#that song is meant for her ! meant for her!

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 4

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, hoops written by lila... Wordcount: 5K A/C: and by tomorrow i meant now hehe, anyways - uh... I WROTE HOOPS INTO THIS so be nice to me. please. something about it is soo intimidating to me so if it makes zero sense that's not on me at least it makes sense in my head. UH ANYWAY send your thoughts and feedback i'm nervous abt this one haha go read

-

Before London

“One more girls, c’mon, sell it!” Koclanes’ voice echoes around College Park Center, joined with the squeaking of our sneakers against the floor. I glance at Arike who throws her head back in frustration, mumbling to herself, mirroring exactly how I felt deep inside. We had been working on this same play for what felt like at least an hour, running the drill repeatedly. The muscles in my thighs ache as I roll my fatigued shoulders, walking to mid-court, too tired to jog. According to Chris we weren’t convincing enough. So here we go again.

I advance the ball upcourt with practiced ease, the ball bouncing in a steady rhythm against the hardwood. For the 15th time today my eyes follow Arike, as she backs into the weak-side corner, positioning herself beyond the arc. I slow down my pace, threading the ball through my legs, face to face with the defense. My eyes stay sharp, focused, glancing into the corner. She’s ready.

Suddenly I dribble forward into the paint, not to shoot but to pass to Arike, whose knees bent, hands up, ready for me in the corner. The defense makes a quick read of my actions, drawing out players to defend the perimeter. I sell it, my eyes locked on Arike, when Satou cuts to the basket at the correct time, and without looking, I deliver the final deceptive blow. Anticipating Satou’s movements and the little I can see from my peripheral vision, I pull off the no-look through the legs, the ball effectively landing in Satou’s hands who finishes the play with a smooth drive to the basket. Like we had done about a zillion times already this afternoon.

No one celebrates, it was much too early to. Instead, we all turn to Koclanes in anticipation. He looks at us, rubbing his jaw with a straight face - until his mouth twists into a grin.

“You sold it! You sold it guys!”

Simultaneously, me and Arike let out relieved sighs as the team on the bench cheers, clapping their hands together. Satou comes up from behind me and squeezes my shoulder. 

“About time huh?” She groans as we all walk towards the benches, each taking turns to high five our coach. Chris checks the watch on his wrist, audibly gasping.

“Yikes! What crazy man let practice run this late?” He jokes, causing the crowd of girls to laugh, me included. I feel his hand tap on my shoulder, my head snapping to him.

“Good job Paige,” he smiles. 

“Thanks coach,” I grin, throwing my head back to chug some water, still not having adjusted to the difference in praise, Geno’s often few and far between. My blue eyes scan the seats in the crowd. There she is, Izzie, eyes twinkling, book snug in her armpit as she claps and begins to make her way down. In the past couple weeks me and the dark haired girl had found a new routine. Each morning we met downstairs, and I drove her to work, and in the evenings she sat courtside, working or reading her books, waiting for me. It felt easy, effortless and in the meantime I had gotten to know her even better.

I knew she was in a bad mood in the mornings, often unwilling to engage with my overflowing energy before she had a coffee in her hands. Which she preferred to drink black, but on special occasions enjoyed an oat milk latte. She wasn’t picky about it though - ready to finish whatever sugary coffee concoction I had ordered just for the caffeine if I offered.  She liked to hum quietly along to songs, but was embarrassed if I acknowledged her singing. She kicked her heels off the moment she entered her apartment. She knew ball, like really knew ball but was hesitant to discuss the sport with me - which let me know she didn’t like to be wrong, afraid I might call her out for a bad take.

She was nurturing, oftentimes climbing into my car with homemade breakfast after she found out about my recent poptart habit, my old healthy routines too disrupted by the recent move to Dallas. She covered her mouth when she laughed. Her face scrunched ever so slightly when I said something out of pocket. I had found out that her favourite movie was Lady and The Tramp and Paris was her favourite city in the world - she even spoke a little French. I had also found out that there was nothing I could do to shake the crush I had on her, so for the first time ever, I just let it be. We had become friends, and I was glad. Although my teammates were less believing of this, Arike and Lou pointing out repeatedly how red my face turned when the media producer was brought up.

“That pass was incredible! I’m so excited to see all that in action,” Izzie gleams, approaching me and Arike. Her praise makes my stomach twist in knots, a bashful smile growing on my face. Our first game was approaching much faster than I could’ve ever anticipated, now only a little more than a week to go. 

We weren't… great. But I had quickly learned to work with Arike, though she still struggled to remember that she had another teammate to rely on - someone to pass to instead of driving through four defenders for a bucket. To my relief, me and Satou had found a groove even quicker, the time we had spent finessing the pick-and-rolls and high-low action already showing.

”I think she’s just wantin’ to show out,” Arike grins, winking at me, like Izara wasn’t standing right in front of us.

”Nothing new about that,” Iz laughs.

”Alright enough,” I chuckle, wiping the sweat off my forehead on the damp towel in my hands. I watch as Rike’s face lights up, a wide grin spreading on her face as she jogs off to greet Lala, her fiance, walking over from the side entrance.

”Hey baby,” Lala smiles, kissing the younger woman carefully, not wanting to get sweat on herself. ”Tell me y’all are done, I’ve been waiting in that car for an hour.”

”Nahh don’t blame Rike, that’s my bad,” I smile, leaning over to greet her with a polite hug. 

”You’re our child you could do nothin’ wrong,” Lala says affectionately. Ever since I moved the couple had made sure I was okay, that I didn’t feel alone. Problem was, I was terrible at expressing my emotions, so of course I never told anyone how badly I was struggling. Though that feeling was mostly gone now. Dallas was starting to feel like home, slowly but surely.

For a while all four of us stand there, the pair watching me expectantly. Realising too late what I was supposed to do, Arike starts.

”Baby this is Zari, she’s our new media girl, Zari this is Lala, my fiance.”

Oh right. It probably would’ve given me some points in Izara’s books if I had been the one to introduce her.

”Hello, it’s lovely to meet you!” The brit gleams, shaking Lala’s hand.

”Ohhh she’s British huh? I love your skirt girl,” Lala says with her usual warmth. She wasn’t wrong - the champagne coloured satin skirt flowing to Izzie’s calves, accentuating the natural curve of her waist. My mind quickly swirls out of control, the memory of her in the lululemon set still fresh in my mind for I had reminisced in it many times ever since our little workout. The way her body looked, how badly my hand wanted to travel all the way down her back, how soft the skin of her ass would feel under my grip, what it would look like when I knead it - I’ve got to stop. We’re friends. I’m happy to be friends. That’s it.

”Oh thank you! Your nails are gorgeous,” Izzie answers, admiring the long acrylics. Lala wiggles her decorated hands for Izzie, making her gasp.

”And that ring, my goodness,” she coos, taking hold of the other woman’s hands gently to admire the diamond on Lala’s ring finger closer. ”That is the size of my head.”

”Well you know me, only the best for the wife,” Rike joins in, smirking proudly. The couple turn to each other smiling, sharing a few gentle pecks. My blue eyes glance at Izara, only to find her already watching me. For a second our eyes meet, till she looks down to the floor, turning to look for something in her bag. 

”You coming to the party right?” Rike asks, elbowing me. The couple had just moved to a new apartment and wanted to host some of their friends and team for a last-minute housewarming party.

”Wouldn’t miss it,” I answer. But Lala’s eyes are fixed on Iz, still roaming through her bag.

”Zari, you got plans this weekend?” She asks kindly.

”Work, rest, gym, more work,” the girl chuckles, finally placing her purse on her shoulder. I wanna reach over and fix the hair stuck underneath the strap, but before I can, she does it herself.

”Well you should come too!” Lala suggests, glancing at her fiance.

Arike grins, eyes flickering between me and Izara. ”You should, Paige would like it if you came for sure.”

Jesus. Attempting to resist rolling my eyes, I close them, letting out a heavy exhale which makes Rike chuckle to herself. Lala shuts her up, elbowing her fiance’s side. God bless that woman.

”We would like it too. Dallas can get lonely if you don’t have good people around you,” she says to Iz softly.

The girl's green eyes flicker from Lala to me, back to Lala until she nods. ”Okay. I think I could make time, thank you for the invitation.”

”No problem girl,” Lala smiles, glancing at me and Arike. ”You two go shower so us girls can get out of here.”

”Yes ma’am,” Rike grins, grabbing her towel and water bottle ready to head out. 

”I’mma be quick,” I tell Izzie, my voice softening exponentially as I talk to her. She smiles, her hand grabbing my forearm gently as she speaks.

”I’ll wait here.”

”I’ll keep her company,” Lala hums, sitting down courtside, tapping the seat next to her for Izara.

I leave the two girls on their own, skin of my forearm on fire still from the simplest touch.

-

Mum ❤️ Jasper called, said he’s been trying to reach you. Have you gotten his calls? Please call him.

I read the text over and over as it lights up my phone screen, disturbing me from the post schedule I’d been working on for the past hour. For others Friday nights meant cocktails and late nights and unwinding. For me it meant finishing this week’s work and an episode of Love Island before going to bed at 9:30 PM sharp. So here I am, in my satin pajamas, hair up in a bun, scheduling one post after another for the weekend.

Groaning, I grab my phone preparing to send a strongly worded text to Jasper to stop being in contact with my mother - but I’m interrupted by urgent knocks on my front door. I check the time. 8:30 PM. Why would someone be needing me at this hour?

I tiptoe across the short corridor straight to my front door, unlocking it carefully. It’s Paige.

Suddenly I’m painfully aware of my appearance, of how short the navy blue satin shorts are on my long legs, how the strap of the matching flowy top is hanging off my shoulder. Swiftly, I pull the strand back up, taking my hair down and running my hand through it before I even make eye contact with the blonde.

“Hey Paige, you okay?” 

Her blue eyes roam up and down my body, making me cross my arms over my chest. I didn’t like people seeing me like this, when I wasn’t prepared. When I wasn’t in control of how I was being viewed.

“You goin’ to sleep?” Paige asks, a hint of a smirk on her face. “It’s like 8.”

“8:30,” I correct, watching as she leans against my door frame. 

“It’s Friday night Iz,” the blonde chuckles. I run my hand through the ends of my dark hair again, feeling bashful under her intense gaze.

“I’ve got work to do,” I explain. “Did you need something love?”

Paige lets out a dramatic groan and throws her head back. 

“I’m boreeeeeeeed,” she moans theatrically, pouting at me. I feel a slight flutter in my chest when her pleading eyes meet mine.

“Go to sleep Paige,” I chuckle, ready to close the door but her strong grip holds it open.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?”

I rub my forehead, thinking of all the work that would be piled up if I didn’t do it today. But her offer was tempting, getting to just sit on the couch and watch TV sounded like heaven. And to get to spend time with a friend. No, I should work. Especially if I wanted to go to Lala’s and Arike’s tomorrow.

“Paige, I really should be working,” I tell her more seriously now.

The blonde sighs, shifting on her feet, eyes locked in mine.

“C’mon Izzie, take a break with me,” she murmurs, the taller girl’s hand coming over and stroking my arm quickly. Goosebumps rise on my skin, her fingertips cold on my warm skin. “Please. Just this once.”

My head feels dizzy suddenly, skin burning. I must turn the AC up. Still, the way Paige’s eyes are begging me for company, the whine in her voice only convincing me further. Fuck. Fine.

“Come in,” I sigh, stepping out of the way. With a smug grin she walks in, pleased she got me to bend to her will.

“But, only for a little. I need to finish work before I go to bed.”

“You got it,” the blonde smirks, taking off her shoes before I can even ask. Her hair is damp, curling just a little in its natural state, and her sweats are hanging low on her waist, sagging.

“Have you eaten?” I ask, my need to nurture the blonde taking over once again.

“I have ma,” Paige coos, following me into my apartment. I can feel her eyes boring into me when I grimace at the nickname.

“What did you call me?” I giggle, planting myself on the couch, my shorts hiking up further as I sit. Paige’s cheeks flush red, and she scratches the back of her neck.

“Uhh, my bad, old habit,” she murmurs, chuckling awkwardly. “You don’t like it?”

I furrow my brows, watching her sit on the opposite corner of the couch, legs spread wide as she does. “What kind of nickname is that anyway?” I laugh, not having heard it before.

Paige lets out a single laugh and shrugs. “I dunno, just something we say here I guess.”

Biting her lower lip as she watches me, the blonde lets out a heavy exhale, eager to change the topic. 

“You want a milkshake? I’m craving one bad,” Paige asks, grabbing her phone and scrolling through Uber Eats.

I shake my head, watching her closely. Her long fingers making the phone look small in her big hand.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I say. “I don’t like having sugar in the evenings.”

Paige’s eyes flicker from her phone to me, back to her phone. The blonde’s brows raise as she smiles. “I’m sayin’ this with no disrespect. You need to learn to relax.”

I scoff. “I know how to relax. After work I was going to make a cup of tea and watch Love Island before bed.”

“Prove it, get a milkshake with me,” she dares. I think for a while, perhaps once couldn’t hurt. And I had a feeling she would keep whining until I said yes, which would mean she’d stay for longer - which would mean I wouldn’t finish my work.

“Don’t make me get one alone, please.”

Finally, I fold, Paige nodding her head to signal me over to her corner of the couch. I scooch along the seat, closing the distance to peep at the blonde’s phone screen. I settle next to her, pressing gently against her side, my thigh nestling onto hers. I hear Paige’s breath grow shallow, her arm resting on the back of the couch, bare skin of her forearm grazing against my upper back. Suddenly, I feel my mind spinning, but I clear my throat, trying to ignore it, or the way my side tingles against her.

“Whatchu want Iz?” Paige’s voice is breathy and hoarse, her face turning to me. I meet her gaze, my heart pounding when I realise how close she is, only a few inches away.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” I reply, and my voice is… shaking? I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s enough to make my cheeks flush pink.

The blonde’s tongue darts out to lick her lower lip, making it glisten in the soft light of my living room. 

“Why don’t we get two different ones and we can share, yeah?”

I nod, my lips parted, Paige’s warm, minty breath grazing my face. Despite the little clothing I was wearing, I felt heat spread everywhere, making me burn up, forcing my chest to heave. 

“Uh, I’m going to turn up the AC,” I mumble, abruptly getting up, focusing on each step as to not mess them up - my mind spinning and swirling with something I didn’t understand. Fiddling with the AC I rub my own shoulders, trying to massage the tension away. It wasn’t helping.

Suddenly I feel warm, sure hands touching my back, moving upwards to my shoulder blades and digging into my skin. 

“You okay?” Paige asks, her voice still deep as she stands behind me and works my muscles gently. 

“Mm, yeah, just… tense,” I murmur, feeling every cell in my body wanting to melt away under her touch. Something I hadn’t felt in months, no, years.

“I told you,” Paige begins, her hands inching downwards to my lower back, kneading the skin there. “I’m right upstairs, if you need to relax.”

I let out a soft exhale, as we stand there, my eyes fluttering shut. “Well you’re here now,” I hum.

“I am,” the blonde whispers, hands sneaking even lower, to the hemline of my top, fingertips sneaking underneath ever so slightly. I bite my lip to hold in the shaky breath threatening to spill from my lips when her cool fingers massage the exposed skin. A heat spreads in my lower abdomen, making it hard to stand all of a sudden.

Suddenly, a buzz blares through the intercom, shaking us both out of the moment. Paige’s hands pull away abruptly as I take a breath to compose myself, allowing the loud buzzing to continue.

“Uh, must be the delivery guy,” Paige murmurs, reaching over my shoulder to let them in. I try to find my voice, something to say, but words seem to get stuck so I stay quiet, too absorbed by the heat roaming my stomach and thighs.

-

I had never seen Love Island before, and honestly, even after Izzie tried to explain, I still had no idea what was going on. All I could think about is how close I had been to leaning down and pressing soft, wet kisses on the back of her neck as I stood behind her in the corridor. To feel even more of her soft, tender skin by pulling that skimpy, flowy top off. To snake my arms around her waist and drag my hand down her stomach into her tiny shorts, my fingers hooking on her panties and pulling them to the side. I bet she’d be soaked at that point. But I’d take my time, rub slow circles on her clit till-

“So how is it?” Iz asks, curled up against the opposite corner of the couch. She’s sipping on the peanut butter cup milkshake carefully, eyeing the strawberry one in my hands, resting on my lap. Ever since she’d opened that front door I had been fighting not to ogle over her long, bare legs, her brown skin glowing from her post shower moisturiser, which smelled like rich vanilla. 

“It’s good, y’wanna try?” I offer, shaking the cup in my lap. With a coy smile, she crawls over, her hair falling over her shoulder. I watch, my need for relief between my thighs growing overwhelmingly.

The dark haired girl presses to my side as I hold the cup up, my gaze following closely when her plump, moisturized lips wrap around the straw. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, eyes fluttering shut. It’s like slow motion, the way it happens. And when her lids blink open again and she pulls away from the straw, our gazes lock. It’s enough for me to squirm and press my thighs together, feeling my core aching for something more.

“You like?” I ask, voice gentle. She nods, a small smile on her lips.

“I prefer that one.”

That instant, I grab the peanut butter shake from her, handing the girl the strawberry one.

“Wait, which one do you prefer?” She asks, chuckling a little.

“This one,” I answer confidently, lying as I sip on the peanut butter one. It’s enough to convince her. I watch Izzie pull a blanket over her legs, making me feel just the tiniest bit disappointed when they disappear from my view. However, she doesn’t move away, staying pressed against my side.

“Oh, sorry, did you want some?”

“Uh what?” I ask, discombobulated.

“Blanket, dummy,” she giggles, reaching over to place some over my legs.

“Sure,” I murmur, the idea of being under the same blanket with her making my head spin.

We sit next to each other, our thighs pressing together as we sip on our milkshakes, eyes focused on the tv. Or hers are. Mine keep fluttering back to her side profile, her dark, long eyelashes and the sharp tip of her nose.

“I can’t finish this,” Iz complains unsurprisingly considering the times I had heard her complain about the size of portions here in the States.

“No?” I ask, my shake already long gone.

“No,” the girl yawns and hands it to me, and in a silent exchange I grab it and finish it for her. Much like she did with my coffees in the mornings.

Just as the show begins to get interesting (though I still had no idea what the premise was), after about ten minutes or so, I feel Izara’s head tip against my shoulder. Heart beginning to pound once more, I glance down and notice that the girl’s eyes are shut. She must be asleep.

For a moment I just look at her, feeling the flutters grow in my stomach when she stirs slightly as I shift into a more comfortable position. Praying to God she stays asleep, I turn off the TV and make sure her bare feet are covered by the blanket, wrapping my arm around the back of the couch and pulling her close. Fighting the urge to lean down and press my nose against her hair, I grab my phone and scroll. We stay like that for at least 30 minutes, until my eyes begin to grow heavy too, my head nodding to the side and resting on top of hers as I drift to sleep.

-

The rays of the early morning sun penetrate through the blinds, the ache in my neck stirring me awake. I feel a weight on the left side of my body, my eyes batting open trying to focus on my surroundings. A living room that’s much like mine, yet the white lilies on the table tell me I’m not home.

“Mmhm,” a content hum makes my eyes flicker to my chest, where Izara is resting her head, arm draped over my waist, fast asleep. Suddenly the memory of her passed out in my arms from last night resurfaces. I must have fallen asleep too.

My arm is wrapped around her too, tingling as it begins falling asleep underneath the girl. There’s a certain softness to Izzie’s face that’s completely new to me. I begin to carefully pull my arm back, however it’s enough to cause the dark haired girl’s eyes to flutter open.

I watch closely as she goes through the same motions I had just a moment ago, until her green eyes land on me, head tilting upwards.. The moment she comes to a realisation about the way her arm and leg are draped over my body, a deep blush sets on her face.

“Shit, did we fall asleep?” Izzie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

I rub my eyes, my hand holding her close and beginning to rub her lower back comfortingly - almost like out of a habit I hadn’t had the chance to build yet. 

“We did,” I chuckle lightheartedly.

“Is it morning?” She asks, glancing at the sun rays shining in.

I check my phone. It’s 8:30 AM. 

“Kinda,” I yawn, shutting my eyes again knowing neither of us had work or any reason to get up soon either way. Though Izara seems to disagree.

She sits up abruptly, burying her face in her hand. I bite my cheek, trying not to groan at the loss of the comforting weight of the girl on me.

“Fuck, I was supposed to get up an hour ago,” Iz groans.

“At 7:30? It’s Saturday Iz,” I laugh, but quickly realise she’s genuinely stressed.

“I didn’t even finish the scheduling last night!” She gasps in realisation, bringing her hand to her shoulders to massage the tension away. I sit up, replacing her hand with mine in an attempt to calm her down but she stands up, avoiding my touch. 

“I knew this would happen if you came over Paige, that’s why I tried to say no! I have a job to do.”

It doesn’t bother me. What she’s saying. Because I can tell she’s not mad at me, really. She’s tense, she needs to relax.

“Iz,” I stop her rambling, standing up and wrapping my arms tightly around her, squeezing. It’s something my dad used to do, when I’d have anxiety or a meltdown as a child. The girl doesn’t fight me, but her breathing is shallow, tense as she stands still in my arms.

“Breathe with me,” I murmur softly, taking my time inhaling, and even more so when exhaling. Izara matches my breathing, and eventually, I feel the tenseness melt away from her body, which begins to mold into mine. I feel the girl’s hands wrap around my waist, her head resting against my chest again. It feels like heaven. I realise it’s the first time we’ve hugged.

“You okay?” I ask after a while, pulling my head back to look at the girl. That slight softness, reminiscent of how she looked while asleep returns to her face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for getting like that,” she whispers, meeting my gaze. I shake my head.

“Don’t worry ma,” I murmur, which makes her giggle.

“I’m not so sure about that nickname,” she laughs infectiously, making me laugh too.

“Forreal? Girls usually like it,” I grin, making her break into giggles. Never unwrapping my arms, I walk her backwards to the couch, letting go to sit the girl down. Her green eyes look up at me, confused.

“Now you’re gonna sit down, and I’m gon’ make some coffee for you.”

“But what about wo-”

“It can wait, it’s the weekend. You got time. Now lie down, chill, and wait.”

“But you don’t know how to use my french press.”

“I’ll figure it out. Sit, please Iz.”

With a sigh she gives up, curling up against the corner of the couch and pulling a blanket over herself. Pride spreads over me for getting the girl to relax. All because of my efforts.

I make my way into her tidy kitchen, hands desperately googling for instructions on how to work the french press sitting on the counter. Following the video I found carefully, I leave the coffee to brew while opening the fridge, each shelf organised perfectly. Ignoring Izara’s plans for blueberry oatmeal written on the chalkboard, I grab some peppers, cherry tomatoes and zucchini, carefully chopping them up the way the dark haired girl taught me to - by holding the tip of the knife against the board.

I fry the vegetables, adding in a mix of eggs and milk and scrambling it all together until done. Rummaging through the cabinets I find plates and mugs, setting everything up for the both of us, making sure to give the bigger portion to Izara.

She’s lying down on the couch, nose already buried in a book as I set everything down on the coffee table. The dark haired girl puts her book down, eyes widening. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have cooked.

“Uh, I made breakfast too, is that ok?” I ask, suddenly unsure.

She’s looking back and forth from the food to me. I chew on my lower lip to hide the nervousness.

“That’s… really sweet Paige,” she hums genuinely, reaching for her coffee and sipping on it. Relief washes over me, and I sit next to her. There’s something unfamiliar in her expression, something I can’t quite read.

“Well taste it first, thank me later,” I chuckle, handing Iz her plate. The girl’s lips wrap around the fork, and she smiles contentedly. 

“This is delicious,” she smiles, taking another bite and turning to me. “Thank you,” Izzie murmurs, her hand squeezing my thigh affectionately. At that moment I decide no amount of praise by her would ever be enough. That I would continue to strive to get more as long as I could. I had no other choice.

-

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[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ conflict ] | sylus

— summary: whatever they have is cosmic. which is why you quietly bow out, thinking you never stood a chance. — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, obligatory club scene, unrequited feelings, jealousy, sisterly love, self-loathing, suggestive, stream of conciousness, not proofread, mdni — notes: the next part for this. thank you for reading! — now playing: bad girls like you - tobii

—of course, by unwinding, you assumed Ms. Hunter meant the celebratory clink of whiskey glasses together, with something murky and vicious sloshing around inside. Something to take the edge off, to dull your senses, and to assuage the ache in your muscles where the painkillers couldn’t.

A club was the last place you expected to be after blowing an arms dealer and his men halfway to hell. 

Then again, you’re not complaining, swathed in the subdued glow of red strobe lights and fog. You’re in your element, surrounded by sweat-slicked bodies and people just trying to feel. 

The club reminds you of Lux, minus the cheap upholstery and subpar drinks. You’re at least 1,000 miles from Linkon, settled on some floating oasis in the middle of glistening aqua waters. You’ve barely had time to enjoy yourself, your trio hitting the ground running as soon as Sylus’ jet touched earth. You’ll be leaving in the morning, swept back into the lonely, glacial abyss of the N109.

So you dance like tomorrow isn’t promised. Like you’re performing onstage, garnering the lust and envy of those around you. You always do, the art of seduction practically ingrained in your DNA after using it to your advantage for so long. Years of luring men to their demise inhabit every sway of your hips, every roll of your body, every sultry curl of your lips.

Besides, being here is also a nice little distraction from the cacophony of your mind, replaced by good music thudding beneath your feet, and your cheeks aching with a tipsy smile. You grab the Hunter’s hips. Bring her closer until your chests collide, and she’s wide-eyed with parted lips, unsure of what to do with her hands. 

“Relax,” you soothe, your voice slurry as you encourage her to sway. To loosen up. She’s stiff at first but catches your drift, letting you control her with a wonky grin as her wrists cross behind your neck. That’s more like it. 

You fed her a few drinks to ease her nerves—it was her idea to come here. And after the three of you cleaned up and rested at the hotel, she suggested it over dinner. You and Sylus traded looks, your faces bearing different degrees of amusement. Ms. Hunter babe isn’t much of a social butterfly, but the pair of you relented, figuring you could use the diversion.

You’re playing up her allure. Whispering praise against her bangs, encouraging her to release her inner sexy. 

He’s been watching her from the VIP section since you dragged her to the dance floor. Scarlet eyes peeling through the smog, tuned to her every move. You wish it were you he eyed like that, but you shove those green-eyed thoughts onto the backburner, dancing, grinding, laughing. Losing yourself to the music. You’re on a mission to get her boned tonight. Living vicariously through her, knowing that it’ll never be you he beds. At least one of you can end the night on a good note. 

The song slides into something sultry. Ms. Hunter slips out of your grip, a giggling mess, stumbling towards the red velour couch where Sylus sits. You watch her plop down beside him, the cocktails slackening her grace. You can’t make out what they’re saying when he angles closer to hand her a drink. But he’s wearing that customary tilt to his lips, sweeping some hair behind her ear, where he eases in to murmur something against the shell of it. Whatever he’s on about, it makes her laugh, and she playfully smacks the devastating stretch of skin peaking through the slit of his silky button-down. 

Your lips twitch, smile falters. Everything around you morphs into a Gaussian blur, the music muddled as what’s left of your senses home into the scene. You swallow against the swell of feelings burbling up when Sylus pulls her closer, a long arm slung around soft shoulders. They exchange a look before the Hunter glances up, shaking you from your trance. She raises her glass to you in a quiet toast. As if to convey, I’m alright in case you were wondering. Of course, she is. Why wouldn’t she be when he handles her like glass, the fondness in his eyes as palpable as the bitterness scorching your throat?

Sylus’ gaze tracks to yours. You offer a quiet smirk with a tilted brow, tamping down your envy. Wearing that playful front once more, turning back towards the dance floor.

At least your plan is working, you muse, swallowed up by the crowd of writhing limbs and lust. She’s definitely going to get some tonight if the idle stir of his eyes whilst he painted a triangle between her lashes and lips is any gauge. You did your job. Well at that.

So why do you feel so shitty?

A virile arm snakes about your waist, siphoning your breath as it drags you against a hardened body. You tuck your inhibitions away as the stranger who grabbed you grins, dark hair sweeping over manicured brows. You let him guide you into a slow wind, grateful for the save.

And you’re utterly oblivious to red eyes scrutinizing the stranger’s hand as it splays against the space between your shoulder blades.

—

It’s quiet on the executive floor of the hotel. Then again, it’s a quarter to 2 AM, and you’re sure everyone occupying these rooms is sound asleep. So, you shush your Hunter friend for the umpteenth time, stumbling beside her as she giggles drunkenly into your ear. 

You can’t help the crack of a smile, her arm slung about your shoulder as you guide her towards her room, and she throws her head back, singing something that makes her voice crack and you wince. 

“Quiet,” you chide, your intermingled voices bouncing off the walls. You must be quite the sight. Two barefoot beauties stumbling down the hall, trying to make sense of the world. 

The embossed letters of her room pan into view. She laughs as you cautiously frisk her for the keycard after propping her against the door. She’s a little worse for wear. You feel bad, having overdone it with the cocktails. Not your fault you could hold your liquor while she couldn’t. So when Sylus left you to tend to “business,” as he so cryptically said, it was up to you to ensure Ms. Hunter made it back to her room without a hair out of place. 

So much for her getting laid tonight. 

Finally, you procure the card. You swipe it, taking the Hunter by the waist before she barrels in. Instinctively, her arms snake around your neck, and she stumbles into you, nearly knocking you off kilter. She’s all sloppy-grinned, the alcohol on her breath pushed into your nostrils. She blinks sluggishly at you, and you bite back a laugh. Never would you have imagined seeing Ms. Hunter, all prim and pretty and carefully constructed, looking like this. 

“You’re pretty, you know that?” she breathes, tapping your nose. You scoff, maneuvering yourself to herd her into her room. She carries on spewing nonsense as the pair of you toddle beneath the dim lighting of the room’s entryway. The king-sized bed slides into focus. You let her fall onto the mattress, steadying her before she can slide off. Her hair falls onto her face, a new onslaught of laughter spewing from her lips.

You kneel to grab her ankles, almost losing your footing yourself. You might not be as trashed as she is, but you’re still a little loose-limbed. A little tipsy, teetering on that slurry edge, having tamped down your inebriation to play big sister. 

“You’re gorgeous,” she continues when you stand, positioning her legs on the bed as comfortably as you can. 

You tuck her beneath the heavy blanket, ignoring her dribble. Scoop dark tresses away from her face, beholding red-speckled cheeks and swollen lips. It’s no wonder Sylus fell for her. She’s a marvel, girl next door pretty, where you’re a sex symbol, molded to be used and envied rather than exalted. 

Ms. Hunter teeters in and out of sobriety, sleep beckoning to her with its ghostly croon. Before you depart, she speaks to you again, her voice abrasive with exhaustion.

“The prettiest girl around. No one could keep their eyes off you, not even Sylus. He was practically drooling. You see that?”

You stiffen, your hand closed around the glacial brass of the door handle. You cock your head towards your shoulder, something warm flushing over your skin. She talks a lot for someone under the influence. But it’s if she’s read the inner turmoil coloring your mind, not like you do the best of jobs masking your feelings.

It wasn’t me he was drooling over, you want to say. It never would be. He’s too swept up in her. Their history, their past. You’re merely an afterthought in the grand scheme of things. Something disposable. Something pretty to further his agenda. Even if he was looking, it was probably to ensure you weren’t getting into trouble. 

He’d have a hell of a time finding someone on short notice to fill your shoes. His pretty little femme fatale. It just so happens you’re unconsciously grooming your replacement, treating her more like an ally than a rival.

You wait until her breaths even out. Until she’s sunken below the depths of unconsciousness before you slip out of her room, your chest heavy as if weighed down by an anvil and a bitter twist to your lips.

Before you can make your grand escape to your room to nurse your impending hangover, a familiar voice curls around the vowels of your name. Of course, he would have a room across from hers, and it is with bitter realization you look up at him from the floor, schooling your expression into one of indifference. 

Sylus leans against the doorframe, so very massive in comparison to it. You try to ignore what the playful cant to his lips does to you. How his pretty, scarlet-spun eyes dance when he studies you. Ignore how the tendons in his neck flex when he swallows, how his Adam’s apple bobs. The slither of tanned skin stretched over his pectorals calls to you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the need to touch. You stifle the feeling, barring your gaze from slinking lower. He’s devastating, and you don’t trust yourself not to make a move you’ll later regret right now.

“How is she?” he asks, the husky grit of his voice furling in your chest. Your heart sinks. Of course, he wouldn’t ask about you. You’re a big girl, more than capable of fending for yourself. To inquire about your status would be an insult according to him. You square your shoulders, sighing with that infuriatingly artificial smile to your lips.

“Hammered, but she’ll survive. She’s sleeping it off now.”

He snorts, shifting his weight between his feet. “Of course. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to go out after the day we had.”

You nod, suddenly hyper-aware of everything—your pulse thrumming in your ears. Your throat constricting. You toy with your fingers, taking this time to dismiss yourself before you spout out some nonsense.

“Gonna go get some sleep myself. See you in the morning.”

“Need some help getting back to your room?”

You peer at him from your shoulder, eyes slightly widened, mouth open, working around words that refuse to come. Something indiscernible lurks in his gaze. It’s as if he’s searching. Looking for something, though you’re sure you’re mistaken. 

“I’m alright,” you say with a sticky laugh, starting down the hall towards your room. All the while, your nerves scream through your inebriation, and you squint when you reach the door around the corner, inwardly admonishing yourself for turning him down. 

A delusional part of you believes there was more to his offer than what was presented at surface level. But you were too stuck in your head to read between the lines. After all, Sylus would never settle for someone like you. Not when you’re mere costume jewelry in comparison to gold. 

You throw yourself against the bed once you’re inside your room. Peer up at the ceiling, studying its texture until your vision slides into a vignette around the corners, and then you drift into the violet embrace of sleep, deciding to deal with this new swirl of feelings later.

[epicthemusicalstuff]

when telemachus fights the suitors in odysseous, do you think athena helped him? bc there's a moment when you can hear her motif as if she's about to take part, but then i can't hear it anymore

Athena 100% helped him!! Jorge shared a video a while back about how you can hear the Quick Thought sound in that song, and it’s meant to show she is helping plan the next move before he attacks!!

[faithshouseofsmut]

Just a taste||Vampire!Oscsr piastri x reader

Summary Oscar is obsessed with in an unhealthy way.

Word count 1158

Warnings — smut possessive Oscar Oscar wanting to bite the reader p in v smut

Oscar was utterly consumed by his infatuation with her. He fervently believed that she was a divine gift meant only for him. Her demeanor was gentle and pure. Oscar often reminisced about a time when he, too, embodied sweetness and innocence, before he succumbed to his vampiric nature and forfeited his humanity.

Oscar's infatuation was bordering on the grotesque. If his mother were still alive, she would have undoubtedly rebuked him for his unhealthy preoccupation with the girl. His feelings weren't born out of genuine love, but rather from a deep-rooted obsession, a malignant manifestation of his distorted desires.

As he sat across from her, his gaze was unwavering. He longed to delve into the depths of her soul, to possess her body and spirit as his own, to drink from her veins and taste her essence. He yearned to make her his own in the most primal, intoxicating way. As he sat across from her, his gaze was unwavering. He longed to delve into the depths of her soul, to possess her body and spirit as his own, to drink from her veins and taste her essence. He yearned to make her his own in the most primal, intoxicating way.

His thoughts were consumed by her, a constant refrain that echoed in his mind. He desperately wanted to claim her, to make her his own in every sense - body, mind, and soul. He longed to feel the warmth of her flesh against his cold, undead skin. He ached to taste her, to drink from the very core of her being. Her blood, hot and alluring, pulsated through her veins, calling out to him like a siren song. He imagined the metallic tang of her essence as it danced across his tongue, a forbidden nectar that only he would ever know.

The urge to claim her was like a voracious beast, consuming his thoughts and devouring his sanity. He wanted to feel her heartbeat against his lips, to savor the rhythm of her life force against his pale skin. The mere idea of tasting her blood sent ripples of desire through his undead frame. His thirst for her was relentless, a hunger that could never be satiated. He longed to sink his fangs into her tender flesh, to feel her blood flowing into him, connecting them in the most intimate and primal way. He envisioned the taste of her, the sweetness of her life force mingling with his dark essence.

He imagined the sound of her gasp as he claimed her, the way her breath would hitch at the contact between vampire and mortal. Her blood would be warm and rich, like molten lava against his cold tongue. He could almost taste the intoxicating mix of her innocence and desire. The thought of her surrender, of her yielding to him in every way, sent a shiver down his spine. Her body would be soft and pliable beneath his touch, like warm butter melting under the heat of his hands. He wanted to drink his fill of her, to leave her trembling and spent beneath him.

He longed to mark her, to claim her body with his own. His mouth would leave a trail of bites and bruises on her skin, a tangible reminder of his touch. He would possess her completely, leaving no inch of her body untouched and untasted. Her breath would come in gasps and moans, as she surrendered herself to his touch. Her body would respond to him instinctively, arching and writhing beneath his hands. He could practically hear the sound of her heart racing with desire and fear, the rhythmic thump echoing in his ears like a drum beat.

Only he didn’t have to imagine because she was here underneath him whimpering, whining, moaning, and begging for him.

“Oscar” she whimpered as he fucked her. The sound of her voice, pleading and needy, sent a jolt of desire through him, a primal need to possess her completely.

"Say my name again," he growled, his hands gripping her hips, his touch desperate and rough. "I want to hear you beg for me." He wanted to claim her, to make her his in the most primal, possessive way. With every shiver of her body, he could feel his control slipping, his desire consuming him.

"You're mine," he whispered his voice a low growl in her ear. "Say it. Say you're mine." His eyes gleamed with a primal hunger as he looked down at her, his fingers tracing a path down her body. He knew that she was his, body and soul, and he reveled in it. He relished the sounds of her surrender, the way her body responded to his touch.

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a possessive grumble. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it." He leaned down to press his lips to her neck, his fangs grazing her skin. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse beneath his mouth, like a drumbeat calling to him. He wanted to taste her, to mark her with his bite.

"I bet you taste so sweet," he murmured, his tongue tracing a path along the pulse point in her throat. "Like a drug, I can never get enough of." He could feel her shiver beneath him, her body responding to his touch like a finely tuned instrument. He had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her. Her whimpers and pleas were like fuel to a fire that burned deep within him.

"I'm going to claim you," he whispered, his voice barely above a growl. "And when I'm done, you'll never want anyone else but me." As he spoke, he pressed his body against hers, his muscles tense with desire. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the way her body fit perfectly against his. It was as if she had been made for him.

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And I will never let you go." His hands roamed her body, touching her in ways that made her gasp and writhe beneath him. He couldn't get enough of her, the way she reacted to his touch driving him to the brink of madness.

"Say it," he groaned, his lips grazing her ear. "Say you're mine. Say you belong to me." his pace was brutal as he fucked her hard.

“I’m your’s Oscar,” she replies.

As the words left her lips, something inside of him snapped. He felt a possessive rush wash over him, a primal need to claim her, to mark her as his own.

"Yes, you are," he growled, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine, and I'm never letting you go."

He pulled back slightly, taking in the sight of her beneath him - eyes wide, skin flushed with desire, and lips parted in a gasp. She was perfect, and she was his.

And all he needed now was just a taste…

[scoupsakakitty]

A Beat of Fate | idol!Woozi x idol!Reader | fluff

Y/N stood nervously in front of the door to Pledis Entertainment’s famous recording studio. Today was a big day—her first session with Woozi, Seventeen‘s talented producer and singer. She had arrived a few minutes early, unsure if that was a good or bad thing. After taking a deep breath, she knocked gently.

No answer.

Slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her eyes widened at the sight before her, mixing boards, flashing buttons, and glowing screens filled the room. It was like stepping into another world.

She couldn’t resist walking closer, her fingers itching to touch something. That’s when she saw them, a pair of headphones resting on the desk. Curiosity got the best of her. She looked around once more to make sure no one was there, then carefully put them on.

Pressing the play button, she was immediately hit by a smooth, catchy beat. It was impossible to stand still. Her head began to nod, her shoulders moved, and soon she was dancing softly to the rhythm. She didn’t even notice her smile growing wider as the music wrapped around her.

What she didn’t realize was that Woozi had arrived moments after her. He stood at the door, arms crossed, silently watching. A small smile tugged at his lips as he saw her lose herself in the music. There was something about her energy, her carefree movements, that completely captivated him.

Then it happened…Y/N spun around and froze.

She ripped off the headphones, her face turning red. “I-I’m so sorry!” she stammered, bowing deeply. “I didn’t mean to touch anything! I just—”

Woozi laughed, holding up his hands. “It’s okay. Really. I’m glad you liked it. Watching you dance to it was actually pretty cool.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait… you’re Woozi.”

“That’s me,” he said with a grin. “And you must be Y/N?”

She nodded quickly, still flustered. “Yes, that’s me. I’m really sorry again. The beat was just so good—I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy to see someone react like that to my work. It means a lot,” he said.

She let out a small laugh, the tension finally easing. “I’ve actually been a fan of Seventeen for a while. I’m not a Carat, but I listen to your songs a lot.”

“Oh? Which ones?”

“I really like ‘Home’ and ‘Adore U.’ They’re on my playlist all the time.”

Woozi’s eyes lit up. “Good choices. Those are some of my favorites, too.”

They shared a smile before Woozi gestured toward the recording booth. “Ready to get started? I can’t wait to hear your voice.”

Y/N nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it!”————————————————————————————-The session was going well. Y/N’s voice fit perfectly with the melody Woozi had created, and every take felt stronger than the last.

At one point, they took a break, and Y/N sat down beside him on the couch. She flipped through her notebook, reading over the lyrics carefully and mouthing the words to herself.

Woozi leaned back in his chair, intending to check his phone, but instead, his eyes drifted to her.

She looked so focused, her brows furrowed slightly as she studied each line. She tapped her pen against the edge of the notebook and occasionally whispered a lyric under her breath, testing how it sounded. Her hair fell softly around her face, and the faint glow of the studio lights made her features look even more delicate.

Woozi couldn’t stop staring.

There was something about her.. something effortlessly beautiful and calming. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but she still managed to leave him completely mesmerized.

Suddenly, Y/N looked up and caught him staring.

Her eyes widened. “What? Is something wrong?”

Woozi blinked and quickly sat up straighter. “No! Nothing’s wrong.”

She tilted her head, clearly not buying it. “Then why were you looking at me like that?”

He hesitated, then smiled softly. “I guess I was just… admiring how focused you are. You look so natural here, like this is where you’re meant to be.”

Y/N’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked down at her notebook with a shy smile. “That’s… really sweet of you. Thank you.”

Woozi grinned. “It’s not just sweet. It’s the truth.”

She gave a quiet laugh and turned her attention back to her lyrics, but Woozi kept stealing glances at her. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t look away.

The rest of the session flew by. Woozi continued to be impressed by her voice and professionalism, and they found themselves laughing and chatting between takes.————————————————————————————-By the end of the day, Woozi couldn’t ignore the feeling growing inside him. He liked being around her more than he expected.

“Y/N,” he said as she packed up her things, “I had a great time working with you today. Would you maybe… like to grab dinner sometime? I’d really like to keep talking with you.”

Y/N paused, surprised, but then smiled brightly. “I’d like that a lot.”

They exchanged numbers, and as she headed toward the door, she turned back and gave him a little wave. “Thanks again for today. I’ll see you soon.”

Woozi stood there long after she left, a grin spreading across his face.

Wow.————————————————————————————-

[rizdoodls]

Maybe Prefect Rizy lost the deal in book 3?

Or maybe she just got tricked by Azul because he was interested in her? (For love..?)

Even I don’t know, it’s up to you to imagine hehe~

What I like about my twstsona is that, since she’s not an officially canon character, I can put her in any situation. She’s not meant for anything concrete, not even for a specific ship, and I can always use the parallel universes excuse to place her in any scenario.💕

(Lol, I got this idea after seeing a trend on TikTok with the song "Shut Me Up")

➡️[starting at 2:00]

[drysdalesworld]

work song

pairing: luke castellan x fem!nike!reader

genre: angsty, some fluff, & comfort

word count: 1.3k+

warning(s): mentions of violence, mentions of nightmares, mention of reader death in dreams, luke being sleep deprived, & kronos talking to luke

note: happy new year! here’s my new year gift for y’all <3 idk what’s up with me & always writing nike!reader fr. not set in the “the sun & it’s shadow” universe! but there are alludes to nike!reader. please ignore the many inaccuracies in this 🙏 not proofread!

Luke Castellan didn’t like going to bed.

Going to bed meant falling asleep and falling asleep meant he’d dream and dreaming meant he’d be met with images of death, revenge, destruction, and hope. He often saw the destruction of Camp Half-Blood the minute his head hit the pillow. Of Mount Olympus and the Gods. But, mostly of you.

Luke would hold your limp and cold body in his arms as he cried for you, jerking awake with gasps and tears. An aching feeling settling in his chest as he clawed at his rapidly beating heart, trying to calm himself down, gripping the sheets beneath him as he caught his breath. Nights like these always ended up with him dragging himself to cabin seventeen, crawling into your bed as you soundly slept, arms instinctively wrapping around the body of your beloved as if you knew he needed the comfort.

Those kinds of nightmares shook the Castellan boy to his core. He didn’t know why he dreamt of those kinds of things. Causing any kind of pain to you was something he’d never dream of doing, but yet his dreams were often full of it. You dying by his hand, blood staining his hands crimson.

Sleep didn’t come easy when he was alone. Haunted by the future images of destruction and loss. It was a never ending cycle that Luke Castellan could not escape. His only freedom from it was in your arms, which is a place where he found himself tonight.

Luke currently found himself sprawled across your nearly made bed, all four corners tucked tightly into the bedframe and stuffed animals piled onto the end of your bed. His calloused fingers lightly drummed against the soft material of your bed spread. He was always impatient when it came to waiting for you to return from your nightly gossip sessions in the Aphrodite cabin.

The familiar sound of cabin seventeens buzz began to quiet down as the night got later and everyone got settled for bed. Luke was the only one awake by the time every Nike child fell into a deep slumber, tossing a small stuffed teddy between his hands as he continued to wait, desperately trying to silence his racing thoughts.

It was always the same every night—lay awake, stare into the dark corner of the Hermes cabin, strain his ears for any strange sounds until he heard his voice, and try not to go mad.

He succeeded most nights. But on the nights where Luke’s strength and sanity wore thin, he crawled into the very space he’s occupying at the moment.

Luke.

The teddy bear fell limp against the boys chest as he halted his movements in tossing it.

Luke, I know you can hear me.

Eyes squeezed shut and muttering the same comforting story his Mother used to whisper to him as a child before slumber took him into their embrace.

You can fight it all you want, Luke. But we both know you’re already mine. You can’t stop fate.

The Hermes boy continued to mutter the bedtime story to himself, losing count of how many times he had to repeat it. His throat began to hurt.

It’s fate. All of it is fate. You’ll join me. She’ll die. The Gods will submit to our orders and grant you whatever you desire, Luke.

Luke’s eyes were closed so tightly that the rushing of blood in his ears began to hurt his head, tears spilling out from the corners and ran down the sides of his face.

No matter how hard you try, you’re not strong enough to save her.

“Shut. Up.” Luke whispered, hands going up to his hair, tugging the strands in frustration.

I thought you wanted this, Luke? Wanted the Gods to pay for their negligence and cruelty? To see them bow at your feet, begging for mercy?

“No,” he muttered. It’s not worth it if she dies. None of it is. He thought to himself.

Luke Castellan knew that the visions Kronos showed him in his sleep were exaggerations of what could happen. So when he started to see your death by his hands, he began to reconsider reaching out to Kronos and exact revenge on the Gods. He couldn’t live without you, as dramatic as it sounded. It was true.

The dark haired boy knew that the old Titan was going to answer, but the creaking of the cabin floors and the sound of your familiar pitter-patter is what broke the connection.

Luke bolted up, the stuffed teddy falling to the floor.

“Oh my Gods, Luke! You scared me. Why aren’t you in bed?” You whispered, hand over your chest as your heart rapidly beat against it from the unexpected fright.

Your boyfriend didn’t answer you. He instead stood up from your ruffled bedspread and gathered you into his arms, face digging into your neck as he held you tightly to his frame.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You gently asked, hands wrapping around his shoulders as your hands wandered to his dark curls.

Luke’s silence is all you needed as you hummed out an acknowledgment, fingers gently rubbing circles into his scalp. He had told you of his particular struggles after he had battled back and forth with himself for days about the wrongness of it all. You were shocked he would ever do such a thing, but you understood. You understood what he was trying to achieve, begging him to not go through with it. Being intertwined with a Titan like Kronos could not garner positive results. Luke agreed to not go further, but Kronos still lingered and until the two of you could find a way to break that connection, he would continue to whisper horrendous things into Luke’s ear.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” You asked, softly pulling him away from your neck so you could get a good look at him.

He had dark circles under his eyes. His dark locks were tangled and wild. His cheeks looked sunken in a bit, a sign that he wasn’t eating or sleeping properly.

A frown etched itself onto your face, thumbs traveling to his cheeks to gently caress them. He leaned into your touch, Luke’s eyes bore into your own as the two of you stood there in complete silence and darkness.

“It’ll all be alright, okay? We’ll figure it out. We always do, Luke” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your boyfriends chin, narrowly missing his bottom lip.

Luke only meekly nodded, allowing you to guide the both of you to your bed, swiftly tugging at the tightly tucked sheets. Once the soft sheets were untucked, you crawled in first, laying yourself back first as you opened your arms for Luke to nestle himself in. And that he did.

You wrapped your arms around Luke as he brought the covers up to both of your chins, face tucked into your neck once again. He melted into your frame, body relaxing as the only thing he could hear was your heartbeat against his ear.

No words were further exchanged between the two of you. The only sound of crickets and the howling wind echoing throughout the cabin. You knew that this would be a topic for tomorrow and that the only thing that mattered in the moment was Luke getting some deserved sleep. You couldn’t fathom the kind of struggle he went through everyday and you only hoped that your presence at least eased it in some way.

Luke knew that this had to come to an end. He was tired of feeling this way and not getting a reprieve from the Titan. He needed to protect you from the influence of Kronos. No matter what it took.

Sleep finally consumed the both of you after minutes passed. You dreamt of archery and training with your siblings while Luke dreamt only of darkness and guilt.

[alchemistc]

43. undone if it speaks to you <3

Getting back to these because I have a lot of fleeting half ideas I need to get rid of to focus on the Cap Buck series. This once again got longer than I meant it to so happy new year.

It takes Eddie about half an hour to realize Buck and Tommy are actually having a drawn out argument, right here in public, instead of just bickering the way he's so used to.

It's...strange.

The thing is he's always seen Tommy with a lid on it - he projects a certain image in a public, and a slightly less restrained image in private, and Eddie is absolutely certain the Tommy he knew six months ago would have rather eaten a live scorpion than air his shit out in such a public setting.

He supposes six months into their second at bat and Tommy's a little less concerned about laying a bunt.

It's subtle, is the thing. Eddie has had screaming matches with Buck in very public places before, he knows the usual script. Emotional land mine after emotional land mine exposed to whoever's in hearing distance, no holds barred, knock down, drag out shit. It's probably why it takes him so long to notice, because this is some fucking terrible amalgamation of Buck and Tommy at their worst and he is not a fan.

Hen goes to get another round with a raised brow in Eddie's direction that means she's definitely noticed too and will be taking her damn time getting back.

Chim's too busy staring all moony-eyed at a ready-to-pop Maddie absolutely killing her karaoke song to care when Tommy grimaces and rolls his jaw while Buck whispers something Eddie doesn't quite catch.

Eddie takes a drink. Then another.

He's down to the ice in his rocks glass.

"You aren't seriously trying to argue that projected stats have more weight than a full career, are you?" Tommy asks, and Eddie sort of wants to hit them both, because what? What? This whole thing started when a song reminded Buck that Tommy had once implied he didn't have enough gay experience to really love Tommy. Or. That was the gist, according to Buck. Famously not a reliable narrator in high emotion moments, but Tommy's never outright denied it, to Eddie's knowledge.

"I'm just saying, Gretzky's goal record is gone, so how can you say people with a decade of play left in them can't be in the conversation to surpass him? Statistically -."

Tommy's eyes glint. He looks mad.

When he stands from his seat, Buck throws both arms in the air. "Yeah, walk away," he spits, and Tommy, two steps towards the restroom already, spins on his heel with clenched fists.

Eddie has a sudden, clarifying memory of Buck reading off the statistics for couples who make it past the first six months. First year. First two, and five. Statistics for couples who took a break. Statistics for gay men, specifically, when he realized his sample size was skewed too straight.

Jesus Christ, he'd rattled those off to Tommy, too.

"I'm not subjecting Eddie to the shit I have to say to you right now, Evan," Tommy says, jaw clenched, hands digging into his pockets. He rocks back on his heels, tension fucking rolling off of him.

Buck stands too. Makes a sweeping gesture that seems to piss Tommy off more, and then they're both disappearing into the crowd.

Hen sets a new drink down in front of Eddie twenty seconds later.

"Thank you for leaving me to witness that by myself," Eddie manages, with a wry twist to his smile, and Hen grins back.

"Their foreplay sure has kicked it up a notch," she says, and Maddie crinkles her nose as she drops back into the booth beside Chim.

"If Jee hadn't been there they'd have screwed in my bathroom last week, I just know it."

Eddie shakes his head between them. "They - you guys know they were fighting, right?"

Maddie raises a brow at him like he's cute. Like a cute confused little puppy. Oh he hates that.

"Tommy deciding one of them dying was the only way they'd be free of each other has opened up a whole new world of ways for Buck to get his rocks off," Hen intones, like it's obvious. "This is just their flirty bickering turned up to eleven."

Eddie takes about twelve minutes to digest that - just long enough for Hen and Chim to get a duet in, long enough for him to drain another drink, long enough for Maddie to decide the baby's officially tapped out for the night, long enough for Chim to grab their jackets and toss a few bills on the table before he's herding his wife out the door.

Tommy rounds the corner and settles back into his seat looking decidedly more relaxed. There's at least one less button hooked on the flannel he's been wearing all night. It takes Eddie a second to register that his face is a little dewy, like he'd recently splashed water on it.

Hen makes a face a second before Eddie gets it.

"Oh come on, man."

Tommy's lips twist into a grin, and he yelps when Hen kicks out at him under the table. "Low hanging fruit, Kinard."

"I mean, one of us did," Tommy manages with a shrug, and only winces at the second kick.

Buck slides in next to him with a fresh beer for each of them and slaps a hand high on Tommy's thigh. Possessive. Still clearly a little riled.

"Yep, I'm out," Hen murmurs, and Eddie scrambles after her.

[hellishjoel]

once strangers

929 words / pairing: javier peña x f!reader

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

word: scarf

warnings/information: fluff, meet-cute

a/n: @iknowisoundcrazy inboxed me a super adorable meet-cute a few months back, and I haven't stopped thinking about it! I tweaked it a little with the setting because I also wanted to send some new year's love to @jolapeno and pay homage to her masterpiece, late night texts! I love you both! - my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

Moving to the city felt like an appropriate change. 

Your life before was stagnant. Same friends and hobbies, no new boyfriend, same old job. And in many ways, moving to the city did give you a lot of new opportunities. You were fresh-faced in a new career path, meeting cool people through work and social outings, and you picked up different ways to keep your hands busy while watching TV and stuffing your face with Chinese takeout. 

One constant in your routine has always been taking a moment to step outside for fresh air during the workday. Even in the most corporate of settings, staying cooped up indoors all day is never an option.

Perched on your favorite park bench, you sip a coffee and stare menacingly down at the daily crossword in the paper. You wiggle your pen back and forth between your middle and index finger, glaring at the puzzle as if it offended you. 

“Norma blank. Three letters across,” you mutter to yourself. Norma Jean? Isn’t that a Michael Jackson song? No, that’s Billie Jean. You bite down on the top of your pen and let out a slow sigh. 

“Rae,” a low, raspy voice mutters beside you. The stranger meets your eyeline and tips his chin towards your crossword. “Norma Rae. It’s a movie before your time. Sally Fields plays a factory worker who becomes involved in a trade union at the factory she works at. It’s good.” 

Your crossword lies forgotten on your lap as your attention drifts to the striking man nearby. His black leather jacket shields him from the city’s biting wind, while aviators with yellow-tinted lenses add a touch of intrigue. A ’70s-style mustache frames his face, perfectly complementing his jet-black hair. Handsome, older, and effortlessly confident, he doesn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation, teasing you about your glaring gaps in film trivia.

“Thanks,” you whisper, back in concentration mode as your pen fills in the missing letters r-a-e.  

It’s a rare thing, sharing the same bench with a stranger in this city, but somehow, there he is beside you, his presence an unexpected disruption to the quiet rhythm of your break.

A quiet tension lingers between the two ends of the park bench. Part of you hesitates, worried that breaking the silence might make you seem unhinged. Yet another part of you silently wills him to speak first, hoping he'll bridge the gap.

You both sip your coffees in unison before you’re back at it. 

Frodo’s burden, ring. Bird food, seed. 

The grip on your pen falters as you encounter another impasse. 

Your work break is meant to be a sacred reprieve, but instead, you're faced with a fiendishly challenging crossword that has every mental gear turning at full speed.

“Pen.” The stranger notes. He’s already glancing at you and your half-filled crossword puzzle once again. His shades are off this time, revealing eyes as dark and intoxicating as aged whiskey—both dangerous in excess.

“I’m sorry?”

“Pen.  Bold choice, you must be pretty confident,” He remarks, sliding closer to you on the bench, his voice warm and teasing. He extends his hand, and for a moment, you hesitate, unsure if he’s expecting a handshake or the crossword. Then his smirk deepens, his palm steady and waiting. Without a word, you place the pen in his hand, feeling the brush of his fingers against yours.

“Dryer accumulation, lint. Old hag, witch.” His handwriting is vastly different from yours. He sketches in the letters with messy dashes and capital letters that make your dainty lowercases look sweet and delicate. “Hawaiian volcano, Mauna blank… Mauna Kea.” 

“Loa,” you intercept the pen before he can fill in the empty squares incorrectly. The stranger connects the dots and nods slowly with a stolen smile. “It’s Loa because 38 down is… Lotus for Sacred flower.”

You find yourselves inching closer as you focus on filling in the missing letters. His hand is still holding the ghost of your pen and what was once a casual gesture shifts into a firm handshake, his grip confident, his eyes roaming over you without a hint of hesitation. There's an undeniable weight to his gaze, one that holds no shame.

“Javier. Six letters across, phone number’s ten down,” he murmurs, his voice low and assured. Before you can respond, he takes the pen from your grasp, casually scrawling his name in elegant cursive over the top of your crossword. As he writes, the phone number stretches down the page. Javi. Just like that, he’s left his mark.

“As fun and embarrassing as this was, I should get back to work,” you say, the heat rising from your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears. Wow, was he smooth. 

With your nerves in a jumble, you scramble to pack up your belongings, already bracing yourself to scream about the cute stranger you met when you meet up with your girlfriends later tonight.

Javi is quick to his feet, something familiar outstretched in his hand. “Woah, hold on, hermosa,” his deep, commanding baritone washed over you as the compliment slipped effortlessly from his lips. “Your scarf.” 

You could not be more uncouth if you tried. 

“Thanks,” you say with shy smile, your fingers weaving around the fabric, but he doesn’t let go.

“You’ll call me?” 

He steals a small laugh from you, the wind sending a shiver up your spine. “I think I have to,” you say. “There’s a new crossword every day with nuanced references.”

“So, same time and place tomorrow? Let me buy your coffee.”

Y-e-s.  

[kiame-sama]

why is (Y/n) so descriptionless? Like, what song was playing? What food does she like? Why don't you give details on her??

Do you understand what 'reader insert' means? Genuinely, do you understand this as a concept? Because I don't think you do if you are asking me this.

Reader insert means you (THE READER) put in the information YOU want. I am not going to hold your hand or spoonfeed you the information because I don't know you or what your preferences are. I don't know what you are allergic to. I don't know your favorite song. I don't know your name. I don't know your fav food. I can only put vague sweeping details because it is meant to be that way. That is why I am ambiguous about things, it is meant to be ambiguous.

What song was it? That is a YOU choice. That is the entire point of reader inserts. To INSERT your own information in the blanks. I avoid giving personal information because it is is a reader insert. If this was an OC fic, I would put that information in, but it isn't. It is a READER INSERT.

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

begging anyone for Vi x reader x Ellie

ANYTHING.

PUH LUH EASE

WUH LUH WUH

i’ve got you bestie you just might wanna have that therapist on speed dial, okay? soz… 🫣

death doesn’t discriminate

Vi x reader x Ellie

Summary: you were never jackson’s best fighter, you never had to be. you were of course taught the basics of self defense, and if you ever were being attacked and it was between you or them it had to be you… every single time. you just never expected to ever have to put those skills to use… unfortunately though whenever patrol goes awry and you encountered a group of bandits you had to, making your very first kill. obviously after the event you’re left traumatized, and its up to your girlfriends to pull you from the aftermath.

Contains/TW: takes place in the tlou-verse with arcane crossover characters because obviously, innocent and super sheltered reader, i’ve seen the discourse but i AM making it to where ellie CAN pick the reader up (because fuck you that’s why! 💜), told in 1st person, polyamory, set in jackson post-joel death HOWEVER obviously ellie didn’t decide to hunt down ms. girl again. mentions of murder, blood, and just gore in general and HEAVY implications of suicidal ideation. ((this is not meant to romanticize suicide in any way, i’m writing from my own personal experiences. if you or someone you know is struggling please get help. you are loved 💜)) Heavily based off of the song listed below including its lyrics that are obviously not my own creation but def wish they were 💔

WC: 2.2k

You think at some point you would grow used to death, it was always leering. Either a subtle shadow hanging by the back door or growing to overtake the whole compound. In some cases it was merciful, swiftly ending your pain through broken pleas or just pure exhaustion. But in other cases, and the ones I found to be most common, it was known to be rather violent.

I was surprised I even remembered what to do whenever the time came. A dreaded audition it felt like as I slowly trailed Ellie’s gaze to the switchblade in my back pocket, the cold press of a gun against my temple. I don’t think I even processed what had happened until I was backing away, staring at the dead body before me and the still warm blood now coating my hands. My breathing came out in startled gasps, shrieking in traumatized fear the moment I felt her arms wrapping around me from behind.

“It’s me, baby, it’s just me.” She whispered, taking me into her soothing arms even though I tried like hell to fight her off at first leaving streaks of blood in the shape of my hands against her shirt. She only held my trembling body to her chest as I tried to hold back the sobs.

‘You made one kill. Everyone here has at least made one kill. It shouldn’t affect you this much. You’ve lived your whole life letting other people do the dirty work for you, you should be able to make one kill. One measly little kill of a man who would’ve killed you had you not acted so fast.’ I guess I was the only one left who didn’t think the world was that black and white though.

~

I felt catatonic as we made our way back to Jackson, Ellie’s arms holding most of my weight. I half wanted her to leave me there, leave me there to bleed and be ravaged by whatever found me first. She never would though, even if it did mean she’d have less deadweight.

Vi never was a fan of the two of us going out on patrol without her. She always considered herself our guard dog, even over Ellie who could no doubt hold her own at this point. Many nights we still spent dozing off against her while she whispered to us that we were ‘her girls.’

“Vi, emergency.” I heard Ellie speak, my head a dull weight against her chest as she carried me through the front door.

“This is the last time the two of you go on patrol without me, I mean it this time, Els.” I heard her seething as her heavy boots nearly shook the whole house. “Is she hurt? Are you hurt? What the hell happened?”

“I’m fine but she… she had to-” Ellie held the words back, not wanting to speak them in front of me as I felt my body being placed on one of the old ratty recliners. Dead eyes staring forward, like every ounce of light had been winked out a long time ago.

Vi’s own soft blue eyes drifted downwards to the dry blood coating my still shaking hands, the quickest moment of understanding filling her expression. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” She murmured, the sentiment enough to bring forth a cascade of tears that I had been holding back until we were safely concealed in the walls again. “You did good though, doll, I need you to know that. You did amazing. Remember what we said, if it’s them or you it has to be you every single damn time.”

I sniffled through the ugly sobs with a shake of my head, I disagreed though I suppose I would always disagree. “She should’ve left me out there.” I finally spoke again after I had what felt like the inability to.

Quickly and without hesitation I could feel Ellie’s hand wrapping around my chin, gentle but firm as she turned my head to face her. “No, you aren’t allowed to say things like that.”

“Why not?” I shook my hand, eyes stinging and burning with tears as I watched her kneel in front of me with what looked like a wet washcloth.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” She didn’t answer me, carefully dabbing at my bloodied hands to wash all of the evidence away. Even though part of me wanted it to stay, tattoo the remnants of blood on my hands until I remembered who I was.

“Tell me why you shouldn’t have left me.” My voice shook as I repeated the question. Push until they finally said the truth. Push until they finally agreed to throw me to the wolves. Push and push and push… “I’ve been nothing but deadweight since I got here.”

“No.” Vi almost growled next, wrapping her own larger hand around my chin this time while I only stared back in defiance. “You are not deadweight, you are valuable and needed and- and we need you alive! I need you alive!”

“Darling, you don’t have to be a fighter to be important.” Ellie spoke next, much gentler than Vi had but still stern nonetheless.

It was hard to find a purpose to live in the apocalypse, I wasn’t sure where everyone found one. I knew Ellie had always had some terrible sense of self importance with the immunity. I guess over the years she had tried her hardest to transfer that to me. Some days it worked. Some days were good, amazing even. Gentle and soft days where I could dream about a world before the infection. A world I’m not sure I or Ellie ever remembered. Some days though, days like today, being reminded of that thought really changed things.

Vi had always been an ‘alive out of spite’ kind of person. Then one day Ellie and I rolled up into Jackson and turned her world upside down and shifted things for the better… that’s how she would tell it at least. She was slightly older, tougher, rough around the edges, but deep down I think she was secretly just lonely. She took us underneath her wing just as quickly as we arrived, all too happy to open her doors for us and things grew and built from there. But no amount of love or care I was given from the two was enough to cover up the fact, if I went outside of the walls something disastrous always managed to happen.

I was just simply deadweight. A bad luck charm if you will. These things never ended well.

“Baby, you’ve just had a bad day.” Vi shook her head as she took my own into her calloused hands. “That’s all it is, my love. We’re in the times of survival now, it’s kill or be killed and… I’m not losing either of you.”

I choked on another pathetic sob, hating myself more and more for every single one. Nevertheless though Vi pulled me into her, muffling the sounds of my cries into her shirt. Traumatized and shaking cries that I rarely actually allowed myself the luxury of, so whenever they came, they came all at once.

~

I fell asleep early that night. Vi running Ellie and I a bath to wash all of the dirt and grime from the disasterous patrol from our bodies. At some point I lost the strength to cry, but I felt like I had lost the strength to do most things. At some point over my sleeping body I had heard Ellie whispering to Vi though, to hide all of the guns, knives, switchblades, anything that could ever be used as a weapon. A mental patient in the middle of the apocalypse. Oh the irony.

“You think she would actually do something to herself?” Vi whispered in her hushed tone while Ellie gnawed anxiously at her already chipped nails.

“Yeah, I do.” She answered with a shuddering breath. “This is worse than Seattle and I- I already thought I was gonna lose her then- Vi, I’m not taking anymore chances.”

“Hey, listen, we’ll take care of her, okay? We’ve got her. We always do.”

“I hope so.” I could hear the rustling of clothes, no doubt an embrace she probably needed. An embrace they probably both needed. And I hated that I was the one who brought them there.

A moment passed and I had nearly managed to doze off again somehow in in the midst of it all just before I could feel the bed slightly dipping behind me. “Just me, you’re safe.” Ellie warned, waiting on my already exhausted muscles to relax before she slid her arms around me from behind. “I need to talk to you, okay?” She whispered against the back of my neck, my heavy eyelids fluttering open for a brief moment. “It’s okay, you can close your eyes. And you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to just… just listen, okay?”

Her fingers gently stroked soothing lines along with arms, the sensation only making my eyelids want to droop even further. “I’ve always had a- a really strong urge to protect you, Vi and I both have. A-And I think you know that. So if you wouldn’t have killed that man I wouldn’t have hesitated. He doomed himself. The moment he laid a goddamn finger on you he doomed himself. And Vi would’ve done the same thing and I think you know that too. Hell, he wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to if Vi was there.” Her fingers slid through my own, a soft yet possessive grasp.

“I know you think I gave up looking for Abby because you were reckless a-and you got hurt and you ruined things. And you were reckless, and you did get hurt but… you didn’t ruin things. You- You just changed things, for the better.” Her lips brushed against my neck, an innocent gesture though had me tilting my head to grant her more access all the same. “You saved me, baby.” She muttered, burrowing her face right into the crook of my neck as she pulled my back in closer to her chest. “I- I could’ve spent my whole life hunting that girl down, because- T-Tommy did ask me to, you know?” Her voice cracked, the feeling of small tears dripping onto my skin, a very simple way to get them to spring up into my own eyes all over again. Just whenever I thought I had been all cried out.

“You- You actually told him no?” My bottom lip quivered as I slowly twisted around to face her, just to feel her own calloused hand against my face. “But I thought you- you promised-“

“It’s not going to bring him back, love.” She shook her head, glancing downwards as if in mild shame. “But whenever you went after me in Seattle and- you got hurt…” she brushed her fingers along the jagged scar slashed into my arm that she was more or less cradling. “I know you were knocked out and you don’t remember a lot of it but… i-it really scared the fuck out of me, y-you know? Like I could lose you. I-I could really honestly lose you and… nothing is worth that, baby. Not a single thing is worth that.”

Tears swam in my eyes as she pressed her lips to the wet streaks that stained them. “You’re an angel, my love. An angel on this absolute fucked up planet and I-I pity every single person that doesn’t get to know you like Vi and I do, you know?” She briefly disconnected her hand from my face to brush away her own tears only to let it snake through my hair as she tugged me back into her chest. “You’re innocent, and you’re kind and you didn’t let any of this take it away and- I hope you never do, honestly.” I felt her chest sinking as she took in a heavy breath and held me to her almost for dear life. Like she was afraid I’d slip away the moment I let go. “No amount of self-sought fury will bring that back… I’ve tried. S-So please, I know it’s hard to find a purpose in this life but… please baby, please stay with me. With us.”

I curled up to her side, resting a heavy head right against where I could feel her heart thumping so softly. The other side of the bed dipped and while I might have flashed back to that moment briefly Ellie’s arms wrapped around me so protectively were enough to pull me back down to earth. At least for a moment.

“My girls.” Vi’s voice followed next, her arm nearly long enough to stretch over the both of us as she brought us close to her with ease. I felt my back pressing against her muscular chest as she settled down next to us, taking her usual trusty spot closest to the door as always.

It was hard to promise survival during the end of the world, even safe within the walls of a community. But for that night I at least promised I wouldn’t do it on my own accord. Someday, somewhere, something would kill me, but it wouldn’t be at my own hand.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[monstertreden]

✦ BE(E) MY DATE? ✦

-Reader: FEM reader -TW: none, just an adorable bee -Character: Bumblebee (Transformers movie 2018) -Summary: Bumblebee is trying to get accustomed to earth traditions in order to impress his favourite human -Word count : 1448 A/N: This was an anonymous request of a while back. I went with the Fem Pov, but this could be read with a GN reader too. What a way to open this 2025! Wish you all the best things in the world!🍀

The evening sky was starting to feel more alive as stars emerged one by one. With no light pollution ruining this view, the atmosphere felt so relaxing, a quiet peak for living in such a peaceful town. Your home garden was glowing, illuminated by tiny star-shaped lights strung around the tree branches. In the middle of it all stood a cheerful, giant yellow bot. He fumbled with his radio, playing different romantic songs as he tried to find justtt the right one to set the perfect mood. Bumblebee was buzzing with excitement, unable to wait another hour until you got home from your job and spend the rest of the night with him outdoors. Today had been a little different. It had been hours since you’d left for work and you’d insisted on taking the bus to work, much to Bumblebee’s dismay. He’d watched you wave goodbye as he beeped sadly…but once you were out of sight, his little antennas perked up and twitched like bunny ears: if he couldn’t spend all day with you then he would make that night unforgettable! The thought had driven him all afternoon as he kept carefully arranging what he had gathered, it had to be perfect because you deserve nothing less!

A jazzy love song hummed through his speakers before he quickly cut it off again, second-guessing his choice, followed by an upsetting beep.

Postponing his final decision on the special song, Bumblebee turned his attention to the messy setup he had previously sprawled on the flower-patched blanket… one he might have “borrowed” from her bedroom through the window…ops, but it was one of his favorite too, one you often shared with him while watching some movies back in the garage, other than being soft, it fitted the romantic vibe he was striving for. Smothering the blanket again, having spotted a small wrinkle,  his digits fidgeted slightly with the patch of wildflowers he had directly plucked from the ground earlier, ensuring they looked intentional rather than, well… stolen. Were there enough flowers? Or were they too many? He tilted his helm as if reconsidering his choice, before turning to the unplugged microwave, that somehow contained various cookies inside and the carefully inclined projector screen propped up against the white wall of your home. The screen’s angle had been adjusted multiple times until he was satisfied, though he still glanced at it every few moments to make sure it hadn’t shifted.

It had taken him ages to figure out how humans got their movie setups just right, and, even now, he still wasn’t sure he had nailed it. Beside it, a wicker basket was overfilled with treats he’d seen you enjoy: chips, candies, and a variety of drinks, so many you wouldn’t go hungry... though he had no idea what half of them tasted like...Would you notice the missing bags of sour candies? He might’ve… tested one or two. For science. Did you have that many treats in your kitchen cabinets though? Of course not, the truth was that some, well, most of the items inside weren’t “exactly” yours. The yellow bot had borrowed, again, okay, maybe taken a few things from the local store storage without paying, but only because he still didn’t understand how human transactions worked. Plus, wasn’t food meant to be shared? You loved snacks! And he wanted the best ones for you!

“Cool and smooth!”. He echoed the phrase to himself, with the enthusiasm of a DJ who knew what they were doing. Excitement and anxiousness coursed through his circuits, he had seen countless Earth movies and TV series with you, how your face lit up when romantic picnics were on-screen. “Aren’t they adorable, Bee?” you’d sighed, smiling softly at a scene where a couple sat under the stars, and he was determined to give her exactly that.

The wildflowers kept sprawling all over each time Bumblebee tried to grab one, he didn’t bring a vase since he was scared of accidentally breaking one, so he decided with clumsy digits to open a soda can, yes..maybe that would do.. “Careful...”  Tipping the can towards his faceplate, he fussed over not being able to open it. Shaking it, hoping it would loosen, and when it seemed he had made it, it sprayed all over his faceplate, making him stumble over with a distressed beep. A wrong footing and there was a loud crunch. Bumblebee froze. Slowly looking down, he realized his foot had landed squarely on a package of cookies, reducing them to crumbs. “Dang it!” he buzzed through the radio, frustration laced with nervousness. He frantically crouched and scooped up the squished wrapper, already berating himself.

But Bumblebee wasn’t one to back down so easily. He straightened up, the crumpled pack of cookies still in his hand. Carefully, the bit tucked it back into the end of the basket, there were so many after all. Next, he picked up the empty soda can and went to toss it in the garbage bin, only for his gaze to land on a small empty glass jar you’d had left for recycling. That was perfect! It was risky managing glass, but it was his only choice. After arranging the wildflowers in the jar, he stepped back to admire his work. The bright blooms stood proudly in their makeshift vase; A triumphant beep escaped his radio.

However, waiting for you to get home from your job was the worst part. Bee leaned on the side of the blanket staring at the darkening sky, his pedes shifting restlessly against the ground as his optics traced the constellations beginning to shine above.

ᯓ★

The distant hum of the bus made Bumblebee buzz with anticipation as he scrambled quickly to double-check the lights and blanket one last time, his excitement nearly spilled over. Tonight was truly special, and he couldn’t wait to spend it with you, just the two of you, under the stars.

When you reached the garden, Bumblebee greeted you enthusiastically, using a series of radio clips to invite you, his favourite human, to sit down. “Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder” played softly from his speakers as he immediately handled the microwave, shaking its contents inside, beeping excitedly for you to open it.

A mixture of surprise painted your face “Aww Bee” You gently lowered down his servos so he couldn’t accidentally destroy your microwave and reached for him instead, your hands lightly cradling his side faceplate. His optics blinked rapidly in surprise, and his helm tilted curiously to the side as if trying to process your gesture. “This is..nice, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Thank you” For a moment, Bumblebee froze, his circuits whirring as if he’d been short-circuited by your words. His servos twitched at his sides, unsure whether to move or stay still. His radio crackled before settling on a slightly awkward but heartfelt clip. “You’re welcome my darling!!” Bumblebee immediately winced at his choice, but you only chuckled.

Your hands slipped away, and he missed the warmth almost instantly. You took a step back to take in everything he’d prepared, from the spread blanket, the slightly crumpled flowers, and the crookedly angled projector screen. You took a mental note to maybe teach him not to pluck bunches of flowers from your garden next time

“You went through all this… for me?” you asked, to which Bumblebee gave a small nod, his frame shifting nervously. His radio played hesitantly, “-It’s no big deal-” but the way he was fidgeting said otherwise.

“No,no ! it’s a huge deal,” Your smile grew as you crouched to fix the corner of the blanket. “Heck! You even got my favorite snacks.Look!” Maybe it was best not to ask him where the hell he took all of these goods, eyes lighting up when you spotted the assortment. “Bee, this is amazing. Seriously! After an exhausting day, this is all I need”

He melted at her reaction and his optics softened. Gathering his courage, he turned on the projector with a flick of his servo.  Soon, the screen lit up, casting a warm glow against the wall.

He beeped as if to ask “Shall we?”

Your grin widened. “We shall.”

Once you finally settled onto the blanket, patting the spot beside you Bumblebee carefully maneuvered himself, trying to sit without squishing anything else. He adjusted his position until he was beside you, his large frame curling slightly to fit in the cozy space. As the movie began to play, you leaned against him, resting your head against his cool plating. He was happy to start the first days of the new year with you like this.

“Next time, we’ll organize a date together”

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH | intro & playlist.

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught.... ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. chapter one will be posted right after this, this is just a little intro!

playlist: 1. fable, gigi perez 2. the gold, phoebe bridgers 3. your best american girl, mistki 4. love me not, ravyn lenae 5. sailor song, gigi perez 6. creep, radiohead 7. puppet, tyler the creator 8. girls, girl in red 9. good luck, babe!, chappell roan 10. never be like you, flume

you woke up every morning to the soft hum of the alarm on your phone, its subtle vibration rattling on your wooden nightstand. sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, painting streaks of gold across your small dorm room. you’d wake up, make your bed, and slither onto your desk chair to pray. that’s how all your dawns and dusks were spent, night and day, everything had to fall into a routine. 

your Bible sat on the corner of your desk, bookmarked and worn from countless mornings spent reading the same verses over and over, letting their memorized words settle into your heart like an old friend.

faith was the thread that tied your life together. it was in the way you prayed before meals, even in the bustling cafeteria where no one else bothered to bow their heads, or on the way to class, while people scrolled on their phones and listened to music. 

faith had been the only thing you could take refuge in. it was everywhere, it was even in your playlists, full of soft gospel tunes and acoustic worship songs. it was in how you spoke— gentle, careful, always trying to reflect the grace you believed in. but it wasn’t easy. not even a little bit. 

you had a quiet life, one defined by structure and conviction. classes, study groups, sunday services, and the occasional volunteer shift at the community center. you never complained, though. this was the life you wanted— or at least the one you believed you should have. being a good person, a good christian, meant staying on the narrow path, even when it felt like the world was pulling you in a dozen different directions.

and you felt like it was what shaped you, your thoughts, actions– everything. it felt good to have a modest mindset, always giving to others, being sweet and gentle-hearted, and it didn’t bother you that you hadn’t experienced everything that others had. you always focused on higher things, like your future, your well-being, and of course, your relationship with God. 

then there was emma. your best friend, your opposite in every conceivable way. emma was wild, free-spirited, and unafraid of anything or anyone. her laughter echoed down the hallways, loud and unfiltered, the kind that made people stop and turn and whisper to others around her, but she never cared. 

she was the type to dance on tables at parties, to flirt shamelessly with anyone she found remotely attractive, to live every second as if it were her last. she’d drag you along to all her adventures, insisting that you needed to "loosen up" and "have fun for once."

and sometimes you wanted to. sometimes, when you watched emma throw her head back in carefree laughter or saw the way she lit up a room without even trying, you felt the smallest pang of envy. you wanted to be like her, to let go of the weight you carried and just live. but every time you tried, something stopped you. a voice in the back of your mind, a knot in your stomach, the ever-present reminder of who you were supposed to be.

the struggle wasn’t just about faith, though. it was also about the questions you didn’t have answers to. questions about yourself, about your identity, about the things you felt but couldn’t bring yourself to say out loud. you’d grown up hearing that love was sacred, that it was meant to be between a man and a woman, that anything else was forbidden. but what about the nights when your thoughts wandered, when you felt things you couldn’t explain? what about the way your heart raced around certain people, the way your cheeks flushed at the slightest touch or glance?

it was a constant push and pull, a war within yourself that you couldn’t escape. you wanted to be true to your faith, to the values that had been instilled in you since you were a child. but you also wanted to understand yourself, to figure out what it meant to be you without the fear of judgment or condemnation. it felt impossible to reconcile the two, like you were being asked to choose between the life you’d always known and the freedom you secretly craved.

emma didn’t know. not about the questions, not about the doubts, not about the quiet nights spent crying into your pillow, begging god for clarity. she’d never understand. how could she? emma’s world was black and white, filled with sharp lines and bold colors, while yours was a sea of gray. she loved you, of course. she’d be the first to defend you against anyone who dared to say a bad word about you. but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. you couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone.

so you carried it alone. the weight of your faith, your doubts, your fears. you buried them beneath layers of prayer and routine, hoping that one day, the answers would come. but deep down, you weren’t sure if they ever would. and as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you was terrified of what those answers might be.

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[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

SKZ As Imaginary Friends| Angst Ver.| Changbin

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ A little girl. Plagued by cruel words likes swords. So she created an Imaginary friend who could understand. Even if it wasn't meant to be forever. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ Warnings: Suicide. Bullying. Body shaming. Pills. Paramedics. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Changbin had existed as long as he could remember.

His first memories of her were from when she was just a child, sitting on the playground alone while other kids ran past her without so much as a glance.

He had appeared one day, out of nowhere, his bright smile and playful laugh cutting through the loneliness like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Why are you all by yourself?” he had asked, tilting his head curiously.

“No one wants to play with me,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "They say I'm fat."

Changbin, didn't understand why that was a reason for someone to be discarded. But he didn't care. She seemed like a kind soul. A child who was loved deeply- yet didn't feel it.

There was in fact difference between knowing you were loved, and believing you were.

“That’s okay,” he said, sitting beside her. “I’ll play with you.”

From that day on, Changbin became her everything.

He was the friend who sat next to her in class when no one else would, the partner for games at recess when the other kids turned their backs, and the one who always told her she was worth more than the cruel words they hurled at her.

When she came home from school with tear-streaked cheeks and an ache in her chest, he was there to make her laugh, singing silly songs or telling ridiculous jokes until she couldn’t help but smile.

She needed him, and he was happy to be needed. It felt nice to be needed.

But as the years passed, Changbin began to understand the truth about himself.

He wasn’t like the kids at school, or the family members who filled her home with their noise and presence. He couldn’t touch the things she handed him, couldn’t leave the spaces she imagined him in. When he spoke his words only reached her ears.

He was bound to her mind, existing solely in the spaces she allowed. And though she didn’t always realize it, he knew- he wasn’t real.

At first, it didn’t bother him.

He loved her, in the way that only someone created for her could. His purpose was to be her anchor, her shield against a world that seemed determined to make her feel small and invisible.

He was good at it, too. When the kids at school called her names or whispered behind her back, he was the one who reminded her how special she was. When she cried in her room, muffling her sobs into her pillow so her parents wouldn’t hear, he was the one who wiped her those tears and told her it would be okay.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the world from hurting her.

Which made him wish more than ever he could be real. Because imaginary friends could only do so little to protect from the real enemies of the world.

By the time she reached high school, the bullying had only gotten worse. Changbin didn't understand how people could be so cruel- and for so long with no purpose.

The taunts were sharper, the laughter even louder, and the isolation more suffocating.

Changbin hated it. He hated the way they looked at her, the way they tore her down piece by piece without a second thought and with no remorse or reason.

He hated that he could do nothing but sit by and watch as her confidence was like a castle built on sand, crashing and crumbling beneath the weight of their words.

One night, after a particularly cruel day, she sat on her bed with her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes red and swollen from hours of crying.

Her parents weren't home, so she was alone yet again. Changbin was there, but it wasn't as if he was truly there.

He had heard her parents talk about it one night. They called it "seeing things". Maybe from extreme stress. They had pondered. They questioned what more could they do to help her. Could they change her schools?

They didn't know the things that were said online by here. And Changbin wished more than ever they could hear him.

He sat beside her, his chest tight with the kind of pain he couldn’t express.

“You’re amazing,” he told her softly. “You’re strong, and kind, and beautiful. Don’t let them make you forget that.”

She looked at him, her expression hollow. “Then why does it feel like they’re right?”

Changbin didn’t have an answer. He could only reach out, to take her hand in his, even though he knew she couldn’t feel it.

“You have me,” he said. “I'm made just for you. That’s got to count for something, right?”

For a moment, a ghost of a smile crossed her face. “It counts for everything.”

But even that wasn’t enough.

He saw it happening slowly, like a flame dwindling to embers.

She stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped responding to his questions.

She’d sit in her room for hours, staring at the walls, her thoughts too heavy to share. He tried everything to reach her, to pull her back from the edge, but nothing worked. He could feel her slipping away, and it terrified him.

“Talk to me,” he begged one night, kneeling in front of her as she sat motionless on her bed. “Please, just say something. Let me help you.”

"You're not real. What could you possibly do?"

Changbin looked at her, worry clouding him.

"I'm your friend."

She didn’t even blink.

The next morning, her parents found her. The empty pill bottle on her nightstand, the note on her desk. The house erupted in chaos- her mother’s screams, her father’s frantic calls for help.

Changbin stood in the corner, watching it all unfold, his heart shattering into a million pieces.

He had never felt alone with her, but now he understood.

No one could see or feel his pain. He couldn't share it because he wasn't real.

His existence wasn't acknowledgeable.

He stayed with her, hugging her as the paramedics arrived, as they tried and failed to revive her.

He stayed as her parents crumpled to the floor, holding each other as their world collapsed around them.

He stayed even as he felt himself begin to fade, his existence tied to the mind that had created him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. As they lay a sheet over her.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

And then he was gone.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ My first shot at an unhappy ending :0. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

@rockstarkkami

[yunazxxx]

gp daniela x manon 🙏⁉️

pairing ≫ meret manon x daniela avanzini

content warnings ≫ best friends to lovers trope , g!p daniela , unprotected sex , slight getting caught , manon has a situationship but hes hella irrelevant.. , drug usage (marijuana) ,, etc maybe??

word count ≫ 2.7k

author talks ≫ happy new years my lovessss !!! i would love to start off this year strong with this danon fic which i hope you all + my lovely anon here who requested it, will enjoy it. and yeah, enjoy the read !! — ps not very proofread so ntm.. — this has hella fillers that probably arent relevant but i dont care…

—

"he still hasn't responded" the brunette repeated for the sixth time within the last three hours, she was over at daniela's place for the month as they usually would just come live with one another. there were no issues with manon's current living situation, she just wanted to go over dani's for a while.

daniela sighed while she was tying her hair up, "put the phone down girl" and manon looked up at her, "come on, then he'll text once that happens" and daniela just looked at the brunette, "come onnn, at least have some fun."

and manon shut off her phone, putting her hands up, "phone's off" and daniela took her hand, "you won't be needing it today" and she slid the older's phone in her purse. she walked with her out of the room, leaving out to the garage to her car.

daniela had plans set with her friend, they actually had been together for a while but they failed to execute because of manon's boyfriend, or more so situationship/boytoy. daniela really had a distaste for him, he was, really fucking weird.. daniela couldn't figure out why though.

the more time daniela spent with manon and this guy, she began to think that maybe he wasn’t the only problem. this dawned on her when she would see them kiss or be affectionate towards each other, it made her sick to the stomach.

sometimes when she would be drunk at a club, or bar, with manon and the guy she’d be all over manon kissing her, and even when manon would be the one to initiate the kiss, daniela would pull the doler by her waist and grab at her.

it was then and there daniela realized she had feelings for her, but obviously she’d just have to play it off, never knowing how to exactly say it to the brunette.

after daniela started her car, she began blasting a random playlist she had been on for a while, a song coming on called “better than the boys” which she just let it play and acted like it wasn’t there for a obvious reason.

while the pair drove along the highway, daniela was speeding, literally fast enough that it could get her a ticket or in a accident but almost no one was out right now because it was business hours. the pair were making thier wway to this meet up thing that they were invited to an outing with their friend group.

while daniela drove down the empty roads, the windows were down while they blasted music. manon practically hung out the window while they sung along to this song, but as they reached their destination, she went back in.

daniela parked her car and manon got out, daniela sat inside and turned off the car, turning around and seeing her friend making funny faces in the car window. daniela laughed while she opened the door and got out, her and manon walked to the building together.

they walked inside and were imidiately met with their friends hugging them, it had been months since they last met up so finally having this time to just, have a breather out meant the world to them. they were at the mall, pretty much just shopping at random stores and joking with one another, as they usually do.

they went into a jewlery store, since they made customs and daniela and manon wanted to get somethng for one another. the group split into twos, daniela had a few of their friends with her while manon did too.

everyone had their own little job, but soon the girls got distracted and kind of forgot what they were supposed to be doing but daniela and manon were able to make the jewlery they knew the other would like, or more so love.

manon had purchased daniela a necklace with both of their initals and a heart between them, and even had a handwritten note for the blonde, while daniela also made manon a necklace with a special charm and had got her some extra things.

it was a new years tradition for their friend group, it worked like secret santa really, they'd be given paper inside of a box or bowl, even a hat with their names on it, and kinda similar to last year, they got each other.

after the mall trip, they headed to the second oldest in their friend groups house, sophia's. they all gathered in the living room and revealed who they had, they had the most random order, going from first letter in their last names.

daniela walked over to manon, giving her the bag and turning to go sit back in her seat, but manon pulled her shirt and handed her the bag, and winked at her. daniela went to sit, yoonchae stood up giving lara a heavy, ass box, which lara almost dropped.

"what the heck is in here?" lara asked, "oh my god" you could hear someone exclaimed, yoonchae giggled going back to her seat, sophia walked over to megan giving her another heavy ass box — which the ginger just laughed at but setting it on her lap.

lara put the box beside her, standing up and giving three different little boxes to sophia, confusing the black haired woman, and finally megan handed yoonchae a small, box? which she just kept smiling reallly big about.

daniela opened her bag first, seeing the necklace and screaming out of joy, running over to hug the brunette while also prompting her to open hers but manon shook her head, "there's more in yours" and daniela opened it more, and saw the paper, and read it almost tearing up, she looked at manon, "i'm gonna get you later"

making the group burst into laughter, "lets hurry it up we got stuff to do after thiss!!!" sophia yelled, and so all the girls opened their gifts, but yoonchae because megan told her to wait, that very heavy ass box that lara got from yoonchae not only had legos but also other things she wanted and had been talking about for months.

the other gifts were pretty much the same for the other girls, the tiny box yoonchae had still confused her, even asking megan "what could fit in here?" and when she opened it, it was a pair of keys which she just looked at megan, and they went outside together and thats when you could hear yoonchae scream.

the younger girl ran inside of the house, she looked so energetic. megan came back in, laughing her heart out but the two girls soon explained why she was reacting like that, it was pretty much after this were all the girls had a random energy burst and they were all playing around and just enjoying quality time.

daniela and manon broke off from the other girls, going upstairs together because they needed to "refresh" themselves, which was really just code for they needed to smoke. they were inside of sophia's room, and cracked a window, daniela pulled something from her jacket pocket, a blunt, handing it to manon.

since the brunette was sitting closest to the window, she took the first pull of it, daniela just watching her in awe. "why are you looking at me like that?" the brunette asked, "ah, um.. nothing" daniela softly whispered when manon passed her the blunt.

daniela took her pull, but moved closer to manon, grabbing her face and blowing the smoke in her mouth, after doing this daniela pulled her into a kiss, which manon responded to. but this kiss wasn't a small peck, or just a few seconds, the kiss grew deeper overtime and so did the need for each other.

manon broke off the kiss, looking into daniela's hooded eyes, and sheeh chuckeled, "that was crazy" she said before taliking another pull of the blunt, daniela licked her lips, looking at manon. "could we do something more, fun?" manon looked at the blonde, taking another pull of it before putting it out, "what's on your mind?"

daniela smiled before taking manon's hand and tackling her to the bed, she held the older's wrist together, using one of her hands while the other cupped manon's cheek while she kissed her, daniela's knee resting between manon's leg.

daniela's kisses quikly made manon feel enchated, like she was stuck under a spell by her friend. manon whined into the kiss, causing daniela to break it, "ah ah ah, stay quiet" and she kissed down the older's neck.

she left hickeys, even a special heart one where daniela loves to kiss her sometimes. the older woman tried moving her hands but failed, her body reacting to daniela's movements almost like she was perfectly made for daniela's touch.

manon whimpered and whined, almost getting loud enough that could bring someone to the room, which happened. a knock came at the door, since it was locked, "manon? are you okay?" you could hear sophia asking, and daniela didn't stop so manon could reply, she instead kept moving down.

she slowly removed pieces of manon's clothing, "a- yeah, i'm good soph" manon was able to get out before quietly moaning daniea's name, you could slight uncertainty in the black haired woman's voice when she replied, "okay .... uh is dani in there?"

daniela, again didn't reply nor stop, she made her way back up to manon's exposed chest, that's only covered by her bra, and she started back kissing, mumbling against her soft brown skin, "you're so perfect" she trailed her free hand up manon's thigh, caressing her.

"f-fu-ck, y-yeah, she's in here" manon got out between choked moans, "can i come in and grab my phone?" sophia asked and daniela got up, throwing her own hoodie on to hide her already messy hair, grabbing the filipino woman's phone and bringing it to her.

daniela opened the door sightly, only enough space so she could snake her arm out and give her the phone, sophia looked at daniela's eyes and noticed the redness while also smelling the marijuana.

"did you two smoke in my room?? oh my god" sophia asked while looking at daniela, "only a little! don't worry, we got the windo open and we'll spray it so it can go away" and sophia nodded, "come down soon, we'll be at the movies, just text when you're ready."

"mhm, byebye now" daniela said, shutting and locking the door, she turned around and saw manon's was squeezing her thighs together, biting her lip while her beautiful eyes were looking at her, you could hear a low "please" come from the brunette.

daniela walked over to her, “we have an hour at most so i'm gonna play with you a bit" daniela said while she pulled manon's panties down, she kissed her inner thighs while slowly inching closer to her aching heat.

"need you so bad" manon mumbled, "what was that?" daniela asked, she heard her the first time, she just wanted her louder. "i-i.." manon could barely get out feelin daniela's finger sliding deeper inside of her.

"uh huh?" daniela looked her inside of her brown eyes, watching them grow with need. daniela curled her fingers, pushing them in and out at a slow pace, manon's hips bucked, which made daniela chuckle, "so needy, aren't you" manon just nodded, making daniela stop.

"you were asked a question baby" daniela kissed her clit, before gently sucking on it, "w-wait.. dani" manon said, but daniela continued, pushing her fingers deep inside the brunette, "fuck fuck fuck fuck" manon moaned out, dani only sped up, loving how manon sounded.

daniela continued this same process until manon came, the brunette's thghs claming shut around daniela's face, the blonde forced them back opened and continued eating manon out, making the older grab at her hair.

daniela sighed against manon's clit, making the older shiver, and daniela finally broke off. she finally payed attention to the erection of hers, but manon had already pushed her on the bed, getting down to her knees.

she fondled with he drawstring for a bit, before just reaching her hands in and pulling daniela's dick from her boxers, watching the way her eyes filled with excitement, all the lust very evident.

she slowly stroked th blonde's cock, she glided her hand along the full length, stopping at her tip each time to caress it. soon she leaned down, staring slow, she took her tip in her mouth, with slow licks and small sucks soon turned to her taking more of her cock in her mouth, fully swallowing around dani.

she only broke off for some air, an adorable line of spit connected daniela's pink tip to her lips. she was only off for a few seconds, before trying to deep throat her again, the brunette drooling all over her cock, she held her head down, allowing her groans to finally spill out.

she let daniela use her throat, and while she thrusted into manon's mouth she could feel her tongue sliding along her entire length. she started to moan around it, bringing much more vibrations and pushing dani closer to her orgasm.

she sped her hips up, the girl held her mouth open, allowing daniela to have free access. soon she came down her throat, groans and small whimpers spilling from her.

daniela pulled out, wiping the access cum that dripped down her lips. she picked manon up, and put her back under, this time slowly slipping herself inside of the brunette.

she started off slow, easing her cock inside of her cunt, the girl felt like she was being torn in half. "tell me when to stop" the blonde gritted out, it was hard to penetrate the girl without the fear of hurting her by accident.

soon she tapped her, saying it was too much so she stopped, she was only an inch from being completely inside of the girl. she lifted her thighs, the bulge of her dick being seen through the older’s abdomen.

she couldn't help but find it adorable, and soon she began to thrust slowly, dragging her cock out of her just to slowly push it back in, this rhythm drove the girl insane, she wanted more but fuck she was so full. she was stretching her out so well but she was also able to reach her cervix, the girl completely lost it.

her once low moans turned louder, they filled the room, the lewd words that would spill from her throat all bounced off the four walls. daniela soon grew tired of this, slow ass pace.

so she forced manon’s thighs open again, and she fucked into the girl at an insanely fast pace. she held her hips as she pistoned into her, her walls clenched around her m way tighter than she'd expected, her orgasm catching up to her faster than she thought too. manon would bucked her hips each time daniela’s hips would meet hers.

soon her thrusts became sloppier, her moans picked up, while daniela’s did also, soon they came together. she continued to slowly thrust inside of the older, dragging the orgasm out much more, her load painting the girl's womb white with her seed, and she soon pulled out, her load leaking down onto the bed sheets.

daniela stood up, going to get something to clean manon up, but once her hair touched her back she could feel a sting, checking in the mirror and seeing that manon had scratched her back, it wasn't like she cared, she found it cute.

soon she returned with the warm towel and cleaned manon up and kissed her, she gently slipped manon back into her clothes and held her hand while they walked downstair only to see lara and sophia standing their with their mouths wide open.

"in my ROOM????" sophia yelled at them and went off on them about how they could've picked ANY other vacant room in her house but they chose her room, lara didn't even know how to react, just there frozen.

[elf-kid2]

I assume that the "passing his knowledge" to the legions meant sharing prophecies, especially those with relevance to military strategy.

If that was the case, I'm thinking that the version of the *"You Will Be Okay"* song/prophecy that the Legions got was probably something along the lines of "In the event of possibly world-ending and/or world-changing catastrophe, Stick With Her [Princess Octavia]; You'll Be On The Winning Side!"

Which COULD be an issue if Marquise Andrealphus keeps trying to usurp her power!

Hell's 'best' educated legions

for a given value of 'educated'

Who's betting Stolas' standing army all have decent literacy, know the difference between frogs and toads, basic plant care.

And well not alot about fighting anyone, as Stolas is a bit of pacifist.

He'll fight for his kid, use violence as a last resort to try and get away from Striker.

But most times he stops people without hurting them.