#reading nemesis games. longing

[spockasmr]

[curiosityschild]

I did a Deaf Chell Portal playthrough (no sound and no subtitles) and it totally works.

My two questions were 1) would it be plausible for Chell to survive to the end of the game? And 2) would Chell have any idea that GLaDOS even existed at all?

And the answers are 1) Yes and 2) No.

Basically, Portal is a very good game with very well designed puzzles. At no point do you need any verbal instruction from GLaDOS. All the information you need to progress is given by the actual design of the level itself. For instance, the companion cube level. I was initially worried that this level would rely very heavily on GLaDOS's dialogue. I was thinking that it probably wouldn't be obvious to Chell that she had to destroy the cube to move on and that it probably would take her some time to stumble upon the correct course of action while trying whatever she could. But no! The fact that you have to incinerate the companion cube is made very obvious. There's literally a couple of those hazard warnings on the ground in front of the incinerator that tell you to throw the cube in.

IMO it would be pretty apparent to Chell what she needed to do and how to move through the facility. She may not understand WHY but she would know what to do. Even the end of the formal testing part where she is about to be incinerated. I don't know if Chell would know if this part was purposeful or accidental but regardless, she would be able to escape. The long and short of it is at any point in the game Chell's only option is to move forward and there's only ever one way forward.

There is basically no indication of GLaDOS's existence if Chell is Deaf. Here are the clues you get:

-no other humans in the facility

-once or twice the door to a level doesn't open until she's done monologuing at you (Chell of course has no idea she's being monologued at)

-one of the scribbles in Rattmann's hideout says "She's watching you" (Chell would not be too surprised by this. The cameras and observation rooms are obvious)

That's it. That's all you get up until you open the door to GLaDOS's chamber.

And even then! Even then the conclusion she's going to draw won't be more complex than "this computer must be the thing keeping the facility running and it is currently trying to kill me".

Now the GLaDOS fight itself is probably the biggest stretch of plausibility. At first, before the neurotoxin, GLaDOS does nothing that indicates she wants to hurt you. A piece of her falls off. It's pretty obvious that you can pick it up and put it in the incinerator (again, level design) but why? Just to do something? This is the weakest moment in the whole theory. AFTER that though, the continued destruction of GLaDOS makes more sense. Chell sees the countdown timer. She sees the neurotoxin even if she doesn't know what it is and she probably feels it too. There is now one of those eyeball turrets shooting at her. It is reasonable for Chell to draw the conclusion of "this huge robot is controlling the facility" at this point. And if the robot is making things shoot at her it makes sense to destroy the robot.

So she does. And she gets spit up onto the surface with absolutely no idea that GLaDOS had spent the entire time insulting her or even that she was sentient in the first place.

Which is very funny.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

waiting for people to realise that RE3R feels more action orientated because Jill is a fucking trained professional she was in STARS (Jill was one the few who survived the Spencer estate) and the fucking army be like

[sunnymoonxx]

❝here i blur into you❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

summary: you've been stranded on an unknown island with your nemesis for weeks now, the air getting filled with unpalatable tension as you try to find a way to get away from him. one afternoon, the tension breaks as he offers his knowledge to help you train.

warnings: english is not my native language, reader also has a twin and has a similar situation as osha, reader is a bit paranoid, lot of foreplay from qimir, teasing, fingering, cunnilungus, vulgar terms,

now playing, acquainted by the weeknd

He smelled like sandalwood, filling the air every time he passed you by or handed you a plate of food. For the first few days, you ignored it, letting it brush against your nose, your thoughts concentrating on how to get out of the island or how to kill him without breaking the code. But after nights and nights of sleeping in the same cave, sharing his space, and smelling him in every corner, it started to drive you crazy.

You lost your nerves last morning during your hand-picked breakfast when he strolled into the cave after his morning swim, water still dripping from his hair, the smell punching you in the nose, leaving you dizzy and breathless. You didn't know where you wanted to go, but as you picked up your things and bottle of water, it wasn't your main concern.

The smell itself didn't bother you. He bothered you. You knew exactly what game he was playing. With your sister, he played the role of a big brother, older protecter that she always wanted and wished for. With you, his mask dropped, revealing a charming seductive character. Every time he handed you something, he towered over you, gazing into your eyes so intensely it made your knees shake. Or when he walked towards you, he took his time, his eyes going up and down your figure until they fixated on you, staring at you until he came so close you could feel his breath brushing over your face. The slightest touches of his hands, the knuckle strokes, the skin contact when he healed your wounds.

He was trying to seduce you, knowing your weaknesses, just so you'd turn your back on the jedi and stay with him. As a padawan, desire was one of the forbidden emotions, alongside hate, anger, and fear. You never felt the touch of another, not one you desired.

His act had its way with you. You didn't deny it, but it was just a role for him. A mask he put on whenever you were close. You wanted to know the real him and maybe even try to help him. Instead, you were met with lustful eyes and breathtaking smell of his. A few days ago, you returned his gaze when he spoke to you, to try to read his thoughts and emotions. You only saw the colour red.

After you stormed out of the cave, leaving Qimir wondering, you kept walking around for about thirty minutes before you found yourself surrounded by smaller rocks, standing ankles deep in a hot sand. It wasn't that far away from the cave but far enough to get away from him and his sandalwood smell.

You dropped your bottle and some spare clothes on one of the flat rocks, letting yourself fall on your ass, letting out an anxious breath. You had no idea what you were going to do, how to act, or how to survive the upcoming days. You were certain Sol was going to find you and save you. You started to think about Yord and Jecki. You weren't that close to Yord, even in your padawan days. Jecki, you knew from afar, but she always had a soft smile on her lips. Your heart ached for them, feeling guilty even if there was nothing you could do.

You sat there for hours, staring at your dirty shoes. You were frozen. You needed to train. You were sure there was going to be time when you would have to protect yourself against Qimir and his brute strength. He killed Yord with his bare hands. As long as you would attack his hands first, you'd be safe.

You found a branch, pictured it as a lightsaber, and started repeating over and over fighting methods you were taught by your master. You held up till the sunset, and when the sun rose again, you picked up the branch and started again.

You didn't bother with breaks. You kept going till your knees gave up, and your arms fell by your side. Your chest rose up and down fast as you sat down, the branch falling metres away from you. You rested your head against the closest rock, daring to close your eyes. You were away for almost a day, with no food, just water to keep you company. You slowly started to regret leaving so impulsively, but you had no idea what you would do if you'd stay another minute around the intoxicating smell of his.

You had to fall asleep, your body reacting to the unknown sound earlier than you. Trying to compose yourself as you rubbed your cheek, painful and red, from resting against the hard rock. You picked yourself up, turning around to find where the sound came from. It didn't take you long, for Qimir revealed himself, appearing just a few metres away from you, a bag around his shoulder. He took you in, scanning your body like he was searching for any weapons or injuries. He found nothing, only a thin branch right behind your feet.

"You could at least take some food." he broke the brooding silence and your mutual staring contest. His voice was soft, small tug on the corned of his lips. He wore his usual beige shirt, transparent to his muscles. You shook your head, trying to focus on something else than his forearms as he put down his bag to take out the stuff he brought you.

"I'm not hungry," you lied, holding steadily your position, scanning his every move. He took out all the food to put them on the rocks in front of you, gently, making sure not to drop anything. He didn't forget to bring you fresh water, new clothes and a lightsaber.

Lightsaber.

You took a quick step back at the sight of the lightsaber, your ankle meeting with a rock. He brought a lightsaber. He was going to kill you now. You were sure of it.

"It's for you," he read your mind, making himself a place to sit next to the food, lightsaber at the opposite end of the food row. He tilted his head, softly smiling at you. "The tide is going to end by tomorrow," he said, his eyes set low, eyebags underneath. "you could disappear."

"What do you want?" you asked, attitude and hidden fear in your voice. Why was he helping you. Why did he inform you about the tide and possible escape. Was he planning something?

"For you to eat," he smiled, his teeth showing up for a second. "I have no desire to hurt you or let you die of starvation." His hands rested on his lap, his eyes soft and gentle, morning sun reflecting in them. He was beautiful in this light. But you shook that though away.

"What's with the lightsaber," you pointed with your head to the weapon, not daring to move, feeling his eyes burn into your skin.

"I made it for you," he replied quietly, looking over at the saber. You flinched when he slowly stood up, walking towards it to pick it up, holding it so the handle could be in your direction. He was close, too close to your liking, a small circle of rocks surrounding you two. "Figured you'd want one." he purred, taking slow steps towards you, not breaking his gaze at you. Like he was waiting for you to run, taking in every detail of you.

He stopped at arm length, lifting the lightsaber to you. You didn't move to take it and just stared at it. It was small compared to his hand, plainly black.

"How long is it since you've held one?" he asked, almost in whisper, looking down at you with curiousity. You didn't answer, forcing to look away from the saber, mirroring his intense gaze. You tried to read him again but failed. You were too tired to even see one small thought. He took a step closer, instinctively you wanted to take a step back, but the rock behind you made you stumble, Qimir's arm catching you sharply, pulling you back up.

He was so close now that the saber handle was touching your ribs, his breath tickling your face again, the sandalwood, again, penetrating the air. You tried to move away, pushing against him, but he didn't move an inch. He looked like a marble statue against the light.

"Take it," he growled, shaking with the saber a little. When you still didn't move, he took your hand and placed it on the weapon, his grip strong and tense. "Turn it on," he moved even closer, the head of the lightsaber pushing against his abdomen.

Turn it on.

You repeated his words.

Turn it on and get it over with.

Only you couldn't. You tried to force your hand to move, but like someone froze it, it was paralyzed.

"I'm not like you." You managed to let out, breaking your neck to look up at him. "I don't attack the unarmed."

"When did I attack the defenceless?" he asked, still holding your arm firmly, keeping you standing in one place. His hair fell like a black curtain around his eyes that stared into yours, awaiting an answer.

"Jecki," your voice broke at the memory of her. She had no reason to be there. She should have been safe at the temple.

You heard him take a deep breath, his fingers slightly amplifying the pressure around your wrist. "She attacked first,"

"She was a child." You raised your voice, trying to move away from him but as much as you wanted he didn't let you.

"Your Master brought her there. He knew the risk." He replied, his voice soft and calm with no hints of remorse.

"What do you want?" You cried out, furrowing your eyebrows. You wanted to scream at him, punch him, fight him, erase the stupid smell he had that drove you crazy and confused your thoughts.

"For you to eat," he repeated, stupid smile dancing on his lips. For a second, you wondered why he wore a mask to hide his beautiful face, but you quickly erased it. With the final push, he let go of your arm and stared at you as you made your way towards the food. You devoured embarrassingly quickly, forgetting about the claim you weren't hungry. All the time he stood there, watching you carefully.

When you finished eating, you took advantage of the bird that took Qimir's attention for a moment to hide the fork and knife behind your belt. It was stupid, but it counted as something. You could sharpen it using the rocks and use it when he'd attack you in your sleep.

"Why won't you kill me?" You asked after you finished your plate, reaching for the water bottle. You felt his stare. Everywhere. At that point you didn't know if he was still playing the role of a whore or he just had a staring problem. Both options made you nervous.

"As I said, I have no desire to." He smiled, kneeling down to squat. He slowly started rolling up his sleeves, the scars on his arms now more visible than ever. His long, thick fingers were wrapped around the lightsaber, his other hand now hanging in the air.

It was useless talking to him. It was obvious before, ridiculous now. You nodded, accepting you won't get any honest answer out of him.

"Thanks for the food, you better get going now." You slowly stood up, your stomach full and warm. "Time for your daily swim." you added, hoping he'd leave you alone till tomorrow when you could swim to the other side and leave this abandoned island.

You didn't hear him letting out a chuckle, his dimples showing. "I can take one here," he pointed at the calm water in front of you, guarded by gigantic rocks.

Great.

"Do whatever you want," you murmured, trying to convince yourself you're okay with his presence. Naked presence. You saw him the first few days, where you followed him every morning, not trusting anything he said. He invited you to join him every time, and every time you didn't say anything, just stood on guard, scanning and taking in every movement he made.

He was well built, with big arms, strong back, and powerful legs. Was he stripping in front of you as a part of his act, or was he just that unbothered by your presence. You hoped it was neither. You rather got tricked than ignored.

"Okay," you heard him murmur, walking towards you for his clothes. You flinched, taking a big step away from him, finding the lightsaber lying in the sand. As he slowly made his way to the water and started to undress, you took the lightsaber in your hands, feeling it, remembering the last time you held it.

You started your routine again, this time with your lightsaber, the branch left lying in the sand. You were well aware he was watching you, motivating you to show off and not to embarrass yourself.

Minutes ran by before you heard a splash, Qimir walking out of the water. You didn't even think to turn around, but your body decided for you. Your head tilted his direction, your eyes going up and down his figure. It wasn't the first time you saw it but this time you saw it from a clear view.

Suddenly, you had a hard time swallowing the saliva forming in your mouth, your heart aggressively punching your ribs.

Focus.

You quickly turned your head back, hoping to remember what you were doing before you scanned his form. You wondered if it would hurt, or would it be pleasurable.

You felt shame thinking about these things, but you never received an answer. The Jedi around you never answered, and those outside you didn't trust.

The unknown heat overtook you again, you had to close your eyes to regain your focus. Instead, The Force directed you back to him. His grin fixated his lips as he put on his clothes, not bothering to dry himself. Water droplets falling from his hair to his shoulders, his muscles forming themselves against the skin-tight robe.

Opening your eyes, you took a glimpse of your lightsaber, unaware of Qimir slowly approaching you. You practised your movements, your hand twists, and leg work. You had to get used to the weight of the lightsaber after years of not touching one.

You stopped yourself from turning his direction when you felt his touch on your shoulders.

"Keep your shoulders back," he whispered, forcing your shoulders back into their correct position. You froze, now only focusing on the warmth reflecting of his body. He bent over so his lips could reach your ears, and his hands travelled down to your biceps. "Your elbows up. You have them too low." he simply added, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You pressed your legs together, unaware of your need.

You listened to him, tho, keeping your shoulders and elbows in the position he moved them. His hands didn't touch you fully, only tickling the surface of your skin, but it was enough to make you burn.

"You need to spread your legs," he added, hearing a small smile while informing you. You fought the urge to turn and hit him in the face with the lightsaber handle.

When you didn't listen, he forced his knee between your legs, forcing them apart.

"So you don't fall over," he whispered against your ear, the little hair on your neck standing up.

"I didn't ask for help," you uttered, bitterness in your tone. You wanted him gone, but not for the same reason you did yesterday. For the reason that he made you have physical reactions without touching you. Having to press your legs together because of his voice. Feeling your skin burn by feeling him pressed against your back.

"You obviously need it," He smiled against your earlobe before pulling back just to let his hands fall onto yours, checking the way you hold your saber. He fixed the placement of your fingers, his breath on your neck erasing all of your thoughts. His warm wet chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling you. Your ass pressed against his abdomen. It was all too much for you. You shouldn't be feeling this way.

Yes, he was attractive. Yes, he was charismatic and soft when he wanted to be. But he wield the power of the dark side. He couldn't be trusted. You were scared the dreams you were having so often might become true.

"Use your thumb," he woke you up from your thoughts, pushing himself against your back as he held your hands. His voice was low and dark. "Place it on the top to hold it steadily. That way, it won't slip out of your hands, and you won't have to use strength to keep it in place." Even the way he talked and taught you almost drove you over the edge. You knew that's what he wanted and fought hard against it.

"I know how to hold a lightsaber." You hissed, shaking off his hands. Regretting it as his hands found its way to your lower back, pushing in, you had to hold back a moan,

"Straight posture." he simply said, ignoring you, leaving his hands on the back of your hips. You focused on taking deep breaths, hoping the heat between your legs would go away.

Almost as if he felt it, his hands moved from the back to the front, tickling the exposed skin of your stomach. You wanted to cry out, his touch driving you insane. You wanted to do something and, at the same time, nothing. You wanted him to take you, but you also wanted to drive the lightsaber through his skull.

"You won't fight anyone without a straight posture," he emphasized, pushing his fingers into your stomach, holding you in place.

"I've fought many people without you before." you replied angrily, a small moan leaving your lips at the end of the sentence as he moved his fingers lower, under your belly button.

"And did you win?" he mocked you, whispering into your ear. His hands right above the place you used your fingers while wishing they were his.

You were done with his stupid comments and mockery, pushing against him to turn and punch him, but he didn't let you move a muscle. He was too strong.

"What do they teach you," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone. "They don't teach you how to stand still or how to hold a lightsaber. Only how to surpress your emotions to become a hollow shell."

"That's not true," you argued. "We are taught to control our emotions, to feel them but not to let them get the best out of us."

"So why do you supress what you really want?" his voice turned into whisper again, his thumb making circling motion on your lower stomach. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew you were about to give up.

"Why do you shy away from your desire?" he added, using little to no strength to bring you skin to skin to him, feeling his length on your lower back.

Accidental moan left your lips. You closed your eyes out of embarrassment, wishing he didn't hear that. But you weren't that stupid.

"It's the path, path to the dark side." you stumbled over your words, feeling his fingers go lower, right above the belt of your pants.

Fuck.

"Then stop me," he whispered, his index finger going slowly underneath the hem of your pants. "Stop my hand. I'll let you." he added.

You didn't move a muscle. Only rested your head against his chest and let your arms fall by your side, lightsaber falling into the sand. You wanted him, and he wanted you. There was no reason to fight it. That was a problem for your future self.

"Tell me," he purred, his right hand painfully slowly maling their way to the hem of your panties. "Has anyone ever touched you like this?"

He was mocking you, playing with you. He knew no one ever had. You didn't count. "No," was your simple answer, wanting to dig yourself a deep hole in the ground and bury yourself in it.

"How does it feel?" he asked, his fingers finally reaching your wet bundle of nerves, slowly starting to circle your clit. You grabbed his arm out of shock, digging your nails into his skin. It felt too good. You were dripping wet, it was too easy for him to find your weak spot.

"As a Jedi, you can't even be with the people you love," he murmured into your ear before starting to leave small kisses down to your neck. "Can't give them the pleasure they deserve."

His fingers started to go up and down your clit, always stopping right before your entrance. You wanted to start begging for him to take you, but you didn't want to embarrass yourself more than you already have. You didn't pay attention to anything he was saying, only focusing on his fingers driving you crazy, making it difficult to keep a steady stance.

"What kind of life is that? Hmm?" His sloppy kisses and his fingers teasing your core themselves, almost had you falling over the edge. You were so touch deprived you were surprised you didn't cum when he touched you for the first time.

"Qimir," you cried out, wanting his fingers inside of you already. The first time, you said his name out loud. And he listened. His fingers stopped their movements, deserving an annoyed groan from you. He took them out of your pants, placing them on your waist to circle you so he could be face to face with you.

He didn't say anything before he bent his legs, kneeling in front of you, letting the sand swallow him. He looked up at you with pitch-black eyes, hinting on your pants. You understood, taking your time but nodding, letting him take off your pants and underwear.

The urge to cover your face and run away was strong, but the feeling of his mouth on your clit was stronger. You cried out hard, grabbing his hair as he dipped his tongue between your folds. This is what the Jedi deprived you of. You wanted to scream.

Qirim's tongue moved with rhythm against your dripping cunt, his fingers holding you still by your hips. Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging on them every time he moved his tongue, teasing your entrance.

"Fuck," you hissed, your knees bending. Qimir quickly caught you, not stopping assaulting your clit. "Qimir, please," you begged. You weren't sure what you were wishing for anymore, but his name in your mouth felt almost as good as his tongue felt between your folds.

Your arms moved from his hair to his shoulders, holding yourself steady when his hand left your hip to put them between your legs. You caught a glimpse of his face when you looked down. Lustful dark eyes, messy hair, sweaty against his forehead, his nose and mouth covered in your slick. The view itself almost had you cumming on his tongue. So when his fingers joined the game, pushing inside of you, betwen your walls you let a pornographic moan. You were alone on this island but if someone was on the other end, you were certain they could hear you.

His fingers moved fast, in and out of you, spreading and curling inside of you. He was gentle with you at first but as he felt you getting closer and closer to the edge he threw all the respect out of the window, fucking you mercilessly with his thick fingers.

If his mouth and fingers had you screaming his name you wondered how his cock would feel.

"Qimir, I'm- " you cried out, wanting to warn him, but he felt it. The way your walls started to contract, crushing his fingers inside of you. His tongue kept circling your clit, adding to the pleasure. You were sure you formed new scars on his shoulders as you came hard around his fingers and tongue, failing to catch your breath and keep your legs straight and strong.

He held you for a few minutes as you rested against him, his lips still glossy with your wetness. Without thinking, you bended over to press your lips against his, tasting yourself, mixed with the flavor of him.

[ariestrxsh]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, humiliation, degradation, sneaking around, use of sex toy, edging, ruined orgasm, enemies to lovers, bratttamer!matt, mean!matt, roughdom!matt

📝 author's note: 📝 here are parts one and two. i'm sorry i kept you guys waiting so long for part three. please enjoy and please read the other two stories for build up and context. :)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After staying the night in a heated sexual encounter with your arch nemesis, Matt Sturniolo, the two of you now have to keep up the charade in front of his brothers.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

hatef--k part three

The rest of the night was calm. Matt helped me move my laundry along, gave me back my clothes, and apologized for being a dick. "Hey, I'm sorry about hiding your towel and shit. That was kinda the meanest thing I've ever done to you," Matt smiled, probably recalling what it led to. It was actually the first time Matt had ever apologized to me for anything.

"Don't be sorry. I liked it. And if you're sorry, that's kind of a turn off," I looked up at him with a twinkle in my eye and a devilish grin plastered on my face, still riding a high from the incredibly passionate sex we'd just had.

"But you seemed legit mad," he looked at me, confused. "Well, I was mad. And I liked it. Both things are true. That's part of the game, isn't it?" I rhetorically asked. Matt smirked at me.

He knew exactly what I was talking about. It was just the first time either of us had really acknowledged the dynamic for what it was. If Matt and I really didn't like each other, we'd feel indifferent in the other's presence. But the only difference between disliking someone and hating them is passion.

Matt still did little things to frustrate me and tease me the rest of the night, like constantly moving my phone in random places, or tapping me on one shoulder but standing behind me on the opposite side. I'd roll my eyes at him and slug him in the arm, but there was something about the banter that was more playful than before.

"Did you wanna sleep with me in my bed tonight?" Matt asked, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with his rings. "Why the fuck would I wanna do that?" I asked, but I was smiling.

"Because you're a little whore, and you might want something to rub up against while you're dreaming about how I just fucked you," Matt teased me, tickling my side. "Only if you keep your hands to yourself, perv," I joked back.

I fell asleep next to Matt in his bed that night. We did try to keep our hands to ourselves, but there were a few times in our slumber where I felt him poking me in my backside with his cock, and I did find myself mindlessly rubbing up against his hip bone like a dog in heat.

Finally, around 9 a.m. the next day, I woke up to the sunshine pouring into Matt's room, and I rolled over to greet him. He looked like he had also just woken up, and his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the brightness.

"You know, I was joking when I told you I thought you were gonna rub up against me in your sleep, but you actually did it. Fucking whore," Matt teased me in his morning voice and let out a mean chuckle. "Yeah, and when I told you to keep your hands to yourself, I meant your hard on, too, perv," I rolled my eyes at him and smiled, intoxicated by the sleepiness that lingered in his words.

We heard a few noises downstairs, indicating someone had just walked in the door. Matt and I looked at each other wide-eyed, and I immediately jumped out of his bed, grabbing anything that was mine or anything that indicated I might have slept in there and booked it to Nick's room.

I frantically threw the blankets and pillows about on the bed to make it look slept in, splashed some cold water on my face in the bathroom, and stepped out to see Nick ascending the stairs in a white t-shirt, jeans, a leather jacket, and sunglasses. He always looked like a movie star. "Oh, hey. Good to see you awake. And alive," Nick laughed, stopping in the hallway. "Yeah, good to see you too," I lied.

I was definitely hoping to get another round with Matt in before either brother got home.

"Is Matt up yet?" Nick asked, motioning towards Matt's closed bedroom door. "Hmm. I don't know. Haven't seen him since last night," I lied again. Nick glided across the carpet and made his way to his room. "Jesus, was the bed comfortable? It looks like a tornado hit in here while you were sleeping," Nick joked, looking at the sheets in complete dissaray. "No, your bed was great!" I lied once more.

I had no idea if his bed was comfortable or not, considering the first time I'd stepped into his room was two minutes prior.

"I slept fine. I guess I just toss and turn a lot," I nervously laughed. Matt abruptly opened his door, startling me. My face grew hot, and my breath grew shallow. I could hear my heart thumping quickly in my chest, afraid Nick would pick up on the sudden energy shift between Matt and me.

"Hey Nick," Matt said, rubbing his eyes. "Good to see you guys didn't kill each other while we were gone," Nick said. "She tried, actually. Good thing I'm a light sleeper," Matt joked. "Move out of the way, freak. You're blocking the bathroom," Matt said, pushing past me. "Make sure you spend extra time in there. You look like shit," I responded rudely.

"Was he mean to you?" Nick asked after Matt closed the door behind him. "Not anymore than usual," I nonchalantly said. I don't know, Nick, do you consider your brother throwing me up against the wall and choking me and calling me a slut while he fucked me, mean? Because I don't know how to answer any of your questions right now.

Nick was one of those people I never lied to, but in just the past five minutes, I'd fabricated all my answers. I didn't like the act of lying, but I got excited at the idea of having a secret that nobody knew about besides Matt and me.

My phone, placed strategically on Nick's nightstand, started buzzing. It was a call from the company who was working on my water issue. "Hello?" I picked up the phone. "Hey, miss. Your water is back on, and it's all good to go. Sorry for the inconvenience," the man said over the phone. "Oh, no problem. Thanks for the update," I responded, staring Nick in the eyes, and I hung up.

"Damn," I fake sighed. "They said it's gonna be at least another day until I have running water in my apartment." Why stop lying now? "Don't worry about it. Why don't you just stay here another night?" Nick suggested, which was exactly what I was hoping he'd say. "We'll just have Matt drive you over to your apartment and get anything you need," he told me. I like the way you think, Nick.

"Oh, yeah. Matt will love that," I said, rolling my eyes but also smiling because I loved pissing him off. "What will I love?" Matt asked, walking out of the bathroom and past Nick's room. "Hey Matt, my water's still out, and Nick here, just offered to have you drive me over to my place real quick, so I can pick up some things I'll need to stay here another night. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" I taunted him, batting my eyelashes and smiling.

"I'd rather shoot myself in the foot, but I'll do it for my wonderful brother here who loves to help people by volunteering me to help them," Matt slapped Nick on the back and gave him a look. "Let's go, brat," Matt rolled his eyes and motioned for me to come towards him. Matt pushed the front door closed on me as I trailed behind him out to the yard. "Fuck you, Matt," I muttered.

Once we were outside and Nick couldn't hear us, Matt turned around, held me by my neck, and said, "What the fuck did you just say to me?" I loved the feeling of his fist tightening around my throat while he spoke to me through gritted teeth. "I said, fuck you, Matt," I repeated. "I'm gonna make you pay for that one later," he smirked, loosening his grip and getting into the car. Jesus, way to make me instantly wet, Matt.

I hopped into the passenger seat, Matt connected his phone and started playing some music, but as soon as he pulled out of the driveway, I disconnected his phone and started connecting my own. "What the fuck!?" Matt yelled, pushing my hands away from the display monitor.

"Hey, both hands on the wheel," I smiled, tickling his side and causing him to swerve. "You're gonna make me crash," Matt barked at me. "You're gonna make yourself crash. You focus on driving. We're listening to TV Girl," I said, putting on 'Cigarettes out the Window.'

"Whatever. At least it's not as annoying as some of the shit you listen to," he rolled his eyes. We pulled up to my apartment. "Wait here. I'll be just a few minutes," I told him. I didn't need much, just a pair of lounging clothes, since all the laundry over at the Sturniolos' was either gymware or my work clothes, so I picked out a tank top and shorts to sleep in. And my vibrator. God, I needed my vibrator. I knew it would be risky, but in case I didn't get to fool around with Matt that night if everyone was home, at least the vibrator was a less risky route.

As soon as I went to reach for it off the top shelf in my closet, I felt a presence come up behind me, and I immediately whipped around. "Jesus, Matt. You scared the fuck out of me," I said embarrassed as I tried to hide my vibrator behind my back. "What do we have here?" Matt said walking up to me as if he were going to hug me, but he reached around my waist and grabbed my vibrator from behind me. "Is this what you use when you think about me?" Matt teased me, examining it.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt," I rolled my eyes at him. "You know, the funniest thing happened when I walked in," Matt whispered. I looked at him inquisitively, unsure of what he was going to say next. "I turned on your faucet, and your water is just fine," Matt replied.

"I know. They called me this morning. I lied to Nick," I admitted, looking away from him. "Why'd you lie?" Matt asked, raising his eyebrows, thinking he already knew the answer. "Oh, you know, trying to save a few bucks on my water bill this month," I giggled and bit my lip.

"Bullshit. I think you were gonna prance around my house, wearing this little white tank top with no bra and these little shorts," Matt said, pointing at my clothes on the bed, "and I think you were gonna tease me all fucking night, and I'm sure you were gonna plan for me to catch you using this on yourself, huh?" He held my vibrator in front of my face. "Anything for me to fuck you silly again, huh? Are you that desperate for my cock?" Matt replied in a condescending tone. God, he was turning me on.

"Stand fucking still, you cheap little whore," Matt ordered me while he pulled down my bottoms, including my underwear. He stood behind me, his hot breath hitting the side of my neck. With one hand, he held my arms behind my back, restraining my wrists and with the other, he turned on my vibrator. Having been stripped down to nothing but my t-shirt and having Matt hindering any movement of my arms while he studied my favorite sex toy brought me to a whole new level of humiliation, and I couldn't get enough of it.

He rested my buzzing toy on my cunt, and I immediately felt my knees grow weak. He leaned in and whispered, "You're such a naughty girl. Lying to Nick. Telling me to go fuck myself. Running around my house being a little tease." I looked up at him lingering over my shoulder and let out a few soft whimpers. "You like making me angry, don't you? You love being punished when you misbehave, huh?" He cooed, and I bit my lip and nodded. "What would Nick say, knowing you lied to him so you could have another chance to get dicked down by me, huh? What do you think he'd think of you, hmm?" He teased me.

I felt the vibrations torturing my clit, reverberating throughout my being, and inching me closer to the edge with every word Matt gruffly whispered in my ear. My moans became more fervent and more desperate. "Please, Matt. I'm so close," I softly responded.

"Well, isn't that a damn shame?" He said, letting go of my wrists and turning off my vibrator, ruining my orgasm. "Put your clothes back on, whore. We should get back before Nick wonders what's taking so long," Matt smirked at me and handed me back my toy.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @mattsbrowser @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @inlovewcock

part four posted here 💖

[kamaluhkhan]

GUILTY AS SIN?

GLUTTONY — part vi of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 3k summary: after a mission gone wrong, you unknowingly take the fall for a friend; you get drunk with the enemy; and you start to think that, if they’re going to crucify you anyway, you might as well indulge in a few fatal fantasies. warnings: set during the last olympian so spoilers for the entire pjo book series; luke + reader get drunk; mention of death + war + reader has some survivor's guilt; smut (unprotected p in v, oral f receiving, kinda sub!luke, brief allusion to knife kink — 18 + MDNI) + angst author's note: not sure how i feel ab this one but i've been workshopping it for weeks so i think her time has come !! also maybe got a bit too deep into book lore oops. also also ive been listening to this song an outrageous amount and i hope i did it justice ANYWAYS lmk what y'all think, thanks sm for reading ♥

♪ "guilty as sin?" by taylor swift

you’re well aware of how suspicious this looks, rendezvousing with the enemy at a sleazy dive bar in the heart of the city. 

he walks in, and your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation. his familiar deep brown eyes are now striking gold, and a streak of gray is woven through his signature dark curls — evidence of the battles you've fought, on opposite sides, and an ominous reminder of a war that has yet to be over. 

as he casually orders himself a drink and one for you, you keep a hand on your concealed dagger. it’s become an instinct of yours, whenever he’s around.

“i didn’t come here to fight.” he assures, catching the glint of your blade. 

“and what about…..” you gesture broadly at him. 

“we’re not entirely synched yet, so it gives him a break whenever i’m in full control,” he explains as though reciting from a textbook (something like how to betray your loved ones and overthrow the olympians 101). “it’s only me tonight. i swear on the river styx.”

a shiver passes through you.

about a year ago, luke tracked you down in new york. apparently, kronos was pushing him to do something extreme, and luke felt conflicted. 

you thought it had to be some sort of cruel joke, because you could not think of anything more extreme than what luke had already done in facilitating a war between gods and titans. you had no patience for his crocodile tears, not after he played you so well the first time. 

you told him as much, then told him to fuck off. 

to be fair, you didn’t know that would lead to him bathing in the river styx and becoming a vessel for the titan lord himself.

luke wears the curse of achilles well: all strong muscles and sharp angles, his tan skin glowing ever-so slightly, and his body devoid of any fresh cuts or bruises despite surviving an explosion just a few days prior. 

“so….what? you’re the pilot whenever kronos needs to take a really long nap?” 

“i’d say timeshare is the closest way to describe it.” 

“50/50 ownership?”

“more like 90/10.”

you scoff. “sounds like a scam.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. it reminds you so much of old times, his boyish charm peeking through whenever a camper would try to pull a prank on him, and then complain when he’d beat them to the punch. 

“it’s just me,” he repeats, but you didn’t need any more confirmation.

you know deep in your gut, from that mischievous smirk alone: it’s not the lord of time, but luke castellan next to you.

the bar is surprisingly busy for a weeknight. there’s a game being shown on TV, and people wearing sports jerseys occasionally groan or cheer or come to the counter to order another pint for their table while keeping their eyes glued to the screen. the jukebox in the corner plays music from the 70s and 80s as a group of friends starts to dance, tipsy after a deadly combination of jello shots and sangria.

for the first few drinks, you and luke are silent, letting these sounds of regular human existence fill the space between you. you half-expect him to ask about law school admissions, or the new tattoo you got on your upper thigh, or your band’s latest show — all fragments of your own mundane mortal life used to distract yourself from demigod realities. 

he doesn’t, though. luke just stares at the hockey game, one you know for a fact he doesn’t care about because the rangers aren’t playing, as he sips his old-fashioned like he has all the time in the world. 

“did you wanna meet so we could just sit here in silence or….”

when you had agreed to this meeting, you had a clear goal in mind: find out who the spy is and clear your name.

it might be too much rum or the crushing weight of recent events, but you no longer have the energy nor the drive to be strategic or even cautious around luke. now, you’re looking for a cure to your bone deep boredom and heartache.

"no. i’m here because….” he falters and runs a hand through his hair. “look, i heard about what happened at camp. and, with beck —” 

“dying?” you finish, taking one last gulp of your drink. all the rage, resentment and grief you’ve been feeling has been lodged in your throat. you’d hope each sip of your dark and stormy would burn through it, but instead it comes tumbling from your lips. 

“honestly, beck would probably still be alive if you didn’t join the dark side. i guess you’re kinda leading the dark side now, aren’t you luke? what’s that like?” 

luke polishes off his drink, too, his cheeks flushed. he gestures at the bartender for a third round of drinks. or is it fourth? 

“don’t be a dick,” luke sighs once a replenished glass is placed in front of him. “i obviously never wanted to hurt you — any of you.”

if you were of sober mind, maybe you’d point out that it’s too late; that luke already hurt all of you the minute he decided to side with kronos.

“i know i did, though,” he adds after swallowing a mouthful of his drink. 

you know that if luke was of sober mind, he would never have admitted that. he seems to know better than to apologize though, hopefully recognizing that the damage has already been done. 

it’s not like your hands aren’t bloody, too. 

“it was supposed to be me, you know?” you let out a watery laugh. “i was supposed to go with percy on the mission, but beck offered to go instead because he thought — he knew — that it would….it would be hard for me to see…. you.”

luke pauses and turns away from you. “you couldn’t have known what would happen.” his voice wavers, too. “beckendorf was looking out for you — it’s what he does. did.”

“i couldn’t even go to the funeral,” you continue. “i feel like i didn’t really get to say goodbye, you know?”

 “yeah,” luke hums sorrowfully. “mourning someone who fought for the gods isn’t really allowed where i am.”

again, you could point out the irony in what he’s saying. given everything he’s done, luke dug his own grave and clearly some for his friends, too. 

tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. the reality is that one of your best friends died because you couldn’t handle an encounter with your ex-boyfriend, the one you’re currently sitting beside. 

you might not have done what they accused you of, but you’re nowhere near innocent. who were you to give yourself permission to cry?

in the dim neon light, you notice a tear slide down luke’s cheek before he wipes it away just as fast.

he clears his throat. “to charles beckendorf: a hero by any other name.”

you tap your glass against luke’s, and you both drink in honor of your lost friend. you drink to everyone and everything you’ve lost, too. 

beckendorf is dead; chris has lost his mind; clarisse might start her own war with the apollo cabin over a flying chariot; and ever since the princess andromeda mission went terribly wrong, silena can’t go one minute without bursting into tears. 

it was too easy for everything to fall apart, as though this was always what the fates had in store for you — the next generation of greek tragedies. 

thankfully, there always comes a break in the tragedy, and it seems to be now: you and luke, getting drunk off whiskey and rum and old memories. 

you remember countless times sneaking out to the beach after curfew, mixing store-brand soda with cheap alcohol smuggled into camp by luke’s half-brothers; hot summer nights spent fantasizing about existence outside of camp and returning to your head counselor duties in the morning with chiron and mr. d none the wiser. once you started dating, it became routine for the two of you to wander away from the group for some privacy, somewhere far enough away so that no one could hear you scream luke’s name.

those memories still make your skin flush, even as you’re here drinking cocktails at a bar in the city, with one friend gone to elysium and everyone else calling you a traitor.

“i can’t believe you don’t remember that night! mr. d caught a few senior campers getting drunk in his office? they stole a super expensive bottle of wine, threw up all over the carpet, and had to spend the rest of the night cleaning it?” 

you continue shaking your head. you tip your glass back to capture the last drops of amber liquid before confessing:  

“what i remember is spending the whole night jealous of malcolm pace because he got to slow dance with you.”

luke lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, then he’s silent for a few moments.

“i love this song,” luke muses, words blurring together. “i haven’t heard it in a while.” he finishes his drink and sets the glass down, holding his hand out to you. 

your brain is a bit foggy from all the alcohol, so it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s asking. 

“you wanna dance?”

“yeah,” he answers. “make up for lost time.”

it’s not until you feel luke’s chest pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your waist, that you register what song is currently playing.

“downtown lights” by the blue nile — luke had spent so long trying to find the right song for your first time together. 

you told him not to worry, teased him a bit for planning every detail so meticulously, but deep down, your heart swelled with how much he cared.

the empty hermes cabin during capture-the-flag, both of you pretending to be too injured from sparring practice to play. luke’s sweaty hands fumbling with the condom, you having to step in and rip the wrapper with your teeth. clothes being haphazardly thrown on so you could run back to the infirmary before anyone noticed. silent vows to do it again, and again, and again. 

the more time spent exploring and experimenting, the more you got the rhythm of each other’s bodies, knew how to make the other squirm and throw their head back in pleasure — and that didn’t just go away when luke joined kronos’ army. 

even when your loyalties were more clear, your consciousness was plagued with visions of you and luke together, ones that left your sheets burning, more than the blazing summer heat. you confided in silena about these once, and she assured you that there is no such thing as bad thoughts. 

she did warn you, though: it’s when you indulge in these fantasies that they risk becoming fatal.

now, thinking back and forth between memories with luke and the events of this past very shitty week, you realize that maybe that’s why you’re here.

despite everything you’ve done, you supposedly betrayed people you consistently fight beside, fight for; you were thrown out of a place you once considered home and told never to come back. 

you were doomed from the start — a daughter of nemesis, assumed to be wicked and revenge-seeking since birth. 

well, if they’re going to crucify you anyway…..

once the song ends, you ask:

“you wanna go outside for a smoke?”

your hands start playing with the curls at the base of luke’s neck, hinting at what you were hoping comes next.

luke licks his lips, gold eyes darker than before. 

“guess you’re itching to put that celestial bronze to good use,” he says lowly.

“only if you ask nicely,” you drawl. 

luke blushes. 

you pull away from him, start walking towards the back exit, and pray that he follows you. 

—

this is why meeting with you was dangerous: there’s no one else in the world – god, titan, or otherwise – luke castellan would get on his knees for, let alone in the filthy alley behind a bar.  

technically, kronos sent luke here to recruit you. 

the scythe charm — the one used to communicate with silena — sits heavy in his pocket. it’s part of the reason why you were exiled from camp, why your friends don’t look at you the same way. why you can’t ever go back home, not really. 

luke imagines you might resent those who threw you out of camp, but you would never betray them. he knew that you weren’t likely to join kronos’ army.

he’s thankful that, at the very least, you still have a penchant for breaking some rules. 

the two of you are a tangled mess of teeth and tongue. luke tastes the spiciness of ginger beer and rum, mixed with sweetness from the clove cigarette you just smoked. you lock one leg around luke’s hip, and the brief glimpse of your lacy black underwear has him throbbing. one of your hands slips underneath his shirt to trace the contours of his abdomen. luke’s breath hitches when your hand reaches down even further. 

“wait –” you pause your actions to let luke finish his sentence, and already he regrets voicing his hollow concern. “i….i probably should not be doing this.”

“me neither,” you concede, breathing steadily.“but, they already think i’m guilty.”  with your other hand, your thumb dances over his kiss-swollen lips and luke feels something ignite in the pit of his stomach. “maybe i am, with how much i think about you.”

luke knows what’s at stake for him, if anyone finds out, but in a booze-soaked haze and with you looking at him like that, he can’t seem to care. 

it’s coming back to him now: that endless cycle of waking up sticky and drenched in sweat over dreams of screaming your name and going about his day like it wasn’t a paradox to be leading kronos’ army and still wanting someone aligned with the enemy to devour him. 

when he agreed, however reluctantly, to be a vessel for kronos, luke had to lock those desires inside a vault deep inside his mind. 

this might very well be luke’s last chance to satisfy his cravings, once and for all. tonight, he’s in full control of his body and mind. 

he’ll happily yield his power to you. 

soon enough, your teeth gnaw on his top lip as luke messily thrusts into you, your underwear hastily pushed to the side. he tries to savor every part of this, of you — the heel of your combat boot digging into his back; the sting of your nails where you grip him; the familiar scent of your skin, sickly sweet cherries and burnt vanilla; the hoarseness of your voice, encouraging him to go faster, harder. following your orders, luke wraps both of your legs around his waist and digs his fingers further into your hips to keep them secure.

it’s a religious experience, watching you throw your head back against the brick wall as your orgasm crashes through you. luke follows a few seconds later, pulling out just in time to paint the inside of your thighs with his cum.

luke grins as he watches you come down from your high, eyes closed, chest heaving, neck engraved with the outline of his teeth.

“sorry, didn’t mean to give you a concussion.”

you open your eyes just to roll them at luke, who’s tucking himself back into his jeans.

“you’re such an asshole,” you jest through labored breaths, registering his shit-eating grin. you fix the hem of your leather skirt and pout dramatically. “and you had to leave a mess behind, didn’t you?”

without another word, luke kneels in front of you. 

he leans his head back to admire how your lips curl into a bemused smile at his antics. your fingers press into his pulse point, no doubt feeling how reckless his heartbeat becomes underneath you. once more, your thumb prods at his lips; this time luke grants access, the cold metal of your ring burning on his tongue. 

“is this how you pledged loyalty to your titan king?” you taunt. 

luke shakes his head, still sucking your digit. 

he did have to bow, but not like this. the only entity he’d worship this desperately is you. 

“i’m honored,” you coo. luke bites back a whimper when you remove your thumb from his mouth, instead tracing the scar on his face, up his cheekbone. “i have to say though: i miss your brown eyes, pretty boy.”

his whole body is on fire with how you touch him, but your passing observation feels like a knife to the gut. wanting to be good for you, to prove he’s still your pretty boy, luke pushes up the bottom of your skirt so it bunches around your waist. 

“luke!” you attempt to scold, concealing a moan when his teeth graze your clit through the damp fabric of your underwear. “someone might see.”

“it’ll be fine, baby,” he assures. “is this new?” luke is mesmerized by the fresh ink on your thigh, fingers trailing over swirling black lines. 

you hum, a goddess gazing down on her disciple. “do you like it?”

luke nods. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, journeying across your skin, tasting salty sweat mixed with his cum drying between your legs. he hears your whimpers for more. he complies and plunges two fingers beneath the lace until you reach your peak. luke places one last kiss to your core, before getting up again.

you crash your lips onto his, and you’re kissing him the way you did back when you really loved him, chaotic and feverish. your fingers snake through his curls, and you tug on them just enough to make luke’s head spin. 

you’re somehow more intoxicating than however many drinks he downed earlier.

he sees something simmering behind your eyes, when you ask if he wants to come back to your apartment. you both know you shouldn’t, but honestly — in the grand scheme of things, what’s one more sin?as the two of you are tangled beneath your bedsheets, you decide to frame it differently, as a mutual vow: maybe just one more time will satisfy this hunger.

[primaviva]

PUCK YOU

featuring. hockey!ellie williams x fem!reader synopsis. after winning the final game of the season, ellie wants you to join her in celebrating in the locker room. warnings. descriptions of the female body, suggestive content, hardcore making out ( i. e. breast play, grinding, hair pulling…) read at your own discretion

eighty six—the number that defined your girlfriend's prowess on the ice.

it was the number you witnessed gliding effortlessly across the frozen surface, scoring goals with a mighty grip on the hockey stick. it was the number you saw when her frustration reached its peak, her helmet flying across the room, marked unmistakably with that bold eighty six.

and now, as you watched the game unfold, you proudly donned the same number on your back. the vibrant red jersey draped your frame in a comfortably oversized, boyfriend-style fit. originally ellie's, she had lovingly given it to you, fully aware of your affinity for wearing her clothes, with the added sentiment that it’s her team jersey adorning your figure as you cheered her on during games.

in the highly anticipated matchup against the seattle krakens, ellie found herself facing off against her arch-nemesis, abby anderson, who always seemed to harbor an unspoken animosity towards her. perhaps it stemmed from abby's envy of ellie's successes in the industry, or maybe it was fueled by a longing to occupy the same position. whatever the reason, their encounters invariably generated newsworthy headlines.

ellie was well aware of the power of making headlines, understanding that the public loved a good rivalry. the crowd, amused by the tension between ellie and abby, eagerly absorbed every moment of them clashing on the monitors. well, everyone but you. unlike the spectators, you knew the toll it took on ellie. while you delighted in witnessing the furrow of ellie's brows and the intensity in her evergreen gaze, you understood the weight of her anger, knowing how overwhelming those emotions could be for her during gameplay. ellie also just didn’t like getting angry, as she knew how terrible she could get when succumbing to the emotion.

as the game against the seattle krakens reached its exhilarating climax, the scoreboard displayed a tense deadlock. "ellie" and "abby" reverberated through the arena, transforming into a fierce battle of vocal support among the spectators. the names echoed through the crowd, each fan fervently chanting for their favorite player to emerge victorious.

you leaned forward, leaning over the barrier that separated the passionate crowd from the icy battleground. eager to catch a glimpse of the unfolding spectacle, you yearned for a front-row view of the action.

"kick her ass!" your voice rang out, carried by a surge of adrenaline as you fervently waved your hands in the air, willing ellie to triumph with every fiber of your being.

with each stride, ellie's instincts took over. in a swift, fluid motion, ellie seized control of the puck, effortlessly maneuvering past defenders with her unmatched skill. among the sea of opponents, her eyes locked onto abby, her greatest rival, who relentlessly pursued her, driven by a desire to strip ellie of the puck. with precision and agility, ellie danced around abby's relentless advances, her stickwork a symphony of finesse. the crowd watched in awe as the two players engaged in a thrilling duel, but with a burst of speed, your girlfriend left abby in her wake, weaving through the defense.the crowd held their breath, captivated by the scene before them.

the ice seemed to tremble beneath her skates as she closed in on the goal, her heart pounding in her chest. time seemed to stand still as she unleashed a powerful shot, puck sailing through the air and evading the outstretched glove of the goaltender, finding the back of the net. satisfying, it reverberated with a resounding thud as the puck found its mark, securing victory for ellie's team. the arena erupted in a chorus of thunderous cheers, the crowd's jubilation mirroring the euphoria in ellie's own heart.

as the final buzzer echoed through the arena, signaling the end of the intense match, the spectators began to disperse, their cheers fading into the background. ellie along with her team members, elated by their hard-fought victory, eagerly made their way to the locker room to celebrate.

that was the routine of those games. the teams would go to the locker rooms to change out of their gear until they come back out to wait for their bus which left a little later as the coaches made sure the media got some press with the stars of the teams. you would wait for ellie outside of the lockers to greet her with a well deserved kiss and hug before it was time to hit the road.

however, what wasn’t apart of the routine was ellie taking much longer than her teammates, to the point where everyone had left the lockers to go outside and get some fresh air in the dark night sky. usually ellie was eager to get out of her sweaty uniform and lay flat on the floor in relief that it was over, one time she had practically taken her shirt off before leaving the rink.

as you contemplated walking inside, dina, one of ellie's teammates, approached you with a knowing look.

"dina, where's ellie?" you inquired, crossing your arms over your chest as you eagerly awaited her answer.

the raven-head sighed softly, her eyes conveying a sense of understanding to your anxious state. "she's still in the locker room," dina replied, voice laced with empathy. "she needed a moment to calm down. it got pretty intense out there."

your heart skipped a beat as you took in dina's words. you knew all too well how overwhelming emotions could be for ellie, especially in the aftermath of a fiercely contested game like this one. without a second thought, you made your way towards the locker room.

as you entered the dimly lit space, the air was heavy with exhaustion. and there, in the corner, you spotted ellie, her figure slumped on a bench, her equipment scattered haphazardly around her. the sweat glistening on her forehead and the lingering fire in her eyes showed you all you needed to know.

her distant expression revealed a mind lost in deep contemplation, seemingly oblivious to the world around her, including your presence at the doorway.

"ellie," you softly called out, breaking the spell of her introspection.

in an instant, her head snapped up, the fog of her thoughts dissipating as a radiant, toothy smile graced her face. it was the kind of infectious grin that only ellie, with her unique brand of endearing quirkiness, could effortlessly rock. rising from the bench, standing tall as she strode purposefully towards you.

closing the distance between you, ellie enveloped you in her strong arms, lifting you up effortlessly off the ground. her face nestled into the crook of your neck, her warm breath sending gentle shivers down your spine.

the world outside the locker room faded away—as she held you, you could feel the weight of the game lifting from alongside her.

"there you are," she murmured against your neck, her voice muffled but happy nonetheless.

amidst stifled laughter, you attempted to speak. "did you hear me cheering?" you managed to ask.

"how could i not hear you, baby? you were the loudest one out there," ellie retorted, another smile gracing her face. she loved how supportive you always were of her. "thank you for always being there for my games. it means a lot to me, having my beautiful girl cheering me on."

tenderly, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her pale green eyes brimming with warmth and love. on the field, ellie exuded toughness and fierceness, but with you, her armor melted away, revealing a softer, caring side that you brought out in her.

you couldn't help but chuckle at her remark about being the loudest, preferring to describe her as passionate. "you good?" you asked, your gaze fixed on her as your vision readjusted from being taken to the ground. "i know how much it gets to you when abby tries to rile you up during games."

ellie let out a sigh at the mention of abby. "i'm fine, don't worry about her," she replied, her voice laced with frustration, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck.

but you could see the tension in her jaw, the way her body seemed to hold onto the irritation caused by abby's actions.

"thanks for checking on me," she expressed, her voice softer now. ellie leaned down, resting her forehead against yours, and released a deep sigh. it felt as if she were fully surrendering her body weight onto you, relying on your support. she was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

you weren’t buying tickets to her act.

as you studied her face, you noticed her tightly shut eyes and the creases forming around them. "i find it hard to believe you're okay. you look exhausted. sit," you firmly stated, placing your hands on her shoulders and gently guiding her back down onto the bench, encouraging her to rest.

ellie sighed and didn't resist as you made her sit back down on the bench. as tough as she was, she knew better than to argue with you when you used that tone.

"you know me too well,” ellie noted as she relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, closing her eyes. you always seemed to see right through her facade of being fine. the game had taken more out of her than she cared to admit.

you sat there, quietly observing her presence. the sheen of sweat adorned her forehead, causing strands of stray hair to cling to the sides. her skin appeared moist, a clear indication that she had recently stepped off the rink. your eyes remained fixed on her, capturing the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each inhale and exhale, a rhythmic cadence that grew slower and more deliberate. as you watched, your mind couldn't help but wander, envisioning the strength and definition of her abs concealed beneath her jersey. surely, the intensity of her performance left her core muscles taut and sculpted.

"will you sit with me for a bit?" she questioned, opening one eye to look at you hopefully. ellie just wanted a few quiet moments with you before the crowds dispersed. your presence alone seemed to ease her fatigue.

you nodded silently, a wordless affirmation of your unwavering support, before settling down beside her. her eyes attentively followed your every movement, capturing each subtle motion as you took your place next to her. she kept her gaze fixed on you, her emerald eyes shimmering in the softly lit room, as if trying to memorize every detail before finally closing them, her head finding solace against the wall.

"i really do appreciate you," she spoke amongst the silence. reaching for your hand, she brought it to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon it.

ellie, the dominant force on the field, always had a calm vulnerability in your presence. you provided the equilibrium she needed, a balance that no one else could offer.

you couldn't help but giggle at the sensations elicited by her tender kiss on your hand. "don't thank me," you playfully responded, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes. "come on, let me help you get undressed." as you rose from your seat, you noticed a devilish smirk on her face. "i didn't mean it like that, so don't even think about it," you emphasized, walking between her open legs as she sat, firmly grasping the bottom of her jersey.

she teasingly placed her hands behind your thighs, as if mockingly trying to keep you in place, before finally relenting and allowing you to proceed with removing her from her sweaty uniform.

"you know i can’t help myself around you," ellie playfully remarked, punctuating her words with a wink. however, as you tended to her, ellie surrendered herself to your caring touch, feeling the tightness in her muscles melt away.

she raised her arms, a silent invitation for you to remove her jersey. with gentle and skillful movements, you carefully pulled the fabric over her head, revealing the glistening sheen of perspiration on her skin. moving on, you deftly unfastened her shoulder pads, followed by her elbow pads. the expression on her face spoke volumes, a mixture of relief and gratitude as the weight of the protective gear was lifted from her.

ellie grinned up at you, thoroughly enjoying teasing you even when exhausted. you were just so cute when you got flustered. but she resisted making any other suggestive comments as you helped remove her pads and gear. she could tell you were going into protective girlfriend mode to take care of her.

as the last piece came off, ellie sighed in relief. "god, that’s so much better, thank you. i feel lighter already." she pulled you closer between her legs so your bodies were pressed together, though mindful not to squeeze you too tightly in her tired state. the tension began to ease from her muscles.

you just had that calming presence which soothed ellie's nerves. just being close to you helped her unwind after the stress of competition. she leaned back and closed her eyes contentedly.

"come here," ellie beckoned, extending her arm towards you, her desire for your closeness evident. "i just want to hold my girl before having to sit through a three-hour bus ride," she joked, a bit of truth in her statement.

with hesitation and curiosity, you placed your hand in hers, uncertain of what she had in mind. but before you could fully anticipate her next move, ellie swiftly pulled you into her lap, enveloping you in her embrace.

the suddenness of the action surprised you, but as you settled into her lap, you felt a wave of warmth and security wash over you. nestled against her, you could hear the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

ellie wrapped her strong arms securely around your waist as you settled into her lap. she rested her chin on your shoulder and breathed you in deeply.

"mmm, there's my girl,” she whispered. holding you always made ellie feel centered. like the rest of the world faded away and it was just the two of you. she nuzzled softly against your neck, placing gentle kisses along your skin. "i love you so much," she spoke while holding you tighter, hoping you knew how much you meant to her.

ellie's tired muscles relaxed further as she embraced you. your presence alone seemed to ease the strain from her body. she rocked you gently in her arms, enjoying this quiet moment of intimacy.

"i love you too," you whispered in response, your words filled with nothing less of love. ellie's gaze locked onto yours, her pupils dilating as she immersed herself in the depths of your eyes. in that intimate exchange, she sought to discover every shade, every intricate detail that made your eyes uniquely yours.

her hand, which had secured your waist, embarked on a slow and agonizing path up your back, sending a tantalizing shiver along your spine. it finally settled at the nape of your neck, her touch both gentle and possessive. with a firm grasp, she guided your head towards hers, closing the distance between your lips.

ellie kissed you softly yet deeply, savoring the feeling of your lips against hers. all the anxiety and frustration from the game seemed to melt away in your affectionate embrace.

she gently traced her tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance in a way that was loving yet dominant. her hand cradled the back of your head tenderly even as she pulled you in closer.

kissing you always made ellie feel possessive yet protective at the same time. like she never wanted to let you go. she loved you so fiercely it sometimes scared her. but she knew you were the only one who truly saw her for who she was—not just an athlete but a person.

as your lips moved in perfect harmony, a sensuous dance of desire, you became lost in the intoxicating rhythm. the magnetic pull between you seemed irresistible, drawing you into a world where nothing else mattered but her body. the wetness of her mouth and the mingling of saliva heightened the intensity, an unspoken language shared between you both.

when you reluctantly parted to catch your breath, a thin strand of saliva lingered, connecting you both momentarily. ellie leaned her forehead against yours, her breaths heavy and labored. her pale green eyes bore into yours, radiating warmth and unbridled desire. “i need you,” she expressed with a raw simplicity, her voice husky and filled with need. in your embrace, ellie found solace, the only place where true tranquility resided.

ellie craved an outlet, a means to divert her frustrations and escape the overwhelming demands of the game. and in that moment, there was no better distraction than being consumed by thoughts of you, her mind freed from pucks and goalies.

with a swift gesture, she wiped away the saliva from her chin before firmly gripping your jaw, drawing your lips back to hers. the kiss intensified, akin to the crashing of rough waves against a sailor's vessel. each crash left an imprint, and you could sense the tender fullness of your lips bruising under the passionate onslaught.

a deep, resonant moan escaped your throat, merging with the union of your mouths. your hands found purchase on her shoulders as you adjusted yourself, straddling her waist with a sense of urgency.

ellie growled low in her throat at your moan, arousal spiking through her body in an instant. she gripped your hips tighter, grinding you against her as your movements stirred her growing need.

kissing you deeper, ellie dominated your mouth with her tongue, possessing you completely. one hand slid up your back, fingers clutching possessively. the other tangled in your hair to hold you right where she wanted.

she kissed like she played—with a fiery intensity and competitive drive to claim victory. ellie poured all her pent up passion and longing into the kiss, asserting her dominance yet caring for you completely.

when you finally broke apart again, panting heavily, ellie gazed at you with lust-darkened eyes. "fuck, baby, you're so hot,” she groaned, nipping along your jaw and down your neck, leaving her mark.

ellie was throbbing with want, craving the intimate release only you could give her after a game.

"ellie, did you forget we're in the locker room?" you began to protest, but ellie's touch interrupted your words, cupping your clothed boobs and giving them a slow yet tender squeeze. you hated how flustered she got you, especially when there were other people around. “cut the shit," you pleaded, but deep down, you knew that you were just as eager to help ellie find release from her stress.

ellie chuckled low in her throat at how easily she could rile you up. your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils told her exactly how turned on you were despite your words.

with a mischievous grin, ellie met your plea while giving your breasts another b squeeze. "aw, come on, baby, don't pretend you don't love it when i get you all hot and bothered," she teased, her voice low and seductive.

ellie lived for the challenge of pushing your buttons and claiming your body as her own, even with others so close. the thrill of potentially getting caught only served to heighten her arousal.

she leaned in to nibble your earlobe sensually, "bet i can make you cum before we even leave this room." ellie's hand slid down your stomach to cup your clit through your jeans.

"what do you say? want to put on a little after show for me?" she gripped your ass firmly with her other hand, grinding you down against her. ellie knew all your secrets and weaknesses, and was more than willing to exploit them.

you couldn't help but mumble, "fuck," as your hands gripped on her hair. you moved in for another kiss without thinking twice as you were too needy to keep her mouth to yourself.

ellie kissed you hungrily, all her earlier arousal igniting into an inferno. she moaned against your mouth at the feel of your hands gripping her hair firmly. oh, how the girl loved it when you took charge and matched her dominance with your own.

it was as if she was starving for you, devouring your mouth possessively. she grounded up against your core, feeling how wet you were already through your jeans. ellie delighted in unraveling your composure and leaving you a panting, wanting mess.

her hands roamed your body possessively, gripping your ass to grind you down harder. ellie sucked your bottom lip between her teeth, nipping teasingly. she wanted you aching and desperate for her. your girlfriend loved how responsive your body was to her touch, how you melted under her.

breaking the kiss momentarily, ellie gazed up at you with eyes dark with lust. "god, you're so fucking hot. think anyone would notice if i made you come right here?"

she traced delicate patterns on your warm skin, teasing ever closer to your core. ellie lived to unravel you, reduce you to a flushed, quivering mess before claiming your pleasure as her own. she rolled her hips up in a slow, deep circle, applying delicious friction directly against your clit now. ellie was determined to push you over the edge before letting you leave this locker room.

ellie groaned at your nails scraping across her scalp, spurring her desire higher. she kissed you back fervently, delving her tongue between your lips to tangle with your own.

your desperate little noises only served to spur her on. ellie was going to thoroughly ravish you right here, right now, and to hell with anyone who might catch them. you were hers.

"you're gonna make a mess of your uniform," you managed to gasp out, your words challenged by hushed breaths and the rapid beating of your heart. in the grand scheme of things, her uniform should have been the least of your concerns, but your mind was clouded, rendering you unable to think clearly.

ellie chuckled low in her throat as you panted and squirmed in her lap. you were always so cute when she had you this worked up.

"that's what the showers are for, baby." she rolled her hips up in another slow, deep grind against your clit. ellie nibbled along your neck hungrily, branding you with love bites. "don't care about the uniform, i just want you,” she declared while kissing you hard, refusing to break eye contact as her hand slid under your low waisted jeans.

ellie knew exactly how to unravel you, where to touch to draw out your pleasure. she could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear as you ground yourself down against her hand. your girlfriend swallowed your soft moans, owning your mouth completely as your hips began to ride her expert fingers.

her hands slid under the famous eighty six jersey she lent you to caress and squeeze your breasts skin on skin. ellie tweaked your nipples between her fingertips, rubbing them into stiff peaks.

"bet you’re close already," ellie muttered. she kissed you fiercely, tongue plunging into your mouth in time with her grinding hips.

ellie was throbbing with her own needs but lived for your pleasure above her own. she would push you over the edge a thousand times just to see your blissful expression.

the hockey player took such pride and satisfaction in reducing you to a quivering mess so quickly. and she hadn't even fucked you properly yet. by the time she was through, you'd be putty in her hands.

she smirked, loving how close she had you already. you began subconsciously grinding yourself on her through, back and forth as you sucked her tongue in your mouth. your moans of pleasure were like music to her ears.

"that's it baby, ride my thigh. feel how wet you're making me?" she continued to talk you through, emphasizing her words by grinding up against your core once more.

ellie captivated your lips in another searing kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. her hands gripped your ass possessively, helping lift and lower your hips.

“ellie,” you mumbled, the intensity of the moment consuming you, as rational thoughts and the ability to express them struggled to break through the haze of desire.

the brunette's head quipped up as soon as she saw your beautiful visage. it was one of her favorite things to do at these times, to simply observe the obscene looks on your face that she made herself, tight with pleasure.

ellie took such pride and satisfaction in reducing you to a quivering mess so quickly. and she hadn't even fucked you properly yet. by the time she was through, you'd be putty in her hands.

“yeah? if you have something to say, you gotta use your words (y/n). so if you want it, then tell me you want to cum all over my hand while i fuck you right here,” ellie taunted, now nipping at your bottom lip, her husky voice dripping dominance and desire.

the words that escaped her lips left you stunned, rendering you momentarily speechless. your eyes watched her intently as she adjusted her stance against the wall. her every movement seemed deliberate, commanding your attention.

with trembling hands, you reached out to steady yourself against a nearby surface, the weight of her words sinking in as you opted for the wall behind ellie. as she moved her arm once more, your gaze followed. her strong fingers dipped past the fabric to tease your entrance eagerly. "come on baby, don't leave me hanging,” ellie ordered gruffly, knowing the sound of her voice could send you over the edge.

she held you flush against her body, grinding up to meet your every roll of hips. you swallowed each other's moans with deep kisses, tongues tangling erotically. ellie was determined to push you over the edge right here in this very locker room.

all of a sudden, a disruptive knocking sound echoed through the locker room door, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy that had enveloped you both. a voice, belonging to joel, ellie's hockey coach, seeped through the other side, brimming with impatience.

"ellie, hurry up! the bus is outside, and our asses will leave you here to hitchhike if you don't come out in the next five minutes," joel's voice boomed, giving his last warning to your girlfriend.

you exchanged a knowing glance, the disappointment and longing apparent in your eyes. ellie growled in frustration as joel's voice interrupted your intense moment. of course, right when she was finally forgetting her problems, the problem came knocking on the door.

"shit," she muttered under her breath. ellie rested her forehead against yours as you both panted from being out of breath, the rhythm of your heartbeats gradually slowing, but the desire within you remaining unquenched.

"we're not done here," ellie whispered huskily, giving your ass a possessive squeeze.

louder so joel could hear, she called out, "yeah yeah, we're coming!" you tried not to laugh, but ellie giggled to herself, a sly smile on her face at the double meaning which caused you to roll your eyes.

ellie's lips pressed against yours for one final, ravenous kiss, a bittersweet taste that left you yearning for more. "we’re gonna finish this later, i promise,” she declared in a hushed tone, fueling what already thrummed between you.

with a playful slap on your ass whilst she got off the bench, ellie teased you, her touch electric against your skin. time was of the essence as you swiftly assisted her in changing out of her hockey gear and into more comfortable clothes.

the weight of disappointment settled upon both of you, and with mutual understanding, you tenderly brushed each other's disheveled hair back into place. gently, you attempted to wipe the sweat from each other's faces, trying to look as unsuspecting as possible. Not to mention, it was also severely embarrassing.

leaving the confines of the locker room, you stepped outside and joined ellie's teammates on the bus. taking your places among them, you immersed yourself in the multiple topics that would usually take place, ranging from animated discussions about the game to reflections on personal improvement and snippets of their everyday lives. or, they simply just talked shit about the other team and how stupid their name was—it could even go as far as saying how ugly and mismatched the team colors would be.

ellie knew you'd be aching for her touch until then. it would be a long, frustrating bus ride for both of you back to jackson. but the anticipation would make the payoff so much sweeter.

she knew she would get her after-game reward.

[lyssak09]

Hi how are you?

Maybe this request of mine can be complicated so if you want not to do it, I understand...

Well, what if the reader is the new survivor in the entity's Realm and catches the attention of the yanderes, making them obsessed and in love with the reader, and of course the reader doesn't realize that... What would happen?

The Yanderes would be: Nemesis, Michael Myres, Pyramid Head, Pinhead, Trapper, Leon, Dwight, Felix, Jack.

I only wrote for Michael, Pyramid Head, and Pinhead for this one. I'm spliting this up so this part will have the killers and another post will have the survivors. I have the killers done but not the survivors so instead of waiting to finish them to post this, why not split it up? Thanks to my sister for helping me out with this one as well!! Happy reading

Michael Myers:

Of course, like most killers, he first saw you in a trial. 

He saw you working on a generator with Claudette. Her face went pale as she pulled you away from the generator.

You, being new, didn’t know what she was doing and just followed her not questioning anything that she was doing. 

Michael took a great interest as a way to play with his new prey.

Even though Claudette seemed to have dragged you away, she didn’t go far enough since Michael appeared out of nowhere. 

You had heard him tier up once already, and this was now the second time. 

He grabbed Claudette and stabbed her, leaving you too scared to move. You didn’t know he was there, how had he snuck up on you guys so fast?

He dropped Claudette’s lifeless body on the group, looking back towards you. 

The fear on your face was amusing to him.

He wanted to see more of it. 

He walked towards you, trying to make you move.

Which worked amazingly, since you turned and sprinted in the other direction.

He trailed behind you a ways away, making sure that his heartbeat would fade away, making you think you were safe.

You wandered towards your last two teammates, Dwight and Meg, working on a generator together.

You tried to help them work on the gen, but of course, Michael had to make sure to implement more fear into you.

His heartbeat got closer and closer, but none of you guys knew where he was

That was until he grabbed Meg off the generator and stabbed her.

Dwight ran away, also causing the generator to blow up.

Then it was just you and him.

You froze in fear, expecting him to hook you or just straight up stab you. But he didn't

Michael was confused. He couldn't kill you. This was nothing like how he normally feels. He feels satisfied when killing. But now, he was frustrated.

What about you makes him like this? He had to find out. So he didn't kill you. Just downed you and placed you in the shack. 

Right on top of the hatch.

Pyramid Head:

Pyramid Head is a bipolar yandere. He is also obsessive and possessive.

So he is definitely not gonna share. 

He is usually a ‘kind’ (by yandere standards in dbd) yandere, but on some days he can be cruel. Not as cruel as others though.

When he learned about your presence, he knew he didn’t want to leave you.

It did not take long for you to get put into a trial with him. 

Like Michael, he tried his best to kill all of your teammates before you could save them. 

Forcing them into his trails and putting them in the Cage of Atonement when you got too close. 

But, if you got too close to the Cage, he would just walk closer towards it, making it teleport away from where you both were. 

It was basically a game seeing who would get to the survivor first.

If someone else tried to save them, he would force them to go down and trade with the person in the cage.

He repeated this until you were the last one left.

You were all his now.

You scurried like a mouse, trying to find the hatch, before hearing its winding presence of freedom. 

As you ran towards the noise, you saw him standing over the hatch, his terror radius was completely gone. Behind him, a broken generator, that was nearly done, was left sparking. 

He had Trail of Torment. 

But he didn’t close it even though he could see you.

He just stood there.

You turned to run away, but you could hear the swing of his metal sword going through the air.

You turned back around to see him still standing on the hatch, but he was gesturing towards it with his head.

He wanted you to have it.

On days/trials where he has been pissed off, he is not so nice, even to you. Will he torment you as much as the other survivors in the trial? No. But he is gonna give you the hatch like usual? Hell no

Pinhead:

Pinhead is a Possessive yandere, but he is also very narcissistic and sadistic.

So he won’t share, but he will also talk about himself and himself only.

If you ever heard him while he was talking to anyone, he would literally only talk about himself.

But, you had only heard him talking to someone else once.

Needless to say, that was the last time you ever wanted to hear him talk.

He is sadistic, so he is mean. He’ll purposely tunnel you in trails just to hear you cry.

It's one of his favorite noises.

When you first met him in a trial, he wasn’t nice to you once so ever. He learned that he loves to hear your cry in agony. He repeatedly knocked you down, picked you up, and let you wiggle off, then knocked you down again.

He was playing with you.

Of course, it didn’t feel like he was just playing with you, it felt like suffering.

He did this the whole course of the trial. Only stopping when one of the other survivors runs past him. He’d drop you then go after said survivor for a bit, making you think he’s done torturing you.

Boy were you dead wrong.

As soon as you are about to reach one of your friends to help get you off of the ground he snatches you up and starts the cycle all over again. 

Until the other survivors (those who aren’t dead) fix up all the gens and open the gates. 

They’ll try to save you but can’t without being hooked or moried. So they’ll have to leave you

What a great introduction to this guy right?

Anytime you had a trial with him you felt so much agony, after the first couple trials with him your friends gave up on trying to help you. Anytime they did they’d get downed, hooked, or moried. It seemed pointless to them.

Pinhead doesn’t understand his feelings towards you, nor does he care to understand them. He’ll just keep doing whatever it takes to get these feelings to either lessen or will do anything for his feelings if they please him.

So you can either expect a sadistic Pinhead or a creepily nice/stalkery Pinhead during a trial with him. 

Good Luck

[fourtyforever]

Get in losers were making a fic rec masterlist

Hi y’all it’s me, your local multishipper, and I’m about to be the change I wish to see in the world by putting all the best f1 fics in one place.

Maxiel

cool things to say to your soulmate by @powerful-owl (E, 14k)

A collection of shorter soulmate stories by the great em powerfulowl. Essentially the maxiel thesis as far as I’m concerned. If you ever catch me talking about the goose fic, this is what I’m talking about. Fun story: this was actually the first F1 rpf I ever read and I blame it for why my standards are so fantastically high.

Thursday girl by @boxboxlewis (M, 3k)

Max is outed by the press. Shocking emotional impact to word ratio and off the charts tenderness. Short and sweet and low key a comfort read to me.

the being unknown by anonymous (E, 12k)

Body swap with really unique and emotional vibes. Ngl this one hurt me (in the best way). A fantastic and heart-wrenching take on the horrors of 2022.

Charlos

win or lose (it’s how you play the game) by @f1-stuff (E, 18k)

Hickey bet between charles and carlos. Cannot get over this fic for as long as I live: the silliness is off the charts, the vibes are literally the most perfectly balanced tenderhorny I’ve ever read and the writing is just really that good. I think about this fic minimum once a day.

last night by venerat (E, 24k)

College au. Ngl this one is just especially spicy, but also very very funny and fully captivating top to bottom (see what I did there? haha). Also a great ensemble cast here, which I always love.

Once more (before we die) by @f1-stuff (M, 6k)

Fantasy AU where charlos are princes of warring kingdoms. I love this AU and I love the tenderness between Charles and Carlos that we get out of it. I’m usually not really an AU type of gal but this one really did change my mind.

Playing games by @vegasgrandprix (T, 4K)

Gay chicken. WIP, but I can already tell so clearly exactly where this is going and that is delightful to me. Honestly this really is how they act like 90% of the time already.

Yukierre

match made in heaven by venerat (T, 4K)

Pierre is yuki’s matchmaker. this one is just so sweet and sooooo silly. Comfort read 100%

Loscar

Are they gay or European? (the answer is both) by periwinkle_bumper_cars (T, 30k)

Logan keeps walking in on other drivers in compromising positions. 100% balls to the wall silliness from beginning to end and just completely delightful the whole time. Background carlando, kmag/hulkenberg, brocedes, maxiel, and honestly the ensemble cast is what takes this one from great to top tier.

Landoscar

By a thread by @mctwinkdom (E, 32k)

The classic Australian thongs misunderstanding (gone sexual). Incredibly silly, amazingly hot and honestly a top-tier character study of both Oscar and Lando. A great study in unreliable narration as well (probably part of what accounts for my previous point).

carried away by orphan account (E, 22k)

Fake dating. Honestly this one got me in my feels so much more than I expected from the premise. Sweet and a little bit angsty and just a delightful read all the way down.

Strollonso

green light, red wine (and I don’t feel fine) by @vicsy (E, 19k)

Mafia AU where lance is the son of Fernando’s arch nemesis. THEE strollonso fic of all time I tell you. Unparalleled characterization on the part of both nando and lance, fantastic ensemble cast, FANTASTIC writing, and off the charts unreal spiciness. If you haven’t read this yet then what are you doing

El dick plan by @waddlingpenguin (E, 800)

Lance says ‘daddy,’ both Fernando and Lawrence answer. Short, sweet and SILLY.

camera roll by @penaltyboxboxbox (E, 5k)

Sexting/sex tapes. Overall nice and spicy and just fantastic characterization. Also absolutely crucial is the companion art also by dave penaltyboxboxbox which is literally like the ice cream on top of the cake for such a wonderful fic

silver platter by @wewentcarracing (E, 10k)

getting together fic featuring long suffering estie bestie. Honestly the fic is amazing and spicy and just so well written but Esteban’s ever growing dismay is lowkey my favorite part. Works as a pretty great lance character study as well.

Brocedes

Roseberg’s vs haminkton by @jean----ralphio (E, 16k)

Tattoo artist versus flower shop, except they’re rivals. This is like…just how they are honestly. Absolutely stunning ensemble cast and absolutely hilarious buildup to lewis and Nico finally getting together. Side order of seb just being a massive shit stirrer which honestly I think is the role he belongs in

The real reason nico rosberg retired by periwinkle_bumper_cars (G, 3k)

Secret Santa (gone horribly wrong). This is…..also just how they are unfortunately. The rancidest of vibes but also screeching-out-loud funny.

will be updating this on the reg so stay tuned for more good fics. also maybe if I am very lucky someday I will have my own fics to add to the list. definitely I need to become slightly more insane before I can start writing for this fandom but believe you me I’m well on my way.

[hwanchaesong]

omg i got a good idea for an ateez song imagine: like i can -sam smith.

idk who but alive you feel like could match the vibes best. im kinda thinking yunho or seonghwa but they could be so different like shsbvsjsnd ily

a/n: this is SO SO VERY LATE I APOLOGIZE. THIS HAS BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR TOO LONG. I HOPE YOU'LL STILL ENJOY IT THO. AGAIN, FORGIVE ME FOR POSTING THIS AFTER SO LONG 😭

also, let's make this a seonghwa x reader x yunho cuz y not

suggestive (kinda smutty) & angst, no fluff here. love triangle, and mentions of other sins are in here so read at your own risk. also mdni!

LIKE I CAN - SAM SMITH

Seonghwa's piercing gaze cuts through the plethora of people in the dance floor of the smoky club, straight onto your figure latched onto his nemesis.

Jeong fucking Yunho.

Out of all the other guys you can mess around with, you really had to go to the person he least expected.

Seems like you know how to play a game of terror.

He scoffs when he sees you giggle at the other man's whispered words, biting your lower lip when his hand drops on your exposed thighs, crawling higher until it had you closing your legs in a failed protest.

Oh, how he hates seeing you like this. Like you weren't chanting his name like a mantra a few days ago. Like you weren't panting for more in his sheets. Like he didn't carved your body to accommodate him and only him.

He smirked when he saw an opportunity to lock you in, watching you saunter towards the restroom, and he stood up himself, boldly following you in there.

You were minding your own business, not until someone rudely barged in, pinning you on the wall with their face dangerously close to yours.

"What the f-"

"Watch your words, babe."

You almost shrieked when the person that you don't wanna have an encounter with shows himself without any warning.

"Seonghwa?" you muttered his name, and the way you called him sent the blood rushing down in his member. He loved it whenever you sounded meek in his presence.

"Let me go. I don't have time for this shit." you said, voice firm and he was shocked at how confident you are.

Is this what that Yunho has been teaching you? After all his hard work in shaping you into his submissive baby girl. Oh, he has to remind you where you stand in here.

"I don't have time for your attitude, princess."

Seonghwa's hands went into your waist, pushing your lower half into his own while he sticks his leg in between your thighs, causing you to let out a small squeak when your clothed pussy rubbed against his jeans.

It sent you down the rabbit hole, back to zero when he's intoxicating you like this again.

How do you even escape from him?

Park Seonghwa, the guy that every girl wanted yet you had him as your trophy after a one night stand during a drunken stupor of his frat's party.

He was once a stranger that you glanced at, maybe once or twice, you couldn't remember but you do know that he made you laugh. He made you happy for a short while before giving you an entirely different kind of serotonin. One that you could acquire when the waves crash you into euphoria.

He showed you a world of situations that sailed on ships made of sands. Thus, it crumbles easily, making you seek a home made out of bricks, a shelter that winds cannot destroy.

Yet here he is, in all his glory, kissing you like there's no tomorrow.

"I thought you were better than this. Care to explain yourself princess, hm?" he mumbles against your bruised lips as he nibbles on it, his hands going over your breast to grope it rather harshly.

"I don't need to explain myself to you." you panted, clenched fists weakly punching his chest, but you both know that no matter what you do, his temptation would be difficult to resist.

You moaned when his mouth slid down to your neck, biting your sweet spot while his hand wandered onto your damp panties, circling your garment-clad clit, it had you thrashing around in his arms.

Seonghwa chuckled darkly, murmuring the exact words that had your knees buckling for him, "Oh my sweet, little princess. I think I have to remind you that no one can show you passion like I do."

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

You were quietly sitting on the bed, the television's volume nothing but white noises to you.

Then you slightly jumped on your spot when a splash of cold water dripped on your cheeks, "Ah!"

You glared at the perpetrator, fresh out of the shower.

"Yunho! You scared me!" you whined, making him chuckle at your adorable countenance.

"You are the one scaring me, actually. You're too silent. Is something bothering you?" he asks, concern lacing his voice as he sits beside you, landing a palm on your leg and tenderly massaging it, giving you a sense of solace.

Yunho really is something, you think.

With him, it feels like all your sins will be forgiven. A gentleman that could cleanse your soul, a once in a lifetime chance and you'd be a damn fool if you let him go.

But it does plague your mind, the way you let yourself be consumed by the demon when you already have yourself an honest man.

"It's nothing, it's just-" you began to speak, but you were astounded when he cut you off with a groundbreaking fact that's been eating you inside and out.

"Is it what happened in the party?"

You and that Park shithead Seonghwa, he thinks.

You looked at him, wide eyed and anxious but he only waved you off. Still, there's a mayhem of vibes that surrounds him, and you have no idea of what will happen next.

"Y/N, my love, you must take for an idiot no?" he sniggers, then halts to tilt your chin up and he leans onto you, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

He's another kind of poison, and a pattern seemed to click in your mind on what kind of men you are drawn to.

"Yunho, it's not like that." you tried defending yourself but he shushed you with a peck on the lips, his hands brushing your arms lightly until he reached your shoulders.

Goosebumps trailed on where he touched you, then he abruptly pushed you down the bed, eliciting a surprised gasp from you.

"Darling, it's okay." he reassures, positioning himself on top of you and discarding the towel around his waist. Droplets of water fell on you, soaking your shirt that he hoisted up, revealing your breasts to him, your nipples perking up at being exposed in cold air.

His warm hands explored your smooth skin while he inhaled your scent, smooching on the crook of your neck and his eyes squinted when he saw the remnants of Seonghwa's disgusting mark.

His fingers tickled your stomach, reaching for your tits and playing with your nipples, tugging on it and you felt yourself getting wet with his ministrations.

"Y-Yunho.." you mewled, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

He merely hummed before biting the same spot where Seonghwa soiled you, mumbling curses at the thought of that shitty fuck boy.

"It's okay," he repeats what he said a while ago, "because at the end of the day, you'll still come back to me. No one can show you heaven like I can."

He already has you, and in Yunho's perception, you are his. You belong to him, you belong with him.

Dwindling roads and outreached hands are presented to you, so, which one do you choose?

[shu-glue]

devilspawn!

alhaitham x gn!reader

wherein Alhaitham, despite being deeply and irrevocably in love with you, thinks it's rather immature to be picking fights with a child whose age hasn't even reached double digits yet. until he meets said child himself. notes: gn!reader, written in lowercase, reader is implied to be the traveler but can be read otherwise, alhaitham is whipped for reader, reader hates timmie so if you adore the kid i'm very sorry, two curse words (reader says ass and alhaitham mentally says little shit)

alhaitham loves you a lot. he really does. he rarely ever says the three magic words, and for the most part, it's fine on your end because he expresses his deep affection for you through his actions.

sometimes, he'll say 'i love you' through quiet but powerful hugs after he comes home from a long, grueling day in the Akademiya. other times, he'll whisper 'i love you' as he hands you a small trinket or even a book you've mentioned in passing, one he bought just earlier when he saw said item in a stall while on an assignment. he'll call you 'beloved' through massaging your shoulders after training, and he'll tell you how much he adores you through the many times you spent basking in each other's presence in comfortable silence.

he'll walk with you to the ends of the Teyvat if it means staying by your side, however…

"love," alhaitham shakes his head, "you're a… fully grown adult. the one you want to 'crush under the heavy hand that is loss', is a child. my love, a child."

now, alhaitham is no stranger to the game that is TCG, Genius Invocation, the Card Game. the only times he, kaveh, tighnari, and cyno will meet up are when they're all free, fancying a drink, and cyno wants to try out another new card he has recently obtained.

in all honesty, your partner couldn't for the life of him understand the hype about this card game. he was by no means an amateur - he has won enough games to be considered an official TCG player, despite only borrowing decks from kaveh, and he is the only one able to actually last more than 5 rounds against cyno in a single session at lambad's.

he knows how to play, he just does not see the need to play so obsessively, nor blow off money for special cards he'll only use in a few given instances of his life (if he even utters this line of thought out loud around cyno, he'll have a spear stuck on his back for the rest of the day).

however, you - his lover, his partner, the only person reserved for the ring in his pocket - love TCG, and as the loving boyfriend he is, he tries to keep his opinion of the game to himself; he'd rather have a giant spear in his back than see you sad and pouting as you shuffle through your beloved deck of cards. he should know, he's made the mistake once and it took him a couple of padisarah pudding servings to cheer you up.

alhaitham loves you, and if you like this card game, he will certainly make sure you're happy every duel or match you do. he just can't wrap his head around why you're setting off to the bridge that leads to the entrance of mondstadt city, deadset on making a something years old child cry from defeat.

"alhaitham, baby, you don't understand," you argued, "that child is my mortal enemy, my lifetime arch-nemesis, and a pain in my ass."

"yes, darling, but consider: you have many more potential TCG friends who would make better rivals than some random kid." alhaitham rubs his forehead, completely exasperated if it weren't for the adorable way you're marching ahead in front of him like a goofy soldier going into war.

you only spin around just at the mouth of the bridge, your hands on your hips as you stare up at alhaitham with a pout on your face and a raised eyebrow. "you think i'm being irrational, aren't you?"

alhaitham raises an eyebrow back as he continues walking. "not necessarily, my love, however - "

there's something about being hit in the face with multiple fluttering wings and feathers unexpectedly, that can render even the most stoic of men like alhaitham utterly lost and speechless. is it the pure shock? the pain of not really fluffy appendages hitting their face? well, it's when the haze of birds - pigeons? - finally clear, alhaitham is greeted by the displeased and outright sour expression of the one he can only assume to be timmie, your 'sworn enemy'.

"what are you doing?!" said boy screeched. "you scared my pigeons away!"

alhaitham could only blink owlishly at the dirty blond haired boy, looking around to see a bunch of pigeons flying away, leaving a trail of feathers in their wake. granted, despite all the horror stories you told him about timmie, alhaitham's rational enough to be patient with timmie.

"i'm sorry, but I don't think I have control over that, kid." alhaitham tilts his head down to look at timmie. "if you feed your pigeons in the middle of the road, especially a bridge with exactly two exit and entry points, your pigeons will surely—"

"no, my mama always said that if you're a person with a pure heart, the animals won't be afraid of you." timmie turned his nose up and stuck his tongue out at alhaitham. "that's why my pigeons like me, and not you, you meanie!"

alhaitham had to reel himself back to take in the ridiculous logic, the gears in his head turning to come up with an explanation. "no," he shakes his head as if it's hurting, "birds and all animals for that matter don't know the concept of morality, thus they have no sense of right and wrong as humans do. the only reason the pigeons run away from others and stay with you is because you're feeding them, creating a dependent relationshi—"

"blah blah, why should i listen to an old man with graying hair?"

said (old) man with gray(ing) hair visibly reels back, flabbergasted. he's not so much offended as he is shocked at timmie's attitude. he wanted to say 'no, he's not old', 'his gray hair is a natural phenomenon because of genetics', and, 'listen here you little shit'.

"see?" you commented from the sideline, arms crossed. "devilspawn."

"ARGH!" timmie shouts, pointing an accusing finger at you. "you again?! stop scaring my pigeons away!"

"i keep telling you, there's nothing i can do about that!" you shout back, bickering with the small child as if you were about to lunge at him.

alhaitham looks back and forth between the two of you, mentally wondering if he was dating and courting someone of the immature type (doesn't mind it solely, because it's you). when he moves to calm you down so the both of you can finally head into mondstadt city to look for marjorie, timmie says:

"maybe my pigeons don't like you because you look like an ugly cow!"

oh boy. no good. no, no good, alhaitham won't tolerate that.

alhaitham loves you a lot. he really does. he rarely ever says the three magic words, and for the most part, it's fine on your end because he expresses his deep affection for you through his actions.

and if it means making a little boy cry at a simple card game to protect your dignity, then so be it.

"beloved. if you would so kindly let me borrow your cards."

"wha—?"

"beloved."

this is just a silly drabble i thought of a lot of days ago and no, it's not proofread AHAHA. i have been so inactive lately and i apologize for that, school has been hectic and i was busy with college applications to boot. but now, i'm about to graduate so i should have some free time before i finally taste the college life ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ if y'all saw this post but with no tags you did not

[junnieverse]

XOXO ➳ L. HEESEUNG

➙ synopsis: for as long as you'd known heeseung, who happened to be your best friend's twin brother, he was just that annoying kid who stole your blue highlighter in 4th grade and was a menace to you from that day on, but somehow along the way he stole your heart too.

pairing: lee heeseung x afab!reader

genre: fluff, best friend's brother au

word count: 1.1k

request: " hi! i have a fluff request ^^ . i don’t have a specific situation in mind but imagine reader’s first kiss with hee, she initiates it with a quick kiss but is unsure if hee actually likes her back, so she starts to pull away but then hee cups her face, pulls her back and deepens the kiss without ever breaking it "

warnings: not proofread

a/n: hi anon, tysm for this request, I enjoyed writing this so I hope you and all my other readers enjoy reading it too~ ^_^

a/n (2): just wanted to let everyone know incase you don't, I do have an enhypen series out so please do check it out if you'd like :)

"I swear if your brother touches my hair again, I'm going to uppercut him." you tell your best friend next to you as you comb through your previously ruffled hair.

You had known Heeseung for as long as you'd been friends with your best friends which was equivalently, many... many years.

You loved your best friend but her brother would never leave you alone.

He had his days where he was sweet with you but most of the time you were fighting back the urge to high kick his pretty little face.

"He says ruffling your hair before a game is his good luck charm." you friend says shrugging her shoulders as she munches on her popcorn.

"Yeah well he better find another goodluck charm, he's ruining my good hair days." you defend glaring at the boy who happened to run across the basketball court with his teammates.

You tried so hard to despise him and how smart, funny, considerate and kind he was, but oh how you wanted to so badly run over to Heeseung on the court and just kiss him.

This was someone who didn't necessarily make the best of impressions on you the first time seeing as he stole your blue highlighter in 4th grade, but the bright side was if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't have met your best friend who happened to return the very same highlighter apologising for her 'stupid' twin brother who took it in the first place.

From that day on, you made Heeseung your nemesis, he didn't know he was, so yes, your one sided nemesis, you were a grudge holder.

Heeseung did eventually apologise in which you forgave him but you weren't easy to forget about it either.

Over the years of growing a friendship with your best friend, her brother was seemingly in the picture too.

They were close, but they would also banter and tease each other alot like many other siblings did and you found that dynamic between them special.

Heeseung soon started treating you the same, yes he was sweet to you when he wanted to be but most of the time it was just teasing and being playful and sometimes even the subtle flirting.

Although a year ago everything started changing.

You had had a very romantic and somewhat suggestive dream about him and for days you had tried avoiding Heeseung because you were embarrassed to even think you could possibly think of him in that light.

For years you had only seen him platonically but all of a sudden one dream put everything into a new perspective that just maybe... you had feelings for your best friend's brother.

After avoiding him for almost a week straight, Heeseung obviously thought he did something and so he offered to take you out to lunch as an 'apology' still having no idea he had actually done nothing wrong and it was all just you going through some intrapersonal conflict.

But he had won you over and you were simply left dealing with new feelings for Heeseung you were afraid to admit.

Let alone to your best friend.

"Okay let's start working on this project." Heeseung says as you both walked into his bedroom to work.

It didn't feel all too unfamiliar since you'd been in here before when his sister was around but it felt odd since it would just be the both of you alone this time.

In one of the classes you shared with Heeseung, your professor had assigned everyone a partner for a new project for the semester and Heeseung just happened to be the person you were paired up with leading to this moment. 

You had both been working hand in hand for the past hour and a half now and there was great progress being made.

"How about we take a short break since we've been working for a while now." you say turning to Heeseung next to you who happened to already be looking at you.

"Stop looking at me like that, call me a bug like you always do already." you mumble rolling your eyes as you break away from his staring.

"You're actually really beautiful." he says leaning on the table with one hand as he smiles admiring your facial features.

"Funny, are you getting sick, never heard you compliment me in a minute." you joke with him putting your hand on his forehead but his temperature was normal.

Unexpectedly Heeseung gently pulls your hand away leaning his face closer to yours.

Your heart was beating right out of your chest at the close proximity between you both, was he going to do it.

You notice his gaze go from your eyes to your lips and back as you did the same, both of you seemingly waiting for the other to make the first move.

To both of your suprise, you were the one to initiate the first move pressing your lips together finally kissing him.

But the moment was quick to end as the thought of your best friend catching you both crossed your mind and you hesitantly pulled away.

"We shouldn't-" you start off but you were cut off by Heeseung pulling you back in for a second kiss.

This time he deepened the kiss a gentle hand on your cheek and you felt like this moment wouldn't end.

This time Heeseung pulled away leaving a soft peck on your cheeks and nose and reality hit you once again.

Standing up abruptly you began walking back and forth around the room not believing what you'd just done.

"Oh my gosh, I just kissed my best friend's brother. She's gonna hate me. She'll never want to be friends with me anymore. Why did i kiss you. No I shouldn't like you in the first place." you ramble nervously as you hit your forehead for your reckless decision.

"Wait... you like me back?" he asks scratching the back of his neck as he stood up walking towards you.

You'd forgotten he could hear everything you were saying and you had accidentally confessed your feelings indirectly.

Well there was no trying to hide or run away from it.

But he said 'back', doesn't that mean he likes you too?!

"I do like you but-" you tell him as he stood in front of you holding your hands in his as he stopped you probably sensing what you were going to say.

"My sister probably wouldn't care, you're worried about nothing. What matters is that we both like each other and I think we should go out on our first date." he reassures you as you nod.

"I'd like that."

[innerwriterwonderland]

My girl only breaks her favorite toys ☆

Avox!Coryo x Reader

Summary: Just as you're about to give up on finding Coriolanus Snow, your school nemesis, he falls right in your lap, in quite the condition.

Warnings: Canon level violence, threats, non sexual choking, attempted drowning, mention of bruises, cuts and other injuries, mentions of masturbation, the reader exhibits predatory behaviors, mentions of past bullying, homophobia and prostitution (pls feel free to tell me if i missed anything).

Author's note: this is a based on this small headcanon i made some time ago, but it can be read alone. It isn't meant to be a series, but i'm thinking of a part 2 in the future.

Word count: 2843 words.

It was your 18th birthday. A weird thing if you were asked. You got the prize, a way to University, all the honors of top student, despite not being picked as a mentor for the games, and still it didn't sit right with you. All these things were never yours, at least you never thought they would be.

They were Coriolanus Snow propriety. He set his claim on it all a long time ago, maybe even before he was conscious of it. But weirdly, the Snow heir had vanished into thin air after the 10th Hunger Games. Disappeared from the Capital's streets completely. No one knew where he went, or why he went, or even when exactly he left.

All that was said was that one day Coriolanus was celebrating his tributee's victory, and then the next one, he just couldn't be found anywhere. And the strangest thing was the lack of cover up story. How no one bothered masquerading his absence.

But, alas, here you were. Exhausted from the longest, fanciest, loudest party your parents could throw. Feet sore from the high heels you wore all night, and head buzzing from all the noise. It was nice how happy they were for you, but sadly, you felt too lost in your party to enjoy it.

There was one more gift according to your parents, waiting in your room. "To end the night on a high note!" your mother said, "It must be expensive!" you replied. Your mother had certainly acquired a taste for Capital opulence, and so had you. The heels, and clothes, and jewels in your bedroom accounted for that.

The double doors opened silently, and you went through in a mess stumbling feet, and energetic laughter. You might also be a bit tipsy, too much champagne for a night.

Then your body turned cold and rigid, eyes wild like you'd seen a ghost. Well, maybe you did.

Coriolanus Snow stood not a meter away from you, with sunken cheeks, and dirty platinum curls, and eyes too blue to be real. And, strangest of all, in a rose Avox tunic, looking sick and beaten.

Most certainly this was some illusion, you were hallucinating!

Coriolanus Snow, who – despite not having a coin to his name – walked through the Academy halls like he owned the place, and everyone inside it, was standing in front of your very eyes in a servant's clothing. Not any servant, an Avox, a criminal without his tongue, forced to do labor to atone for his crimes.

You were clearly losing your marbles! That's the only logical conclusion.

Yet, a gargled sound came out of the Coriolanus shaped thing in your bedroom, and it's eyes were the very blue you couldn't erase from your mind. It was him! By some heavenly miracle, of whatever this was, that was him.

"Snow?" You whispered almost scared as you reach your hand to him. Months of gathering whatever littlest information you could find on him, of using every last favor you had to look for clues on where the hell he was – just for Coriolanus to fall right into your lap.

He shrinks away from you, one step after another as you get closer. Now you could smell the foul scent that glued itsetf to him, disgust!

His back hit you vanity as your hand connects itself to his swollen cheek. Had they hit him before bringing him here? You doubted the Snow heir would come quietly to serve you, what he called "a district whore". Well, not like he had any choice now. A mean smile painted your lips at that.

"Snow, dear" You purred, getting closer to him, something he clearly didn't enjoy. "Looks like you were roughed up!" Sharp manicured nail traced the purple bruise close to his eye, and you watched as his eyebrows drew in on pain. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you now!"

It was twisted, what you felt for him. You couldn't hate him more, yet he was your longer lasting obsession. Maybe it was some underdog complex, as a born district girl, envying the Capital pure breed boy might be natural. But in your opinion it was more than that.

Coriolanus had chosen to haunt your life for as long as you've known him, no mercy to spare after letting the Plinth boy walk free of judgment it seemed. His insults and acid jokes echoing behind your back anywhere you went.

But now he seemed so weak, and fragile.

Snow had always been a bit short for his age, too skinny, pale and underdeveloped, but all the boys in his generation were. But he had a regal posture to compensate, as graceful as a lynx, Snow was quite easy on the eye, if you were honest. Attractive, but intimidating, in equal parts.

Your nails graze the recent cut on his forehead as you brushed his curls away from it.

"Poor, poor Snow" Soft as feathers, your hands trailed down his temple, and came down to hold his face between your palms "Let's get you bathed, huh? Wash all this dirt away?" You talked to him like a child, condescending.

With his wrist tightly enveloped by your hand, you pulled him into your bathroom. A spacious and luxurious room, with a delicate porcelain tub in the middle. "Undress" You ordered, with a stern voice Snow had never heard, before leaving him there and going to change yourself.

Snow thought for a moment after undressing that he should thank you for giving him such privacy, but only lasted 'till you came back into the room. In a short baby pink slip dress and a silk robe on top, hands working on tying up a bow to close it. Your eyes ran over his body, taking notice of the many bruises.

"They really hurted you, didn't they?" You asked, putting your hair up with a claw clip, and opening the faucet to fill the tub "But the real question should be why? What did you do to deserve this, huh?" Snow fumed at that, knowing he could not answer "Cat got your tongue? Oh, no, the peacekeepers did!" Your laughter echoed in the ample space.

Once the tub was full, you mentioned for him to get in and he obeyed. Just that simple act of submission made your skin tiggle. The Snow you knew would rather die than follow your command, he couldn't even handle to be beneath you in anything. Once, at the Academy he had choked and threatened you after you got a grade higher than his.

You never forgot the feeling of his cold fingers on your skin, his blue eyes looking right into yours, his breath fanning over your face. You went back to that moment many, many times, late at night, when you were alone and needy. As said before, your feelings around him were never so simple.

Snow sinked down slowly into the warm waters, humiliated to be following your commands. How ironic that he's pride was to blame for this. If he hadn't cheated for Lucy Gray to win, he wouldn't be at your mercy, if you had any. His eyes burned you as you knelt down beside the tub and began to bathe him.

Smiling up at him, all sickly sweetness, you brought the sponge up to rub his back "You know, I used to watch you, back at the Academy. So smart and bright, always around those rich, influential friends of yours. Always leaving me behind, look where that got you" The faux pity in your voice made his skin crawl, the rough sponge brushing against his bruises making him wince in discomfort "But it's okay, I'll take care of you now, as long as you obey me."

Your hands let go of the sponge to grab the shampoo and scrub it into his dirty platinum curls. Fingers trailing down to hold his shoulders, so he couldn't move away, as you nuzzled into his neck.

"Your skin's still soft, smells like lavender" You whispered into his neck, then pulled away to look into his baby blue eyes "I know you prefer roses, but all I have right now are my own products. We'll buy you some rose scented ones soon. You will smell like a girl, Snow!" You couldn't help but giggle girlishly at your own teasing.

Snow stiffen under your hold, as the insinuation sank in. Oh, how hated you. And the feel of your warm breath on his neck, and your hand moving down his body, across his chest, towards his stomach, and your soft voice as your said:

"You know I like those, right? Girls. 'Course you do! Used to tease me about it. Call me dyke. Say I ogle at the girls in the changing rooms." You sank your nails into his bruised skin, scratching bright red lines across his blue and purple belly. Despite the pain, he couldn't say he regretted the words now, if he could, he would do it all again. "But I like boys too, Snow, I'll prove you that in time." The smile showed him now was all teeth.

Snow's blood ran cold at the threat in your words. He wanted to curse you. Tell you what a disgusting whore you were, but his lack of vocal chords stopped him. Only a grunted sound of protest left his plump lips. He'd never been touched like that, all his romantic experience resumed to the quick kiss Lucy Gray gave him before the games.

As horror took over him, your hand went back to his shoulders. "Underwater, go, need to rinse your hair." Before he could even process the words you pushed him into the water, holding him down for the pleasure of watching him squirm.

His eyes went wide as he sank. Hands gripping the edges of the tub to try to pull himself back up. His mouth opened and you watched as the water filled and he grew panicked with his lack of breath, as air in his chest was being sucked away in the water, frantically trying to push your hands away. You wait until he begins to lose his energy to bring him up, with a hand on his throat and the other on his forehead.

"Shh, shh, calm down" You said in a soothing tone. Keeping him pressed to your chest as he coughed out water, breath heavy and labored as the panic slowly went away. Fucking psycho, Snow thought you were. "You're okay, just let me wash your hair." You brushed the damped curl away from his forehead before letting go get the conditioner to finish washing him.

Disregarding the horror of his situation, it almost felt nice to have your soft hand run through his hair to apply the other products. He barely had anyone take care of him these days. It made him miss Tigris, she always cared for him, despite all her own pains.

"Okay, go down again" You lightly patted him, but that was enough to bring the fear back, and Snow tense as he waited for another drowning.

But it never came, so he went down, quickly, coming back soon before you tried to suffocate him again. The smirk in your face made him want to choke you.

You stood up after that, telling him to finish his bath as you went to grab him a change of clothes. Snow almost felt grateful as you left. He washed his body and grabbed one of the soft white towels of the rack to dry himself, pleased with it's texture against his bruised skin. Looking in one of the many mirrors, he found himself unrecognizable, thin and frail like a ghost. A twisted reflection of who he used to be.

"Still so pretty" He heard your breathy voice before he saw through the mirror.

You had a piled of male clothing in your hands - a white formal shirt, a pair of crimson pants and some underwear - that you extended to him. "Here. These are my boyfriend's, not sure if they'll fit, but try it."

With a small nod he took the clothes from you and began changing. Uncomfortable with how you stared at him, eyes trailing his body as he got dressed. The clothes' fit was barely good, the pants' legs were too short, and so were the cuffs of the shirt. This was just another way of humiliating him, as if he wasn't degraded enough already.

You thought it was good enough. "That's enough for now, I'll buy you some more fitted ones in the future."

Snow kept his eyes downcasted as he left the bathroom behind you. The new clothes felt nicer on his skin, expensive and softer, and he felt clean for the first time in a while. Yet, Snow never felt more dirty and loathsome. Even the size of clothes seemed to mock him. Dean Highbottom was right, snow was falling, and now he felt like he'd hitted rock bottom.

But you? You have never been happier! Snow was all yours, and he was broken down enough to follow your every word. Enough to be your own little toy to play with however you wanted. You couldn't help but appreciate his new state. Delicate little thing was he, ghastly almost. Yet those blue eyes and blond hair could never be anything but beautiful.

"Think I'll ask for some cake to celebrate! It's my birthday, you know?" You looked at him with too bright a smile and sparkling eyes, that wided as you heard his stomach groan "You hungry, Snow?" Even with his hunger you played.

What pitiful excuse of a life Snow had now. You toyed with his needs, but made sure he was always dolled up before. He only nodded before you called the maid to bring you something from the party buffet.

"You're used to it, aren't you? The hunger" You mused quietly watching as he sat down on the floor, head bowed "Heard your cousin used to sell her body to feed you, so you must be used to going hungry longer than most." He contemplated ripping your neck to shreds at that.

How dare you insult Tigris like that, even if it was true. You found out about that when you were searching for him. It seemed the Snow's had quite a few secrets since the war ended. He only hummed in response, not even looking at you.

"The Snow household was left in shambles after your disappearance, you know?" You prod hoping for a reaction from him "Your cousin, Tigris, became a stylist for the next hunger games - they are trying to follow your legacy of creating a show it seems - but cutted all her connection to the Snow name. And that old woman in your house, no one has seen her since, the penthouse is completely abandoned." You let the poison drip from your tongues and analyzed how his jaw clenched "It's for sale now. Maybe I'll buy it for you."

You knelt down beside him and took his face in your hands "But you don't have to worry about any of it anymore! Now, you have me to take care of you." As soon as you finished talking his hand wrapped around your throat.

Snow pushed you down on the ground, choking you as his weight caged you. You had to concentrate to not moan. His baby blue eyes now burned with pure unfiltered hatred, just as you remembered. Slender fingers gripping tightly, knuckles white. You hoped it would leave a mark.

Your hands held onto his wrists. He wouldn't kill you, Snow didn't have it in him to be a murderer. Or at least, that's what you thought.

Snow, on the other hand, was ready to end this here. To end your spoiled bratty ass and his humiliation. He sank his fingers into your flesh and watched you turn purple. Disgusted by the glint in your eyes and the smirk in your lips. Your lack of fight was weird, but he blamed it on you trusting the security of your home.

Vision blurred from the lack of oxygen, you forced a laughter out of your swollen lips, but no words came out thanks to his grip. You let go of his hands, wondering if Snow really thought he could kill you in own house. Poor foolish Snow. Your hands pushed at his waist to get his body off the top of yours. And when you failed you sank your nails into his bruises.

He winces in pain and falters his hold on your neck, letting you get away from under him. Bending over coughing. "Oh, that was fun!" You giggled between heaving breaths "That was really fun!"

The look of shock in his face was priceless. You prayed for more chances of seeing it again. Little did Snow know the game he had just got into with you. It would be so fun to break and build him up, again and again and again. Snow was now your new favorite toy to break.

[pendarling]

Letters & Masks

Villain was never interested in the identity of Hero without the mask, but watching them feign a look of confidence encouraged the criminal to give Hero a little scare.

They circled Hero's body as they sat on the floor with their wrists and ankles bound together.

"Never thought you'd end up in this position?" Villain mused. Their steps halted in front of the other, and they knelt to take a good look at their face.

Hero smiled softly, "It's not too far off, actually."

They blinked momentarily until they understood the explicit but subtle message. Villain's eyebrows raised, "Very funny,"

"I'm even funnier if you got to know me aside from fighting me now and then."

"Well, that mask of yours would be a great first step." They stood up and dusted their pants, "but I can tell you're committed to that part."

Hero watched their shoes click away over to the other side of the room, where they then picked up a blade. It was smaller than the average kitchen knife and looked similar to a sword if they were honest; intricate shapes and detailed patterns blended into fuzzy lines as Hero tried to focus on it from a distance.

"Are you going to torture me with that? It'd be a shame to get blood all over it." They sighed with a half smile.

Villain chuckled deeply and inspected the tool in their hand. "Oh no, darling, this isn't for you." They lifted a letter and cut it open gently, "You really think so negatively of me? I'm much kinder to my prisoners." 

Their hand pulled out a piece of paper, which they read; the room went silent shortly. Hero was grateful as they let their embarrassment settle down. Obviously, Villain had no evil intentions, at least not to the degree that would be directed at them. 

"What does it say?"

Villain was amused at their attempts to keep up the conversation. They quickly folded the page and gazed back at Hero as they sat patiently on the wooden floorboards.

"Someone is already coming to look for you. Aren't you excited?" 

Hero stared at the red envelope. Villain lifted it to place the letter back in and squinted their eyes. "Huh. I think I know that person," They tilted their head to see the insignia better.

Their nemesis gazed at the location their eyes were fixated on and found the small label on the corner of the envelope. They shook their head, "You seem to know a lot of things, Hero."

"No. I do know them."

"How?"

"You know how you were asking me earlier about who I am under the mask?"

Their curiosity peaked, and suddenly, Villain felt themselves focused on Hero's words. 

"They saw me without it."

A subtle shift in the air alerted Hero to something relatively unfamiliar from Villain's aura. They glared at them and remained quiet, "bullshit."

"I would never lie." They pushed.

It was a tension they didn't think they'd experienced before, but Hero knew they might've just made Villain jealous, and it was a little too late to put the fire under control. 

"I-it wasn't anything though." They softly laughed with dismissiveness. 

"When?" Villain approached guardedly. Their presence presented a threatening message. 

Hero scooted back slightly, but their back had already hit the wall. "Last…" shouldn't they lie? It happened last year, but if Villain knew they could keep secrets from them for this long, they would interrogate them forever for every minute detail they could barely recall.

Their nemesis bent down closer now, right next to their side and fiddled loosely with the letter opener. Its sharp edge reflected the light to the corner of their eye.

"When??" They repeated impatiently. "Or are you playing games with me again, because Hero, if you are—" the blade tip slipped under the mask. "I swear to God…" they trailed off and left Hero to finish the sentence. 

Their eyes didn't meet the other, and they stared ahead with slight concern, "I was just kidding-!" Their smile came out awkward, "Jeez, you really are gullible to believe all that," Villain pushed the blade higher, and Hero gasped as the metal grazed the edge of their eye, "O-okay! Okay! Okay!" They nervously made eye contact with Villain. "It wasn't like I wanted to. It just suddenly came off."

"What? The wind did it?" Villain's lips curled into a smile, not buying an ounce of Hero's desperation. 

They nervously shifted their body, although part of themselves feared that moving any more would make the blade cut into their skin. Villain wouldn't let that happen, would they?

"No... it was... forcibly removed." They anxiously breathed in rapid, short breaths with eyes darting back and forth from the knife to Villain's eyes.

Villain moved the knife from underneath the mask, their jealousy simmering into something sympathetic at their words. They firmly pressed down on the cold tool against their skin by the flat end. Hero only then realized how warm their face was. "You know I'm not the type to do such things." They murmured. 

An eventual relief ran through them, yet, at the same time, a sense of comfort unexpectedly entered. They weren't opposed to it, but the fact that it was Villain had made them briefly question their morals. 

Their skin slightly tingled as Villain's agonizingly slow pace of the knife rounded their jawline and moved downwards from their neck until it came to rest on the bare skin of their collarbone. Another inch more, and they'd be cutting into their suit.

Hero's heart ran. Their gazes were still locked in a silent conversation. A flicker of choices delivered itself to Hero; one of the thoughts suggested something out of line, something they didn't want to believe they would even attempt. 

How could they...?

Or... maybe they would dare?

As much as Hero tried, they couldn't help but lean a little closer. Just enough to let their lips graze but still deny it any satisfaction. Villain stayed still, although they admired the courage with a knowing look. They could feel their captive's hesitation overtake them with such a heavy decision.

Villain was better at commanding, so they sorrowfully abided when they pushed Hero away, forfeitting their battle.

"Let's not forget our roles here, Hero."

They stood up, the floorboards creaking as the sound followed Villain back to the desk with the crimson letter. They opened a drawer and set the small tool into it before seating themselves on the desk in an attempt to collect themselves. Hero noticed their breathing turn harsh; the letter in their grasp, whether out of anger at the information they'd revealed or not, they weren't sure. 

What they did know was whatever thoughts made it into Villain's head had managed to convince the Villain to rip it into several pieces and toss it into the trash. 

~~~

MASTERLIST

[utilitycaster]

Hi! Because I genuinely do love your take on things and every time I read through them, a new perspective that I had never even considered before makes itself known to me. So, I wanted to ask! Since Twitter (unsurprisingly) already got its hands on this discussion:

What are your feelings on the Mighty Nein being the ones to handle the Weave Mind over Bells Hells? Because for me, I always sort of knew that BH were going to be the ones to defeat Ludinus no matter what. It’s what they’ve been building up for.

However, some people say the M9 aren’t deserving of handling the Weave Mind because that was an antagonist made specifically for the Bells Hells. So, I was interested in seeing your thoughts about this (strange) discussion.

Hi anon, thanks!

I think it's great to have the Nein go after the Weave Mind, and I think, like most takes from the Twitter CR fandom, this is fucking stupid.

Given that Matt is the DM, and he's like "hey, I'm going to have a Trusted NPC call in the Mighty Nein to deal with the Weave Mind" I think the argument that the Weave Mind was made specifically for Bells Hells is not, in fact, true. The Weave Mind is an antagonist who was introduced with Bells Hells' campaign, rather like how Ludinus Da'leth is an antagonist who was introduced with the Mighty Nein's campaign and who has been the nemesis of Beau and Caleb in particular, and yet Bells Hells will be going after him in this scenario (and, to be clear, I think this is fine; I've expected Bells Hells to face off against Ludinus in the end).

I would be interested in understanding if the motivation here is "I wish the Nein were going after Ludinus and Bells Hells were going after the Weave Mind" which I think is far less interesting given that Ludinus has been such a consistent enemy of Bells Hells as well but at least I can puzzle out a not terribly intelligent but consistent sort of logic in it; or if this is a "I wish the past two parties weren't involved in this campaign at all" argument in which case, far too late for that; or if this is someone who specifically doesn't like the Mighty Nein throwing yet another tiresome and embarrassing temper tantrum on Twitter. But my opinion doesn't change; I think it's far more satisfying to see Bells Hells take on Ludinus than the Weave Mind, whom half of them haven't even met.

More generally, the idea of "doesn't deserve to fight the Weave Mind" is stupid on another level. I understand why people talk about which actual play character they wish to get the final blow on a particular enemy, even though dice will ultimately decide this. When it lines up - Vax with Thordak, Yasha with Obann - it's immensely satisfying. But you do not need to be the most wronged person to make meaning of a How Do You Want To Do This (FCG and Otohan being an obvious case here). Technically, the Volition deserves to fight the Weave Mind more! Half of Bells Hells hasn't even encountered the Weave Mind in any capacity! Braius and Dorian haven't been to the moon! Sometimes, you're fighting because it's part of, for example, a three-pronged plan that needs three separate simultaneous strike forces. Bells Hells can't do all three at once despite having claims to each of the targets unless they split up. Would you rather the parties split up in a mix of each? Because I'm not opposed per se but that could get pretty confusing all around. And if we're going to step out of the Watsonian argument that in-world, they can't do all three at once, see my next paragraph to address the Doylist "but Matt didn't need to set it up this way" one.

I am on the record as loathing the whole "it's their table and you can't criticize it because it's their game" bullshit. You can do so. You can do so even if there are very good reasons for their choices. You're always entitled to your own opinion and as long as you're not harassing people, it is morally neutral to say "this piece of fiction/art/whatever didn't do it for me," end of sentence. With that said. It's fine if people wish Campaign 3, like Campaigns 1 and 2, were more exclusively focused on one party's adventures rather than the all-hands-on-deck story that it is. But it is that story, and pretending this wasn't the result of a number of intentional choices by Matt and the cast and various collaborators is profoundly stupid at this point. I had my complaints as well, early on, but the time to get over this was episode 1, when Orym and Fearne and Dorian and Bertrand showed up with their ties to EXU and C1. Or it was episode 6, when Laudna revealed her connection to Delilah. Or episode 35, when that connection to Keyleth was leveraged. Or episode 50, when Beau and Caleb appeared; or Episode 51, when multiple past PCs were present at the solstice; or Episode 66, when we further met with Keyleth; or Episode 86, when Sending came back on and both Caleb and Jester spoke to the party; or Episode 92, when we cut back to the Crown Keepers; or Episode 94, when Essek showed up; or Episode 99, when Downfall began. If you're still holding on hope now in the endgame, I think it's too late. That's not the campaign this is, and it never was, and you can wish that you had something more self-contained like Campaign 1 or 2 but with Bells Hells, but that's all it is - a wish, unfulfilled.

[tf2-bhs]

Meet "Spy".

The most arrogant student in all of MANN high school and sixth form. Once he had a perfect life, over in France. Not an orphan, posh house, and perfect grades, and because of those perfect grades he was offered a chance to go over to England as an exchange student, which he obviously took. However, as soon as he got to the people he would be staying with, he soon realized that it was one of the worst opportunities that he had ever taken.

8 children, under one small roof, with only one familiar woman looking after them. He immediately clashed with the clan's youngest member a, then, 13-year-old boy called Jeremy. The pair often got into verbal spats whenever the younger boy's mother wasn't around.

However, despite them often fighting, the pair developed a sort of brotherly bond, with 'Spy' telling Jeremy long and intricate stories sometimes about things he's done in France, other times just to hit him with a 'your mom' joke. And sometimes Jeremy goes to 'Spy' for advice with the SAME SIXTH FORM GIRL.

'Spy' was only supposed to stay in England for his time in year 10, however, he made a special request to stay for an additional year, which his old school agreed with, as long as Ms. Sullivan was okay with it, and due to reasons still unknown, she was.

He's the second most mysterious student, second only to the 'Pyro', and that is primarily because we actually know that 'Spy' is human and speaks plain English, however, his identity is still unknown as he has never taken his hood off in front of someone and he always answers the register before his name is said.

Despite his posh exterior, he's partial to video games, especially a shooter game called 'Band Bastille 2.' He is an absolute sweat at it and is by far the best 'Infiltrator' player for miles. He even has a nemesis on the game who goes by the gamer tag 'ProfessionalwStandards', who primarily plays the 'Assassin' role, which he hates all player.s of but, and I quote, ", especially this so-called professional! He dares to say that he has standards!? All assassin players are just a bunch of pathetic lost souls who don't even know how to move their own characters!" - Spy, overheard at lunch, the other week.

Another one of his online activities that he loves to do is to get into arguments about the stupidest things. It could be about politics, a movie franchise he hasn't seen, or even basic trivia. Sometimes he purposely says the wrong thing, just to illicit a reaction from the person, and when the perfect time comes, he strikes and instead of putting an actual answer, he just puts the person's IP address and never looks at the conversation ever again.

Something that he just can't stand is vapes, and I quote, "Horrid, horrid things. With their dreadful flavours and stupid batteries. h, and do not even get me started on the braindead people who got the toilets permanently locked because they were using them there. I prefer to take my lung cancer the proper way with cigarettes!" -Spy again.

GCSEs

Trilogy

French

History

Drama

Art

Relationships

Jane 'Soldier' Doe: Apart from maybe Merasmus, 'Spy' is the only person to not put up with Jane's loud-mouthed attitude, saying "It wouldn't be tolerated in my old school, it won't be tolerated by me here."

Jeremy 'Scout' Sullivan: Read the first bit again, and then look me in the eyes and tell me you need this.

?? 'Pyro' ??: 'Spy' wonders what inhuman thoughts lie behind that mask, but more so he wonders how, even when he's in isolation, he can always be found by the creature.

Mikhail 'Heavy' Ivanov: They often talk about literature that they've read, meaning most of their conversations take place hidden behind bookshelves in the library making someone think the school is haunted!

Mun-dee 'Mick' 'Sniper' Mundy: Do not let these two exchange gamer tags. They're at each other's throats enough already.

F??? Pauling: 'Spy' is her go-to when getting advice for help with the gals

??? 'Ma' Sullivan: They both know and they know the other knows.

Tavish 'Demoman' Degroot and Ludwig 'Doc' Koch: Nothing too bad, they have pleasant chats