeningly nice. And a small, sick part of you almost misses your old home (if you can even call it a home) because yes, it was cruel and awful and you hated every second of it but you knew where you fit. You knew what your role was. You don’t fit in here. Everyone accepts you because they’re all so nice, but they don’t know how to volley back your sharp words or find a hidden, “I love you” within an offhanded insult. 

And then your sister leaves to save the world again because that’s who she is. She’s the kind of person who goes out to save the world with her friends when she’s needed and you’re not. You’re not, not, not. Not on any count. You don’t save things, you destroy them. And friends? You have to allow yourself to be vulnerable for friends so of course that’s out. Your sister is 16 and she’s out saving the world for the third time and you, fully grown at 18, are a wanted criminal who hasn’t even properly graduated from high school. You can’t stop thinking about it and, without your sister and her friends occupying the house as a buffer, the ones who are left try to get you to talk about it so you make a rash decision, as you are wont to do. You leave, like a thief in the night. You can make your own way. You can. You’ll prove it.

You find a shitty apartment and pay for it with the ill-gotten spoils from one of your many exploits. You could probably pawn some treasure for more luxurious  accommodations–there is that chest of rubies just lying around–but you don’t. That’s not what you deserve. And what if your sister needs help later? You don’t have access to your parental funds anymore which means she doesn’t either. You know she won’t ask anyone for help–you wouldn’t. But someone has to look after her. You’re an abjuration wizard. You protect people. You protect her. No, that’s a lie. But you want to make it not a lie. You want to start now.

If you’re saving the rubies then you need a source of income. You narrow down your least villainous talents to try and find a suitable job and hit on teacher. You’re good at magic, right? So how hard can teaching it be? Hopefully not as hard as securing the job, which proves trickier than expected because, oh right, you’re a wanted criminal who hasn’t graduated high school. But you dip into your villainous talents once more and tell yourself it’s for a good cause. You secure the job. You’re doing it. You’re making your own way. 

You want to text your sister to see if she’s doing alright but you don’t want to intrude and you don’t want to answer any questions about what you’ve been doing because then either you’ll have to lie or explain that you’ve left again, right after you promised you’d be there. Both options make your heart ache, especially since it’s her birthday. So you wait until the house is empty (mostly empty–you’re never really alone in a haunted house) and enter the room you and your sister shared for too brief a time. You paint her walls with carefully rendered runes, filled with all your abjuration magic and stamped with your arcane mark. It’s a possessive bit of spellcraft. A selfish claiming of a climactic kill. You mean to make a different kind of claim. You are claiming your sister, as she asked you to months ago. You are telling the world that she will not be fucked with while you live. Your rooms were so close before. You could hear her. You knew every night she went to bed in the grips of a panic attack with no one to console her. She won’t have to feel unsafe in her own room again. You can make sure of that at least. 

The sun rises one morning and you know that means your sister is alive and well and coming home. You teleport to Falinel to make sure she returns to her favorite dessert. It’s worth the spell slot and the chance of being recognized. The tower where they kept you is long destroyed and you know that this time, if you were ever captured or even killed, rescue wouldn’t be measured in a matter of months. It would be days. Hours even if your clever sister and her powerful divination magic put things together faster. The thought fills you with more emotion than you know what to do with. You leave a note. “I love you,” you think. “Enjoy the nemesis ward,” you write. 

Practicing magic, as it turns out, is a very different skill than teaching magic. The children are loud and obnoxious and you don’t quite realize that maybe your expectations are too high between the hothouse you grew up in and your sister being the world’s greatest diviner, fullstop. You know you can always go back to the manor, but that somehow makes it easier to stick it out. You’ve always been taught that pressure provides the best results but there’s something about the security of a safety net that makes everything a bit more bearable. And so what if you have to take a second job involving a light criminal element. You’re only smuggling–that’s barely even a real crime.

Your sister who has saved the world thrice now, texts you and she wants help. She is looking to you for help. And you do your best to oblige. You offer your knowledge, you offer your rubies, you invite her over again and again. She sends you a text and deletes it. You’re not the diviner in the family but you drain your spell slots scrying for information you already know. Information that you'll hear from her own lips in just a few hours. “I love you.”

She finally visits and you’re not unaware of the state of your apartment. You know you’ve been too exhausted for an Unseen Servant or even a round of Prestidigitations but you know that your sister has seen your mind and there’s nothing messier about you than that. She teases you and you tease her back. She’s the only one who understands how to deliver a complement with a backhand so you can receive it without your skin crawling. The only one who knows how much tartness you need with your sweetness. 

Later, she visits again. She sits in your filthy apartment and you watch trash TV and it’s the highlight of your week. Your month even. That should feel pathetic but, somehow it doesn’t. You want to tell her. She deserves to hear it from time to time without having to filter out the layers of prickliness that you add as second nature, a layer of armor as ever present as your abjurer’s ward. You may not be able to handle naked sentiment but she can. You’ve seen her with her friends. How affectionate they are. You’ve always been taught that loose lips sink ships but you have experience with ship sinking and this prospect fills you with much less dread. You tell her and it’s awkward and fumbling but you manage. Maybe loving people isn’t so different from loving cats.

You have a new job which is perfect because the school year is almost over and, blackmail or no, you aren’t sure how many times you’ll be able to get away with casting Sleep on your class to give yourself a break. Honestly, you should have applied for jobs in Leviathan from the start. Why would pirates care about your sketchy history and lack of credentials? You could teleport yourself to Leviathan every day but that would be a waste of a spell slot when the door to the Compass Points is right there in the manor (and if your sister happens to be there too then hey, happy coincidence). While you’re there, you might as well do your laundry. And stay for dinner from time to time. And spend time with your sister in your her room where your runes stand sentinel and your old bunk lays untouched. You don’t think you’re staring but later, as you go to grab a snack from the kitchen your sister throws you a casual, over the shoulder glance. 

“You can just move back in, if you want.”

And would it really be that easy? Just like that? After a year of trying to make a point or a plan or a better version of yourself or whatever? Just like that? 

You remember a year ago. You and your sister and words that will be burned into your mind forever. 

“Despite the fact that you have not earned it, I do love you.”

Just like that. 

You say yes. You stay. 

[newkatzkafe2023]

I am curious about how our beloved monkeys react to the reader wearing a peach dress

Wink Wink 😉

Ohhhhhhhhh💋💋💋 We're looking sweet😋😏 and they're looking hungry 🤤🍽

(Lmk Wukong) He was shocked and blushing as you showed him the dress you got from the mall. You had asked him what he thought of the dress as you did a little spin to show him, you looked like the tastiest peach he ever seen. Looking nice and Juicy and plump, he was actively got up and showered you with Compliments as he licked his lips at you.

(NR Wukong) He was drooling excessively, with a nosebleed as he looked at your plump body, you looked so beautiful, so adorable and so sexy. You bought the dress on clearance and tried it on after finding that it fits, then later you showed him the dress and well his brain had crashed and he was blushing and drooling. He was smiling at you and decided to compliment and seduce you as he leads you to the bedroom to get a better look at it😉

(MKR Wukong) The second he had saw you were that dress, is the second he looked like he had a brain bleed. His face was red, he was clutching his chest and trying to control his breathing. You were so hot and adorable like seriously, what business do you have being that hot and adorable looking?!?!? and you looked like a ripe tasty peach just waiting to be plucked of a tree branch. That dress better be for his eyes only because Wukong is gonna get a bite out of you one way or another🤤

(HIB Wukong) HIPS!🥵 THIGHS!🥵 HIPS!🥵THIGHS!🥵 HIPS!🥵 THIGHS!🥵 this man is buffering like he's was acting up the second you showed him wearing that dress. He was mostly looking at those juicy plump birthing hip of your and the dress you wore put way to much Emphasis on them, especially if you were feeling brave wiggled them. As you did that and model the dress he was trying to estimate how much cubs he's gonna knock you up with while wearing that dress🥵🥵😳😳

(Netflix Wukong) He Actively grabbed his jewels in despair. Everything on his person was throbbing and red as his face was. God, he felt he was a teenage boy again looking at that pink peach dress on your already dangerously sexy body. God damned it, why do you keep doing this to him, do you like torturing him or something using that rocking thick and hot body against him, teasing him knowing that he can reach you, but he does love the dress, and he would love it even more with it on the floor. It was a matter of time before he lost his non Existent control and the next thing you knew your legs were held up with his face in between them and he had you moaning and screaming while he got his fill of your peach juice.🤤���

(BMW Wukong).....................😵😵😵😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 You did it you had finally killed him, so many had tried and he mentally died at the claws of his ridiculously hot wife. The second Wukong saw you in that dress he to use all of his Discipline not to go into an early mating season state of mind and jump your bones. You dare to wear that dress like a big tasty peach as you would dangle yourself infront of him knowing that he was starving. Ohhhhhhhhhh he was not gonna take this lying down with his boner. He's gonna wine and dine you into his bed and never let you go.

(Destined one)......you are but a tall, thick bottle of peach juice, and he is so very thirsty🥵, of course, the Destined one at first felt ashamed for his x-rated thoughts and feelings. Then here you are innocently asking what he thinks of the dress with your own light blush, especially with how revealing the dress was. He had never felt this way before and he's probably gonna beat his own ass later for this, but right now he wants you bad, he wants to take you, squeeze you, taste you and rock the little world you live on.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 🍑

[salemlinnet]

hey everyone!

a few news items right before we start up chapter 5. firstly i just wanna say thanks to everyone who follows my comics, it's been a pleasure as always. i've been keeping a longer buffer on patreon than usual, mostly for my mental health. publishing takes a lot of energy and i've really felt it necessary to just focus on production for a few weeks. at this point, patrons have seen most of chapter 5, there's only one more scene and about a page to be drawn. the quiet has been nice, i've caught up on a lot of house keeping, though i'm obviously very excited to present it! and on house keeping,

DOMESTICATED IS NOW LIVE AT IT'S NEW HOME!

to not go into the boring details (the old domain got trapped between to hosting sites in the middle of a buyout), it's not hosted at cod-domesticated.com (rip custom url you will be missed) it will instead be hosted at salemlinnet.com/domesticated (now you live at my house like you're my son why didn't i think of this sooner). if you find any errors in the pages i am so sorry i just formatted so many buttons TTuTT it would be super helpful to me if folks could report any specific buttons that don't work if it's convenient, it's been beta tested by the discord (thank you guys so much) but i'm just a dunce and i can't be trusted so there might be errors.

the simons are all wearing a little beret this chapter is my third point of business, i am losing it over the ghost beret. oh and the devil may care is up to chapter 18, will be chapter 19 within a few days. page 21 is out for patrons.

finally, to the people lurking for thistle and spade. i've wanted to say for some time, i'm really grateful that you've stuck around while i've been too sick to work on a bigger project. if you were here to see me start production for and then pull ghost #1, the story behind it is that i sort of suddenly learned i wouldn't always be as sick as i was, that i didn't have to rush anything, and that i could produce thistle and spade in chronological order with a bit of patience. that left me with no smaller project to draw and release in the mean time, except, see, i really like this game, call of duty. i was still on bed rest when i started domesticated, and with a ton of physical therapy i've been able to draw longer and longer hours. it's trained me up to be a better comic artist than i ever was before. it's grown into a sturdier project at the same pace. it's so unlike thistle and spade, whose chapters were written and edited over years and planned to every gesture and expression. i'm just winging it with domesticated, i'm usually rewriting massive swaths of dialogue as i sketch the scenes out, i just keep throwing out ideas until it's something i'm excited to draw and present as my imaginary "what happened outside of the games" day dream land. it's reminded me what i love so much about story telling and comics. it's made me excited to see thistle and spade go live again down the road. but first i have to rebuild its website too TTuTT

all right i'll see everyone pretty soon! thanks for hanging around as usual!

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  i hate buffering

SUMMARY : “hey hi, could you do an imagine with Dean who is dyslexic or dyscalcic? Please I would really care <3” — anon

PAIRING :  dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff

WORD COUNT : 826

A/N : title from a the devil wears prada song. ah, an imagine. I actually don’t know what the hell I'm doing, but I loved this as I started reading a Stephen King book in the semi-darkness and I kept reading words wrong and thinking about how difficult it would be to be dyslexic.

Dean heard your adorable giggle before he heard your footsteps coming closer to his bedroom. 

This new, long-term dating thing made his heart skip a few beats.

You were cute and compassionate, mostly, but there was so much to you than just that. The longer he spent getting to know you, the more you seemed to unexpectedly expose parts of yourself, like heated kernels turning to popcorn. 

He stopped cleaning the stuff in his bedside table’s drawer to watch you with a dimpled smile. He sat on the bed and you finally showed him what you were shyly hiding behind your back.

He blinked a few times, willing his brain to focus on the yellow sticky note and your pretty handwriting. He glanced up at you, your expectant gaze, the flush on your cheeks. Embarrassment flared up his neck and he panicked.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he blurted out. You tilted your head at him as your brows twitched and your smile faded into confusion. “I'm tired, I can’t focus,” he lied, rubbing his eyes.

You thought it odd, but shrugged it off anyway.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you smiled, “it says: show me your tits, cowboy.” Dean laughed softly and you slapped the sticky note on the wall above his bed as you climbed into his lap. He instantly grabbed your waist and slowly slid his hands down to your ass. “But if you’re tired, we can just sleep… after you finish cleaning this up.” You dipped down to kiss his forehead, but he searched for your lips for a real kiss that made you warm all over. 

One of his hands slowly moved up your back until he cupped the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Before you knew it, he had you laying down on his bed and impatiently moved between your legs to kiss you harder.

You laughed against his lips and moved up the bed, never breaking the kiss until your head was properly pressed into his soft pillow. His warm, calloused hand sneaked up into your tank top, slowly lifting it, distracting you by licking into your mouth.  

His soft tongue played with yours and he gently squeezed your breast, causing your breath to hitch. He pulled away with a smirk that made you feel hotter. He removed his hand from your warm flesh to kiss down your neck and your hands moved into his soft hair. His soft lips pressed and brushed teasingly against your skin, and his careful teeth grazed your sensitive flesh. He gently pulled down the strap of your top and followed the thin strip before moving to kiss your cleavage instead.

“Fuck,” you whispered impatiently, but let him do things his way despite the fire you felt on your skin from his touch and his kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered warmly against your skin. You smiled and hummed softly, watching him with his greedy eyes while he grabbed a handful of your ass and slipped his hand underneath your shorts. 

“You're not wearing underwear.” His voice was low and deep, and all you could do was bite down on your lips while he licked his own and just watched you hungrily. Your heart was in a frenzy and your mind was clouded with incoherent thoughts of him. Naked.

“I pretty much told you I came here for sex, but cuddling is an option if you’re tired.” He slid his hand out from under your shorts, moved back up to peck your lips before smiling down at you cheekily. You pressed your lips together shyly and lowered your hands to his broad shoulders. 

“Can I tell you something?” He asked suddenly, pressing his lower body against yours and gently leaned on his side with his arm beside you. You tried to ignore the sensation of his body being all over your and lovingly cupped his cheek.

“You can tell me anything.” 

He inhaled and looked away from you slightly. “I’m dyslexic. I couldn’t really read your note.”

You almost blurted out really? without thinking, but this is Dean. He wouldn’t say that if he wasn’t completely sure about it. Your smile softened and he chewed on his lip for a few seconds before trying to cover it up with a seductive lick of his lips and a quick glance at yours as an escape for his confession. 

“That must make all this hunting research very difficult for you,” you considered thoughtfully. He kissed you softly to interrupt your thoughts. 

“It does…” he mumbled against your mouth and rocked his hips gently against your core. Your breath got caught in your chest.

“You’re still very good at it,” you reassured him breathlessly and grabbed at his shirt to tug it up and off his flushed body. He hummed appreciatively against your lips. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmured, teasingly nipping at his lip when he started pulling away to remove his shirt.

“Thanks for being you.” 

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[samkerrworshipper]

initiation pt.3 | barca femeni x reader

warnings: smut 18+ minors dni.

pt.1 -> pt.2

it’s not valentines here anymore but for yall who are/are not celebrating i hope this makes ur day a little bit cheekier ;)

I promise u the freaky stuff is coming but this is the buffer for that lol

Instead of waking up to a warm embrace of Keira and Lucy, you wake up to an empty bed. It takes you a few seconds to take in your surroundings, your body is tangled up in sheets and a duvet. The room is mostly dark besides some light coming in from under the door. You allow yourself to take a deep breath, breathing in the cool air around you and slowly waking yourself up. The ache between your legs is the first thing you feel, it wraps your thighs up like a warm hug and it reignites the previous desire in you as the memories of what you’d experienced only a few hours ago flash through your mind.

If it wasn’t for the bed you were in and the faint sound of moans through the walls of the house you’d probably be a little bit more concerned about your surroundings, but instead the environment you are in only brightens your mood.

It’s definitely not an unpleasant way to wake up, you absorb your surroundings and listen with a light head and fuzzy thoughts as you stretch out across the extremely comfortable mattress, bathing in the absolute serenity that you can feel across your whole body and soul. You’ve been thinking about this night since Lucy had told you about it days ago, stressing about all the different possibilities and things that could happen.

You never, not even in your craziest and wildest dream could have ever concocted some kind of idea that would come anything close to what you’d experienced in the last few hours. From the sounds of it, something was still happening and you’d be damned if you missed out on any of it, so even though it pained you to leave the bed that probably had a thread count higher than the amount of money in your bank account, it was with the hopes that you would get to experience something that was far better than any bed.

You are still as naked as ever, your whole body completely bare as you pushed yourself off the mattress and with unsteady legs onto the floor boards. The combination of the post-orgasm bliss and few hours of rest maKe you feel better than ever and without any struggle you made it to the closed door of the bedroom.

Your skin pricked up, little dots forming against your skin as your exposed body began to feel the effects of being in a room with a fan and aircon on.

You could have taken a sheet or blanket with you as coverage, but you figured that by the noises being produced your companions would be in a similar state of undress and even if they weren’t it wasn’t like they would see anything they already hadn’t.

The hallway you stepped into was empty. Although there were little thready moans coming out from some of the rooms beside your one. Because Lucy had practically carried you into the room you struggled to remember what way to go but you managed to trail your way back to the main room by following the noise that was being emitted.

The sight this time was completely different from beforehand and it took your eyes a little bit to adjust.

There were some people missing, although your brain was still too fogged up to really take account of people, just what was happening around you.

The first sight that catches your eyes is Keira, who has so many hands on her that it’s hard to tell who is who.

Ingrid is the first person you spot, mainly because she’s the least entwined in Keira’s body. She’s got the same strap on that she wore earlier when she was pounding into you, except this time it's being brutally thrusted into Keira’s throat. It’s a pretty sight, Keira’s drool and slobber all over her chin as she repeatedly gags on the strap. Frido is the second person you spot, mainly because her and Ingrid are pretty much next to eachother, the two bestfriends connected by their lips, although it’s not what captures your attention, instead you’re eyes are glued to the suctioned dildo that Frido is riding, her knees bent against the floor, pushing up and down. Your eyes don’t focus on her long, instead searching around Keira. It’s harder to figure out who is behind her, but it’s a process of elimination and spotting different heads of hair and hands. Keira is on all fours with Aitana’s mouth slurping at her from below and Marta’s fingers soundly fucking her from behind. Keira looks so blissed out, like she’s floating on a cloud of dopamine so strong that it could rival drugs.

On the couch is Alexia and Mapi, the two best friends lazily making out whilst their bodies grind down against each other in perfect synchronisation.

Before this, you were fairly sure that scissoring was a social construct, but watching Mapi and Alexia’s hips jolt out again and again is making you reconsider your beliefs.

Lucy, Ona, Jenni and Caro are on the bed, and it’s a sight that you can’t even begin to comprehend.

Ona is laid down on her back on the bed, Jenni grinding down on top of her face whilst Lucy and Caro are down the other end of Ona. At first, you think the two older players are taking both of Ona’s holes, but after a few seconds, and an angle change when Ona’s hips buck, your jaw drops in realisation that the Norwegian and English player are both fucking in and out of the same hole.

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head, you can feel the arousal re building inside you as you watch Caro and Lucy brutally fuck into Ona, pretty much using her to get themselves off. Ona’s body is boneless and unmoving beside her hips which every few thrusts cant up to buck upwards.

You can’t take your eyes off of the sight, it might be rude to stare but in your opinion it would be rude not to admire the complete erotic beauty that is unfolding before your eyes.

“Hola chica.”

The words are directed at you, forcing your eyes away from Ona and to Mapi, whose head has craned backwards to look at you from her spot on top of Alexia’s lap.

There is a thin sheen of sweat across her forrid, her eyes are full of lust and she looks positively feral.

You smile at her, too terrified that if you open up your mouth you’ll say something wrong or let out one of the moans that have built up in your gut from watching Ona.

Your eyes drifted back to Keira on the floor, all three of her holes being used, quite literally having her brains fucked out.

It’s not something that you’ve ever directly desired, but right now it’s all that’s in your mind, you aren’t quite sure if you could handle it, you’ve never taken more then two fingers in your asshole and too be fucked in both fo your other holes at the same time seems like over kill, but watching Keira suddenly makes you so intrigued and suddenly attracted to what she’s enduring.

You don’t know where to go or look, but Mapi ushers you over with her hand and your brain can’t ignore her, so you put one foot in front of the other until you are standing directly in front of the two women.

Alexia smiles at you, her hands are resting on Mapi’s hips, gently helping her to grind against Ale, there isn’t much fervour or energy to it, from what you can tell, it can’t possibly be stimulating enough to put either of them anywhere near the edge, your either wrong or they just don’t mind. There are red splotches up and down Alexia’s chest, little dots and tiny teeth marks that are splattered out across Alexia’s chest and neck.

Mapi has some darker, purple marks across her neck, less than Alexia but far more noticeable.

“How’d you sleep bebita? You feeling rested and up for some more fun?”

It’s bewildering to you how level headed Mapi is considering the situation she’s in. You think about how you would behave if you were in her situation and you are fairly certain it wouldn’t be anywhere near as composed.

“Hoping I didn’t miss out on much.”

Mapi smirks, her lips parting and letting out a breathy moan as Alexia pulls her hips down harder, trying to get her own friction against her clit.

“I’m sure we can find some ways for you to make up for lost time. Come sit down next to Ale, I’m sure she’ll be able to wake you up.”

You drop your body down beside Alexia on the couch, unsure what to do but much happier with the closer proximity.

“Look at Kei, look at how good she’s being, would you like to be used like that?”

Alexia leans down to whisper the words into your ear, her voice low and drawn out.

You bite your lip, happy to let your eyes stray back to Keira, Ingrid is no longer in her mouth and Marta is no longer in her ass, instead Keira is now bouncing up and down on Ingrid’s strap, Ingrid jack-hammering into her with absolutely no mercy.

Keira looks pretty fucked out, you’ve got a better view of her face and body now that it’s not so occupied with so many hands and people.

Her mouth is permanently open, deep moans leaving her mouth every time Ingrid thrusts up into her, the other thing that catches your eye is the way that Keira’s tits bounce up and down with every single movement, her nipples are risen and hard and her right breast has a big red mark on the side of it.

Keira’s eyes are glazed over, but there’s still some form of cheekiness behind them, just from the sight of her you can tell that she’s having the most fun that you’ve seen her have in months, that she’s so incredibly at peace with Ingrid all over her.

One of Alexia’s hands fall from Mapi’s hip, down to you knee first, gently coaxing your legs apart before trailing her hand up.

You look down for a few seconds, before Alexia’s mouth is back pressed against your ears.

“Look at Oni, she’s been such a brat tonight, look how’s she’s getting fucked, look at all those bruises on her, you don’t want that do you? Don’t want to be filled up but on the edge all night, right? Little Oni thought it would be smart co cum without permission so now she has to deal with Lucia and Caro stretching her out with no relief. You don’t want that do you? You’ll be our good girl, sí?”

Your eyes lift up to Ona, her body being brutally used by Lucy, Jenni and Caro. Her pussy is still being stretched by the two women, and to think that she’s going through it without any finish is eye opening to you and also terrifying.

“Yes, Ale.”

Alexia smirks against your earlobe, her lips opening to suck down on the skin whilst her hand trailed up and down the bottom of your stomach.

“Such a good girl, so perfect, so well behaved.”

Alexia’s hand creeps down further, her lips tugging on your earlobe whilst she cups your mound, her ring and middle finger dipping between your folds for half a second to collect some of the wetness.

Alexia pulls it up to your face and after a particularly harsh nip to your ear that has your lips falling open, and Alexia’s fingers in your mouth.

Without any prompting, you suck your taste off of her, the salty and slightly sweet flavour welcome on your tongue.

“Suck.”

Alexia’s fingers are too big for your mouth, something you begin to realise as she slowly attempts to push her fingers in deeper.

By the time they’re at the back of your mouth you’re struggling to breathe, having to switch to your nasal passage to take in oxygen. By the time they’ve hit the back of your throat you are trying your hardest not to gag and to suck on them. Alexia’s lips are a distraction, her mouth has worked its way down from your earlobe and to the sensitive spot on your neck. Your moans are muffled by Alexia’s fingers, two thirds of her fingers as deep in your mouth as they can get.

It’s when your jaw relaxes for the two first knuckles that she decides it's the perfect time to force the final third in.

You gag almost immediately, your throat tightening and struggling to accommodate the extra length that your throat didn’t have the room for.

You tried to slacken your jaw, tried to relax your throat, it was obvious though that Alexia’s fingers were too long.

You are so desperate to please her, to prove that you are her good girl, that you will do anything that she wants or asks you to do, so you don’t end up with a fate similar to Ona’s, so even though you are gagging and struggling to breathe properly you push through, sucking on Alexia’s fingers just as she’d ordered.

Your own drool is dripping down your jaw, you’re certain of it, it’s something that you can’t afford to care or think about though, your focus is solely on Alexia’s fingers and mouth.

Just as you’ve begun to feel slightly lightheaded from the shallow bits of oxygen that you are managing to intake Alexia’s fingers are pulled from your mouth, and whilst you are occupied with gasping for air and Alexia’s fingers shoot right down to inbetween your legs.

Your body lurches at the sudden contact, hips chasing Alexia’s hand desperately.

Alexia allows the movement, her fingers trace the outside of your lips, never even coming close to touching you where you need her most.

“Look at Mapi, look at how desperate she is, using me for her own pleasure. All because of you bebita, all because of how worked up you got her earlier, she’s such a filthy whore for you, isn’t that right Maria?”

Mapi’s head rocks forward to look at you, a big smirk on her face, telling you that what Alexia is saying is true, that some part of whatever she’s experiencing is due to you.

“Are you going to make her come before you hand her off or are you going to make her wait.”

Mapi’s eyes stay locked to your own, even though it’s clear the question isn’t meant for you.

Alexia removes her mouth from your neck, just to stare at you in deliberation out of her peripherals.

“What do you think? Should we reward our good girl, or make her wait? You’d look so pretty coming all over my fingers bebita, but maybe I should make you wait for Lucia? Just so I can watch you get fucked out by her.”

You aren’t sure what you want, with Alexia putting both offers out on the table and making them both sound good, you’re too focused on Alexia’s hand dipping in and out of your pussy to truly comprehend what’s being said.

When Alexia’s fingertips finally make contact with your clit everything you’d begun to process is completely erased from your brain, every single one of your brain cells is completely captured by the sensation of Alexia’s slicked fingers finally touching you where you’ve been so desperately needing her.

“How does she feel bebita, she touching you where you need it?”

You nod your head at Mapi, more than happy to deal with a little bit of teasing if it means that you continue getting what you want.

When Alexia’s fingers migrate further down, her roughened palm moving down with her fingers to grind down against your clit as her fingers tease your hole you moan, louder than you think you ever have.

Alexia’s palm is wonderful, but her fingers slowly slipping into your hole, inch by inch similar to how they did your mouth, is indescribable.

You’re still tight and oversensitive from your previous orgasms, so every single move, every twitch of Alexia’s hand sends shocks through you.

Her pace is similar to the pace that Mapi has set on top of her, fast but thorough, Mapi’s hips gyrating against down against Alexia haphazardly, but with obvious amounts of detail, she’s searching for the friction against her clit, and she knows where she has to angle herself to find it.

Alexia pushes her palm down against your clit, forcing your legs as wide as she can from her spot beside you, her head cocked to the side so she has a good angle of both Mapi and you.

“Watch Oni bebita, that’ll be you soon enough, once she’s had the brat fucked out of her it’ll be your turn. That’s what happens to little sluts who think they know better, who think that they will get away with being disobedient. You’re a good girl though, and if you keep acting like one I’m sure Jenni and Lucia will be happy to reward you, in fact, if you keep being good for me I’m sure that we can sort out any kind of reward you’d like, how does that sound?”

Your eyes lift up to Ona, it’s a struggle to keep them open with Alexia’s constant pace in and out of you but for the sake of obeying Alexia, you do as she’s asked and watch Ona.

Jenni’s no longer balanced on top of her face, now she’s lying to the side of Ona, her hands pinching down on her nipples so hard that there are tears in Ona’s eyes over the torture she’s being subjected to.

Lucy and Caro are no longer pounding into Ona, instead they’ve both pulled out and Lucy’s strap has been thrown to the side, she’s currently being fucked by Caro, right in front of Ona’s eyes, just another form of teasing thrown her way you assume.

“Tell me what you want as a reward, bebita, anything you want you can have.”

It feels like Alexia is offering you the whole world, and yet you can’t even begin to formulate what it is that you want, because there are infinite possibilities and different scenarios that you want to try, but there is one thing that springs to the forefront of your mind, something that’s been buried deep in your mind ever since Keira’s lips had touched yours for the first time just a couple of hours ago.

“Wanna sit on Kei’s face.”

Alexia’s eyebrows raise in intrigue.

“Do you now? Well you prove to me that you can be good and I certainly think that can be arranged, now how about you focus a little bit harder on my fingers so I can focus a little bit more on Maria here, aprobado?”

You nod your head furiously, grinding your hips down onto Alexia’s fingers with motivation.

“No cumming without permission bebita, let me know when you’re close.”

You nod at Alexia, honestly too consumed with the feeling of Alexia’s finger tips repetitively hitting the walls of your insides. When she angles them just right, the pads of her two fingers brushing against your sweet spot, your spine shudders, all the wonderful sensations spreading out across your body.

Alexia’s fingers, whilst they may have struggled to fit in your mouth, they have absolutely zero problems fucking in and out of your pussy, your hole is practically sucking them in with every thrust, trying it’s very hardest to cling onto the feeling of Alexia.

With her palm pushing down against your clit, and your eyes on Keira, it doesn’t take you long to get close to the edge. Keira’s body is limp, her back pressed to Ingrid’s front whilst Ingrid fucks her brutally in reverse cowgirl.

When Keira screams, her own orgasm taking over, you are completely enthralled by the sight, everyone in the rooms seems to be. The noises leaving Keira’s mouth are so loud and so erotic, if you tried you could probably orgasm purely off of them.

Ingrid’s pace slows, but doesn’t come to a full stop, the Norwegian bouncing Keira up and down slowly, holding onto her hips and helping her to ride out her high.

Mapi apparently, isn’t far behind her, the Zaragozan’s moans suddenly becoming a lot quicker and louder, before you miss anything you pull your eyes from Keira, receiving immediate gratification in the form of Mapi, whose hips are stalled, her clit pressed down against Alexia’s as her body and coil in her stomach shatter.

It’s a rare moment where you see Alexia’s confident and composed facade fall. Alexia is beaming, pressing soft kisses to Mapi’s collar bone well before her orgasm hits, murmuring soft spanish words into her skin, very subtly thrusting her own hips up into Mapi, giving her a longer orgasm and something more to rut down against.

“Alexia-I’m close.”

With all the noises and people around you, it’s hard for you not to be on the edge. Alexia’s hand stops immediately, her palm lifting from your clit and fingers slowly withdrawing. It’s sad, being in a room full of people experiencing pleasure and having yours revoked, although you thank the lords that you aren’t Ona, that you aren’t being subjected to the pure pain and hell that she’s being put through.

You also suppose that if Ona wasn’t somewhat okay with it then it wouldn’t be happening, and if she was truly in pain she would safe word. That thought only seems to make you more aroused, the realisation that Ona, to some extent, is getting off on what she’s experiencing.

“Such a good job, bebita, letting me know when you're close. Once Keira has come down I’m sure she’ll have no problems fulfilling that little reward of yours.”

———————————————————————

lol i’m not one to normally leave things at a cliff hanger buttttttt yk gotta keep yall coming back somehow lol xoxo

[simp-ly-writes]

Office Love (pt.1)

What if Vox had an assistant that soon became more than that?

Pairing: Vox x assistant!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content near the end and canon-typical language.

A/N: something different to what I usually write- hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist (PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ When the application advertisement first flashed against your social media feed- you clicked past it very quickly before one of your friends was ushering you to apply. They had been working with the V's for a number of years now and produced a plethora a fan-favorite shows

↳ When you application got accepted and you were being thrown into a suit for the interview, you were all the more thankful when the overlord themselves were not hosting yet the managers were. A more than few warning here and there- but that was with every job you worked in hell. You didn't work hard enough, you were better off dead- simply put.

↳ You did not often see your boss in person after signing the contract with him day one. Only emailing him his schedule that was often cancelled mid-way through the day and you were running out of excuses for his clients

↳ Velvette and Valentino were often more intimidating that Vox. You had gotten used to his tantrums, PR nightmares, and televised cancellations that were often fixed with a light bit of hypnotization that you could only roll your eyes at before going back to your emails

↳ You would memorize his every need, knowing his favorite meals and coffee preferences, when he needed to recharge and even how to text exactly like him. You kept track of every social media handle that held his name, growing his followers while riffing on Alastor- an action that Vox dearly appreciated

↳ As time would progress, you would become too good at your job. So much so that his other six assistants had all gotten fired for lack of polish as Vox excused it. Clinking his coffee mug to yours sat at your desk. He hardly used his own office these days, often taking calls at your computer as you sat on your desk- off to the side as you rearranged his schedule once again

↳ You were starting to become his shadow and he always noticed when you were gone for a minute too long. He liked the reassurance your presence brought him- he enjoyed knowing that you would always know what to say in order to benefit the company and find ways for him not to interaction with people he disliked

↳ Velvette and Valentino noticed this as well- how close you had gotten to their business partner without a second thought. Sometimes you would even show up in replacement for Vox when one of their branches had gone down once again and often times they wished it was you that addressed the problem rather than the man himself

↳ When a reality show comes out, highlighting the lives of overlords all over the city including the three V's (mostly them though for PR that they desperately needed and had made multiple comments on). It did numbers and your friend from earlier could not have been happier getting that promotion to head producer of the show

↳ You soon became a fan favorite for your witty comebacks at the TV head as he wold only smile in return- liking that you had the heart to knock him down a few pegs. The fans would stalk everyones social media profiles, liking each image that had you just cropped out of it

↳ Vox had insisted that you were not to be seen in any of the media production- something about no wanting to corrupt your mind as well. You could only shake your head at this information- all you ever did was stare at screens all day, this comment made Vox's box go pink as his speech buffered. Taking a second to rethink your wording, your cheeks had appeared red while the cameras rolled and money starting pouring in

↳ The fans demanded more attention put towards you, screaming at you from behind the barricades as you walked the corporate building each morning. "CAN I GET A PICTURE WITH YOU," "I SHIP IT," "WORK FOR ME INSTEAD." They started to shove one another over, trying to get your attention as your feet picked up pace

↳ Vox had made his way through the wires and various security cameras settled around the neighbourhood. He wrapped an arm around your waist, ensuring that when the barricade fell and you were swarmed that you would not be dragged away with the crowd

↳ You voiced your thanks once safely in the building as Vox announced a surprise for your recent good work- this was their most profitable quarter yet and you would have Velvette tailored work to wear each day. Picking up the various blue suits you eyed them suspiciously to those of your boss. Vox only shrugged his shoulders before taking a call

↳ The dating allegation grew every week as blushed heavily at the headlines, Vox who now was only found in your office asked what was making you have such a reaction, even when he was in the middle of a meeting. You quickly hid your screen as he could only chuckle, sparking it back to life and projecting it on the monitor

↳ "Oh, so THIS is what has you all red- me is it?" Vox states with pride, leaning over the table and into your personal space as your blush only grows down your neck. You take a sip of your now cold coffee, hiding a wince as you get back on track with answering Valentino back

↳ When you arrive the next morning, dead flowers are found on your desk that make you chuckle, you read the note with a smile before handing the TV man his coffee for the morning, your chairs right beside one another as you work in tandum

↳ Years into your work now, you barley find yourself going home, choosing to stick for the V's movie nights together that they insist on you being present for alongside finding it easier to let Vox know of scheduling changes last minute from within your shared apaprtment

↳ After much demand, you and Vox have a one on one livestream interview for the public within your apartment, you both make small touches to one another, fixing his tie, he holds your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb- the fans are losing their shit as the other to V's sit back and rake in the cash

↳ A question about your work ethic and sex-worker allegation gets read out by Velvette that has Vox glitching out with rage as you pull on the back of his jacket, urging him to calm down as you loop your arm in his, leaning into his side, "run that by me one more time, Velvette," Vox states with a twitch as you blink your eyes towards her- pleading that she does not.

↳ After a particularly good corporate event, you find yourself in Vox's bed as he urges you not to leave, his voice is merely murmurs in your ear as you do not have the heart to roll away from. Soon these off hand-nights become a more common occurrence that as Valentino the slitest bit jealous at first, but when he surprises you in the mornings with a new package that got sent to the wrong apartment, he cannot help put wink at seeing the marks on your skin

↳ You and Vox never made anything official, you were still his assistant of course- his assistant that he would always have a hand on a bit too low for public attention. A worker who was NOT allowed to be asked on a date by someone else. And the person he jumped to protect against the smallest threat but against your name

(PT.2) (PT.3)

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @amarokofficial

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sharks

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: Viv comes to your house and you tell her about sharks

Viv's been at your house more often now.

It's a little strange.

Viv never used to come to the house by herself.

Always with your aunties and the other Arsenal girls.

Never alone.

But now, she's always at the house by herself. She comes home with Mummy from training and they sometimes have sleepovers in Mummy's Big Bed. Sometimes, she cooks you breakfast in the morning or helps pick you up from nursery.

It's weird.

The only person that's been around this much is Daan but she's gone now. It's not that Viv's taking her place but it's just a little weird to have someone around all the time again.

"Mummy!" You call," Need help, please!"

You're trying to get your favourite crayon set out but it's trapped by all the clutter in your toy box. You tug again but can't quite seem to get it.

"Mummy!"

"Hey, liefje." It's Viv instead of Mummy and you stop to look at her.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Beth's on a phone call. Can I help?"

You think for a moment before nodding. "My crayons," You say," Can't-Can't get them."

Viv peers into your toy box, seeing the way that your crayon pack is at the very bottom. Beth warned her about this, about the fact that you had a habit of drawing on everything you could (even the walls) so your crayons had been placed at the very bottom, buried under everything so you couldn't get at them as easily.

"Here, liefje," She says, pulling them out. She hands them to you.

"Thank you, Viv," You reply. You dump them onto the coffee table with your colouring books.

You've got more than one so you look back at Viv, who doesn't quite seem to know what to do with herself now that she's left completely alone with you with no Beth to act as a buffer.

You scamper back to her side, sliding your hand against hers. "Colour with me?" You don't wait for an answer, pulling her with you to sit cross-legged at the coffee table.

You shove a colouring book at her before flicking through your other one to decide which one you want to do. It takes a little while to choose, looking between the shark and the jellyfish.

You end up choosing the shark.

"D'you know that sharks have a lot of teeth?" You ask Viv as you colour," They lose 'em a lot so they need to have a lot more to make up for it."

"Wow," Viv says as she colours too, although she's mostly just watching you," You're very smart. Do you know any more shark facts?"

"Uh-huh. Baby sharks are born with all their teeth," You change your grey crayon to silver," Mummy says it's good I wasn't born with teeth because I used to try to bite things."

"Really?" Viv sounds amused.

"Yeah but I don't anymore."

You grab green to colour in some kelp. "Baby sharks are called pups," You continue," And baby sharks don't stay with their mothers. That's sad. I want to stay with Mummy forever."

"You're very smart," Viv says again.

"Sharks are my favourite animals!" You reply before shooting to your feet. You rummage through your toy chest before returning with arms full of stuffed sharks.

You lay them all out on the table, pushing off all your crayons. You sit extremely close to Viv, closer to her than ever before.

"This is a hammerhead," You say, holding one of your toys," 'Cause their head looks like a hammer. And this is tiger shark 'cause it's got tiger stripes. And this is a whale shark. It's like a whale but it's really a shark."

"Wow."

Viv's pretty happy to sit with you and listen to your explanation of sharks. In all honesty, it's pretty impressive how much you know and you're clearly so happy to tell her so she's content to just listen.

Which is how Beth finds you both later, when she's finished her phone call.

You're practically in Viv's lap, excitedly explaining the new shark added to your collection.

"Hey, y/n," Beth says and you immediately stop talking.

"Mummy!"

You hurry to her side and hug her tight.

"Hey," She says again, a hand running over your head," Did you tell Viv all about your toys?"

"My sharks!" You nod and let Mummy pick you up, balancing you on her hip.

"Your sharks," She laughs, bouncing you slightly," Come on, Viv. Didn't you say that you knew some nice restaurant near here? Let's order dinner."

●～●～●～●～

Slowly but surely, Viv's things begin to appear in the house.

It starts small, some of her clothes and a phone charger. Next it's some of her books and then her trophies and medals. It happens so gradually that you don't even realise it happens until suddenly Viv's taking care of you on her own and never going back to her own house.

"Mummy," You say one evening as you lay on Mummy's chest while Viv does the dishes," Does Viv have a house?"

You bounce a bit from the force of Mummy's laughs. "What kind of question is that?"

You look at her. "Viv's always at our house. Does that mean she's not got a house?"

"Where have you gotten that idea?"

"You said that Daan didn't have a house anymore when she came to live with us."

Mummy sits up and you know this is going to be one of her serious talks.

"Well...Do you remember when I told you about dating?"

"When two people want to be romantic so they hang out and do stuff together."

"Yeah, that's right. Well, after people date for a bit, they move in together."

You think about that for a moment, trying to translate that into something you understand. Sharks don't do that.

"Er...Why?"

"So they can spend more time together."

Sharks don't move in with each other. Sharks don't date. It must be a human thing.

Mummy takes your silence as an invitation to continue. "And Mummy and Viv are dating so she's moving in with us."

You think about that too, finally putting together that Mummy and Daan must have dated as well but don't anymore because Mummy and Viv date now.

"Viv...lives with us?"

"She does," Mummy says," Is that okay?"

"Viv gave me a new shark," You say to Mummy instead," It's a basking shark. It's cool. Viv's cool. She can stay."

Mummy releases a long breath and affectionately rubs your cheek. "I'm glad. I like Viv a lot."

"I'm glad too," Viv says as she approaches," Otherwise I'd have to give this to some other little girl."

You don't know where she's gotten this new shark but you're very happy.

Mummy shrieks though. "Viv! That's disgusting!"

"Goblin shark!" You look between Mummy and Viv. "They're my favourite!"

It's horrifically ugly and you love it so much.

"Thank you, Viv!" You say, giving her a hug as you take it, hurrying over to what Mummy calls your 'shark shrine' to introduce your new friend to all of your old ones.

"It's so ugly, Viv," Beth complains as they both watch you play," It's going to give me nightmares."

Viv chuckles. "Just wait until you google what the real thing looks like."

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Counting Stars

Pairing: Wild x Reader

Warning(s): Shameless smut; you and Wild have fun on the roof.

Notes: I jammed this out in like 4 hours so enjoy my brainrot.

Masterlist

"...Are you sure this is safe?" You asked hesitantly, eyeing the open window with a healthy amount of apprehension.

"How do you mean?" A pants-less Wild asked, a single eyebrow raised with one foot already poised on the windowsill. He had been noticeably ecstatic when the chain had ended up in his Hyrule, and you thought his grin would never cease when it was discovered that Hateno Village was less than an hour's walk away, which led to everyone piling inside his admittedly-clean home for a good night's rest.

Except Wild, and, obviously, you.

You would be a liar to say you weren't the tiniest bit pissed when he poked you awake in the dead of night, practically vibrating with excitement and another emotion that you were far too exasperated to consider, but it was whatever, and you knew you would never turn down an opportunity to spend some alone time with your hero, even when he all but dragged you up to the spire structure in the back of the house.

"I don't know," you tried not to grimace, you really did. "It just seems... unstable."

"Mentally or physically?"

You gently smacked his arm. "The roof, honey."

"Ah, nah," he shook his head, shooting you a mischievous smile. "You wouldn't believe the things I've done on this baby–it'll be fine."

You crossed your arms over your chest, expression turning wary. "...That's ominous."

But Wild simply winked, and, in true fashion, jumped out of the window with a soft whoop. You let out a gasp and rushed to the edge, only to see him standing on the tiles, a few meters below you, wearing an excited grin. He glanced up at you and waved his arms in an invitation you knew all too well.

You ran a hand down your face. "Oh Hylia..."

"C'mon, sweetheart," the hero called, . "Live a little!"

"Easy for you to say," you grumbled under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing!"

You were going to die tonight, you were sure of it.

Wild waited patiently, making (adorable) grabby hands as you hesitantly hauled yourself up onto the windowsill, the cool air ruffling your hair. "...You're positive we won't fall through the roof?"

"Only one way to find out!" He crowed, looking more amused than anything. You allowed yourself to grin, feeling slightly braver in the face of his infectious enthusiasm. "Just jump and I'll do the rest. Promise."

You inhaled deeply, gathering all your courage.

"If I break anything, I'm blaming you," you mumbled to the wind before leaping from the safety of the spire.

The first thing you registered was the cloying feeling of imminent death as your body plummeted to the tiles below, squeezing your eyes shut as gales of wind whistled in your ears, buffering against your skin and clothes. Maybe you were screaming, or maybe you weren't–it was all a blur of motion until a pair of arms wrapped snuggly around your waist and legs, effectively haunting your fall. You immediately clung to Wild as he held you close, chuckling softly when your head pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart ringing in your ears.

"See?" He asked, grinning down at you. "Told ya I got you!"

You found the strength to smack his left pectoral. "Oh, shut up."

Wild laughed, and you yelped when he sat down on the tiles, maneuvering you so that your back pressed against his front, bare legs caging yours on either side, and you resisted the urge to admonish him for refusing to wear pants again, mostly because he was warm and the night was cold. "So, what are we doing out here?"

"Look," Wild's hand wound under your chin, gingerly tipping it towards the sky, the color of twilight with dozens of twinkling stars scattered across the expanse like little diamonds. The most impressive thing, however, was the moon, which hung heavy in the corner of the sky, more vivid than you ever remembered seeing it.

"Woah!" You exclaimed, taking in the sight with awe. "It's so big!"

"That's what you said–"

"Wild, I swear to Hylia–"

"Kidding, kidding!" He raised his hands in surrender when you turned a burning eye in his direction. "It's a full moon tonight, and I thought you'd want to see it."

You paused, taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. Not that Wild wasn't capable of being sweet, it was simply that it came in leaps and bounds, ebbing and flowing like ocean waves. You were on a quest, after all; there wasn't time to fool around like normal people did.

Until now, your brain reminded you as unhelpfully as possible. "I... thank you, Wild."

"Anything for you," the hero mumbled, his arms wrapping snuggly around your frame. You leaned into him, humming happily when his face buried itself in the crook of your neck and shoulder.

"For me?"

"For you," he responded with a conviction that had your heart fluttering in your chest. One of your hands wormed from his grip, reaching behind you to stroke the back of his head, fingers tangling in the hair just above his ponytail.

Wild made a noise between a groan and a hum, hugging you impossibly closer. His knees bent, bare heels bracing against the tile. You winced. "Hylia, wearing socks once in a while won't kill you, you know."

You heard his shrug before you felt it. "I'm not bothered."

"And why's that?"

"Because I've got a cutie in my lap telling me how bad I am."

You snorted, clapping a hand over your mouth so as to not encourage him. "Oh my goodness."

Wild grinned against your skin. "What? Can't handle the heat?"

"Honey, I can handle you any day."

"Careful, or I'll take you up on that," he warned, and you merely giggled, leaning your head back against his collarbone.

"Flirt."

"You bring out the best in me," he replied, half teasingly and half fondly.

"I'm honored," you mumbled, turning your head to the side to press a tender kiss on his temple.

Wild chuckled, a deep, smooth sound the reverberated through your skin. "I aim to please," he said, and you believed it. Not that you would admit it, of course.

"Hush, you."

Cerulean eyes flashed mischievously in the moonlight. "Make me."

Your hand released his hair and you spun in his lap. The Champion was grinning, per usual, when you cupped his face, the pads of your right fingers rested carefully over his scars as your thumb brushed his bottom lip. "Don't think I won't, hero."

Wild's lips parted as he sucked in a breath, eyes darting from your face to your own lips in record time. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his left cheek. "There," you said, pulling back slowly. "Now quiet."

The hero was pouting now, in true fashion, and you had half a mind to simply kiss the expression from his cheeky little face. "Aw, sweetheart, that's not a real kiss..."

"It's the best you're getting," you responded sassily.

Wild cocked his head. "Why's that?"

"Gee, maybe because we're on a roof?"

"So?"

"I– Excuse me?"

The Champion leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours as your noses bumped slightly. His fingers danced over your clothed hip, and you were momentarily rendered speechless, until a soft squeeze pulled you from your thoughts.

"...What're you doing over there?"

"I love you," the hero said hopefully, and you knew you were going to kill him, if he didn't do it first with whatever idea he planned to enact tonight.

"We're not having sex on a roof, Wild," you interjected firmly.

"Aw, c'mon," he whined, pouting again. You wondered what had possessed you to let him get to fourth base.

"No."

"But sweetheart–!"

"Absolutely not."

"I'll catch you if you fall!"

"That's not the point!"

He huffed, still unwilling to let go of your hips. "It's romantic, though."

"Romantic, my ass," you scoffed in response, wondering how the hell tile burn and the possibility of death When his gaze landed on your butt, you smacked his chest gently. "My eyes are up here, Wild!"

"I know," the Champion's voice was deceptively innocent, but you knew better. "Can't blame a guy for enjoying the view."

"Then look at the stars," you shot back with a deadpan expression.

Wild's eyes sparkled, and he pulled you closer. "Why would I when the most beautiful star is right in front of me?"

You blinked, slightly caught off guard by the sheer smoothness of that particular comment. "I– who taught you that?"

"Can't remember," the hero smirked. "But I'd like to thank them."

If your face wasn't already on fire, it sure was now. "You little–"

"Now that's not what you said," he teased, and you wondered if it was too late to simply jump to your own death. Unfortunately, his arms were solid around your frame, and you doubted he would allow you to die with the dignity you deserved. "And you call me a tease."

You deadpanned. "Because you are, Wild."

He shrugged, gaze turning calculating. "And what does that make you?"

There was no response, so he did the next best thing and scoot back against the base of the stone spire, dragging you along with him. You helped when the tiles scraped your socked feet. "I swear to Hylia, if we break through this roof–"

"You'll kill me?" He grinned cheekily.

"Damn right."

"Kinky."

You groaned.

Wild continued to smile as he leaned against the spire, unbothered by the slight chill of the air. "Well?"

"Well what?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to make me or what?"

You blinked. "...You're serious."

"I've never been more serious in my life," he said solemnly, and it was a beat unto itself not to burst into laughter.

"You literally said that last week while trying to convince me to give you a blowjob in a tree."

"And it worked, didn't it?" the Champion grinned back.

"That's beside the point," you huffed, knowing full-well that he was right. The tile was starting to dig into your knees, and you shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to alleviate the ache. "Don't start things you can't finish, Wild."

"Who says I won't finish?"

"I do."

"C'mon," he pouted, nose scrunching cutely, and you had to physically remind yourself that what he was asking for was downright madness. "Where's your sense of adventure? Danger?"

"I left it at the window."

"Sigh. For me?"

You chewed your lip, shifting some more. You weren't completely opposed to the idea, but there were enough factors to make you think twice, mostly because your traveling companions were sleeping below and you really didn't want to imagine what would happen if you and Wild crashed, butt naked, through the roof in the dead of night.

"Fine," his expression immediately shifted to elated, and you pushed on his chest to stop him from getting ahead of himself. "BUT–"

"Hm?"

"–If we break anything, I'm leaving you to bleed out."

"...K–"

Oh, for Hylia's sake!

"Finish that sentence and you're not getting laid for a week."

Wild obediently shut his mouth.

"Good boy," you cooed, rewarding him with a swift kiss to the nose, ignoring his disappointed whine. Remembering his current pants-less state, you furrowed your brows. "You're not uncomfortable?"

"Nope," he grinned. "'M used to this."

"Fucking on the roof or being uncomfortable? Because both of those are slightly concerning."

"Yes."

You sighed, wondering why you even tried. "Great," you landed another peck to his lips, only for his hand to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed his warm mouth. "Mmph!"

After a moment, he pulled away, leaving you both panting. "You can't keep doing that."

You raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion. "Doing what?"

"Kissing me like that and not letting me return the favor," the hero mumbled, bringing you in for a second kiss, one hand cradling your head while the other traced circles on your clothed hip. You gasped lightly, and his tongue immediately darted into your mouth, bumping cheekily against your own. Your hands squeezed his shoulders as your thighs clenched into each other, and you hazily wished he was the one between them.

You broke apart, clinging to each other like it was your last night together. Wild's eyes darted down when you winced, the hard points of the tile digging into your skin, and hauled you into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. "Better?"

"Yeah," you breathed, running a hand down his back as your face nosed against his neck, lips brushing his adams apple, which bobbed shakily at the contact. You felt his fingers trace the edge of your shirt, shallowly dripping below the fabric to skim over your skin, and hummed your approval into his flesh. "Go ahead."

Wild pulled your shirt up, and you leaned back to allow him to slip it over your head, revealing your chest to his piercing gaze. Gingerly, he cupped your breasts, thumbs passing lovingly over your hardened nipples. "You're beautiful," he said, and you shivered at the words. "I don't know how I got so lucky."

"Shush," if your face wasn't red before, it certainly was now. "I'm the lucky one."

"Hm," he didn't sound convinced, but mercifully let the matter rest, ducking down to roll his tongue over your right nipple, suckling gently. You sucked in a breath, carding your fingers through his hair as he laved and sucked the rosy bud, using his other hand to squeeze the underside of your other breast.

"Ah– Wild!"

He didn't respond verbally, moving to your other nipple as the first one left his mouth with a wet pop, shiny with spit. Your hips rocked forward, brushing his erection through the thin cloth of his boxers, both of you groaning softly at the sensation. He was still wearing his champion's tunic, while your sleep trousers were regrettably on.

Wild detached from your boob, staring up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. One of his hands tugged at the band of your pants. "You're wearing too many clothes."

"Pot, meet kettle."

"I'll show you a kettle," he said, and before you had time to ask what in Hylia that meant, was practically ripping your trousers down your legs, tossing the garment over his shoulder. You squeaked in surprise, and he pressed an apologetic kiss to your sternum, muttering some bullshit about being 'sorry', like you actually believed him.

"Hey–! It's cold, you jerk!"

"I'll warm you up," he promised, and you would have scoffed had he not chosen that exact moment to run his index finger down the center of your underwear, drawing a muffled moan from your lips. Wild grinned, fingers dipping beneath the fabric to graze your stiffened clit, slick with arousal, which had you slapping a hand over your mouth in an effort to remain quiet. "You're so wet, sweetheart."

"S-Shut up," you said, not because you were mad, but because not all the boys were known for their stellar sleep schedules, leaving a part of you terrified at the prospect of being caught, naked, on the roof in the middle of the night. "What if–"

"So?" Wild's expression grew cocky. "We can be quiet."

"You mean I can be quiet– Oh Hylia!" You gasped when two of his fingers sunk into the tight, wet heat of your core, crooking up in the way he knew drove you wild. "F-Fuck!"

"I agree," the hero chuckled, beginning to pump his digits in and out at a steady pace, not bothering to fully remove your underwear. His spare hand rubbed down your bare side, sending shivers down your spine when the pad of his thumb pressed down on your clit. "Feels good?"

"M-Mmm," you nodded, burying your face in his shoulder, lips brushing the soft fabric of his tunic. It was too much and not enough, but you knew you wouldn't last if he kept it up, if the coil steadily building in your stomach was anything to go by. "Please, Wild–"

He turned his head to nibble lightly at your neck, sucking marks on the delicate flesh. You wanted to hiss at him for the action, but a solid flick of your clit had your thoughts stalling. "Are you close?" Wild whispered against you, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive skin.

"Y-Yeah," you panted, hands scratching down his clothed back. Wild doubled down, gently scissoring his fingers against your gummy walls before they curled in tandem once more, finding that spongey spot within you with ease. "Oh– Wild!"

"That's it, cum for me," the hero purred as he repeated the motion. Your vision went white as your orgasm crashed down on you, no less fierce than the roaring ocean or thundering sky, and the world seemed to melt away as your veins ignited with pleasure, only dimly aware of the fingers leaving your panties and hands coaxing you to rest against his chest. "It's alright, I've got you."

You hummed, shivering slightly when cool air caressed your sweat-soaked back. He had definitely succeeded in warming you up, but all things had their end. "H–"

"Hang on," he said, already one step ahead of you. You blinked in surprise when he removed his tunic, draping the fabric over your head and guiding your tired arms into the sleeves. It was a bit big, and you were distinctly aware of the type of view the slit in the middle of the tunic offered, but there was no way in hell you were returning it. "Better?"

"Mmmm," you said eloquently, nuzzling your face into his now bare shoulder. "Thanks, honey."

"Anytime," his hands traveled to your hips, tracing gentle patterns on the soft skin. "Now..."

With a groan, you sat up blearily, already knowing where this was going. "Yes?"

"Hey baby," he said with a grin that should have been illegal. "Wanna play with my master sword?"

Your eye twitched, and you smacked his arm, moving to stand. Wild's expression fell slightly, and his grip tightened, keeping you where he wanted you. "Hey–"

"Wild, I swear to all that is holy–"

"But sweetheart!"

"–I am not playing with your dick on a roof."

"But I played with your–"

"Do not finish that sentence."

He huffed, gazing at you with a petulant expression. "C'mon, (Y/n), what's the worst that could happen?"

You sighed, long and hard. "We'll both fall off the roof and die?"

"Unlikely, you know I'd catch you."

He would, but that wasn't the point. You pressed an apologetic kiss to his lips. "I dunno, Wild, what if someone sees?"

He responded by pulling you impossibly closer, the warmth of his skin bleeding through the fabric of your borrowed tunic. "You know, this is the part when you say 'is that the master sword in your pants or are you just happy to see me?'"

"...You're impossible."

"And proud of it!" he said without missing a beat, and you would be a liar if you said you didn't grin a bit at the admission. His expression shifted slightly, and he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. "It's okay if you don't want to, I just–"

"Actually," you interjected, smirking lightly when he perked up. "I don't suppose you'd be up to making wildberry pancakes in the morning?"

Wild smiled boyishly, arms tightening around you when he realized the direction the situation was taking. "It's cute that you think you even have to ask."

"Is that a yes?"

"Absolutely."

"In that case," it took a fair bit of courage for your hands to find the waistband of his boxers, tented with the evidence of his arousal. There was even a small wet spot in the center of the fabric, which was both concerning and flattering. Wild sucked in a breath when you pulled his boxers just below his balls, not wanting him to have tile burn from what was undoubtedly about to occur. "...How do you–?"

"Touch me," the hero interjected, looking at you with an expression that practically screamed need, despite his earlier confidence. It had your heart thudding in your chest, hand reaching down to grip the middle of his length. "Please."

His skin felt hot against your hand, the head of his dick flushed a darker shade of pink that taped off the further down you went, a near-steady dribble of precum burbling at the tip. You pumped your hand slowly, spreading the rest of his dick in shiny pre as your core throbbed. This wasn't the first time you and Wild had been intimate, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, meaning you knew a fair bit about what made him tick, which is why the next thing you did was press your thumb against the veined underside of his length, right below the head.

"Fuck!" Wild swore, hips jerking slightly, and you immediately silenced him with a kiss, swiping over the rosy tip in retribution. He returned the favor eagerly, moaning when your tongue slipped into his mouth, bumping teasingly against his own. The kiss quickly grew, thin strings of saliva running down your chin as you kissed like people starved. You pumped your hand faster, only pausing when he broke the kiss to grab your wrist. "Mmph– wait, wait–"

You abruptly paused, hand falling slack in his grip, and the thought that you had done something wrong was a terrifying one. "Wild?"

"I–" he huffed, taking a short break to breath. "I want to–"

"Want to what?" You prompted, feeling a bit relieved that he didn't seem too distraught. "You can tell me."

"Can you," his hand cupped your mound, thumb brushing your swollen clit, and you immediately understood the assignment. "Dawn is– we can't stay out much longer."

"Guess we'll have to be quick, then," you found yourself grinning, heart swelling when he gripped your hips with vigor, returning the expression. You lifted your hips, scooting forward with his help, and moaned softly when his fingers brushed your dripping heat. It took a bit of maneuvering, but you eventually ended up with his dick sandwiched between your cunt and his stomach, the throbbing length sliding easily through your folds. You sucked in a breath when he head jostled your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through the sensitive nub. "Aah, Wild!"

"Feels good?" he asked in a vaguely teasing tone, guiding your hips up and down on his cock, panting slightly as your heat enveloped him. Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders when he bent forward to capture one of your bouncing nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud with practiced ease. "You're, ah, so hot."

"Mmm," you groaned, temporarily unable to form any words past his name and distinctly-sexual curses. "I need–"

Wild released your nipple, filthy and loud. His eyes shone brightly in the movement, studying your every expression with rapt attention. "Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"You," you panted, nails digging into his skin. "Please, Wild–"

"It's okay, you can have me," he soothed, manually slowing the pace of your hips with his grip. You wined at the loss of sensation, though it was quickly remedied when he reached down, guiding the head of his dick to press firmly against your entrance, the tip just barely sinking into your pulsing warmth. "You're so perfect," he groaned when you began to slide down, taking every glorious inch like the champ you were. "I-I love you so much."

You sucked in a breath at his words, bucking your hips slightly, and he pressed a kiss to the trembling column of your neck, brushing over your quivering throat. Your hips met his thighs with a wet-sounding noise, and you had to pause for a moment to register how full you felt, how warm and safe his arms made you feel. Speaking of arms, one of Wild's slid up the front of your borrowed tunic, palming your right breast and gingerly flicking your pebbled nipple. "Wild!"

"Shh," he hushed you gently, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Quiet, sweetheart."

"It's hAHrd when you're doing that," you shot back, hardly able to sting together a sentence when he was so deep inside you.

His grin grew devious. "What's wrong with this?" You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming when he twisted your poor nipple.

"Jerk," you gasped, clenching around his dick in what you hoped was karmic vengeance. You lifted your hips, sliding back down on him, and Wild grunted, giving another gentle squeeze to your tit. "I-I thought you were going to make it worth my while."

A dark look flashed across his expression. "Oh, I intend to."

Just like that, he was kissing you again, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other settled on the small of your back, silently encouraging you to bounce on his cock as he rocked his hips up. You moved to wrap your arms fully around his neck, chests pressed together snugly as your fingers tugged on his loose ponytail, moaning against Wild's lips when the pace increased. There was a familiar coil winding in your belly, whether from the thrill of being caught or Wild himself, but you wouldn't have objected to it being both. "'M gonna–"

"Come on," he urged, thrusting up into your poor body. You jolted, using his mouth to muffle the yelp that threatened to rip past your lips, and began to shake when the hand on your ass circled to your front, the pad of his thumb finding purchase on your sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. "Hylia, you're so tight... cum for me, sweetheart?"

You hugged his neck closer, practically screaming your approval against his mouth, hips twitching as you continued to bounce atop him, determined to finish this before the sun rose. Wild broke the kiss to bury his face in your neck, suctioning a trail of bruising hickeys down the expanse of skin. You knew they would show, but you didn't care, clinging to him for dear life as the coil in your belly grew tighter and tighter. "Wild–... Link– Please!"

A loud growl reverberated in Wild's chest at the sound of his name–his true name–and he grabbed your hip in his free hand, using it as leverage to pound up into you like a man starved. You responded by sinking your teeth in his exposed shoulder to keep yourself from screaming to the heavens as your orgasm crashed over you, vision briefly going white as unimaginable pleasure zipped through every inch of your body, alighting nerves you had forgotten existed. Wild groaned when your muscles clenched around him like a vice, and you shuddered when he rammed into you one last time, thumb never leaving your abused clit as sticky warmth filled you. "(Y/n)!"

Bonelessly, you collapsed against his heaving chest, squirming slightly to let him know you were done. Wild panted with exertion, his hand coming up to card through your hair. "You okay?"

"Never better," you huffed a laugh against the skin of his shoulder, Your skin felt sticky, tacky with sweat and... other fluids. Speaking of liquids that shouldn't belong in you while you were on top of a roof, Wild shifted slightly, a small noise leaving you when his softened cock slipped from your warmth, rivulets of cum already drooling down your thighs, quickly cooling in the night air. "Wild..."

"On it," he said, swiftly pulling his boxers up and hauling you into his arms with a gentleness that had your heart thudding in your chest. There was a ladder on the side of the roof, but you knew he was going to ignore it, choosing to brace yourself as the hero hopped off the ledge, landing perfectly on the ground below. A part of you wondered how his feet were still fine after all that effort, but you quickly remembered that this was Wild, the man who loved going barefoot almost as much as he liked going pants-less. "Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up," his face dipped down to plant a sweet kiss on your cheek. "Okay?"

"Okay," you parroted, quieting when he approached the front door. Seeing as his hands were already full, you reached for the doorknob, stealthily maneuvering the door open. You were wearing his tunic, which was long enough to cover all the important bits, and the other men had no qualms seeing each other naked, so you weren't worried as Wild snuck inside the house, pushing the door closed with his heel. The rest of the chain was laid out across the floor on their sleeping mats, though Wind had used his age as an excuse to get the couch, and you held your breath, praying that they would all be heavy sleepers tonight.

Wild's arms tightened, pulling you closer in a sort of protective gesture. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck and shoulder as he started up the steps, carrying you to the bed on the second floor. It was no small miracle that it hadn't already been claimed, and you let out a small sigh of relief when the Champion set you down on the sheets. "Hang on," his hand pressed against your sternum when you tried to sit up. "I'll get a washcloth."

"And some tea," you reminded him gently, winching slightly when more globs of cum burbled from your sore cunt. Goddesses, you had really gone crazy, hadn't you?

"Of course," Wild stroked your cheek lovingly before starting down the steps, not bothering to put anything else on that magnificent body of his. There was a soft bang, followed by a few sleepy grumbles, but no one shot up to start yelling about the disturbance, so you allowed yourself to maintain your pretend innocence. The steps creaked, and Wild practically bounded across the landing, a damp-looking cloth in one hand and a cup of liquid in the other. You scooted against the headboard to receive the tea, sipping it while he nudged your legs apart, going to so far as to sling your left knee over his shoulder, wiping leftover cum from your thighs and core. "Is it good?"

"Nope," you snorted. Moon tea would never be an enjoyable drink, but you finished it anyways, setting the cup on the nightstand. "But it's good for me."

"You know, I wouldn't mind having–"

"Perish the thought."

He raised his unoccupied hand in surrender. "Kidding, kidding!"

"Better be," you mumbled, hissing when the washcloth brushed over your sore clit. "Ah– gentle."

"Sorry," Wild said with a wince, leaning down to press a kiss to your lower belly. Your heart fluttered, and you waited patiently for him to finish. "...How do you feel?"

"Sore," you replied honestly. He had been a bit rougher than usual, but you weren't complaining. Much. "But it was nice."

"Yeah?" He asked, looking hopeful. "Nice enough to do again?"

You made a face. "Don't push your luck, mister."

"I'm joking," he reassured you by leaning forward to peck your lips, tossing the washcloth onto the floor below. You grimaced slightly, knowing that you were likely the one who was going to have to wash it later, but that was a problem for tomorrow, so you simply opened your arms to him. Wild settled in your embrace with a happy sigh, head tucked under your chin with an arm slung just under your breasts. The scars on his cheek felt rough against your skin, but you couldn't have loved them more. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Love you too, honey," you responded softly, running your hand down his spine. Exhaustion was quickly taking hold, and you noted how close the moon had gotten to the horizon, heralding the dawn's approach. It was unfortunate–you had been looking forward to getting a full night's rest for weeks–but you couldn't bring yourself to be upset at the Champion, who had already fallen asleep, clearly exhausted from your... activities. Not that you minded, he deserved a break, and you couldn't help but smile as you drifted to sleep, the first rays of dawn illuminating the sky like a firebrand.

You were at the dining table when it happened. The sun was high in the sky, and you were pleased to report that you had managed to get six hours of rest before Wind came to throw himself on your stomach, shouting some bullshit about how the day waited for no one.

"Wild, I hate to be the one to tell you this," Warriors began, having just come in after what you assumed to be a bath. "But whoever made your roof did not care one bit."

"How do you mean?" Wild asked from his place by the fire, likely entrenched in the wildberry pancakes he was making.

"Ugh," Legend joined the fray, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "For once, I agree with the captain, it was shaking all night–"

You nearly choked on your milk.

"–And something hit my forehead!" Wind interjected from his place across from you, a slight whine in his tone, rubbing the affected area despite there being no physical evidence to be seen.

"Was it a piece of tile?" Hyrule asked, looking up to study the ceiling with a concerned expression. "I hope nothing falls through–"

"No, I think it was a bug," Wind said thoughtfully, putting a hand on his chin.

"A bug?" Twilight asked, looking at you quizzically. "I thought ya closed all tha' windows?"

"I..." You were not having this conversation right now, but apparently fate had other plans. "I'm not sure, it could have gotten in through a crack?"

"Do remember what it looked like?" Sky asked.

"I squished it," the Sailor responded, and you breathed a sigh of relief at the supposed end of this conversation from hell. "But I was listening more to the noises–"

Fuck!

"Noises?" Time spoke, tone vaguely curious. "What kind of noises?"

Wind shrugged, and you wanted to die. "They were weird, I don't know."

"I think I heard things too," Four added with a thoughtful expression, leaning back against the chair. "Like... animal noises?"

"They sounded like the noise a cat makes when it's mating," Legend said with a perfect deadpan, and you would have laughed had your dignity not depended on it.

"What if there's a cat outside?" Wind's face instantly lit up. "We should go look for it!"

"Dunno," Wild said, finally putting his two cents in as he placed a steaming pile of pancakes on the table, taking a seat beside you as everyone dug in. "It's probably long gone if it was here last night."

"Aw..." Wind mumbled, mouth already stuffed full of pancake. You grimaced when more than a few crumbs rained past his lips, and Legend leaned forward to smack the back of the Sailor's head. "Hwey!"

"Chew your food, idiot."

"Fwuc owf–"

"Boys," Time interrupted before the situation could escalate further. He turned his gaze to Wild. "It sounds like repairs are in order, we'll help in any way we can."

"I'll keep that in mind," the Champion said gratefully, eyes sliding to you as a suspiciously giddy light flashed in them. "Say, (Y/n), how about helping me take a look after breakfast? I know how good you are with hammers, after all."

You gaped, knowing he wasn't talking about repairing the roof. With a forced grin and gaze that could have cut iron, you answered. "Sure thing, hon–" your hand slipped an inch over to grip his thigh, and Wild jerked subtly, ears turning slightly pink. "–but don't come crying when I make you do all the hammering."

"...I don't know what the fuck this is, but you two need a room," Legend said in disgust.

"No, a bed."

"Sky, please."

"What?" The skyloftian said with a wink. "Beds are more comfy."

"...I hate you sometimes."

"You love us," Warriors said, and the Vet's fist clenched.

"Actually–"

"Hey," Four interjected around a mouthful of pancakes, jerking his thumb to you and Wild. "We already hear enough from those two, we don't need to add a third."

"Oh Hylia," Twilight said, and you took great satisfaction in seeing him took a bit green.

"What?"

"Shut up and eat your pancakes," you said, shoveling a forkful of fluffy goodness into your mouth, humming happily. Wild was truly the best, and not just because of that mouthwatering ass of his.

"(Y/n), are you going to help us look for the cat?" Wind asked sweetly, and you caught Wild's gaze long enough for him to mouth 'pussy', followed by a very rude gesture using his tongue and the fork he was holding.

You buried your head in your hands and wondered how difficult it would be to make his death look like an accident.

I've been in a bit of a funk, so hopefully this makes up for all the radio silence.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Mattheo Riddle Headcannons

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Being the son of the Dark Lord is no easy task. Obviously.

Growing up, Mattheo had very limited contact with other people, which stunts his social skills a lot, especially with his peers

Once he breaks out and has the ability to meet other people, he's 100% an extrovert because he feels like he has to make up for everything that he missed out on

Growing up alone though made him very independent and self sufficient

Lots of trust issues, lots of abandonment issues

But he's also very bad at picking up on social cues, and reading other people's emotions

He grew up being outwardly judged by everyone around him, which caused him to develop a sort of apathetic attitude as a buffer

This gives him a sense of freedom because if he doesn't care about other's opinions, he can do whatever he wants, they'll judge him either way, so why not do what makes him happy

Mattheo also has a deep internal rage

Like, level 11 out of 10 on the scale of anger issues

He bottles up all his emotions and frustration with the world, often lashing out and exploding at the smallest triggers

His frustration mostly stems from the fact that it's not fair that he's suffering for the actions of his father. Because at the end of the day, he's still innocent in all of it

This is also why he's particularly spiteful and disdainful of authoritarian figures

He simply doesn't owe them anything

At Hogwarts it's hard for him at first. It's pretty clear that he didn't have much of a childhood and that he was forced to grow up much too fast

And once again, he finds himself being judged by everyone, so nothing new

His biggest pet peeve is when someone complains about a minor "tragedy" from their childhood, because he's absolutely certain that he had it worse

Lowkey victim complex™️

He's able to eventually bond closely with Theodore Nott, sharing a lot of similar childhood trauma (we <3 trauma bonding) and surprisingly Lorenzo Berkshire who shares his fuck-all mentality

Many assume that he's a malicious bully, based solely on his last name, but he's really more of a chaos instigator

He rebels against authority and stands up for what he might find to be an injustice, but he'd never go after someone without cause

Hogwarts is one of the first places he's able to truly act his age

He joins the Slytherin quidditch team,

He's a beater (which is kind of therapeutic as it allows him to let out a lot of his anger)

Often skives off of class,

He's not book smart like Theo, but makes up for it with street smarts

And likes to pull Theo into the fray simply because he can

This is also how he gets his reputation for frequently sleeping around to put it nicely

Mattheo grew up with a distinct lack of affection from those around him which causes him to search out any hint of it that he can find

He doesn't really use girls per se, he just doesn't quite understand the concept of love

But when Mattheo falls, he falls hard

The first time he catches feelings, he's absolutely terrified that he's under the influence of a love potion

Very confused, very upset, and denies it to the ends of the Earth

But once he comes around, he's all in

He doesn't like to think of himself as jealous, just territorial.

Jealousy is when something isn't yours and you want it. But you belong to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't defend his territory

He also isn't shy at all when it comes to PDA, simply because he wants everyone to know what's his

Definitely love bombs, but he doesn't know what that means

Won't bat an eye before hexing someone for looking at you too long (will act innocent and pretend it wasn't him)

Honestly probably would not be the best partner initially because he's so used to being independent

And would likely try to hide a lot of his anger and emotions from you because his biggest fear would be being judged by someone he loves

It would take a lot of time and effort to work through, but Mattheo would be willing to put in the work because he's determined to have the one thing his father never could