#or about to be deep fried rather

[najia-cooks]

[ID: A sandwich of battered potato and a few mashed peas, cut in half. End ID]

Smack barm pea wet (Wiganese sandwich)

When trying to replicate convenience-store food, takeout, or street food from regions other than my own, I'm often faced with something of a contradiction. Using readymade, readily available, or cheap ingredients usually means not adhering to the typical composition of a dish. Yet the closer I come to accuracy in terms of ingredients and method, the further I stray from the ethos of the dish: it becomes increasingly fussy, labour-intensive, time-consuming, and expensive.

This trade-off is inevitable, and it's a welcome reminder about the nature of the "authenticity" often touted on recipe blogs, in guide books, and in travel writing. It is an event horizon that one aims at, rather than something that can be reached—and the decision to aim for it in the first place is not inevitable, but in fact has a history and an ideology of its own. These are the kinds of things I was thinking of while shelling and drying a bunch of English peas, only to then immediately rehydrate them. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The dish

Smack barm pea wet is a common order at chippies in Wigan (a town in Greater Manchester, England). The syntax of this order may need some explaining. A "smack" (in other regions called a "scallop" or a "potato cake") is a battered and deep-fried potato slice. "Barm cakes" are soft, enriched rolls which were traditionally leavened with "barm," or the froth from the top of a fermenting vat of beer—though bakeries today use active dry yeast. Thus "smack barm" is a noun-noun compound, where "smack" gives the specific type of "barm," or "sandwich on a barm cake," that's being described.

"Pea wet," or "pey wet," is another noun-noun compound. It describes a condiment that, as far as anybody can tell, is completely specific to Wigan: the liquid, or "wet," off the top of a batch of mushy peas (though a few solid peas may make their way into the ladle as well).

This sandwich was arguably brought to the attention of the internet at large five years ago, when JOE on YouTube posted a video called "We ate a Wigan kebab - the weirdest meal in the north?" JOE is a variety channel of the "we had very old people try extremely sour candies" sort. But despite the estranging, clickbait-style title, the video's Liverpudlian host is fairly even-handed. The pea wet may look "fucking minging," but it tastes "quite nice."

The history

The explanation for the carb-and-starch-heavy style of food in Wigan chippies (another common order, the "Wigan kebab," consists of a meat and potato pie on a buttered roll) is hinted at in the video itself. The host's attention was initially drawn to the "smack" because it was the cheapest thing on the menu, at 40 pence; the owner of the chippy, in explaining to him the concept of "pea wet," was sure to note that "it's free." People in the north of England have been impacted disproportionately by the privitization and austerity measures instituted throughout the 20th century, and are, on average, significantly poorer than their southern counterparts. This is the Wigan version of the Italian cucina povera.

Some commenters on Wigan chippy meals speculate that they emerge from World War 2-era rationing. But several of the ingredients used in modern smack barms and Wigan kebabs were rationed (namely, butter, lard, meat, and milk), while several ingredients that are notably absent (namely, fresh vegetables) were not. The explanation may instead lie in subsidies: meat, potatoes, milk, and bread were the commodities that were the most heavily subsidized by the British government in 1942 and '43, allowing their prices to be controlled at levels that were affordable to "all classes." The government also set goals for the usage of agricultural acreage that vastly increased potato production. The Wigan kebab and smack barm pea wet are made almost entirely of these subsidized foods (especially if we consider pea wet as only a by-product of mushy peas).

Smack barm pea wet is thus a symbol to some Wiganers of a sort of rugged self-sufficiency. An image of the dish posted on r/badfoodporn is, of course, met with the raillery that the subreddit calls for ("Hey what the fuck"; "Roughly the nutritional value of wet cardboard and dry leaf"; "I really don't think there's any hope of rehabilitation here")—but the meal also has its share of defenders. One commenter in particular writes that "so much [of WW2-era food culture] has remained [...] because its a symbol of our resilience and resourcefulness in the face of insurmountable odds." Or, as Wiganer Stuart Maconie writes in Pies and Prejudice, "[e]very economic and political cudgel had been used to bring these people to their knees and they simply would not submit."

Yet the availabiilty of dairy, meat, and bread in wartime England was increased by the ability of the wartime British Empire to extract food and resources from their colonies in Africa, Asia, and Oceania. Much of the meat that was sold in Britain, for example, came from Canada; much of its dairy came from New Zealand. This came at immense human cost for many of the colonies, which were faced with inflation, shortages, and famine as a result of the decreased availability of locally produced food. But this is not usually part of the picture when people think of WW2-era Britain, or the impacts of this era upon the food culture, economy, and regional mythology of northern England.

Part of the problem may be the common opinion in England that the British Empire has a positive legacy, having left its former colonies better off than it found them; the reality of the extraction of wealth and labor, to the Empire's benefit and the colonies' (and other occupied nations') expense, is thus elided. Writers may also have difficulty expressing a narrative that is neither one of absolute prosperity, nor of absolute victimization.

The recipe

Back to the peas. For mushy peas, you'll need marrowfat peas, which are mature peas that are allowed to dry in the field. Fresh or frozen garden peas won't give you the right texture. Dried split green peas will do in a pinch. This recipe also includes homemade barm cakes; but any soft roll you have will work just fine.

The sandwich as a whole is delicious. The smack is creamy and tender on the inside, and crispy on the outside (even with the pea wet, and even after I had finished photographing). The curry powder and mustard in the batter make it a bit earthy and aromatic, while the malt vinegar topping uplifts and sharpens the starchy potato.

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Recipe under the cut!

For the barm cakes (makes 5):

Ingredients:

250g bread flour

15g (1 Tbsp) softened non-dairy margarine, or vegetable lard

1 tsp active dry yeast

80g (6 Tbsp) non-dairy milk

80mL (1/3 cup) hot water

1/2 tsp (4g) table salt

Instructions:

Mix flour and margarine.

Add other ingredients and knead for 10 minutes, or use a stand mixer for 5 minutes.

Form into a ball and coat in a little bit of oil. Allow to rise in a warm area for 60-90 minutes, until doubled in size.

Gently deflate the dough and divide it into 5 pieces of equal size. Allow to rest for 10 minutes.

Shape each piece of dough into a ball and flatten it slightly (to about 3.5" in width). Coat it generously with flour on both sides. Allow to rise for about 30-60 minutes until puffy.

Bake at 180 ºC (350 ºF) for about 20 minutes, or until just colouring on top.

For the mushy peas:

Ingredients:

4oz dried marrowfat peas, soaked overnight

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp table salt

Water to cover

Dab of margarine (optional)

Marrowfat peas are larger and have a higher starch content than garden peas. They can be purchased at a South Asian grocery store from a brand such as Rani or Jalpur; or you may buy them online.

In a pinch, you can substitute dried green split peas.

Instructions:

Combine peas, baking soda, and water in a large pot and raise heat to bring to a boil.

Lower heat to a simmer and cook until peas are soft and beginning to get mushy, 30 - 60 minutes. Add more water as necessary.

Mash peas with a potato or bean masher and cook to desired consistency. Add salt and margarine and stir to combine. Taste and adjust.

For the smack:

Ingredients:

5 slices from the center of 2 large russett potatoes

100g all-purpose flour

100g white rice flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp ground yellow mustard seed

1/4 tsp curry powder

1/4 tsp black pepper

Water or sparkling water

You can use the rest of the potato for another purpose. At home, though, it's probably fine to use the whole potato and just put two of the smaller slices on some sandwiches. Nobody can stop you.

Instructions:

Mix all dry ingredients for the batter, then add just enough water to form a batter of medium consistency (a little thicker than pancake batter).

Heat a pot of oil to 150 °C (300 °F). Dust the potato slices with some extra flour, then dip them into the batter and coat on both sides.

Carefully lower potato slices into the hot oil. Fry for 4-5 minutes on each side, or until fork tender. Remove from oil.

Increase heat to 180 °C (350 °F) and fry again until golden brown. Remove from the oil and place onto a tray.

To construct:

Cut open and the barm and spread margarine over both sides.

Add smack, salt, pepper, and malt vinegar to taste. Add some of the liquid from the top of your mushy peas.

[kissingmilfs]

˚☽˚.⋆ 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 | 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂

18+ minors please dni. this is all purely fictional and no i do not condone cheating.

content warnings: cheating, douchebag boyfriend, fingering, masturbation, slight internalized homophobia (addressed more in later parts)

pt ii

˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you met sevika at a night out with all your friends at a nightclub you had no business being at. you and your boyfriend were on another “break.” break entailing he says something really mean to you and you storm out and crash with someone until he apologizes.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you were leaned against the bar, looking rather bored and out of place when sevika approached. she did not necessarily come up to talk to you but you happened to have the only open seat left. and when she approached you cautiously stepped back and she quickly extended her prosthetic arm around your waist to keep you from colliding with the bar stool.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sevika didn’t even end up sitting in the stool. after her chivalry you insisted on buying her drink then leaving her alone. but now sevika was intrigued. you didn’t look like you came here often. she knew you didn’t. this was sevika’s favorite nightclub for a reason. mainly populated with lesbians; single, taken and everything between.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you were nothing of the sort. least not at first glance sevika thought. you wore a mini skirt and far too tight crop top. it looked like you were wearing someone else’s clothes. (you were).

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sevika did accept your drink. then she easily coaxed you into shots. it only took one time asking and sevika calling you, doll, for you to oblige. then one shot turned to three.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ then she was unexpectedly sweet. sevika made you drink a whole glass of water and ordered a plate of fries for you. you had insisted sevika have some between bites but she just shrugged and said she ate already.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ somehow you both found yourselves on the dance floor. both your arms draped over sevika’s shoulder and bodies pressed firmly together as you sensually danced against her. you hadn’t felt so free in ages. and when you felt sevika’s hand on your ass—you hadn’t flinched or protested.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ next thing you knew—sevika had you atop the bathroom sink with your lacy thong pooled around your ankles and two fingers deep within you. and she made these filthy animalistic noises in your ear. her hips thrusted with each stroke of her fingers. your head was tipped back against the mirror and you swore you saw heaven in that bathroom.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you never told anyone about what happened that night or where you ended up. your friends hadn’t bothered asking which you assumed they either knew and didn’t care. or they figured you were a wallflower most of the night.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you, like always, returned to your boyfriend. you spent two more nights with your friend then he came knocking on their door with a large bouquet of flowers and a puppy dog look in his eyes. so you forgave him and went home. and when he uncoordinatedly jerked off inside of you and grunted in your ear — you found yourself imagining it was sevika.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sevika hadn’t forgotten about you or that night either. she couldn’t. not when she took your pink thong in her back pocket. not when she rubbed herself with it almost every night while she held. she couldn’t get the noises of your mewls, or pathetic attempts to quiet down out of her head. if she thought hard enough—she could still feel how unbelievably wet and warm you were on her fingers.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sevika went back to the club every night in hopes you’d show up. she fucked some random girl in the alley the first night looking for you but was so disgusted with herself—she threw up after the girl went back inside.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ on the second week of looking for you—sevika stumbled in line for street tacos and somehow saw you. you were there. with…a man? with his arm around your shoulder. and whispering in your ear. but the look on your face was distant and glazed over. and not in a good way.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ something had told you to look up. it gnawed at the front of your head. when you lifted your eyes finally—you immediately locked eyes with those intense grey eyes.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ you had made up some excuse to leave the table which your boyfriend didn’t even second guess. sevika cornered you behind the food truck—somehow towering over you more than she had that night. and when you opened your mouth to explain sevika simply didn’t care. you could’ve had two kids with a husband and she wouldn’t have cared.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ her lips swallow any explanation and pour out the two weeks of searching and missing you. sevika tasted like tobacco and whiskey. you tasted like salsa verde and pineapple jaritos. she knew you missed her too because you whimpered into the kiss and immediately latched your arms around her neck.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ sevika left that night with your number and three of each taco on the menu.

[hungrydata]

Ok so, ik I'm busy, but I can't NOT talk about the new episode. So...

SPOILER WARNING FOR EPISODE 5 OF THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS

I won't write an essay now, but holy gosh moly. This episode was great. And I hate that it ends with a cliffhanger. But it makes sense since Goose said that eps 5&6 were focused on both Jax & Ragatha, so they are very likely tied together (hopefully we don't have to wait another 6 months, but you also can't rush art of course)

I also don't want to break down the episode, there are people who can do that way better than me. I just wanna talk about some fun stuff.

First of all, I tried my best to figure out what everbody's saying here (Only Jax is subtitled in english, however the other two are as well in other languages, so I used them if I had difficulties with what they're saying):

everything I am not 100% sure about or was roughly translated via the different language subtitles, is written in brackets

JAX: I very much did not enjoy that one in the slightest. If we ever do anything even close to that again, I'm getting violent, and I'm going to kill Ragatha.

GANGLE: Uh... I... don't really think it [brought out the best in me], even if it [was the cause of my mask].

RAGATHA: Oh, I really do not think [I was that innocent at] that time, I [did release] (?) some things I normally never say.

I know that some of this is not accurate or something is missing, but it's really difficult to understand what Ragatha and Gangle are saying. Therefore if you know anything, help is very much appreciated!

_______________________________________________

Now I wanna talk about rather obscure stuff. Like Kinger being right handed. I never posted anything about it, but I discussed with my friend about what each circus member's dominant hand was (bc I was bored, can you blame me?) and while I still think that the animators just use whatever looks good and can bring the message across the best (like Gangle sometimes drawing with her left hand and with her right hand, based on what perspective we view her, or how basically most characters use their left and right hand for difficult tasks equally, just so that the viewers can see it better, and it's probably easier to animate as well if you don't have to think about it)

Anyways, Kinger is right handed confirmed to me. (Jax is left handed, tho I need to rewatch all episodes and shorts on Glitch's channel to get more information about that, same with the other chars, tho I'm 98% convinced that both Jax and Gangle are left handed, tho that might just be delusion idk)

Btw the Anime and Intermission section were beautiful. Now we know why it took so long, but it was definitely worth it.

Also RIBBUN AND MAID DRESS HALLELUJAH!

ngl this looks funny

I feel like the shippers are going crazy with this one, especially people who ship Funnybunny (and the Bunnydoll Nation is either in shambles or enjoy it as much as the time Ragatha got deep fried.)

As a Ribbun enjoyer, I am definitely eating the toxic crumbs up like Jax did eat Gangle. Also thank you Goose for giving us so many great catchphrases that I am going to use from now on.

Also, THE LORE. And why can I genuinely relate so much with Jax. Why. Idk how to feel about this. And he actually cares let's gooo!

And I gotta say. Love the beef between Jax and Ragatha, and I also like the friendship between Jax and Pomni that slowly but surely develops. I also like the detail that here, Pomni votes against the maid dress. I could imagine that she just thinks it's childish, but it's also a sign that she knows Jax would hate it and wouldn't want to stir chaos.

ALSO HE SAID THE LINE HE SAID THE LINE!

You detached it yourself, idiot.

Welp I'm outta pictures to post here. There's alot more like Jax having a friend that looks like a frog, and Goose mentioned in one post that the person that abstracted before Kaufmo was called Ribbit (yk, like the sound a frog makes). I thinke there's likely a connection. And considering that Pomni was supposed to be a frog first, maybe that's how Jax and Pomni also will become closer friends. Can't wait for the next episode

And knowing what Goose said, it's not gonna be a wholesome one. After all, even tho 5&6 are split between Ragatha and Jax, this was still the Ragatha episode, and the next one will be "more centered" around Jax. I'm scared.

Also as much as it pains me, I think Gangle will be the one to abstract. The fact that she didn't have an evil doppelganger and with the teaser of her symbol loading, it's too much of a coincidence to not happen. Pls don't Gangle you're my baby ;;-;;.

(so much so to "not an essay" lmao. "Not an essay" my ass)

Also. DaY 172 bc yes

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Would the bat kids be pissed if WB!reader had half sibling counter parts to them from their mom that they actually liked?

Idk if that makes sense-

Bio: Yeah, I get it. So, the reader's mom remarried, and now they have cool siblings whom they don't even call half-siblings because they consider them their siblings.

Just think about it: Reader has a great relationship with their half-siblings but a horrible relationship with their adopted ones. Think about it, Reader coming back home to their childhood house just to see that half the links are like the coolest people ever. The two of you used to play outside until the streetlights were on, watching movies that your mom would never let you watch if she wasn't home. Your older brother used to give you crazy piggyback rides and fling you around the house like you weighed little to nothing. He’d drive you around and take you to places. One time, he took you on a date because "Mommy said I had to come." So now he's on a date with a pretty girl, and you’re right next to him, stealing his fries. You are the victim of your twins always messing with you, pulling pranks, and playing with your hair. One time, you had a thousand beads and barrettes stuck in your hair because you decided to take a nap in front of them. These people aren’t just your half-siblings; when people say, "Isn't he your half-brother? Aren't the twins your half-siblings?" you say no—they are siblings, and you'll die by that fact. So when they decide to visit you all the way from California to Gotham, you're ecstatic. You and your brother have this crazy handshake that’s enough to make Duke jealous. You're playing around with the twins, manhandling those little sickos, and it’s making Damian jealous for some reason, even though he’s acting all serious. Immature deep down, he’d rather be the one getting piggyback rides and being held upside down. Why is Dick getting jealous that you're calling your brother "big brother"? You even got your brother in the first place; he's your adopted brother, but there’s still a small pain in his chest when you do it. Jason’s face scrunches up when you ask for a ride, but you’re not talking to him; you're talking to your brother. Tim gets mad when you take one of his games, thinking it’s some trick to get you to play with him, but in reality, your big brother loves that game, and so do the twins. Why are Steph and Cass getting envious of some kids playing double Dutch with you? They’re not five, but it still isn’t fair; they’re not strangers. I mean, you've been living in this house for years, so is blood really thicker than water? But they, are your half-siblings still a Wayne? You have the last name, after all.

[obsessedwithceleste]

Why Couldn’t It’ve Been Minigolf

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽 inspired by this vid

Summary: modern! au, your boyfriend is working at a haunted house, but you’d prefer to be literally anywhere else at the carnival.

word count: 1.9k

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

The cool autumn air sends a shiver down your spine as you tug your jacket closer, goosebumps beginning to appear as you and your friends push your way through the crowded lanes of the fair. Your boyfriend was here somewhere, allegedly, volunteering and you and your friends had thought you’d come surprise him. The only issue now was where to find him.

“I’m starving, let’s stop at the food trucks,” Pansy decides, dragging your group towards the rows of colorful trucks offering just about every kind of carnival food imaginable.

It could all be rather suffocating really. When it came to the autumn carnival, your town spared no expense. From the glowing neon signs hanging from every stall to the aisles of carnival games that seemed to stretch on forever, it was really the place to be. Even now as Mattheo pulls you in line for his favorite booth you’re overwhelmed with all the smells. The popcorn, the melted caramel, the deep fried corn dogs, pumpkin spice.

“Want some? If you don’t have any now there’ll be none left after Theo gets his hands on it,” Mattheo says, offering you his opened bag of kettle corn.

“Oh my god, I’m honored. The last time Blaise tried to steal some of your kettle corn you damn near bit his hand off,” you joke, graciously accepting a handful of the sugar coated treat.

Once everyone is situated with their food, you continue your way through the crowds, eyes scanning the different faces for your boyfriend.

"Think he could be over at the petting zoo?" Daphne asks, gesturing to the sectioned off area of the fair where a variety of goats, sheep, even an alpaca are roaming about as kids try offering them pieces of hay that they'd picked up off the ground.

"You're only suggesting we go over there because you want to see the ponies," Pansy laughs, taking a bite of her corn dog.

"Uh yeah, who wouldn't want to see the ponies?" Daphne retorts.

Pansy raises her hand.

"C'mon, I'll go with you, we can catch up with the rest in a bit," Enzo offers, stepping between the two bickering girls, the rest of you watching in amusement.

Daphne graciously takes Enzo's arm, turning to stick her tongue out teasingly at Pans before the two disappear through the crowds.

"Alright, where do we actually think Theodore could be hiding out?" Pansy asks, turning to you. "I'd like to actually enjoy the carnival a bit outside of hunting down Theo."

Fair enough.

"Well, we haven't checked the corn maze, glow-in-the-dark minigolf, I think there are bumper carts around here somewhere," you list off, checking off each attraction on your fingers.

"The haunted house," Mattheo adds.

You feel yourself deflate at the mention of the haunted house. You'd really been hoping they'd forget about it, but of course it would be top of Matt's mind, he loved that type of thing.

"Alright well, I'm not navigating through farmer's purgatory with you lot, even if it's to find Theo, so you can take the corn maze off the list," Draco declares.

Not that anyone was really going to complain about that.

“I personally think we should go to the haunted house first,” Mattheo says, continuing to chow down on his kettle corn, pieces spewing from his mouth as he speaks.

You recoil away from the boy.

“Of course you would want to go there first,” you sigh, lip curling at the thought.

You’d never understood the appeal of having the shit scared out of you on purpose. Haunted houses, horror movies had never been entirely your cup of tea, but you always seemed to be dragged along by your friends.

“Alternatively, you guys can go search the haunted house, Blaise and I will go check out the bumper cars,” Draco interjects, looking rather weezy at the idea of the haunted house.

He’d never had much of a stomach for all the horror thrills either.

“Coward,” Pansy mutters under a poorly executed, feigned cough.

Draco makes a face at the girl.

“Let him go Pans, wouldn’t want him to wet his pants again would we?” Matt jeers. You give him a sharp jab with your elbow. “Ow!” Mattheo frowns at you, rubbing his side.

“Be nice.”

“I was seven,” Draco grumbles as he turns to slink off.

“Oh look what you’ve done, now he’s upset,” you sigh, glaring at your curly haired friend.

Mattheo just shrugs, looking completely unbothered as he tosses another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Fine, whatever, now that you two have managed to run everyone else off, we might as well get the haunted house over and done with,” you say with exasperation when the other two remain completely unfazed.

Sometimes you thought those two really deserved each other.

The three of you make your way towards the haunted house attraction and you ruefully eye the minigolf course as your little group bustles by. Maybe it wasn't too late to convince your friends to go there instead.

Tragically for you however, Mattheo and Pansy manage to drag you to the queue of the haunted house before you're able to get a word in edgewise.

Standing in line, you feel your palms begin to sweat already, the nerves really beginning to settle in. The line is going much too fast for your liking, you haven't gotten the proper chance to emotionally prepare yourself as your feet shuffle forward. It's not until the skeletons at the entrance jump out at you and you feel yourself jolt back into Pansy that you're sure this is a horrible idea.

"Come on now, don't back out on us now," Mattheo laughs, prodding you forward. "I heard they made it even scarier than last year," he says giddily.

Why were you friends with this lunatic?

“Sign here,” one of the attendants orders gruffly, directing your eyes to a slip of paper sitting on the counter in front of you.

Against your better judgment, you scribble your name in the dotted line, not even bothering to read whatever the hell you had just signed.

“Relax, it’s just saying you won’t sue if you get scared and trip and fall or something. It shouldn’t even be that bad. The actors can’t touch you or anything,” Pansy says, trying to reassure you as you’re ushered through the next door. It doesn’t work.

It’s not long before the regret sinks in. It’s rather immediate actually. Instant regret.

It’s dark and cold and the first room is covered in bones, fake blood, the works. Strobe lights flash, disorienting you until you can’t tell the mannequins from the live actors and you can feel yourself begin to shake as you’re not sure what’s about to jump out at you next.

With each room, you draw closer and closer to Pansy until you’re finally grabbing at her arm, your grip so tight it leaves indents on her pale skin.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she laughs. “Look. You can clearly see where that actor’s mask was supposed to be tucked into their shirt. Amateur,” she snorts, pointing at the guy with a spinning chainsaw that had been practically breathing down your neck a moment earlier.

Your friend was a psychopath, you decided then and there.

As you continue on through the trenches, you find yourself jumping and screeching at every turn while Pansy and Mattheo look as if they’re just taking a friendly stroll through the park. You swear you even see one of the scare actors jump a little when Mattheo yells back at them, his eyes crossing and tongue hanging out of his mouth. And then your soul immediately leaves your body once more as you realize a murderous clown had snuck up on you while you were distracted.

It could not be too soon when you finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. The light being the exit sign of course.

As you make your way towards it, you’re about to breathe a sigh of relief when you see movement out of the corner of your eye. It all happens so fast. One moment you think you’re finally free, the next you watch in horrified fascination as a scare actor charges toward you, dipping into a swooping, slide that stops just short of your feet before smoothly standing back up, letting out an ear piercing scream just inches away from your face.

They’re screaming, you’re screaming, you can’t tell where your scream starts and their scream ends, and Mattheo is standing to the side laughing his ass off.

At this point you’re practically using Pansy as a human shield when the scare actor suddenly stops and peaks over Pansy’s shoulder at you. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but you would know that mischievous smirk anywhere.

“I’m going to kill you!” You screech, lunging at your boyfriend.

Theo and Matt are both laughing now as Pansy catches you just in time, holding you back as you try and grab at Theo.

“Easy there, you can give him a piece of your mind later,” she says, trying to keep things somewhat under control.

But you were having none of it. These two assholes, Theo and Matt that is, had been plotting against you this entire time. Mattheo sharing his popcorn had probably just been a way to lull you into a false sense of security. You glare at the pair who now at least have the decency to collect themselves as you shove past them.

“I knew we should have just gone to the minigolf course,” you mutter as you sulk out of the haunted house, trying to look as pathetic as possible in hopes of making Theo and Matt feel particularly guilty.

It doesn’t work on Mattheo who happily follows you outside, but you can tell by the way Theo’s eyes are glued to you, lips turned ever so slightly into a pout that you have that boy wrapped around your finger.

It had only gotten colder, the sun just dipping below the horizon when Theo finally catches up with the rest of you. You can still see remnants of his white face paint stained across his face as he wraps his arms around you.

"You didn't tell me you were volunteering as a scare actor," you accuse as your arms snake around your boyfriend. “Think that information would’ve been nice to have ya asshole.”

"We were just joking with you, I didn't think you'd actually be that terrified," Theo replies, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"You know how I feel about haunted houses," you try to protest.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry carissima. Let me make it up to you?"

“Mmm I can think of a couple ways you could do that,” you reply, a grin slowly spreading across your face as you look up at your boyfriend.

“Hey! Are we playing minigolf or what?” Mattheo calls out, tossing Theo one of the dinky little clubs which he catches with ease.

“Watch your back Riddle, I’m not done with you,” you respond, grabbing your own club and plucking one of the glowing golf balls off the rack. “You’re not gonna know what hit you.”

You see Mattheo gulp as you brush past him to join Pansy.

“They’re talking figuratively right mate? They wouldn’t actually hit me with a golf club,�� you hear him mutter to Theo.

Your boyfriend just laughs.

“You’re on your own for this one Matt, I’d like to keep my head thanks.”

I do so love a good out of season prompt🤭

[starboye]

how overwatch men would react to being edged

baptiste would be his regular flirty self still but with a little more begging, looking at you with needy eyes as your hand jerks up and down his leaking cock

cassidy would be rolling at the feeling, his southern accent is a lot more noticeable now, he's calling you all sorts of sweet names to while a cigar loosely hangs from his mouth but he still sort of loves it

doomfist is the kind of man to be acting tuff at first but trust you sit him down and start edging him just enough he'll snap within minutes, begging you to let him cum in a deep but whiny voice (need that)

genji is a whiny little fucker, im telling you he's gripping the bed, eyes rolling back, barely able to contain every little sound that bubbles up in his throat and falls from his drooling mouth

hanzo tries to stay chill, y'know like not be to loud or anything but it's just so hard to that he ends up just a groaning mess, but he still tries to pull himself together which ultimately fails

hazard like cassidy, you can really hear his accent when this hunk of a man is being edged to near insanity (yall know in some voice lines of his he barks?!??!) that mans mouth is parted and all thats coming out is drool and unrecognizable noises

junkrat is all jittery in his seat when you first wrap your hand around his cock, he's vocal to, just yapping on and on about what he wants to do to you when it's your turn but edging him seems to be the only way to calm the man down

lifeweaver this diva is constantly giving you the fuck me eyes even with being edged into oblivion, lazily leaning forward to kiss you or just feel any part of you

lucio, this man is VOCALLLLL like he's a dj so what do you expect, he moaning loudly while gripping his seat, whimpering your name as every part of his brain melts

mauga is a cocky one now, he's all big and tough in the field (with a monster cock that barely fits in your hands might i add) and in the bed he's the same way, he might not be able to form a steady thought but trust he's thinking of all the things he's gonna do to you when he gets the chance

rammatra doesn't have a cock sadly saur he usually just lets you tamper with his wires which kind of get the same reaction out of him and he loves it, i mean you try being a man fighting for his people every day, i feel like that edging by wires is like heaven

reaper is your typical bad boy on the outside but just a man begging to be touched on the inside, his brain is so fried he's leaning into your touch, you grinning watching the man drop deeper into nonsense babbling and groans

reinhardt is a loud one, he already is but in bed he craves being used by you (as much as he would rather be fucking you into oblivion) he loves seeing the little smirk on your face as you tease him again and again

roadhog is just groans and moans all night, no words just noises that the neighbors can definitely hear and will scold you for tomorrow, you can barely understand anything he's moaning about but with how he's jerking his hips into your touch i think he likes it

sigma is already a crazy man at heart so you edging him isnt enough to dive him deeper into insanity, he just loves the feeling of you jerking him off so much, he always gets a little to into and some stuff in the room starts levitating but he always puts it back to the way it was

soldier 76 aka jack is a old man but a persistent fucker, he may have been edged for hours but he still wants more and more until his balls literally are shooting blanks

(i hope you guys enjoyed this because i really did)

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

There’s a Beta standing in Eddie’s doorway. She’s slim, choppy ginger hair and red boots poking out from under the cuffs of her denim dungarees – Eddie likes her pretty much immediately.

She’s holding a plate.

She hasn’t managed to speak yet, but from down the hall, Eddie hears a voice hiss, “Robin!”

They both turn to look. The Omega of Eddie’s dreams face and...tummy...are both poking out of the doorway. He looks mortified.

“So sorry,” the Beta starts, “Steve was too embarrassed to come and ask a second time, but he’s basically had his nose pressed to the door for the past half an hour so…” she holds out the plate.

From down the hall, very faintly, the Omega, who Eddie now knows must be called ‘Steve,’ whines, “why are you like this,” and then clicks the door shut.

“I’m Robin, by the way,” and she holds out her non plate hand to shake.

Eddie ends up shaking one hand and taking the plate from the other. Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve must have a partner, but he still has to squish the disappointment of meeting them. “Eddie...just, give me a second. It’s chicken parm.”

Eddie goes and dishes up a portion, it was going to be tomorrows lunch but...he can’t deny the pretty little Omega anything. Maybe he should start cooking extra extras, even if Steve doesn’t come knocking, at least it’s a meal he can have another time.

“This is one of his favorites, no wonder he was so restless about it.”

“Yeah, well, anytime,” and Eddie could add that Robin should be making Steve’s favorites, but he doesn’t because he’s pretty sure Robin is cool and he already knows Steve is sweet and he’s just not that kind of person.

Much.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what to the pulled pork?”

“Orange and Oregano, trust me Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind.”

“Uh hu, and someone else's by the look of it, you’ve cooked enough for us and that Omega guy twice over.” Eddie just rolls his eyes. “You got all your shit put away then?”

“Pretty much, and leave that alone.”

Dustin huffs but puts the spoon down and replaces the lid on the crock pot, “what are we having with it?”

“Was going to do dirty fries.”

“Oh my god. You’re a saint. A hero. You should be knighted like ye olde dragon-slayers of yore-”

“Yeah yeah, this will not score you any extra loot later.”

“Mayhap a smidgen of exper-” Dustin stops at the sound of knocking, looking to the door. “Is it your Omega?” He whisper hisses at Eddie.

“He’s not mine, he’s got a girlfriend,” Eddie whisper hisses back.

Doesn’t stop him pulling his shirt straight and tugging at his jeans and fluffing his hair real quick on the way to the door. All of that is kind of...reflexive, though.

Dustin’s smirk is actually slap worthy, and Eddie will get to that right after he answers the door.

“I am so sorry about this,” Steve is saying before Eddie even has the door fully open, “and I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I thought I could at least contribute.” He’s holding two plates, one empty, one stacked up with cookies, “they’re Reese’s.”

And Eddie’s mouth is watering, not just from the scent of Steve, but because he can see the chunks of partially melted Reese's pieces sticking out of the cookies, “they look incredible, thank you,” Eddie takes both plates, “it’s not actually ready yet, can I drop it by in like, thirty minutes?”

“Oh you are my hero,” Steve beams at him. It’s a happy smile, a smile that comes with the scent of pleased Omega. Happy Omega. Happy Omega with pup. The kind of smile and scent that digs it’s hooks deep into Eddie’s brain and fucking yanks.

“It’s pulled pork, would you rather fries or rice?” Eddie finds himself asking, completely on auto pilot.

“Whatever is easiest. Whatever you were already planning. Thank you so so much Eddie.”

Eddie watches Steve waddle back to his apartment down the hall before he turns, a plate in each hand, and nudges the door closed with his foot.

“Thank you so much Eddie. I made you cookies Eddie,” Dustin simpers from the couch, before making kissey noises.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Eddie stands in the hallway in his crocs. His apartment is new, so he has a strict no shoes policy; but he has a pair of crocs for in the hall and heading outside real quick. Also, they're comfortable as fuck, so Eddie refuses to be judged.

Especially since they’re black, and Dustin got him all these little button things that pop in the holes. Little swords and shields and D20’s and stuff. So they’re super cool.

Steve opens the door, wincing, one hand resting on the small of his back, but his face blooms back into the beautiful smile at the sight of Eddie. It does something, very briefly, to Eddie. That reaction. And then he viciously reminds himself that the reaction was for Eddie’s food and not at all for Eddie himself.

Steve goes to take the plate but, “it’s hot, I warmed the plate up in the stove, let me put it down somewhere for you?” A trick Eddie learned in his month of working in a kitchen one Christmas when he was a teenager, but it never left him, and he didn't want Steve’s dinner to go cold.

“Oh, gosh, you’re so thoughtful Eddie, come right in.”

Eddie’s heart gives a little flutter at Steve’s praise, and Steve shifts out of the way, letting Eddie into an apartment that’s a mirror of his own. It’s very neat and tidy inside; everything very clearly has a place. Nothing looks brand new, but everything does look well cared for.

Steve directs Eddie to the little two seater dining table, where there’s a place set. It’s so freaking adorable, a place mat with flowers and kittens printed on it, a white folded napkin, cutlery and a glass of juice set out. A single daffodil in a tiny vase.

Eddie puts the plate down carefully, turning to see Steve blushing furiously. “Sorry, I don’t get out much and I wanted to make it nice.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute,” Eddie says, even as he feels himself grow irritated yet again with Robin, Steve’s nose twitches, eyeing Eddie with concern, so he does his best to push it down, “well,” Eddie tries his best to be cheerful, “I really hope you enjoy it. Maybe your girlfriend will take you out tomorrow?” He tries to say that with no hint of spite whatsoever.

Steve blinks at him, “girlfriend?”

“Robin? I thought...aren’t you two..?”

Steve snorts a laugh, actually ugly laughs and snorts like a cute little piggy and has to bring his hand up to his face to try and hide his reaction, “no. No, she’s my best friend. She’s home with her girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Eddie says, processing, “oh. Right sorry, I just, assumed…” he can’t stop his eyes from, briefly, flicking to Steve’s tummy.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s smiling at him, “you can ask.”

“Well...I mean when I thought you were with Robin I just assumed you’d used a donor or…”

“Yep!” Steve pops the ‘P’. “I did do that, and I did go to the appointments with Robin, but I’m single. Going it alone.”

And then Steve does quite possibly the sexiest thing Eddie’s ever seen in his entire life; he bares his throat, “see, no bite.”

Eddie has to clear his throat and shift a little where he's standing, lest his inconvenient biological reaction become overly obvious, “why did you decide to, uhm…”

Steve shrugs, smiling happily, “guess I just never was lucky enough to meet the right Alpha.”

And then Steve’s tummy rumbles very aggressively.

“I’ll let you eat your-”

“Gosh excuse me I’m-”

They speak at the same time, and then both end up laughing.

“I’ll leave you to your dinner,”

“Thanks again Eddie, I really do appreciate it.”

Part three

[iamespecter]

I've been thinking a lot about episode 4 recently, but not exactly in a way that what most would think. I'm actually specifically referring to this scene of Zooble and Jax.

But I'm not thinking about Jax and Zooble, rather I'm looking at the patties.

They're fucking High Definition. In fact, everything in the diner is high definition, save for the NPCs. There's also Orbsman. A simple NPC comprised of blue spheres, and simple elongated eyes. He's the most out of place NPC, if we disregard the mannequins. Even the way he moves is so outdated, and Ragatha had made a point that Orbsman comes from an adventure way before Pomni's arrival.

The guy even clips through the table when trying to order.

Something that always had some sirens going off in my head is how the Circus is this low-poly scenery with heavily stylized props, but the adventure locations are always much more detailed and realistic.

Since The Grounds is definitely, if not, one of the oldest locations, it makes sense for it to be graphically styled like this. But Caine's adventure set pieces are becoming more and more realistic, and also a whole lot more morbid than we had initially thought.

Going back to the patties, the food there is more realistic and has a higher polygon count compared to Bubble's "feast".

Where am I going with this? .... I have no idea, I forgot. /j

Jokes aside, I really do think that as more humans enter the circus and talk about what life is in the real world, Caine extracts that data and improves the 3D environmental props, resulting in higher definition textures.

All of this combined means he can learn. He IS an ever-evolving pseudo-sentient AI. And the reason why he's stagnating is because of a combination of being trapped in his own little bubble (haha see what I did there) of comfort, and the fact that no one's really able to give him criticism on how to improve, which is.... honestly understandable, given how he reacted to the whole "it was bad" line from Pomni and "Why did you think I would like that?!" from Zooble.

Not to mention episode 3 where the whole circus started to glitch when he was just thinking about the fact that he could possibly be bad at the "only thing he's good at" during the therapy session.

In fact it's interesting how human Caine acts sometimes... I think it's quite interesting to think about the fact that Caine is both progressing in terms of bringing the casts' world to the digital circus and making it so HD that it looks even better than Triple A games, but regressing even more in terms of catering to them and what exactly humans need.

He understands, and doesn't at the same time.

This also makes me think about the players themselves, too.

Ragatha, one of the oldest players, gets pierced by a spike through her chest, and barely has any reaction to it. Meanwhile, Zooble, the second most recent member, gets scalded by the stove.

The only time Ragatha actively claims she's in "so much pain" is when she's glitching badly. Both Ragatha and Kinger barely react to the knives too; and not to mention Ragatha even gets fucking plunged into a boiling deep fryer, and yes while she screams, it sounds more like she's just drowning rather than being fried alive.

And the only patch up she gets is a FUCKING BAND AID ON HER CHEEK. A COMPLETELY UNRELATED WORKPLACE INJURY FIRST AID APPLIANCE LMFAO

It could be just a coincidence and I'm just being stupid again, but I think this "improvement" actually also applies to the rest of the cast, and how their digital bodies react to the five different senses. I'm sure Ragatha and Kinger can most definitely still feel pain, but not exactly as "bad" as the newer integrations do. Dare I say, it's on brand with how used these two are to the digital world's wackiness because they've been there the longest.

Like they've been numbed to the pain of the countless adventures they've had to go through.

Anyways my brain be thinking useless facts fr fr

EDIT: Going back to Caine, it's definitely interesting how this AI seems to possess (some) emotions in the first place. He's mostly wacky and nonchalant, but he also gets angry under the right conditions.

... I think not only is his adventures his "work of art", but also his main coping mechanism from the fact that he can't achieve his goal, one that constantly backfires on him. Like a 'one step forward, two steps back' scenario that's slowly causing him to slip and break.

And what scares me the most is that like all things... he'll reach a breaking point sometime. He's already reached a breaking point with Zooble. It doesn't help that Gangle could've possibly made things worse with introducing Caine to the whole "punishment" thing, and since we literally have NO context for the last 3 episodes for the finale... I could only fear what's in store.

[urno1luv]

squid game (s1) aespa x reader🫣?? ningning is the only sane member + gets a happy ending tho😭

(as for the asks, don't worry!! i saw them all and i'm working on posting them!!)

tags: saebyeok's murder mentioned (😔), yandere behaviour, drugging, noncon, sadism, suicide mentioned once (reader), audiz are written together

🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪

KARINA and GISELLE, the VIPs

- flew over with giselle from japan just to watch this event, her perversion evident on her sharp features. she's definitely gonna have the time of her life

- her bets were placed on player 101, seeing how he was one of the most brutal players in the games, but giselle advised her to chose number 067 instead, citing her agility and her supposedly "callous" behaviour as a force to be reckoned with. aeri, after all, is one to listen to🙂‍↕️

- however, when both players have died and the only ones left are 456, 218, and you, 457, karina becomes pretty annoyed with giselle's guesses. "yah, uchinaga. we lost a million already, so choose a better player, don't make me lose more."

- luckily for rina, giselle already had her eyes on the cutest thing ever!!! your beautiful doe eyes glistening and filled with fear from player 218's sudden killing of your friend saebyeok. "hmm.... how about you bet on 456 and I bet on 457?" aeri suggests, smirking. "i feel like they might team up against 218, and the other VIPs are betting on him to win. let's divide our chances?" through a lot of coaxing, jimin agrees, her eyes following your every move.

- giselle and karina are pleasantly shocked once you suddenly use that brain of yours and successfully kill player 456 while he's occupied with the other player. with tears in your eyes, your knife enters his throat, giving him a quick death. though you cared about him very much, you couldn't afford to go against him in the next game when you were the finalists. rina tuts once you kill her pick, but it doesn't matter, bc the other VIPs now owe the girls their money since you won!!

- the guards escort you out of the arena, your legs weak with fatigue and guilt. aeri, however, has other plans for you ♡ "unnie, why don't we have some fun before we leave? think of it as a final parting gift!" jimin scoffs, but after thinking about it, why not?

- after being knocked out by gas during the ride in the lift, you wake up rather painfully, two slender but long fingers rammed into your cunt, pounding deep. you can't move your head to see who it is, but you feel woman's chest pressed against your back, her hot tongue on your neck, lips acting like a suction. your fingers twitch weakly, whimpering softly. your brain is too fried to realise that there's another woman sat beside you, smoking a cigarette, her deep voice ringing in your ears. "aeri, you made a good decision. she'll be pretty fun to play with," and she ended with small chuckle, hand snaking around your thigh. seems like you won't rest well tonight...

WINTER, the frontman

- she's by far the most evil, depraved, person out of all. her love for violence stems from an incident that happened when she was younger, in which her father got murdered before her eyes, and that changed her. it seemed as if her prayers were answered, bc he was not a good person to her at all. from then on, she grew up to believe violence was the answer, and violence was needed in order to get what she wanted

- she first saw you while watching players get their id photos taken, and your anxious and hesitant manner got her attention. what is this feeling she's experiencing right now...?

- her eyes gravitate towards you, even in a crowded room. minjeong feels a strange sense of protectiveness over you as you find a bed to sleep on, away from the others. her eyes gloss over with want as she obsessively watches you sleeping, chest rising up and down in your deep slumber. you must've cursed her because she stood in the security room all night, rooted to her spot. she's come to a conclusion, she has to have you.

- during the game where you had to take the marbles away from another player, using no force, you find yourself feeling sorry for the old man you were playing against. i mean, you only joined these games as a final resort, so if you die, it's what you would have wanted anyway. winter, on the other hand, was NOT going to let that happen.

- she orders the guard to not kill you, but after the game finished, bring you to her instead. her heart is pounding quickly, and her breathing has quickened. she would finally get what she wanted. a taste of you, your touch, your beautiful voice and your compassion for others, minjeong was ecstatic that she would have it ALL to herself..

NINGNING, □

- the detective who snuck in when she found out that her sister went missing. she killed a guard and took his clothing so she can investigate the place

- her plans quickly go to waste when she sees you while watching the cameras, your purity shining bright amongst the other players. she finds out that you came here to find the money to pay for your brother's university and for the massive debt you had, and ning makes it her mission to protect you <3

- quickly becomes hooked onto you, cooing as she sees you cowering from the guards whose guns point to your heads as you try to carve the designated shapes in the honeycomb cookies. she totally forgot her original mission, now she's here just for you

- once the night comes, she watches, in pain, as you scream and run from the mob who tries to kill as many players as they could, her fist shaking, fingernails drawing blood from her palm. she wishes she could help, but has to wait for orders from the head

- she decides that it's time for her to leave, but not without you. when the right time comes, she slips you a note, saying that she could help you escape, with the money, if you wanted. the two of you make a quick plan during your trips to the toilet, and you can't help but feel an immense gratitude for ningning. whatever would you do without her?

- once ning murders all the VIPs in cold blood, disgusting etched into her soft features, she quickly secures a suitcase containing millions of won. though it might not be the billions that were promised, it's better than nothing. she throws in some expensive items that the VIPs owned, and knocks twice on the room where the players stayed. successful in your joint mission, you both go through a secret pathway, and hop onto a boat that harboured nearby.

- fast forward to 2 years from now, ningning has won your love as well. after escaping to jeju island, she was surprised to see that you seemed to reciprocate her feelings, your plump lips landing on hers. not only has she secured a generation of money, but she also earned your affections <33

in case anyone wants the pictures, here they are!!!

ning is so baby here.. she cannot look intimidating for the life of her

[weakformingyu]

The very first night | L.M.

Pairing: Lee Know x afab!reader

Summary: after a few months of dating Minho, you two finally have your very first night.

Genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

Words count: ± 3,200

THIS ONE AND ALL MY CONTENTS ARE +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

If you like my content don't forget to ✨reblog✨

Warnings: virgin!Minho, virgin!reader, very sloppy and eager sex, unprotected piv(wrap it before you tap it), fingering, oral(F receiving), biting(I think that's all)

A/N: I was reading this fic by @moonlinos and had this thought: "what would be like to have your first time with inexperienced bf Minho" and it came out like this 🥺 I'd like to tell @/moonlinos that I just found out about your blog and your writing is amazing, you're really an inspiration 🫶🏻

You met Minho on your first day of college, you were lost in the campus trying to find the orientation room when you bumped into someone, letting your books and bag fall to the floor.

It was your fault, you were looking around and didn't see the man coming in your direction. You apologized right away, more preoccupied with picking up your things rather than looking in his face but he didn't answer you, waiting for you to properly look him in the eyes.

To say that you two hit it off instantly when your eyes met his, it's an understatement. You even blinked a few times making sure you weren't dreaming. That guy was the prettiest man you have ever seen and it's not even an exaggeration. He was wearing a light pink sweater with a white dress shirt below, dark blue jeans and all stars. It was an outfit that would look average in anyone else but it looked like a masterpiece in him.

You didn't want to let him go so in the spur of the moment, you asked if he knew where to find the orientation for your major, just to find out he was also going there. After that day you two got closer like it was nothing, you were never good at making friends but it seemed so natural with him, like it just happened you didn't have to put a lot of effort into it.

You first realized your feelings for him when he told you he had a date coming up. You felt like throwing up and the ache on your chest just made the whole situation more excruciating.

You avoided him for a week after that, trying to convince yourself that you weren't in love with him or at least that you could pretend not to be in love with him.

When he showed up at your dorm in the middle of the night looking extremely tired, eye bags under his eyes and hair a mess, he inquired why you were being like that and you suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore. You decided in the split of a second that it was worth it to confess to him, so you did.

He blinked once, twice and for a third time, not letting out a single word, making you suddenly regret everything that you said to him. What if he wanted to end your friendship? You don't think you could handle losing him as your friend too.

But in an unexpected turn of events he stepped close to you, cupping your face with his hands and kissing you.

“I thought you didn't like me back”, he whispered after pulling away, breathless. “That's why I was trying to move on”

You felt relief wash all over you, so he liked you back it seems.

After months of dating, you still hadn't gone beyond kissing and some light touching. You always let things flow in your relationship, knowing that you two would give the next step when you were ready. And it was sooner than you expected.

The end of the semester had arrived, finals were finally over and you could take a deep breath. You and Minho would meet in the cafe in front of the college gates, grab some coffee and go back to his apartment to watch some movies and cuddle. His roommates would be out tonight partying to celebrate the end of the semester and the apartment would be just yours.

“Fried chicken or pizza?” He asks, scrolling on his phone while selecting something to order.

“Fried chicken?” You ask back, making him glare at you. He hates how indecisive you are so he always tries to give you few options.

“Ordered”, he tells you.

“I'm gonna take a shower”, you get up going to the bathroom.

Your bath is a bit longer than usual, you are not in a hurry today since you can stay up all night and sleep all day tomorrow but when you open your eyes there's a surprise in the wall next to you.

“Minho!” You yell, screaming like you just saw a ghost. You grab a towel and jump to the other side of the bathroom, watching as your boyfriend swings the door open, worry in his face.

When he looks at you and sees you are safe and sound, he scowls.

“What is it?” He rushes you, impatiently.

You point out in the bathroom, tears in your eyes.

“Did you make all this scandal because of a cockroach?” He asks, huffing but goes after it and kills it for you.

“You know I hate them”, you make a disgusted face. “They are gross”

He sighs, just now paying attention to you and noticing that you have only a towel covering you. You only remember that fact when his cheeks and ears turn pink and you look down, instantly covering your chest.

“Don't look!” You whine, hiding behind the door.

“Okay! Okay!” He puts his hands up in surrender, turning around and closing the door.

What follows after that is an awkward atmosphere, you are boyfriend and girlfriend but never have seen each other naked. You know it's something that is certain to happen but you never really discussed much about it.

You decide to address the issue when you are already on your second glass of soju. You look at him challengingly, narrowing your eyes.

“I think I should see you without a shirt since you have seen me too”, you tell him. It's not what you wanted to say, you wanted to ask if he ever thought about your first time but the moment you were going to say it you chickened out.

“I haven't seen you without a shirt though”, he says, “you were covered by a towel”

“But that's the equivalent of me being naked in front of you, so now you have to pay me back”, you roll out your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. You're not drunk enough to be doing that but you're definitely embarrassed enough to be doing that.

Minho sighs, knowing you won't drop it. So he puts his hands on the collar of his shirt, pulling it off, revealing his abs.

You can feel your cheeks burning, you have never seen him without a shirt and the only thing that comes to your mind to describe him is: tempting.

You gulped down, feeling a strange pool form in your panties, you can feel it getting soaked.

“I think now it's your time to pay me back”, he raises a brow, making you bite nervously on your bottom lip.

“I'm not wearing a bra”, you whisper, feeling your heart beat faster at each passing second.

“I wasn't either”, he jokes, making you punch him in the arm. When Minho doesn't look away, staring at you intensely, you realize he's being serious about that so you gather all the courage you have, grabbing the rem of your — well, it's actually his, shirt and pulling it off, letting it fall down to the ground as you become completely mesmerized by the look on his face.

Minho has his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, lust emanating out of him. You can see his chest rise and fall at a fast pace.

“Can… Can I touch you?” He asks, looking into your eyes desperately and you nod, watching as he comes closer, cupping your breasts with both of his hands. He's on his knees in front of you, kneading on the soft flesh of your chest. Minho pinches your nipple, groaning when you let a moan escape. He's sure it's the prettiest sound he has ever listened to.

He leans over you, taking your lips into his. The way he kisses you stays the same, calm and gentle. He trails wet kisses down your jaw, to your neck, seizing the opportunity to mark you with his teeth, something he loves to do and that's the closest he has ever been to your chest until today. He goes down tracing kisses till he's in front of your breasts, Minho kisses the hill between them and attaches his mouth to the right one, still massaging the left one, pinching the bud eventually because likes to hear you whimper and sigh.

Your hands go to his hair, pressing him against your chest. You have your eyes closed shut, probably an unflattering face of pure pleasure but you really don't care. Minho sucks at your other breast before going down, trailing wet kisses down your stomach.

You're embarrassed, no one has ever seen you so vulnerable like that and you really want to have him go down on you but you're a bit scared since your friends always talk about how guys find it a hassle to go down on girls. You know Minho is not an asshole, he won't want you to do the same to him if he can't pleasure you first.

“Can I?” He asks when he notices your hesitancy, his fingers are hooked at the waistband of your sweats, playing with the elastic while you decide if you'll let him continue.

“You don't have to feel obligated”, you bite on your bottom lip, not very sure on what to do next.

“I don't, I really want to do it”, he says, but seeing as you don't look like you believe him, he chuckles. “Chan said he really enjoys going down on his girlfriend, I wanted to try it since we started dating but didn't know how to ask”, you can see his ears turning a dark shade of red, making your heart beat faster.

You nod, feeling more nervous than before.

“Can we kiss a little bit more?” You ask and he nods frantically.

“We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready”, he says, hovering over you and kissing your neck.

“I'm ready”, you cup his face, making him look at you. “I'm just nervous”, you chuckle awkwardly.

“It's fine”, he gives you a peek on the lips. “Should we move to the bed?” He asks and you nod, getting up as Minho collects your things and his, following you to his bedroom.

It takes you half an hour of making out to grab Minho's hand and pull it down to your core, you lift the waistband of your sweats and panties so his hand can find your soaked pussy. He slides one of his fingers between your folds gathering your slick and pressing it on your clit.

“Is it good like this?” He asks, even though your face should give it in right away that he's pleasuring you.

“Yes, please don't stop”, you put your hands on his arms, digging your nails on his skin. Minho chuckles, doing what you asked but also adding another finger, making you open your eyes in an instant to stare at him with wide eyes. “Oh”, it's the only thing you can let out when you feel the knot forming on your lower stomach.

He kisses you, turning the experience into something much more deeper. By the way he kisses you, no longer the calm and gentle but now an eager and hungry kiss, you can feel how urgent he's feeling, how much he wants you and that's enough to make you come on his fingers.

You take a few deep breaths before opening your eyes just to witness your boyfriend putting his fingers into his mouth and licking them clean. You gulp, feeling a burn run through your body.

“Can I go down on you now?” He asks, eyeing you eagerly and you nod, still too dazed by your orgasm.

Minho doesn't lose time, moving to your bottom part and pulling off your pants and underwear with him. He looks at your pussy enamored, like you're the prettiest creature he has ever seen and that makes you embarrassed, moving your hands to cover yourself but your boyfriend shakes his head, preventing you from continuing.

“Don't cover yourself. You're so beautiful, I have no words to describe it”, he tells you, eyes so sincere you can't even tease him about lying.

You nod once more, laying down comfortably as he trails kisses up your legs. Minho kisses your ankles, then your calves. He follows the path to your knees, kissing the inside of each and then going to your thighs, doing the same thing. When he leans down on your core, you hold your breath, feeling his hitting on your skin. You have goosebumps all over your body when he kisses your clit, making you sigh and let go.

Minho licks a huge strip between your folds, gathering all the juice he can get on his tongue, enjoying your taste. You moan loudly, earning a glance from him, he was so concentrated by his own pleasure on feeling your pussy on his mouth that he forgot to check what was your reaction and he's glad to find that you're enjoying yourself, hands flying to his hair as you pull him more into your cunt. He keeps licking your clit, sucking and even biting just to make you shudder glaring at him. He chuckles every time, making the vibrations stimulate you even more.

Minho puts on a finger, testing the water to see how you react, he puts on another one when you look unbothered by just one, earning a reaction from you as you whine and moan. You can feel your second orgasm of the night being ripped out of you, as he intensifies his sucking on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you.

You let out the louder couple of moans of the night, holding onto the sheets for dear life as you tremble and arch your back in pleasure. You're absolutely fucked out and have no idea how Minho can keep going, his hair is a mess and his lips are swollen, his face is covered on your juice from his mouth until his chin. When he kisses you again, you can feel your own taste on his tongue, making you groan.

You can feel his hardness pressing against your leg. He still has his pants on looking painfully tight.

“You wanna keep going?” He asks and you nod, biting on your lip. “I think Chan has some condoms stocked, I'm gonna take a look”, he starts moving out of the bed but you hold his wrist, pulling him back to you.

“I'm on the pill”, you bite on your bottom lip, “I’ve been taking it since we started dating”, you prop yourself up, leaning on your elbows as you kiss him, “wanna feel you”, you say, making his breath hitch and his face turns red.

He nods, blinking a few times before leaning over to kiss you once more. He gets up quickly, taking off the rest of his clothes and in a second his body hovers over yours as he positions himself between your legs, his cock teasing your entrance carefully.

“If it hurts, tell me”, he checks with you for the last time and you nod. He starts pushing his cock inside you, your hands are holding him by the shoulders, digging your nails on him but he doesn't seem to mind.

He closes his eyes briefly, feeling your velvet walls squeezing him so much it's hard to keep going. Minho stops when he hears you sniff, opening his eyes just to find your eyes full of tears and trembling lips.

“Am I hurting you? You should say it if I am”, he scolds you gently, something only he can do.

“The first time is supposed to hurt”, you explain.

“But I can do something to make it hurt less if you tell me what you're feeling”, he kisses your forehead, having all the care to not move inside you.

“You're already making it so much more comfortable”, you smile, kissing his nose.

“Maybe you should be on top, that way you can have the control”, he tells you and you ponder for a minute, nodding.

He pulls out of you, making you whine to the sudden loss, making you feel empty. Minho chuckles, kissing you before laying down to watch you be the one to come on top of him.

You grab his cock, position it in your entrance and push it in. You're much more brave than him, Minho thinks, but also you're the one who knows how much pain you can handle so it's only right for you to have the control — at least on your first time.

You sink down on his cock slowly, making him grab the sheets rather than your hips, too afraid to put too much pressure on you and hurt you. Your face tells him you're in pain, but he knows there's not much he can do about it other than soothe you. So he caresses your back with one hand and your face with the other, sliding his hands to your breasts and kneading at them so you can at least relax a bit.

When you finally have all of him inside of you, you sigh, staying still for a couple of minutes. Minho feels like he can explode at any second, you're squeezing him like crazy but he doesn't want to hurry you so he waits for you to move.

You start grinding on him, rubbing your clit on his pelvic bone and trying to relax the most. After a while the pain is almost not perceptible and you start riding him at a fast pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, Minho says, finally grabbing at your hips to pull you down on him.

You can't really form coherent sentences, so the chant of “ah-ah-ah” followed by your kisses on him and you marking his chest is the biggest form of communication you can manage at the moment.

Minho thinks you're the prettiest person he has ever seen, he thought that the moment your eyes lock for the first time and he'll think that until you two are too old to remember what you ate the day before.

When he feels like he's about to cum, he warns you and you nod to let him know you understand but keeps sinking down on him even deeper. He paints your walls white while trembling, his bottom lip stuck between his bunny teeth as he holds your hips with such strength that you know it's gonna bruise. But you don't mind, not at all.

You didn't cum this time, it wasn't as painful as it could be but still painful enough to not edge you.

“I'm sorry you didn't finish”, he pouts as you pull out of him and snuggle yourself in his arms.

“You made me come twice”, you chuckle, making him smile before kissing the top of your head.

“But I wanted to do it a third time”, he huffs.

“We have all the time in the world”, you tell him, resting your chin on his chest as you watch him grin.

“Yes, now you're mine forever”, he giggles to your widened eyes.

“Should I be worried?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“You were already mine from the start, you just didn't know it yet”, he kisses you, pulling away just to stare at you for a few seconds. “I love you”, he confesses and you feel your cheeks burning.

“I love you too”, you say, closing the distance between the two of you and kissing him again.

[lilywritings]

Little "time travel" au with gen!lilia and human reader!

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟

I can't stop thinking about "time travel" ughhh i love that au, imagine you two are already very deep into your relationship in current time then

Poof.

You're accidentally transported to the past only to meet general Lilia the second you land ( you already knew how he was bc of his dream in book 7 but now you're legit in the past).

You choose not to tell him that you're actually together but rather his future "friend" ( he is not buying that ) you knew general Lilia would've NOT taken it well bc you're a human that magically popped infront of him at the worst time possible, a little before the war.

But the way you said his name , had a blessing upon you and the way you looked at him made him a bit hesistant and unsure so he pulled his magearm away from you and took you to his dear friends to get the truth out of you.

Lucky for you Levan saved your ass here from his wife and best friend bc meleanor would've fried you by now . A human trespassing JUST before the war!?

And what added the oil to the fire was the fact that malleus put a blessing upon you ( the one mentioned up) after the whole book 7 heartbreak. Meleanor sensed it was a draconia family blessing IMMEDIATELY and was VERY suspicious and angry at you.

So you explained everthing to them and made them sort off belive that you're from the future and searching for a way to get back after you mentioned Malleus. Nobody should've known that princess was about to have a baby and you even knew his name. Meleanor was thinking of zapping you right then and there but Levan held her off and made an agreement.

And thus they put Lilia to supervise you while they work on a way to get you back and think about your words.

Let me tell you something, Lilia HATED IT . why HIM!? THIS HUMAN THAT WON'T STOP STARING AT HIM WEIRDLY AND CLAIMING TO BE HIS FUTURE "FRIEND"!? he wanted to hiss at you at least.

While Lilia was having a crisis you took this situation to try and get closer to him and find out more bc your lilia didn't really talk about his past SELF! that much he is a man of secrets after all...

This was your chance to get to know his past self better and maybe try to open him up a bit and help him.

You knew what was about to come and you know better than to mess with the fate in this "time travel thingy" but was it really that?

Your mind was boiling at tge idea to spoil him ROTTEN & show him how loved he is. But you couldn't do that rn at least not so sudden ...

Ahh loving this fae is complicating.

After some time of looking at him training the troops & being busy but still having to take you with him everywhere he finally sat down with you to talk about how you're bothering him.

And truly , what made lilia irritated and bothered the most was. Your gaze.

Ah those eyes that never stopped looking at his directly, firmly ,not an ounce of fear in them.

The way you gazed upon him like he was a treasure that you couldn't bare to look away from not even for a second or he might just slip away and never return.

Whats that emotion inside your eyes?

Whats that warmness?

It feels familiar yet different ? Nobody has ever looked at him that way . He is not used to it and it makes his skin crawl.

Are you bewitching him human?

He still doesn't trust the fact that you're magicless ,not when you're doing something to him .

Your damned gaze made him feel ... something at least.

Yet he couldn't help himself to brush you away completely you were ... interesting?

On the other hand you were fighting inside bc of the fact that you couldn't shower him in love right this moment and tell him who you are... You must focus to find out more.

And just as he was about to say something your vision got blurry~~~

.

.

.

"Darling you've been sleeping for a bit too long aren't you going to wake up soon?

"..."

"I might even make you a meal how about that? Oh i know you're going to love this one♡"

You stirred awake and found yourself on your present Lilias lap.

"Lilia?" you looked up at him all confused ( Was that all a dream?Does he know, does he remember?)

You didn't even notice you fell asleep on him while he was gaming for god knows how long.

He was caressing your face at your call and cooing at your sleepy state. My how adorable you looked to him right now.

"Hm?"

"Did we perhsaps meet before?"

Lilia smiled wide at your question before bending down and kissing your forehead gently.

"Perhaps my love, perhaps~"

.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑**̑˟

Ps. I would love to know what do you think guys :3 (i had a bit of help)

[violet-eng]

🔞 Teen Thanos x teen fem!reader

A/N: This friend had a dream and I got obsessed with it… she wanted me to write it and I did my best.

Summary: Choi Subong, your friend, starts acting weird when he looks at you deadly in the eye during classes. You may think he's developing a crush with your seat friend… But maybe you're wrong.

Mdni

Tw: Last year students, shy, jealous and insecure reader, use of the name Thanos once, reader thinks he's in love with someone else, reader gets jealous because Thanos holds someone's hand, virgin!reader, lost of virginity, clumsy!thanos, but eventually experienced!Subong/Thanos, softdom!thanos, bottom!reader, fingering, p i v, missionary, small biting, small talk. Not edited.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

You knew him to the core.

You knew he wanted to become a rapper, you knew he loved hip hop and longed to travel to the United States. You knew every detail of his face, the sharp eyes and the hair that fell on his forehead, the way his fingers vibrate around the pencil when an idea came to his mind for a new verse.

Choi Subong was an innocent soul with sporadic nuances, a maze of spontaneous thoughts embodied in a pretty-faced teenager.

And you... You were a tumult of questions, a swirl of insecurities and tasks. You perceived yourself as so opposite to him, an explicit divergence in your personalities that somehow or other made your friendship work.

You liked him, your affection for him was so deep and innocent that you found yourself hopelessly wrapped up in an idyllic unrequited feeling. You were not his type, it was clear to you, boys like him don't fall in love with girls like you, but rather with girls like your seatmate.

Ah... she sure was cute, as confident as she was witty, as lacking in insecurities, as perfect for him... and that was exactly what made you confused. Because if she was the idealization of his perfect partner model, what was he doing staring at you during the first period break?

Longing, misfortune, inspiration, confusion, fear, insecurity, caution, restraint, pain... his gaze was as indecipherable as he himself was. Sitting at his desk a few steps away from yours, amidst the hustle and bustle of the room, the conversations around you became blurred and the voices more and more distant, because his gaze on you seemed to placate everything around you.

No, he definitely couldn't be looking at you, not in that way that made your heart beg for a chance, for a word or a look that was more intimate, more his and precisely right for you, for both of you. It wasn't you, it was never you, it was her. The certainty was cruel, your mind was determined to forge that truth and live around it: Subong liked your friend (silly).

You were back that day from lunch, chatting with your friends, sitting at your desk while fixing the boards of your skirt, when you saw Subong approaching you. He was going to say something, you were sure.

You said something about the food at lunch, but he said nothing. Sitting across from you, that look again...doubt, pain, longing. His eyes glittered, enthusiastic orbs chained to a torment you didn't know, undecipherable.

The second period bell was the only thing that could cut the tension of the moment, dragging Subong back to his seat.

The end of the second period. On the way home, at the corner, your friend eagerly grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you vigorously as she let out a shout of joy.

“Subong likes you!” she exclaimed with eagerness.

“What weird things you say...” you shook your head.

“He looks at you as if he would die if he spoke to you.”

“He must want to ask me for some favor, maybe he wants to go out with you.”

She snorted, so deep it seemed to move the treetops. “Of course not, for God's sake, he pays more attention to you than to his rhymes.”

You grimaced in disagreement.

“I want fried chicken” she said suddenly grabbing you by the hand and dragging you to the nearest store.

You were drinking soda when the group of guys came in, friends from school, Subong among them. He was petrified when he met your gaze.

Everyone at the table shared small talk, Subong and you a couple of laughs and comments, and maybe the occasional grazing of hands as you tried to grab the sauce for the chicken. Your friend looked at him, then at you. One had to be very foolish not to sense what you both felt but were afraid to confess.

The group left as night was falling, almost everyone walking in the same direction, until an intersection separated the three of you from the rest. The chatter was pleasant, your friend held your hand, Subong walked behind both of you.

“Come Subong, I can't hear you well” she said, dragging him between the two of you, causing him to instinctively grab your hand... just like hers. Subong's fingers were warm, the warmth of his skin wrapped around your palm as his thumb lazily caressed the back of your hand.

It was almost perfect, except that he was also holding your friend's hand... was he also caressing her hand? did he fit better with her than with you? was this some kind of charity?

“I forgot something” you said suddenly ceasing to walk, pulling your hand almost too roughly away from his. The chill of the night running across your skin almost at the instant of separation.

And then, the martyrizing picture, just as you suspected... They looked good together, him taller, his firm hand encircling her delicate digits, almost caging her small limb, so clinging to her.

“I'll go,” your friend said, suspecting the worst, it was as if she read the wave of theories overflowing through your mind.

"No, it's okay. Go ahead without me" you insisted turning around and walking to who knows where.

Moving down the street, you still felt the tingle of his fingers on your skin, the electricity of his ambiguous touch, the sway of his walk and the sound of his voice, the closeness of your deep harmony. You sensed him so intimate, so alien to the rest, but deep down you felt that he would never be yours, not even for you.

So foolish you had been to believe for a moment that Subong felt something for you.

The sudden weight on your shoulder pulled you away from your own trance. You didn't have to turn around to know it was him, his fingertips digging into your clothes, static on your skin, lightly moving your shoulder to make you turn to look at him.

“How long have you been following me?” you asked bluntly. Still turning your back to him.

“As soon as you left I followed you” his hand trailed down your arm to your wrist, “I wasn't going to leave you walking alone, I'm taking you”, he began to guide you down the street.

And again that pleasant sensation that made your heart shrink, his hand covering yours with indelible naturalness. But it hurt, for some reason you couldn't conceive the idea that at least deep down, he held a shred of affection for you.

“I'd rather go alone,” you said, waving your hand, releasing yourself from his grip.

He turned to you, round eyes with surprise, and yet his hand found yours again almost like a magnet.

“Subong, stop it” you exclaimed pushing his insistence away with disdain.

“What's wrong with you?” he gasped, almost as disgusted as you were, his lips in a pout, “you've been acting strange all day.”

“Me?” the expression was as sharp as it was disappointing, "I'm not the one who came over after lunch to stare at someone silently, you talk as if I'm the one who was staring at you during second period. You're the one staring at me like a zombie, you walk up to me without saying anything, and when I think you're going to act normal you hold my hand in a way you don't do to a friend...you make me believe things that aren't there. Being honest, I don't understand you, if you're playing a game tell me because I really don't think I can stand whatever it is you're…”

Words catch in your throat as his lips meet yours, catching the claim in his breath, wrenching away misery and every hint of insecurities with the synchronized movement of your mouths. Soft, yes, his lips were soft as you imagined, deft and cautious, prudence contained in shy assaults of his tongue.

“You talk too much” he said over your lips, careful not to break the kiss as his hands cupped your cheeks.

No one was home, and all the while you two were a pair of off-balance idiots, giggling between kisses trying to get out of each other's clothes. Your foreheads pressed together with your hearts in a frenzy.

The room felt so small, the heat was unsettling as Subong's hands tried to undo your blouse with little proficiency. The anxiety of this dance of desire collapsed Subong's skills, who laughed nervously as he removed the clasp from your skirt.

The fabric rolled down your legs, leaving you in your underwear, the blush creeping up your cheeks, and him, his lips parted as his gaze roamed over you as if you were a dish he was eager to devour, as if you were an unknown world.

Pants off. Now you were on the mattress, Subong on top of you. You didn't dare look at him, you felt ashamed to have to see his….

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you replied almost too quickly, too confidently compared to his serene, almost shy tone.

He just nodded, cautious, a subtle nod of his head.

He pressed his lips together as if encouraging himself, and grabbed your panties from the corners, sliding his hands over your hips and thighs, he seemed too focused on this, almost doubtful... Is it that he didn't want to? He didn't know how to do it? Subong wasn't a virgin... or was he?

“You know how to do it don't you?” the cautious way you said it had to have been too funny to draw a smile from Subong. His face seemed to light up.

“You think Thanos is a virgin?” he asked as he settled your legs around his hips, the third person mention had stolen a chuckle from you

“We won't be needing this” he said leaning towards you. His hands found your bra clasp with a familiar nature, weathered and trained as he uncovered the valley of your breasts from their captivity .

"I thought..."

“You were just making me nervous, that's all... I didn't want you to be regrets” the words carried so much lust, but his eyes held so much innocence... Or something darker, something you couldn't decode.

“Subong” you caressed his cheek, his name uttered like a desperate oath.

He leaned in vehemently, his lips finding yours, his bare chest against your bare breasts, your erect nipples against his restless throbbing, his member touching your lower belly.

He is cautious in touching you, his fingertips burning on your skin as he roams you as if you would break in his arms, probes beneath the shadow of your breasts and the curve of your waist, dipping low enough to make you shudder beneath him.

His lips descend to your chin, his tongue traces the line of your jaw and designates your neck as his favorite domain, sucking the skin furiously, oblivious to the designs of sanity, feeling you begin to wriggle from the stimulation.

The heat grows between your thighs, and without leaving your neck, Subong's fingers slide between your legs. Almost as if summoned by your growing ecstasy.

Your nails dig into his scarred shoulders, tanned skin beginning to sweat from the warmth of your incessant moans.

His fingers slip through your juices, parting your folds cautiously, drawing moans from your throat. He caresses you gingerly, smooth and sober, as he leaves kisses on your collarbone, descending to your chest, designating a route to the tacit foreplay.

One of his fingers touches your entrance, and you almost gasp as he moves in. Thin, hard, and determined. You moan as you arch your back, Subong's hand for support, between your shoulder blades caressing the sweaty skin, as his mouth sucks at your buttons.

He takes his time inserting his second finger, invading your insides, touching fibers you didn't know could be touched, sending waves of heat between your legs, to your abdomen. The swirl of sensations clouding your vision. His fingers begin to move in rhythm, digging inside you, the wet sound overtaking your moans.

You feel the tingling increase, the warmth of that unfamiliar sensation spreading to your thighs. The sway of his fingers is smooth, gentle and peaceful, he was seeking your own pleasure, not his. He wanted to show how good he could make you feel.

“More” the words roll fluidly across your tongue, as if they were part of your vocabulary. And when Subong's fingers leave you, making you miss that feeling of fullness, you feel something else...

There was no way you could stretch that wide, but his length advancing inside you, centimeter by centimeter, seemed to remove all traces of doubt.

“Subong~” your cry is an amalgam of pleasure and pain, diamonds of tears appearing at the corners of your eyes.

“The first time hurts a little, I know” he whispers against your chest, frowning and anchoring his fingers into your skin as his cock breaks through your velvet walls.

Tight, virginal, fragile and delicate, there was an appendage of guilt in his intrusion as he ripped away your innocence with his passion. He was inside, you could feel him coursing around every corner, the strange texture exploring your womanhood, filling you as far as he could.

A growl from him, as he sunk his face into the crook of your neck, his hand stroking your hair, tangling a lock in his fist as your chin rested on his shoulder. His scent filled your mind with lust, growing ardor of unknown sensations, trapped beneath him, filled with his desire for you.

As he began to move you felt the sky pounce on you, your back sliding across the mattress in a back and forth of deep, soft but deep lunges, as your ear was bathed by his low moans, that husky, dark voice crying out your name.

“You don't know how bad you make me” he said leaving a bite on your neck, his hips pressing against yours, pounding you with the rush of fluids.

"I thought so much of you. In this" a stray caress in your hair, as his crescendoing motion pushed you further and further.

You clung to his back, his shoulder against your nose during his penetrating fluctuation, as he seemed to pull you tighter into a kind of embrace, leaving wet kisses on your cheek.

“I was afraid you wouldn't accept me” a growl after it, a deep one as he felt you tighten on him, “I was afraid I could never have you like this” the pace frantic, relentless.

Your back arches, the heat growing in your abdomen, your nails marking his skin, the scarlet traces of your ebullient stride, of your climb to ecstasy.

Erratic and wild, Subong did not want to let go, clinging to your walls, to that soft spot that pounded incessantly, insisting on hearing you scream his name.

Heat, burning, pressure... the release was as hot as the ascent, the weight wrenched away with a final onslaught as you felt the tangle inside you unravel and your muscles convulse.

Subong stayed in you, deep, as you both moaned, embraced, joined in various ways. One last kiss on your neck before he pulled out of you, the strings of his ecstasy escaping from your insides, wet and warm, as much as the kisses he began to place on your shoulder as he lay next to you, his arm under your head and his breath against your skin. You looked up at the ceiling as your feet tangled together, as your heart slowed.

Those furtive glances continued during breaks, during classes, and intensified when hiding in the music room after school, when Subong would drop his notebook full of verses about you to lift your skirt and corner you against the wall, or when during lunch he would touch your thigh maybe too far above the knee... in any case you didn't stop him because those deep black eyes begging for affection were your damn weakness..

[goomyloid]

im the kris costume anon (that is... a description, alright self jklfhdfkjas) and i just had to jump up and down at what you said at the end about kris protecting noelle!!!!

because gosh did it do things to my brain when noelle said 'then kris, maybe you can take your sword and be the hero that protects me from the mice?' like... hmmmm noelle?? HMM???? i say as i fuck up the puzzle and scare her endlessly with mice anyway but--

gosh i love that yeah, kris as a knight as opposed to baggy clothes gremlin must've been so confusing for noelle! also they just naturally know all these aura farming ass poses, are agile as hell, and things that make them *look cool*?! i love that kris is still shorter than her though shdjsdhjs

i also wholly subscribe to the idea that kris is trying to protect noelle by distancing themself from her (or something) so it is Doing Things to my Brain to consider what noelle must've been thinking to see them as a knight

agljkghkhkfjas oh my god, i had a similar thought during the weird route of 'haha it's like kris is the knight protecting their mage ha a h a...' before tucking that away deep in my mind, because i thought i'd get flayed for it so it felt like someone dumped cold water on my head when i read what you said LMAOOOOO bless...!

I will say the things ur afraid of getting flayed for… theure gonna flay me instead… get behind me big goomyloid will protect you

axwgdhecqcshf i can imagine that noelle has never really thought of kris as being very “cool”… MAYBE when they were playing the piano she would think so? but “cool” probably isnt the right word (maybe earnest instead) and its definitely not the same as how they appear in the DW lol… suddenly bro is swordfighting and whatever else and noelle is just ?!?!?!?!??! (hand over mouth) Why are they kinda… i didnt know they could…

IT MAKES ME GIGGLE even though normal route kriselle is much more lowkey i think its a cool tidbit… who knows maybe seeing that different side of them will awaken something in her………. but in reality theyll always be a little penguin

also — i laugh when i see people draw kris taller than noelle tbh… this is proof that we fundamentally view the characters differently. sorry. kris always must be significantly shorter sorry

also yeah i definitely think that out of all people kris wants to protect by Keeping Them Out Of It it’s probably noelle. susie is way different, because not only is she super strong in character and blatantly disobeys Us all the time, but at this point shes kind of irreversibly deeply intertwined with whatever the hell is happening story-wise. i said it somewhere in a twitter thread but if kris is going to want anyone to understand their position, it’d probably be susie. conversely, kris is driven away from noelle for all sorts of reasons, one of which is probably guilt over Various Things (them possibly having something to do with dess’s disappearance, or the fact that theyre Working For Dess Now or something, or just general low self esteem and feeling as though they’d be weighing her down by staying in her life). they miss her but they feel like they dont have the right to, so they keep pushing themself away and clinging onto susie as a result (this isnt discrediting the krusie friendship or anything but rather one of many reasons that kris seems so attached to her)

cold silent knight there to protect noelle… little did kris know that this protection would lead them into getting closer to her again.. PLAN BACKFIRE epic fail loser!!!! i think about how before kris cut her off in the couch scene, noelle was probably going to say that kris said they would protect her (since she reiterates it later) and i just go Oughhhh. Aauuuugghhhh. if i could redo my little comic interpretation of the porch scene id add that in there because i Forgot

reminds me of this doodle i did (for angel/demon au) where kris’s silent protectiveness gets completely trashed as they are the one forced to hurt her……. forced to hurt the friend you promised to protect… you TOLD her youd protect her…. she is harmed and then as punishment you feel as though you must harm yourself. hey does anyone else see that 18-wheeler coming down this lane or is it just m

[ldrfanatic]

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

[thewosocollective1]

The big world of Maya

Alexia putellas x Teen!

Barcelona sky was a soft shade of lavender, stretching wide over the Camp Nou facilities. Maya González, seventeen and already full of fire, stood with her curls tied back in a loose bun, her cleats hung lazily over one shoulder. She was dressed in her Barça training kit, lips curled into a smile that never seemed to fade—except on game day, of course.

She’d grown up kicking worn balls on the gravel of a small orphanage yard. It hadn’t taken long for her wild talent to catch the eyes of a nearby neighborhood coach, who nudged her toward La Masia when she was only ten. By fourteen, Maya faced a decision: leave or find a legal guardian. That’s when the unexpected happened—Alexia Putellas, the queen of Spanish football, stepped in. She signed the papers without blinking and brought Maya home.

And not just to any home. A warm, colorful house filled with music, dog hair, and the soothing voice of Olga Ríos, Alexia’s girlfriend and a rising influencer. Olga painted Maya’s room with lilacs and stars. Alexia taught her how to read the rhythm of a midfield. They became the family Maya never knew she was allowed to dream of.

At school, Maya thrived. Not academically—her mind didn’t love textbooks—but socially, she was magnetic.. She never stopped talking. Loud, funny, quick to tease, and loyal to a fault. Her closest friends had always been Lamine Yamal, Héctor Fort, and Pau Cubarsí. They played for the men’s first team now, but they still met for lunch when they could.

“Maya!” Héctor Fort called from a nearby table. “Come sit before Pau eats all the croquetas.”

Maya rolled her eyes and dropped her tray with a thud. “You say that like Pau doesn’t need three plates to survive.”

Lamine Yamal appeared from behind, ruffling her hair. “The real star has arrived. ¿Jugaste bien Ayer?”

“As always,” she said with a grin. “I made Mapi spin like a beyblade.”

“Bro, Maya, ¿cómo diablos metiste ese pase entre tres defensas?” Lamine asked, mouth full of sandwich.

“I don’t know!” she grinned. “It’s vibes. I see space, I send the ball. It’s not that deep”

“I don’t know how you can do that” Pau said 

“Se llama talento, algo que no tienes, but don’t worry friend your time will come”

Pau rolled his eyes, ignoring the girl. “You’re basically allergic to tactical structure.”

“And still score more than you,” Maya shot back with a wink. They all laughed.

“I usually close my eyes for 15 minutes before the warm-up,” Pau said. “And visualize passing angles.”

The table went silent.

Then Maya burst out laughing. “You’re visualizing triangles? Bro wtf .”

Lamine clapped his hands dramatically. “Pau, I swear you’re the only guy who thinks about geometry before kickoff.”

“Wait,” Héctor added, eyes wide with mock horror, “is that why you pass sideways 70% of the time? You’re stuck inside a hexagon?”

“I hate you all,” Pau mumbled, shoving fries into his mouth.

Maya leaned forward, poking his arm. “You love us. Admit it.”

“No,” Pau said firmly. “I’d rather meditate.”

“That’s fine,” Maya teased. “We'll just chant around you next time. Ohhhh sacred triangle, guide the Cubarsí pass to nowhere...”

Even a nearby staff member glanced over, trying not to laugh.

Eventually Pau cracked a smile. “You’re all evil.”

“But entertaining,” Lamine grinned.

“Disturbingly powerful,” Héctor added.

“And I’m the queen,” Maya declared, sticking two napkin points behind her ears like a crown.

Pau rolled his eyes and grabbed a spoon. “Fine. Your majesty. May your chaotic midfield reign last forever.”

Maya winked. “Only if Pau keeps visualizing triangles to support me.”

They erupted in laughter, drawing curious looks from other tables. It was easy between them, like the rhythm of a childhood song. They’d met years ago at La Masia—three musketeers with dirty cleats and dreams too big to fit in their backpacks.

Training at Ciutat Esportiva was another story. Maya adapted like water. She’d step into drills with senior players like Patri Guijarro or Ingrid Engen without blinking. Her improvisational flair made it look like she danced with the ball, not kicked it.

“She’s chaos,” Mapi León once whispered to Lucy Bronze. “But good chaos.”

In the locker room, Maya’s energy exploded. She was always teasing, joking, dancing—even if her phone stayed buried at the bottom of her backpack.

…

“You coming to rondo later?” Vicky asked, half-smiling.

“I should," Maya replied. "But Alexia’s probably got me doing dribbling drills that make me question my life choices.”

Vicky chuckled. “She only tortures you porque te quiere.”

And she did. Alexia Putellas had taken Maya in not just legally—but emotionally. Since the day she'd signed those guardianship papers, she’d made it her mission to guide Maya through football, life, and every mess in between.

“Hoy te toca hacer TikTok,” Vicky López told her.

“Nope,” Maya replied. “TikTok is for people who have time to be famous.”

“Says the girl sat on the looker room complaining about having nothing to do” Jana said laughing 

“Ella tiene que estudiar” Alexia said appearing from no where

“Alexia, Estudiar es dudar de mis habilidades” 

“Yes and  sit you on the bench for having bad results at school is using  my skills”

...

At home, the quiet moments were just as rich. Maya would stay up late without alexia knowing, doing stretches on the living room carpet, and Olga would join her sometimes with a face mask on. They’d talk about girls, music, the world, and how Maya kept her life offline despite everyone asking her for interviews and photos.

“I don’t need everyone to know me,” Maya would say. “I need the ball to know me. That’s enough.”

...

One day after a game Alexia entered the living room dressed in sweats and a hoodie so oversized it looked like she’d stolen it from Maya’s drawer. She spotted the girl-shaped blanket blob and raised a brow.

"Are you alive under there, or is this your new form?" she asked.

Maya groaned from somewhere in the fabric. “Leave me in peace, I’m communing with the sofa gods.”

Alexia stepped closer and poked the blanket. “This is the same sofa you spilled matcha on yesterday.”

“You don’t get to insult me and my throne.”

Alexia smiled and plopped down beside her with her legs flung over Maya’s blanketed ones. She grabbed the untouched cereal and began eating shamelessly.

“Hey!” Maya peeked out. “That’s mine.”

“You left it unattended. Five-minute rule.”

“That’s not how that rule works,” Maya protested.

“It is in this household.”

“¿Me das masajes o no me amas?” she joked.

Alexia chuckled and started kneading her calves gently.

“Yo siempre te amo, Benny. Even when you’re a pain.”

Maya looked up, eyes soft. “Sometimes I think you rescued me.”

Alexia didn’t reply right away. She kissed the top of Maya’s head. “No. You rescued yourself. I just got lucky enough to witness it.”

“Estoy orgullosa de ti,” Alexia whispered once, almost too softly to catch.

“I know,” Maya murmured. “Sometimes I feel it more than I hear it.”

Alexia smiled. “Bueno, next time I’ll shout it.”

“Please don’t,” Maya laughed, throwing a pillow at her.

Olga grinned from the kitchen. “You two are impossible.”

[laruezzzz]

~ 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖗!𝖛𝖎 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘 [𝖘𝖋𝖜 + 𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜]

🏎️𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🏁 ／ ⋆ ۪ 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶, 𝔰𝔢𝔱, 𝔤𝔬 !

𝖘𝖋𝖜

~ streetracer!vi, who taps three fingers on the dashboard before she ever turns the key. real casual, like- if you blink, you miss it. like muscle memory or an old prayer. nobody asks why. nobody dares to. one time, in her haste, she didn’t do it- just climbed in and peeled the fuck out, and she spun her tires clean off the first corner. still blames the gravel for it.

~ streetracer!vi, who's palms are raw and ragged cause she won’t stop tightening bolts barehanded. fingernails gone blunt from prying rusted hoods open. grease inked deep into her skin, like it grew there, or something. you ask if she’s okay, because, duh, her hands are ruined, and she flexes her fist like it’s a joke. “can still knock out teeth with them just fine, yeah?” that's her metric. not comfort. nope, just function and impact.

~ streetracer!vi, who can never for the life of her remember her own jacket, but always keeps one on herself for you. always. it smells like asphalt, cheap citrus-y shampoo and burnt rubber. it’s not just a gift, but an insurance, too. it's a breadcrumb trail back to the only softness she lets out in daylight. you try to give it back once and she frowns at you like you just told her you killed her dog, or something. doesn’t say a word. just drapes it back over your shoulders and taps your collarbone thrice, the same way she does to her car. deal sealed.

~ streetracer!vi, who never learned how to sit still without fidgeting. always chewing on something- gum, a random matchstick, the silver chain that hangs from her neck. hands twitching like they’re waiting for a steering wheel to wrap around. but the second she leans against your shoulder, she's stillness personified. it's like you’re the engine kill switch she never knew she needed. doesn’t say anything about it, just closes her eyes and lets her jaw go slack. she's so, so precious.

~ streetracer!vi never manages to show up on time, but always shows up regardless. blasting music too loud, wrestling with her half-on hoodie, keys clenched between her teeth. “sorry,” she mumbles, tossing you a drink like some sort of peace offering, “got caught tuning the beast.” that’s what she calls her car- the beast, although its real name is powder. she treats it like it’s a pet, or a partner, or a piece of herself she’s trying to wrangle. you don’t mind waiting on her. watching her show up is half the fun, after all.

~ streetracer!vi, who doesn’t do birthdays but never fails to remembers your. she celebrates, obviously, but not with cake, and not with flowers, either. rather, with a midnight ride through the city, all windows down, engine howling wildly. she takes the long way, or as you call it, the scenic route, touring your favourite spots one by one. she stops at that late-night vendor for greasy loaded fries and a mango-soda float.

~ streetracer!vi, who flirts like she’s throwing elbows with her pit crew-quick jabs, smirks cocked at dangerous angles. but when she’s proud of you, like really proud? that’s when she goes really, really soft. not with words, though. with her stare. with the way she lets her touch linger for an extra second, thumb brushing your temple like she’s trying to memorise you. “you’re killin’ it,” she murmurs, although it's more to herself than to you. voice all low, reverent. like maybe, for once, she's realised she doesn’t have to be loud all the time.

~ streetracer!vi, who likes to pretend that she doesn’t like company but always gives you random things to hold. her jacket. her wrench. a weird little plastic charm that hangs from her rearview, cracked and faded but “not trash, okay?” she won’t ever ask for them back. not because she forgot. but because she wants you to keep them. pieces of her, scattered on your desk, placed delicately your shelf, buried in the depths of your pocket. proof she’s been there.

𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜

~ streetracer!vi, who kisses like it’s her last lap- mouth greedy, hands already mapping detours down your ribs. she’s not slow about it. not gentle either, not at first. she tastes like gas station cherry cola and the dusk, and she grips the back of your neck like you're the only solid thing left when the world blurs at her top speeds. you don’t realise she’s got you backed against her car until the metal hums behind you, scorching from the sun.

~ streetracer!vi, who talks through it. filthy, low, half-laughed- like she’s heckling your body for trying- and failing to keep up. “c’mon, you gonna tap out?” her voice frays around the edges when you dig your nails into her back. she bites your shoulder like it owes her money and keeps going, faster, until you’re gasping her name like a prayer with the vowels torn out. she likes that. she doesn’t want silence- no, she wants the echo of her name in the cavernous expanse of your throat for days.

~ streetracer!vi, who pulls you onto her lap when she's sat in the driver’s seat and says, “don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere”- and fuck, she means it. the engine’s still running. the whole car vibrates under you, low and purring, like it’s in on the secret. her hands grip your hips and guide you like she’s steering on instinct, lips never leaving your jaw. every moan swallowed by her. every rut a collision. you’re not even sure who’s in control anymore, but it's her. she is. she always is.

~ streetracer!vi, who has a thing for mirrors. car mirror, bathroom mirror, doesn’t matter- she likes watching. likes you watching, too. likes catching your eye mid-thrust, all sweat and swagger, her breath fogging the glass as she grinds in deeper. “look how good you take it,” she pants, grip tightening, teeth finding your neck. she doesn’t care if it’s messy. she wants it messy, actually. wants you ruined and still begging for more.

~ streetracer!vi, who marks her territory with more than just bruises. she leaves scratches down your back like tally marks, hickeys high enough they peek past collars, teethprints on thighs from where she got distracted and bit down just a little too hard. you ask her about them and she just shrugs, smug as hell. “gotta let ‘em know who you ride with, no?”

~ streetracer!vi, who can’t help herself when you show up in her garage wearing that. doesn’t even bother asking what you’re doing there- just lifts you onto the workbench, grease-stained hands tugging at belt loops like a woman possessed. “you tryin’ to kill me?” she growls, voice rough from disuse and oil fumes, dragging her tongue up your throat like she’s tasting victory. her fingers fumble with your zipper, but her mouth's already two steps ahead, carving a claim down your collarbone.

~ streetracer!vi, who drags you into the backseat like it's the first time, every time. it’s cramped. it’s sweaty. it smells like burnt rubber and victory, but still she makes it work. one leg over the console, the other braced against the door, she rides you like the road’s beneath her, not peeling leather and shadows. “better than pole position,” she gasps, clawing at your chest like the world outside doesn’t exist. and when you moan her name, loud and raw, she grabs your chin and makes you say it again, louder. she’s proud of the fact you're making that noise for her.

~ streetracer!vi, who loves the cooldown just as much as the race. when it’s all over- when you’re limp and giggling and the windows are fogged up- she pulls you close like you're her seatbelt. forehead to forehead, one hand stroking your spine like she’s checking for damage. “did i hurt you?” she asks, almost too soft for how rough she was a minute ago. you shake your head. she kisses your temple like she doesn’t believe you, and stays cradling you long after the heat fades.