#i want them to explode in a thousand bits

[misaerabl]

MUTED 𝝑𝑒 - masterlist

✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ gamer&commentary creator!e x influencer!u (enemies to lovers) SUMMARY : wc... ? ˙⋆✮˙ A lifestyle creator with a flawless feed. A reaction channel with a talent for starting drama. Your world is all soft lighting and subtle shade—Ellie Williams is loud edits, louder opinions, and a fanbase that lives for her chaos. You and Ellie were never supposed to cross paths. But one reaction stream, one too-perfect subtweet, and the internet writes its own narrative: a rivalry they can’t get enough of. You’re curated. She’s unfiltered. You go viral for routines. She goes viral for ruining them. It should’ve ended online—but now you’re stuck sharing a cabin, sharing space, sharing tension that won’t stay hidden behind screens. Ellie is frustrating. Fame is relentless. And somewhere between stolen glances and snarky remarks, the line between content and connection starts to blur. Because when everything is made to be watched, the most dangerous thing you can do is feel.

˙⋆✮ READ THE REST ON AO3!

PROLOGUE -- "not sorry"

ellie.exe is live...

The screen is dimly lit in cool purples and flickering LED strips. A soft lo-fi playlist hums beneath the click-clack of keys and the occasional irritated—

“Dude, seriously?”

Ellie, tucked into a hoodie and headset, squints at her monitor, brows furrowed in the way that makes her fans screenshot the stream and tweet things like “she’s so baby when she’s mad”.

She's midway through a stream of some hyper-buggy online multiplayer game her chat begged her to play. She’s not good at it. She’s not pretending to be good at it.

Which is, naturally, why thousands are watching.

“Okay, there is no way that hit me. Roll back the tape. That’s cheating. That’s hacking, actually. I’m reporting him.”

The chat explodes:

lmaoo classic ellie L NOOB.exe pls check out @/reader’s new vid tho omg 😭 she’d beat this game faster than u lmao grwm girl supremacy!!!

Ellie groans, tossing her controller onto her lap and reaching for the watered-down iced coffee she’s been sipping since the stream started. The condensation leaves a faint ring on her desk.

“Okay, okay—pause. I need hydration and emotional support.”

Sip. Grimace. Another sip.

“Wait, who are you all yelling about?”

The chat floods with one name: your username, a wave of heart emojis, thirst comments, and “SHIP??” spam.

“Reader?” Ellie squints at the screen. “The GRWM chick? Seriously?”

A few more keystrokes, a few clicks.

“Okay, I mean… sure. Gotta give the fans what they want.”

The game feed shrinks into the corner. A new window opens on her overlay—your latest video.

GRWM: Night Out Routine (Even If You Cancel Last Minute) 💄🍷

The video fades in. You’re cross-legged on your bed, silky robe slung off one shoulder, hair twisted up with a claw clip, all soft lighting and softer skin. You’re smiling at the camera, walking through a lineup of glassy skincare bottles like it’s second nature.

Ellie leans forward slightly. Just a bit.

“She’s giving Vogue cover, but also… does she even sweat?”

Chat starts twitching:

UR EYES R TOO WIDE STAND UP she plugs her sephora code every 3 minutes she’s got you in a chokehold already babe 😭

“Like, does her skincare budget exceed my rent?”

She pauses—lets the silence sit there a second.

“I’m not judging—I’m just confused. Does she live at Sephora?”

The chat absolutely loses it.

no bc the tension already you’re just in love just say it someone ship name this rn you guys are delusional. ellie hates people like her

Ellie lifts her hands in mock surrender.

“Chat, I’m not a hater—I’m just a broke, bitter lesbian. Calm down.”

She smirks. Just a little. The kind that makes her left cheek dimple slightly, which only makes her chat explode even more.

nah she’s BLUSHING for real

She minimizes the window. Boots her game back up.

“Anyway. I’m going back to getting absolutely smoked in this trash server. Thanks for the detour, creeps.”

But it’s already too late.

The screen recordings are circulating. TikToks are multiplying like bacteria in petri dishes. The fan edits are being born—dramatic music, soft fades, your skincare and her flustered commentary spliced together.

Meanwhile, on your end. Your phone buzzes with a flurry of DMs. Some from fans. Some from mutuals. All of them saying the same thing:

“girl... ellie.exe just reviewed your grwm and i’m SOBBING” “you gonna let her talk to you like that or...?” “you got her blushing on camera 😭”

You scroll. You find the clip. You raise a brow.

Fuck this girl. Fuck her.

You stare at your screen for a bit before hitting post on the tweet.

you @/yourhandle ✨ skincare hits different when your lighting source isn’t a 3am Twitch stream 😘

Your mentions explode. The war has begun.

You swipe through your mentions, catching glimpses of your own face edited onto Mortal Kombat fighters, people tagging Ellie and begging her to respond. You tell yourself you’re over it. That you’ve said what you needed to say. That she doesn’t matter.

And then someone DMs you again.

“uhhhh did you see her tweet 💀”

You open Twitter.

ellie @/ellie.exe some ppl act brand new just because the sun hits them once and they didn’t burst into flames. proud of you 😇

You blink. Read it again. Your jaw actually drops.

That smug, passive-aggressive, “not-a-reply-but-yes-it-is” tone practically has her signature all over it. She didn’t tag you. She didn’t have to. It’s as good as a shot fired.

Like she didn’t start this by coming for your routine with her crusty gamer hands and talking about you like you were a mall display instead of a person?

Oh, hell no.

You set your phone down. Pick it back up. Type. Delete. Type again. Your jaw clenches as you pace your room, bare feet dragging across a fluffy rug as the late afternoon sun pours across your floor—the same one she saw in your video. The one she smirked at like it offended her personally.

You finally hit post.

you @/yourhandle ✨ no hate to the gamers but if your selfcare knowledge is based on your reflection in a loading screen… maybe hush 😘

You don’t even wait to see the fallout this time. You toss your phone onto your bed like it burned you and go to pour yourself something strong and unnecessary.

By the time you come back, Twitter’s already turned your quote tweet into a meme. Your face on a skincare ad. Ellie’s on a GameStop receipt. Someone edited a fake YouTube thumbnail:

“GRWM to fight a gamer lesbian (gone wrong) (emotional)”

You try to laugh, but it comes out tight.

Your blood is hot. Not quite angry, not quite amused. It’s something in between. Something irritating and unfamiliar. Something that smells like obsession.

comments: “they’re gonna make out or kill each other, no in between.” “this is the weirdest foreplay i’ve ever witnessed and i’m here for it” “ellie.exe called her sensitive and now she’s dismantling her entire existence 💅”

You actually exhale a disbelieving, “Oh my God,” into your empty room.

She’s insufferable. Infuriating. Smug. And you hate—hate—the way her face lingered in your head after watching her watch you.

You were supposed to win this. You were supposed to make her shut up. So You make her... By Clicking the block button.

KEEP UP! KEEP UP!

prologue... (you are here!) - "blocked. not sorry" part 1. - "fuck the algorithm" part 2. - "room for conflict" part 3. - "for the record" part 4. - ??? + more!!! (next parts will be posted daily! see you tomorrow!, please comment to be added to the taglist!)

[johnegbertdotcom]

Famous!Reader x hamzah

A/n: boi 1st time writing... don't judge I thought of this idea higher then a hoe okay

Warnings: just two cute ahh bihs who really really want eachother

Hamzah almost couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Almost.

You had posted a very passionate rant on tiktok, gushing about how much you love slushy noobz and how you could only dream of collabing with them.

The fact that you even knew about him and Martin—let alone appreciated their humor—shook him. He had always imagined you as the type to be elegant, sophisticated, maybe even too mature for the kind of chaotic energy he and Martin had thrived on. But realizing that you shared their sense of humor? That you actually found them funny? That just made his crush on you grow by tenfold.

But hamzah wasn't the only one nursing what was thought to be a "one-sided" crush.

You had been interested in Slushy Noobz—especially Hamzah—for what felt like forever. Your crush had been planted quietly in the background around the same time your career had exploded. It felt almost symbolic, the way both your stardom and this giddy infatuation grew almost side by side. You’d landed a few small roles in indie films, and then—seemingly overnight—one of those films blew up. Suddenly, you weren’t just “up and coming", you were practically everywhere.

You became the definition of “everyone wants to be her.” Despite that, you never let the fame go to your head. You stayed grounded, still posting regularly on your YouTube channel, sharing vlogs, behind-the-scenes moments, and your genuine self with fans. That relatability only made Hamzah fall harder.

With shaking fingers, a pounding heart, and a confidence that hamzah didn't even know we had in him, typed out a DM on Instagram:

"collab?"

He immediately threw his phone onto his bed like it had caught fire. Adrenaline shot through his body as he replayed everything in his head a thousand times.

Around thirty minutes later, you responded.

You were losing it. Hamzah had messaged you. THE Hamzah?? (Of course he did, do you even know who you are?)

You replied almost immediately:

“Are you serious?? If you are, when, where, and with who???”

Hamzah stared at your reply like it was a hallucination. He reread it five times, heart hammering in his chest. You were excited. You wanted this. He immediately screenshot it and sent it to Martin with the caption:

“BRO SHE SAID YES.”

Martin replied in all caps, “SHUT UP?!?!” followed by a dozen skull emojis and a GIF of someone passing out dramatically.

Meanwhile, Hamzah was trying to compose the most casual-sounding response in the world… while internally spiraling.

“Yea lol I’m serious. Could do something chill for YouTube first, or if you’re down, maybe something for both our channels?”

Sent. Again, the phone got tossed.

You, on the other hand, had your phone clutched in both hands, laying flat on your bed, staring at the screen with a face-splitting grin. You were texting your best friend at rapid speed:

“I think I’m gonna die. Hamzah just asked me to collab?? Like… we’re actually gonna film together??”

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes, laying out a plan. You agreed on something fun and interesting for your channels—something low-pressure, maybe a challenge or Q&A style video that would let your natural chemistry show. You settled on flying out to Canada and meeting up with Hamzah there in around two weeks.

The day of the collab came fast. Too fast.

You walked into the studio with your usual positive aura, your makeup was soft and glowy, and your hair looked effortlessly beautiful (even though it definitely had taken quitea bit of effort), and then you saw him.

Hamzah was leaning against the counter in a hoodie, his signature grin in place, but his eyes widened just slightly when he saw you. You both just… froze for a second. It wasn’t awkward, more like a quiet shock that this was actually real now.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you said first, trying to break the ice.

He laughed. “You’re exactly as cool as I thought.”

That made you blush—just slightly, but enough that Hamzah noticed.

The collab started off smooth. You filmed a “Who Knows Me Better” game—Martin had joined via FaceTime and was yelling answers from his kitchen. There was laughter, chaotic yelling, inside jokes forming on the spot, and more than a few lingering glances that both of your fans would definitely pick up on.

After filming, you two sat on the couch while the cameras were off, finishing your drinks and scrolling through the footage.

“This was fun,” Hamzah said, glancing over at you. “Way more fun than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, high praise.”

“No, I mean…” He trailed off, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I just didn’t expect it to feel this easy. Being around you.”

You looked at him, your heart thudding louder than it should. “Same. I thought I’d be more nervous.”

He smiled at that—soft, boyish, kind of shy. “So… should we do this again sometime?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is it a collab… or a date?”

Hamzah froze for a beat, stunned, then grinned like an idiot.

“Both?”

You laughed. “Deal.”

---

[fairy-spring]

The new fandom discourse has certainly been, uh… interesting.

“All LU fans are the worst and can’t read! I hate how they dominate the fandom!”

“I hate Zelda fans who say we HAVE to play the games to enjoy fandom! They’re elitist gatekeepers who probably don’t even think BotW’s a real Zelda game!”

There are things about these blorbos that can really only be gleamed from an authentic playthrough, or at the very least watching someone else play it. Screenshots and headcanon and hearsay can only go so far, and it’s a very big reason why a chunk of the fandom (myself included) recommends doing a bit of research.

It’s not elitism, and it’s not gatekeeping. I literally just want y’all to enhance your experience with the fandom by having a greater understanding of the source material.

Engaging with the Zelda fandom solely through LU is, in my eyes, like engaging with Star Trek solely through the newer movies that came out.

Are you able to understand it by itself?

Sure.

Is there a lot of context that’s missing because they’re trying to call back these things that happened in the original series and you don’t understand why everyone cares so much about Khan and these dialogue parallels but something something it happened in the old one so???????

Yeah, it’s gonna be like that, too.

Honestly I can’t even say too much about LU fans not knowing stuff about the games, because I can’t even trust the Zelda fandom IN GENERAL to actually read anything that’s happening in them either.

A good chunk of the fandom honestly takes what “elder authorities” say on it at face value. I don’t think I need to repeat the whole incident I went through last year involving a certain someone and her thesis essay on Twilight Princess full of things that flat-out did not fucking happen.

Yet, hundreds, if not thousands of guests on tumblr have seen that essay, and they take it as the big “holy shit tp was so dark” essay instead of sitting down and actually thinking about the words that were written.

But I digress.

Yeah, LU has dominated most of the fandom. Arguably the reason why we have so many linksmeetau’s is because of how much Linked Universe exploded.

Do I like it?

No.

Do I understand all the LU x Reader stuff I see everywhere or all the fanon that was made just for this AU?

Not even a little.

Does that mean I should dunk on people who do?

Absolutely not!

I of all people am in no position to talk when it comes to weird fandom things. I ship Link with an OC. My literal favorite one is FIRST HERO. Who ain’t even CANON. Everything I have for him is SHIT I MADE UP!!

But ya know what?

I still know how to fucking READ!!!!!

You know what? Fuck it, I’m taking everything back.

I AM gatekeeping!

NOBODY’S allowed to touch the Zelda fandom until they learn some god damn READING COMPREHENSION!!

I’m kidding, of course.

But seriously like. Learn your fandom.

Linked Universe isn’t the source of every headcanon ever, and Linked Universe didn’t kill your grandma, okay?

You don’t have to be freaks like me and my husband, who pore over every in-game and meta detail for the sake of an AU. But I strongly encourage everyone to watch a playthrough of other Zelda games. And if you can play them, that’s even better!

Also like.

The headcanon of ALttP Link and Zelda being siblings doesn’t belong to Linked Universe. That’s a general fandom headcanon.

Just thought I’d clear that up.

[sam-sessington-the-third]

fullfilling my saimatsu dreams by drawing them kissing and hugging and happy because i love them sm and chapter 1 never hapened right

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Clicking on a M.oshi Monsters iceberg video that I didn't care much for but decided to click on the person's channel to see if they uploaded a video afterwards cause at the end of the video they jokingly said "100 likes and I'll buy my weight in merch" and haha that's funny, just to see five days ago they posted a teaser about whether M.oshi Monsters was up to something or not because apperently they released Moshi Play on the app store(which as far as I'm aware is just the same minigames in Moshi Sleep) and got a Tiktok account that they started putting videos on and rereleased the music Rox album on their socials and are making a bunch of teasing comment replies about being up to making something wasnt. I wasnt ready for that. Where did that come from. Hm. They. They even commented on said video taht i just watched. Which was released like five days ago and only has like 500 views.

[tbob-enthusiast]

why are they like this why are they like this

This was supposed to be a goofy one off 3 panel comic not. Something with effort.

Many mistakes are about to be made

he does not remember a THING.

Also bonus of Robbie with bed hair and the shirt he passed out in

The shirt is based on my dad's RAGGEDY ASS mountain dew shirt he's had since I was born. It's so old he can't wear it anymore

Also messy hair robbie. The curls are threatening to return/silly

@tbob-enthusiast @jayxel1102 ehehhehe

[schluttforschlatt]

This Kitty Off the Chain (NSFW)

I haven't written smut in YEARSSSSSS but i wanted to give u a lil treat <3 <3 <3

✴︎MINORS DO NOT INTERACT✴︎

wc: 3.5k

warnings: fem!reader, language, smut (obviously) -munch!schlatt, fingering, tiny bit of size k!nk

You thought about the price of the room the elevator ride up to it. Four thousand dollars. You made a mental list of things that would change your life for that price. Down payment on a car. Brand new PC tower and fixtures. Rent for the next three months. Hell, a trip to the doctors office for that back pain you’ve had for years. And yet, that was how much one singular night’s stay in this particular room cost. You watched as the elevator doors opened, and followed behind the two taller men you were with.

The younger of the two lead the way, explaining the amenities and trying to reason with the price. Trevor, the slightly older of the two, had a video camera at the ready and was nodding as the first man, Schlatt, stopped in front of the door to the room and swiped a card.

“You two are about to feel so fucking poor.” He joked, pushing the door open and inviting you and Trevor inside.

You weren't quite sure why Schlatt had invited you on this trip with him, but you prayed that by the time your visit was over, you’d have an answer.

For the past few months, the two of you had been growing closer as friends. It started with him asking for help editing clips from a trucking sim stream to create shorts. He wanted outside eyes to pick the best moments without the bias of what he considered funny, so you made the drive to his place and let him teach you the basics of his editing software. You’d bantered back and forth with each other while splicing scenes together to make clips. Schlatt had filmed a handful of video intros while you edited, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him anytime he turned his persona on. It’s kinda hot, you thought, watching a man who always spoke politely and softly to you one-on-one flip a switch and become a loud and boisterous asshole.

You would shiver anytime he stood behind you, hands on the back of the chair you were in as he checked to see your progress. You swore to yourself, vowing to push any feelings down and away, and not let them interfere with your growing friendship.

Enjoying the work you had done, Schlatt invited you back several more times to edit more shorts for his channels. You thoroughly liked spending time with him like this, parallel playing in comfortable silence. Occasionally, he would put his hands on your shoulders and squeeze as if giving a shoulder massage or gentle pat on the back, which was always unexpected but never not appreciated.

The editing and clipping lead to him asking you to help with filming, going over the basics of camera operation and teaching you how to get his good side. Filming lead to you helping him out with various projects, having gained enough trust from him to voice ideas and opinions that you thought would improve the project or make it flop. Often he would place a gentle hand on the small of your back while walking around a location with you, leaning down close to your face to better hear you. It would make your heart race anytime you felt his breath close to your cheek, and anytime a hand ghosted over your hip you thought you would explode.

Pretty soon after, you had become his shadow, following Schlatt everywhere he went, and with time, you noticed more confident and intentional touches from Schlatt. He’d wrap an arm around your shoulder while watching a movie on his couch or reach out to hold your hand while walking. Every touch felt electric, and every time you hung out you felt tension grow.

The moment that had changed everything for you was during a trip to the grocery store. Schlatt had asked you to accompany him and help pick out ingredients for meal prepping. You had taken a few nutrition and health classes and he thought you’d be able to help him put together healthy meals. You joked with him the ride there about his tendency to latch onto junk food, and decided to be a little bold and make a comment about semen.

“I bet your cum tastes like battery acid,” your statement caught him and yourself off guard. He scoffed and glanced over at you, taking his right hand off the steering wheel. “You eat like shit, you need to eat some pineapple or something.” His hand came to rest on your left knee as you finished your sentence, electricity shooting through your body. He gave a devious smirk to you.

“Oh?” He says pulling into the parking lot. He removes his hand to put the car in park, but then places it back on your leg, this time on your thigh, inching closer to your core. “Well, I bet you taste pretty sweet.” Your eyes were wide as saucers as a blush washed over your face. You shifted your gaze to your hands placed in your lap. Schlatt lifted the hand resting on your thigh before bringing it back down with a soft slap. The sensation shocked you and made you jump, but at the same time turned you on just a tiiiiiiny bit.

“C’mon, I wanna get this over with as fast as possible.”

That was two weeks ago, and since then the teasing only grew more and more common.

You watched as Schlatt set his bags down by the hotel’s door, snapping back to reality.

As Schlatt turned various lights on you couldn’t help but stare at everything in awe. The entry area was huge, with a large table and chairs, and you were envious at how spacious it was. You ran a finger along the hardwood as you followed your friends further into the suite, eyes darting between the expensive looking art on the walls and the wall-mounted television displaying a slideshow of the hotel’s garden.

“Holy shit, look at this bed,” you heard Schlatt call out, turning your attention towards him. He sat down on the edge and bounced a few times, laughing. “Shits not even against the wall and barely squeaks.” He continues laughing as he stands up and beckons Trevor to follow him into the closet and bathroom behind the false wall.

You stayed behind, feet planted in the bedroom and mind racing with naughty thoughts.

“Maybe tonight’s the night.” You mumbled to yourself, shaking your head to rid of the impure images stirring up.

Your small group finished your self guided tour around the room, and Trevor and Schlatt began setting up to film. You separated yourself from the boys, deciding to settle down on one of the soft couches and give your legs a break.

You watched Trevor follow Schlatt around, zooming in on various features that only a rich asshole would think to have. Who the fuck needs a flashlight in a closet? Fucking yuppies.

The filming concluded with the boys clinking together cans of beer, showing off the view from the balcony. You had excused yourself to the hall to make a phone call, checking in with your best friend to let them know you safely made it to the hotel. You knocked on the door, hoping one of the boys would hear you, only to be surprised that Trevor had opened it, his bags in hand.

“Oh! Are you not staying with us? I thought Jay said the three of us would share the room.” You stared up at him with a quizzical look, confused about this deviation from the plan you were informed of. Trevor gave you a sheepish grin, motioning for you to enter the room.

“Nah, I’m staying down the street,” you switch spots with him, you now holding the door open for the man. “Try not to have too much fun. We’ve got an early day with the boys tomorrow.” Trevor winked at you before walking down the hall to the elevator. You let the door shut behind you as you made your way back over to the couch you previously occupied. Schlatt was now sitting there, one leg resting on the table in front of it, phone pulled close to his face as he typed away. You cleared your throat and plopped down next to him.

“Why’d Trevor leave?” You asked him, plopping yourself down next to the man. He looked up from his phone to smile at you, locking the device and setting it on the arm of the couch.

“Oh, he didn’t wanna share a room. Somethin’ ‘bout missin’ his girl, probably gonna jack off on FaceTime with ‘er.” You laughed, a little caught off guard by his response, but also a little distracted by the arm that had come up around your shoulders. The touch made you shiver.

“‘Ya wanna watch a movie or somethin’ doll?” Jay asks. You nod and he brings the remote up, scanning through the channels. The nickname caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stick up. Pet names had been new between you two, and every time he used one, you had to fight the urge to climb onto his lap and shove your tongue down his throat. You crossed one leg over the other and squeezed them tight together, an attempt at self control.

He settles on some shitty 90’s action flick that doesn’t hold your attention. Maybe this was intentional, you thought, pressing yourself closer into his side. You don’t notice the way his breath hitches in his throat at your movement, but you do notice when the arm around your shoulders slinks down, hand now gently resting at your hip. You try to focus on the film playing out, but the tension between you and the man next to you is much more distracting.

About ten minutes in, you feel Schlatt shift. You subtly try to glance over at him, only to be distracted by the growing problem in his lap that he is trying to cover with a pillow. You pretend to not notice what he’s attempting to fix and instead bring a hand up to place on a chest, only to have the large hand on your hip squeeze gently.

“Oh.” Schlatt whispered, and you could feel his heart rate pick up pace under your palm. You swallowed a growing lump in your throat and said a silent prayer before speaking up yourself.

“Is this okay?” You whisper back at him, too nervous to bring your eyes up to his. You feel him nod, his eyes not leaving the television screen, and melt a little more into his side. Your mind was racing, trying to think of something sly to say when he cleared his throat.

“Um… can we… uuhhh…” you look up at him and notice how red his cheeks and ears had gotten, not helping your own growing desire to see this man flustered and falling apart. You took a deep breath and put on a brave face.

“Can we what, Jay?” You ask, hand boldly coming up to rest on his cheek, pulling his attention to you instead of the screen. His eyes flicked from your eyes to lips, then back to your eyes. Okay, maybe we are getting somewhere.

“Would it be weird if we, uhh….” He trailed off, bringing his left hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Cuddled? I guess?” His voice was quiet, almost mouse like. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, motioning for him to move.

“I’d be more that fine with that, Jay.” Your words came out more seductive that you had intended, but as he readjusted himself and the pillow slipped off his lap, you couldn’t help but notice the way his… not-so-little friend twitched.

Once he was settled, you clambered back over to him, tucking yourself into his side. His arm came to rest around you once more, hand placed halfway between your hip and ass.

The two of you returned your eyes back to the television, but it was clear that neither were paying attention to whatever the hell this film was.

About twenty minutes after switching positions, you noticed Schlatt’s hand slowly pushing the hem of your shirt up, fingers ghosting over the skin of your stomach. You squeezed your legs together tightly, crossing your ankles, and couldn’t help but let out a gasp as one of his digits traced over a particular sensitive patch of skin. Your heart began pounding inside your chest, and you started thinking of ways to excuse yourself to go take care of your now soaked panties. You felt Schlatt’s hand rub back over your hip and squeeze, only adding to your problem.

C’mon, you’re a big girl. You can only do this two ways, you thought. Obviously there’s some sort of attraction here if he’s trying to hide his boner and you’re wetter than the fucking sea. Either get up and take a cold shower, possibly making things awkward between you guys, or man the fuck up and make a move, which could also possibly make things awkward between you. You understood that the logical side of you would probably be the better bet and make this less awkward that it needed to be, but the horny side was shouting over the logical, winning this yelling match. It’s been months since anyone’s touched you, and you’ve always wondered what he was like in bed anyways. Grow a pair and make the fucking move. You swallowed hard, kicking your plan into action.

“Schlatt,” your voice wavered nervously.

“Yeah?” His sounded much the same. Now or never.

“Can I…” you trailed off, finding the strength to speak your peace. You sat up, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face, turning to make eye contact with him. This is it, bitch. “Can I… can I try something?” You notice the way his pupils widen and Adam’s apple bob at your words, waiting for a response. He nods, eyes not leaving yours.

Letting your body take control, you swing a leg over his hips, straddling the man before leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“You can stop me at any point,” you flick your tongue over his earlobe, eliciting a small moan from the man, only fueling you. “I won’t be offended.” You feel two large hands latch onto your hips as you begin to place wet kisses down his neck, facial hair tickling your nose. You work your way across his neck, left to right, letting your hands wander under his tee-shirt, slowly pushing the fabric up towards his shoulders. You feel one of his hands leave your hip, and you pull his shirt up a bit as if asking him to take it off. He removes the other hand and obliges, returning them back to your body. You push back a bit to drink this new view in, taking a finger to trace over the patches of hair covering his chest before latching your lips to his collarbone. You continue to work your lips and tongue across his body, only stopping when you feel a hand shake through your hair, tugging it into a makeshift ponytail. You stop, eyes shooting up to his.

“Sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, almost lost. For a moment you’re worried you’ve crossed a line. “This isn’t very fair t’me. Wanna change that?” He tugs up the hem of your shirt as if asking for permission, only for you to whip it over your head before he can do it himself. Before the shirt hits the floor, his hands are grabbing at your chest and you have to thank yourself for not wearing a bra today. He pulls you forward, latching his own lips to your neck now, kissing and licking his way to your nipples while pushing your breasts together. You can’t help but moan as he sucks on the tissue, hands exploring your tits. He pulls his mouth off with a “pop”.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” He lets go of your chest, hands snaking down to your thighs. He hoists you up off of his lap briefly before standing himself, now carrying you further into the room. “You’re like a fucking succubus, y’know?” With a few strides, he’s throwing you down onto the bed before reaching down to unzip his shorts. As soon as he undoes the button, you reach out to stop him.

“Wait- can I do that?” Before he can respond, you’re sliding off the bed and sinking down to your knees, hands grabbing at the skin above his knees. You lean forward, eyes locking directly with his, and take the zipper between your teeth, tugging the metal down. His eyes roll back and he moans, as a hand once again grabs ahold of your hair, tugging it back.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He mutters, stepping out of the shorts and letting them drop to the floor after pulling your hair, guiding you away to let the garment fall. Before he could get another word in, your hands latch onto the elastic of his boxers as you lick your lips. He tugs on your hair again, pulling you back.

“If I remember correctly, you said my cum probably tastes like battery acid, and yet here you are, desperately begging for my dick,” he sounds smug and has a smirk painting his lips, which is doing nothing but turning you on even more. He pulls you up, still by the hair, before letting go of it and shoving you down on the bed by your shoulders. “I don’t think that’s very fair that you get to make fun of me then try and make me cum, princess. I’ve been starving all day, let me have dessert first, yeah?”

He has one hand fondling your breasts as the other tugs down your leggings, the cold air of the room sending a tingle to your core via the soaked lace thong now exposed to him. He tosses the article of clothing behind him and crouches down to kneel between your legs, whistling at the view.

“Did you wear these for me?” He talks down to you while slipping a finger under the waistband, snapping the elastic against your skin before leaning down to press a kiss to your hip. You whine and buck your hips up, anything to feel some sort of relief. Schlatt chuckles at you, and it sounds pitiful.

“Please, Jay, please.” You whine again, writhing.

“Please, what, doll?” He teases, hot breath hovering by your belly button.

“Please just tou-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, feeling the man in front of you lick a stripe up your slit, facial hair tickling your thighs. Your hands latch onto the thick strands of his hair, pulling him back down to your pussy. You feel him move the thin lace with his teeth before his tongue makes direct contact with your clit. He hums into you, dragging his tongue through your folds before pursing his lips around your clit once again.

You can’t help it when your legs wrap around his head, and from the groans coming from the larger man, he didn’t mind one bit. He brought arm up to hold you down, resting it across your lower stomach, while snaking his other hand between your legs, teasing at your labia before slipping inside you.

“Fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back. Never in a million years did you think this would become a reality. You had always assumed Schlatt would rather be on the receiving end of head, but here in this moment, you wanted to thank any past lovers of his for teaching him how to use his mouth for something other than snarky comments. “Jay, I- I’m-“ you moaned again, eyes shutting tightly as his fingers curled up inside you just so. You've only just started, but with the stress from the past week of travel, you were coming undone in record time.

“Jus’ fuckin’ cum, needa fuckin’ taste you,” he barked out, barely lifting himself off of you to speak. Between the pressure on your stomach, his long fingers reaching spots you’ve never been able to, along with his tongue and lips on your clit, you couldn’t hold on much longer. You felt a familiar pressure building inside of you, causing you to cry out louder than before.

“I’m gonna- I’m go-,” you felt his tongue pick up speed in tandem with his fingers and you let go, shaking as the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a long while rocked your world. You were crying out, tears spilling from your eyes as he continued his magic, working you through the height of it all. You felt him withdraw his fingers and take a deep breath once your own had steadied out, and you were fearful to make eye contact with him. You settled for staring at his soaked shoulder, following it as he stood up and hovered over you.

“I’m so sorry, Jay I should’ve said something bef-“ you were cut off by his lips crashing into yours, the taste and slick of your arousal very present on his lips and mustache. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, and you couldn’t help but finally make eye contact with him. His eyes were half lidded and looked awestruck.

“I coulda’ been makin’ ya’ squirt like that for months? Fuck, I’ve been missing out.” He leaned back in to kiss you again, bringing a sticky hand up to your cheek. You pulled back to take a deep breath before sliding your hand down his chest again and clearing your throat.

“So, um… you want me to give you a blowjob now or…?” You trailed off and Schlatt scoffed, moving your hand to the front of his boxers where a cold wet spot had formed.

“I’m not opposed, but you’re gonna have t’ give me like twenty minutes,” you looked up at him confused before he continued with a sheepish grin. “I came in my boxers the second you started tuggin’ on my hair.”

alright chat, how we feeling about this one??? feedback is always appreciated :))))))

[jezebelblues]

dress to impress | h.s

summary: in which you're a famous streamer n you finally let harry join one of your streams. (though the evening ends a bit differently than you expected)

cw: smut18+ oral (m receiving), daddy kink if u squint, spitting, fem!reader, unedited

word count: approx 3k

| yes yes i know that dti didn’t come out till last year just pretend 😔 also btw if this is cringe random then pretend i don’t exist fr i got this idea cause caseoh randomly posted a dti update while i was at the gym so thank u caseoh

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

masterlist

December 2021 | London

Snow dusted the window softly, frosting the glass and sending melting droplets downward against the pane, dancing in the direction of the wind. The world was still in the throes of the pandemic, which allowed the lines between professional and personal to blur a bit. 

YN had been a popular streamer for a few years now, but her numbers only grew once her relationship went public with the award winning, globe-trotting man that was Harry Styles. 

She had been avoiding this moment for months. Not because she didn’t want it to happen—oh no, she had definitely wanted Harry to join her on a stream, like a thousand times—but Harry had this way of throwing himself into new situations with such confidence that it was bound to lead to some seriously chaotic results.

But her fans, their fans, had been relentless. Every single time she went live on Twitch, no matter what game she was playing—among us, fortnite, mario world—the chat exploded with one resounding request: Get Harry on the stream!

At first, she’d brush it off with a smile and a laugh, always saying something like, he’s busy in the studio, or, he’s still getting in the hang of gaming, you don’t want to see him struggling on stream, trust me. But by the time December rolled around and the UK was stuck in another lockdown, YN realized she ran out of excuses to give. It was time to bring Harry on camera.

And so, on a cold December evening, she caved.

Harry was sitting in the same room. It was originally supposed to be an office, but since YN’s online career began to take off, it slowly transformed into a streaming room. Three monitors sat on a white desk in front of a large window. The one that sat in the middle showed the view of the stream and chat, while the other two were to be used for whatever.

Harry sat on a small couch in the center of the room, his head against the arm as he lazily scrolled through his phone, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to unleash on the internet. He looked effortlessly perfect, as per usual, in his gray sweats and oversized lavender hoodie, His growing curls were clipped into a tiny bun that sat on top of his head, a pair of brown glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 

The glow of the computers illuminated the room as she finished up last minute technical checks, string lights twinkling around the edge of the room for a warmer glow. YN adjusted the camera, smiling brightly as the viewers started to pile in, the chat exploding from the sight of Harry in the background. “So,” she began with a giggle, averting her eyes from the screen to her boyfriend that sat comfortably behind her. “y’ready to join us, lovey?”

He looked up from his phone, his features softening as he shut it off. His eyebrows quirked in that familiar way as he chuckled. “Oh, honey.” He sighed playfully as he stood up, ambling over to the spot behind her chair. “I was born ready.”

“Uh-huh.” She laughed, tilting her head backward to catch a glance from underneath him. “Sure you were.”

He placed a quick kiss against her forehead before he sat in the chair beside her, settling in and staring at the center monitor which revealed the chat that moved in an insane quickness. He leaned over toward YN, shoulders barely touching as he waved at her camera with a wide smile.

She snorted, pushing against her boyfriend as she leaned over to point to the other monitor with a smile. “Look, baby.” She said softly, adjusting the camera that belonged to that computer before pulling up the game roblox. She gently explained to him the set up of the stream, informing him that all he had to do was sit in his space and the chat would see him just fine. 

And they would, it took YN over twenty minutes to set the stream up in a split screen sort of way, which would allow the viewers to see both YN and Harry, and their respective screens for gameplay. 

“Oh.” Harry giggled, as he scrolled throughout the roblox website randomly. His gaze shifted between his screen and the center monitor, reading out whatever messages he could since the chat moved so quickly. He scoffed, shaking his head. “How hard can this be? Look at this!” He laughed, nodding toward his screen.

His girlfriend snorted, shaking her head as she pulled up the game dress to impress. “This isn’t grand theft auto or fifa, I don't think you'll magically be good at this.” She grinned as she leaned over again toward Harry, pulling up the same game on his monitor.

“Oh ye of little faith.” He chuckled as he watched the game load in, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “I’ve got this.”

harryfan1: OMG ur kidding i literally knew it

ynfan2: no WAY LMFAO

harryfan2: HES ON 

YN couldn’t help but laugh as she read the chat aloud. “You guys are way too excited for this,” she teased. “Harry’s not that big of a deal.” 

He feigned offense as he looked into the camera with his jaw slack, a huff escaping his lips. “Absolutely bonkers.” He laughed breathily, referring to his girlfriend that sat beside him. He let his shoulders falter as he settled in a bit more, a grin spreading across his lips as the neon lobby of dress to impress loaded in.

YN’s eyes flickered between both the camera and Harry as she explained the premise of the game, smiling at his cocky eye rolls and the flood of heart emojis and keysmashes from the chat that seemed to express a collective internet scream.

“Would you like my help?” YN asked, humor lacing her words as she stared at the theme that flashed over the screen, winter wonderland.

Harry cracked his knuckles, tongue in cheek as he shook his head, darting around the game’s lobby in search for the exact outfit he envisioned. 

She laughed at him, quickly putting on a cute outfit with hair and makeup that went along perfectly. Something elegant, a cream colored warmth. Her smile grew as she glanced at the chat, then to Harry’s screen.

user3: whos gonna tell bro

user4: oh honey…

His avatar was dressed in white, baggy jeans with a puffy winter jacket that had a hawaiian pattern on it. Harry could feel her eyes on him as he placed a santa hat on his avatar for the finishing look. The skin tone of the character was still a default gray, completely bald with no face. His smile began to falter as he looked over toward his girlfriend’s screen. “How’d you do that?” He pleaded, his mouth falling into a frown as he watched the timer go down. “I’ve got no face!”

She laughed again as she showed him how to put hair and makeup on, as well as put an actual skin tone on his little avatar. She couldn’t help but ask what the hell he was envisioning for his outfit.

He grinned as he spun his avatar around the lobby. “She’s wishing for Florida.” He said, pointing toward the screen. “She’s dressed in warm clothes but the patterns show she wishes to be elsewhere.”

user5: this guy has got to stick to writing songs

When the voting started, YN’s outfit was praised by the chat and those in the server—many of whom were fans who were able to join the same lobby.

And then came Harry’s turn.

The second his avatar strut down the runway, there was a moment of lag in the chat before it quickly exploded once more. 

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, pointing at the camera with a snap. “Five stars or m’not releasing the third album.”

YN’s mouth fell agape as she watched Harry place first, watching her boyfriend fold his hands together and shake them in victory as he hummed the tune to as it was. (a tune his fans were completely oblivious to) which only let his smirk grow wider. 

The next theme was royalty, and YN figured this one would be easier for Harry. After all, the man was basically British royalty in his own right. Surely he could nail this one.

But once again, Harry’s choices were questionable, but of course it made complete sense to him in his own mind. 

While YN opted for a pretty gown and tiara, Harry—ever the wildcard—dressed his avatar in what could only be described as a pirate. For royalty.

She stared at his screen, dumbfounded. “H..that’s a pirate.”

“Royalty of the seas, love.��� He winked, “captain Styles at your service.”

The chat went ballistic again, loving every second of Harry’s presence on screen.

user6: h pulled out the arrgh 5000s

user7: HARRY PLEASE

They played a few more rounds, with Harry’s outfits growing increasingly outlandish each time, much to the delight of the viewers. The banter between them never let up, and the stream quickly became one of YN’s most popular broadcasts ever.

As the night wore on and the final round came to an end, YN leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. “You guys are so spoiled.” She grinned in the direction of the camera. “I hope you enjoyed.”

Harry nodded, his smile unwavering. “And what did we learn tonight?”

“That this is why you have stylists?”

He scoffed before he muttered out a no, raising a finger like he was about to make a profound statement. “We learned that I am a roblox fashion icon in the making.” 

She burst out laughing again, and this time, she didn’t stop. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Harry was laughing alongside her, neither of them able to take the game—or themselves—too seriously. 

“Well baby, fashion icon or not.” She said, poking her boyfriend’s cheek gently. “I think we all learned this might not be your true calling.”

He gasped in mock offense, swatting her hand away and clutching his chest dramatically. “Rude. Just y’wait—next time I’ll come prepared. I’ll have a roblox fashion strategy ready t’go.” 

She smirked, titling her head in his direction. “Next time, huh?”

He paused with a smile, considering. “It was a bit of fun, but next time it needs to be guitar hero or something. I’ll wipe the floor with you on that one, gorgeous.” 

The chat immediately lit up again, the fans going wild at the thought of Harry in the streams more often than not, especially if he got to show off his musical side. Some were already throwing out more ideas for the future: 

Play minecraft!

Get this man on the sims! 

Releasing an album simulator (but irl) 

YN smiled again, clearly amused by the flood of suggestions. As the stream began to wind down, she and Harry took a few moments to read some of the comments and thank the viewers for tuning in. They said their goodbyes, waving at the camera and promised to do something like this again soon—though YN wasn’t sure if Harry had fully processed just how much the fans would hold him to that.

As she logged off, Harry stood from the chair and stretched his hand above his head with an exaggerated groan, revealing his belly button and the ferns peeking out from the hem of his sweatpants. She rolled the chair in his direction, resting her head against his waist with a content sigh. “Everyone loves you.”

He smiled, letting his hands fall onto her shoulders and rub them gently. “What can I say?” He hummed, a cocky sarcasm laced in his words. 

“You’re impossible.” She whispered against the wrinkled fabric of his hoodie, though the words held no bite. 

“Oh, please.” He laughed, “You enjoyed it, watching me flounder around.”

She shrugged innocently, tilting her head upward so her chin rested against his abdomen, their gaze fixed onto each other. Her smile was lazy as she parted her lips, “It was funny watching you struggle.” 

His breaths caused her head to jut softly back and forth as she continued to lean against him, his fingers running through her hair as he hummed. “Funny huh?” His tone was gentle, delicate, as his fingers ran down from her hair to caress her cheeks, making her shiver. “Y’think its a game to tease me, hm?”

She felt her pulse quicken, a tension settling around them that replaced the previous banter. “I wasn’t teasing.” She said, her voice softer than before, but the hint of a smile still played on her lips.

Harry took the teeniest step back as his hand fell from her cheek to her chin, gripping it ever so slightly. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, beckoning her mouth open. “No? Cause you’ve been doing it all night.” His voice was low, authoritative, and sent a rush of heat through her. He tutted toward her as he gazed down at her through his eyelashes, wanting her to part her lips a bit wider. His thumb slips into her mouth, the pad of it pressing down against her tongue.

“I think y’like pushing me.” He murmured, his breaths even and slow as he continued to hold her mouth open–which only allowed it to salivate even more. His eyes flickered from her lips to hers, a smile beginning to play upon his lips.

“What should we do about that, hm?” He cooed as he dragged his thumb away from her tongue, wetting her chin as his hand dropped to the side of her neck. Her own salvia glistened in the warm glow of the fairy lights around the room.

Her breath hitched as he bent at the waist, pressing a kiss onto her lips with his hand still cupping her neck. She melted into it, a heat pooling between her thighs as she felt his tongue against hers. His breath was cool with peppermint, his hair the scent of lavender and vanilla. 

They part slowly, strings of saliva snapping from the mutual disconnect. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he reaches him, gripping the back of his hoodie’s collar and pulling it off overhead. His chest rises and falls quicker than before as YN’s fingers lightly trace over the ink of the moth of his abdomen, the wings fluttering with every breath. His hands find hers as he pulls it toward the hem of his sweats. “Now,” He sighs heavily, watching her through half-lidded eyes, “be good f’me.”

She nodded as looped her fingers underneath both his sweats and his boxers, tugging them down in one continuing, slow motion until his cock slaps against the skin underneath his belly button. 

Her eyes find his, to which he grabs her chin once again, jerking it to face upward toward him. He leaned down as her lips parted, kissing her hungrily before pulling her bottom lip down gently. “Open.” He muttered, watching as she held her tongue out for him. She watched as his lips curled before spitting onto her tongue, saliva drooling from his lips to pool onto her tongue. 

She could feel her heartbeat in her core as he straightened back up, especially when he combed his digits through her hair and gripped as he reached the crown of her scalp. With her tongue still out, she neared the head of his cock—slick with precum already and the prettiest shade of pink. She swirled around the slit, watching through her eyelashes as his jaw clenched shut, a heavy exhale falling from his nose.

Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she enveloped the tip completely, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of him. She started off slow as she bobbed up and down his length, closing her inner cheeks around his cock with a hum. “Fuck.” He grunted, tightening his grip on her locks as he bucked his hips slightly. YN wrapped her hand around his length as her lips fell from his tip with a wet pop. She spat onto his cock, stroking him as she dipped her head down toward his balls, lapping and gently sucking the skin there, which had him tilt his head back in pleasure. Veins were more prominent in his neck as he groaned, the coil in his belly tightening. “Such a good girl.” He moaned softly as she wrapped her lips around his cock again, taking him deeper, her throat convulsing around the head that swelled with the threat of release. “Taking daddy’s cock so good.”

She hummed again, the reverberation causing his toes to curl against the carpet. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his fist, guiding her movements as moans continued to fall from his lips. She could feel him begin to twitch in her throat as she gagged on his length, his movements sloppy. She could feel his quickened breaths from the way his lower abdomen fluttered against her forehead. “M’close baby–” He grunted, loosening his grip on her hair only slightly. “W-where.?” He choked out in pleasure, his abs rippling and tensing under the glow of the fairy lights, glistening from sweat. 

She only trailed her hands up his bare thighs, gripping his hips as if to keep him in place. She wanted to taste him, to suck him of every drop entirely. 

His cock pulsed against her tongue as he thrusted once more into her throat, shooting white ropes of come into her mouth with a moan. Her head continued to bob as she swirled her tongue around him, licking every drop of his release to the sound of his whimpers–the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. 

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as she parts from his cock, placing a few lazy kisses along his navel with a smile. He swallows hard, brushing strands of hair from her face with a lopsided smile. “I could get use to this.” He teases breathlessly, watching as his girlfriend shrugged his pants back up his long legs with a grin. 

She stood from her chair, pulling Harry into a kiss. His tongue brushes past her lips, his knees weak at the taste of himself mingled with her saliva. She hums against him, cupping his cheek as she parts. “Don’t get use to it, pretty boy. You still sucked.”

He laughed, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink as he shot a haphazard wink toward her. “Actually baby, that was all you.”

[pucksandpower]

Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

[yup-thats-me]

—for love • J. Wooyoung

❀pairing; ❝ Wooyoung x gf!reader❞ ❀summary; ❝Wooyoung wants to cook for his beloved wife ♡.ᐟ❞ ❀warnings; ❝none, few sexist comments❞

"Hey, atiny," Wooyoung smiled as he started the pop-up live. "Have you guys been well?"

The chat flooded with thousands of people greeting the idol. And some would also point out that he was beaming, saying his "eyes were 'literally beaming."

Wooyoung continued to talk with his fans, although his camera was facing the ceiling instead of his face, sounds of pots and pans filling the silence.

"Y/n is late tonight," He announced a bit sad, although smiling nonetheless.

"She's been working overtime for quite some time now," He recalled, his face falling slightly.

Even though the idol could not see, his beloved fans were gushing over him. They have known of Y/n and Woo's relationship for quite some time now. They had been dating for a year when the two finally became public with their relationship. It did come as a huge news to the fans but the lack of his company's dating ban, the backlash was close to none with only sasaengs hating on the two.

But the two came out stronger than ever. Ateez and Atiny supporting them, Wooyoung was more comfortable with sharing his love life a bit more.

"So," Woo jumped, a pan in his hand. "Let's make meatballs and pasta for my jagi." He smiled cheekily.

The comments flooded once more. Are they getting a glimpse of cook Wooyoung? The day couldn't get any better!

"First, the onion."

Wooyoung quickly set his phone on the counter before grabbing his chopping board and knife. "Pro tip, cut your onion in half and put them in water for a couple of minutes. You'll not cry that way," he smiled.

As Woo showed off his knife skills, the chat had quieted down a bit, fans admiring his face and the recipe of course.

"'Where are the other members?'" He read out from a comment.

"They're in the studio," he raised a brow, smirking. Ever since their newest comeback teaser, atiny were, for lack of a better word, begging the members for any kind of spoilers.

Wooyoung hummed as he skipped from counter to the kitchen island, cutting up his veggies, and rolling the meatballs. "She likes this dish very much," Wooyoung said mostly to himself. "Gotta keep the wife on her toes," He smirked.

"With surprises, of course!" He added when he remembered his fans will tease him again.

After about half an hour, all his balls were done and the sauce was made. Putting the spaghetti to boil, he sat down for a while, reading the comments.

"'What did you add in the sauce'?" With a mischievous smile, Woo dipped his finger in the sauce, taste-tasting it. "Hmm, garlic, onion, oregano, and a whole lot of love!" He giggled as he made finger hearts.

Answering some of his fan's questions, a particular comment made hhis face blank. "'Isn't cooking Y/n's job? That's what women are for anyway.'"

Atiny held their breath as Woo stared blankly into the screen. "Oh yeah?" Here it comes.

"Of course you'll say that when you can't even boil water without burning down your whole house," He smiled sarcastically. "Skill issue, dude."

The chat exploded once more with praises and surprise. Atiny knew how savage Woo can get and its nice to see men shown their rightful places.

"Anyway, Seonghwa-hyung..." Woo changed the subject immediately talking about how his hyung was working on one of his newest lego sets.

"'I would never cook for my girlfriend. She can fend for herself."

This time however, Wooyoung could not keep his poker-face staright, disgust written all over. He was about to reply when the time went off signaling that the spaghetti was done.

Getting up, Woo drained the water, mixing the pasta with the simmering sauce. He looked back directly into the camera, his voice loud and clear.

"Do you guys even love your significant other? Doesn't seem like it."

Wooyoung did not have the time to continue when Y/n entered the fram, kissing him on the cheek. "Smells delicious, baby."

Wooyoung reveled in her praise. "Freshen up, sweetheart. I'm all done," He said as he hugged her close. "Oh Atiny is watching," He pointed.

Gasping, Y/n waved a quick goodbye to the screen as she sprinted out of the frame.

Smiling, Wooyoung piked up his phone. "Bye, guys. My beloved wife is here."

He could not have said "wife" with a more proud smile.

do not copy, steal or translate my work on any other sites. all rights belongs to yup-thats-me™ on tumblr

reqs are open!🪷✨

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، kiss me , you idiot ،، ⌇ 민규

─────────────────────────────────────────

" are we dating now , or do i still need to bribe you with food to hang out with me ? " .ᐟ 🫙

pairing .ᐟ bestfriend-now-boyfriend!mingyu × fem!reader genre .ᐟ childhood best friends to lovers au , same mess yet lil sweeter word count .ᐟ 1.3k song rec. .ᐟ ─

note .ᐟ witness this , not experiences it . 😞🖐🏻

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Mingyu stood in front of Y/N’s door, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. He'd been here a thousand times before, so why was his heart racing like a middle schooler about to confess for the first time?

Maybe because, in a way, he was.

Y/N had been his best friend since childhood—the one who used to push him off swings, steal his food, and tease him relentlessly for being taller than everyone else. Their friendship was pure chaos from the start, and that never changed as they grew up. If anything, it only got worse. But somewhere along the line, Mingyu started noticing little things. Like the way his heart beat faster when Y/N laughed at his jokes or the pang of jealousy he felt when she talked about other guys. And the kicker? He realized that he didn’t just love Y/N as a best friend—he was in love with her.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked. Before he could second-guess his entire life, the door flung open, and there she was, grinning mischievously. "Late as usual, Kim Mingyu."

"I’m literally three minutes early!" he protested, stepping inside her apartment. He couldn’t help but smile, though. This was their thing—bantering, teasing, and laughing their way through life. He loved it. And he was about to ruin it all by admitting he liked her.

"You ready for movie night?" Y/N asked, bouncing onto the couch and kicking her feet up. She tossed him the remote like it was a reflex.

"Actually..." Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about something first."

Y/N paused, the grin fading just a little. "Uh-oh, serious face. Should I be worried?"

"No, no. Well, maybe? I don't know." Mingyu was making this worse, wasn’t he? He took a deep breath, sitting down beside her. "You know how we've always... had this, uh, thing?"

"What thing?" she teased, clearly not sensing the gravity of the situation.

"This... chaotic, fun thing between us." He waved his hands in the air, trying to find the right words. "But also, I’ve realized it’s not just chaotic and fun for me anymore. It’s more."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful confusion. "More like what? Are you saying you want to rob a bank together? Or maybe start a prank war?"

Mingyu huffed, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle. Leave it to Y/N to make even his serious moments feel like a joke. "No, I’m saying..." He inhaled sharply. "I like you, Y/N. Like, really like you. More than just friends."

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Y/N blinked at him, her usual quick-wittedness seemingly gone for the first time in their long friendship.

"Oh," she finally said, breaking the stillness.

Mingyu’s heart sank. "Oh?"

"No, I mean—" Y/N suddenly burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "You... you were so nervous! You looked like you were about to explode!" She reached over, ruffling his hair like she always did when teasing him.

Mingyu’s mouth dropped open. "Wait. You're... laughing? I just confessed to you!"

Y/N bit her lip, trying to suppress her laughter, but she was failing miserably. "Mingyu, you dork. I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle," she said, grinning. "I've noticed for a while now. You think I wouldn’t catch on to the way you blush whenever I tease you? Or how you always seem extra flustered when I call you cute?"

Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was waiting for you to figure it out and tell me, obviously," Y/N replied matter-of-factly, still smirking. "Besides, it’s way more fun watching you squirm."

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I can't believe this."

"Hey, at least now it's out in the open," Y/N said, pulling his hands away from his face. Her tone softened, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that made Mingyu’s heart flip. "And, for the record, I like you too."

Mingyu’s brain short-circuited. "Wait, what?"

She smiled softly, this time without the teasing edge. "Yeah. I like you, you big idiot. I’ve liked you for a while."

"You could've told me," he said, still trying to process what was happening. His heart was hammering in his chest, a mix of disbelief and joy.

Y/N shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

He stared at her for a beat before his lips curled into a grin. "So... what now?"

"Now," Y/N said, sitting back against the couch, "we continue our usual chaos. Except now we get to kiss and be all gross and couple-y too."

Mingyu laughed, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"And you're stuck with me," Y/N replied, poking his side. "Now, come here and let me give you your first official couple smooch."

Before Mingyu could react, Y/N had pulled him in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to his lips. It was so casual, like something they'd done a million times before, but it sent his heart soaring all the same.

"So," he said, pulling back slightly, "does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want now?"

"Within reason," she teased, poking his chest. "Don’t go overboard, Kim Mingyu. We still have a movie to watch."

But Mingyu had other plans. With a mischievous grin, he leaned in again, this time capturing her lips in a deeper kiss. It wasn’t just playful now; it was soft, sweet, and filled with all the feelings he’d been bottling up for months.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N's cheeks were pink, and she looked slightly flustered—a rare sight. "Okay," she breathed, "maybe you can kiss me a little more than I thought."

Mingyu laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. "See? Told you it’s better when we’re a couple."

"Debatable," Y/N shot back, but the smile on her face told him she didn’t really mean it.

Over the next few weeks, their relationship didn’t change much. They still bickered, teased each other relentlessly, and pulled pranks like they always had. The only difference now was the added sweetness—the way Mingyu would wrap his arm around her waist as they walked, or how Y/N would absentmindedly reach for his hand while they were talking. It was chaotic, but it worked. It was them.

One evening, they were at a friend’s housewarming party, and as usual, chaos ensued. Mingyu and Y/N were being their usual loud selves, debating over something trivial—this time, it was about who could make a better spaghetti carbonara.

"I'm telling you, you put way too much garlic in it!" Y/N said, waving her hands around dramatically.

"It’s called flavor, Y/N. Ever heard of it?" Mingyu shot back, rolling his eyes.

Their friends were used to their antics by now, but someone asked, "Do you guys ever fight about anything real? Or is it all just spaghetti and who can prank better?"

Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a glance before bursting out laughing. "We don’t really fight," Y/N said between giggles. "But if we ever did, I’d win. Obviously."

"You wish," Mingyu said, pulling her into a side hug, his voice dripping with playful affection.

"You guys are disgustingly cute," their friend groaned, shaking their head.

"Well, it’s either this or complete chaos," Mingyu replied, grinning down at Y/N. "And trust me, you don’t want the chaos."

Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, laughing as he feigned injury. "Ow, see? She’s violent!"

"Only when necessary," Y/N said with a wink, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

Mingyu beamed, pulling her closer. He never thought falling for his best friend could feel this... right. It was the same chaos, the same playfulness, but now it came with a sweetness that made his heart feel full.

And as long as he had Y/N by his side—whether they were fighting over spaghetti or teasing each other about literally anything—he was more than happy to be caught in the mess.

[pannman]

What's on your mind

Alastor x telepathic reader

Tw: dark thoughts, mentions of violence, depressed thoughts, angst, overstimulation

You knew it was a bit risky to show up to a new place hoping for salvation. But in Hell you were given a secret gift... it was more like a curse. You heard people's thoughts. Whether you wanted to or not. And being surrounded by all the worst kinds of people and hearing the horrible and nasty things that plagued their minds had turned you antisocial. You rarely exited your apartment.

The plants were your only friends. But one eviction notice from your pervy landlord and you were out on the streets again. He had tripled your rent almost overnight after you rejected him. You trailed through the busy street hearing all the the unholy thoughts of others and you began to get overstimulated. The voices of a thousand sinners filled your head with their dark thoughts and you covered your ears in instinct even though you knew it would do no good

*I want to kill that bastard with his own car*

*I'll slip something skimpy on and while he's cock drunk I'll steal his wallet and then slice his throat*

*I hate myself. I cannot keep doing this. I'm a monster. I deserve to be here. I need to find some drugs. I can't deal with this sober. Fuck my life! I wish death was really the end*

*Steal. Steal. Steal. I want that. I need that! I'll just wait until that guy leaves his store and I'll break the window and take it. I'll stab anyone who gets in my way. I must have it! Steal! STEAL!*

Suddenly you were brought out of your emotional spiral by the tv in the window next to you. "And there you have it. The new and improved Hazbin Hotel is now officially open for business! The princess of hell is now again accepting patrons for her little pet project she calls redemption. I don't know about any of you. But I think she's wasting her fucking time. But she did save hell and her precious daddy gave us a lot of money so here you go. Check out the Hazbin Hotel and check in to start your journey to the gates of Heaven today! Is that good enough? What do you mean the cameras are still on?"

Even though you weren't 100% sure you believed it was possible, the idea of getting out of hell was far too tempting. And you needed somewhere to stay anyway. You rang the doorbell expecting the princess of hell to answer only to see the door opened by a tall well dressed but creepy looking gentleman. You recognized him quickly. He was an overlord named Alastor or also known as the Radio Demon. You didn't know he was going to be there but you tried to pretend like you weren't in shock

"Hello, my name is y/n. I'm here to-" suddenly Alastor swept you away and guided you inside with a hand on your lower back. "Of course my dear! I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you quite a pleasure! Do come in" His thoughts peirced into your brain with a sharp pain and a sound of static

*yet another fool seeking redemption. Or perhaps a sinner with some ulterior motive. I'm sure they won't last long. But it'll be such fun playing with them*

You were unsettled by his thoughts and proceeded to grow more uncomfortable with his touch. You were beginning to change your mind when the hostess of the hotel, the princess herself finally showed. "Oh my gosh! Are you here to join the hotel?" She looked so excited that she looked as if she'd explode any minute

*I hope Alastor doesn't scare this one away as well. He can be so intimidating. I just wanna help them but they never stick around.*

Realizing the princess had genuine intentions unlike anyone you've encountered here, you felt more inclined to stay. The tension in your shoulders began to relax. "Yeah, I'd like to give it a try at least" You answered. "That's great! I'm Charlie! Of course you've met Alastor..."

Once again you were mentally attacked by Alastors thoughts for some reason. You've never felt actual pain from your telepathy before

*Another sucker here to try and fail like the others. This will be fun to watch*

Charlie seemed to notice your distress. "Are you ok?" She asked. You rubbed your temples and tried to drown out the pain. "Yeah, I... I just get headaches sometimes. It's nothing to worry about" you lied.

Charlie introduced you to the rest of the hotel who seemed much less enthusiastic about your arrival. It was very clear they weren't too confident in you sticking around. Their thoughts gave away their true situation. People must have been coming and going ever since they reopened. But still, it was a place to stay. For free. And at least one nice person was there. You liked Charlie. It was a breath of fresh air to hear thoughts that 1. Weren't horrible and 2. Matched the energy and vibe of the person. She was kind and real. That made you believe it couldn't be all bad

But then Alastor of all people offered to show you to your room. You glanced a look of worry at Charlie who was completely distracted and oblivious while talking away to her girlfriend about how excited she was about a new sinner entering the hotel

He chatted away with you the entire way. "So tell me, what makes you so interested in this place? I am rather curious"

*What are their true motivations?*

You responded. "I lost my apartment and I was at a low place. I saw an advertisement on TV and figured what else have I got to loose" you weren't exactly lying. Just leaving out the fact that you can read minds or more that they read themselves to you without your consent. "Oh trust me you still have plenty. You've got your soul and your life. Those things have at least SOME value. Either way, there is no place quite as beautiful and desperate as rock bottom. Yes?"

*I wonder if they can get any lower?*

You were beginning to become better at hiding the migraines Alastor's thoughts were giving you but you were growing exhausted from fighting it. It was like being around him drained you. You grew more tired by the minute. "Yeah I guess so..."

"You must've had a long day. I imagine it's been overwhelming for you. But do not worry. Our beds are quite comfy" he reassured you.

*Comfier than a coffin of course*

You laughed...

"What is so funny?" He asked tilting his head in curiosity as the two of you stopped at your room door. "Uhh. Nothing I just remembered something funny" you lied. "Oh do tell!" He replied. Shit...

"it was really dumb you wouldn't like it" you tried to lie your way out of this. "Oh and you think you know me so well already?" He responded

*I don't know what's up with this sinner but they are definitely hiding something*

Oh no... quick think of something funny. "So I saw this... guy and he... fell out of a window... into... a coffin! And... he fell asleep in it... I don't know why, I just thought it was funny" You felt your heart racing in you chest. Alastor stared at you with scrutiny before smiling wide. "You're right that is quite dumb. But I suppose everyone's humor is different. Anyway, here is your room. Please let me know if there's any way I could make your stay more comfortable." He bought it?

"Yeah... I'll keep that in mind. Thank you" you began to close the door. "One more thing..." He said as you stopped. "Yes?" His thoughts peirced your mind louder than ever before as if he was speaking to you on purpose. The static now making his voice sound straight up demonic. You clutched your head barely being able to withstand the pain

*How long have you been able to read my mind?*

[bewitched-hours]

WOAH hey hi hello, i LOVED ur oneshots of telamon + child!reader and manifestation of wrath!reader, and i was wondering if you could make a part 2 of one of those, you could choose what to make a part 2 of, or you chould choose not to make a part 2 at all lol!

Make sure you get enough sleep and water and dont push yourself too hard!! <33

Y'all are too sweet omg-

But I will gladly do a part 2 on the child!reader with Telamon/Shedletsky since I was technically already kinda asking to be requested for that lol-

Like previously, reader's pronouns are She/Her!

You were terrified when you couldn't find Telamon anywhere. You knew how to take care of yourself for a few days but were absolutely sobbing for him to come back.

Did you do something wrong? Were you being too annoying again?

You weren't exactly given straight answers but what made it worse was when you somehow woke up in a completely different place. Surrounded by strangers.

You were mortified to say the least, screaming and crying the whole time as you tried to scream for 'Papa' which eventually got Shedletsky's attention and boy, was he quick to dash into the room and swoop you up.

At first you wanted to push him away in further panic but he quickly wrapped his wings around you in that familiar embrace that made you calm down almost instantly to look at his face and recognize him.

"Papa!" You'd exclaim with excitement, hugging him tight with your shaking figure while the other survivors began to panic and ask Shed a thousand questions.

Since when was he a dad, how old were you, etc etc...

He took some time to explain the story- leaving out the details about him being Telamon- while you were simply preening his wings as you liked to do.

You weren't sure why the others were calling him by a different name but you didn't bother to ask about it. What mattered most to you right now was that you had your papa back.

007n7 actually kinda offered to help out with you, given he was a dad as well and although you were wary of him, being that he was still a stranger, you accepted your papa's explanation of him being a friend and to please trust him.

Shedletsky knew you were a handful, especially with your stubbornness and distrust. But he was glad when you came around to trusting the other survivors.

You weren't sent with them on rounds often, given that you're only a child. However, you still had a role and when you were sent into a round, you usually stuck with the nearest survivor available. That usually happened to be Shedletsky, 007n7, Elliot or Chance.

You were more of a support, meaning you had different uses for each case.

For your papa, you'd raise feathery shield to protect him and rush ahead while the shield recharged again. You always hoped that he could escape in time as well...

For 007, you'd usually only have to heal him even though he insists he's fine. At that point he already became your uncle as you saw it with how he'd try to both protect you and keep you entertained during rounds so you wouldn't have to be traumatized as much.

With Elliot, you had a habit of healing each other and using your shield to protect him from getting targeted. You have no idea how grateful he is when he sees you nearby at the start of a round...

But with Chance, you practically become a second Elliot with how much he asks for heals and your shield. It's annoying but with the way he entertains you(usually with his gun exploding in his face), you allow his antics and even sometimes dare to call him uncle alongside Elliot and 007.

Sometimes the Spectre would be a little cruel and leave you without any of them outside of rounds. You'd just watch the TV to cheer them on and wait for any of them to get back... Like a lost puppy...

You technically had your own cabin but you never bothered going to it. You felt much safer with your papa after all.

And how you always loved to listen to his slow breathing to keep you calm...

Maybe you were a bit clingy-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[lilbluustar]

moles

pairing— wonbin x fem!reader

wc 1.1k

content— soft angst, fluff, slow burn, emotional intimacy

warnings— mild sensuality / implied sexual tension, emotional vulnerability, mentions of physical touch (kissing, tracing skin, cuddling), wonbin being literally the softest human alive, lots of tenderness (no, seriously. it might melt you.)

note— lately wonbin just won't get out of my head and it's inspiring me too much, i love him so much….

the afternoon sun streamed through the window, warm and slow, as Wonbin shifted uncomfortably. he took off his hoodie in silence, as if still unsure, revealing his sleeveless shirt and, unintentionally, some secrets he didn’t expect would catch your attention so much.

it wasn’t the first time you saw Wonbin without a hoodie, but something about that moment made you stop. maybe it was the light. maybe it was the moles.

and you, with that gaze that misses nothing, give him a quick glance but stop when you see those moles. one subtle one on his arm, another near his stomach, which you noticed since his shirt lifted a little.

you can’t help it and softly but surely say: "i really like your moles..."

and that’s when he freezes. he blinks. looks down for a second, then back up at you. "my what...?" "your moles," you repeat, gentler. "there’s something about them… i don’t know, i just think they’re really cute."

and unexpectedly, he blushes. a real blush, deep, starting from his ears and spreading to his cheeks. he lets out a small nervous laugh and scratches the back of his neck. "no one’s ever told me that," he’d say, not really knowing where to look.

you can tell he’s not used to being admired in that kind of intimate, genuine way. because yes, he knows he’s handsome, but for you to notice those personal, quiet details… it throws him completely off.

and then he does the most Wonbin thing you could imagine: he moves closer, slowly, sits near you, and extends his arm. "do you… want to touch them?" he says, not looking directly at you, with the softest, most trembling voice you’ve ever heard from him.

you laugh, gently trace the mole with your fingertips, and he literally shivers a little. "don’t do that… you’re making me nervous," he’d say, half smiling, half wanting to hide behind the cushions.

but he doesn’t move away. Quite the opposite. he lets you keep touching, not saying another word, surrounded by that tender silence that only exists when there’s already so much trust. your fingers keep brushing the mole on his arm. it’s small, almost invisible, but you look at it like it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. and that… breaks him.

wonbin swallows hard. his eyes fixed on your fingers, then on your eyes. he stays quiet for a few seconds, but his cheeks still glow with that soft red that refuses to fade.

"why do you like them so much?" he asks in a low voice, almost a whisper, as if afraid of the answer. you smile and shrug. "because they’re a part of you. and i love everything about you… even the parts you think no one notices."

and him. HIM. he looks at you like you just threw a bucket of tenderness over him. literally. you leave him breathless. he stares with those big, dark eyes, and his lashes tremble just a bit. then, without saying anything, he leans in. slowly. insecure.

and you already know what’s coming, but your heart is racing so fast it feels like it might explode. his plump lips meet yours. soft. warm. shaky at first, then more certain. it’s not a movie kiss or a rushed one. it’s an honest kiss—one of those that says more than a thousand words.

and when he pulls back, just a little, his forehead rests against yours. he closes his eyes for a moment, like he needs to process what just happened. "sorry," he murmurs, "i didn’t know if i should…"

"don’t apologize," you reply, still smiling. your hands reach up to his face and caress his cheeks. he sighs, closing his eyes fully this time. and he leans into you. like your lap is his safe place. and you hug him. and he, with his strong arms, holds you with a gentleness you didn’t know he had.

you stay like that. the room in silence. your breaths meeting in that calm space between you. and he whispers: "i feel so good with you… it scares me." and you just hug him tighter, no need to say anything. because everything’s already been said.

you’re still hugging. your head on his chest. wonbin’s heart beats fast—so fast you can hear it in your ears. and he says nothing, just… slides a hand down your back, slowly, caressing you with the tips of his fingers. like he’s memorizing you.

"do you mind if i get closer?" he asks with that deep, soft voice, like he doesn’t want to break the moment. you shake your head, and he gently shifts to be on top of you, bracing himself on one arm, not crushing you but so close you can count his lashes. his gaze locks with yours. so intense. so deep. so yours.

he strokes your cheek, then slowly moves down your neck, tracing invisible lines that steal your breath. and his lips… brush against yours again, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. he just looks at you. like he’s waiting for permission. and you give it without words. you just close your eyes, lean in, and he understands.

the kiss this time is different. slower. More intimate. there’s no rush. just restrained desire, tenderness, and nerves tangled like his fingers with yours.

your hands wrap around him, and his back is warm, strong… but when your fingers brush that mole on his stomach, his body trembles slightly. he looks at you. bites his lip. "stop doing that…" he murmurs, with a smile half crooked, half defeated— "or i’m gonna lose control…"

but you don’t stop. and he lets out a soft laugh, like he can’t believe you.

and then the kiss deepens. hands moving up, down, exploring gently. lips on your neck, your collarbone. his breath growing more ragged against your skin.

until again, he pauses. rests his forehead on your shoulder, barely trembling. "if we keep going… i won’t want to stop." and his voice… sounds like a plea. like a confession.

"then don’t stop," you whisper.

but he hugs you tighter. covers you with his body, with his warmth, and murmurs: "i want to do this right. i want you to remember me as someone who cared for you, not someone who got carried away. i want you to give me your time. as much as you’re willing to give."

and you melt. literally. because… how could you not love someone who desires you with such tenderness and respect?

[shuenkio]

愛 I want your Salty ! - 이희승

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader

Synopsis ; It was a teasing joke but who knows your boyfriend would actually let you taste his "Salty" Water?

Genre: Smut Cw: Smau. Non proof read

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A/n: ik there'd be some part that different from the starter, since my brain is not braining— anyway.

In a day of normal life of Mn who always wanted someone who can understand him and can handle him at his worst not only his emotion but his behavior too since he know himself that, he can't control his running lip and thought sometime despite being a random rambler person, and it was just a dream and hoping to find a perfect boyfriend right? right but not until someone like his tinder profile, and text him that they want to meet him, a normal single date between two guys wouldn't hurt a try, so Mn give it a short, lower his expectation and standard so he can take anything they could offer.

Lord have mercy, it not what Mn have expected, the person who asked him out on a date named, Heeseung is just far more than he could imagine after exchange each other life story. Mn was about to explode after learning that Heeseung was just as much as him, just a different body at least, he was casual, blunt, quite, bold and understandable kind of person which make it so perfect if he would be Mn's boyfriend.

Which soon turn to be true, it not Mn who asked the taller if he had a partner, it the other way around. the red hair didnt play once he also find his perfect love on a random day and he would let it slip into thin air? not a chance, after the date end that day, he immediately asked Mn out and asked him to be his, not for a time being but forever, and when Mn ensure about a second thoughts, Heeseung didn't care one bit if there any negative about Mn, He calmy response he know when he see one and that's not his Mn. And the answer cannot be No, if Hee want it he would do anything....

Present time

The day fall into dark, replace by the thousands stars filled the empty sky, the moon were amazing today, it light shine bright through every corner of the busy night city. Mn and Heeseung just got back from running errands today and making both of their ways back to their shared apartment home. Due to the hot weather from the day, when Mn spotted a ice cream truck he was thinking to grab some to cool down their body, and Heeseung just go along with it, anything for his Boyfriend.

And they continue on their way back home, as both of them have ice cream in their palm, licking, sucking, savoring the taste with it cold and yummy flavor. As Mn was eating, he is licking a scoop of ice cream which make his brain freeze for a moment. Heeseung chuckled to the sight, find t amusing and adorable when Mn acting like a toddler. Mn knot his brows together, his expression turn to a fake sulking that draw more laugh from the latter. The good time last for a while, before an idea pop up when Mn thought of something that could make his Boyfriend stun or even freaking shock.

"Stop snorting, This ice cream was too sweet that i could get diabetes ugh why don't you help me" Mn let out a sassy sigh and look away, hoping he would respond to his favor.

"By what, i don't have anything on me except a bottle of water, do want it?" Hee claimed, as he was about to pull out a water bottled from his backpack but was stopped why Mn comments.

"Oh so you thought i want that bland water? joke on you i want a salty one- from You" Smirk appear on Mn face, express the teasing in his tone with a hint of actually want it, knowing that Heeseung won't do such thing, and Mn know his taller bf know what he mean. Result Heeseung to turn his head slowly toward his lover, raise one of his eyebrows,That's even Mn cant even read his face.

Yet he not actually looking and pay much attention to Mn right now, Hee looking for a nearby restroom.

"What are you looking for? Don't take it seriously i was joking let's go back home, it getting late" Mn disappointed and awkward ate him up as nothing slip from Heeseung lip, it was pure silent. Mn was ready to go back home at instant only to get his back collar hooked by Heeseung's finger and dragging Mn to the restroom nearby.

"Don't be, i never said i would not give what you want, you said what you said right?"

"Heeseung....!"

////

Inside the empty restroom, with barely nobody came across at this hour, Heeseung and Mn were in the same stall, just the two of them.

With Heeseung sitting on the toilet, Mn were sitting down on the floor. A lopsided grin painted in the taller face as his fingers dug into the waistband of his pants, all at once before pool down everything on his ankle, with a quite a shift of the fabric, his cock was exposed- vulnerable in a way that giving Mn access to his liking, the cool air brushing over the heated skin making him twitching and throbbing.

"Go on suck it like how you wanted, i don't mind since you like it"

Mn blinked, jaw ticking slightly, like his brain had short circuited but refused to believe what his lover just did.

"Uhhh can i even?-"

"If you don't I'm going to make you yourself darling, do it as you please, suck my cock until it dripping, leaking, and load you milk by the time it fucking drown your throat, like you want it Mn, my salty cum- do i need to say more?"

Heeseung even making sure he was making the right statement for his clueless boyfriend so he could feel at ease, as he lean backward, spread his legs more for his Mn to giving him more entry. He always been the understanding one, quietly patient, nothing really shock him anymore, he would give all the things Mn desire.

Mn eyes spark with satisfations the kind that came when something he longing for finally here. As he slowly insert his boyfriend's jotting massive cock inside his warm mouth then began to bobbing his head in a steady rhyme, taking his time to make this moment longer. While Heeseung just sit still, doing nonthing.

"Just like that Mn, wrapped that hungry lip like you want to eat this cock- fuck hell yeah" The empty room are now filled with soft groan and moaning from the stall, not even care if there anyone would hear them, this is all pleasure that cannot be stop.

Heeseung’s breath caught, shoulders pressing back as his fingers curled tight in hair. He wasn’t being loud, he couldn’t be, but the sounds still slipped from him, unfiltered and low. Quiet groans rolled out of his chest, scattered and rough around the edges like he didn’t know how to hold them in anymore.

"Ah… fuck…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but every word felt heavy, soaked in heat.

The mouth on him moved with intention. Not rushed. Not teasing. Just steady, like something worth savoring. Tongue soft and warm as it swept along the underside, slow and sure, before easing back again. Heeseung shuddered, jaw clenching as his thighs twitched.

He looked down and swore again, eyes glazed, lips parted, chest rising in shallow waves.

"You’re gonna make me… shit, Don't you stop"

Heeseung’s hand dropped to the stall wall, palm flat, searching for something solid. The way he was being taken in wasn’t rough, but it was overwhelming in its care. Like every second had been memorized.

He let out a moan, voice caught in the back of his throat.

"God, your mouth…"

His body trembled as that warmth coiled tight in his stomach. The way he was being taken in, steadily, deeper with each pass, had him spiraling. Heeseung could barely breathe. His other hand tangled deeper in Mn hair, not guiding, just holding on.

"You’re gonna kill me," he whispered, a choked sound following right after.

"Don’t stop. Please. Just… don’t."

His hips jerked once, breath staggering, and the mouth around him adjusted with the same smooth pressure, never missing a beat. A soft hum followed, intentional or not, it didn’t matter. It was the last thing he needed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…cum, cum cumming ”

With a low, shaky moan, Heeseung tensed. His breath stilled. Then he came, with a massive load, it was quiet but intense, his toes curling as a sound escaped him, raw, soft, almost reverent.

"Swallow it, don't leave any drop darling, just like you need to refresh your sweet tongue"

His head tipped back, neck bared to the too-bright lights above, chest rising in uneven waves as he tried to remember how to breathe. Fingers still tangled, body still pulsing from the aftershock.

"Was it salty like you want now?"

Mn nodded satisfied.

Who wouldn't when you get to suck Dick, especially from someone you loved.

[narfin-frood]

another wave of swap doodles from another late night drawing sesh!

talking abt my new thoughts for the au also under the cut :))))))

so i've been thinking on the big catastrophic event. and i've landed on this:

i think the big catastrophic event is caused by the hat. the hat is never scooped up and adopted by wander during the big dispute the previous "owners" had, so it instead lands in the hands of jeff. jeff in the au is already a pretty normal, chill dude, with a band and a life. he's been friends with wander for a while, but during a lull where they don't see each other for a while, he gets ahold of the hat, and the possibilities overcome him. he Didn't Know how Good it feels to be Bad. and he's making up for lost time by tricking out his little ship with guns and thrusters and all sorts of evil stuff.

wander is taken into custody by sylvia, who is working for some organization like the men in black. she interrogates him, and realizes he doesn't know the first thing about what jeff has been up to in his absence, though she has pictures of them hanging out from years back.

they'd search for jeff, who announces himself as major threat when they finally catch up with him, and would attempt to produce some kind of enormous doomsday weapon from the hat. this would be like the last nail in the coffin for the hat, which was already within an inch of blowing up anyway, and it would explode and flatten the entire solar system and surrounding area, taking major threat with it.

sylvia and wander take shelter in a cave right before the blast hits, and when they come out, it's devastation all around. wander's been wrung out, now. his oldest friend is gone, and he feels to some degree responsible for the whole mess, even when sylvia assures him he isn't. they take a trip around and realize just how much damage the hat's explosion had done, and how far it stretches, and that's when wander starts to spiral. surely there's something he could've done to prevent it, and how dare he continue on when who knows how many wonderful people have just been vaporized in the midst of their "battle"(basically just yelling at major threat from a distance Not to Do It).

they come to rest on a planet that still has some firewood left, and sylvia goes off to gather it while wander takes shelter in another cave. A very damp cave, a dark cave, one that seems almost entirely untouched by time. and in the cave, there's one glowing orange mushroom.

anyway, that's about how long sylvia and wander know each other before the cult's inception. i think they only get to have a couple moments where they're just buds on a mission, and then it's all downhill. sylvia readily quits the men in black at some point between meeting wander and meeting major threat, but she retains the skills that made her such a good fit for it. and now, she doesn't have to wear those awful shoes that she hates.

honestly it's taken me so long to come up with something for it because, like i've said before, the wander over yonders are just kind of. backstory-less, largely. we get just enough backstory to want to know more, like with major threat and wander One Thousand Years Ago Exactly and sylvia's past as a bounty hunter, but. like. not much more than that.

and a lot of that has to do with the programming slot this show was given and how little time it actually spent on the air, like a lot of things, but also, y'know. tone. the show is aaaaaalmost a pure comedy, which i love it for, and the bits of tragedy and lore are almost always undercut with n jokes per minute. which!! again!!11! i like! i think it's fun and i like to be happy and have fun. and it also makes those moments of Ohhhh Ouchie my Feelings hit that much harder to have them entirely surrounded by peace love and funny joke.

so anyway. i kinda fear this backstory is just a little too #serious and makes too little #sense to me, but it's the closest i've come to something that makes sense for how wander turned out in the au. Shrugs. We shall see.

and all of this is from a little blurb i wrote for fun so like Please Dont Think This Is The Final Decision please. ill probably change All of this in some way or another bc i fear this gives sylvia very little time to be happy and i want her. to be happy. at some point. i need her to be happy more.