#but sometimes u have to like.. go outside of your own work and look at something else and read and enjoy something else

[oh-katsuki]

i love reading a good book and feeling rejuvenated going back to my own writing. it's like getting a new perspective on storytelling and the different ways to do it. wonderful feeling.

[luciality]

iggypan

[theogonize]

jjk men and their red flags

a/n: i'm feeling problematic :> tell me what u think (agree/disagree/add more?) this is all for shits n giggles !! non sorcerer au kinda

kento nanami — (over)protective

but like... to the point where it feels like he's treating you like a child! he doesnt like to see you sweat or even work at all for that matter. he loves it when you cook but has bought covers for all the knifes. if he sees a burn on your hand get ready for a 10 minute long lecture. if you accidentally fall he wont let you get up for atleast 3 days to help you ""heal."" it's almost like he doesnt trust you to take care of yourself :') he probably has like 3 separate first-aid kits everywhere.

suguru geto — emotionally unavailable

i feel like this is explainable to his character (sort of.) i dont think that he'd make you feel isolated at all, he's be an amazing listener and probably memorizes every word you say. he listens to you rant and even trauma dump with insane patience. but at some point it feels as though you hardly know him. he's talk to you a lot but very little of it is personal and you hardly know what he's thinking because his ass is not tell you. he also unintentionally distances himself from people from time to time. this applies to you too and you can feel him getting emotionally distant sometimes. it isnt something he does knowingly but it sure ass hell bothers you.

satoru gojo — very clingy and needy

this nigga. he is so utterly clingy. and at first it's perfectly fine, even appreciated by you. you still love him like crazy of course but it is just overwhelming. he is like a child most of the time, he need you around him and is always accompanying you wherever you go, and he expects you to do the same. he also doesn't believe in "me time" because why would you feel better when you're away from him: (? want to hang out with your friends? what do you need them for: (? he's right there. he is also physically incapable of listening but boy is he good at making up.

toji fushiguro — controlling

he is so controlling omfg. it's usually subtle but sometimes he will outright just say no to things he doesnt like, not caring if you like them. it gets to the point where he actually starts to change your personality. he is very caring and that's his justification for this typa stuff. it is usually harmless stuff but he gets paranoid often. he doesnt let you wear miniskirts out if you're not with him. he doesn't let you befriend people he thinks are into you. he barely lets you buy stuff on your own, he usually gifts you whatever it is youre into at that moment. borderline turned on by fear and you being dependent on him.

choso kamo — has no social life outside you

pretty self explanatory. he doesnt have many friends outside you and isn't interesting in making them either. total loser. so taking him out to events, he probably doesnt interact much and chooses to look at you the entire time, which annoys your friends. he answers their questions pretty bluntly. he's never down to have people over and lowkey hates when you are.

hiromi higuruma — workaholic

also self explanatory. he leaves early, comes home late. you barely see him on the weekdays. sometimes he goes as far as ignoring your calls when in between cases. he calls you periodically but has to have an alarm set to remind him. he loves you very very deeply but is just used to working non stop T_T

[chleem]

hey if ur taking requests can u do one where rafe is being distant and reader thinks hes cheating but he reassures her that hes not

thank you!

bf!rafe x gf!reader

⋆.˚ Warnings: swearing, verbal fight (read at own caution

word count: 3.4k

Rafe was obsessed. 

With you? No, no. 

With his phone. 

You started noticing two weeks ago, when he’d have one hand around you, another one on his phone. 

It was subtle at first, the way he’d flick his thumb across the screen in between kisses, but now? Now it was a constant. Even when you were sitting together in silence, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm, his eyes would flick down to his device.

During dinner, he would excuse himself for ‘phone calls’. And when you tried to engage in conversation with him, he would answer vaguely. Sometimes, not even bothering to say. 

But during sex? Oh, it was horrible. It took him longer than usual to cum, and when he did, his eyes were glazed, his focus still drifting somewhere else. Rafe would still take care of you, but it was clear that he wasn’t…really here. 

Time spent together was less, to the point where the past week, only late at night, when the soft ruffle of the bedsheets, told you Rafe was home. You hadn’t even realized how bad it had gotten until you started counting the days since you’d last had a real conversation.

At first, you told yourself it was nothing. Rafe was probably just dealing with some work or a friend needing him, but the longer it went on, the more you couldn’t shake the feeling. 

You'd catch him looking at his phone screen with strange intensity, as though he was hiding something.

The thought gnawed at you. 

He’s cheating, he’s cheating, he’s cheating. 

You hated how your mind immediately connects to that- feeling guilty, nervous, and embarrassed. 

You wanted him obsessed with you again, not that damn device.

You wanted him to look at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered. 

The thought made your stomach churn. It was bratty, childish even, but it was how it had always been with Rafe. You had always been the one to pull him in, the one who had his focus. You loved it. Hell, you craved it.

But now? You felt like you were chasing him. The one who used to make him drop everything for a kiss, a touch, a laugh. Now, it seemed like it was all work or whatever else kept his attention hostage, and you were just another part of the scenery.

You hated how vulnerable it made you feel, like some insecure, jealous person, but it was hard not to think the worst when he acted like you weren’t even in the same room as him half the time.

You hated it.

But even as those thoughts consumed you, you wanted to scream at yourself to snap out of it. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it’s all in your head. But the uncertainty gnawed at you, and you just couldn’t- wouldn’t ignore it anymore.

And tonight, it was the final straw. 

You and Rafe had finally went out, together at another one of those parties. 

The whole night, it was the same thing. 

When he had his arm around you, his other hand was glued to that phone. And then there were the moments when he slipped away to talk with her, if you went to the bathroom or bar. 

You’d come back to see him engaged in conversation with her, laughing and nodding along at what she was saying. He seemed so... invested.

Fuck.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. The frustration, the jealousy- it all boiled over. It was almost like being overstimulated- by the loud party, the people, and Rafe. 

You pulled at his sleeve, your voice catching a bit, “Rafe?”

He immediately shuts up with her, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious- or maybe annoyed- when he looks down at you.

“I wanna go home,” you say, an hour into the night.

Rafe stares at you for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. But before he can say anything, you turn, your back already to him, heading toward the door.

He has to be following you. 

Or you’ll never forgive him.

As soon as you step outside, the cool night air hitting your skin, you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Rafe’s there, fast. By the time you reach the passenger door of the car, he’s already standing beside it, his hand on the handle, opening it for you.

You glance at him briefly, but he’s not even looking at you. His eyes are trained on something distant, his jaw clenched tight. 

You slide into the car, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

The car is quiet for a few seconds. Too quiet. 

And then, finally, Rafe gets in the driver’s seat, the leather creaking beneath him. 

The moment he closes the door, the car fills with his scent- cologne and the lingering trace of alcohol. It’s oddly comforting. 

He doesn’t start the car right away. Instead, you can feel him shifting in his seat, like he’s debating whether or not to speak.

You keep your eyes on the dashboard, crossing your arms. 

He decides against breaking the silence. Instead, he slowly pulls out of the parking spot, the car moving steadily down the street.

As he drives, Rafe’s hand slides down toward your thigh, the ring cold against your skin.

Your body tenses. You move your legs further to the other side, creating distance between you, trying to avoid the touch, but his fingertips still barely brush against your skin. 

From the corner of your eye, he tilts his head slightly over at you, glancing. 

Rafe then pulls your thigh back over, his digits digging into your flesh, lightly, almost like a warning. 

You try again, tilting your legs away from him. 

But this time, Rafe holds you down with enough force that you can’t move, his grip on your thigh firm, keeping you in place. 

Frustrated, you use your hands to pry his fingers off one by one.

The car stops at a red light, and Rafe’s hands leave the steering wheel, quickly grabbing your wrist. “Stop- what are you doing?”

“Get your hands off me,” you snap, brows furrowing as you try to escape his grip. 

The car shakes as you move, and Rafe licks his lips, his brows furrowed as he watches you, “Shit- ”

He wasn’t even holding onto you that hard, because you escape his touch easily.

You cross your arms again, turning to look out the car window. Through the reflection, you catch his dumbfounded expression. 

Rafe pokes his tongue against his cheek, “I- I can’t even touch you?”

You stay silent, not responding.

“Something wrong?” he asks. 

Still, you don’t answer.

He pokes the side of your waist, causing you to flinch, but you don’t turn around.

“Babe,” he calls out. 

No response. 

“Hey- answer me,” he demands, his fingertips grazing over your shoulder. 

He pauses for a moment, his voice dropping, “You sure you wanna ignore me?”

When even his semi-threat doesn’t get you to budge, he scoffs, shaking his head. His hand grips the steering wheel tighter as he turns back to the front, the other resting on the center console. 

The light turns green; and Rafe drives fast, the sudden acceleration nearly knocking you out of your seat.

“Rafe!” you shout, your voice a mixture of frustration and panic.

He doesn’t immediately respond, his eyes focused on the road, his arm veins popping out as he grips on the wheel tightly. 

His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead, but he still doesn’t speak.

You swallow hard, gripping the seatbelt tighter, heart pounding in your chest. You can feel your stomach twist in knots from not only the car speed, but Rafe. 

“Stop- you’re making me sick,” you manage to gasp, your hand reaching out to grip his shirt, the words tumbling out in a frantic rush as the car speeds through the streets.

He doesn't immediately acknowledge you.

But as the car jerks slightly from the corner, Rafe finally slows down and stops at the next red light.

The silence that follows is deafening. 

His hands are still clutching the wheel, his body rigid, but you can feel the frustration radiating off him.

You swallow again, trying to steady your breathing, but the knot in your stomach only tightens.

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, head stinging. “you jerk,” you snap, shoving his shoulder as you lean back into the seat, hands instinctively pressing to your chest, trying to calm down.

“Don’t- don’t ignore me,” he mumbles, as the car moves again, slower this time (the normal pace). 

“‘Don’t ignore me’?” you couldn’t even hide the disgust and anger in your voice.

Rafe’s the one who's been distant with you these past weeks, and now he has the audacity to ask you not to ignore him, when all you did was refuse his touch? Fucking bitch. 

You watch his jaw tick as he pulls into the familiar setting of the Cameron estate, and you can’t- won’t hold it in anymore. 

You’ve pushed the thought to the back of your mind for weeks, but seeing him with that girl tonight… it all resurfaces.

“I- I can’t do this anymore, Rafe.” 

The car comes to an abrupt stop, and he turns his head over to you. 

"What?" He asks, confusion written all over him. 

You don’t give him the chance. Before he can say anything else, you throw the door open and climb out of the car, slamming it shut. 

You don’t wait for him to follow you, your steps quick and purposeful as you move toward the front door, every step making your heart feel heavier.

“Hey-“ you hear the car door open, Rafe’s voice echoing through the place. 

You don’t turn around. Instead, you crouch down to one of the plant pots near the door, your hands fumbling for the keys. 

“Hey, what- what the hell is that supposed to mean, huh?”

The moment your hand makes contact with the keys, you stand up, but Rafe’s already there, standing beside you. His presence feels heavy, dark, and looming as he towers over you.

“Answer me, y/n,” he demands, his voice low and strained. “What- what are you-”

“It means we’re over!” You scream right into his face, right at the blue eyes you once found comfort and love in, only now they felt like nothing but a reminder of how you’d been ignored and hurt.

Without waiting for a response, you unlock the front door, pushing it open and stepping inside. 

“Fuck- why? Hey- I’m talking to you-“

Rafe’s voice follows as your feet carry you faster into the shared bedroom, the urgency in your steps matching the storm inside you.

He’s right behind you, his footsteps heavy, but you don’t slow down. You rush into the closet, standing on your tiptoes to grab your empty luggage, your hands trembling as you pull it out.

“Tell me- tell me y/n, why? What- did I do something wrong?"

You nudge past him, dropping the luggage carelessly on the bed. You move past him again, grabbing your clothes, trying to ignore the weight of his presence.

But as you attempt to walk by him once more, Rafe grabs your wrists harshly, the force so intense that it stops you dead in your tracks.

Your eyes widen, staring up at him, feeling his grip tighten. 

He glares down at you, his expression filled with something darker- a look you’ve seen him use on the Pogues right before a fight breaks out. 

“Fuck- look at me when I'm talking to you," he snaps. 

Your breath hitches, and for the first time, you're actually scared of Rafe—scared of what he could do to you. The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach drop.

Rafe must have sensed the shift in you because, just as quickly as he grabbed you, his blue eyes soften. He swallows, his grip loosening, and his hands drop from your wrists. He leans against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on you, almost pleading, as if silently asking you not to breeze past him.

“Talk, talk to me, babe.”

You bite down on your lip, fidgeting on your feet as you think of your next words. 

But there was no better way to rephrase them, really. 

“…Are you cheating on me?” 

You start, your voice shaking slightly. His brows furrow deeper, “hmm? Be honest with me, Rafe. Who are you seeing other than me?”

“‘Cheating’?” 

he repeats, like the word itself is foreign to him. 

“Yeah- you are, aren’t you?”

He shakes his head, a quick, sharp motion. “No- no.”

He stands up straight, towering over you now. “Where- where would you get that? Why would you-”

“I don’t know!”

“I would never-”

“I just-” 

“I would never cheat on you, y/n.”

His tone is final, laced with a certainty that makes your chest tighten. The blue in his eyes doesn’t waver, holding yours with an intensity that almost dares you to doubt him.

He leans in, a hand going to play with the waistband of your pants.

"Where did you get that thought- into that, that pretty mind of yours?" a teasing edge creeping in his voice as he tilts his head slightly, eyes studying your face. 

You shrug, bringing your own hand up and playing with his ring. “Well- you’ve been ignoring me.”

His hand stops playing with the button, fingers freezing mid-motion. His eyes narrow slightly, the teasing disappearing from his voice. “I have?” he asks, trying to gauge if you’re serious or just playing.

You nod slowly, looking away for a moment, but your fingers still toy with the ring on his hand, the metal cool against your skin. "Yeah. It’s like I’m not even here sometimes.”

He takes in a sharp breath, his gaze softening as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand. “...I’m sorry.”

You didn’t expect him to apologize so soon, or even at all. Rafe was stubborn- he didn’t like being called out or criticized. Fights with him usually ended with him gently coaxing you to forgive him, without ever actually saying sorry. 

Yet here he is.

You blink, his apology settling on your chest. It feels... strange. Almost too simple, yet so unexpected.

"Wow," you breathe out.

"What?" His gaze flickers to your lips, a hint of curiosity in his expression.

"You never say that.”

"Say what?"

“Sorry."

"What?" He laughs, the sound deep and throaty, “I- I do.”

"No, you don’t."

"Well, I just said it.”

"Yeah. And- why?”

He pauses, his laughter fading into something quieter. For a second, he doesn’t speak. Then he looks at you, his eyes darker now, not playful but serious. 

“...Because I don’t want you thinking that.”

"Thinking what?”

“… think that I’m cheating on you."

Your mind circles back to the girl at the party, and all the time he spent on his phone, his attention so distracted.

"...Tell me about that girl," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as his finger gently ghosts over your belly button, the warmth of his touch at odds with the cool uncertainty creeping up inside you.

"...What girl?" His blue eyes hold your gaze, unwavering. 

"That girl- at the party.”

He tilts his head slightly, the tension in his jaw tightening. 

"Her?" he asks, a strange light in his eyes. He bites his bottom lip, clearly choosing his words carefully. "No one.”

"'No one'?" You raise an eyebrow, heart thumping in your chest as you stare at him. "But you talked to her a lot.”

"She's no one," he repeats, but there’s something in his tone that doesn’t quite convince you.

"Rafe." Your voice is softer now, almost pleading. "Who is she?"

He exhales, his chest rising and falling with the motion. "Not important.”

"...How do you expect me to believe you're not cheating when you won’t even tell me, hmm? Is she the one you're texting so much?”

His eyes narrow slightly. Then, out of nowhere, a smirk creeps up on his lips, his expression shifting into something more teasing, almost mocking.

"What, you jealous?”

You freeze, your stomach dropping at the sudden shift in his attitude. “...Are you serious right now, Rafe?”

“My baby’s jealous,” he murmurs instead, his hand coming up to brush your hair off your shoulders. He laughs lightly, but the sound only serves to make your frustration grow.

You roll your eyes, trying to walk past him, but before you can make it very far, he catches your forearm just in time, pulling you back to him.

 The smirk is still there, but now there’s a new depth in his eyes- something more serious, almost challenging.

“You, you really wanna know?” he asks.

“...Yes."

He steps closer, his fingers tightening around your arm just enough to remind you of his presence. His eyes don’t leave yours, dark and intense. “You sure? You wanna know what I’m planning?”

"Yes, Rafe.”

He exhales slowly, almost as if he’s debating whether to let you in or not. 

Finally, his lips curve into something softer, though still playful. “...it’s for your birthday.”

Your expression relaxes as the words sink in. Your birthday. 

You hadn’t even thought about it, too consumed with the feeling of being ignored and deprived of his attention. All the stress, the jealousy, and the uncertainty had clouded your mind, and now, as the truth hits you, it feels like a weight lifting off your chest.

Your heart flutters at the thought that he’s been planning something special for you all along.

“That girl- she’s a party planner, I guess. I- I don’t really know,” Rafe scratches his head, “Been texting her just to get details... plus, got a new deal going on, so- “

You’re barely hearing the rest of his words as your mind races. Stupid girl. You had let your own insecurities twist everything. 

You’d thought the worst, thinking he would cheat. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t dare.

This moment- it was a reminder of just how much he loved you, even if he didn’t always show it. 

Rafe, with his walls built high, was the type to be completely absorbed in one thing at a time. He could be consumed by his work or something else, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent. It didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that when he was with you, his attention was fully yours, even if it didn’t always come in the ways you expected.

Rafe’s words start to blur, but you step closer to him, your hands resting gently on his chest as he looks down at you, still explaining, oblivious to the shift in your thoughts.

“Thank you,” you say, once he stops, a smile tugging at your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

He smiles down at you, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist.

“Why?” he asks, a playful curiosity in his voice.

“Thank you for planning my birthday," you murmur, "and also... sorry- for thinking you’re cheating.”

Rafe’s smile falters just slightly, his fingers tightening around you as he pulls you closer. “No- I- it’s all my fault.

You tilt your head up, meeting his gaze. “...Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

He blinks, a bit confused at first. “That it’s all my fault?”

“No,” you say softly, “say that you’re sorry.”

There’s a pause, and he exhales as if he’s still processing, then finally says, “...I’m sorry.”

You smile at how the words roll off his tongue, a softness in his voice that you don’t hear often. It’s a rare vulnerability, and somehow, it feels like everything is just as it should be.

You and Rafe spend a few seconds simply staring into each other’s eyes. The world outside seems to fade away.

And then, with a sudden smirk, he adds, “You ruined the surprise.”

Your eyes widen, a small laugh escaping your lips as you pull back slightly.

“Well, would you rather lose a girlfriend instead?”

“C’mon…y’know you’re enough to keep me busy anyways,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin. 

Rafe laughs, the sound deep and amused, and you tap his chest playfully. 

“Shut up, Rafe.”

And as you both stand there, the moment feeling light and easy, you can’t help but smile at how everything’s falling into place.

It’s funny how, sometimes, the things you feared the most turn out to be nothing but misunderstandings. And with Rafe, despite his occasional stubbornness, he always manages to find his way back to you.

-------------------------------

corny but I LOVE IT

also, learned how to do the 'keep reading' tabs is it better now

elevator | other

[jinxificada]

reserved affection

jinx x fem!reader

summary: while jinx deemed to be careless and independent, your devotion breaks down the walls.

notes: nsfw, mdni, wc 1,4k. SO apparently alot of u are pathetic needy losers like me since u liked that blurb sm i thought of writing it a bit more extensive heh. enjoy.

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

her heavy steps echoed through the dark hallway, leading you to her hideout. you carry a big box of mechanical tools and pieces for her work as she grunts and complains under her breath.

she just left a meeting with silco and sevika, you weren’t allowed to be present but you still could hear the commotion from the outside. apparently, jinx made the tiny mistake of leaving a door unlocked in one of the shimmer factories, permitting a couple of addicts to get in there and steal very few rations. it could’ve been worse, that’s why she was scolded.

jinx was reckless, impulsive and a bit messy. but it wasn’t usual for her to make big mistakes, and if she did, she can take care of them just fine. you prefer not making a big deal out of them, specially because she got very sensitive after these situations.

she almost slammed the door closed on your face, well, she did, but your own feet stopped it. struggling, you followed her inside and rushed to leave her stuff. jinx was talking to herself, to the voices. you sighed and carefully approached her.

“jinx…” you called, your voice soft as well as your touch, though she still flinched when your hands reached for her shoulders from behind. “don’t worry about it, nothing major happened.”

“still—“ she huffed, not pulling away but neither reciprocating your affection as her own hands were busy gripping her own hair. “it was a mistake, the door— i forgot the lock and— shut it! he talked to me with that tone, sevika was there!”

“she dealt with it, forget it, it’s in the past now.” you tried again, walking to stand in front of her and gently take her hands, making her frown at you.

“you don’t get it, you never will.” she harshly said, “if i keep making mistakes he won’t let me go anywhere, i want to participate! i’m useful!”

“of course you are!”

she huffed again, skeptical. “you’re just saying that.”

that made you pout, even after years of devotion, she still doubted your words?

if someone knew jinx, it was you. having met her in the peak of y’all teenage years gave you the perfect panorama of her person. at first she was just a cool looking girl for you, someone who could bring a thrill to your depressing, boring life.

it was hard getting close to her, to convince her that you weren’t a threat and to break down her walls to know her story and see some vulnerability. in jinx’s defense it was an accident, you caught her guard down. and then, when you didn’t leave nor use any information against her or her father’s business, she kept you around.

in the end you were just a puppy following her around, you were just happy to be there for her. even though she treated you, well, like shit. but sometimes, you noticed she grew fond of you. she started to need you, your reassurance and your desinterested affection.

you showed a loyalty rare to find in zaun, and she appreciated it deeply.

“i’m serious,” you whined, fixing her disheveled hair and rubbing her cheeks. “you’re super smart, the cause will be lost if you don’t participate. silco needs you.”

your words combined with the soft caresses only fluttered her heart. warmth creeped up her chest and she pushed you away before you could notice her blush, walking to her work table to pretend being busy with something.

you don’t hesitate to follow, sticking to her back to hug her by the waist. “you’re perfect~” you hum, moving her braid to hide your face on her neck.

“you’re annoying…” she muttered back. jinx found it hard to push you away, she got scared the first time she felt comforted in your arms, breaking any chance of intimacy with sudden attitude towards you. but that was long ago, now she couldn’t help herself. she turned around with another murmur, “don’t leave a mark.” she warned, tangling her fingers in your hair to keep you close and try to guide your kisses. you were successful to distract her today.

“i won’t, i promise.” you shamelessly lie as you keep savoring her neck.

you wanted it to last forever. forcing your weight against her as soon as she lets you touch her. you gripped her waist, eagerly kissing and biting her pale skin.

“mhm, you taste so good…” you groan in delight, listening to her breath quickening and the quiet gasps.

“s-shut up.” she let you push her against her work table behind her, leaning her head back to give me even more space. “you’re smitten, hm—“

“f’course i am.”

there’s no shame in your voice, just pure devotion. you wanted her, you needed her. like air to breathe, you wanted to consume her.

her little puffs of breath only encouraged you to keep going. your lips smooched her neck and clavicle, urgently pulling at her top in an attempt to take it off.

“fuck—!” she huffed, obviously feigning annoyance again as she eagerly maneuvered to pull it off, exposing her chest for you. you moaned in unison when you took her nipple between your lips, you don’t lose a second to dig into her small breasts and worship every inch.

“lemme taste you, please,” you begged, “please please let me.”

“d’you deserve it, though?” she smirked, trying to control her quiet pants. you could only whine, rubbing your nose on her neck again as you hug her tightly, maybe this way she’ll soften up. “please, please, please.” you muffled pathetically.

you gasp when she pulled your head back from your hair, taking your lips in a deep, wet kiss. her tongue took control and you felt like melting.

you’ve kissed her many times, always needy and softly. she usually kisses back lazily, letting you have your way with her as if in obligation when in reality she craved the contact. but this was different, from the second she initiated it, she moved her lips fervently against your, forcing her tongue into your mouth.

and you easily submit, humming softly while you squeeze her bare waist in your hands. jinx surprised you again when she takes you to the old couch, pushing the couple of plushies and pillows to the floor to lead your back on the surface.

“oh— jinx?” you sighed, both eager and expectant to see what was she doing. you were about to look away when she stripped of her bottoms, but you found yourself hypnotized by her naked body.

“you wanted to taste me, baby?”

you sighed again, gazing at her with wide eyes as she accommodated herself on top of your stomach, “yeah.” you nodded, biting your lower lip in anticipation when she moved again to straddle your head, promptly about to sit on your face.

she doesn’t have to say anything else because you’re already sticking your tongue out, even raising your neck a little to finally reach her pussy. she was already wet, her silk folds opened easily as you mouth started to work for her pleasure. what a treat, you thought.

it wasn’t long before jinx squirmed on top of you, trembling and breathless moans echoed in the room as she rode your face with a neediness you’ve never seen from her. your hands tried to grip on her thighs to try and maintain a pace, but she was impatient and controlling. she looked down at you with a scrunched face, ready to complain, but the sight of your mesmerized eyes and the feeling of you tongue lapping and circling on her clit greedily…

her thighs trembled against your head, squeezing you tightly but you didn’t mind, doing your best to hold her to keep her from falling off, you kept working on her pussy as she lazily grinds down on you until it felt too much.

you almost whine when she pulled away, making space for her to drop on the couch next to you. you reached for her own underwear to clean the mess in between her legs, wishing she let you do it with your mouth again.

“feeling okay?” you softly murmured, seeing her twitch every once in a while in aftershock, jinx was extremely sensitive after the intensity of her orgasm.

“m’fine.” she whispered, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. she leaned her body to your chest and you don’t hesitate to cuddle her, moving her body to half sit on you for comfort. lovingly, you pepper her face with kisses, “dumbass,” she tried to keep up the cold façade, but it was useless. her soft smile gave her away, she enjoyed your affection and she craved it.

good thing you had tones to offer her.

[thomaslittlegirl]

Hi love!

you could write something about Tommy where they are a bit possessive of the reader but a non-toxic sweet possessive type that is all the time saying 'my wife' every time he says her name he makes sure to say that she is his wife🥹 If you could put a little bit of jealousy where maybe someone sees her too much and he makes sure to move his hand down a little further than her back so they know she's definitely his wife🙂‍↕️

And the reader is SO proud to be his wife! She even leaves him a kiss on the tip of his nose and he turns red and tight because well it's Tommy '😤'

Sorry I have cramps these days and I just want something sweet🥺🥺♥️♥️Please take it only if you are comfortable, I send you love!🫂

ps. I love your work, you are amazing at this!🫶🏻

i hope your cramps go away! also hope you like this. sending you love back 🫶🏻🩷

his wife. thomas shelby

warnings; jealous thomas, michael wants u lol

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

everyone who knew you, knew that you were thomas's wife, because that's how he introduced you: "y/n, my wife."

on your finger lays a beautiful golden ring, a promise that you would soon become his property forever… it's not like you weren't already; you belong to shelby from the moment he laid his eyes on you and worked hard to conquer you. the ring was simply a promise to make it official.

you two were engaged, but he already presented you to everyone as his beautiful wife.

sometimes you even thought you might forget your own name since everyone called you "shelby's girl."

the gypsy was proud that everyone knew their place well. no man who wanted to keep his eyes spent more than five seconds looking at you, not if they truly valued their lives.

there were many bad men outside, many dangerous people who would not hesitate to hurt you to get to him... that's why he was always watching you, keeping you close where his eyes could see you.

everyone knew their places, except for someone: his damn cousin.

michael was centimeters from your body, making some jokes that he couldn't hear due to the distance in which he was from the two of you, but jokes that made you laugh out loud.

his hand clenched tightly around his glass of whiskey, watching the exchange of laughter between the two of you.

no one at the party had noticed his anger, except arthur. his brother looked at him seriously, giving him a nod, showing him that he also understood what was happening.

he thought it was enough.

thomas slammed the glass hard on the table and seriously addressed you, the music ringing in his ears with annoyance.

as soon as he reached you, his hand went to your hip. "doll." he said, squeezing the skin that your dress hid. "michael." he greeted his cousin too.

"cousin." gray greeted, making a grimace with his mouth that imitated a smile.

"is something wrong, love?" your sweet and naive voice reaches his ears and made his serious gaze finally detach from his relative and address you.

"no. just wanted to be close to my wife." he responded, smiling at you for a second before turning completely serious again and looking back at michael.

the youngest noticed how thomas's hand on your hip went down to your ass and stayed there, holding his palm firmly against you.

"you should go, michael." shelby spoke again. "gina was looking for you." his eyes and hard expression told gray everything he needed to understand, and the boy looked into his eyes for a moment before nodding.

"see you, mrs shelby." he murmured in a tone of voice that you couldn't understand but thomas did. he fucking did understand.

when you were both finally alone, you turned to look at thomas with a smile, totally naive and oblivious to everything that was happening.

his blue eyes looked at you fondly, with desire. you couldn't help but leave a small kiss on his nose, watching him smirk.

"my wife." your fiancé uttered, giving you a squeeze. "i can't wait for everyone to leave so i can have my doll all to myself."

[edamameimei]

i was very close (daniela avanzini x reader)

"i have a feeling you got everything you wanted and you're not wasting time stuck here like me."

synopsis: after receiving a phone call from you out of the blue, daniela gets a feeling that you arent okay. feat: winter from aespa, soobin and yeonjun from txt tags: so much angst i'm sorry. it's kind of a happy ending if you squint? this is part two of everything you wanted so if u haven't read that one, pls do! childhood bestfriends au. an: just want to put out there that this is not a REAL portrayal of the people mentioned in this fic. all events are fictional and are for entertainment purposes only. CW: character death, kissing, a lil suggestive scene in the middle so mdni, swearing wc: 3947 words

⏯ now playing: we hug now - sydney rose

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

The silence is painful. It almost tears Daniela apart. Your friends on the other end of the phone look at each other with wide eyes. The worry in Daniela’s voice overwhelms them because they aren’t you. It will never be you again on the other side of this phone. 

“Y/n?”

“Y/n!” 

You pick your head up from the table, startled. You look up to see Daniela looking at you with a worried expression. You smile sleepily, covering her hand with your own. You squeeze it trying to ease her worries. You yawn, shaking your head. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t get much sleep last night…” Daniela frowns at your words, placing a hand on your back and rubs it gently. She knows how often you study. It’s what you’re always doing when you’re not spending time with her. It worries Daniela, especially around the time of final exams. You work yourself to death sometimes and she wishes you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself. 

But with your parents, she knows it’s impossible. 

Daniela has only met your parents three or four times since meeting you in 7th grade. Now, she’s a junior in high school, and even though she has had minimal interaction with your parents, she has decided to dislike them strongly. When they would call you in the middle of your hangouts, Daniela would hear them say awful things to you—things you should never say to your own child. After the phone call ends, you would sit there, regaining your composure. You would look at Daniela and smile as if nothing happened. 

But Daniela always saw right through you. 

She leans down and kisses the top of your head, running her hand through your hair. “Wanna come over? My mom is making your favorite…” You light up at her words, immediately sitting up. Your excitement causes the Latina to giggle, extending her hands to you. You grab them, allowing her to pull you up from your seat. When you’re on your feet, you lean in, kissing her sweetly. She smiles into the kiss, wrapping her arms around your neck. 

She pulls away, resting her forehead against yours. She teases, “I wish you were that excited about hanging out with me.” You roll your eyes at her frown, pecking her lips to remove it. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close, smiling widely. You whisper, “I am always excited about hanging out with you, sunshine.” 

Since Daniela received that phone call from you, she hasn’t been able to think about anything else. 

You remained silent on the other end and it worried Daniela. There was a pit in her stomach, sensing something was wrong. It had been years since her last conversation with you, and suddenly you were calling? Her worries worsened when you abruptly hung up, not saying a word. She stared at her phone and debated calling you back but decided against it. She told herself you must have called her by accident. 

It has been three days since that call and Daniela feels like she’s going crazy. 

Her members have noticed her lack of focus during practice. It has come to a point where their choreographer tells Daniela to take a break, that if she can’t leave her personal life outside the practice room, then don’t come at all. She feels terrible for not being able to bring her best, but she can’t ignore the festering anxiety she gets every time she thinks about the possibility of you not being okay. She lies in bed, staring at her phone, willing it to light up with your name. She stares at it until she falls asleep, only to be woken up by Manon an hour later. She turns over, looking up to see Manon staring at her with concern in her eyes. She sits down on Daniela’s bed, rubbing her back comfortingly. “What’s going on, Dani?” 

Daniela looks away, biting her lip. She debates if she should confide in her members about her current mental battle. They were there during the difficult period where the Latina wasn’t sure about the future of her relationship with you. They were on the other side of the door while she made the phone call, witnessing the hardest day for Daniela during their pre-debut era. But, the thought of talking about you again made her chest squeeze uncomfortably. She told herself that those days with you were over. You both were living completely different lives, becoming completely different people. She assumes you’re still on your path to become a doctor, to become something like your parents but better. 

But every once in a while, she will see your favorite flowers start blooming during the spring time. She’ll play your favorite song from high school during warm-ups. Sometimes, she’ll wear your Emory sweater to bed (but she reasons it’s because she had no other comfy sweaters). In her dreams some nights, you two meet for coffee. You’d tell her about college, how you’re struggling to study for the MCAT, and how ever since you two stopped talking, you haven’t been able to fall in love with anyone else. She’d tell you about her debut, how it’s everything she has ever dreamed about. She’d ask you if you’re proud, if she’s been doing well. 

That’s when she wakes up, never getting her answer. 

She looks at Manon, her eyes full of sadness. Her voice breaks as she whispers, “Y/n called me three days ago and I am literally crashing the fuck out over it.” 

You lay in Daniela’s bed, reading another chapter from your textbook. She sits next to you typing away on her laptop. You look over, glancing at what she’s working on. Daniela is once again researching entertainment agencies and researching auditions around the country. You watch Daniela’s face fall every time she checks her emails, not getting responses from previous companies. You know how important this is to the younger girl. You’ve been with her through all the auditions, you’d help her film every one of her dance videos that she had to submit. But she has yet to get anything positive back.

You can tell a part of her is wanting to give up. 

She sighs, closing her laptop. She lays down next to you, placing her head on your chest. She reaches over and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together. You bring her hand up to your lips, kissing it softly. You murmur against her skin, “Anywhere would be lucky to have you.” She smiles, looking up at you. “You’re just saying that.” You scoff at her words. You let go of her hand and wrap your arms around her, kissing her forehead. “I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve seen what you can do and I know you’re gonna make it big one day…” 

Daniela stays silent at your words, only hugging your body tightly. She listens to your heartbeat as if it were her favorite sound. Your laugh coming at a close second. Daniela closes her eyes, feeling comfort in your presence. Sometimes she wishes you weren’t so far away. Being a senior wasn’t all that bad– she had nothing to complain about. But ever since you went away to go to Emory, the Latina couldn’t help but feel a bit lost when she wanders the halls. She has gotten used to having her hand in yours, complaining about mundane things. Her eyes always search for you in the bleachers during practice, a habit she has formed after all these years that she seemingly can’t shake away. 

Daniela sits up suddenly and your eyes widen, worried she may have become upset. However, she gets on top of you, straddling your waist. She places her hands on your shoulders and leans closer to your face, her lips inches away. The Latina looks deeply into your eyes and you almost look away, feeling shy. However, you hold her gaze, cupping her cheeks with your hands. You whisper, “I love you.” Her breath hitches at your words. You both have said those words to each other a million times by now, but this felt different. It made Daniela feel she was exactly where she needed to be.

She kisses you like her life depended on it. Her hold on your shoulders tightens as she deepens the kiss, needing to show you– prove to you, that none of those other things matter. The only thing she wants more in this world is to be seen by you, to be loved by you. She wants you to know you belong to her and she belongs to you. It’s as if you read her mind because your hands move from her cheeks. She shivers as she feels your fingertips slide down her arms. Your hands slide under her shirt and she feels their warmth on her bare skin. She pulls away and looks at you, her eyes full of need. 

She whispers, breathless, “I love you too.” 

The girls get deja vu when they stand outside Manon and Daniela’s room, waiting for Daniela to finish calling you. After revealing what happened, Daniela finds herself being comforted by her members. They knew how much Daniela loved you and wanted more than anything for the girl to find a way to make the relationship work. However, Dream Academy quickly consumed their lives. They had to make sacrifices of their own, but it certainly wasn’t to the same degree as Daniela’s. 

Inside the room, Daniela sits on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. It’s Lara who convinces her to take the leap of faith. The younger girl tells her to follow her heart– if her instincts tell her to reach out, she should listen. The Latina takes a deep breath, pressing the ‘call’ button on your name. She lets it ring, hoping you’ll pick up eventually. However, she gets nothing. The silence in her room comes back uncomfortably. 

She feels tears beginning to brim her eyes as she attempts to call again. The need to hear your voice became stronger with every ring. When it goes to voicemail again, Daniela doesn’t wait another second before trying again. She doesn’t care how desperate she seems. She just wants to make sure you’re at least okay. She wants to know you’re doing well. She wants to know all the things she has missed out on. 

Finally, she gets an answer after her fifth attempt. She wipes her eyes, her voice breaking as she speaks, “Y/n. I’m sorry. I know this is really stupid but–” 

“This isn’t Y/n.” Daniela freezes when she hears the unfamiliar voice on the other end. She looks at her phone screen to see if she called the right person. She brings it back to her ear, her brows furrowing. “But… This is Y/n’s number, right?” There’s a brief silence on the other end. Daniela hears the person sigh, responding, “Yeah… It is.” 

Daniela feels her stomach drop. She wonders if the person she was talking to was a new partner. She feels her lip trembling when she thinks about you falling in love with someone else. Daniela knows she shouldn’t be upset if that were the case, considering she broke up with you. But it still hurts. She thinks about ending the call before she makes a complete fool of herself. However, the person speaks again, their voice shaking slightly, “This is Daniela, right?” The Latina bites her lip. She doesn’t know who she’s talking to and doesn’t know what their relationship is with you. However, any rational thoughts leave her mind as she answers quickly, “Yeah. That’s me.” 

The person takes a deep breath, obviously struggling to find a response. “Y/n… They got into a really bad accident a few weeks ago and—“ The pit in Daniela’s stomach grows as she sits up, gripping her phone. She cuts them off, “Are you serious? Are they okay?” The person doesn’t respond, remaining silent after hearing her question. Daniela shuts her eyes as she repeats herself, her voice cracking, “They’re okay, right? Tell me they’re okay.” Tears stream down her cheeks as she shakes her head frantically. She doesn’t get a response once more and it angers her. She yells into her phone, “Answer me!” Her knuckles turn white around her device as the seconds pass. 

Finally, she gets a response, their voice quiet. “I’m sorry Daniela… They’re gone.” 

When Daniela finally debuts, she thinks about calling you. 

After hearing the results, and the celebrations were over, she walked outside the building. She pulls out her phone, unlocking it. The first thing she sees is Instagram and her breath catches in her throat when the post at the top of her page is yours from earlier today. It was a slideshow summarizing your fall semester through photos. Her hands shake as she scrolls through them. She sees people she doesn’t recognize, smiling with you. There’s a picture of you working in some sort of lab, safety goggles on as you make a silly face at the camera. It makes Daniela laugh through the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. 

She laughs because it’s ironic. The universe had you two meet only to separate. She feels so fucking bitter because how dare the Earth keep spinning after you two broke up? She expected the whole world to end at this point. But life does keep moving, even if it’s without you. 

She pockets her phone, walking back inside the building. 

katseyeworld: Hello, this is HYBE X GEFFEN. Due to a personal emergency, Daniela Avanzini of KATSEYE will take a break from group activities until further notice. 

You sit in the passenger seat of Winter’s car, scrolling through your phone. You listen as she continues skipping songs on her playlist, chuckling after the tenth one. “Win, just pick one already.” She groans in response, trying to keep her eyes on the road. She has one hand on the steering wheel and the other holds her phone, shuffling through her Spotify. She lights up at one of the songs, finally setting her phone back in her lap. She reaches over, turning up the volume. “Wait. I just got into this group last night. They’re so good and they’re actually so gorgeous.” 

You tune in, familiar with the song. You can’t help the soft smile that forms on your lips as you look out the window. Winter glances at you and speaks excitedly, “Their name is Katseye!”

You daydream, leaning your head against the glass. 

“Yeah. I know.” 

Daniela sits at your kitchen table in your apartment while your friends sit with her. 

It’s weird. Being in your apartment for the first time and not seeing you. 

When Daniela first came in, she looked around, trying to wrap her head around the situation. She looked at all the pictures on your walls, noticing most of them were of you and the three friends that quietly stood by. Her fingers slid over the spines of the books lined on your shelf and smiled when she saw one she gifted to you before you went to Emory. Without thinking, she pulled it out, opening it slowly. She bit her lip when she saw her handwriting on the first page. 

‘First medical book of the many you’re going to read for the next four years! I am so proud of you, Y/n. I am so lucky to be yours. I hope Emory treats you well, but not that well, you’re stuck with me forever <3 - your Sunshine’

Daniela let out a shaky breath, closing the book before putting it back in its spot. 

Now at the table, Yeonjun holds your box full of memories with Daniela. He slowly pushes it toward the girl, smiling sadly. “I think they would be happy with you having this…” She nods, thanking him as she brings the box closer to her. She looks at the lock on it, her brows furrowing in confusion. Winter quickly says,  “The combination is 0701.” Daniela widens her eyes, putting the numbers in. She watches it unlock and her lip begins to tremble. She whispers, “That’s my birthday…” Soobin’s eyes soften at her words. He begins to realize just how important Daniela was to you. He internally berates himself because neither him nor the others had a fucking clue. You were always a private person, but this was a secret they never expected.

They watch as Daniela opens the box. She peers inside and the first thing she spots is the envelope with the two tickets. Your friends hold their breath as they watch her open it. Their hearts begin to ache when they see her cover her mouth, tears forming in her eyes at her discovery. Daniela wasn’t just important to you, you were also important to her. 

Yeonjun looks down at his lap. He says quietly, “We didn’t know you two were together.” Daniela looks up from the tickets, her eyes glisten with tears as she looks at Yeonjun. The boy continues, “But we did know they hated their life here. They always talked about moving to Los Angeles and how everything was there.” Winter turns to Daniela and places her hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. She continues for Yeonjun, “And we never knew what they were talking about… Until we opened the box.” Soobin nods in agreement, smiling at Daniela. The Latina looks at him and notices tears in his eyes. Soobin whispers, “We found out they were talking about you. You were everything.” 

Daniela processes their words, her tears now freely falling. She shakes her head. “But. I hurt them so fucking bad. How does that even make sense?” Winter takes her hand off Daniela’s shoulder, looking down to dig in her pocket. She pulls out an envelope and hands it to the Latina. “We found this at the very bottom of the box… It’s addressed to you. Maybe that can give you some answers.” Daniela takes it, her hands shaking as she opens it. She pulls out the letter and takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst. 

The letter reads: 

Dear sunshine,

When we first met, I only had one goal– to make my parents proud. To follow in their footsteps, be the best god damned doctor this world ever saw. But, after getting to know you and seeing your passion, I realized there’s more to life than being what your parents expect you to be. For the first time, I felt like my own person. You made my life so exciting. You saw through the walls I built for myself and effortlessly took them down. And even after you saw me for who I truly was, you stayed. You stayed and loved me nonetheless. 

In the last letter you ever sent to me, you wrote how you had your dreams and I had mine. And you’re right. I do have my dreams. It’s not what you think though.

You are the dream. To be loved by you. To be seen by you. I don’t care about medical school, my parents, becoming a doctor. None of that matters to me. Loving you is the one real thing I feel good at. Sometimes, on my way home from my internship, I imagine I’m coming home to you. I think about you lying on the couch, asleep because you waited for me all day. I daydream often about meeting you again, bumping into you on a random busy street, and we pick up where we left off. 

I want to be with you, that’s how much I know. I wanted to be with you when I was a junior in high school. I wanted to be with you when I first went to Emory. I wanted to be with you even after we broke up. And I still want to be with you, even after all this time. I feel it in my bones that it’s meant to be us, it just feels right. It makes sense. And that’s why I decided to pack up my bags and move to Los Angeles. I am meant to be wherever you are. I am a fucking genius and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. 

I am so proud of you, Sunshine. You did so well. You always do so well. 

Believe it or not, I watched every single one of your performances on Dream Academy– I voted for you, don’t worry. I saw the live finale and wasn’t surprised when they called your name. I bought so many copies of your first album, there’s a stack somewhere in my closet. I saw it all, even if you couldn’t see me physically there, I was. And I just couldn’t believe how lucky I was to love you the way I did– the way I still do. 

So, like any other great essay or letter, I’ll end it with a quote I saw on the breakup side of TikTok. It said, “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?” “No, but once I was very close.””

So, here I am. And this time, I won’t just be close. I’ll have it.

I hope you’re willing to give this another shot because I’m ready. I’m ready when you are. 

I love you. I will always love you.  

Yours forever, Y/n. 

Daniela covers her mouth, attempting to stifle her sob. Your friends immediately go over to her, wrapping their arms around her as she cries. 

At last, she got her answer. She did well. And you loved her through it all.

In another universe, you get on that plane. You do get everything you ever wanted. 

A couple of days pass in this universe, and Daniela sits quietly on the bleachers you sat on so many times just to see her. She rereads your note and imagines you’re reading it to her, holding her in your arms. She imagines a life where she comes home to you every single night. She thinks about you dancing around the kitchen under the big light. You call her sunshine because that’s how you always saw her, despite the changing seasons. 

Maybe in another universe, it’s not you who tutors her. Maybe, you two never met at all. 

But in this universe, Daniela couldn’t imagine a world where she wouldn’t meet you. She likes to think that in every galaxy, in every life, she would meet you and fall in love all over again. She would do it all over again, even with the same results. 

There’s a universe where you’re alive. And happy. And that’s all there is to it. 

Daniela wipes her tears, smiling softly. She looks up, the sun shining down on her. You loved her well. And she is grateful to know that even after you’ve passed, your love never changed, never diminished. Despite losing you twice, she knows you’re still here. Everywhere she goes, you will be there. You’ll be the rain on her skin, the wind that blows through her hair, the flowers she passes by on her walks. She will hear your laugh in crowds of people and she will always look for you amongst them. She will imagine you standing there after a performance, smiling at her, silently telling her that she did well. Like you always did. And what you will always do. 

She closes her eyes and lets the sun kiss her skin. 

She whispers, “You did well too, sunshine.” 

an: so sorry i couldnt be there to hold ur hands while you read this one LOL but hopefully u liked it despite! i am thinking about writing a part 3 where it's like held in the 'other universe' (u know, where the reader didnt die) but if people want it, it probs wont come as quickly as this did bc i want to work on another megan fic!!!! anywho, lmk what u think and thanks for reading!!!!!

requests are open

[jordiemeow]

Letting dodge let off steam after a long day working at the diner (i feel like such a freak for requesting this but…🤭)

!!!!!! Hell yeah we r freaks in this together. him coming over to see u bc he's so tense after dealing w fuckers like ray all day.... raghhhh

warnings: general smut (p in v), brief mention of using a belt as a restraint, no reader orgasm (tsk tsk), jo thirsting over dodge for 1.5k words

Dodge is always a bit of a whiny baby after a bad shift. Funny, because to everyone else he seems to be so detached—but with you, he can be himself. Sometimes that's more of a curse than a blessing.

That's what you're expecting when his truck pulls up outside your house. Bouncing down the hall to greet him by the door, prepared to feign sympathy and bat your pretty lashes at him until he feels better. You've got the place to yourself tonight, thankfully. No parents. Ah, one look at his sullen face is enough to tell you he's had a rough day. But instead of the long rant you'd mentally prepared yourself for as soon as you caught a glimpse of his truck outside your window, he's kicking the door shut and backing you down the hall.

"Dodge, your shoes—" You start to protest, but he silences you with a kiss. Well, hard to argue when his tongue is already in your mouth and his big, firm hands are squeezing your hips. Thank god you're home alone.

“Doesn’t matter. Need you.”

He breaks free to shrug his jacket off his shoulders. It gets discarded onto the floor of your hallway, and his shirt is next to go as the pair of you stumble blindly through the threshold of your kitchen. He hardly gives you time to ogle the muscled expanse of his chest before his mouth is descending on yours again. There's no method to it, just intent. The intent to devour you, apparently.

Your back hits the marble counter behind you. You cry out at the sharp pain, but the sound is swallowed right into his mouth. He'll have you crying out for other reasons in the next few minutes, no doubt. A heartbeat later and his hands are beneath your own shirt. No time to be wasted, clearly, as he gropes your breasts and groans in satisfaction at the feeling of flesh beneath his palms. No bra? Oh, this is exactly what he needed.

"Perfect fuckin' tits," he mumbles, the words slurred into your mouth. He presses you harder into the surface; the pain is hardly a dull throb when you're so aroused.

"What's gotten into you?" You ask breathlessly as one of his hand snakes down beneath your waistband. Fingers find both your clit and a nipple simultaneously, and you jerk forward a little with a pitiful whine. Not that you can move much, mind you, when you're sandwiched between the kitchen counter and the hard planes of his body.

He rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, relishing in the way your back arches towards him as your nipple hardens. "Just a bunch of assholes at the diner."

Awfully vague explanation. Why are men so bad at speaking about anything? You have to concentrate hard to get out a breathless follow-up question. "Yeah? What'd they do?"

"You gonna grill me or just let me fuck you?"

Oh, that really does it for you. You clench around nothing as his fingers tease your clit and nipple. You've never seen him like this, but you're far from complaining.

"Well, I just—" A finger slipping into you cuts you off with a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

"Rhetorical question. You're gonna let me fuck you."

All you can do is nod wordlessly as another finger slides in to work you open. He's back to swallowing up your pathetic little moans again, crooking his fingers against that sweet spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back.

"Wet enough," you hear him mutter to himself, half-spoken against your lips.

"Wha—?" His fingers withdraw and his hand leaves your shirt, and then you're being manhandled around. Panties and underwear yanked down to your knees, cheek pressed into the cold, smooth marble of the counter. He's too impatient to strip you properly.

You can hear the sound of his belt buckle being undone, followed by the unmistakeable zip of his jeans. "Not... not here, Dodge."

He scoffs behind you. Not here? You're home alone, for Christ's sake. And he's fucked you in places much worse than bent over your dad's kitchen counter.

"Don't make me use this," he warns, the cool metal of the buckle pressing against your lower back where your shirt has ridden up. He's joking, you think. Not that you'd be opposed to it in the first place—whether he means wrapped around your wrists or to redden one of your pretty little ass cheeks, you aren't sure. Both?

Another wordless nod. He can't tell whether that's consent for the belt to be used or you just agreeing that you'll stop your whining, but he's too impatient; you can play around another time. Right now he just needs his cock stuffed inside you and his exhausting shift to the back of his mind.

The belt clatters to the floor, and his jeans and boxers drop to his knees. Normally he eases himself into you—he's such a tease when he wants to be, making you beg for each inch and goading you with little comments of "you sure you can take it all?" But now, he presses into you with one snap of his hips.

It punches all of the air out of your lungs. You cry out beautifully at the sudden stretch, fingers curling around the edge of the counter.

"Oh— W-wait, need a second—"

"You can take it, baby." It's the exact opposite of what he normally tells you. You can't tell if he's comforting you or telling you that you will take it, either. He has the grace to give you a few seconds to adjust, but after that he's moving. Deep strokes that have little bitten off moans passing your lips.

"C'mon. Tell me you can take it," he instructs, one hand on your hip and the other in your hair to hold you in place as he ducks down to murmur in your ear. You can feel the pressure of his front against your back, the warmth over your rucked up shirt.

"I can— ngh— yeah, I can take it," you choke out.

That earns you a smack to the ass in approval as he straightens back up. "That's my girl."

He's decidedly not nice about it anymore. Focused entirely on taking out all his frustrations on you, slamming into you with the most obscene sounds imaginable as his skin slaps against yours. He's done with talking—no time for words when your cunt is squeezing him so perfectly.

One of your hands releases the edge of the counter and tries to make its way down beneath you to pay attention to your neglected clit. He catches your wrist, holding it in place before it can stray away from the surface.

"No. This is for me," he grunts. "You just lay there 'n' take it for me."

Well, that's a little mean. But... extremely hot. "O-okay, I can— ah— can do that."

The only way to describe it is him fucking you absolutely senseless. You're practically drooling onto the counter with each rough thrust, babbling senselessly about wanting to take it for him and make him feel better.

All you can hear through your haze is his balls slapping against your ass, the slick sound of him burying himself into your heat, your own desperate mewls and Dodge's grunts of effort. You have no doubt he'll make it up for you later with his head between your thighs after he's cooled off. Hopefully in your bed, and not making a mess of your dad's kitchen.

His other hand moves to push your shirt up a little further, calloused fingers skimming along your spine. A surprisingly gently touch considering the brutal pace he's set, tracing over the spot where you'd hit the benchtop too hard. You'd think it was an apology if it weren't for the little hum of satisfaction he gives.

His grip tightens around the wrist pressed into the hardened limestone, and the occasional stuttering of his hips signifies his oncoming climax. "Wanna cum inside. Can I?" His voice sounds rough, strained.

You just whimper in reply, fingers clenching fruitlessly into a fist. The way you rock back onto him should be an answer in itself, but it doesn't stop him from groaning—

"C'mon. Say it."

You aren't even sure you're capable of speaking right now, voice raw from crying out with each sharp thrust. "If it'll make you feel better," you manage.

"Feeling charitable, sweetheart?" He sounds amused, but the little smirk is wiped right off his face when you clench around him. Yeah, no, he's not lasting any longer at all.

A few more thrusts and he's burying himself to the hilt to spill into you with a ragged groan. "Ah, fuck, take it—" And you do. You take it all with a moan at the warmth filling your cunt, face still pressed into the marble.

The silence that follows is only broken by Dodge's pants of exertion as he comes down from his high. You can't bring yourself to ask him to move, either, even when your cheek is no doubt imprinted and your legs are trembling.

Eventually, though, in a rough voice: "Needed that."

You can't help but smile. "Yeah. I can tell."

You feel a little guilty for thinking it, but you hope he has bad days more often if that's what you get as soon as he's in the door. Maybe he'll let you cum next time, too.

[nnight-dances]

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer. 

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing. 

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision. 

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep." 

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now. 

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat. 

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties. 

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him. 

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to." 

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh. 

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior. 

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours. 

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…? 

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin 

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place 

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :) 

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22 

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you 

bin: …

bin: i love you too

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hello could you write a fic for miles42 having an airhead gf like shes his opposite (kind, always smiling, extroverted but shes a bit blunt) !! for the fic u can do wtv u want tbh !! but if u dont have any inspiration u could do something about her meeting miles42’s mom nd uncle or, him taking his gf on a date or wtv u want bc idk if my ideas are good lmaoo

(Hello! Sure I can and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Opposite!Reader

It's so funny how you guys even ended up getting together

You both obviously clash but oddly work out well together

Even Miles was surprised he ended up with you

"Blink twice if he kidnapped you, kid."

Words of Uncle Aaron the first time he met you

When Uncle Aaron and his mother met you, they probably thought he was gonna be with someone who matched him, probably Emo or at least similar to him

And to their surprise, and his mother's joy

You walked into the door!

His mother thinks your good for Miles, she sees you're able to get him to smile more, he's happier and she sometimes sees specks of Miles before his dad died come back

Even if Miles is surprised at himself he really does love you

He needs someone like you in his life

Walking down the street hand in hand people would never think that you guys were together

Even in photos, you're smiling, it always seems like he has a permanent frown on his face until out come along

It always looks like two completely different photos, but no

He warns you about being kind to everyone though, as he noticed is a habit of yours

Brooklyn isn't safe, everyone knows that and you could get hurt because you're too kind

You're kinda an airhead also

You once followed a man into his house because he said he had cats and she had kittens

Don't worry, the man was a kind and older man but the principle still stands

Miles noticed you're sorta an airhead, not a bad thing but something he looks out for you for

But he truly does love how much you care for him, his mom and even Uncle Aaron

When you guys first met he was a little suspicious

Just because he wasn't used to that in Brooklyn anymore

You were also incredibly blunt

He found it funny at first when it was at other people

He gets kinda frozen and can't help but sigh when it's directed at him

He thought Uncle Aaron would not like you when he brought you home

Not him mom

But you did great!

He didn't even need to warn you about calling his mom by her first name

He's gotta get used to you being so extroverted

Especially because now he is more closed off and likes to keep to himself more

Especially being the Prowler

But when you want to do anything and everything, social and make friends

He's the one looking over your shoulder and directing you away from assholes

He loves you, but he doesn't want you being hurt

You got them scary boyfriend privileges

I think you guys make a great pair

Miles was initially hesitant to introduce you to his mom and Uncle Aaron, but you wore him down.

So that's how he stood in the hallway of his own apartment like the guest, as his mother already liked you.

Plus, you didn't call her by her first name.

"Aye, you're so pretty, Mija." Miles' mother smiled at you, getting a genuine one back as she stood next to you, glancing at Miles.

"Oh, ¿cómo te las arreglaste?" Mrs. Morales started, her son blushed as he stood behind you, watching his mom practically flaunt around you.

"Mom!" Miles complained, Mrs. Morales waving him off with an eye roll.

"How did you meet my son of all people, hon?" Mrs. Morales asked, guiding you to the kitchen as you followed behind her, laughing under your breath.

"Well, I was walking to Mr. Gonzalez's bakery, and I was in line but I looked outside," you started, Miles freezing in embarrassment at the upcoming story as Uncle Aaron laughed.

"I saw Miles standing there in the window, but he was just staring at me?" You said, a confused tone in your voice as Miles could hear his mom chuckle.

"Anyway, I smiled at him and he sorta jumped. He…sorta smiled back? It was a little loopy but then he turned away real quick, but he tripped."

"Oh, man…" Uncle Aaron laughed, wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulder as Miles looked down, blushing thankfully hidden as he hid his face in his shirt.

"He fell sorta hard so I went outside to help him, and yeah!" You smiled, Miles shaking his head as Uncle Aaron elbowed him.

"Stop…" Miles muttered, turning around to head to the kitchen as Uncle Aaron couldn't keep in his laugh any more.

Hey, you said it how it was.

Miles may complain about it, but seeing how you were sitting on the counter talking to his mom with a smile on his face, he couldn't complain about it much.

[capricores]

if you have strong mutable (gemini, sagittarius, pisces, virgo) placements then you NEED to write things down if you don't already. all those thoughts that constantly swirl in your head: the frequent tasks, goals, feelings, aspirations, opinions, etc - WRITE THEM DOWN. this is not only therapeutic & stress-relieving for you but almost necessary, or you're going to burn out and overload your own mind constantly.

when you bottle, or when you let plans, goals, dreams, to-do lists, projects, etc live solely in your head - you'll notice you can't sleep as well, it's harder to rest, your memory gets more foggy than usual, you feel burnt out and unable to connect, etc. specifically:

write down your feelings. this will be your ultimate (free) therapy. start to journal, write a diary. make a private twitter/tumblr where you spill your feelings, frustrations, thoughts. you will feel an immense sense of relief by writing or typing your feelings out - even if no one is reading it but you. mutable moons especially. our feelings tend to change rapidly, but it doesn't make them less valid. don't bottle out of the fear your feelings will change/you'll just "get over it"!! write it down and let it out!!

write! to-do! lists!!!!! these don't have to be for important things. you want to learn digital art? you want to study coding? you want to learn french? you want to re-decorate? you probably have a billion things you want to do, and then you get overwhelmed by the options, and do nothing. write down all the things you want to do. make a to-do list for these things. get them out of your head and somewhere permanent/physical. looking at the options in front of you will feel much easier.

make excel project trackers (you can even make these for to-do list items/goals/etc)! mutable placements have a tendency to start a lot of projects or tasks, and never finish any of them. make a simple tracker for all the projects you start. you won't forget what you're working on, and you'll be less overwhelmed trying to remember what you have going on (example of the one i always use pictured below)

talking out your thoughts and feelings is also very cathartic. make fake (or real, i support u!) youtube vlogs where you spill your feelings and talk about your plans, your day, what you have to do, etc. talk to someone you love and trust, vent to them about how things are; or about what you're getting up to. i find writing has an edge, because you can go back to it for reference (mutables tend to forget things easily) - but as long as you're getting the swirl of your mind somewhere outside of your head, you'll feel so, so much less stressed.

mutable dominants tend to constantly live in go-mode, we're restless and always doing something. we feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty about staying still. our minds don't ever shut off. it's very important for mutable placements to learn how to rest, be present in the moment, and learn grounding. this can be done in many ways, but i've found personally that writing works best for me. other helpful practices can be: talk therapy, acceptance theory, yoga, meditation, hiking, camping, etc.

i also want to remind mutable signs: we change a lot. we have a lot of ideas. there's so much we want to do. we often feel like we have no path, no big goal; we can struggle with purpose as we don't often aspire for permanent things or "one big goal". this is NOT bad. there is nothing wrong with changing your feelings, your mind, your goals, your life path. you CAN do all the things you want to do! you have your entire life ahead of you! yes, you can learn all those languages. yes, you can have three different careers in your life. yes yes yes! don't listen to negativity from others. don't beat yourself up for not having one big goal like some people around you might. cherish and embrace all the things you want to achieve and complete (both big and small). learn to follow-through with and finish the things that matter to you (writing things down will really help with this, make action plans/steps - break everything down into smaller pieces). take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments as they come. you got this!

[flymetothexmoon]

Text Messages + Photos

18+

Warnings: Swearing. Medicated Drug Use. Implied Breeding Kink. Consensual Sexting.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It was quiet.

It was the kind of quiet where you could not even hear your own breathing.

The day was long, and the night was even longer, as you tried to feel something while simultaneously nothing at all. You stretched, desperate, as the faint sound of the bones in your body releasing the build up's from the day you had.

Satisfied, you extended your arm outward, reaching for something on your nightstand. Your fingers found what they were looking for, and without ever looking in that direction, your fingers moved from side to side as you opened what you searching were for.

Pop.

The sound of a bottle opening, and you swore the noise alone could have woke a colony of ants with hot quiet it was. Extending downward, you could feel the different textures on your fingertips as you dug deeper, the pill bottle being the prize and your hand being the crane like in the arcade game you use to love as a kid. Finally, you felt something, and your hand moved upward as you reached what you were looking for, exposing it to the outside.

Your eyes traveled downward, looking at the pill your hand; it was circular, and pale blue in color. Slowly, you could feel your eyes closing as you brought the pill to your lips, swiftly swallowing its contents and feeling the rigid edges tickle against your throat.

You did not even realize that your eyes had remained closed until the faint vibration of your phone buzzed next to you, your eyelids fluttering open, the feeling of your eyelashes hitting your bottom lids like tiny butterflies.

The Legend: Señorita. U up?

A small laugh escaped your lips as you read who the message was from-- Thanos, one of the only men you'd ever willingly given your phone number to, solely he begged you for it, and fittingly enough, made sure you remembered who it was every time he messaged you, the nickname he gave himself to every person he met, but only allowed select few to actually call him by and you were lucky enough to be on the list. Lucky you.

Your fingers glided across your home screen, unlocking its contents to get a better view of the text messages, all your previous conversations with him on display.

Your Contact Name: si, sénior. what are you up to?

Giggling, you played into his game of throwing random English and Spanish speaking words in his vocabulary. The first time he ever spoke Spanish in front of you he was trying to order a special kind of Tequila and ended up completely butchering the punctuation, making you do the smile, laugh, and shoulder hit you only see in the movies or in television drama's.

Everyone in your circle could feel the tension between you two, sometimes even your own mind would get cloudy with was really happening vs. what was just friends gossiping among friends.

Ding.

Another text message came in.

The Legend: mh'mm... call me that and again and u will find out ;) just got home from being out... why didnt u show ur pretty little face tonight?

Truth be told, you were not even aware that your mutual friends were going out tonight, let alone that Thanos would be there. Your lips curved into a frown, slightly disappointed that you were unaware, but also silently thankful because your body definitely needed the rest from the workload you had endured earlier.

You were about to respond, then it hit you... he called you pretty.

Your Contact Name: was too tired. work sucked. missed you handsome.

Your heart fluttered slightly at the boldness of your own words, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy as the pill you took just moments before was starting to take effect. Shifting your body slightly, the feeling of your bones rattling as you sat upward, pillows against your back.

The Legend: u know... work does not need to be the only thing that sucks in ur life

Just as quick as your mind started to get numb, a shot of electricity woke up inside of you.

Your Contact Name: mmm. no? pls eleborate, sénior.

On the other side of town, Thanos was on the floor of his best friend's apartment, phone in hand, grinning like a kid in a candy store as he read your text messages. The electricity shooting through his body as well, feeling it hard to control another feeling he was experiencing down below.

The Legend: señorita how about i show u instead?

The text was risky, but that was what Thanos lived for and at this point his finger was on the trigger and your response was the bullet, quick and loud as the invisible smoke hung around the air.

Your Contact Name: i'll be waiting.

Thanos' eyes darkened at your message, quickly closing them, as he gripped onto his phone so hard his finger accidentally grazed his lock button and closed his home screen. The clicking sound of his home screen forced his eyes open as he looked behind him, his best friend Nam-gyu, passed out behind him with no visible trace of ever waking up any time soon, his chest slowly rising up and down and his mouth slightly ajar.

For a brief moment, Thanos actually thought about how he should reply. Usually when he would get into a suggestive texting conversation with a woman, he would waste no time and either invite her over or depending on his mood send her a picture of his cock, but with you, he wanted to write a novel with his words about what he'd do to you and wanted each picture he sent to feel like a goddamn piece of art.

He chose the later, looking over his shoulder one last time to make sure his friend was in fact still asleep. Thanos positioned himself against the bed frame, his back, his sweat-from-the-club dress shirt hitting the cold metal as he swiftly moved his pants around and allowed his cock time to breathe. His hand was warm, and slightly clammy, he did not care. Releasing himself, he felt the base smack against his stomach as he positioned himself better so the whole thing was captured. Thanos was a lot of things, but one thing he was not was an ammature at taking photos of his cock.

The Legend: u like baby??

That was all it took for the two of you start testing the waters of your friendship, asking questions, sharing intimate details, sending photographs and the occasional video, and praising each other, before Thanos finally sent you the message that send literal chills down your spine and simultaneously made your hands sweat.

The Legend: señorita ur so fucking sexy... do u know what u do to me? if i could have one night with u without our fucking idiot friend group i would destroy u. push my thumb so deep in u and turn u upside down so there was no potential way for my cum to escape u... m'mm... fucking force u to feel it

Just like that, he lost you. Your breathing was heavy and your left two three fingers were covered. Embarrassed, but also slightly aroused by yourself, you positioned your camera so he could see you on display, see your hand as you one handingly typed out your final message to him...

Your Contact Name: well sénior... guess that means you need to come over for round two.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[crappymixtape]

stand on my own

after months of begging, steve finally takes you home to meet his parents – you've been together for over a year and he doesn't talk about them much, but once you meet them you begin to understand why *18+ only | ( 3K words – TW: verbal abuse, almost physical abuse, both from steve's dad – angst, hurt / comfort, sprinkle of fluff, est. relationship, steve x you, steve x reader )

S T A N D O N M Y O W N 🎶 stupid 4 u, dizzy

When you pulled into the Harrington’s driveway, your mouth dropped open at the sheer size of the house. Three times the size of yours growing up with a brand new Porsche parked out front. Steve always told you his dad was materialistic, but he hadn’t said anything about how materialistic or how much someone would have to make to drive a car like that.

Robin had warned you, told you the Harringtons were the pinnacle of Hawkins, Indiana, but if you didn’t grow up with that last name in your mouth, you’d have no idea. No idea of the legacy the Harringtons built after producing generation after generation of lawyers, and why would you? Hawkins was a tiny dot on the map compared to Indianapolis.

You’d moved away from the city in pursuit of a softer life, roomed with Robin Buckley after you’d both been accepted at the local community college and met her best friend – most platonic boyfriend, Steve – on your first night there at a party. He had been standing shoulder-to-shoulder drinking a beer with another guy, Eddie Munson, and both had grease stains all over their pants. In another world, you might have found it a turn-off, but when he caught your eye from across the room you knew you were done for.

Long locks of hair fell into his eyes, his thick lashes sweeping across high cheekbones when he blinked, and the most perfect, pink lips that tugged up at the corner in a grin, grinning at you. High school basketball superstar turned mechanic after getting denied by Indiana State, and damn, it looked good on him.

The day after the party, your car broke down just outside of town, and he came to pick you up in the tow truck with grease-smudged hands and a towel hanging out of the back pocket of his Carhartts. You talked the whole way back to the garage, told him about growing up in the city and how it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. He told you how his favorite thing about Hawkins was the way the sky lit up in the summer right as the sun went down, set to flames as it crept beneath the horizon and you asked him if he’d show you sometime. When you got to the shop he told you he’d personally make sure your car was put back in tip-top shape and then took you for the best milkshake of your life at the diner afterward.

Eddie’s uncle Wayne owned the shop, simply called Munson’s, and had been running it since his old man died back in the 50s. It was the most trusted mechanic south of the city and while it wasn’t glamorous, it was honest work, and Steve liked the people. They were thankful for his help and paid him enough to make a decent living, and there was something about working with his hands that gave Steve a sense of gratification and pride he’d never experienced before. Not stuck behind some desk 9-5 like his dad. He didn’t make hundreds of thousands of dollars or live in a mini-mansion, and even though all that wasn’t important to Steve, it still didn’t make him feel any better as he rumbled into his parents’ driveway.

“Shit,” Steve muttered under his breath as he shifted the truck into park. Running his hands through his hair, he let his head fall forward onto the steering wheel, his nerves palpable from the passenger seat. “I really don’t want to go in there.”

“You’re not going alone, if that’s any consolation?” you offered, gently teasing, rubbing a hand over the soft fabric of the only clean, white t-shirt he owned.

He gave you a lopsided smile and turned the truck off, “That helps a lot.”

“Good.”

The light on the porch flicked on, and it drew Steve’s attention like the snap of a whip.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” you grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed as the front door opened to reveal the portrait of a perfect housewife, Carol Harrington.

“Hi, honey!” she called with a wave, gesturing you to get out of the truck and Steve huffed a heavy sigh.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, expression tinged with dread. With one last glance over at you, he moved to open his door, “Listen, if my dad says anything, I can’t promise I won’t say something back.”

“That makes two of us,” you half-joked, but Steve knew by the look in your eye you were serious. If there was anything you didn’t tolerate, it was demeaning people, and from what Robin said, Gary Harrington had used Steve as his verbal punching bag for most of his life.

You watched as Steve tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat as he pushed himself off the truck bench and out onto the driveway.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I hope you came hungry!” Carol said, wiping her hands on the red, checkered apron tied around her waist. “I made a casserole, a fresh green salad, and those rolls you like so much.”

“Oh–you didn’t have to do all that,” Steve insisted as he met his mom on the steps, his cheeks growing pink under the warm glow of the porch light.

“Of course I did.” Carol pulled her son into a hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And who is this?” she smiled, turning her attention to you, big, blue eyes appraising, trying to decide if you were good enough for her Stevie.

You returned the smile, introducing yourself as Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his Levis, anxious. The weight of her gaze was heavy and for a minute it shook you, but you doubled down. No one was going to push you around.

“Thank you for having us,” you said genuinely and a pleased look passed over her features.

“Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you! We’ve been asking Stevie to come to dinner for months now. How’d you convince him?”

“Mom.”

“Okay,” she put her hands up in surrender. “Here, let’s get you two out of the cold. Come in, come in.”

If the outside manicured lawn and award-winning flowerbeds were perfection, then the inside had to have been crafted by God himself.

Every surface was spotless, decorated exquisitely with things you’d only seen in a catalog. Large, smooth, eggshell vases full of bare branches arranged just so, portraits of sweeping landscapes framed in gold and glass candy dishes sat atop polished, mahogany credenzas. As you took it all in, you noticed there were no photos of the family, and in that moment it all felt so empty. Staged and not properly lived in.

“Please, sit! What can I get you to drink?” Carol’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you glanced over to see her holding two bottles of wine. “I’ve got a chilled rosé or a bold red, can’t make a bad choice.”

“Thank you, but water’s fine,” you insisted and a grumble from the head of the dining room table pulled your attention.

Sitting in one of the lavishly, upholstered, high-backed chairs, Steve’s father met your gaze over the top of the newspaper he held in his hands. Folding it up, he set it neatly on the table top and folded his arms over chest, not appraising like Carol. No. This was judgement, cold and severe.

“Not a drinker, hm?” he drawled and you felt Steve tense at your side.

“One of us needs to be responsible,” you quipped back, half-joking and taking Steve’s hand in yours. It’s okay.

The older man snorted in reply and took up the tumbler of scotch at the side of his table setting. Before you could reply, Carol jumped in in an attempt to settle the already blooming tension.

“So, what do you do, dear? Stevie tells us you’re in school!” she asked, setting a hot casserole at the center of the table.

“Oh,” fell out, clumsy as the attention fully focused on you, “I’m uh–I’m pursuing a degree in the arts.”

“The arts! How wonderful!” Carol gushed, returning from the kitchen with a basket of rolls and glass, bowl of salad. “Literature or teaching? Some noble profession surely,” she said, tone oozing and saccharine sweet.

“Ceramics,” you replied tensely, wanting to be embarrassed, but refusing to give them the satisfaction. “I’m actually hoping to open my own studio someday.”

You’d barely finished your sentence when your ears caught Gary mumbling something about hippies and Steve’s mouth firmed into a flat line.

“Dad.”

“What?” Gary snipped back, taking another drink of his scotch as Carol pushed you both into your chairs. “It’s not a very common profession to get into. How’d you find it anyway?” Gary asked, feigning interest, but you could hear the skepticism.

Sitting a bit taller in your chair you leaned forward, chin tilted up in confidence, You can’t scare me.

“I’m originally from Indianapolis, but I came out here looking for something a little…slower. It’s a bit too busy up there for me. Mom was hoping I’d follow in her footsteps up there as a doctor, but–”

“Now see, that’s real work!” Gary said, leaning forward to match you. He shook his head, clicking his tongue at you. “Throwing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity away.”

“Dad!” Steve protested again from his chair next to you, the tension pulling taut in the air.

“Gary,” Carol cut in, eyes on her plate and not meeting the look her husband was giving her. “That’s enough. I’m sure she has good reason.“ Taking the serving spoon she started to dish everyone up. “How’s work going for you, Stevie?”

A heavy sigh pushed itself from Steve’s lungs and he closed his eyes for a minute. You could tell he was uncomfortable and for a minute you regretted making him do this. Taking his hand under the table you squeezed, reassuring, and he opened his eyes again to look at you in silent thanks.

“Uh…yeah,” he started, regaining his composure. “It’s good. Eddie and I are pretty busy right now. Wayne’s showing me how to do the books, actually.”

“Oh! Well, that’s wonderful!” Carol said with a comforting smile as she dished up her husband. “Isn’t that wonderful, Gary?”

“Wonderful isn’t the word I’d choose,” Gary sneered and Carol elbowed his shoulder.

“Behave,” she tutted.

“Actually, Wayne says he’s gonna retire soon,” Steve said sitting up a little taller and your stomach flipped over.

You’d talked on the way over about not sharing any of the news about the shop with them. Promised you wouldn’t say a word about it because it would only make things worse, but you watched now as Steve put it all on the table. Brave. Confident. Proud.

A vein bulged in the middle of Gary’s forehead.

“He’s leaving it to Eddie and–well, Eddie asked if I want to be his business partner. I haven’t signed the paperwork yet, but I’m going to. I want to. I think it’ll be good for–

“Absolutely not! Over my dead body,” Gary slammed a hand flat against the table and you flinched at the force of it, silverware clattering metallically against the fine china.

“It’s a good business, Dad, with a solid client list,” Steve pushed, “I make more than enough to–”

“You think you can convince me?” Gary growled, a sardonic smile twisting across his lips. “You wanna end up like the Munsons? Living like trailer trash?” The smile disappeared. “Jesus Steven, you’ve got a family business right here — your legacy — and you’re shitting all over it! For what? Some filthy garage?”

Carol’s face was as white as a sheet as Gary dug in and she put a hand on his shoulder, “Gary, please–”

“No, Carol. I’m not done,” he shrugged her off and stood from his chair. “That family has done nothing but produce a long line of losers,” he said, pointing a finger off out the dining room window toward Forest Hills. “Edward’s father was a drunk and that kid is one disaster away from drinking what little money he has. I mean, look at him! He’s always high, driving around town in that piece of shit van with hair down to his ass and–”

“Shut up!”

Steve stood up then and slapped the palms of his hands against the table, making you flinch again, your heart leaping into your throat as you watched him glare at his father, flushed and red from his neck to his ears, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Stevie–” Carol pleaded, but he ignored her.

“God, I’m so tired of it,” Steve roughed his hands over his face, flinging an arm in the same direction his father had. Toward Eddie, his partner, his best friend. “The Munsons work really hard! And they’re honest, which can’t be said for you,” he pushed, Gary’s face twisting ugly as Steve laid into him. “Lying and cheating people for what, huh? For money? For a Porche?”

“You watch your mouth,” Gary said a little too evenly and unease settled in your stomach.

“No. I’m not gonna sit here and let you lecture me about something you know nothing about. When was the last time you really felt proud, Dad? Like you accomplished something?”

“Every day!” Gary snapped, “When I sit at my desk and look at the framed degree on my wall because I did something with my life, Steven!” He pushed his chair out behind him and took a half step around the table toward his son. “I’ve become someone and made a name for myself! I support my wife because I’m a man,” he emphasized his point with a finger to Steve’s chest and you watched as Steve’s body grew stiff, hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Yeah, well based on the flashy sports car in the driveway I’d say you’re compensating.”

“That’s enough!”

Gary stepped into Steve, Steve’s back bumping into the wall and it pulled you up from your seat while Carol shrunk into hers, head buried in her hands.

“You ungrateful little shit,” Gary spat, “You’re being handed an opportunity on a silver platter and spitting on it. How dare you—”

“No, dad! How dare you?” Steve shoved a hand flat into his dad’s chest and the older man stumbled back a step. “I bring home the most important person in my life to meet you, and you can’t even keep it together for more than five minutes! It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassing. Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed your hand and started to pull you toward the door, food untouched on the table, but Gary took a half-step into your path of escape.

“You’ll stay until you apologize,” he growled.

Steve laughed incredulously. “Apologize? For what? For telling you what we already know? That you’re a selfish asshole?”

“What did I say about language?” Gary returned the shove Steve had given him, but Steve didn’t move.

“Honey, stop. Please,” Carol begged her husband from the table, but her pleas were ignored.

“My entire life, all you’ve been is gone," Steve leveled. "You were never there for me, especially when I needed you the most, and, honestly? I don’t care what you think, Dad. Not anymore.” Steve pushed himself to his full height, at least a full two inches taller than his father, and shouldered past him, “We’re out of here.”

“Stevie, sweetheart don’t go,” Carol finally stood from her chair, coming around to paw at Steve’s back. “You know how he gets, he just needs to walk it off—“

“—stop making excuses for him, mom. He doesn’t deserve it and you deserve better.”

Carol kept grabbing at him and it made something snap inside you.

“Don’t touch him,” you said firmly, pressing a hand into hers and tugging it away from Steve. The look on her face then was like you’d slapped her and a tiny pinch of guilt squeezed in your chest, but Gary made sure to fix that, his voice at your backs.

“If you leave, that’s it, Steven! Game over!” he shouted.

“I don’t want it, Dad.”

“I’m serious! One more step and you’re written out of the company!” Gary said just as you both reached the door, Steve’s hand on the handle as he spun around to make sure he made eye contact with his dad.

“Where’s the paper? I’ll write it myself!” Steve snapped and for the first time that evening Gary was rendered speechless, mouth dropped open in shock. “If you break down, don’t call me.”

Pride swelled in your chest and you had to keep from whooping and hollering right there in the foyer, but as soon as you both were safely on the other side of the thick, wooden, double doors you flung your arms around him.

“Holy shit, babe,” you breathed, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the warm, citrusy scent of his cologne setting you at ease as his arms squeezed at your waist. Pulling away, you clasped his face between your hands. “First? I’m so sorry,” you said, shaking your head, running your thumb gently over his cheek, “And second? You were amazing in there, standing up for yourself.”

Steve turned a deep shade of pink, clearing his throat as his eyes dropped down to look at his shoes. “No way, that was awful.”

“It was,” you agreed, leading him slowly back to the truck, “But I’ve never seen you defend yourself, your hard work, like that. It’s not something to disregard.”

“You think so?” he asked the steering wheel after settling onto the bench seat next to you, the truck rumbling to life when he turned the key over.

Lifting a hand to the strong line of his jaw you gently turned his head to look at you.

“I know so,” you said softly, “And I love you and the way you take care of me, so damn much.”

His lashes fluttered, blinking away the starts of his tears, and smiled through it. No one had ever stood by his side the way you had just now. Had pushed through all the bullshit from his family and didn't shy away from it all. It meant more to him than he could ever put into words, so he settled for the truth.

“I love you too," he said, leaning into you with a hand pressed to your thigh and holding your cheek in his other. “I love you,” he said again, a soft whisper as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” another to your cheek. “I love you,” his mouth meeting the corner of yours. “I love you,” his bottom lip catching yours perfectly, sweetly, “I love you.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[zomb-rabbit]

Rabbit

Rabbit I'm begging you to do stalker headcanons with Mh or EMH guys (you don't gotta ofc! But w o ah)

🐟

AAAA IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THEM !!!! I WAS RLLY HAPPY W HOW THE TOBY ONES CAME OUT :)))) also,,,, watch me hit u w ALL the guys !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (nsfw can come later if u wish fishy, i skipped it cus this is alr a super long post BFJSJFNJS) (also i got to use my rainbow dividers i have saved up cus there's so many ppl YAYYYYYYY)

[📹⛓️‍💥🚬👁️☠️🐇]

Stalker!Brian Thomas / Hoodie / Tim Wright / Masky / Evan Myers / HABIT x gn!reader headcanons :)

Brian ;

ok we know Brian likes to record

so expect there to be at least one camera on you a majority of the time

sometimes he'll leave it in a tree or placed just right behind a fence post, zoomed in on your bedroom window so he can document you and your routine even when he's busy

he's so thoughtful 😸😸😸

definitely the type to perfectly curate a "meet-cute" for the both of you, writing down the coffee place you stop off at on mondays for a pick-me-up, the stores you go to that have your favorite brand of something, he calculates his every action with you long before it's happened.

he knows what he's doing is wrong, but unlike Toby, he's not exactly ashamed of it. if anything he likes the added excitement that you could still find him out

this is one of the times him and Hoodie kind of blur together a little bit, both in morals and actions

Brian is fully willing to do whatever it takes to keep eyes on you and to keep you under his thumb and his alone; it doesn't matter who gets in his way

Hoodie ;

also a big fan of recording, but tends to get much more risky with it

likes the feeling that you might catch a little camera that's nestled in between some trinkets and books or a pile of blankets you keep on your couch

he is a creepy creeper . he wants to watch EVERYTHING

gets his feelings hurt when you close your curtains cus you feel eyes on you (you're right, but still :(()

it takes a lot to deter him from doing everything in his power to keep watch over you

he's not even sure of his own motives, really. sure, he wants to keep you safe and make sure no one else is watching you, but most of the time he's just there to watch.

you're like a doll to him, something to entertain him.

Masky ;

this isn't even part of this i just wanna say the vibe for stalker Masky (and just him in general tbh) for me feels a lot like the intro to My Meds Aren't Working by Dystopia . very slow, calculating, stuck in your own head but still zeroed in on one thing

and it's you ofc !!!!

i think Masky is one of the more scarier guys to have stalking you on this lineup honestly. hot? yes absolutely. terrifying to see constantly out of the corner of your eye, sitting at the bus stop outside your job, standing in the parking lot of the gas station by your apartment complex and staring up into your window? YES VERY

he's haunting. he doesn't go up to you, will go completely brick wall at you if you try to come up to him, and you can never tell what emotion is going on behind his eyes. the few times you've walked closer to him, likely on the street in the earlier stages, he looked hungry. like he was waiting and watching for your guard to be down to do something.

if he knows you'll be out, he'll get into your house to steal some of your clothes- likely your underwear (creepy crawler) and a sleep shirt

you will never see him without the mask on. point blank. not to smoke, eat, anything. he is not human or himself when he's around you; he needs to absorb everything about you.

i don't think of him to be the type to film you, would rather be there in person 24/7. it feels more personal to him.

Tim ;

one of the few guys that feels guilt about what he's doing- he knows how scary it is to feel watched all the time. how awful it is to find out you were right.

he’s embarrassed of himself; he’s prided himself on being stoic and independent for so long that this sudden urge to love you and watch you and know you gives him waves of shame

watches from afar, would definitely try and avoid letting himself get too close to you in person. he’s ashamed of it, but he can’t help himself- he needs you, even if at a distance. 

steals clothes you’ve slept in so he can try and satiate his yearning to be close to you without actually needing to be so vulnerable, with you or anyone

his near dependency on you reminds me of It Will Come Back by Hozier, his obsession is fed by breadcrumbs from the few in-person up close encounters he’s had with you. smiles when he comes into where you work, nervous little waves when you catch him looking at you at the store, soft 'excuse me!'s when you pass by him

you drive him up a wall (lovingly)

Evan ;

Evan feels guilty, but for the ‘wrong’ reasons

i say ‘wrong’ because he’s more concerned with you inevitable introduction to the whole Habit mess, not with the morals of stalking and obsessing over you

despite his guilt, he can’t get enough of you. his persistence rivals Brian's; it’s almost immediate that he tries to get you with him

latches onto you for fear of you leaving- honestly less of a stalker and more on the obsessive side. not good at keeping his hands to himself. 

you might be one of the only cases where he tries to bargain and/or work with Habit, in an attempt to keep you safe or keep you near him out of desperation if you're not listening to him when he tries to convince you to stay with him essentially 25/8

touchy obsessive little critter . give him what he wants before he goes sicko mode (being 10 feet away from you at all times)

Habit ;

does not hide himself AT ALL

will actively be letting you know he's watching

seeing him behind you in mirrors, rabbit motifs everywhere, a random blood splatter in plain sight that no one else seems to see.

he watches, he knows, and he learns

what things make you the most paranoid, all the ways he can slowly introduce himself in a more. friendly light to get you to trust him. to love him.

he's what's best for you, whether you like it or not. it just might take some time for you to get there

ironically for him, think 'The Best Is Yet To Come' by Frank Sinatra. it's just a matter of time before things get so much better. for the both of you, of course!

[sunkissedchld]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔 𝒗𝒆𝒓. 𝒐𝒏𝒆

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. the piles are from elft to right, so the clear crystal is pile one, the tiger's eye is pile two, and so on and so forth. lastly, please don't be afraid to say if the message resonated or not; it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it's "bad".

good luck to you, reader 🔮

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Signs:

heavily craving or avoiding physical touch, prominent first house or major first house transits right now, 9/99/999, heavy fire sign placements or embodying fire sign energy recently (or needing to), archangel gabriel, heavy sagittarius and/or cancer energy, mercury, uranus

Shufflemancy: 

“Confessions” by Usher

“Lost Without U” by Robin Thicke

“Insecure” by Amare La Negra

“ICONIC” by Aespa

“3RACHA” by Stray Kids

Cards:

Ace of Cups, Page of Wands (Rx), Knight of Swords (Rx), Broom, Knight of Pentacles (Rx), Queen of Pentacles, Justice, The Hermit, The Star, The Magician

Reading: 

It feels like there’s two camps of people for this pile: those with project ideas in mind for work or for their own personal lives and those interested in a potential crush or relationship. I’ll try to give examples for both and keep things semi-neutral, but sometimes things aren’t always that clean, so apply to your situation as needed. 

You may feel excited about this new project or relationship. You’re excited about potential prospects and have all these ideas running in your mind about how to go about things or how things will turn out, but this excitement is actually proving to be unhelpful or detrimental in a sense. Excitement with the right work ethic and listening ears can be a blessing, but without direction and input from others can cause you flail. It seems you could be rushing into things and trying to make pieces fit where they don’t so to speak. You could be thinking your plan is perfect and if everything just went the way you wanted, then all would be great, but this isn’t true. You need to get rid of this idea of you being this know-it-all who knows exactly what’s happening right now. 

For those of you who are used to always pursuing and making things happen; you need to step back and allow the universe to play out its wants. You could be the type of person who thinks they have to sacrifice everything in order to be happy or live comfortably, and the truth is that is not the case. You can have a balance between your work life and romantic or personal one; it’s okay to love working and coming up with all these ideas, but you also need to learn how to get comfortable with being with others and yourself outside of that professional, work-minded setting. 

For those of you who sit in the background and are a little more lazy, the opposite is true in that you need to step into taking control of your own life instead of leaving decisions and everything else up to the universe or other people around you. you could be too hedonistic and concerned about personal connections to the point where you put your livelihood and financial security at risk. In both instances, a need to balance is present. Also for both instances, there’s an emphasis on spending a little bit of time with yourself to determine in which way you need to expand and in which way you need to pull back from some of your habits. 

This pursuit versus lackadaisical attitude can also be applied to pursuing relationships. Some of you are constantly on the look for this person you’re interested in, or you’re always thinking of how you want to be in a relationship or how you can get into one when you need to step back and let it come to you when you need it. Others of you are acting as if you’re completely out of the game and are putting in no effort to create and maintain relationships when the reality is humans are interactive creatures, and you too need interaction! Again, a balance is needed for those this aligns with. 

Ultimately, you can have whatever it is you want: the lead on the project, the relationship, the good work ethic, the hedonistic lifestyle, but you also need to balance that with what it is you’re avoiding. The perfect recipe or spell concoction isn’t made with too much of any one ingredient. Everything has to work together in order for so-called perfection to be derived.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Signs:

lack of sight, “going in blind”, prominent twelfth house placements or transits, heavy pisces placements or energy, 1212, venus, 3/33/333, “i’m walking on sunshine”; “i’m trying to ascend”; “i’m crucified like my savior; saint-like behavior”

Shufflemancy: 

“in my head” by Ariana Grande

“Cry Baby” by Megan Thee Stallion (feat. DaBaby)

“Say My Name (Live)” by Beyoncè

“Emotional Bruises” by Madison Beer

“Streets Is Callin’” by B2K

Cards:

Page of Wands (Rx), Page of Pentacles, The Chariot, Ace of Swords, Seven of Cups, The Patient Witch, Three of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Good Luck Charm

Reading: 

Those choosing pile two might be in an intermittent state currently. Previously, you could’ve felt like you were on top of the world with everything set in stone, but now you’ve lost your footing, and you can’t necessarily figure out why. You might’ve started a project or new endeavor, and now you’re running into unexpected troubles which are making you want to give up. 

You might be someone who is obsessive about the things they want; you need everything to turn out exactly how you pictured it - to the point of refusing to be happy with anything less or slightly different even if the bulk of what you want is given to you. When you do encounter differences (or what you’d consider roadblocks), you have a habit of abandoning things or believing you must’ve messed up in some way – even when that’s not the case! You get so focused on “fixing” things that you forget to be appreciative of what you do accomplish. 

It seems you recognize you’re on some sort of journey, and you’re excited to do so much; you have so many ideas you want to pursue that sometimes you confuse yourself about what to do. In some ways, an abundance of choices is confusing you. You could inherently know that you likely can’t pursue everything (or that you shouldn’t), but your curiosity is getting the best of you. For some of you, I feel like some of these illusionary good choices have already come forward, and you’ve figured out the hard way that not every choice available to you is a good one. 

Those of pile two are being called to do a few things. One is to be patient and listen to yourself. Again, you can have all these ideas about what you want to do, but you need to figure out a way to “be still” and concentrate your energy on what’s best for you. You don’t have to be making moves or plans all the time; I know being told to meditate can feel frustrating, but the truth is that it’s hard to make good decisions without fully thinking them through. This act of listening to your inner self does not have to be done completely alone though (although parts of it should be). Don’t be afraid to ask friends, your guides, or other people around you for advice or help. Talk through your ideas, work with others to achieve them – you might see more success creating a community as opposed to acting totally alone. 

Overall pile two, things will work out for you depending on how you act and whether or not you listen. If you keep pursuing things faster than you’re ready to, then you can expect rude awakenings about needing to slow down and think before acting. If you take the time to get in tune with yourself and determine what it is you truly should be going after, then you can expect better outcomes and results.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Signs:

9/99/999, feeling sick recently, not trusting yourself, “don’t trust yourself”, uranus prominence, the color red, lack of fight, dogma, fire dominance or being drawn to fire, 3/33/333, swords, prominent air energy or dominance, 6/66

Shufflemancy: 

“Right Here” by Alex Aiono

“Princess Going Digital” by Amaarae

“King’s Dead” by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock, Future, & James Blake)

“Muwop” by Latto (feat. Gucci Mane)

“Die A Little Bit” by Tinashe (feat. Ms Banks)

Cards:

Six of Swords, Six of Wands, Four of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Five of Swords, The World, Nine of Wands, Temperance, The Tower, Ten of Cups (Rx), Ace of Swords

Reading: 

I think this pile is mainly for those thinking about or experiencing a romantic situation – not everyone will be, so don’t be alarmed because the overall message will be able to be applied regardless of whether romance is in your life right now or not. Those who chose this pile may be the type to close themselves off from others; in a lot of ways you’re hiding your light and existence from people who would appreciate and celebrate you. You could be someone who has social anxiety or worries often about the way people perceive you; you might find it hard to make friends or to establish relationships (romantic, platonic, maybe even familial) where you feel comfortable revealing your authentic self to others. 

You’re being called to leave this unsure part of yourself behind. You could be insecure when it comes to interacting with others – maybe you have a stutter or there’s some other factor that impacts your speech or how comfortable you feel when talking to people. For some of you, you may not understand what makes you special or what would draw people to you as a person, but Six of Wands in the deck I have says, “you’re kind of a big deal, so start acting like it!”. Even if you can’t see your own beauty, draw, or light other people can and want to connect with you because of it and because of who you portray yourself to be. 

Going back to relationships and trying to make connections with others, you may be someone who always thinks the worst of people. You may often think, “no one will like me”; “I won’t be able to make friends here”; “I’m not interesting enough”; “all my relationships go to shit in some way, so why try”, and the advice to you is “you can’t be right all of the time”. The worst possible outcome is not the only outcome. There’s almost a guarantee that if you get out of your comfort zone and be intentional in establishing relationships with people, then you may find the outcomes you fear so much won’t happen. “You have to give people the chance to show you they’re not like the people who have been in your life previously”. 

There’s an emphasis on the fact that you’re still standing even though you may have experienced times when you didn’t think you would keep going. The only/main thing holding you back right now is not your guides or the universe or the people around you or some outside evil force that you think only has it out for you – you are imposing limitations on yourself because of your fear of being hurt again. Although you’re being urged to try and pursue relationships out of your own volition; it’s important to note that some people are coming forward regardless. You must get rid of this idea that you’re unlikeable or unlovable, and you’ll likely have a Tower moment regarding your idea of and the way you act in relationships soon.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Signs:

the color purple, feeling restless or tired, sun dominance or needing to go out in the sun, prominent capricorn, libra, and/or gemini placements, red orange/blood orange, second house placements or transits, “trust yourself”, artemis, poseidon, water dominance or working with water, hades

Shufflemancy: 

“libidO” by OnlyOneOf

“Focus” by H.E.R

“Victory” by Yolanda Adams 

“UGOMDN” by chlothegod

“Star Lost” by Stray Kids

Cards:

Page of Pentacles (Rx), Seven of Cups, The Patient Witch (Rx), Queen of Swords, Page of Cups, Five of Wands, Ten of Wands (Rx), The Lovers (Rx), Ace of Pentacles, Eight of Cups. Judgment

Reading: 

The message for those of you who chose pile four is going to be a little harsh – just as a disclaimer. Your guides may be at their wits end in trying to tell you nicely or in trying to contact you in general, so this could be a message you’ve been ignoring or not understanding for a while. This could be a lesson you keep running into; I heard “you’re tired? We’re tired too”, so take that as it resonates. This pile also feels adjacent to pile two because some of the same cards came out, but I think this pile is for those of you who have little time to make your decision to change your ways because you’ve already been warned multiple times. 

At your core, you embody the Queen of Swords; you may be quick-witted, steadfast in your knowledge of who you are and what you want, outspoken, and independent to a fault, but currently these attributes are manifesting in the most negative ways. Currently, you could be acting childish and “rotten”; I’m reminded of Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. You’re so stuck in this idea of how you want things to play out and what you want that you’ve backed yourself into a situation where you come off as immature and lazy if things don’t go your way. What seems to be coming through is “oh, you’re stubborn? We can be stubborn too”. 

Your guides are wanting you to loosen up and be open to experiencing what’s thrown to and/or given to you. You have the ultimate control over your life, but I’m seeing some of you specifically asked for your guides’ help and aid, so if you want it, then you have to listen to their suggestions also. Your work with them is not a one-way affair, so stop treating it as such. They are not magic genies who are to drop everything and give you everything you want at your beck and call. I heard “cruisin’ for a bruisin’” which could be related to your need to control things. 

The advice of this reading is really to be mindful of how you're treating your guides and your intentions in your journey with them. For one, you’re shouldering too much responsibility to the point where you’re burning yourself out. It is not possible to go through life all by yourself with no help or input from anyone else. It’s also not possible to have a relationship with your guides and never listen to them or treat them like they’re your servants. If you keep running into obstacles and misfortunes going on your own, then maybe try their way for a while and see how it works for you. 

Overall pile four, your guides want to work with you. They want to provide you with abundance and see you prosper and above all happy, but if you refuse to listen, then you will keep stumbling.

[zelcii]

do u right for luke castellan? if u do can u write some fluff for himmm? thank u, love ur writing

why | luke castellan

“if you want to stay as the counsellor of your cabin, you’re going to have to work harder,” mr. d said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“i’m sorry,” you deadpanned, frustration creeping into your voice. “what?”

chiron rolled his eyes at dionysus. “it’s nothing personal,” he replied dismissively. “we appreciate your efforts—”

“we just know that you can do better,” mr. d interrupted.

luke stood just outside the door, waiting for you, when he overheard the conversation. he didn’t think much of it, except for how wrong both chiron and mr. d were.

what surprised him the most was the meek, tired “yes, sir,” that slipped from your lips on the other side of the door.

as your boyfriend, luke has had the opportunity to watch you up close as you hustle through camp, over-organising activities, making sure every camper is accounted for. you’re always on the move, practically running the place, and sometimes he wonders if you ever take a minute to breathe. your dedication is impressive, no doubt, but it hurts him to see you wear yourself down with every unnecessary list, every forced smile you give chiron, and each desperate attempt to hold everything together on your own.

today is no different, of course. the kids are out exploring, their laughter echoing in the distance, while you sit at one of the empty tables with a can of soda, sluggishly jotting down yet another mundane task for the afternoon.

“hey, camper,” you say, barely looking up from your notebook as you take a sip of your strawberry soda.

“come,” he says, but it’s not really a question.

“what?” you glance up, surprise flickering in your eyes as he gently places a hand on your arm, urging you to stand.

“you heard me.” with one hand, he closes your notebook and tucks it under his arm, then grabs your can of soda and takes a sip.

“but—the kids?” you protest, frowning.

“eh. they won’t miss you.” he flashes you a grin, and with a stifled chuckle escaping you, the two of you make your way over to the empty dock, settling down with your legs dangling over the edge.

“how are you?” luke questions, you watch the way his slim waist slumps as he stretched his hands out behind him. “and i mean really.”

“good. haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you in a while though,” you smile, watching your reflection in the water beneath you.

“why?” the boy asked. you paused. there was a look in your eye as you went over your answer, a look that luke would never forget. you never thought of why exactly you’ve been busy all summer. probably because the answer seemed obvious to you.

“i’m working, luke?” you say, though you sound unsure. “why do you ask?”

the wood is warm beneath you as you stare out into the lake. you could see a group of campers staggered around the edges of the lake, a few taking a moment to dip into the coolness of the water. luke was leaned back on his hands, a lazy smile on his face as he watches the way your lips curl up at the sight of your kids.

“mr. d wasn’t the best this morning during senior council…” luke started, carefully watching the way your face twisted for your reaction. “i don’t know, i guess i get surprised when you let things like that slide.”

“what’s this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to look at him. he looks almost unreal in the warm light of the setting sun, the golden rays casting a soft glow on the side of his face, making his eyes seem to shine just for you. he was a demigod for sure.

“an intervention,” he jokes, a hint of mischief in his tone. 

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss how the sunlight catches in your hair, turning it a soft gold. it’s a moment, a second of reluctance that tells him to think twice before he continues this conversation with you.

“look,” he says, his tone shifting slightly. he sat up straighter, his eyes never leaving yours, “i’ve noticed you’ve been working your ass off lately; more than most of us. so why’d you just take that shit from mr. d?”

for a minute, all you could do was stare at him, and all he could do was stare at you. he took note of how the meat on your bones seemed to lessen over the course of the summer, how your tired eyes sunk into your rosy cheeks, and how your lips glossed over with the same lip gloss you had since the sixth grade.

“i know… what it sounds like—” you start, but he cuts you off.

“do you even like being a counsellor?”

“of course, i do,” you say with no hesitation, your eyes hardening as you sounded slightly offended.

his expression softens, concern flickering across his face. “look, baby, i know it’s none of my business how you choose to waste your time, but you barely even sleep anymore.”

you take so much shit from chiron and mr. d and you never even once go against their orders, we haven’t had time alone since before summer, and you give so much of your time to people who don’t deserve it… i know that nobody asked you this before,” 

“but do you ever wonder why?”

the question hangs between you, and for a moment, you’re silent, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. you look down at your hands, playing with the edges of your shorts. “why what?” you knew ‘why what.’

“why are you like this?” he prompts, holding eye contact.

“because…” you sigh, searching for the right words. “i don’t know… but chiron—”

“forget chiron,” he replies softly as he takes your hand in his. “you’re his best counsellor. he was probably just messing with you, sweetheart.”

you meet his gaze, and for the first time, you realise how much weight you’ve been holding. you sigh, looking at him; his eyes never leave yours. 

“maybe you’re right,” you say slowly.

“of course, i’m right,” he scoffs, a smirk creeping onto his face, but the warmth in his eyes makes you want to kiss the smug look right off of it.

“big talk for a hermes, castellan,” you challenge, leaning in closer with a playful grin.

luke smirks, quick to respond. “that’s not the only big thing, baby.”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out like music in the morning air. it’s the hardest you’ve laughed since before summer camp, and in that moment, you realised just how much you’ve missed this.