#I’ve never had such a reaction like that while playing

[aro-tarot]

I stayed up a bit longer since I finally got back to playing my gnome bard, my first character in BG3. Stopped the serial killer first since I heard you have to watch the long rests with that.

But then after I did Astarion’s quest. Stayed up a bit longer because of that.

And like, it’s one thing to watch the cutscenes in videos and to actually, like, play it. Even after seeing all the cutscenes, it still made me emotional watching it all. Can’t imagine how much more it might have been if it was my sorcerer who I’ve been playing more lately, and besides cutting a drow’s head off to deliver to be fertilizer, she’s more softer than my bard that started silly and started growing more caring as the story went on.

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. TOUCH

Just back into it, and let it touch

JJK MEN & THEIR REACTIONS TO YOU USING THEIR CROTCH TO SHOW OFF YOUR NAILS

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, & takuma ino.

cw: modern au (?), suggestive content (ofc) ooc characters(?), reader being a little shit, etc.

i’ve always found this tiktok trend adorable, and thought it would be nice to write hcs on with them. these are unedited so excuse typos and other mistakes. i might do more later.

KASHIMO HAJIME.

the nail designs you chose were cute, but a little cheesy. a simple cyan base with purple lighting bolts on each ring finger.

you came back from the shop to spot kashimo resting on your couch, clearly tired from either fighting a curse or general working out. you tapped him, showcasing your nails the moment you got his attention. hajime would only give you a small smirk, leaning his head back again to rest.

the idea would then pop into your head, softly declaring you needed to take a picture to show your friend. he didn’t care enough to respond.

but, that quickly changed when you sat beside him, resting your hand right on his crotch.

what are you doing?

you shushed him a bit, declaring his white pants were a perfect background. a plausible excuse, one that he believed less and less when he realized you were massaging him through his pants.

he allowed it to go on for a moment before he snatched your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

don’t start something you can’t finish, [y/n].

and well, you spent the rest of that evening facing the consequences of your actions. you never did send that picture.

GOJO SATORU.

probably asked you to get his tip color. you refused, much to his dismay.

you settled on a pretty blue and white design, curtesy of his eyes and hair. you sent a picture of it to him while in the shop; your lover hearting the image instantly.

on the way home, you were scrolling through your tiktok feed and came across the trend. a cheshire like grin covered your features soon after.

making it home, gojo wasn’t busy with anything, simply sitting on the couch and watching some random show. he greeted you and attempted to get touchy, only for you to declare you had to take a picture of your nails first.

just use the one you sent me?

no, baby, i wanna use a different one.

although confused, the man shrugged a bit, focus turning back to the tv. you sat on the couch beside him, humming as your phone hovered above your hand that rested on your thigh. taking a quick glance to assure he wasn’t looking, you reached over, placing your hand right on his crotch.

gojo noticed you instantly, eyes falling from the tv screen and over to your hand, eyebrows pinched close. he said nothing however, simply watching you closely. the moment you began to rub him, however, he was adjusting his hips eyes lifting to yours, adoring an are you serious? expression.

what’s wrong? you tried to play dumb, all while your hand still moved, not so secretly anymore. gojo would only grin at you, pretty dimples exposed, turning back to the tv.

nothing.

in that moment his hand reached over to your bare thigh, gently tapping it; fingers stroking the inside of them.

this had now became a game of who would crack first.

and much to your dismay, you always did.

GETO SUGURU.

your choice of design was a black base with his initials on each ring finger. when sending a picture to the man he complimented them, and was clearly happy his name was on your fingers.

you had been planning to do the trend on him the moment you saw it, booking an appointment the next day. you just wanted to see his reaction, to see if your normally calm and collected boyfriend would react differently.

you were basically rushing into the house the moment you locked your car, entering to spot him on the couch reading a book. you two greeted each other with a soft kiss the moment you walked over.

you really like my nails, suguru?

mhm.

lemme show gojo. you hummed, pulling your phone from your pocket. you bit the inside of your cheek, reaching over and planting your hand right on his crotch. you felt his eyes on you for a moment before they drifted back to his book. which, frustrated you.

and so, you adjusted your hand, a false mumble of needing a better angle exiting you. except the adjusting didn’t stop, seeing as you began to gradually rub your palm up and down his crotch.

you jumped a bit as he shut his book closed, grabbing your wrist and pushing it against his hardening length even more.

now, you deal with it? understand?

NANAMI KENTO.

much to nanami’s embarrassment, you used his tip color. he tried to talk you out of it, but it happened. how they color matched it was above him. and why you did such a thing was above him as well. but, he did have to admit the nails were still pretty.

when you got home the man was busy with some paperwork at his desk, grumbling to himself every once in a while. you walked over with a gentle smile, watching his tense shoulders fall the moment you made your presence known.

you then showed off your nails, nanami simply shaking his head with a smile.

you got a bit needy the moment his eyes turned back to his desk however, biting the inside of your cheek before a brilliant idea popped into your mind. you find a chair beside his desk, scooting a bit close to his own. which wasn’t suspicious, you did that often.

what was suspicious was you reaching over, placing your hand onto his crotch.

[y/n]…

just trynna get a good picture. your pants are the perfect color. the excuse left you quickly, hearing the man sigh softly to himself but allowing your hand to remain there.

that was until, you began to carefully slide your hand up and down his crotch— back and forth. nanami didn’t left it go on for long before he was grabbing you by the forearm, pulling you up from your chair and over to his lap.

oh, ken, your paperwork..

that can wait. can’t ignore you when you’re being so damn needy..

TAKUMA INO.

to ino’s surprise, you somehow got your nail lady to carefully draw his masked face on your ring finger. the moment you sent the picture he was amazed and very happy. something you found adorable.

so of course you decided to toy with him.

coming home you spotted the man not really doing anything, simply resting on the couch. he smiled up at you, eyes following you as you walked over to sit beside him. his arm came to wrap around you, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment; simply watching tv.

until you swore softly, pulling your phone from your pocket. gotta take a picture for a friend.. you would mumble, something ino barely acknowledged.

the moment your hand was on his crotch, however, his eyes fell from the tv quickly, staring down at your hand.

uh, y/n…

sorry baby, just gotta use your pants. you claimed, the man muttering nervous ok, going completely still— clearly not wanting to mess up your photo. you smiled at this, nearly feeling bad for what you were about to do to him.

slowly you carried your palm up and down his crotch, feeling the hand on your hip twitch. continuing the facade, you tilted your phone every so often, attempting to find the correct position; all while poor ino attempted to calm his rising hard on. he tried so hard too.

just as you felt his hard length through his sweats, you snapped a photo, rising from the couch— placing a chaste kiss to his cheek on the way.

thanks baby, imma take a quick shower.

needless to say, ino was a bit confused and disappointed, only able to give you a small nod— watching you walk away. ignorant to the fact you were holding in your laughter.

[yyokkki]

The Prefect's Laugh

Dropping this monstrosity i wrote in September 2023 because I feel like I'm never going to leave this fandom.

First Years x gn! Prefect

Warning: I haven't played chapter 7, Prefect has a distinct personality so it doesn't really count as x reader but some people could find them relatable, a jumble of canon and non-canon events, mild cursing?

Divider by @saradika

It wasn’t that the Prefect never smiled. In fact, they may have smiled a little too often. It could be as simple as a wordless greeting or as complex as a way to cope with fear, but there was one particular expression the first years saw only once in a blue moon. The smile that comes alongside a fit of laughter.

The first time Ace saw the infamous Ramshackle Prefect smile like that was not too long after they had first met. It was a day or two after Heartslabyul’s housewarden overblotted and they’d finally gotten the rose garden in order.

While chatting about that day’s happenings, a rather embarrassing detail was brought up (embarrassing to Ace at least).

“Can we, like, NOT talk about this anymore??”

“I mean, the housewarden was really going in on you and you just stood there and took it but as soon as he said those things about the Prefect’s parents you didn’t even hold back. It’s weirdly sweet of him, right?”

Deuce looked towards the Prefect for their input to which they replied by fervently nodding their head.

“Wow, who could’ve guessed that maybe THE Ace Trappola cares about his friends??”

“…Honestly would’ve believed you more if you said you did it just to prove you could.”

“Pfft-“

Ace’s head whipped to the side, and he stared at the blooming smile on the Prefect’s face. Crinkled eyes, a hand in front of their mouth and slightly flushed cheeks as they tried to hold in their chuckles.

He wanted to make a snarky comment, something like, ‘I’ve been trying to make you laugh for the past two weeks and THIS Is what makes you break?’

Instead, what came out of his mouth was… Silence.

Maybe the new expression was too shocking as he just stared, five parts confusion, three parts embarrassment, two parts bashfulness. The most he could get out of them even with the most well-crafted jokes were slight smirks and yet something Deuce said without even intending to be funny made them crack.

He felt wronged.

And flustered.

…Shit, why are they kinda cute.

Going back to before the overblot, a day that Deuce personally considers more traumatising than his own housewarden’s mental breakdown.

Sorrowfully gazing upon the carnage of eggshells, whites and yolks jumbled up in the plastic bag branded with the words, Mr. S’ Mystery Shop, Deuce gave out another wistful sigh.

“I just hope those chicks can rest in peace.”

“…You know those eggs don't hatch into chickens, right?”

Shocked, flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stunned, stupefied, bowled-over; all words that could be used to describe Deuce Spade’s current state of mind.

“Wh- WHAT??? YOU’RE KIDDING.”

While Deuce was having an epiphany about the eggshell-shocking revelation, he noticed the Prefect’s slightly hunched over back and trembling frame. He was about to go comfort them when he saw their face…

And heard their laughter, ringing out like the sound of wind chimes swaying with the summer breeze, despite it being mid-September.

“YOU’RE LAUGHING???”

He looked at them with five parts feelings of betrayal, three parts despair and two parts anger. He was so offended that he immediately stormed off with the grocery bags in hand, huffing and puffing as he went on his unmerry way.

It wasn’t until later that the Prefect started feeling guilty about their reaction to the incident. It kind of felt like telling a little kid Santa wasn’t real…

They apologised, got him a book about the evolution of egg production, hugged it out and all was forgiven.

It wasn’t until much much later that Deuce Spade realised, he had only seen the Prefect laugh a handful of times, that incident taking up one of the spaces.

It had grown to become one of his favourite sounds in the world.

Jack Howl was never one for bad jokes or witty banter. Whenever he and the Prefect stood together, besides looking like a sturdy tree next to a swaying flower, they didn’t look friendly- much less like friends.

Only the two of them understood the solidarity that came with the silence. They were each others go-to when the other first years got too rowdy.

Truly the mom and dad of the group.

They would occasionally engage in conversation. Somehow when they were together, asking about each other’s day would lead to which parts of home they missed most now that they were away or embarrassing childhood memories, they hadn’t told anyone else about.

It was on a day like any other, a long while after the deep sea overblot.

Jack and the Prefect had finally started speaking to each other comfortably, yet most of their time together was spent just existing in the same room, doing their own thing.

It wasn’t awkward, at least not to the Prefect. But they had to ask just in case.

“Hey, do you ever feel like we don’t really talk when we hang out?”

“…Well, we are at the library.”

“I mean at other places too.”

Jack looked up from his notes, glancing at the Prefect with a little apprehension tracing his features.

“Why? You find it weird?”

“No, I like it a lot, just- I’m not used to it you know? Whether it’s the friends I’ve made here or my friends from back home they’ve never been the type to let the room stay quiet for over five seconds.”

They shifted slightly to cast an inquisitive glance over at him, “I can’t tell if you mind or not.”

Against his very own will, Jack’s tail started flowing slightly. So, they like being around him?

“I feel the same as you. I like our time together.”

Realising he sounded a little too soft, he immediately started backpedalling.

“Not that that means anything. I enjoy spending time with many people, doesn’t make you special.”

After finishing his piece, Jack looked back down at his notes, playing it cool. His tail, however, betrayed his feelings.

"Pfhaha, so cute, it’s like a helicopter-“

“…”

Not knowing how to defend himself, Jack got up to sit across the Ramshackle Prefect, blocking their view of his tail but giving him the perfect angle to catch all their expressions.

…It may be a little too late for him.

It all started with a godforsaken game of PG rated chicken.

Epel Felmier didn’t know whose dumb idea it was to hold a competition like this among all the first years but damn was he killin’ it.

It was almost too easy. It made him feel conflicted. Should he be happy that he’d somehow reached the finals? Or mad that it’s all cause of his face and build?? Either way, the prize was too good to pass up so he was gonna win.

So far he’d been flyin’ through with direct eye contact and a smile or two if his opponents were tougher but the final round had been filling him with a weird sense of dread, so he decided to prepare a little somethin’ special this time.

He doubted he’d have to use it though; he didn’t think very highly of the kids at NRC in this specific department…

That being until he got a text from the organiser telling him who his opponent was, that being: the Ramshackle Prefect.

Well shit.

He knew they never judged anybody, including him, for their appearance, and he’d always appreciated them for that. But in this context, it would make ‘em a tough nut to crack.

Not even mentioning, they knew his weakness when he didn’t have theirs.

He immediately pulled down their chat and started typing ferociously.

‘you. me. ramshackle lounge. after school. please?’ And send.

Might as well get a practise round in to scope the waters.

Luckily, the Prefect considered him a friend and wasn’t overly cautious, so not long after the text was sent an ‘ok’ was promptly sent back.

As soon as school let out, Epel ran into the Prefect in the mirror chamber, and they embarked towards Ramshackle dorm together.

He’d informed them of his intentions while on the way, so they got started after arriving.

First, he tried his usual techniques despite knowing they wouldn’t work. As expected, the Prefect didn’t so much as flinch.

Then they smiled warmly at him.

“Your training has been working out really well, I can see a little more definition on your arms. How do you even do it? What you lack in a natural constitution is already being made up for by your will and perseverence! It's really rare to find people like you out there.”

Shit, a genuine compliment about his mental and physical growth! That’s critical damage, how could they be so dirty, using his weakness against him?

Well, if that’s how they’re gonna play it.

Epel held up his two hands in front of him, forming a heart with his fingers.

The Prefect looked unfazed. They just smiled at him, mockingly (Epel’s perception).

Fine. He’s been left with no choice but to pull out his secret weapon.

“I-If you were a fruit, you’d be a FINEAPPLE!” Absolutely humiliating.

But also absolutely effective.

The Prefect’s mask started cracking at its seams.

“F-fineapple? I never thought I'd ever hear you say anything like that- Pfft hehe-“

He'd won, but his face was as red as his namesake as the visage of his Prefect’s tinted cheeks and choked back giggles entered his heart.

On the day of the competition, he lost miserably. The Prefect ended up passing the prize onto him, claiming they were only participating for fun, but he wasn’t really upset.

It’s for the best that no one else sees that face anyways.

Sebek Zigvolt’s sole purpose for living is to serve his young master as a reliable retainer.

In order to be reliable, he must excel in both academics and athletics. Athletics weren’t worth mentioning and he found all academic subjects easy enough.

All except for art, that is.

Making use of a medium to place your creative vision onto a surface sounded simple, yet the product had never lived up to his expectations, creating a habit of casting fire spells to burn the causes of his shame.

After yet another round of sweeping up the ashes of a canvas, he’d decided enough was enough. As unbecoming as it was, a good retainer would ask for help when he really needed it.

And he really really needed it.

His next course of action was to head over to the staff room and inquire with the Art professor for private lessons, only to be told that she had no empty slots in her schedule.

“If you don’t mind learning from another student, I recommend asking the Ramshackle Prefect to tutor you. They’re one of the best among their peers and I’ve seen them offering help to other students during my classes so I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

That magicless human? He’d only ever spoken two or three sentences to them, and he couldn’t stand the uncouth beast following them around every hour of the day, but if they truly were one of the best…

Thus started a deal he would come to regret in the future.

The Prefect wasn’t a bad teacher. They’d gotten him to start on the basics before even thinking of the elaborate portraits he’d always been hellbent on doing.

Once he’d finally grasped the techniques needed, he immediately jumped onto the opportunity to paint his young master, using one of his sacred wallet sized photos as reference. The Prefect stood beside him the whole time, pointing out mistakes and fixing any parts he deemed unsatisfactory.

The only qualm he had was that they’d protested to his idea to paint a wall sized mural, stating that it was too advanced.

With a beautiful portrait in tow, he returned and hung it up near his shrine. It couldn’t compare to his young master’s radiance but it had been the best thing he’d ever painted and he was felling pleased with himself.

An idea came over him. He wouldn’t have been able to do this without their help after all…

And that was what led to him showing up at Ramshackle outside of lesson hours with a small canvas nervously clenched in his hands.

“Human. It didn’t turn out as well without your guidance, but this is a little token of appreciation for your help these past few weeks.” He pushed the portrait into the Prefects hands, ready to accept criticism.

“…”

“Human..?”

“…Pffhehe-, I never expected you to do something so heartfelt for a ‘dumb human’. Heh, I guess I really grew on you!”

“Why are you laughing?! ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME??”

If he had his sword on him he would be unsheathing it right now.

“No, no, thanks man, I love it.”

The brightest and most genuine smile he’d ever seen from them blossomed.

He felt his face burn and his heartbeat rise to an abnormal degree as the Prefect’s warm gaze felt as though it were boring into him.

…I must inquire with Master Lilia what hex this human has placed upon me. Right this instant!

[vampirehoon]

w.c. ⟢ 1.1k

pairing ⟢ husband!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis ⟢ it’s been a battle between your new kitten and your husband, sunghoon being bothered by the bundle of joy and him not understanding “shoo” and understanding “play”. one evening it is apparent that sunghoon wasn’t adoring his son which you have to make him understand that he is a cat dad now.

a/n ⟢ hi! i’m new to this fanfiction world on tumblr but from the looks of liking of my last post i thought to try and post a longer fic i’ve been working on. thank you so(x2) much for the likes and i hope i can create some more content for the engenes to read. thx again! ✮⋆˙

ᨐฅ

“love, could you grab this cat?” your husband calls from his office, his voice communicating irritation.

you head into his office from the kitchen to witness the cutest interaction. sunghoon is trying to shoo away your new family member but the kitten thinks he’s playing with him.

you make your way over to them, kneeling beside sunghoon’s arm chair.

“you know,” you hold the kitten in your hands. “he is your son.”

sunghoon scoffs. “he looks nothing like me.”

“oh really?” you turn your head, repositioning yourself to be turned towards him.

the kitten sits in your hands as you raise him to be right up to sunghoon’s cheek. their cute faces are identical. you fond over the resemblance.

“identical.” you smile ear to ear.

sunghoon watches at you, admiring secretly. he doesn’t let that adorable smile on your face ruin his stubbornness.

“son’s take after their mothers.” your heart flutters, only slightly, as sunghoon takes the kitten into his hold. His hands could almost crush him but his hold is gentle. same as you did to him, he presses the cat up against your cheek, amused already.

he nods to himself while he ping pongs his eyes between you two.

“same nose,” He taps both of your noses.

“same eyes,” He looks at both of your eyes.

“same whiskers.” he plays with the kittens, and pretends you have them as well.

“whiskers?!” you scoff, which sunghoon broke into an adorable laugh when he realized he teased you successfully.

you steal the kitten back.

“you meanie.” you give his shoulder a soft push before striding away, offended.

“you enjoy it.” you hear the smirk in his voice as your back is turned.

“yeah right.” you return back to the kitchen, definitely sulking, and letting your kitten sit on the counter top with you. you pet the kitten and he purrs as you mumble that you don’t and will never have whiskers.

later in the evening, sunghoon had finished his work in his office and came out to find you preparing dinner. you looked huggable but he knew he couldn’t startle you so he asked what you were making before he approached.

“something simple.” you kept it simple in replying as well. sunghoon could tell he bothered you earlier and eased his way over behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on the shoulder.

“forgive me, my love.” he says this with a deep sigh. the last thing he’d want to cause is an argument between the two of you or a distance. he loves to get a rise of you and see your cute reactions but he knows he can be unaware of how it affects you.

and that is why you’re always back in his arms every night, kissing his moles and insisting that he’s the most perfect human being. you turn your head to meet his lips, kissing him sweetly. a kiss where you close your eyes to really feel each other’s lips. you speak over his lips, the breath tickling his lips. “i always do.” and another peck, just for good measure.

sunghoon knew you were watching what you were cooking but couldn’t help wanting to kiss you longer and somewhere more comfortable.

his hands took your legs to lift you on his hips. you held your legs around his back and had your hands grip the back of his neck. he walked you from the kitchen to the couch, ignoring the dinner plans, and made you lay down below him.

you looked unreal. the moonlight shined through the windows of the living room and painted you a soft blue with the moon in your eyes. he wouldn’t have been able to let himself stop if it wasn’t for a cry from the bedroom.

groaning, sunghoon drops onto in the couch, letting you run to get him but you dragged him with you. sunghoon and you end up at the door, your kitten was crying for his parents. sunghoon focused his eyes on where the kitten was and it was crawling from his side of the bed with what looks like a small blanket covering him.

to say he was unimpressed that a cat got its own blanket before he fully ever got one at night was an understatement. H

he scoffed at the kitten’s baby treatment.

“he has his own bed, love.” and in your defense, you let sunghoon know it was just this one time.

you go claim your kitten and hand him over to sunghoon.

“take him to his water bowl or our dinner is going to be ruined.” you smiled softly at the two of them and patted sunghoon’s shoulder as you walked past him in the doorframe to get back to the vegetables.

now father and son are sitting at the water bowl. sunghoon watches as the kitten’s tail wiggles when he drinks. sunghoon laughs to himself, pulling out his phone to take a video. dinner is ready and you wipe your hands dry and go to call over sunghoon but catch the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

sunghoon’s tapping his nails on the ground like a spider for the kitten to attack. smiling brightly at the cat he, earlier, wasn’t the biggest fan of. this sure brings tears to your eyes. you speak up a big grin.

“father-son bonding time i see?” you tease, expecting sunghoon to get defensive but he picks up the kitten and makes his way over to you.

“i guess i never understood cats. they are quite cute.” he places the innocent fur ball on the counter and watches it walk, being extra cautious of the edge of the counter.

you have never been so proud to see this flip in him. you come around the counter and plant a kiss on his cheek.

“i knew you’d come around, you’re a natural.” sunghoon kisses you back and you two begin dinner.

the night ended with sunghoon putting the sleeping kitten to bed, placing the tiny blanket over him. he crawls into bed and into your arms. like tradition, you run your fingers through his hair and kiss his moles.

“i. love. you.” spacing the sentence with kissing a new mole. sunghoon hums with a soft smile. he opens his eyes slowly and gazes up at you. adoring his wife in front of him, he takes his fingers behind your ear to push back your hair and gently rubs your cheek.

“i love you so much.” “and your ability to keep me this in love with you.” sunghoon said as he leans into you. your noses brushing against each other as you stop right before connect his lips with yours.

“you’re the hottest cat dad i know.” you say, to possibly continue the kiss that could have happened on the couch.

“oh really?” the way he spoke those words sent chills down your spine and giggles up your throat. he meet your lips, kissing them satisfyingly.

𓉸ྀི ©vampirehoon

[milkywaygalaxygurl]

Sleepy Whispers - Art Donaldson

Request: cuddling with art, I see him talking about his and reader's future, how he'd definitely be a girl dad and he'd totally spoil his little princess and just major fluff yk, art's getting sleepy and reader’s just playing with his hair

i really hope y’all like this one, i love writing this kind of fluff and i just know art would be the cutest in a situation like this:’)

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader

Warnings: talk of starting a family, suggestive flirting, nothing else really lol this is just fluffy:)

Word Count: 663

Laying in bed with Art had to be one of your favorite things in the world. Especially when he’s sleepy like this, his usual clinginess amplified and his sleepy grins making you swoon. It was nice to see Art relaxed, it felt like he was always so focused on being an amazing tennis player that he often forgot to take a second to breathe and think about something else.

Seeing him like this, his head resting in your lap and his eyes shut in pure bliss made you fall even more in love with him. You’re staring down at him when his eyes open, his lips splitting into a cheeky grin. “What are you staring at?”

“My handsome and amazing boyfriend.” You pretend not to notice the way his cheeks tinge pink, but it has to be one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen. He sits up from your lap and you whine, asking him where he’s going.

“Calm down, I just wanna look at you better.” He laughs, moving behind you. You squeal as he pulls you into his lap, slapping his chest when you’re finally settled and straddling him.

“You could’ve told me to move, you didn’t have to manhandle me.” You pout at him and he laughs, shaking his head.

“I thought you liked me manhandling you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you gasp, swatting him on the chest again. He laughs, shaking his head at your dramatic reaction.

You stay like that for a while, admiring each other in a comfortable silence. Your hips eventually start to hurt from the way you’re sitting so, much to Art’s amusement, you flop beside him. He giggles as he turns on his side to look at you, a lovesick look in his eyes.

“Do you ever think of starting a family?” The question comes out of the blue, your eyebrows raising as you look at him.

“Honestly, yeah. Especially with you.” You say it sheepishly, your cheeks tinging pink at the admission.

“So you think about fuc-”

You cut him off before he can even finish speaking, “Art don’t you dare ruin this cute moment.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry. I think about starting a family with you too. We’d obviously have to get married first, but I definitely see that happening in the future.” His words make your heart flutter, you’d never really talked about this with Art before.

“How many kids would you want?” Your hand finds its way to his hair, your fingers brushing through the blonde locks. He hums softly, his eyes shutting.

“One or two, but I don’t care how many we have as long as we have a daughter.” His words make you chuckle and he halfway open his eyes to give you a questioning look.

“I’ve always imagined you as a girl dad when I would think about our future. I can see you spoiling her, making sure she has everything she could want and more. Playing dress up with her, going to daddy-daughter dances. You’d treat her like a little princess.”

He grins, nodding his head with his eyes still closed. “You’d be my queen and she’d be our princess. You guys wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”

You can tell he’s nearly half asleep from the way he’s talking, his words slightly slurred. One of the many things you loved about Art is that he’d almost always be out like a light if you ran your fingers through his hair.

Before you can even open your mouth to respond, he’s snoring softly. You giggle, shaking your head. You shuffle closer towards him and he instinctively reaches out for you, pulling you into his chest. You close your eyes, a small smile on your face as you fantasize about the family you’d one day have with Art.

[torialefay]

Do You Want to Try?

daddy!chan x virgin!reader smut 🔞

✨synopsis: chan makes sure you feel comfortable during your first time <3

✨request from: @whatudowhennooneseesyou

✨ word count: ~3.4k

✨warnings: this is literally just smut, so minors dni; uses nicknames like daddy and babygirl, but this is NOT meant to in any way mirror a DD/LG scenario… absolutely no age play here

• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.

~

~

• The two of you had been together for a couple of months. With Chan being the gentleman he is, he never explicitly brought up sex, although you could tell he wanted to.

• You weren’t oblivious to the way he would creep his hand up your thigh and hold it there, right on the inside. Sometimes he would lightly squeeze and pretend he wasn’t watching you to gage your reaction.

• Sometimes he would go as far as to walk up behind you while you were in the kitchen cooking, holding onto you from behind and pressing his growing boner against you.

• You knew what he wanted, but you also knew he’d never explicitly bring it up unless you gave him some sort of a signal.

• What Chan didn’t know is that you were a virgin.

• Were you embarrassed? Maybe a little. You knew you didn’t need to be. Chan would never judge you for something like that… And it wasn’t like he didn’t have his sneaking suspicions about it.

• He knew he made you red and nervous when he would act up around you. He thought it was way too cute. It honestly made him want to get you flustered even more. Teasing you and making subtle remarks with the tiniest hints of want in them.

• But you’d still never said it aloud. Until one day, you couldn’t help it.

• STAYs thirsted over Channie like none other. You didn’t mind it much because… hey, he’s the hottest thing ever. But after reading one post in particular, you got a bit of inspiration. It started to make you think… What if Chan really didn’t mind? What if he could show you the ropes.

• The thread was talking about Chan being into the “daddy” kink, and how he’d be very dominant but loving. It got you thinking if it was really true. And the more you thought about it, the more you wanted to test it. You couldn’t help but get a little wet thinking about him getting horny for you anyways.

• So you decided to try your best to push the nerves beside you and let yourself try something new.

• When Chan came home, you’d been waiting for him in the bedroom. Normally, you’d have been in the kitchen or the living room, so he didn’t expect to find you here. He especially didn’t expect you to be sitting on the bed as soon as he stepped in the door, pulling for his hand to bring him closer to you.

• “Channie, can you sit with me for a second?” you asked as you pulled him right to you. A look of worry spread across his face. Instead of sitting on the bed next to you, he opted to kneel right in front of you on the floor so his face could be right in front of yours.

• “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked.

• “I need to tell you something. It’s something I should have talked to you about a long time ago, but I was embarrassed.”

• “Alright, what is it?”

• “Well, I… Well you probably already figured it out, but I’ve never really had sex before…” you looked toward the corner of the room, too nervous to make eye contact with him. “And I just want you to know that I’ve been picking up on your signals, but I’ve just never done anything like that before and I really don’t know what I’m doing. Or even where to start.”

• Chan squeezed your hand, and stroked around it with his thumb, signaling for you to look back at him.

• “Do you want to try?” Chan asked, watching you wiggle on the bed, his eyes growing big.

• “I think so… I think you’d make me feel comfortable. If you’ll walk me through it?” you got the courage to say.

• Chan took your face in his hands. “Of course I will, sweetheart.” He planted a kiss to your cheek.

• As he backed his face up, he grinned.

• “And Channie, one more thing?”

• “Yes?” He leaned back until he was situated again kneeling on the ground.

• “Would you like it if I called you Daddy?”

• He smiled for a split second, not believing what he’d just heard.

• “Oh baby girl,” he said, lifting himself to his feet. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on the bed. “You don’t even know,” he smiled and threw his body down next to you. He moved himself closer into you so he could kiss your neck.

• This, you were used to. Things had gotten steamy before, but it never led past kissing. This you knew you could do well. You laid back and enjoyed the sensation of his lips connected to your neck.

• “Alright baby, I’m gonna move my hands around you a little bit. If there’s something you don’t like, you let me know and we’ll stop, okay?” He breathed out.

• Getting bolder now, knowing he was thoroughly enjoying giving this new experience to you, you replied back. “Yes daddy.”

• Chan must have really liked that, responding by biting down into your neck. The pain was there, but it was more pleasure than anything. You loved the way it felt.

• Chan slowly moved his hands along your body. Starting at your waist, he traced up and down your hips as he leaned up to join his lips with yours. He crept his hands slowly along the outline of your body until they were resting lightly over your boobs. He gave one a light squeeze and waited for your response.

• You let out a tiny moan, encouraging him to give you more. It felt good to have him massage you so gently. You always thought of sex as something to be nervous about, but maybe with Chan’s it would just be something to focus on making you feel taken care of.

• You felt as Chan started massaging harder and squeezing around, moving to the other breast.

• “Is it okay if I go under your shirt baby?” He asked.

• You nodded in response, not sure if you could really form sentences during this yet.

• He snaked his hand underneath the fabric and let it slide up your stomach until he reached the top of your bra. Scooping his hand around the top and under your boob, he gently moved the fabric of the bra to the side, exposing your breast slightly.

• Not daring to move his lips off of yours again, he slowly moved his fingers around your nipple, letting it get hard from the sensation. And you had to admit, it felt damn good. Slowly, he worked his way up to rubbing harder before taking it in between his fingers and rolling it around. You moaned at how good the pressure felt. You felt Chan smile, breaking the kiss.

• As he moved his hand to begin on the other breast, he moved his head to rest beside yours.

• “Daddy wants to watch you now, okay? I need to see your pretty face to make sure you like it.”

• “Okay,” you got out sheepishly. Suddenly, you felt a bit self-conscious knowing that Chan was going to be watching your every move. You tried to sink down into the mattress to ignore it and instead focus on the feeling of Chan on your other breast. He rubbed and pinched and rolled his fingers around under you were writhing underneath him.

• He let out a small chuckle at how cute you looked. “Feel good baby?”

• “Yes daddy.”

• “How about we get these clothes off of you? I’ll be careful and we’ll go slow, okay?”

• You nodded in agreeance. Chan took that as his cue to raise himself up off the bed and take his time with lifting your shirt off of you. He took special care as he reached around you to unclasp your bra at the back, digging his hands into the mattress to get there and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t want you to have to lift a finger.

• He slid your pants down and off of you, hooking your underwear as well so that they went with the rest.

• You felt so exposed like this. Completely naked in front of someone for the first time. It was scary, and Chan could pick up on that feeling.

• “Don’t be nervous baby, you are so so beautiful,” he said, sliding his body back to lie down next to yours. One arm held him propped up on an elbow, leaving the other to rub up and down your body.

• “Can daddy move down lower now?” He asked, once he’d settled in right next to your ear, planting small kisses to the outside of it.

• “Mmhmm,” you managed to get out.

• Chan walked his hand down to your pussy, making sure to massage all around the area before focusing in on your middle. Once he got there, he stopped himself. “This is going to make you feel good, okay? I need you to tell me when it starts feeling good, and I’ll keep doing that. Got it?”

• You writhed underneath him in anticipation. “Got it.”

• “Good girl,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your earlobe. He let a couple of fingers work themselves between your folds, admiring quickly how wet you were for him.

• “Do you feel how wet you are? That’s so good honey. I’m so proud of you.”

• You blushed in response, focusing on the feeling of his finger tips.

• He worked them slowly to where he felt your clit. You jumped a little at the sudden sensitive feeling, not knowing how to respond.

• Chan chuckled. “That’s supposed to be the part that makes you feel good. Daddy’s gonna go slow, and you should start to feel it.” He didn’t ask for permission now.

• He slowly started to move his fingers up and down over your clit. You felt your breath hitch. He continued for a little while before beginning to rub small circles around it, sending you into overdrive. Your breath started to quicken.

• “Oh good girl,” he cooed down at you. “So that’s what you like, huh?” He beamed. “Does that feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

• “It feels so good Channie.”

• “Perfect,” he smiled into you. “Daddy’s gonna move down there to get a taste, okay? I promise I won’t stop making it feel good.”

• Chan continued to rub you in just the same way until he slid himself down to where his face was hovering just over your pussy. With his tongue stuck out, he made his way in, licking up and down the folds at first. He then moved to your clit, taking over his previous motions to begin with his tongue. He felt you jolt up slightly at the new feeling, letting out a slight moan in the process.

• He hummed into you in response, the vibrations making you feel a new sensation. You suddenly didn’t know why you’d been scared to tell him for so long. Feeling him wrap his tongue up in you was the most loving, erotic sensation you’d ever felt. And god, if it didn’t make you feel like the most special person in the world.

• “Keep your eyes on daddy,” Chan said. He wasn’t mean, but you knew better than to argue him. As you looked down, you almost came immediately at the sight. His curls were tousled in every direction as his hands splayed across your hips, holding you down into him.

• When his eyes came up to connect with yours, you wanted to jump out of your skin. The look on his face of watching you, knowing how good he was making you feel was overstimulating. He kept circling your clit at just the right pace. You were sure you were going to go over the edge any second.

• Your breathing started to pick up and you felt a twitch down your leg.

• Chan brought a finger up to push inside of you slowly, wanting to give you a tiny bit more stimulation. You could feel the small extra pressure it gave to you, and coupled with how sensitive you were, you were doing everything you could to hold on. It just felt too fucking good. You felt yourself lose all thoughts and begin to drift off.

• Chan disconnected his lips from your cunt for a single moment. “Cum for daddy, baby,” he instructed before going right back to his tiny circles on your clit. Looking at his face and hearing his demand was the last thing you needed to reach your climax. Your hands flew down to his hair to hold onto his head as your legs began to twitch around him and the warm feeling spread out from your clit to the rest of your body. You suddenly started to convulse around him, moaning out for him with every last breath. You couldn’t control yourself as Chan kept lapping at you, holding your hips down to make sure you didn’t miss out on any feeling of the pleasure he could give you.

• Once he was satisfied that you were done, he lifted his face from you and raised his body up until he was resting on his knees. He smiled down at you and how out of it you looked.

• “Mmm did that make you feel good, sweetheart?” He smiled, rubbing and massaging along your thighs. You didn’t even know how to respond to that considering the way he just made you feel. You just nodded your head and smiled, moving your arms to stretch them out over your head and then cover your face in slight embarrassment.

• “How about you let daddy stretch you out a little now?” He asked, already bringing his dick to your entrance to move it around against the wetness of your lips. “Come on, don’t cover that beautiful face. Let me see you.”

• You moved your hands and arms away from your face and brought them together, clasping to each other on your chest. Chan just smiled down, admiring how cute you looked for him.

• “That’s more like it… Now, I’m gonna start slow okay? You’ll let me know if it starts to hurt or if I’m going to fast?”

• “Yes…” you whispered out, not knowing if you were really ready or not.

• “Yes what?” he peered down, stern look now on his face.

• “Yes daddy.”

• With that, he slowly began to inch himself into you. One hand resting on your thigh, the other rested just at the underside of his dick to stabilize himself as he entered. He watched intently as your pussy slowly started to open up for him, making sure to go as slowly as he possibly could. Then he made sure to go back and fixate on your face, now with furrowed brows and lips parted open.

• He continued in silence until he was all the way in, letting himself rest inside for just a moment. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight,” he huffed out, throwing his head back. “I feel like if I start moving, I’m going to tear you apart.”

• He slowly moved himself back, centimeter by centimeter until he was pulled out of you, then slowly pushing back in. He continued this a couple more times until he could tell you were more comfortable. The look on your face had changed from uncertainty to one of actual pleasure. He could tell.

• “You’re taking me so well baby. I knew you’d be a good girl for me.” He finally let himself pull all the way back before ramming into you.

• You let out a loud moan in response, which only agged Chan on more.

• He started to thrust again, faster this time. “Oh, is that how my girl likes it? You like it like that, huh?”

• “Yes, Channie,” you moaned.

• “Ah ah ah,” he stopped pumping for a second.

• “I mean, yes daddy!” you breathed out again.

• With that, Chan picked back up, bringing himself in and out of you with a steadily quickening pace. You could tell he was getting worked up the more he pumped.

• He started to hump into it, more than just strokes now. He was getting deeper into you. You let out a rattling sigh at how good it felt.

• Something almost animalistic came over Chan. He almost looked like he wanted to consume you. His jaw locked and his eyes fixated on your face before spitting out at you every last thought he had in his mind.

• "You like it when your daddy fucks you like this, don’t you? You like letting daddy ruin you for anyone else. Being my good little perfect girl. So good for me, letting me fuck you however I want. You don’t want daddy to stop, do you?”

• At that, Chan started to pound into you, getting relentless now. His face was focused, almost looking mad. He hit the spot that you now knew would be the end of you. He kept hitting it and hitting it until you knew you weren’t going to be able to take it anymore.

• “No, don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you panted out. “Please don’t stop. It feels so good,” you were about to cry at this point, not recognizing this feeling. The feeling of breathlessness and pressure, building up, slowly working you to a point you weren’t yet familiar with.

• Chan began to moan violently, forcing himself into you with no remorse. He violently held onto your hips, slamming them down into him as he fucked you. He was going to make sure you felt all of them.

• “So good and tight… God.. FUCK,” he yelled, throwing his head back. He slammed himself in. “Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.. Don’t give into me yet. You can take it. Keep fucking taking it.” He fucked himself into your as hard and fast as he could, bottoming out every time. He hit way up into your cervix and for a moment, you thought you might pass out.

• “Fucking take it, princess. Fucking take me,” he yelled, not able to stop himself.

• “Yes daddy,” you replied back, borderline crying now. He was just too good. It was all way too good.

• Hearing your new name for him was the last thing he needed. “I’m cumming... Fuck I’m cumming. Holy shit,” Chan quickly pulled himself out of you, quickly jerking his dick back and forth as cum shot out of him and onto your stomach. "Fuckkkkkkk." He couldn’t help but moan the entire time, looking at how pretty you looked with his cum all over you.

• You winced underneath him, never having seen this sight before. This was the hottest you’d ever seen him. And to think, he was doing all of this over you.

• He stroked himself up and down until every last drop of cum was out, growling at the last few drops.

• “Shit baby, hold on just a second,” he said, once he’d finally caught his breath.

• He took a few steps to the bathroom, coming back with a wet cloth to clean you off with.

• As you also had finished catching your breath, he came back up to lay himself beside you, bringing the covers up with him. He raised your head up to extend his arm underneath, and then rested it back on top of him so that you were propped up into him.

• “I’m sorry baby, I should have asked you before doing all of that at the end. I don’t know what came over me. Was it okay? Did it feel okay?”

• You took a few seconds to look into his eyes, suddenly full of love and worry.

• “It was perfect Channie. You were perfect.” You smiled at him. He shot you a huge smile back, nuzzling his head into yours and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

• “I’m so glad. You were perfect for me too. I’m so honored I could be your first.”

• You thought your heart would explode from how much love you felt for this man.

• After giving you another kiss on the cheek and lying his head down to rest on top of yours, he whispered into you. “And hopefully I’m going to be your last too.”

———————————————————————————

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

✨ follow for more skz content like this (i take requests)

✨ check out my masterlist for more!

[reidsworld]

Beekeeping Age

Summary: Who knew having a crush on your best friends dad would turn out so good? Based on this request.

Pairing: Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Age Gap (25 and 55), Secret Relationship, not proofread

Mars speaks... Thank you so much for the request, I'm sorry it took me so long to respond! Also I'm pretty sure his daughter is like 19 but for the sake of this, she's like 25 lol.

Masterlist

You and Ava had met in your first year of university. She was studying communications, and you were pursuing cinema, but your friendship clicked immediately. Movie nights turned into inside jokes, and your shared love for Formula 1 only solidified the bond. By the time you were finishing your degree, her house felt like a second home.

And her dad? Well, Hugh Jackman was always around, friendly and easy to talk to. Over time, your admiration for him began to grow into something more, though you’d never admit it out loud… until one day, a TikTok joke set things in motion.

“You know what we should do?” Ava said, sitting beside you on the living room floor, phone in hand.

“What?”

“This audio!” She played a popular audio on tiktok about beekeeping age.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Seriously? You wanna do that?”

“Come on, it’ll be hilarious,” she said, nudging you playfully. “Besides, half the world already has a crush on my dad.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

With a laugh, you both set up the shot. Ava played the part of the daughter, gushing over her dad’s wholesome bee-keeping hobby, while you delivered the punchline.

When you finished recording, Ava burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was perfect.”

You laughed along, but you couldn’t help but feel the warmth creeping up your face. The joke hit a little too close to home. Ava raised an eyebrow, catching your expression.

“Wait…” she began, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You don’t actually—”

“What? No!” you quickly protested, but she kept laughing.

“Oh, come on. Everyone’s into him! I mean, he’s Hugh Jackman. It’s fine,” she teased.

You flushed but waved it off. She had no idea how much truth there was behind that joke.

A few days later, you found yourself chatting with Hugh after one of his early morning runs. You were both sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in comfortable silence.

“Ava tells me you’re a big F1 fan too.” Hugh said, glancing over with a grin.

“Yeah, I’ve been obsessed for years,” you said, grateful for the change in subject. “I actually studied cinematography partly because I loved the way F1 races are filmed.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “No kidding? I didn’t realize that’s what got you into it.”

You nodded, feeling more at ease. “I’ve always loved how dynamic the sport is—the speed, the angles, the tension.”

“Well,” Hugh said, leaning back in his chair, “speaking of F1, Ryan just gave me tickets to the next race with Alpine. I was thinking of taking Ava and… maybe you, if you’re interested?”

Your eyes widened in excitement. “Wait, really? You’re inviting me to watch the race from the garage?”

He chuckled at your reaction. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.”

The race weekend was a dream come true. Standing in the Alpine garage, so close to the action, was something you’d always fantasized about. Hugh was at your side, just as enthusiastic, and you found yourself growing more comfortable around him. As the weekend progressed, your conversations flowed effortlessly—from F1 to films to life, and everything in between.

By the end of the trip, there was an undeniable connection between the two of you. You couldn’t help but feel that spark.

What started as innocent conversations turned into something more over time. Hugh would call or text you when he wasn’t busy, and the two of you found more excuses to spend time together. Coffee runs became long walks, and movie nights became opportunities to hang out alone. It wasn’t long before you realized your feelings for him were deeper than a crush.

The sneaking around was thrilling, but it also felt right. You and Hugh kept things under wraps for a while, not wanting to complicate your friendship with Ava.

One evening, you were relaxing on the couch, scrolling through TikTok when an edit of Hugh popped up on your feed. It was a compilation of his movie moments, and you couldn’t help but smile at how good he looked in each clip. As the video played, you whispered to yourself, “He really is amazing…”

You didn’t notice Hugh walk into the room until he chuckled from behind you. Startled, you looked up, realizing he’d seen the reflection in your glasses.

“Why watch videos when you have the real thing right here?” he teased with a playful smirk.

You blushed, embarrassed. “I—uh, I wasn’t—”

But he just laughed and sat down beside you. “It’s alright. Still nice to know I’ve got some fans out there.”

Eventually, you both knew you couldn’t keep the relationship a secret forever. The guilt was starting to weigh on you, and Ava had always been too important to lie to.

Sitting in the kitchen one afternoon, you glanced at Hugh nervously. “I think it’s time we tell Ava.”

He nodded, though he looked just as apprehensive. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

You sat down with Ava, your heart pounding in your chest. “Ava, I need to talk to you about something important.”

She looked up from her phone, sensing the seriousness in your tone. “What’s going on?”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hugh before speaking. “I’ve been seeing someone… and it’s your dad.”

Her eyes widened, and the room fell silent. You could see the surprise and confusion on her face as she processed what you had said. The tension in the air was thick as you braced yourself for her reaction.

“This is… really weird,” she finally said, rubbing her forehead, “but I still love you guys. I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.” She looked between the two of you, a small smile forming. “Just treat him well, alright?”

Relief washed over you as the tension melted away. You hadn’t known what to expect, but Ava’s acceptance lifted a weight off your shoulders.

“I promise,” you said with a smile.

Mars speaks... Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is always appreciated 🫶

[theshift]

The Deal

It all started when I moved to a new city after college. I was lucky enough to land an entry-level job in HR, but the pay was dismal. Still, it was a fresh start—leaving my family and friends behind to carve out a new life. I knew that making friends quickly would be key to adjusting to this new chapter of my life, or I'd end up feeling pretty isolated. Fortunately, I hit it off with a coworker who invited me to play basketball at a local community group, and that's where I met Marco.

He caught my eye immediately—a man in his mid-forties, tall, fit, with a commanding presence. I played it cool, waiting for my coworker to introduce us. "Marco, meet my new friend Lukas," my coworker said. "He just moved here." Marco gave me a firm handshake, grinning. "Glad to have you, Lukas. But I’ve got one question—are you any good?"

I smirked, trying to play it cool. "Well, I guess you're about to find out."

I was humbled pretty quickly. Basketball was still new to me, and it showed. But Marco didn’t seem to care. Throughout the game, I’d catch him glancing at me, more interested in me than the game itself. As the game wrapped up, he called out smugly, "All talk for someone who didn’t even score once!" Exhausted and out of my depth, I just laughed. Afterward, Marco introduced me to his wife, Serena. They had been happily married for 21 years, since right out of college. It was a bit of a bummer finding out he was married, but I was happy to have found a group to hang out with—and Marco seemed really keen to get to know me.

Our friendship grew from there. We’d meet up sometimes for basketball practice, where he’d help me improve my skills. Eventually, our meetups turned into grabbing drinks together. Marco got me into craft beer, and as the months passed, we both started to open up. He told me about his life—how he owned a medical sales business, how well it was doing, and how he had two sons in college. He spoke glowingly of his wife, saying he knew he had met his soulmate. 

I shared my own struggles—how I was excited about starting my career, but also how tough it was financially. Marco gave me advice, encouraging me whenever I needed a boost.

One day, Serena was away on a business trip for the weekend, and Marco invited me over to watch a football game. After a couple of beers, Marco turned to me and, out of nowhere, said, "You know, Lukas, I’m kind of envious of you."

I blinked, surprised. "How come?"

He took another sip of his beer before responding. "No one knows this except you now, but... I’m bisexual. And while I’m grateful for the life I have, I’ve never had the chance to explore that side of myself. I wouldn’t ever jeopardize my marriage, but sometimes I do wish I could be with men."

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say. Marco looked at me, gauging my reaction, before continuing. "I know this may sound crazy, but I trust you, and I want to ask you a favor. Hear me out before you decide, okay?"

Curiosity piqued, I nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

"What if there was a way for me to explore this side of myself without breaking up my family? If you were me, would you take it?"

I paused, considering his words. "Yeah... I guess I would."

He seemed relieved and leaned in a bit. "Okay, this is where things get... weird. I’ve never told anyone this, but I have the ability to shapeshift. And I want to switch places with you. Just for a month."

I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what I’d just heard. He wasn’t joking—his expression was dead serious. "Wait, what? How... how do you even do that?"

Marco smiled slightly, held out his hand, and said, "Let me show you."

Hesitant but intrigued, I reached out and shook his hand. Suddenly, a bright light flashed from his palm, scanning my body. He let go, rubbed his hands together, and I watched, dumbfounded, as an exact replica of my body appeared in his hands like a skin suit. 

I was speechless.

Marco chuckled at my reaction. "So... I guess you’ve seen me naked now," I joked, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened.

"Yeah... I guess I have," he laughed.

He led me upstairs and laid out his entire plan. For one month, we’d switch places. I’d live his life—run his business, spend time with his family—while he experienced life as me, exploring his bisexuality in secret. His shapeshifting ability allowed him to perfectly mimic anyone he’d scanned, down to the last detail.

"But there are a few rules," he explained. "First, you cannot sleep with my wife. Second, you have to follow the business plan I leave you—no changes. And third, spend time with my sons when they come home for winter break. I’ll help guide you through it all."

"Marco, this is... this is overwhelming. I’m not sure I can pull it off," I admitted.

"You can. I trust you. And to sweeten the deal, I’ll pay you $10,000 for the month."

Ten grand? My heart raced. With that kind of money, I could get myself out of debt and start saving. After a long pause, I finally agreed. We shook on it.

I spent the next day tying up loose ends in my life, preparing for the swap. When I returned, Marco opened another beer for me. "Okay, Lukas, any rules you want for me?"

"Yeah, a few. First, you need to go to work—don’t slack off on that. Second, check in with my friends so they don’t worry. And third, don’t ruin my reputation, okay? I still want a chance at meeting someone after this is all over."

"Got it," Marco nodded. "I’ll be respectful."

He led me upstairs again, and I watched as he scanned himself. Another skin suit appeared—this time, an exact copy of Marco. He handed it to me, the lifeless face staring back. "Now, here’s the fun part," he said. "You’re going to put it on. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

The idea of slipping into Marco's life���literally—was still hard to grasp. As Lukas stood there in Marco's bathroom, holding the lifeless suit in his hands, the weight of what he was about to do hit him again. The room felt colder, or maybe it was just the suit, its unsettling coldness radiating through Lukas' fingers. He stared at Marco’s face—blank, eyeless, but unmistakably Marco—like it was staring back at him, waiting to be worn.

He hesitated, then, with a deep breath, he slipped one foot into the opening at the suit’s back. The texture of the suit was strange, like cool, stretched skin. His toes felt icy as they sank into the hollow mold of Marco’s feet. He adjusted his foot until it nestled into the curve of Marco's arch, and the sensation was surreal. He repeated the process with the other foot, each movement deliberate, each step pulling him deeper into the shift.

As he pulled the suit up over his legs, the sensation changed—his thighs merged with Marco’s thicker, more muscular frame. His skin prickled as the cold transformed into a warmth that began to wrap around him, like the suit was responding to him, molding itself to his body. His hands trembled when he reached Marco's waist, hesitating as he pulled it over his own. The suit was snug, unnervingly intimate as it slid over him, conforming to his body like a second skin. Lukas took a sharp breath when his own body began to feel distant, swallowed by the suit.

When it reached his chest, the suit tightened. It compressed his torso, his own wiry frame disappearing as Marco’s broader chest settled into place. He ran his fingers over Marco's pecs, feeling the unfamiliar bulk. It was his touch, but not his body. He twisted slightly, and the suit shifted seamlessly with him, no gap, no seam—only Marco.

His arms came next. Lukas felt the power in Marco’s forearms, thicker than his own, veins more prominent. He flexed his new fingers, watching in awe as they responded just like his own, but the shape was completely different—Marco’s hands, rougher, stronger, experienced.

Finally, there was the face—the final piece. Lukas hesitated for a moment, his reflection staring back at him, half Marco and half Lukas. The difference between the two was stark, like seeing a stranger staring back at him. He lifted the faceless mask of Marco and, with trembling hands, positioned it over his own. 

The sensation was like nothing he had ever felt before. The suit clung to his face, cool and slick, stretching over his features and fusing with his skin. As the mask settled, the fit was eerily perfect. His vision blurred for a moment as the world seemed to shift, and when he blinked, he wasn’t sure who he was anymore. Marco’s face looked back at him from the mirror, alive and breathing. He touched his cheek, feeling the unfamiliar roughness of Marco’s stubble beneath his fingers, and then ran his hand through Marco’s dark hair.

It was more than just a change of skin. He was Marco now—physically, at least. Lukas tilted his head, watching the reflection mimic him, then smiled. It wasn’t his smile. Marco’s grin was wider, more confident, almost cocky. Lukas admired the reflection longer than he expected, tracing the contours of Marco’s jaw, the way his shoulders filled out his new body. It felt powerful—alien and yet exhilarating.

He spoke, "Hello, I'm Marco Gonzales." The voice was deep, gruff—Marco’s voice, not his own. It reverberated in his throat, strange and foreign, yet perfectly natural coming from his lips. The reflection in the mirror and Lukas phone's camera spoke back, reinforcing the illusion.

Lukas could hardly believe it. He stared for a long time, running his hands down the length of his new body, tracing Marco’s muscles and curves like they were his own, yet so foreign. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the weight of Marco's frame making each breath feel heavier, fuller. The bulk, the strength—it was intoxicating.

Once dressed, he headed downstairs, the weight of Marco’s shoes and clothes grounding him further in this new reality. As he descended, he saw himself—his old self—lounging casually on the couch, a sight that made his stomach churn in disbelief. His own face, his voice, speaking back at him.

“Took you long enough,” Marco—his old self—said with a laugh. “What do you think?”

Lukas sat down, still in awe of the situation. “This is... unbelievable. I can’t believe how real it feels.”

Marco—wearing Lukas’ skin—grinned. “Told you it’d be something. Now, for the next month, you’ll be Marco Gonzales.”

They both sat there for a moment, the reality of the swap settling in. It wasn’t just about wearing Marco’s skin. Lukas was about to live his life—take over his work, interact with his wife, his children, and the people Marco had built his life around. And Marco would be living Lukas' life, exploring the side of himself he’d kept hidden for so long.

“Tomorrow, you’ll go to work, meet my clients, handle my business,” Marco explained, leaning forward. “And don’t worry, I’ll be guiding you every step of the way. I’ll be checking in with you, making sure everything goes smoothly.”

Lukas nodded, still feeling the weight of the transformation. “And what about Serena?”

Marco’s face grew serious. “You’ll need to act like me around her, but remember our deal—no crossing that line. You’re in my life, but you’re not me. My family is off-limits.”

Lukas swallowed hard, nodding again. “I understand.”

But as the days passed, things began to get complicated. Wearing Marco’s skin was one thing, but living his life was entirely different. The demands of his business, the constant pressure of pretending to be someone he wasn’t, started to weigh on Lukas. And then there was Serena—sharp, intuitive, and far more aware of the changes in “Marco” than Lukas anticipated. She questioned him constantly, sensing that something wasn’t quite right, and Lukas had to think quickly to keep the charade going.

Meanwhile, Marco was enjoying his time as Lukas—perhaps a little too much. He dove into the freedom of Lukas' life with reckless abandon, hitting bars, meeting men, and living without the weight of his responsibilities. And though he promised not to tarnish Lukas’ reputation, Lukas started to hear whispers, rumors about “himself” that made him question how much control Marco really had.

The month dragged on, and by the time the swap was supposed to end, both men had changed in ways they hadn’t anticipated. For Lukas, living as Marco had awakened something inside him—a sense of confidence and control he’d never felt before. And for Marco, the experience of freedom had reignited a desire for something he couldn’t fully grasp, something that his life couldn’t provide.

But when it came time to switch back, Marco wasn’t ready to let go.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING ANGELIC !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she was so sweet but her ex should've known better than keeping her his dirty little secret. OR it was wrong to lust after her ex's teammate but charles leclerc was willing to give her everything.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, tbh there's barely smut in there but charles is nasty as fuck so 🙃, ex!carlos sainz x pr manager!reader, hint of corruption kink (not really), p in v, unprotected sex (plz use protection), lowkey possessive!charles, i barely understand what i wrote tbh

note: i only post a lot of charles when he's a dad to the leclerc boys but god did i have some filthy thoughts about him tonight. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

it was wrong to lust for your ex’s teammate, but charles leclerc was determined to make her his and he made sure that she knew that.

a whole winter break was enough to move on, right? right. charles couldn’t give much shit about the time limit for a person to move on from their ex. 

not when he saw her throughout the first race week as she took long strides while she followed esteban ocon for the french driver’s media duties. charles used to see her in the ferrari area — being carlos’ sweet secret girlfriend and public relations manager. 

how carlos had managed to get away from his crimes of being seen with another woman in public while fucking his manager behind the scenes was something that charles would never understand— but the monégasque pitied the sweet woman for having to see her boyfriend play tonsil hockey with someone else.

she was angelic, having to put up with that kind of thing. and all charles wanted to do was to make her his— to somehow make her realize that she was worth more than what carlos had recognized her for. 

his green eyes nearly darkened when he saw her, sitting alone at the booth that the alpine drivers occupied for the night with a sad expression on her pretty face. four months of break away from carlos and she was still affected by the break up that occurred half a year ago. 

and her sadness was quickly swept aside when she saw charles taking a stride towards her direction, scooting over instinctively as the ferrari driver offered her a grateful smile and sat next to her. 

“i haven’t seen you for a while,” charles told her with a smile, “pierre was incredibly foul for not inviting you to any of our functions during the break.”

“ah- yeah,” she let out an apologetic smile, “i’ve been trying to adjust to my new place in nice. i figured if i was going to be working for alpine, i might as well live in france.”

“oh you moved? trés bonne,” charles nodded, earning a sheepish smile from her. he nearly melted at the sweetness on her reaction. god she was so fucking perfect. 

“it’s such a shame i don’t get to see you in the office anymore, though,” he shrugged. “ferrari lost an asset.” 

she snorted quietly, “hm, fred even said so. but you know— people come and go.” 

“it’s such a pitiful thing, though,” charles said, looking at her while they both drank, “you should’ve been my manager— you’d do more good with me.” 

“you’re right,” she drawled, now staring at his eyes as she playfully said, “you wouldn’t fuck me and i wouldn’t get emotionally attached.”

as if they were both in another universe, charles then chuckled darkly and boldly claimed, “i mean... i still would’ve fucked you— i just wouldn’t be stupid enough to let you go and treat you like a dirty little secret.” 

she saw how his pupils darkened as he spoke, feeling her legs absentmindedly closing and squirming. as if the floodgates had opened and arousal had gotten the best of her. 

“nobody knew about you and sainz but me, right? the amount of times i’ve had to turn a blind eye was insane— i almost thought i’d have to intervene because it was compromising his media duties,” charles admitted, “i wondered what kept you from getting him to move and do his job— it turns out he’s just fucking you in his motorhome. i’ve had to tell the social media manager that he’s just woken up from a nap.”

“he pretended that you’re not even worth the attention after his races because you’ve always been second best to him,” charles tutted.

she huffed, “there’s no need to rub it on my face—“

“—oh no, mon tresor, i’m not being a dickhead about it,” charles shook his head, placing his drink down on the table. 

the lights in the club were nothing but colourful strobes that didn’t even spot them, making it easier for him to get closer without anyone noticing and interrupting them. 

his breath fanned her ear as he whispered huskily, “i wouldn’t allow him to make you see yourself as second best, mon ange.”

“charles—“ she let out a breathless sigh, feeling his mouth leave open mouthed kisses on her skin. “this is so wron—“

“nothing’s wrong with this when we don’t work anymore, mon tresor,” he murmured. “there’s nothing more wrong than allowing your sweetness to get in the way of the things you so deserve.” 

“and you know how to show me the things i deserve?” she asked, almost innocently. god, was he about to cream in his pants if she continued to say shit like this. 

“you can demand the world and i’ll give you the universe,” charles watched her accept his offer as he smiled widely.

it was so wrong to lust after her ex’s teammate, but if charles leclerc was willing to give her everything then who was she to reject the offer? the monégasque was telling her to be greedy, and this was the best way to do it. 

she felt too overwhelmed. whether it was because of how charles treated her body or how he spoke so dirtily— she wasn’t sure. 

her mind was on an overdrive. all she could think about was him. his godlike figure, his prettiest eyes and his thick cock that continued to pound inside her cunt. 

she almost shook at his tone as he groaned delightfully right by her ear, “mon dieu, chéri, tu te sens si divin.” my god, darling, you feel so divine.

charles helped her prop herself up back on her knees as his hand guided her eyes towards the mirror in front of them, watching her eyes glistening as much as her cunt did in pleasure.

he then murmured, “do you see yourself, sweetheart? you look so pretty.”

she couldn’t even find herself to look when all she’s thinking about was the cock that stuffed her from behind, a strangled whine escaping her throat as she urged him to move. 

“i wish carlos was here to see this,” he chuckled deeply, his fingers pinching her hardened nipple before trailing down her clit to stimulate her even more. she let out a loud whimper, now feeling overwhelmed by his words and his actions as he fucked her once more. “so he knows not to treat you like you’re not worth bragging about.” 

“but i guess he had a reason to keep you a secret, hm?” he taunted her, rocking his hips against her as he bottomed out inside her. “because he knew that once you’re out in the world you’d be corrupted by some men. he was so selfish that he thought his sweet innocent girlfriend shouldn’t be corrupted by anyone but him.” 

“oh how wrong he was,” charles moaned, his thrusts turning rough and fast as he growled. “you know you deserve better than being a dirty little secret, no?” he tapped her face lightly with his palm as he said, “answer me, mon ange.”

“o- oh- yes,” she cried out, “yes, yes—“

“i can give you everything, mon tresor,” he murmured, “everything that he couldn’t give you.” 

“fuck, charles! please,” she mewled, looking behind her with pleading eyes as she begged desperately, “want to cum again, charles please~”

“gonna cum in this pussy of yours, mon ange—“

“please, cum inside me,” she moaned aloud, her desperation echoing around the suite as well as the skins slapping against each other. “please pleaseeee~ just wan’ to cum. god! feel so full, fuck!”

“gonna cum inside you, and make you mine,” he growled quietly, nibbling on her skin as she whined and mewled. her walls clenched at the thought as he chuckled, “oh? you want that, hm? you want me to make this pussy mine?” 

“yes! fuck-“ she exclaimed, her body convulsing while she whined, “want you to own me, charles. wanna be stuffed full by you only, charles please~”

“you could’ve asked me a long time ago, mon tresor,” his thrusts turned hard and slower as he came inside her, feeling her clench around his cock as they reached their highs. 

she was too fucked out and full, content at the feeling of his cock inside of her while feeling nothing but happiness being in his arms. 

charles couldn’t help but grin widely at the sight of her limped body and the dazed expression on her face. he couldn’t find himself to think about his teammate when this sweet woman was finally his.

he knew that he could do so much better treating her like a queen that she was than carlos would ever do. 

everything that her ex never gave her— charles would be more than willing to hand it to her on a gold plate.

the next morning, charles found carlos at the hotel lobby as they were both heading to the airport. the two ferrari drivers got to speak to one another before pierre gasly and esteban ocon saw them and talked amongst themselves.

carlos sainz sure was the kind to be confused and puzzled, and he showed this when esteban’s manager — who was once carlos’ girlfriend and manager — approached the group and talked to the drivers before turning to charles with a sweet smile. 

“are you going to go now, mon ange?” charles asked with a smile, watching her blush at the attention she got from him as she nodded meekly. “you could just come with us, you know? we’re heading to the same place, anyway.”

“yeah but,” she gestured to the two alpine drivers, “someone has to control these two before the next race week starts.” 

the alpine drivers protested against her words as she and charles giggled. charles then looked at her and said, “okay well… text me when you get there, okay?” 

she nodded and gave charles a sheepish smile (as if she hadn’t found herself saying the filthiest words to him the night before; not that carlos knew). 

charles wrapped his arms around her before kissing her passionately, humming at the taste of her. pierre let out a whistle and esteban grinned at the two toothily. 

while carlos… carlos was just confused as fuck. 

“see you tomorrow, pretty girl,” charles winked at her, smirk playfully written on his face as she giggled quietly and left with the two alpine drivers. 

charles found carlos staring at him with his mouth slightly agape, making the monegasque chuckle and shake his head. “she’s so sweet and pretty, no?” 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

[seonghwaddict]

ateez's favourite petnames for you

requested by anon. genre. hc, fluff. rating. sfw. warnings. petnames (duh), some are more feminine leaning. wc. 734.

lilo's notes. i'm soso sorry this took me so long to get out T-T

masterlist.

hongjoong

darling. the thought of him using that as a pet name makes me go awooga. idk i feel like it would just sound good in his voice, yk? he can be a tease sometimes too, and i feel like this one has the potential to convey his teasing perfectly while still being cute n stuff. like, he's whispering to you, hugging you from behind in the kitchen as you prepare food or something. or he's entering the house, calling out a soft "darling, i'm home!" AHHHH.

honourable mention: love.

seonghwa

angel. PLEASEEEEE idk it just suits him so well. personally i find the thought of any demon line member using this pet name extra scrumptious, but it's something about seonghwa that just does it for me. he has a gentle and warm voice. waking up to him gently nudging your shoulder, needing to leave early in the morning but not wanting to go without telling you, a soft chuckle as you look up at him in confusion, “sleep well, angel?”

honourable mention: bun/bunny.

yunho

tiny. size difference matters quite a bit to him in a relationship, and he loves pointing it out every chance he gets. he’d say this in a more teasing context, when he’s messing around with you or trying to get you to smile—which is all the time, probably. admiring your face late at night, tangled in each other’s limbs in bed, tired but not wanting to fall asleep just yet as he brushes his fingers against your jawline, “you’re so pretty like this, tiny.”

honourable mention: princess.

yeosang

sweetie/sweetheart. he’s a simple guy, really. anything that makes you smile makes him smile. and seeing the way you grinned the first time he called you that—a simple “hey, sweetie, could you come for a second?” that had you giggling and skipping over to him happily—well, it made him never want to stop calling you sweetie or sweetheart, to say the least.

honourable mention: precious.

san

babe. he would so call his s/o babe i can literally hear it idc argue with the wall. normally i’d convulse (negative) if a man called me babe unironically, but shit he can do that all he wants. anyways. he knows you love it when he calls you any sweet pet name, but his personal favourite is this one. it’s so simple, rolls off his tongue so easily. he’d say it so easily too, calling you and saying something along the lines of, “hey, babe, have you eaten yet? i wanna try this new place i found.” YUPPP

honourable mention: my love.

mingi

doll. i’m a mingi calling you doll enthusiast until the day i die. in every fic i’ve written about his he calls mc doll at least once and that’s exactly how it should be. moving on, i just think he would really love calling you that because it elicits the cutest reaction each time; shyly averted eyes, flushed cheeks. sometimes he likes to throw in a little ‘dolly’ to switch things up a bit, to catch you off guard.

honourable mention: (my) pretty/sweet girl.

wooyoung

babydoll. biggest tease of the century, he definitely has a whole arsenal of cheesy pet names to call you when he wants to be particularly annoying (e.g. “aw what are you pouting for, snookums?” “you’re the best, cupcake!” “my my, you are the apple of my eye,” etc.). but on the rare occasions where he’s not playing around, he likes any variation of baby, particularly babydoll. perhaps his adoration for the name was ignited when he first listened to babydoll by dominic fike, and saw how many times you replayed it, but who knows?

honourable mention: jagi (자기 — honey).

jongho

honey. i call this a double entendre. he doesn’t really use pet names much, but he likes this one because 1. it’s cute, it suits you almost as your actual name. this is a name a husband would use and he’s so husband coded it hurts me. and 2. he really is just a silly guy—and considering he’s often described as a bear, well, then it’s quite self explanatory. massaging your shoulders as he stands behind you, sat on the couch and groaning into your hands after a stressful day at work, his voice low and reassuring, “you always do so well, honey, please don’t worry your pretty little head over it more.”

honourable mention: dear.

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime @jjoongstar

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[mionemymind]

Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people. 

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did. 

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters. 

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.” 

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human. 

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this. 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?” 

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.” 

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.” 

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass. 

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.” 

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away. 

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had. 

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch. 

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.” 

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige. 

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?” 

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

 “Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months. 

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent. 

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently. 

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.” 

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it. 

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.” 

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world.  “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.” 

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast. 

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal. 

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion. 

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came. 

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away. 

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show. 

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared. 

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.” 

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?” 

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” 

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?” 

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.” 

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful. 

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too. 

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated.  Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow.  “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.” 

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?” 

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained. 

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.” 

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.” 

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center. 

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again. 

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon. 

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.” 

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?” 

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope. 

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again. 

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her. 

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see. 

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue. 

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting? 

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves. 

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.” 

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts. 

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it. 

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n. 

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment. 

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.” 

“You have a deal.” 

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her. 

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands. 

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?” 

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze. 

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else. 

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention? 

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked. 

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n. 

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile. 

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back. 

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking…” 

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret. 

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek. 

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this. 

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick. 

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?” 

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap. 

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.” 

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[distantdarlings]

HABITUAL // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 4.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert (Requested)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this (changed slightly)* Annoyed that Theo won't seem to make a move, despite your growing feelings for each other, you ask a friend of the both of you to help make him jealous.

+ WARNINGS - Language, brief sensuality, kissing, two time skips, making Theo jealous, brief fake-dating

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Ribs - Lorde

---

Professor Trelawney’s voice droned on as your quill lazily scratched across your notebook. You were between listening to what she was saying and sleeping, and your brain slowly tilted toward the second. She was rambling on about the properties of a crystal ball above all other vectors for sight-seeing. Something about its curvature made the answers come to you clearer…

Your quill tip ran dry and made a slightly louder scratch against the parchment, sending a nasty shudder down your spine. Your eyes darted over to your inkwell and noticed that it was practically empty. A deep sigh ran through your body, depressing your shoulders. Why was it you always ran out of something when you needed it most? Maybe grabbing a replacement would wake you up a bit. You raised your hand and waited for the long-winded professor to catch sight of it.

“Oh, yes, what is it?” she stared at you through her hugely magnified glasses, tilting her head back slightly to catch that sweet spot in them. 

“I’ve run out of ink. I was just wondering if I could—” A tap on your shoulder interrupted your question. You turned towards the owner of the hand and spotted Theodore. A small smile spread across your lips as a small backup inkwell was displayed in his hand. You nodded your thanks and grabbed it from him, intending to let the professor continue her lecture.  

“Never mind that, Professor Trelawney!” you said, flashing a brief smile at the eccentric woman. She nodded and continued as if she’d never stopped. You wondered when she’d take her next breath.

“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” a small whisper said next to your ear. You smiled at Theo’s flirtatious nature, knowing he’d use this little favor to ask for something in return later. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before backing up. You rolled your eyes, promising to get him back for that.

By the end of class, your stomach was growling, and your mind was exhausted. It was a good thing you didn’t have divinity again until Wednesday because you didn’t think you’d make it if you didn’t get a small break from her each week. And thank Merlin, your next class wasn’t until after lunch. 

You gathered your things and let them slide into your bag. The boys behind you had begun to do the same as you headed towards the door. They were always behind you for whatever reason. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was just a boy thing. 

“Hey!” Theo’s voice came from behind you. You turned to catch him jogging toward you with his hands tightened around his bag straps. You stopped and flashed a smile, watching as his eyes briefly flashed down to your lips. You withheld any physical reaction so as not to embarrass him. “Are you still eating with us?”

“Of course, I am,” you say, “I always do. It wouldn’t be a good day without having lunch with my favorite boy.” You gently touched your thumb and forefinger to his chin, teasing him just a bit. You saw his lips part as soon as your skin came into contact with his—just as it always did. 

“I’m your favorite boy?” he chuckled, letting a smirk fall over his lips. He readjusted his bag over his shoulders. Your fingers came up to separate your collar from your neck, allowing just a breath of skin to flash over his eyes. You watched as he glanced down at every inch of you that was revealed to him, and his throat slid up nervously. You could play him like a piano, and it was addicting. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Mattheo asked, coming up behind the two of you. His voice sliced the tension between the two of you in half. 

“Nope, we were just getting ready to head down to the Great Hall,” you replied. “Are you eating with us?”

“Duh, who else am I going to eat with?” Mattheo asked. You rolled your eyes at him and looped your arm through Theo’s, allowing him to lead the way to the dining hall. Enzo quickly jogged up beside the group, falling in step with the rest of them. Your big brother had a habit of always being the latest to the party. It was one of his many endearing qualities. 

Your group appeared before the vast doors of the Great Hall, allowing them to quickly swallow you all up as you realized that everyone else was just as starving as you were. You selected your usual seats at the far end of the long Slytherin table and dug in. Soon enough, yours and everyone else’s plates were piled high with the many options laid out before you.

“Merlin, help us all….if that wasn’t the most boring class yet,” Mattheo sighed into his food. The rest of you laughed at his confession, all nodding in agreement. Trelawney’s class was rarely exciting, but when it was boring, it was really boring. 

“The only bit of excitement was you asking for some new ink,” Theo nodded toward you, a bit of a roll pressed between his teeth. You smiled and shook your head.

“And, of course, you were there, right to the rescue,” you laughed. “I was hoping I could leave the class and grab a replacement from my dorm to wake myself up a little.”

“My bad, I thought I was helping.”

“You were…unfortunately,” you replied. The four of you laughed in response, knowing well enough that they all had done something to try and get out of the squirrely professor’s class. A comfortable silence ensued soon after as the group finished up their meals and let the large meal settle sweetly on their stomachs.

“I’m really tired now,” you groaned, laying your head down against the table. You felt a hand reach over and gently brush its fingers along your hair. You assumed it was Theo, as he habitually absentmindedly touched you somehow. You figured you were a sort of stress ball to him. A small laugh touched your chest at the thought. 

“Teddy, can I sit on your lap?” you asked, already knowing his answer.

“Of course, love, come here,” he responded. The three boys had begun to discuss some kind of new broom headed towards the Quidditch market, and, to be entirely honest, you couldn’t care less about it. All the more reason for you to doze off just a bit in Theo’s lap. You pulled yourself up and stepped over your side of the bench. You walked around the edge of the table, sleepily approaching Theo. Though his attention remained on his friends, his legs slid open and his arm pushed out, allowing you to be able to slip onto his lap. 

You gently grabbed his shoulder and stepped between his legs, settling yourself on his lap. Once you were seated, his arm slid firmly around your waist, sliding his fingers comfortably beneath the waistband of your skirt. You set your head on his shoulder, pressing your face close to his neck, letting your lips brush his skin every once in a while. If he could avoid any romantic feelings from this, he either genuinely disliked you or was utterly numb to all physical affection. 

Your goal for the last few weeks was to muster up every bit of courage the universe had blessed you with and completely take it out on Theo. The feelings and the tension sustained between the two of you were too obvious for it to mean nothing. He had feelings for you, you’d bet your final grade on it.

Just as your lips brushed his skin a third time, you noticed a trail of chills travel down the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly. You suppressed a smile. Just a little bit more…

“Teddy,” you whispered in his ear. He all but jumped and turned to look at you.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, sucking his bottom lip roughly between his teeth. Your eyes watched the motion for a few seconds before popping back up to his eyes.

“I was just wondering if you wanted me to rub your back a bit?” you asked, smiling innocently. “I know how sore it gets after Quidditch practice.” 

His eyes glanced between your lips and your eyes, savoring every detail of your face. The front of his pants tightened a bit, pushing a small adjustment out of him. He grabbed your waist, lifted you gently, slid his legs forward and farther apart, then set you back down. Heat pooled in your lower stomach at his ability to pick you up like it was nothing. Damn it, you had a raging crush on him.

“Uh, no, darling,” he breathed, eyes fully pulling away from you now. “I’m alright, maybe another time…and, actually, I think I’ll just…” he trails off, gently sliding you off his leg and onto the seat next to him. Disappointment and rejection swirl in your chest with every aching breath. He’d never done anything but be affectionate with you, but for some reason, he was acting off today. 

He got to his feet, completely avoiding all eye contact, and headed off from the table with another word. Your lips parted in surprise as you watched him walk off towards the exit. The boys behind you had stopped talking, and you turned to catch their attention.

“What is his problem?” Mattheo asked.

“I have no idea,” you respond slowly, glancing back toward the double doors as if he might walk in again. 

xxx

Later that evening, after all of your classes for the day had ended and dinner was revving up in the Great Hall, you sat on your bed, torn between a couple of things. For one, you were starved and wanted to grab some dinner; two, you were too scared you’d bump into Theo while you were down there and add a second painfully awkward interaction to the day; and three, your stomach was churning so violently with nerves and nausea, you were sure you’d puke if you ate anything or had one more thought about Theodore Nott. 

Every time lunch popped into your head again, you nearly hurled. That was easily one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to you, and you’d fallen off your broom during Quidditch while the whole school was watching. 

Maybe he’d lost feelings for you. That would explain the strange distance between the two of you today. But it didn’t make sense why it was so sudden. Had you upset him or made him uncomfortable today? You weren’t sure. Your brain ached from all of the contemplating and speed runs of scenarios you’d been doing the past hour. 

You could ask Enzo or Mattheo to see if they had any insight into their friend’s brain, but you figured that might be a little rude. You didn’t want Theo to think you were a coward or were trying to talk about him behind his back. Fuck.

Then, as if he was summoned by the force of your mind, Mattheo Riddle gave a brief knock and presented himself in the doorway. A smile pulled its way across your face at the appearance of the dark boy. You waved him over and gave a small pat to the space beside you.

“Hey,” he said, sliding himself beside you.  

“What’s up?” He kicks his shoes off and props his feet onto the bed, one resting comfortably over the other.

“Nothing much. I was just coming to see if you knew what was up with Theo today?” he asked, crossing his hands over his stomach.

“Actually, I was just thinking of coming to ask you or Enzo that,” you admit. “I have no idea what happened today. We didn’t talk the rest of the day.”

“Weird…” Mattheo trailed off. There were a few moments of empty silence as the two of you rested against your headboard, basking in each other’s company. After a while, his arm came up to slide around your shoulders. You slid closer to him and rested a head on his shoulder, the collar of his shirt gently tickling your nose. 

If you could remain like this for the rest of forever, you would. Mattheo had always been like another brother to you. Another overprotective Enzo to watch over you in everything you did, and, as annoying as that sounded (and sometimes was), you really did appreciate having them around you. You enjoyed Theo in that way, as well, though you admit that you wish something more would bloom between the two of you. A thought pops into your head.

“Matty,” you breathe, your eyes widening significantly. His eyes follow yours to see if he could catch what had shocked you so much.

“What?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“If I ask you for the hugest favor on earth, would you do it?”

“Well, that is kind of vague,” he points out, “what is the favor?” He watches you for a few moments as you struggle with what to say. A million details are running through your head, with possibilities and worst-case scenarios flashing around, making everything seem like one big, jumbled mess in your brain. But, despite the cacophony of opportunities flying around in your head, one thesis stood clear.

“Would you help me make Theo jealous?” you ask. Mattheo choked on his spit. The face he gives you makes you laugh out loud.

“I’m sorry?” he asks.

“I want you to help me make Theo jealous, like, you know, pretend to date me for a few days.” 

“Are you joking? Theo would kill me. I’m not risking that!” he exclaims, removing his arm from behind you to cross them. 

“Please, Matty, I’d never ask you for another favor again!”

“No! He already likes you. Why don’t you just ask him out?” he asks. You knew that Theo had feelings for you, just as he knew you had feelings for him, but hearing Mattheo confirm that aloud had you blushing. You supposed there was always the possibility you were wrong about Theo liking you and the two of you were just friends, but friends didn’t look at each other like the two of you did with eyes full of longing and hot lust. 

“Because I’m too nervous. I want him to make the first move,” you explain. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. A deep sigh pushed through his nose as he appeared to be contemplating. You waited in silence for a few moments, allowing him to weigh his options, though you knew what his answer would be. He never told you no.

“Alright—” 

“Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” You threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He groaned at the sudden weight flung over him and reluctantly held you back. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes but, no matter how close he got to Theo, he’d always had a soft spot for you. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay, okay, back up,” he sighed. “How do we do it?” 

“So, this was my plan…” 

You went over every detail of the well-thought-out plan you’d devised over the last few hours, making sure to leave nothing out. Every few moments, Mattheo’s eyebrows would raise, or he would start to protest, but he never backed out. And if he tried to, you’d just beg him some more.

So once you’d gone over everything successfully, you had Mattheo lead you downstairs with your fingers intertwined together. This had to work. 

The two of you stalked into the Great Hall, your stomach churning with anxiety and Mattheo’s preparing himself to run if needed. Your fingers squeezed his every so often, trying to wring the nerves out but failing miserably. Your eyes landed on the group sitting at your table and you made your way over.

“Hey, guys…” Enzo started and trailed off as his eyes traced the two of you, falling to where the two of you met in the middle. At Enzo’s sudden silence, Theo turned to look at the two of you. Your intertwined fingers clenched tightly, Mattheo’s thumb lightly tracing yours. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling sweetly. You avoided all eye contact as the two of you sat down beside Enzo, with you directly across from Theo. Mattheo’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into him. Still, you refused to look at Theo, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see his eyes widened and lips slightly parted. 

“Friendly tonight, are we?” Enzo asked, stabbing a bit of potato with his fork. He seemed to be hiding a smile. You shot him a knowing glance.

“Shut up,” you joke. “We’ve just…”

“Gotten a bit closer?” Mattheo pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you giggled in response. Damn, this acting deserved an award. You glanced at Theo's fist tightening, joints cracking slightly.

“Since when?” he asked, his voice baring through gritted teeth. Your eyes found him finally and your smile dropped a bit.

“Since he asked me out earlier today,” you retorted, the attitude laid on just a bit. His lips snapped shut and his eyes glanced away. He seemed less confident now, because—you hoped—he’d figured out your irritation with his refusal to move forward with your relationship.

“So, are you guys a thing now?” Enzo asked, not bothered in the slightest.

“You could call us that,” you giggled, fake-teasing Mattheo. Nerves broiled in your stomach as you discreetly pinched his hip. That had been the code the two of you had come up with to signal when you were going to do your kiss. This was going to be the big sale and it had to be realistic.

He leaned down and gently cupped your bottom lip with his, sending a wave of butterflies to your stomach. Damn, he was a good kisser. You pressed your lips back into him, admiring the feel of him. In all reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds, but under the heat of the eyes before you, it felt like hours. When he pulled away, you flashed him a small smile.

Theo rose quickly and headed to the door, never once looking back. This has been the second time in one day he’d stormed off and you felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. Maybe this wasn’t going to have the desired effect. You groaned and set your head against the table.

“Not working out for you?” Enzo chuckled.

“Shut up!” you shouted into your arms, the sound muffled. 

“You know…” Mattheo was right at your ear. You glanced up at him, tilting your head to the side. “You’re a pretty good kisser.” A smirk spread across his lips. You blushed

“Ugh, stop, Matty…you’re a good kisser too.” The three of you burst out laughing, reveling in the appreciation of each other’s company, before remembering why you were here. You really didn’t want to continue with this, it made you feel guilty, and there was always the chance this wouldn’t work. You sighed. You would have to go big or go home, and you weren’t a quitter.

xxx 

The next morning was a Saturday and Mattheo and you had planned a fake picnic date by the Whomping Willow. The plan was to enjoy a meal right within sight of where Theo was going to toss a Quaffle around with a couple of his friends. This had to work or you risked ruining your relationship with Theo. You prayed that this would give him the confidence to approach you. 

The two of you set the blanket and snacks out, settling in and beginning to eat. Enzo said that he had overheard that Theo was going to head out around eleven. It was currently fifteen ‘till, so you figured it wouldn’t be too long. Or you hoped that, anyway.

“So, what if this doesn’t work?” Mattheo breaks the silence, nursing a small bottle of pumpkin juice. 

“I was just thinking about that,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t actually know. I’m hoping he won’t hate me, but I’m more concerned he will hate you too.”

“I’m not too concerned about that. It’s alright. I’m just happy to help.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything in return?” you ask, peeling the crust off your sandwich. 

“I’ll just hang onto the favor for a rainy day,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and laugh gently. 

Above the two of you, a group of four players on brooms soar over you. You gasp and scoot closer to Mattheo, getting into position. He wrapped his arm around you and started to pretend to joke about something with you. You glanced Theo watching the two of you every so often. He would look for only a few seconds before turning his head away when his friends called his name. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hit in the head with the Quaffle (in which case, you’d laugh, but now wasn’t the time for that). 

“You know,” Mattheo started, “this is nice. We should do this more often.”

“What, have picnics?” you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. 

“Sure, if you want,” he chuckled. “I just meant the hanging out part. I feel like I only see you whenever your brother’s around.”

“Yeah, it’s almost like he’s my brother and I love him,” you laughed. He shook his head in an attempt to hide his smile, but soon enough, the both of you were laughing. His head was thrown back as it racked his body, and your hand gripped his shirt sleeve to steady yourself.

“Hey, I need to talk to you—” The two of you snapped out of your moment of comedy at the sound of a voice. Your eyes squinted against the sun slightly before making contact with Theo. Mattheo glanced over at you and shrugged his shoulders, urging you on with his hand. Theo reached down and offered you his hand, which you took and allowed him to pull you to your feet. He marched the two of you over to the nearest courtyard, never letting go of your hand. Your stomach flushed.

“Theo, what is—?” He pulled you to a stop behind one of the courtyard’s stone pillars. Your eyes found his; the only sound was the slight breeze and the gurgle of the fountain behind him. He glanced down to your lips, his breaths exiting in heavy pants. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.

“I have to ask you one question,” he said. You started to speak, but his thumb pressed gently against your bottom lip. “No, just wait one minute.”

His eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. It appeared that he was trying to figure out precisely what he wanted to say. His lips parted several times, the words of confession dancing along the edges of them. The frustration in his eyes set off an ache in your chest that you couldn’t suppress. You wanted to kiss him so bad, so bad, so bad. 

“One question…and then I’ll leave you alone,” he said. You nodded slowly. “Do you really like Mattheo? Is that why the two of you are together?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. That was definitely different from what you thought he was going to ask. You stuttered a few times before shutting your mouth. You didn’t know what to say. His eyes refused to leave yours, beckoning every inch of the truth out of you. He wanted to know if your feelings toward him were the same as his towards you. He fought the urge to reach out and press his lips against yours. Just one word, and he would. You sighed.

“No,” you confessed, “I don’t.” His stomach flipped. Yours did, too. You wanted to explain yourself, run through every detail of the plan devised between Mattheo and you but you were too ashamed. Luckily, he didn’t care why you were with Mattheo, other than you didn’t care for the boy as he previously thought you’d done. His hands slid easily along your cheeks, carefully tracing the soft skin there. He was testing the waters, wanting so badly to touch you and anticipating the possibility of a slap. 

“Can I ask one more question?” he whispered against your lips, the salty taste of his sweat dabbing against the tip of your tongue. You nodded breathlessly.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your parted lips. You didn’t answer. You pressed your lips roughly to his, hearing the sharp intake of breath he took as his hands tightened around your head. He held you in place, pressing you against the stone pillar behind you. Your hands came up to wrap around his waist, clenching the material of his shirt beneath your fingers. His hands dropped to the front of you, pushing you tightly against the pillar, fingers curving against your hipbones. Fuck. You were such a coward; you should have done this ages ago. 

When the two of you finally parted, reluctantly choosing air over each other, you did nothing but stare at the other. Heavy pants left the two of you; your hands clutched the other’s bodies, leaving little space between the two of you. Neither of you had words. All he could think to do was fold you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you with a hold like a vice. Your head turned and tucked itself into his shoulder where it had rested so many times before. And through your contentedly parted eyes, you could distantly see Mattheo, on the picnic blanket, smugly raising his pumpkin juice bottle to the two of you.

[pandorem]

Genuinely find it fascinating from a writing perspective that Edwin’s propensity for playing trauma olympics is a well established trait of his that plays so interestingly into his relationships with Crystal and Charles and Simon especially, and how it works in his character arc and how it both plays into and CONTRASTS his incredible capacity for forgiveness. How it’s a flaw that makes so much sense with how much he’s suffered that it’s hard not to be sympathetic towards it or even agree with him sometimes, but that it IS a flaw and comes up at times that are less fair as well. Im not sure I have a real point to this yet, it’s just something I want to chew on for a while.

for one: Edwin’s tendency to put his trauma as worse than others’ (no matter how literally correct he might be) is set up directly to parallel Crystal’s own self centered tendencies and her character arc. They BOTH have a tendency to not consider other people’s feelings and pain until someone points out to them that they are being dismissive. They are mirrors of each other and I love them so much. I also wanted to push back a bit on some things I’ve seen about how Edwin’s reaction to her yelling at him in episode one was completely justified (“what she’s been through? I spent 70 years in hell!”) because of how their traumas interact and how she let David in the first time that feel too dismissive of Crystal’s trauma. Yes, their trauma’s with demons interact in ways that it makes PERFECT SENSE that Edwin reacted the way he did, and I even sympathize with him, but something being sympathetic does not mean it’s justified. Taking away the metaphor of the Demonic nature of it all, Crystal was just cornered and threatened by her abusive ex boyfriend who has succeeded in isolating her from her entire social circle/any safety net she might have had before the boys. And uh. We don’t say about people getting out of abusive relationships that it’s justified that people were mad at them for getting into the relationship willingly. So.

Also. While Edwin’s measuring of their traumas is more sympathetic in the first episode, the moment in a later episode where Edwin (nearly lightheartedly) dismisses Crystal’s nightmare about her abusive demon ex because “the living know nothing about true nightmares” is less so, and I think is there to confirm that this is a genuine, deliberately written character flaw that he needs to grow out of, just like Crystal needs to grow.

And that brings us to Simon. The character who Edwin is THE MOST justified to be angry at, to blame and to compare their punishments. When he rages that Simon damned him to decades of being ripped apart while Simon sits quietly crying in a room, getting paper cuts from tearing pages out of books, it’s honestly difficult not to agree with him, to not feel that same righteous indignation. But then despair lays it out for him: he was about to gloat over another’s torture. And even without yet knowing more about Simon, Edwin is horrified by the idea. I think it says so much about Edwin’s GOODNESS that the time this character flaw of his feels the most justified and right is also the time he works through and past it to empathize with the pain of the real person on the other side of that. It is after he comes back, needing Simon to know that he didn’t mean to gloat, that he is then able to see Simon as a real person, as someone he shares pain with, the pain of being closeted and terrified in the 1910s. Simon was a kid, same as Edwin, who was terrified of his own nature and let that fear and humiliation lead him to cruelty that ended in consequences that he never intended. And it says so, so much about Edwin’s goodness that once he is able to see past his own pain and empathize with someone else’s, he feels for and maybe even forgives the one person that he would be most justified in NOT forgiving. That connecting with him is literally what saved Simon’s soul in the end.

(It’s also worth noting- Simon thinks that Edwin is “another trick” when he first sees him. He says that “the headmaster will be angry”. In keeping with the theme that we shouldn’t compare traumas or decide that we know what other people are going through, it seems clear to me that what we saw- sitting alone and getting paper cuts- was NOT the entirety of Simon’s hell.)

And then there’s Charles. Now. Edwin has a lot of 1910s sensibilities that make him connecting the dots on what Charles went through a bit difficult for him. But Edwin never, ever suggests that his trauma is less or isn’t worth getting upset about. Because it’s Charles, and Charles deserves no amount of pain ever, in the world. I don’t think it would ever occur to Edwin if I’m honest. Of course it’s because he loves him and Charles is his favourite person in the universe, but also I wonder at the fact that their very first meeting, so soon after Edwin had escaped hell, was one of complete empathy and compassion. Maybe seeing the bullies made him see himself in Charles but it sort of circles the point I think I’m making- Edwin’s very real flaws contrast against and thus highlight his INCREDIBLE kindness and goodness.

[yandere-sins]

Cupcake

Okay I will admit I've been soft-yandere yearning for a while now, but it's my birthday and I deserved them!! There’s nothing better than some self-indulgent fanfiction (;

Fandom: Call of Duty Characters: Yandere!Ghost x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Mentions of Punishments/Kidnapping, Forced Relationship, Emotional Distress

You didn't react to the sound of boots on concrete floor or the lock of the door clicking, hinges squeaking as someone entered the room.

Giving him attention was pointless.

You knew too little about him to get under his skin with words alone. Every bicker seemed to bounce off his broad chest with so much strength, it hit you right back in your face. You could never keep your arguments from sounding like childish complaints, and he chuckled at anything as direct as "I hate you!"

Instead, this man—"Ghost" you reckoned he called himself—seemed to bask in every minute of your putrid hatred. You could always assume the wisp of a smile beneath his mask, his eyes searching for yours no matter how much you glared at him. He possessed no inhibitions whatsoever, pushing, pulling, throwing you wherever he wanted, when he wanted, and not always gently mind you.

Yet, he pulled off his gloves before touching you, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks while he told you to stop crying now. That everything was okay and you shouldn't ruin your pretty face. He squeezed into the bed with you—the mattress too small for him alone, a coffin for both of you—shielding your body with his from the door so neither friend nor foe would see you first if they came inside.

Ghost made sure to top off your food with the ingredients you liked from his own plate when you were visibly upset. And on the nights when you were unconsolable, he pulled you on top of his chest despite the struggles, resting your head above his heart while he played with your hair or held your hand, intertwining your fingers.

It was hard to say what was going on in that man's head. His eyes spoke of wonders you couldn't see, but his punishments were so severe, so unforgiving as if you had personally harmed him in another life. You could be glad that you could still count ten fingers on your hands and ten toes on your feet, seeing how his mood shifted unpredictably at any moment you two were together.

So, it was best not to acknowledge him.

Even when everything inside you screamed profanities at this bastard, you tempered yourself with deep breaths. A deep inhale through the nose, and a long exhale through the mouth. Deep in, long out. Deep in, and a long breath out...

Zing.

The unique sound of a zippo reached your ear despite your meditation having been able to fade out his presence behind you. This sound was unexpected, new. Ghost and new impressions combined as well as fire and gasoline, so this was scary. You didn't know if he picked up a smoking habit or would burn you just from the sound alone.

You couldn't help the rather violent reaction to the fear that snapped your muscles tight. Jumping into action, you threw the blanket you had wrapped around yourself away, sliding into the farthest corner away from him. Your eyes widened as you took in the view in front of you, time coming to a brief halt as you mustered the absolute unit of a man in front of you holding a... cupcake.

Blue wrapping, yellow icing, and a flickering candle on top.

Ghost snapped the zippo shut after he had waited out your reaction, his shoulders relaxing after he concluded you wouldn't do something stupid. You had just been surprised. He let the silver square sink into his right pocket while the small flame illuminated his mask in a warm yet even more spooky way than it always was.

"Happy Birthday," he said, tearing you out of your state of shock. Your gaze jumped from the mismatched-colored cupcake to his eyes that rested on you, full of that disgusting, heart-wrenching adoration he harbored for you. Things were calm, too calm. Ghost was too relaxed, only holding the cupcake and not a weapon or anything remotely dangerous in his other hand. You couldn't trust the peace. Couldn't rely on his words or the actions you were seeing.

"Wait, what?" it suddenly hit you, your eyes widening. "Is it... Is it really my birthday?"

Prying your eyes off your captor, you looked to your right, to the small table across from the bed where Ghost had hung up a calendar for you. He'd been crossing off days diligently for you since you couldn't be bothered to keep up with the task on some days, Ghost knowing that time seemed to pass you by in weird intervals without a window in your room. And he was right. Damn.

Taking another step toward you, you didn't cower away, letting your guard down as you breathed out heavily. That meant you had vanished from the face of the earth for months now. No one would come looking for you anymore; the hope of your survival and return would have been smashed. What a depressing thought on your birthday, your family and friends surely heartbroken about your absence, just like you were.

The bed creaked as Ghost sat down, his weight shifting the mattress in a way that made you aware of his closeness. You collected your legs, keeping them away from him to not give him any chance of quickly grabbing you. But when Ghost held out his hand, it was filled by the cupcake stretched towards you, and he handed it over without another word.

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his and the pastry, but hesitantly, you picked it up, feeling the squishiness of it, a sweet smell drafting into your nose. The warmth of the ficker licked at your skin as you held the cupcake in front of you. So small yet so thoughtful. You thought a whole lot about this psycho, but to think he'd remember your birthday when not even you did? You couldn't even remember when you told him the date, much less expected him to prepare something for you.

Not like there was anyone else who'd care about it now.

Immediately, tears shot into your eyes as you realized you were truly alone. No one would come to save you, and nothing would change unless you could win against your captor. Even when he was with you, you were still alone. And even when you blew out the candle, wishing for these things to change, you knew the wish was wasted.

Sniffling, you bit into the cupcake, frosting getting stuck on your nose and lips, but you didn't care. Sugary sweet and buttery, the taste of homemade cupcakes like your mother would have made them coated your tongue and teeth, remaining there even when you swallowed, bitterness clogging your throat while the delicious treat produced enough serotonin to jump in joy.

You managed to devour half of it before the tears and stuffy nose caught up with you. Even your free hand couldn't wipe away all these emotions overrunning you. Fear, pain, hopelessness. The feeling of being stuck here and so, so alone. It needed two more hands, big, calloused, and warm, to gently hold your face between them, wiping relentlessly while hushing you softly.

"It's alright, darling," Ghost murmured, his voice invading your brain that couldn't detect all these phantom pains you were feeling but soothed them regardless. "I'm here. Everything will be okay, sweetheart."

It certainly wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it did the trick, keeping you from the panic attack that slowly built inside you. Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you took another bite, sniffling and with tears falling relentlessly still. But Ghost's hands never disappeared. Instead, his thumb began to wander, brushing off crumbs as you devoured the rest of your treat, leaving nothing of this kind gesture for him as you were unwilling to share what little happiness you had been given.

Crumpling up the paper around the blown-out candle, you threw the trash away, finally having both hands free to wipe your own face and get a grip on yourself, your vulnerable side having come out shamefully. But even when you pushed away his hands, Ghost's presence right next to you didn't vanish, his body now much closer than before.

"Happy Birthday," he said again, gripping your shoulders. You huffed lightly, feeling exhausted after your cry, but before you could react, the sudden feeling of lips against yours threw you off.

You hadn't even noticed him pulling up his mask to reveal his mouth, lips more greedy and desperate than ever finding yours. Teeth and tongue played and nibbled, not so gently asking for entrance, and you... gave up. You had no strength to resist. Play a game you were bound to lose anyway, Ghost always cheating. And immediately, feeling your surrender, his hands slid back to your face, cupping your cheeks so he could deepen the kiss.

It didn't help. Didn't soothe the aches in your heart and didn't make the tears stop, but the intrusion of his tongue and the sweet taste now coating it distracted your thoughts. Ghost seemed to try to tell you that no, you weren't alone. You'd never be. He'd always be with you like he swore up and down. He'd protect you, take care of you, and love you.

Kidnapping, locking you away, and forcing you to do what he wanted didn't exactly scream protection, care, and love to you. But an annoying, nagging voice started to speak up in the back of your mind. He wasn't wrong. As long as you had to endure this horrific living arrangement, he'd be with you. He didn't leave you alone, didn't forget your birthday. You doubted even that he spent a single moment of downtime without the thought of you on his mind, considering how obsessed he was.

It would never be enough to satisfy you, though.

There was no way he could ever mean enough to you to make you love him. You'd never forgive him, never submit to him fully, body and soul. But at least on that day, the day that grieved you so—a joyous occasion turned bittersweet by your suffering—you weren't alone. He was there with you. He cared. Did he care enough?

"You're not going to sing for me?" you asked him, half-joking, half-challenging.

Ghost mustered you for a long moment, then you heard him huff, amused. He shook his head before pulling you towards him. You allowed it, no strength left to struggle. "Only because it's your birthday," he reminded you, and you caught the corners of your mouth turning upwards before you reminded yourself not to be amused by his banter.

His heartbeat was calm and gentle, nothing like the things you knew he could do to you. Ghost turned you both over until he could climb into bed with you, laying you down on your side, facing him and not spooning you like usual. It was a tight squeeze, but with his arms around you, face nuzzled into his chest, it was warm and comforting. Safe—for now.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

You almost didn't want to believe him when he began to sing, keeping his voice low. Ghost never wanted to rourse the suspicion of anyone else that possibly lived next door to you. His gruff voice didn't really fit the upbeat song, even with his accent tingling on every word. This time, you couldn't help but grin at the absurdity of the situation, but you listened, regardless, while being held in his arms as if you were meant to be there.

Happy Birthday dear darling.

Wearily, you closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat mixing with his voice. The man you hated the most was holding you and singing to you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. As if it was meant to be this way all along, almost making you forget the pain and suffering he had caused you in the past. But when he held you like a rare treasure, fulfilled your wishes, and went out of his way to care for you, you almost believed his version of love to be true. You almost started to believe the many times he said he was doing all of this for one reason only: "I love you."

Maybe he did.

Happy Birthday to you.

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 4

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Warnings: the smut you've been waiting for, 18+, p in v, anal play, oral (both receiving), breeding, slight daddy kink

Part 3 here // Part 1 here

“Wow, this is.. Everything I expected.” I laughed, looking around his room at all the leather furniture and black. 

“What’s mine is yours, baby. We could stay here forever.” Negan smirked and kissed me before I had a chance to respond. “We don’t have to think about it right now. Let’s just enjoy this.” He smiled against my lips, picking me up by my thighs and guiding my legs around his waist. Our lips stayed connected while he carried me to the bathroom and sat me on the counter. 

He stood between my legs, pressing the hard bulge in his jeans against me. “I’ve been dying to be between these pretty legs again, doll. You have no fucking clue.” His lips trailed to my neck, as he nipped and sucked lightly at the sensitive skin beneath my ear. He rested his hands on the counter on each side of me as he pushed his hips forward teasingly. “So tired of clothes getting in our way. I need to be buried inside you, baby.” 

I whimpered in his ear while he helped me discard my shirt and bra. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around my nipple, instantly giving me chills with the way he licked it lightly and held it between his teeth. I watched him closely as he stood back and started to undress, my heart beating faster with every article of clothing he removed.

Pulling his boxers down slowly, he looked up at me through his brows before his cock sprang free. It was perfect, like the rest of him. Negan chuckled at my speechless reaction before turning on the water. I finished undressing and stepped in with him, allowing the smell of man soap and Negan to fill my lungs. It was intoxicating, and I needed him in my mouth as much as I needed air.

"Can I, put it in my mouth? Please?" I realized how desperate I sounded but didn't care. I was.

"I'll never say no to that, darlin'." He grinned against my mouth before I dropped to my knees. His cock stood hard and ready for me as I looked up at him through wet lashes, watching the water pour over his wet, black hair. I sucked on the tip, getting used to it stretching my mouth open, before taking more of him inch by inch and gagging slightly when it reached halfway down my throat.

"Come on, doll. You can take more than that." He urged, running his fingers through my hair and gripping the back. "You got this, baby. I wanna feel the back of your throat."

I closed my eyes and took him as far as I could, until my nose was pressed against his pubes. I ignored the uncomfortable sting in my throat, desperate to make him proud.

"Thaaat's it baby, good girl. You gonna let me fuck your mouth? Hmm?" His voice was so deep and raspy it made me clench my thighs together. I nodded around him and opened my mouth wider, making it easier for him. His hips began to move as he fucked my mouth relentlessly, making my eyes fill with tears. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care.

"Ah, fuck baby. So warm and tight, feels so damn good." He grunted while tangling his fingers in my hair. I pulled back suddenly when my lungs ran out of air and attempted to catch my breath. Looking up at him while I stroked him in my hand, I watched his head fall back as a guttural moan escaped his throat.

“Shit, shit fuck, I'm cumming baby."

I held out my tongue as if catching a warm, salty snowflake, and moaned at the taste as I swallowed it down. I never liked it before, but I'd drink anything this man has to offer.

Negan chuckled, looking down at me while his hand unraveled from my wet locks. "So fuckin' pretty with my cum all over you." He wiped some from my eye before smearing it down my cheek and to my lips. I opened my mouth eagerly, sucking his thumb clean.

"Such a good girl.” He praised me, helping me up off the shower floor. “I am the luckiest man in the goddamn world."

Then we kissed until the water ran cold.

“On the bed and on your knees, doll.” He demanded once we made it back to the bedroom. We were both still damp and naked from our shower and I felt a little self-conscious around him like this, considering how perfect he was.

Doing as he asked, I climbed onto the black satin sheets on my hands and knees. The bed dipped behind me before I felt his face bury in my ass. I blushed, never having a man eat me out in this position before.

“Negan..” I gasped, falling forward on my forearms while my ass was in the air. And in his face.

“Yeah baby?” He smiled against my pussy before licking a stripe up to my other hole. His tongue dipped in unexpectedly, making me whimper. “You belong to me. All holes included.” I didn’t have to look back to know a smirk was plastered on his face.

“Negan, please.. just fuck me.”

“Such an eager little slut for me, huh?” He asked, running the pad of his thumb from my asshole to my pussy and circling the outside of it. My walls were already throbbing for him, desperate to be filled.

“Please daddy, I need you inside me.” I begged, hoping the nickname would make him stop with the teasing. Negan let out a dark chuckle before flipping me over and pulling me closer to him by my thighs. 

“Daddy, huh?” He smirked, clearly pleased with the nickname and leaned over to kiss me while grinding his hips into me in the process. “Wanna see that pretty face when I fill you up, doll. That okay?” He asked smugly like he already knew the answer.

I nodded, adjusting my hips to line up perfectly with his cock. He sat up between my legs, running his large hands over the inside of my thighs. "Such a pretty fuckin' pussy, baby." He looked down, watching himself guide his dick up and down between my wet slit before stopping right at my hole and sliding in with one motion. Just when I thought he was all the way in, he kept going until he was balls deep and buried in what felt like my stomach.

“Feels so damn good, baby. Fuck.” He grunted, grabbing my hips and lifting them until he found the perfect angle to slam back into me. I cried out this time, while he fucked me stupidly hard. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I felt my orgasm quickly building.  

After a few more pumps, he pulled out of me suddenly and I whined at the empty feeling left between my legs while he laid flat on the bed beside me on his back.

“Come here, darlin’." He breathed, guiding me over him. Following his lead, I adjusted my legs on either side of him and slid down his length until it filled me again completely. We both moaned in unison while I bounced up and down on his cock.

“Negan.. Fuck.. it feels so good.” I cried out. “I’m - I’m gonna -” 

He held my hips in place above him before he began thrusting up into me fast and hard. The only sounds in the room were my pathetic crying, the slapping of our skin, and his incredibly sexy groans. My head fell back as my finger reached for my clit and rubbed it firmly, desperate to bring myself over the edge. 

“That’s it baby, come all over my cock.” 

His words were enough to get me there, and I finally let go, soaking his lower half with my juices until his thrusts finally slowed. My cheeks burned with embarrassment when I realized I had squirted for the first time in my life. 

“Ohhh sweetheart.” Negan chuckled loudly. “Look at the mess you made all over me. That’s my girl.”

I fell forward on his chest, breathing heavily while my heart beat rapidly. He flipped me over without pulling out until he was on top of me again. This time, he kissed my neck and nipped at my jawline while he fucked me slowly. He whimpered each time my nails dug into his back and his thrusts started becoming more and more unsteady, along with his breathing.

"Negan.. come in me?" I asked hesitantly, not knowing how he'd react.

"Yeah? You sure, baby?"

"Yes, please Negan. I wanna feel it dripping out of me."

"Fuuuuck." He groaned as his balls instantly pulsed repeatedly, shooting his load deep inside of me. He continued thrusting slowly even after he came, kissing my lips sweetly. I angled my hips upward and wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, letting him ride it out until he was satisfied.

"You? Are fucking incredible, baby."

Later that night...

I laid awake, surrounded by darkness and the soft sound of Negan's snores, unable to sleep. I couldn't take my mind off Rick, Daryl, Maggie, and all the others who probably hated me now, thinking I've betrayed them.

My heart ached at the thought of Glenn and what I had just done with the man who murdered him. Was I a terrible person? How could I have seriously let this happen?

I can't stay here. But I can't go home. Not after jumping in front of Rick's gun and letting our whole group down. After letting Glenn down.

After letting myself down.

Slipping out of bed, I carefully threw on some clothes from Negan's dresser and wrapped my foot extra tight with some gauze I found in his bathroom cabinet. I returned to the bedroom, quietly slipped on my shoes, and gave him one last look before I left.

Final part

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