#im almost done with act 1 as well

[mintglacier]

my approval with vampire twink is super high now. need. M O R E. GIMME HIS ROMANCEEE RRRAAAAHHHH

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 1)

masterlist

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner up with fiyero on a history project. things don’t go as you imagine.

a/n: wicked was really good, i love jonathan bailey, and we're coming up on finals season which means im writing about how stressed i am. also halfway through this i realized reader is lowkey paris geller coded lmao. this got away from me so im splitting it into 2 parts, i had a lot of fun writing it so enjoy! also im high posting this so if there's any editing issues im sorry lol!!

wc: 5.5k

warning(s): reader is stressed to the max constantly. she is kinda mean to fiyero but he's into it so it's okay. mostly fluff

Your fingers were beginning to cramp. 

You should have been used to this by now with Doctor Dillamond. You’d been in his class for a few months now, and you graded essays for him often. He often had a propensity for verbosity, but this lecture had been an especially hefty one in preparation for your midterm projects.

He would be announcing partners before the end of class—much to your dismay, for you worked far better on your own than with others holding you down—and you figured you would want to have as much of a head start as possible. 

Great Oz, how you hoped you would be paired with one of your friends. Coralie and Ezura were your only contenders for top of the class—Elphaba had potential as well, not because of the magic she couldn’t control but because of the brain she very well could—and anyone else would frankly slow you down. Doing a large research paper with someone who didn’t care as much as you did would be a drag you didn’t care to go through. 

Midterms were only the most important thing, for they set the track towards finals and affirmed your skill with your assignments, and your first midterm was potentially the most important thing for, when completed successfully, set you on the correct track altogether. 

You tried not to think about it too much (though you failed almost immediately), for you were sure Doctor Dillamond would honor all the work you’d done for him by putting you with a suitable partner. 

“I see some of you are getting restless, so I will cut class short today.” Your eyes snapped up from your paper to see the professor smiling, and you could hear sighs of relief around the room. “I’m sure you’re all eager to know your partners for the midterm paper.” 

The sighs of relief turned to groans, and you had to agree. Assigned partners should have been considered archaic at this point in time. 

Doctor Dillamond trotted back to the projector and, with a bit of difficulty, replaced the image with a piece of paper. Everybody in the class was paired off in groups of two—you immediately started searching for your name, squinting slightly to see despite your spot in the front, and the furrow between your brows deepened when you realized you couldn’t find it. 

You searched instead for your hopeful options. Coralie was with Mayara, Ezura was with Nicholas, Elphaba was with Galinda—of course. You let out a slight huff of annoyance, not just at your disappointment but at the continued lack of your name. 

Perhaps he’d merely forgotten. You didn’t know how Dillamond could have forgotten you, seeing as you were only his best student and literal TA, but things happened. Your anxieties only grew as you heard the beginnings of whispers throughout the room as your classmates saw their pairings, either excited or dismal. 

“Class is dismissed,” Doctor Dillamond said. The room began bustling as students gathered their things, already talking with their friends or searching out their project partner—you heard Galinda squeal and saw her grab Elphaba’s hands out of your peripherals. You could only worry your lip between your teeth as you swept everything in your bag, hardly waiting a second before rushing up to Dillamond’s desk. 

“You didn’t call my name, professor,” you said, managing a smile as you tried to act like it wasn’t killing you. How could he have not called your name? Was there something wrong? Great Oz— had you been somehow moved out of the class? Was your work not exemplary enough? Your assistance not assisting enough? “I don’t have a partner.” 

His mouth opened, but you only found yourself continuing, the words practically tumbling out of you.  

“Of course, if you intended for me to be on my own then I am perfectly alright with that!” Your smile widened as your fingertips dangled over his desk. “I— I prefer it, in fact, so if that is it then there is really no issue at all—”

“Mr. Tigelaar!” he interrupted, and your head turned on instinct to see the eponymous boy arm in arm with Galinda (who was arm in arm with Elphaba) just in front of the door. “I hope you are not about to leave.”

Fiyero flashed a look at his companions before offering one of those easy smiles he seemed to always have up his sleeve. “You dismissed the class. I believe I am part of your class, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, “but you were not assigned a partner. Surely you wouldn’t be trying to get out of the project.”

Your free hand clenched as the threads started to connect. Doctor Dillamond wouldn’t do this to you. Would he?

That easy smile remained on his lips as he turned to Galinda and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and pecked him on the cheek before she walked out, pulling Elphaba behind her, and Fiyero sauntered over. 

“Of course I’m not trying to get out of it,” he said. “Whyever would you think so?”

“Your attempt at a quick exit before you could be assigned a partner,” the professor said. “But it is no matter, for your partner is right here.”

You blinked. He would do this to you.

Why would he do this to you?

“Well, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Fiyero Tigelaar.”

You ignored him, for you couldn’t look away from Doctor Dillamond. Would it be mad for you to strangle a Goat?

“Professor,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “why?”

“Mr. Tigelaar’s grades in my class have not been satisfactory, as I’m sure he is aware.” Dillamond moved away from his desk, prodding the chalkboard with his head to move it out of the way. “I care about all my students, even if they seem not to care for my course. I believe a partnership for the two of you would be beneficial.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you’re forcing me to tutor him because he hasn’t got a brain.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Not tutoring, just working on your midterm together,” he said. “And if you end up teaching him a few things along the way, then we would all be better off, wouldn’t we?” 

“Professor, with all due respect, this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “Why should I have to risk my grade, my midterm, my standing altogether at Shiz just to help him?” 

“Should you perform the way that is typical of you, there should be no issues.” Doctor Dillamond gave you that professorly look and your teeth grinded against each other. How dare he try to take the moral high ground. “Now, the two of you better hurry off. You haven’t got forever to work on this project.” 

“Professor,” you whispered, determined to not let up, “why are you punishing me like this?”

“I’m not punishing you, my dear.”

“Fiyero couldn’t care less about any of this,” you insisted. “I’m going to fail my midterm and it will be all his fault!”

“If you believe he can make you fail, then you haven’t got as much faith in yourself as I believed.” Doctor Dillamond looked at you. “Trust me—and yourself—that this will all work out.”

You stared back—it was rather difficult to have a staring contest with a Goat. “I don’t suppose I can change your mind on this?”

“You’d be correct.”

You huffed and glanced away. “Fine. But expect those test scores to take an extra day.”

He let out a bleaty sort of laugh while you walked away. You considered it a credit to yourself that you held back the childish tantrum you wanted to throw as you moved back over to your desk to gather the rest of your things. You shoved your books into your bag with a bit more anger than necessary, and you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over to see Fiyero sidled up beside you, leaning against the desk next to yours. 

“Surely you won’t be this irritated at me the entirety of our project.” He still had that unbothered smile on his lips, and it made you want to hit him. “It might make this a much more miserable partnership.”

You let out a mirthless laugh as you shouldered your bag. “Don’t act like this pains you. You’re just going to ride my coattails the entire time.” 

“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Fiyero mused. “But now that you bring it up, I just may have to.” 

“For the love of Oz,” you muttered to yourself before mustering the strength to look up at him. “I have a myriad of things I need to do today. Why don’t you go bother your girlfriend for the rest of the day, and then you can meet me at the library first thing tomorrow morning so we can discuss all of this.” 

He shrugged. “Sounds alright to me.” 

“Good,” you said. “Because I meant every word I said back there. I will not have you ruining all my progress thus far because of your absolute refusal to think.” 

“It looks as if you could take a page out of my book,” Fiyero said. “You seem awfully stressed.” 

Your lips tightened into a mirthless smile. “I’m stressed because of you, Fiyero, and we have hardly even interacted. I dread to think of my mental state after a week of working together. Now, good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You swept past him and walked out of Doctor Dillamond’s classroom. You felt his eyes on you until you turned the corner, and you had to resist the urge to look back. 

Oh, how you loathed group projects. 

-

The rest of your day was far more demanderating than it should have been, and you blamed Fiyero for it. You swore the clock went by half as quick and your lectures twice as long—it didn’t help that you were so distracted in chemistry that you nearly burned your eyebrows off from a potion gone wrong. 

You’d practically thrown yourself onto your bed when you got back to your dorm, and you didn’t get up until your roommate got back and demanded to know what had gotten into you. She didn’t exactly give you the response you wanted. 

“The prince is your partner?” Coralie sighed dreamily. “Oh, you are so lucky.” 

“Lucky is not the way I’d put it,” you mumbled, words muffled by the sheets. You finally tore yourself up off your bed and picked your nightgown up from atop your dresser. You went behind your folding sheet and began to change. “And I didn’t know you had eyes for Fiyero.” 

“I hardly have eyes for him,” she said wryly. “I just have eyes—anyone can see that he’s attractive.” 

“It doesn’t matter how attractive he is if he makes me fail this midterm,” you said. You straightened your nightgown then folded your school uniform while you walked back into the open, passing a glance at your roommate as you placed it on your desk. You then settled on your bed with a huff. “I just don’t understand why Doctor Dillamond is punishing me like this. It makes me reconsider all those late nights spent grading papers for him.” 

Coralie shrugged. “You’re one of his best students, Fiyero is probably one of his worst. I bet Doctor Dillamond figured you would be happy to take him on, what with how happily you take on everything else he throws at you.” 

You grumbled as you laid back against your pillows. “I just don’t know if I can take him on. Fiyero seems to care more about flirting with every student at this school than any actual material.” 

She gave you a mischievous smile. “Maybe he’ll turn the full force of his affections on you in return for your studiousness. Oh, how that would be a sight to see.” 

“Don’t even put that idea into the air, Cora,” you scoffed. “Besides, he’s clearly involved with Galinda. Even if I was interested, which I’m not—” you emphasized with a pointed look at her— “that isn’t something I want to touch.” 

“Well, you can’t deny that he’s dreamy,” she said. “He just showed up at Shiz and people started falling left and right. It’s more impressive that you haven’t.” 

“Because I’m here for one reason,” you said. “His whole… thing doesn’t fit into any of it.” 

“I know,” Coralie mused as she fell back onto her pillows. “You’ve told me your whole plan ten times over. I just think you should also try to enjoy your life instead of bulldozing your way through it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I’m enjoying my life just fine, thank you.” 

Interestingly enough, Fiyero was going through something similar a myriad of rooms away. 

He laid on Galinda’s bed, his head in her lap as she trailed her fingers through his hair. She’d been going on about something for the last couple of minutes, but he hadn’t really been able to focus on any of it. 

“Dearest, did you not hear what I said?” 

Fiyero blinked at the sound of Galinda’s voice. He hadn’t indeed. 

“I’m sorry, beloved.” He absentmindedly reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze once he found it. “I was thinking.” 

Elphaba laughed from across the room. She sat on her bed with a book in her lap. “That’s a first for you.” 

“It is,” Galinda said, though with much more concern laced in her voice. Her hand moved from his hair to his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just fine,” he assured. “What was it you were saying?” 

“Just lamenting on how awful it is that we’ve been separated for this project,” she sighed. “I’m sure I could persuade Doctor Dillamond to put us in a group of three.”

“You can’t even get him to pronounce your name correctly,” Elphaba said wryly. “How could you get him to do this?” 

“Well,” Galinda huffed, “maybe you could do it. He appears to like you more than me.” 

“I’m sure that really hurts,” she said. 

Galinda placed her hand on her chest. “It does!” 

“It’s fine,” Fiyero interrupted. “I’m alright with my partner. She’s nice.” 

“Nice?” Elphaba scoffed. “I heard her lecturing you the whole time we were out in the hallway.” 

“She’s passionate,” he decided. “Besides, I don’t really care. I haven’t thought about it since she left.” 

That was a complete lie. In truth, Fiyero hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left. Very strange for someone who preferred to go through life with less thinking and more doing. 

He honestly didn’t know why his mind was so occupied with you. 

He’d always been aware of you, obviously—all your professors adored you, your name was always brought up when talking about top of the class, and he was sure you held the record for most time spent in the library at once—but he didn’t know anything about you other than your academic record. And for someone with such strong opinions, especially about him, Fiyero found himself with the strange need to know more. 

He would be at the library tomorrow. Maybe not on time, but certainly there. 

Fiyero would make this the beginning of a beautiful partnership, one way or another.

-

True to your word, you were in the library bright and early after a quick stop at the dining hall. You went through the effort of gathering everything you thought you would need—a myriad of textbooks and encyclopedias, your well-weathered notebook and another one for Fiyero because you doubted he had one, and enough writing material for the two of you.

You sighed. You had to do so much just to even the ground between your groups and the others. Coralie was always so prepared whenever you worked together. 

Fiyero, to your surprise, was only ten minutes late. You already had your head buried in a book when he said your name and scared you witless. 

Your eyes widened as they darted up to look at him, and he chuckled. 

“Sorry. You were in the zone.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” you said. “You’re late.”

“Hardly.” Fiyero took the seat across from you, his eyes sweeping over everything you had on the table. “You’ve got quite a collection.”

“I doubt you know your way around the library,” you said. 

“I know my way around a lot of things.” 

You leveled your gaze at him. Leave it to Fiyero to make everything an innuendo. “And is a library one of them?”

“I’m sure I could make it one.”

“If you bothered to think at all.”

“Darling, you know I’d never,” he said with a smile. “Now, what are we doing here?”

“Do you really not know what our midterm is?” you marveled. 

“I have more important things to worry about,” he said. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Ridiculous— it was ridiculous that you had to put up with this. Maybe Doctor Dillamond really did hate you.

“Our assignment is an extensively researched ten page paper on any great Ozian,” you said. “Anyone who has contributed to our society in a relevant way and made our lives better for it.”

“A ten page paper?” Fiyero frowned. “That seems a bit much.”

“Between the two of us, it’s just five pages each, and we’ve got two weeks to get it done,” you said. “I’ve written five pages in a few hours of inspiration.”

“Your life truly sounds thrilling,” Fiyero said. “We could do the Wizard.”

“Half the class is going to do the wizard,” you scoffed. 

“Because he’s a great man,” he said. “There’s no shame in it.”

“There is absolutely shame in copying half the class,” you said as you pushed over a sheet of paper to him. “Now, I’ve already got a list going. Look it over; see if there’s anyone you like or anyone worthwhile you want to add.”

You looked back down at your encyclopedia, opened to your personal favorite choice, and continued scribbling down basic notes. You glanced up a few moments later to see Fiyero’s gaze hadn’t wavered from you. 

You frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“You’re awfully prepared,” he said instead. 

“I figured you wouldn’t be,” you responded.

Fiyero’s lips quirked in a smile. “Then I believe that means you deserve to choose our subject.”

Your frown deepened. “Really?”

“Are you always this suspicious of everyone?”

“Just you.”

“Then consider this an olive branch,” he said. He slid the paper back over. “Who’s your top choice?”

“…Ilara Mayfair,” you finally said as you pointed at her on the top of your list. “She was a historical linguist, responsible for half of what we know about Ozian languages and how they connect and differ. She’s…” you cleared your throat and shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, “she’s kind of my hero.”

“Your hero?” Fiyero’s eyebrows rose. “Is that what you want to do?” 

“…It’s always been my dream,” you admitted. “I grew up helping around my parents’ bookstore and her mark was on nearly everything. I really admire it. I want to make that sort of difference in the world.”

“How noble,” he remarked. What surprised you was how genuine he sounded. “It’s impressive how much of your life you have planned out already. All Galinda knows is that she’s majoring in sorcery—she hasn’t really got anything else worked out.”

“What are you majoring in?” you asked.

“Undecided,” Fiyero said. “I was kicked out of my last school before I could declare, so I figure there’s not really a point in doing it here.”

“Not really a surprise,” you said. 

“Really?”

“On your first day, you snuck off campus with half of Shiz to go dance at Ozdust,” you said. “That’s not exactly a good first impression.” 

“I’d argue the opposite,” he said. Fiyero tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you for a moment. His gaze made you uncomfortably aware of yourself. “I don’t recall seeing you there.” 

“That’s because I wasn’t there.” You looked back down at your encyclopedia to avoid his eyes. “I had more important things to do.” 

He frowned. “Do you ever take a day off?” 

“Of course,” you said. “There isn’t any class on the weekends.” 

“I mean with this,” he said, gesturing at all the books around you. “It doesn’t seem like you allow yourself a single moment of respite. When you’re not in class, you’re studying. When you’re not studying, you’re doing work. When you’re not doing any of it, you’re probably dreaming of your future assignments.” 

You felt your skin heat. Surely you weren’t that transparent. 

“...I don’t dream of them,” you defended. “Not— not always.” 

He laughed and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous. Do you know that?” 

You frowned. “How am I ridiculous? You’re incapable of taking a single thing seriously.” 

“And you’re incapable of not taking everything seriously,” Fiyero said. “It can’t be good for your health.” 

“I plan to get out of here a year early,” you said, looking back at your books. “I can’t slack off like you do if I want that plan to come to fruition.” 

“Oh, I’ve gotten out of every school I’ve been in a year early,” Fiyero said. “Sometimes two or three— Oz, sometimes I don’t even make it through the first semester.” 

Your eyes snapped back up to him, widened in instinctual panic. “What?” 

He burst out laughing, and it grinded every one of your gears. “Oh, I wish you could see the look on your face! It’s priceless— truly priceless!” 

“You’ve been kicked out of every school you’ve been to and you think it’s a joke?” 

Still laughing, he shrugged. “It is. Nothing bad has happened, and I’m still having the time of my life wherever I go.” 

You just shook your head as you stared at him, eyes still wide. “Are you always like this?”

“Utterly charming?” 

“Entirely insufferable.”

You didn’t understand how he laughed. Everything rolled right off him, like oil off a duck’s back, no matter how many times you insulted him. 

“You know, there are other things to life than your studies,” he said.

“Not while I’m here, there isn’t,” you said. “It’s the whole point of university.” 

“The point of university is to have fun,” he said. “You’ve seen how this place has perked up since I’ve gotten here, haven’t you?” 

“Not really, no,” you said. “I’ve been more focused on other things.” 

“Like?” 

“Like my studies.” 

“It’s like I’m talking to a broken record,” he marveled. “Have you ever had fun in your life?” His eyes widened comically. “Do you even know what the concept of fun is?” 

“Ha ha,” you said dryly. 

He tilted his head. “Do you?” 

You frowned. “Of course I do.” 

“Okay, then.” Fiyero leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about yourself.”

Your frown deepened. “We aren’t doing a research paper on me.”

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Is it a crime to want to know my partner?”

A muscle worked in your jaw as you stared at him. He stared back, entirely unaffected. 

“If I humor you, will you actually work with me through this?”

Fiyero held up his hand. “Prince’s honor.”

Finally, you broke. You folded your arms with a short sigh then glanced away. “Fine. I’m from a tiny village in Gillikin that you’ve probably never heard of. I’m here on scholarship with the plan to graduate, become a historian, and make a name for myself.” You looked back at him. “Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s excellent,” Fiyero said with a smile. “Dare I say I’ve learned more about you in one short day than I have in the entirety of my time at Shiz?”

You gave him a fake smile as you tapped your book. “Open your textbook. We have a lot to catch up on.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to ask about me?”

“I mean this with all due respect—what could there possibly be to know about you?” You raised an eyebrow as you counted off on your fingers. “You’re from the Vinkus, you’re a prince, and you’ve never read a book a day in your life.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” he chastised. “I’ve read at least one—I just choose not to.” 

“Well, how about we make that two?” You reached across the table and opened his book for him. “Unless that prince’s honor isn’t worth a thing.” 

“Oh, it’s worth everything,” Fiyero said. 

You raised your eyebrows expectantly. “Then prove it.” 

“Very well,” he nodded. “I believe I can be serious for the next… fifteen minutes.” 

“You won’t even get through a chapter,” you said. “Thirty.” 

Fiyero frowned. “You set awfully high expectations.” 

“Why do you think Doctor Dillamond forced me to help you?” you asked. 

“Because you’re oh so nice and charitable?”

That got a genuine laugh out of you. If you’d been looking closer, you would have seen Fiyero’s smile grow, his eyes soften. 

“Of course. Now, go to the glossary, find Ilara, and start writing. I know practically everything about her already, so you need to catch up.”

“I don’t have—”

You held out your extra notebook and fountain pen and cocked your head. “Don’t have what?”

Fiyero chuckled as he took them from you. “You’re prepared for everything, aren’t you?”

“Always,” you said with a satisfied smile. “Now get reading, my prince.”

He pressed his hand to his chest and bowed his head. “At once, my lady.”

-

You looked at the clock on the wall. Fiyero should have been here by now. 

Granted, he was ten minutes late to your first meeting, but that was before he’d changed your expectations ever so slightly. Almost an hour had passed, and there was still no sign. 

Of course, it wasn’t as if it hindered your progress. You kind of always expected him to fall short—if he showed at all, that was a credit to him—so you already had half the outline done. But a small part of you that you’d never admit to might have actually been looking forward to his presence. 

You enjoyed the bout of verbal sparring he engaged you in. A lot of your classmates thought you were mean, and it never bothered you. Like you told Fiyero, you were here for one reason and one only, and the amount of people that liked you at university didn’t influence that at all. Your professors liked you and your grades were perfect—that was all. 

But you couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t… nice. For Fiyero to take everything you said in stride, with a smile and a retort of equal measure.

It was nice. But that was all. 

You were jarred out of your thoughts by someone calling your name. You looked up to see Fiyero sauntering over, bearing his usual smile and not much else.

“This is a library,” you said once he got closer. “You aren’t supposed to shout.”

He took the seat across from you. “I’d hardly call that shouting.”

“You aren’t meant to be loud,” you decided. “Why are you so late?”

Fiyero shrugged. “I lost track of time?”

“You know, we are partners,” you emphasized your last word, “so it would be helpful if you could try to put in the same amount of effort as me.”

“That seems impossible.” He gestured at your notebook with his head, your current page already nearly full. “You’ve got me beat on nearly everything.”

“It’s not that difficult,” you intoned. “I mean, just do some research outside of class.”

He stared at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes. “I don’t know what I expect with you, honestly.”

“Exactly what you see, darling. Now,” Fiyero's gaze drifted over to the window, then looked back at you as he stood up, “what do you say we put a hold on things and enjoy this beautiful day?” 

Your brows furrowed. “What, you mean do our research outside?” 

“Is your work truly all you think about?” he asked in exasperation. “I mean leave the books and your notes and your stress here, and take a stroll around campus.” 

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was ten years old,” you said. “Of course it is. I am not going to have some— some—”

“Some what?” Fiyero interrupted. He still looked remarkably unaffected by your outburst, that sideways smile of his infuriatingly charming. 

“Some ridiculous, pompous, self-absorbed, lazy Winkie prince ruin it!” you exclaimed. 

“Lazy,” he mused. “That’s a new one.” 

“Of course you’re lazy! Why would we take a break when we have a project to do?” 

Fiyero looked at you like you were crazy— no, like he was worried about you. He shook his head. “You really do have a one track mind.” 

“When we’re in midterm season, yes, I d— what are you doing?”

Fiyero had started stacking all of the books you had on the table away from you, then he grabbed your notebook and your pen out of your hand.

“You need a break,” he said. 

“I don’t need a break, and give that back—”

You reached for your materials but only just grazed his hand before he pulled them back and set them on top of the pile. “When was the last time you saw the sun?” 

You scoffed. “I see the sun all the time.” 

“Not from a window in the library or your dorm.” 

You bit your tongue. Fiyero smiled and held out his hand. 

“You need a break.” 

You stared at his hand. He gave you a cloying look. 

“It’s not a good sign that you’re this against self-care,” he said wryly. 

You sighed and reluctantly placed your hand in his. “Fine.”

Fiyero grinned and he pulled you close. You yelped at the unexpected speed and you tumbled into his chest. Fiyero’s hand dropped to your waist, and for a moment all you could do was stare at him, wide eyed. 

“Shall we?” he murmured. 

You jolted away from him once you came back into yourself, your skin burning where he’d touched you. 

“We shall,” you said, a bit too forcefully as you started walking a bit too fast. 

Fiyero chuckled. He matched your pace easily, soon coming up beside you. “You’re already that excited?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bit out. “You’ve already gotten what you want. No need for more.”

He feigned naivety. “What would I possibly be doing?”

You shook your head with a huff. “I’m not entertaining that with a response.”

Fiyero simply hummed. You glanced over at him, still staying even with you, and then you let out another huff as you stopped. He didn’t miss a beat, pausing at the same time as you, then met your flustered expression with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this,” you said, gesturing in front of you with a hand. “So lead the way.”

“Gladly,” he said. “I’m very good at taking the lead.”

Fiyero started walking and, though you had half a mind to take the opportunity and dart back to the library, you found yourself following him. 

Cora’s words spun around your head as you and Fiyero walked together, about him turning the full force of his flirting on you in return for you being such a stickler for your midterm. 

That was the embarrassing thing; you didn’t even think this was half of it, and he already had you blushing—and for what? It was as if you’d never even talked to a boy before. 

You’d had plenty of experience back home. Village boys coming into your parents’ store to flirt at you, leaving notes in your desk in class, offering to walk you home at night—plenty of experience. 

It didn’t matter that you denied them all and never went anywhere because you had a one track mind even then, and that Fiyero had done what no one else had and gotten you take a break simply because he asked nicely—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Fiyero’s arm suddenly pressed against your chest, stopping you in place. Your head snapped up to look at him, mouth already open with questions loaded, but he gestured with his head before you could ask any of them. 

You’d nearly barreled right down the stairs from being lost in your head, without care nor consideration for actually taking the steps. 

“Mind the gap, darling,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you damaging that brain of yours.”

“…Thank you,” you said once you’d regained the ability to speak words again. “One of us ought to have one.”

Fiyero laughed as he took his arm away. “Certainly.” He used it to gesture down the stairs. “Ladies first—unless you’re unsure of your ability to conquer them.”

“I’ll be just fine, Fiyero.” You started the descent, Fiyero right behind you, and you let out another short sigh. 

There had to be something wrong with you. That was the only explanation for why you were acting this way.

Maybe you really did need to start getting more sleep. 

[seraphicsentences]

all mine (pt.2)

closeted/in denial abby anderson x reader

pt.1: you told me your new man don’t make you nut, that’s a damn shame.

please click here!

tags: sub!abby, dom!reader, experienced!reader, mentions of owen, tbh trauma from owen, strap-on sex, cunnilingus, 69ing, dry humping, grinding, nonexplicit masturbation, lowkey voyeurism+exhibitionism ish? there’s plot i swear.

A/N: im well aware that i apologize in every post i make and that its redundant, but im still sorry that i took forever to write.

so. some of this may sound a little familiar from the first part, but it’s simply just drawing parallels between abby’s and your stances on one another.

this gets gradually worse and worse. i think the quality started landsliding once i reached the smut. enjoy!

it’s been near ‘round a week later, and abby’s avoiding you like the fucking devil. in fact— by the way she’s been acting, you think she might even believe so. she’s never felt so inexplicably thrown off. clickers, bloaters… couple of well-aimed shots and they’re no deal. but you? the ghost of your touches haunt her day and night. she’s like a woman possessed. and she’s insatiable.

her once weekly visits to the chapel have become daily: hour-long stays spent on her knees, prayers whispered hastily under her breath, eyes darting to paranoically try to catch potential eavesdroppers.

even owen, the air-headed asshole, has been left victim, or perhaps victor, to the effects of your actions. in a desperate attempt to ease her whirling mind, or rather, to ease the painful throbbing between her thighs, abby’s seemed to have turned to her boyfriend as a last ditch effort.

abby’s newfound flood of arousal, pooling and pleading, only to be met by owen’s two incher every night have had his ego blowing up fucking obnoxiously.

“god, abby, you’re fuckin’ desperate for my dick lately,” he’d gloat, hilariously blind to his girlfriend’s infidelity.

unfortunately for abby, her pathetic resorts have done nothing to quiet the moaning mess of guilt-filled memories. if anything, they’ve done quite the opposite.

she’s been left to the mercy of her palm, heel of it digging into her clit while she’s beside the sleeping figure of owen, straining every massive muscle in her body to give her that orgasm she so badly needs.

it’s to no avail, though. stuck gasping and tearing up against a pillow, her poor pussy crying for some semblance of relief. and what’s left is a week-long edged abby anderson, ms. “top soldier”, who’s back to shooting no better than a freshly new recruit.

what’s up with that, hm?

~

2am now, in the isolated west dormitory’s showers, and abby’s at it again. her body starving for your touch; your sinful, corrupting, addictive touch, and she’s failing to appease her needs once more.

“mmph- fuck, ah-please,” abby begs into her forearm, groaning as two thick fingers plunge deep into her sopping hole, thrusting in and out messily.

it’s exhausting to fuck the way you do. even with her arms the impressive size they are, it’s impossibly demanding to reach every nerve you had reached, filthy sounds echoing along the tile walls, taunting her.

abby knows what’s coming, or really, the lack of it.

skin pink from the heat of the water, she abandons her effort, shutting the stream off with a squeak and ventures the locker room to get dressed for the night.

her mind wanders to you— that’s all it ever seems to do as of recently, and she thinks about how she almost misses your antics. she can’t place her finger on what it is exactly about you that makes her chase every teasing interaction so masochistically.

maybe it’s your lopsided smile that lures her in, or that glint in your eye she gets caught up in. or maybe it’s just that she knows she shouldn’t want you, and it’s so deliciously wrong, and that’s why she’s got to have you.

towel flung over her shoulder, abby makes her way out, only to stop in her tracks when she hears the loud slam of a locker door.

what the fuck? wasn’t the bathroom empty when she last checked??

cheeks burning at the mistaking of her privacy, she swivels the corner, furious to see who the fuck else is using the west dorm showers at this hour. of all the hours.

and, well, abby’s frozen in place when she’s met with the sight of a mystery someone’s bare back. but oh, how she recognizes you, you and your wet hair, slinging droplets down your smooth skin, trailing lower and lower and-

you cough, breaking her trance. baby blue eyes dart up, caught, as you slide your tank on, smirking.

“hey, anderson.”

that just about does it for her. abby slams an open locker door shut, almost sprinting out of the room.

and really, there’s no choice but for you to follow her, practically hunting her down as she sharply turns down random hallways, clearly attempting to outrun you. abby makes a wrong turn soon enough, and you honestly think you might burst out into laughter because of the funny way fate seems to string the two of you together.

the blonde’s backed herself into a corner, and it just so happens to be your residential corner. you can’t help but wonder if she already knew where your room was located.

“scared, anderson?” slips out of your mouth, and it feels significant, reminiscent of the week before. you stare her down, wet strands clinging to her skin to match yours, and it’s like the two of you know what’s to come with your words. the inevitable.

you’re not sure which one of you moves first, rubber band of tension snapping as your lips collide in a catastrophic sort of way. you’re scrambling to blindly dial your dorm code in and tugging abby by her shirt in a tangle of limbs and saliva.

“i’ll play nice,” you pant, “even after that disappearing stunt you pulled last week.”

abby laughs, whispering, “whoops,” under her breath before pulling you in for another dizzying kiss, tongue eagerly curling into your mouth like she’s been waiting years for a taste.

you wrap your fingers around her hair with a tug, and the low groan that escapes from the back of abby’s throat has you repeating the motion again and again as you veer her backwards to fall atop your bed. you follow, straddling her, not wanting to spend a second apart from the fucking drug that her mouth is.

your hips grind down on their own, burning and desperate for stimulation. abby, in return, wraps a strong hand around your throat, pulling you even deeper into a sloppy kiss to swallow your moans as she pushes her hips up to meet yours.

“fuck,” you gasp, clit catching against the seam of your shorts with every roll.

abby’s mind has gone blurry with arousal, drunk off the satisfaction of finally getting what her body’s begged for. every pretty noise that slips out of your mouth sends pulses of pleasure straight through her bundle of nerves, and every touch of skin has her feeling set ablaze.

but as always, she needs more.

she maneuvers you easily under her big frame, your head tipping back in a soft whine as she latches herself onto your throat, biting and soothing your skin over.

she’s lodged a leg in between your own, mimicking your position as she wildly bucks her hips down onto you. “please,” she breathes out, tears welling in her eyes with how foreign this feeling is. she can’t bring herself to care about how needy she’s acting, because to starve, is to take anything.

“just like that, baby, you’re soaking my thigh,” you coo, continuing to dry hump her leg like she’s nothing but a toy to you. the whimper she lets out at the name you call her is downright criminal, and the way her movements pick up have you groaning it out again. “c’mon baby, make a mess of yourself for me,” you grab her meaty hips, grinding her harder down against you.

“gonna-“ she gasps into your neck, before shuddering against you as she cums with a cry, muscular thighs holding you so desperately tight in place. you almost scream, caught in the iron grip she has your body in, stopped so close to your own finish. you dig your nails into the flesh of abby’s hips, hearing her moan as the pain mixes with pleasure, and echo the sound yourself as the burning in your core starts up again.

“just let me, for a minute- i need you- just stay here, shit,” you ramble, gripping her hair for leverage while you fuck yourself faster against her thigh.

every twitch of a muscle beneath your soaked pussy has you reeling, unable to wrap your mind around what a massive fucking crime it is, for another woman not to have experienced the absolute blessing it is to have abby anderson’s defined-ass thigh to grind on.

you glance down at abby, and the fucked-out expression she has on, all watery doe-eyed as she peers up at you, mesmerized, has you throbbing enough to match your heart rate.

curse after curse flies out of your mouth as she attaches her mouth to your neck again, biting down as you let go of that coil tugging on your navel.

abby’s no sooner clambering atop you, diving in to taste your sounds as she scoops you onto her lap, practically growling, “fuckin’ get over here,” under her breath.

as your vision returns, she attacks your mouth with a sloppy kiss, colliding teeth, and you’re unbearably hungry for more.

“let me- i’m gonna taste you,” you breath out, shoving abby’s back down with a push.

she falls back with a soft thud, eyes not leaving you once. “please, fuck- taste me, have me,” abby affirms, scrambling to tug her shorts off.

the massive soaked patch at the center her boxers have your eyes rolling into your skull. “shit, anderson,” you run a finger over her clothed slit, giggling as she jerks her hips up.

“shut up,” she rasps, her words harsh, but the small smile on her face says otherwise.

you grin up at her, “didn’t say anything,” before licking a fat stripe up her covered pussy.

her response is immediate, hands fisting into your hair to pull your mouth closer, actions the epitome of more, more, more.

you flatten your tongue, licking, and meshing her arousal with your saliva to entirely soak her boxers wet. you wrap your lips around where you guess to be her clit, based off the place her legs tremble when your tongue reaches it, and suck hard.

“there,” abby whines out, back flying off the mattress, and you’re so very desperate to see what other fun reactions she has in store for you, you grab at her waistband to unveil her pretty dripping pussy.

up close, face to face, you get to really admire the work of art she is. the divets of muscle adorning her thighs frame her pussy almost in a greek-goddess sort of way. light brownish-blonde curls of hair that reach out to your mouth, trying to pull you in closer. she’s beautiful. you’re in complete control of her right now, and holding the reins of such an unreal being has you groaning into her slick eagerly, hands holding her spread wide open while you feast.

you’re dipping your tongue into her sopping mess, teasing and thrusting, feeling her gummy walls flutter around every brush of the muscle. you dart a thumb up to circle her puffy clit, red, from her earlier actions, and the way abby’s legs kick up— almost hitting you in the face, has you giggling again into her pussy. the vibrations of your laugh make abby squeal, thighs clamping around your head, and then she’s tugging at your hair, chanting, “stopstopstopstop,” and you, of course, oblige immediately.

your face comes up covered in her wetness, arousal dripping from your chin as you lick your lips in an halfhearted attempt to clean yourself up. “sorry, sorry, i- did you want me to stop?” you ramble, concerned that you might’ve gone a little too far this time, getting yourself involved with a taken straight girl.

abby’s face flushes a deep red, even darker than it had been from your actions, as she catches her breath and looks away. “no, i- can you, uhm.”

you catch on to her hesitation, newer to sex thats more than just, well, dick. you rub her calves soothingly, “use your words, baby, you got it.”

she visibly gulps, thighs pressing tight around your body, “can i?” she asks, almost sulkily as her hands move to tug at your shorts.

“oh-!” slips out of your mouth, surprised, “yeah, yeah you can.”

she lets out a soft okay, tugging harder now, slipping her calloused fingers under your waistband as well so as to drag both down together. abby’s groans, low and heady, at the sight of your glistening pussy, practically dripping down your thighs from just getting her off. “this too,” she murmurs, sliding your tank off before you can blink.

she’s pulling you in closer, as if she’s in a trance, as she wraps her lips hesitantly around one of your perked nipples. the high-pitched sigh you let out is more than enough encouragement for her to continue, warm tongue flicking at it as she sucks around your breast. “is this okay?” she pulls away to whisper, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she looks up at you, eyes wide.

“fuck- yes, just,” you push her head back in, her lips abiding immediately as they gently pull at your nipple, teeth grazing the most sensitive parts of your chest as you arch your back into it, quiet moans ringing in her air.

all of a sudden you’re being turned around, confused, until your hips are being lifted up towards abby’s stuck-out tongue and you’re shaking with your face pressed to her thigh while she experimentally kitten-licks around your hole, unknowingly teasing you.

her nose brushes ever-so-slightly over your pulsing clit as her tongue passes just over your dripping mess, and it has you crying out, “there, please- right there, please,” breath hot over her own throbbing pussy.

her hips jerk up at the sensation, and you take the hint— latching your lips around her own clit and stuffing two fingers easily into her hole, moaning at the feeling of her squeezing tight around you.

it’s no wonder abby’s the top soldier of wlf. for a girl who’s only ever been with the most lacking, vanilla man ever, she picks up fast. each action of yours is borderline self-serving, with the way abby’s mimicking every move not even a moment after, so adorably eager to please.

abby had this insistent need to pull every pretty sound from you, whether she got it through grazing her teeth against your clit, or curling a thick finger against your g-spot, she was determined to hear it— to the point where you thought she might’ve even needed it. and it’s what made sex with her so intoxicating.

she wasn’t like any of the other girls you typically hooked up with, and that’s not to say the girls you usually got with were bad to fuck… they just weren’t as invested in your pleasure as you were with theirs. and as the type to get off on giving rather than receiving, this was especially new. you’ve never been with someone like you. and god, does it take the cake.

abby’s really coming to terms with all the ways she can use her especially large everythings to make you feel good, murmuring into your pussy, “‘m fuckin’ splitting you open with my fingers, pretty,” as she pushes in a third finger to your sopping hole, relishing in the squelch that comes with the thrust.

your thighs shake around her head, stimulated beyond compare as you continue your ministrations on abby’s pussy, humming mhms into it to encourage more of her bolder ventures.

“mm-fuck, can feel you choking my fingers. you gonna cum, hm?” she mumbles cockily, the high from your reactions sending her mind into a frenzy.

“shit, please, need it so bad,” you croak out, taking only mere seconds apart from tonguing down her puffy clit.

“ah- god, me too, pretty. cum on my tongue,” she says, and the fucking vulgarity of it, so downright shocking to hear from ms. straight christian prude over here, has you riding your orgasm out, trembling heat overtaking your body like a california wildfire. matched moans come from beneath you, as abby’s hips fuck up against your mouth, legs flexing deliciously as the two of you reach your peaks together, the world slowing.

you slide your body off of hers, turning around to be met with a sight to behold. your cum, all over abby’s mouth, shining on the tip of her nose, remnants leaked onto her chin— and you have not a doubt you look the same mess. you yank her into a sloppy kiss, fluids mixing in your mouths in the most animalistic nature.

“i’m not done with you,” you say, eyebrows scrunched as you take in her fucked-out expression.

“i know,” she whispers, “give me more,” she breathes out.

abby slips out of her tank, finally, using the cloth to gently wipe your face and hers, action a bit too intimate for what you guys have, but neither of you decide to call out on it.

“you gonna let me fuck you?” you ask quietly, running a hand over her chest softly, enamored, as abby shivers from your words.

“please fuck me,” she whimpers, tone all pouty and petulant as she watches your hand trace ambiguous shapes over her skin.

“so polite,” you tease lightly, pulling her in for a brief kiss before reaching over to your bedside drawer and pulling out your favorite strap, just the one for the special girl in front of you.

8 inches, hot pink, with a slight curve to it, but most importantly, never been used on anyone other than yourself, by yourself.

“it’s so-“ she stutters nervously, thighs rubbing together in anticipation as you secure the toy onto your hips.

“pretty?” you finish, unable to help your laugh as she looks at you, so clearly not thinking of your response.

“yeah,” she shrugs, “suppose it is.”

it’s quiet in the room as you finish latching the silicone dick onto yourself, the two of you settling into the weight of your impulse-fueled actions.

you gently pull open her closed legs, settling yourself between them as you tease her entrance with the tip of the toy, covering it with her cum. you then spit down onto it, twisting your hand around to coat, and hear abby ask, “what’re you doing?”

you continue to prep the toy with easy motions, committed by memory, “i know you’re soaked, anderson, but it’s still a dick you’re taking, baby.”

“i just mean- i, you know,”

you hum, “owen doesn’t put in the effort, huh? and i bet you’re not even a quarter as wet for him as you are for me,” scoffing.

“don’t-“

“it’s the truth though, isn’t it?”

“…yeah.”

“that’s what i thought.”

you thumb her clit in circles, using her slick as lube to rub over it smoothly, relishing in the way abby’s head falls back and her hips jolt up. “that’s it, ease up for me,” you murmur.

you prod again at her entrance with the toy, sliding the tip in slightly as she hisses, “‘m sti-still sensitive.”

“and you’re gonna take it like the fuckin’ slut you are, anderson, aren’t you?” you tsk, pushing a couple inches more into her.

“shit- yes, yes ma’am,” she whimpers out, legs threatening to close from the new stretch.

“because even after all that time in the shower, nothing can fill you like i do,” you finish, thrusting the full length of you into her tight pussy, abby nodding repeatedly as her back arches up.

her moans pick up alongside your hips, voice breaking with every thrust as you push into that one sensitive spot deep inside with obvious expertise.

“so, s-so go-od,” she cries, hands gripping into the bedsheets as she searches for some tie back to reality.

you smirk satisfactorily, fast pace fueled by the sight of abby’s open mouth, drool spilling out the sides as her voice grows hoarse from constant use. you fuck her hard, strength channeled from the anger you bore against her homophobic attitudes, and jealousy you garnered towards owen and his idiotic male self.

you lock your eyes with abby, sweat dripping down your face as you zero down on her, slamming into her pussy with no reprieve. “no more owen,” you say, each word punctuated by another deep thrust.

“this is so wrong, this is so fucked,” abby rambles, nervous eyes darting around the room so as to avoid your gaze. her eyebrows are tugged together, head shaking no: but no to argue your words, or no to agree with them?

“has something so wrong ever felt so good?” you pant out, “tell me baby.”

“i can’t, i can’t, i can’t,” she repeats, torn between what felt right in her head, and what felt so right in her heart. “turn me over,” she babbled, not wanting to head-on face the fucking sin-filled act she was committing.

“you tried running, baby. and how’d that work for you?” you ask, fed up. “you’re still back here, a fucking mess, and all for me.”

“what’s it gonna take for you to face the fact that you’re getting fucked by a girl, and it’s so much better than anything you’ve ever experienced?”

abby’s eyes scrunch tight, trying to tune you out, but her moans still wrench out from the back of her throat, guttural and unstoppable.

you slide out finally, earning you a soft whine of disagreement, toy dripping with her slick with the tip pressed against her folds. “look at me, abby.”

and fuck. she’s never taken notice to the fact that you’ve never said her name before—but god does it sound so pretty coming out of your mouth. and god is it enough to make her wrestle her eyelids open and stare you dead in the eyes, blue clashing with the darkness you reeked in.

“say that again,” she whispers, look full of pleading. 4 letters, 2 syllables, but it has her core tensing and her heart racing a mile.

“tell me you’re mine, abby,” you breath, and she almost finishes right there and then.

“i’m yours,” she says, a single tear breaking free from her right eye, baptizing her skin, absolving her of guilt.

“good,” you choke out, bottoming entirely into her as she releases a cry. your movements quicken, ravenous, chasing the sweet whines that fill the room.

abby’s tits bounce with each thrust, and you reach down to give her sensitive nipples a pinch, making her reach an all time new height of pleasure. her chest heaves, curses slur, as she squirms under your touch, nearing an unbearably overstimulated state.

“feels- gonna cum,” she moans, barely holding on.

“cum for me,” you demand, needing to see her fall apart now more than ever as you pound into her harder, fingers rubbing harsh circles into her clit.

“s-shit,” she gasps, throwing her head back as her walls tighten around the toy, “‘m- fuck, god- fuck! ‘m cumming!”

loud squelching noises overtake the room, complete with the sight of abby writhing beneath you as spurts of her juices drench your moving cock.

her chest heaves, mouth open in a silent scream as she comes down from her high, squirming with overstimulation.

you can see the moment her brain clicks, panic in her eyes clear as her skin turns pasty white.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to do that i don’t know how-“

“abby.”

“-that happened ive never done that before, like who-“

“abby.”

“-fucking pisses on someone like that i’m so sorry ill clean it-“

“ABBY.”

her eyes shoot up to meet yours, frame cowering as she mumbles a quiet apology again, so obviously uneducated in the realm of half-decent orgasms.

“you squirted, abby, you didn’t piss on me for christ’s sake. it was hot. now don’t worry about it, i’m very honored,” you chide lightly, cradling abby’s heated face in your hand.

you stand up, grabbing a clean towel and wetting it with warm water from your kettle. striding over, you spread abby’s legs lightly, running the towel gently over her worked-out center, breath hitching, hips jerking with your touch.

“why are you- you don’t have to-“ abby stutters, grabbing your wrist.

you pause, confused. “abby, i’m not a fucking dick, contrary to belief,” you scoff.

she doesn’t let go. “no that’s not what i- i didn’t mean it like that, it’s just, you know.” she waits for you to look up at her, before looking away. “you don’t have to fuss over me.”

a laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it. “you mean owen doesn’t-? yeah, who am i kidding, of fucking course he doesn’t ‘do aftercare,’ god, what a dick!” you groan, facepalming.

“abby, baby, this is fucking normal. owen just sucks,” you smirk, her cheeks flushing at your words. “let me take care of you,” you continue more softly, nudging her grip off as you drag the towel over her sternum next, cleaning off any remnants left from the two of you.

abby’s quiet now, eyes following your every movement, curious almost, a bit hesitant— as if she’s not sure what to do with herself in the meanwhile. she’s stiff to the touch, frame shrunken now due to the sheer vulnerability of it all. bare as the day she was born, and touched like she’s never done wrong a minute in her life.

she doesn’t know how to feel about it. wisps of hair tickle her nose, and so she scratches it, pushing her hair away, tugging it behind her ears. and you’re right there on it, wordlessly turning her around as you begin to comb through her hair loosely, pulling it into a simple braid. the same hairstyle she displays everyday, always done by her own hand: tight, knot-free, and burning into her scalp. a reminder to remain true to her virtues, live by strict rules, and not stray from the lord’s path.

but the way you braid is so different. you’re careful to tie in the tickling wisps, but not harsh. effective, but not pushing. with owen she feels like an accessory, but you make her feel like someone worth worshipping. and so, the only burning she feels is not on her scalp, but behind her eyes.

you do notice the subtle tremble in abby’s shoulders, droplets trickling down her cheeks as you weave her hair through, but you make no comment on it. certainly not with the way your own hands fumble her golden strands, fingers shaking into the knots. you tie the end of it up.

“i should go,” abby whispers, standing to grab her scattered clothes.

you remain seated, mouth opening and closing like a fish, as your lips struggle to wrap around the words your heart is singing out for.

you settle on one.

“stay,” you blurt, louder than you intended, the word ringing in the tense air.

abby freezes, hand outstretched towards her tossed shirt. her head edged just the slightest bit towards you, like subconsciously, she was waiting for you to say something.

“just- stay,” you whisper this time, more unsure. waiting for the rejection you know is to come. and while your brain is screaming for you to let her go, your eyes are hooked onto abby’s figure— searching intently for the smallest signal of her response.

you see her breath catch in her throat.

“okay,” she whispers back, and her head turns just enough for your gazes to lock, matched desperation surging.

she’s drawn back to the bed like a magnet pulled to its twin, the mattress dipping as she settles in the space beside you.

and abby feels the heat of your drilling stare, one she refuses to return. she has no more fire left in her, not for you, just contemplation. a longing for more, an urge to savor, an ache to feel.

so abby faces the door, and you face her back, waiting for the day she’ll turn around.

so what did we think guys?!?? this was 4.7k words. crazy.

ok. so notice the tear coming from her right eye during that whole end part of the sex. note that it came from her RIGHT eye. scientifically speaking, that’s a tear of joy. BOOOOOOM MIC DROP.

i, unfortunately, shot for the stars and tried to make this deeper. hard to do that when you’re not in touch with your emotions. so now you guys are stuck being confused. good luck!

anyways. the final scene is supposed to represent where they metaphorically stand in their relationship. reader is trying to bond with abby, or at least making an effort to, hence her facing abby. abby can’t come to terms with all this, but she’s trying! she’s not fully accepted the homosexual part of herself though, the side that comes out with reader, so she’s facing the door. FACING IT, not leaving through it. ;)

also, yes, owen goes in dry. it’s canon. do not come at me.

taglist:

@pricefieldsuperiority @heartlexs @graviewaviee @liaphrodite @k1ngpin42 @deadbolted @be3flow3r @mrsabbyanderson

@rob1nbuckl3ys @vivispace @bookpagecandlescent

@thelosstvalkyrie for photo creds ty baby <3

[frazzledfawn]

flight risk

john wick x fem reader, minors mdni

synopsis: life was perfect, despite what your parents wished for you, you had all you could possibly want. surely your husband wont wake you up at 2am and drag you across the world, uprooting everything you've ever known.

authours note: this is the first thing i've ever written AHHH AHHH AHH, thank you for reading though!! oh my goshhh, i'm so nervous.

cw: drugging, guns, suspected kidnapping, morally grey but also not john, john just wants his wife guys </3

it had been exactly 3 years since you had uprooted your life after meeting john. which sounds like a major sacrifice, because well sure, thats how your parents viewed it. the confused pinching of your mother's eyebrows as she fiddled with her wedding ring told you that. 

you didn't need to be a genius to recognise that perhaps your father didnt trust john, slipping pepper spray into your purse and a pocket knife onto your keychain as you said goodbye in the airport. maybe it was an act of rebellion moving away, far away. sure you were naive, but in a specific way. you had seen shit, a lot of shit, but you made an active choice every day: see the good. is it indescribably cliche? absolutely! but hope kept you going. 

so when you stumbled upon a particular six-foot man with a limp, you tilted your head both in awe and intrigue. your first dates were awkward, almost forced. he was incredibly vague about every little detail in his life and so naturally, you chalked that up to ‘he must not like me.’ when you asked about his family, he responded that he didn't speak to them. when you asked about his job, you got the typical ‘im a contractor’ response. what the fuck is a contractor? what are you like a spy? psh. 

but he was sweet, a gentleman too. paranoid and perhaps vigilant to a fault, but you didn't ask questions. he was just being overprotective, which was nice in your eyes. you fell deeply in love with him, getting married 2 years after meeting him. you pieced together his career. he would call you a pacifist when you commented on the number of guns he seemed to own casually. which sure, wasn’t exactly a lie. but he didn't view the world as black and white, and therefore neither should you, you decided very quickly. 

it was your anniversary so you decided to set up a beautiful, intimate dinner at home. he arrived and you pushed him away to put on some slacks, even though it was just the two of you. he would chuff, kiss your temple, and oblige. so there you sat, serving dinner, walking over to his side of the table to pour him merlot when you accidentally bumped the bottle with your hip, knocking it off the table. you let out a yelp, frozen as you watched him catch it effortlessly without breaking eye contact with you. there were 2 things to note about his actions. 

1. you were unquestionably sure that this must be the most attractive thing anyone has ever done, fuck.

2. the speed of his reflexes did not match the job description or the skillset that belongs to a ‘contractor’

the dinner continued, albeit awkward because you had questions. and to your surprise, he wasn't so vague. now he was being blunt to a fault. which you suppose married couples are. 

“im a hitman” he stabbed a shrimp sitting on top of the pile of pasta, bringing it to his mouth with a sense of casualness that was unnerving. haha. funny.

so naturally, you giggled as he chewed. 

“a hitman? john that’s- ridiculous. can you be serious for a moment? i love your jokes, but this is our anniversary dinner.” you laughed softly into your wine glass, tilting your head and propping your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on (an action that would have caused your mother to hit the back of your hand with her fork due to the improper manners you were displaying).

“not a joke baby” he hummed almost with a solemn look in his eye. the reality of the situation hit you like a freight train when he reached out to hold your hand over the table, drawing soft, soothing circles on the back of it. not a joke. it wasn’t a joke. 

he slept on the couch that night. maybe it was harsh, but no- no, he deserved that. you married a man, a hitman. who lied about his entire career and kept guns under floorboards, you didn't even know could be kicked up. alas, trust was built back up. he reassured you he only killed dangerous people who did bad things. life wasn't so black and white, you realised once again. it took a while, but you fell back to the stage where you trusted him again. 

he came home late some nights, and left to go overseas every now and then for a week or so. but he would come back with little souvenirs for you: wine from rome, chocolate from switzerland, and jewellery from india. he made money that you could only dream about, but who can put a price on taking someone's life? 

you adored him though. maybe it was fucked up, maybe you were sick and twisted. but your husband would kill for you without hesitation, and you couldnt lie to yourself and say that fact didnt turn you on at least a little bit. 

you both moved to tokyo, right in the middle of the city about a month after this dinner. relocation seemed to be a common theme, but new cities and new languages were always exciting for you. and he assured you all was well, but you had your suspicions. maybe he feared someone he pissed off would come find you, even the score and put a bounty over your pretty head. 

you enforced the fact that if you were going to sleep with guns in the house, they all needed to be locked away in gun safes. there needed to be rules, and trustworthiness for this to work. john lied, he kept a hidden one in his bedside table, and another under your bed alongside the others in the safe. 

the rain pelted, it was a sunday night, well morning technically you realised. pretty much all of japan had been hit with a tropical storm, which meant that sleepless nights in your shared highrise apartment came with built in ‘white noise’ sounds from the thunder outside. though this night, you slept soundly. it was about 1am when you faintly heard footsteps, belonging to john you assumed. 

talking in incoherent sleep babble, you didnt open your eyes, you just mumbled ‘john..?’ muffled by your pillow. whoever it was stopped what they were doing and walked over. 

“mm, hi baby. it’s me. go back to sleep mkay? it’s late.” a silky smooth voice surrounded you in a blanket of warmth and you mumbled an i love you and drifted back off.

unaware. he waited until you were out cold before he started haphazardly shoving belongings of yours into a suitcase. he proceeded to zip it up and prop the suitcase against the wall next to his own. on top of his suitcase laid two drivers liscences, marked with photos of the two of you, but with different names, addresses, birthdays. identities. you stirred in your sleep as a calloused palm gently cupped your cheek, whispering your name. your eyes blinked open sleepily. 

“hi my sleepy girl” he looked down at you, perched on the side of your bed with a soft smile, still dressed. which was odd, why wasnt he in his usual sleeping sweatpants? you sleepily blinked up at him, looking over to your digital clock. 1:47am. 

“mhmhphmh?…” you mumbled out, an unspoken question as if to say come to bed, what are you doing? your eyes fluttered closed again, snuggling back down.

“honey, need you to wake up for me, kay? im sorry, i know, i know..” he gently rubbed your back, biting down on his cheek until he drew blood, loathing himself for what he was about to put you through. his sweet, sweet girl.

“eyes open, open them up for me.” he gently tapped your cheek and begrudgingly open them, sitting up looking unimpressed. 

“it’s 2am i wanna-” you yawned softly, covering your mouth. “wanna sleep john, just come to bed.” your eyes shifted around the room landing on the packed suitcases. suddenly sleep no longer felt like a priority. 

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, tucking your hair behind your ears as you looked to him for answers wordlessly. he sighed softly, a deep one that he had clearly been holding in for a moment or two. he gently stood up, holding out a hand for you to take and pulling you up, walking you to the walk-in robe. 

“i know you’re confused, and probably scared. you trust me, don't you baby?” he looked down at you as he rummaged through clothes that belonged to you. he settled on a sweater and jeans. 

“trust you..? of course i do.. i just don't, john.. what's happening?” you asked, almost with hurt in your voice, a conviction of what was about to occur. 

he gently walked back over, mumbling a quiet ‘arms up’ as he slipped your nightgown off, putting a sweater on you, and passing you jeans to put on. 

“it’s just a precaution baby. don't want to scare you, okay? we’re just going on a trip for a little bit, okay?” he said calmly as you zipped up your jeans and slipped on converse. you swallowed thickly as he put a baseball cap on your head.

“an incognito sort of trip?” you said with disappointment, realising all too well what this trip meant. “where? you know i panic when i fly, i can't get on a plane, john.” he kissed your forehead softly, washing away any doubt. 

“there are eyes and ears everywhere, baby, we have to be quiet about this, just have some faith in me, i wouldn't purposefully put you in a dangerous situation, yeah?” he walked out, sliding her fraudulent id into her pocket. it was like a whole double life he lived. she had no idea he had these made, did he have fake passports too? emergency cash stashed somewhere? you followed him like a lost dog as he picked up your suitcases. 

“we aren't coming back here, are we? to this apartment?” you asked in a flat tone, one of hurt and despair. he gently shook his head, giving you a solemn smile. you disappeared into the kitchen, dumping everything in the fridge into the bin. 

“honey? what are you doing? baby- i.. we have to go, now.” you looked up at him, rushing to shove perishable items into the bin. 

“i dont want to leave the apartment in disarray, someone will realise and come and look, and i dont want the owners of the building stumbling across rotten food. its the polite thing to do.” you said, mindlessly stepping into action. 

“very polite. clever girl. we dont have time for that though, baby. come on. need you to listen to me and focus.” he held out a hand which you begrudgingly took. 

you suddenly yanked away, running back into your closet, to which he sighed pinching his nose. 

“baby. i won't tell you again,” he said, short. pointedly. you reassured you would only be a minute, running back out with your wedding garter in hand, shoving it into your suitcase. wedding albums, dresses, suits would all sit here and haunt your empty apartment. 

you needed to take something with you. he noticed what you did and looked down at you like you had punched him in the gut, pained, hurt. he gently cupped the back of your head, bringing you forward to press a pained kiss to your forehead as he cursed under his breath.

“im so sorry sweet girl. i just need to keep you safe, you understand that, don't you?” you gave him a brief nod, a faraway look in your eyes. 

he led you out into the hallway, and then ushered you into the elevator as he took a phone call. he spoke in tongues, well, that was what it sounded like to you. codewords and a whole different language. something eastern european you guessed. you perched a seat on top of your suitcase, as he spoke. he looked over to you and continued speaking, reaching down to pick up his suitcase, phone held to his ear by his shoulder as he pulled your suitcase along with you sitting on top of it. he hung up the phone. down another hallway. suddenly you were in the apartment building's garage. he led you to a black suv. you looked at him confused. 

“you drive an aston martin, and this isnt my kia sport.” 

“no, it isn't your kia sport. get in, honey, come on.” you sighed, still so many unanswered questions as he ushered you in, doing up your seatbelt. 

“i didn't know you were bilingual,” you said, looking down at your converse, chewing your lip. you didn't know what to say, too many things to ask. 

“what language was that?” 

“ukranian.” he spoke softly, driving you through the city, he passed you a bottle of water that was in the car. “drink, you need to stay hydrated.” 

“john im scared, i don't understand any of this and i need to call my dad, tell him what's happe-” he gave you a knowing look. sighing softly, holding out his hand for your phone. 

your furrowed your eyebrows, but trusted him. passing him the phone. he dropped it onto the floor of his car and stomped the foot that wasnt on the accelerator onto your phone, smashing it. you let out a loud gasp of shock, confusion. he had a stone cold face as he rolled down the window and threw it out of the car. 

“john!” you choked out, in disbelief. 

“don't fight me on this sweetheart. i need you to listen to me and do what i say, okay? im trying to keep you safe, and that isn't going to work if you have your phone on you. you cant be traceable.” you sat there, realising the weight of his words. 

“i asked you to drink, baby. please.” you scoffed, a little attitude now. you wanted to throw the water in his face or tell him to shove it up his ass. he was being vague again. not answering your questions, ordering you around. but you conceded and drank, he watched you out of the corner of his eye. 

you sipped, thinking about how much your family would worry when you didnt answer their calls, would they file a missing persons report? i mean, they didnt know what john.. truly did. oh god this was going to be messy. you gulped down the water, curled away from him. was it petty? sure. but you wanted to know you weren't happy with him. 

you sighed sipping the water and suddenly the bottle slipped from your hand, sloshing onto your shoes and dribbling down your lips as you tilted your head almost in slow motion, realising what had happened. john didn't react. why wouldn't he react? oh… oh.

“john, i feel dizzy n’ fuzzy or something.. i dont-” you slurred out, not recognising your voice, you sat confused as your head lolled back into your seat and you slipped into unconsciousness. 

fuck,  john swore under his breath. the guilt was going to eat at him alive. he needed to get you on a plane, a private unlisted one of course, far away and off the grid. but he knew he would have to drag you on kicking and screaming, your phobia of flying would ensure that. that would be loud, and messy. next best solution? 

mildly drug the love of your life to make the transition smoother. god you would never forgive him for this, but it’s something he was doing for you, he tried to convince himself.

the unmarked suv pulled up to an open field, somewhere in japan. an undisclosed location. there was a plane under a huge tarp waiting, he pulled the tarp of the smaller plane, it was only built for two. he never mentioned he could fly a plane, or that he had fake passports made up, or that he spoke multiple languages and had various safehouses built.. nothing of the sort. but why would he want to worry your precious mind? there was nothing he hated more than seeing the look of fear on your face. 

he shoved the luggage in and sighed, cursing again as he slung you over his shoulder, walking up the two steps to the plane, sitting you down and strapping you in. tears welled in his eyes at the sight of you sitting there, looking so vulnerable. he gently pulled your head up to slip on the headphones and closed the plane door. as he strapped in, the plane roared to life and suddenly the two of you were in the air. 

he landed the plane somewhere in sweden. a field. where he of course, had another unmarked suv waiting. he killed the engiene, swallowing his guilt as he slid your headset off and scooped you back up, wiping a small line of drool from the corner of your mouth, your jaw had gone slack. 

you stirred slowly, words slow to come out of your mouth, still a little slurred as he drove around sweden. something garbled and entangled, adjacent to ‘john?’. he clenched his jaw, inhaling softly before deciding to pull over, if you slapped him, it would probably be best if the car was stationary. 

he turned to look at your sweet face. waiting for you to speak. you winced softly, your head aching, limbs like jelly. groggy. 

“you..- did you?” you mumbled out with bite. you had pieced it together as you passed out. he didnt react, because he was expecting you to fall unconscious, because he have you water he had previously drugged. 

“i had to get you on a plane. without you pulling my hair or screaming.” he said calmly, staring straight forward. 

“i might just fucking kill you, actually, ive decided.. im your wife!” you yelled, and he flinched. “you deserve this, john” - he spoke to himself in his mind. 

“my darling girl, i know. i know..” he winced as you continued your rant. 

“you fucking drugged me! with what? what was it? some fucked up sedative im sure you have lying around in our apartment. oh! im sorry, our old apartment. i cant do this. where the fuck are we? im going back home.”

“cant tell you the drug. it’s something from somewhere, we can call it that. we’re in sweden, i have a safe house being set up but we need to stay in a hotel tonight.”

“oh! fantastic, we’re in fucking sweden and my husband practically used a date rape drug to knock me out.”

“honey please dont ever use the word ‘rape’ and ‘my husband’ in a sentence together, ever again. clear?” he said sternly looking at you.

you sighed softly. “im sorry- i didnt it mean it like that. but im still fucking seething with you.” he turned the car back on, turning back onto the road. 

“which is entirely fair. you can slap me when we get to the hotel, alright baby? i just need to get you somewhere while we wait for the safehouse.” he said softly. 

you grumbled something out but relented. “im not going to slap you, you’d somehow get off on that.” you blurted out and he chuffed under his breath, knowing that would be true. 

you arrived in a hotel, a fancy one at that, he spoke to the front desk. luggage at his side. oh great, he speaks swedish too. you glared at him as he spoke. he walked you to the elevator. 

“honey?” you said with a deceiving smile and anger in your voice. 

“yes dearest?” he responded with equal sarcasm.

“next time i comment on the fact you’re bilingual, maybe correct me and say trilingual.” 

“polygot actually, 8 languages.” 

you turned your head to look up at him, and yell. but the elevator doors dinged and opened, revealing a sweet looking couple. you bit your tongue and he stepped aside letting the couple out. he had the nerve to strike up a conversation with them as you looked at the ground, no idea what was being said. 

“åh vilket underbart par!” the woman cooed softly, nudging her husband who agreed smiling gently. 

“ah tack så mycket, det här är min underbara fru. kul att träffa er båda, men vi måste komma till vårt rum. önskar dig lycka till!” john spoke and your eyes widened softly at the accuracy of the accent, he dragged you into the elevator. 

“i love you. i love you so much. please realise im doing this for you. to protect you.” he said, holding your cheeks softly in his palms as the elevator rode up to your floor. 

“i love you too. im just confused, and scared.. i wouldnt have gotten on a plane otherwise, im still peeved you did that though.” he nodded, kissing your forehead.

“i know baby, how about i run you a bath and we can order some champagne and talk? would that be alright?” you nodded softly as he walked you to your hotel room. it was lovely, luxurious even. he ran the bath and you stripped, slipping in and sighing in bliss, closing your eyes. 

you heard him speak on the hotel phone, probably ordering champagne, and he checked the hotel room, paranoid. the champagne never came, and so he sighed, poking his head into the bathroom, looking at you in absolute awe. you turned your head looking towards him.

“im just going to run down to see what’s taking so long, okay baby? i will be right back, two minutes at most.” you nodded softly. 

“that’s okay. ill be here… and john?”

“hm?”

“i love you.” he smiled walking over to kiss you delicately, looking into your eyes.

“i love you too. two minutes, time me.” he murmured before disappearing. 

two minutes later, almost exactly - if you had bothered to time it, you heard the door click. you smiled to yourself, closing your eyes softly as you relaxed in the bath, bubbles covering you. you heard the footsteps approach the door. 

“john? dont bother with the glasses, just come here.” you called out, assuming he was going into the hotel room to collect the glasses. he never responded. he always responded to you. 

“john?” you called out, voice wavering. it’s not like you could call him. but surely it was him. you sighed, stepping out, wrapping a towel around your body. soap suds rolling down your chest as you padded out into the bedroom part of the hotel room. he was nowhere to be seen. 

“john? baby?” you mumbled softly. it all happened so fast.

you had no time to react as a hand clamped over your mouth from behind. another grabbing your waist, hand around your towel. your short towel. you kicked, screaming, muffled behind the hand. trying to kick out the feet from behind you. you halted, inhaling shakily when you felt something cold press to the side of your head. this wasn't john. 

likes, reblogs and comments are so so so incredibly appreciated.

i love you!

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I was wondering if you if you could do a smutty In-ho x fem! Reader x Gi-Hun. Something along the line of they are both pining and see each other go to talk to reader alone and decide to wait. In-ho talks to her during lights out and Gi-hun talks to her doing mingle. In the final fight, she goes with either in-ho or Gi-hun and the stand of at the end, ends with them deciding to truce for a moment and share reader.

A/n: OMG A smutty story with both the hottest daddies!? Yet people keep the requests coming because I have many more to write! I hope to post at least 3 stories a week only because I am returning to my job after my holiday vacation! ALSO regarding the TAGLIST IDK why it won't let me add people like some it won't bring their name up SO I am not sure how to fix that RIP Im sorry y'all!!! ALSO, late tonight or tomorrow my part 1 of my 4-part Gi-Hun story is coming out!! (Hints of In-ho x reader) will also be in the story! Next week I'll have 3 more requests stories done!

Trigger warning: SMUT

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader x Gi-hun

Love and War

Being in the games was the last thing (Y/n) was expecting, or at least in a life-or-death situation. She took a breath, looking over the group she was lucky enough to be in. Gi-hun did not hide the looks in her direction. Her (e/c) orbs meet his. (Y/n) could feel her cheeks warm up as Gi-hun winked. She turned away, looking at the ground quickly. How could two people be so obvious in their lustful looks? Their group quickly picked up on their subtle hints, flirtatious works, mindful touches, and lustful gazes. However, it sparked a rivalry between Gi-hun and his newfound friendship with Young-Il. The other gentleman also expressed his feelings towards (Y/n), which did not go unnoticed. (Y/n) happily reciprocated the attention she received from both of these handsome bachelors. It was lights out, and as normal, their group gathered in one spot, taking turns on night shift duty. Many thought of them as one of the strongest teams for now. In-ho sighed deeply as he was woken by Jung-bae. “Your turn.” He whispered. In-ho only responded with a grunt getting up to take his place by (Y/n). In-ho looked over her figure. It honestly pained him to lie to (Y/n) of all people. While scouting for participants, he would collect all their data and reasoning for poor financial situations. He never showed favor or pity towards anyone until now. Why did it have to be her of all people?

“I can take watch by myself if you need me to. I want you to have all the rest. Especially for the next challenge… I am nervous to find out what it may be.” In-ho whispered. She gave him such a warm and loving smile. In-ho had not felt butterflies like this in his stomach in so long the feeling was almost foreign. The way her eyes would almost sparkle while gazing into his. In-ho felt his breath be taken away every time.

“No, I won't allow you to not have a partner. We agreed on pairs of two. I am going to be fine. I could say the same for you, Young-Il.” She gazed into his eyes and before anything else could be said In-ho leaned in kissing her deeply. (Y/n) gasped but did not pull back once his warm lips dominated hers. In-ho cupped her cheek before letting his hand trail down squeezing her beast. “W-Wait.” Her voice seemed weak from the desire but quickly In-ho stopped all his advances.

“Fuck (Y/n) I am so sorry if I hurt you.” His eyes showed nothing but absolute worry.

“Young-Il, you didn’t hurt me. I just. We cant I-”

“You love Gi-hun. Don’t you?” He asked.

She looked away rubbing her temples. “I am unsure who I like. I have feelings for you both but if we act out on them… If you or him dies I would never be able to get over your death, or is..” She leans against In-ho resting on his shoulder.

“I understand…I love you.”

“I… I love you as well.” (Y/n) whispered cuddling into him.

….

After the night the next game had started early that morning, and (Y/n) had not been expecting what was to come. As the game commenced it felt very intense making sure the groups had the correct amount of people in each room. They even teamed up with new players they clicked with instantly. As it began getting lower in numbers for each door (Y/n) became nervous. She felt Gi-hun grab her hand gently. “I got you.” He whispered. Once the merry-go-round stopped and the number was ‘2’ he instantly took off with her ultimately forgetting about any of the others. Even shamelessly (Y/n) did not even look back for In-ho. Once in the room the door instantly shut. The female leaned against the wall as Gi-hun was breathing heavily on the other side of the room, “Gi-hun, are you okay?”

Gi-hun did not bother to answer before walking over to (Y/n) and kissing her deeply. The female lets a shaken moan out as their bodies are pressed against each other. His hands hold her waist before lowering down her backside and cupping her ass. “G…Gi-hun, babe, we cant.” Her body was on fire for this handsome older man.

“You love me… I know you do.” He let you go resting his forehead against yours.

“I…I do love you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you. I can’t be with you Gi-hun. I wont risk getting attached-”

“Is it because of Young-Il? Is that the true reason? I heard you both talking last night. I know you have feelings for him of some kind… I want to know if he-”

“No, my love it's not because of Young-Il… I care for you both but if I got too attached and lost either of you I… I wouldn't be able to ever move on.” When the doors unlocked she took his hand, “Talk later okay?”

Gi-hun nods walking out as their hand in hand. In-ho instantly noticed and sent a glare at Gi-hun who met his gaze with a stronger one.

…

(Y/n) was soaked in her friend's blood as she was on her knees. Gi-hun and Jung-Bae beside her on their knees. In front of them stood a man who organized the games. With a quick hand motion from the man in the black mask, Jung-Bae was pulled away. Gi-hun went to help but a gun was quickly pulled out.

“Don’t” (Y/n) begged, tearing up. Her eyes widen as the gun slowly is lowered.

“I love you (Y/n).” The Front Man whispered she glared into his eyes.

“I hate you.” She glared. In-ho took a moment before removing his mask. Both (Y/n) and Gi-hun gave his a look showing all their bundled up emotions. “You… are the Frontman. HOW COULD YOU!” (Y/n) cried loudly .

In-ho leans down, “My real name is In-ho, I joined yes, but I never expected to fall in love with you! Please… Let me have you before anything else happens… Gi-hun.” He turned to his friend who reluctantly nodded they both desired you and that over powered all current feeling. The triangle guard let Gi-hun free before leaving.

“Please lets forget about all of this. For a few moments.” Gi-hun adds agreeing with In-ho. What felt like eternity she agrees.

Gi-hun instantly pulled her against his frame smashing their lips together. In-ho kneels down pressing against her back side kissing up (Y/n)’s neck. The female moaned loudly into the kiss as her body is sandwiched between theirs. “Fuck.” She gasped as Gi-hun trailed down to the other side of her neck. In-ho proceeded to slides his large hands under her shirt cupping her bare breasts. Her nipples already were hard. “Ngh! (Y/n) whined as he pinch them roughly pulling her buds harshly.

“Take her shirt off.” In-ho growled.

“Slide her pants down.” Gi-hun adds. (Y/n) had no time to react before her shirt was being lifted and sweatpants pulled down swiftly. Once practically naked she puts a hand on their bulges rubbing both men. They let out a shaken groan each, Gi-hun’s voice held a submissive tone while In-ho growled dominantly. Their already hardening cocks were at full attention. Gi-hun’s leaking precum at the tip. In-ho leans his forhead against (Y/n)’s shoulder cock twitching as she worked both touch starved men.

“F-Fuck I’m close.” Gi-hun whined.

In-ho chuckled,” Baby slow down before he blows a load in your hands. Let us inside of you.”

“MMmm… But will b-both fit?” She asked inhaling as Gi-hun reached down feeling her soaking wet panties.

“Fuck you are soaked honey. Did jerking us off turn you on that much?.. Yes dear we will both fit.”

(Y/n) nods and spreads her legs, In-ho nods to Gi-hun, She arches, feeling both their cocks brushing her entrance. “AHH FUCK Gi-hun. In-ho!~” (Y/n) was held up by the men who began roughly thrusting into her tight and warm pussy.

“Fuck baby you are tight.” “Your pussy was made for your us.” “Going to fill you up.”

Both of their praises made the knot tighten inside of her. “FUCK!” She cried out as their cock meet the perfect rythem until she felt the euphoria hit all at once. Her pussy clams down making both men cum deep inside. The three now lay there panting in pleasure. (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“I love you both.” Her voice is strained. Gi-hun instantly responsed with a quick ‘I love you back’ .

In-ho sighed deeply kissing her cheek knowing nothing would be the same after this. He loved her too much.

[cryptidclaw]

Whisperingclan Year 1!

Introducing Whisperingclan! my very haunted clangen clan with a terrible leader!!

I drew these guys MONTHS ago so this art is kinda old now T-T I finally am posting them tho...

I kinda want to draw more yearly updates but I may not draw every cat... it depends on how im feeling and how much time I have :P

...

Whisperingclan lives in the mountains next to the territory of their origin clan Roaringclan. Many of the clan founders were a part of a coup in Roearingclan to make Tempeststar, at the time Tempestwhorl, deputy or leader... they were instead defeated and banished.

The founders wandered together through the territories outside of the clans... as they drew nearer to the mountains they began to hear strange whispers on the wind. Following these whispers they found themselves deep in the mountains in a cave filled with crystals that seemed to whisper with a chorus of their Starclan ancestors.

That night they slept in the cave, and in her dreams Tempeststar was named a leader of a new clan, Whisperingclan, by Starclan themselves. The new clan now calls themself the clan closest to Starclan, and they have made their camp within the Whispering Cave claiming that they are its protectors and the only cats who can be trusted with it's power.

...

I am now continuing this clan's story with updates for each moon!

First Update HERE!

...

Below is each cat from the lineup + a description of their character and what they have done in the clan's first year!

Tempeststar!

Tempest is a very cold and cruel cat who acts purely for her own gain and power, she HATES when others undermine her or disagree with her. She uses the fact that Starclan spirits guided her clan to the Whispering cave as proof that her new clan, and her as it's leader, is the most close to Starclan and must not be questioned no matter what. She doesn't truthfully care much about Starclan, beyond what they can do for her, but she likes to but on a devout follower act to get what she wants and come across as holier than thou.

So far Tempeststar's leadership has been filled with her "teaching" cats who stand up to her lessons by attacking them and forcing others to help her. These common demonstrations have lead to her almost always having injuries and the death of two clanmates. Ravenblur was the first to die, he had followed Tempest's orders in attacking his previous apprentice but succumbed to the injuries he sustained. Jaggedlark, the cat Raven had attacked, died next, her determination to call out Tempest needed to be stopped.

Tempest likes to find cats who she can manipulate and use to do her bidding, her original cat she used for this was Ravenblur, who was happy how maim and kill for Tempest. Now it is the ex-kittypet Creekslip (who was the one to kill Jagged) who is less enthusiastic about her unspoken job as attacker and executioner

Tempeststar also became mates with her deputy Blizzardchase and is now expecting their first litter! They are both very evil so their children will be very messed up im sure <3

Blizzardchase!

Blizzard is a cocky cat, she is well aware of how strong and skilled she is and she is not afraid to make that known. She deeply respects Tempest and was one of the first cats to join her coup. Along with respecting Tempeststar, Blizzard also has big gay feelings for her and was NOT afraid to share this, she decided that evil woman would be her mate and she wooed her (probably with evilness) until she got Tempest to fall for her lol.

Blizzard hasn't been up to much this year other than normal deputy duties and being in love with her evil wife... she trained Mossleaf but managed to impart none of her attitude and outlook on life to the young cat. Blizzard is currently doting on her mate and is very exited to see her kits next moon.

Bramblespeck!

Bramblespeck was not always a healer, she was a warrior in Roaringclan, but she joined Tempest's rebellion as she had always looked up to her... She was banished alongside everyone else and was the first cat to begin to hear the whispering, she was the one to lead the way to the cave and through this she realized she had been chosen to be the clan's healer.

Bramble has found her new job difficult as she only had warrior training, but luckily Frostfleck had plenty of healing knowledge that he could share with her. Frost has really been her saving grace this year as he always takes over for her when she gets injured, which seems to be quite often, she's so accident prone. Bramble is also super relieved that Whiskers joined the clan since they really needed another healer...

Whiskers!

Whiskers is a cooky lady with a fascination for the stars and herbs. She began to hear the cave's whispers while wandering alone and followed them straight to a Whisperingclan patrol... after hearing of clan life she decided that being a healer would be the perfect role for her in life and asked to join the clan. The clan is wary towards letting in too many non-clan cats but they need more members and healers so they reluctantly agreed.

Whiskers can often be found staring wide eyed straight into the cave's crystals, studying the movements of the stars, or telling cats off for not properly respecting their ancestors.

Creekslip!

The resident blorbo, absolute soggy sad beast... she is going to cat hell unless she stops this shit lmaooo

Creekslip has extreme abandonment issues and a fear of not being excepted, and left behind. Her twolegs abandoned her in the woods and left her to learn how to survive on her own, she's strong now, but she is desperate for a home. Creekslip joined Whisperingclan on their third moon, she felt a pull to this place after wandering the woods close to the mountains, she now questions every choice that brought her here, but she cant leave... she cant handle being alone again.

A moon into being in the clan Creekslip was given an apprentice, Sunpaw, as a chance to prove herself, but she became ill soon after, and Tempeststar took on much of Sunpaw's training. Creek could feel Tempest's judgement towards her... she failed at the first task she was given, and she was determined to prove herself to the clan and the leader. Tempest could sence this desparation and she saw the potential in it...

When Jaggedlark once again stood up to Tempeststar and Tempest called on Creek to aid her in teaching the young cat a lesson... Creek was desperate for a chance to prove herself and went through with it, she had too... Jagged died later due to the injuries Creek delt her... this haunts her. Despite this however Creek continues to be Tempest's new cat to call on to beat fear and submission into the clan. Creek is to fearful to stop, but she hates what she has now done, and continues to do.

Anyways I love her she keeps committing crimes but she is so sad :(

Frostfleck!

He has Whitestorm vibes, but like if Whitestorm was a part time healer.

Frostfleck was a loner and joined Tempest's group before they found the cave and became a clan. He isn't into all the bad vibes of the clan but he likes the idea of being in a clan and having community, plus there are plenty of good folks in the clan and he choses to stick close to them. Frost has lots of knowledge in healing though he enjoys warrior duties more, he is an unofficial part time healer, and he takes over whenever they need more help in the healer den! (in game I make him a healer when i need more healers , these cats hurt themselves so often T-T)

Skipspot!

My kind transboy, i love himb , I feel like he just joined the clan to make friends and have community.

he has barely done anything because he just joined the clan, but he has already befriended Sunmane and gave her advice on telling Mossleaf how she feels... ig I can thank this man for finally getting Sun to confess to Moss lol.

Butterflyfreckle!

Butterfly is like the opposite of Creekslip, she was a kittypet but she chose to leave her home for adventure! She is confident in herself and is great at making friends, she keeps away from the bad parts of the clan and just enjoys herself. She has done pretty much nothing this year though hehe.

Weedpatch!

Weedpatch was Tempeststar's apprentice and she convinced him to join her coup through this, he did so mostly out of fear and also because his cousin Jaggedpaw and her mentor had agreed to join as well... Weed always looked up to Jagged.

Both Weed and Jagged regretted their choices to follow Tempest, but it was too late, and they were facing the conciquences of decisions they made as dumb kids. Jagged became angry after the banishment, but Weed just became... quiet. He doesn't like to get involved in any of the clan conflicts, he stays by himself as much as he can with Tempest having been his mentor. He used to spend most of his time with Jaggedlark, she was his best friend, but then she was killed, he doesn't like to talk about Jagged anymore. These days, Weedpatch, living up to his name, copes with his trauma by being high on catmint half the time.

Mossleaf!

Mossleaf was a kit in Roearingclan, the banished cats literally just stole her, she is actually the Roaringclan leader's daughter, hence the stealing, they wanted some vengeance. Roaringclan think Moss is dead but nope! She's just in the spooky cave cult!

Mossleaf is very aloof and strange, she likes to listen to the Whispers, and while most cant decipher them it seems like Moss might actually be able to hold a conversation with them. Bramblefleck thought Moss should become a healer but Tempest promised to give Blizzardchase the next apprentice available, despite this Moss doesn't seem to mind being a warrior though.

Moss became very close to the other apprentice at the time, Sunpaw and they became so close it seemed one could never be found without the other. They seemed to have crushes on each other from the start and it was no surprise when Sunmane confessed to Moss and they became mates soon after they both became warriors. I love them both sm they r cuties <3 (the not evil gays)

Sunmane!

Sunmane is my favorite design... I love her lion mane and her bangs sm she is so CUTE

Sunmane joined the clan as a kit and before they found the cave. Her grandfather Flowermoon was trying to find a group to support them both, Sun's parents were gone and Flower was getting old... the strange group of cats was the best choice they had at the time.

Sunmane likes to stay positive and tries to lighten the mood with some jokes. Her apprenticeship was tough, and now that she is free from Tempeststar she is staying far away from her. She spends almost all her time chilling with her mate Mossleaf and trying to enjoy her life despite all the things that go down in the clan.

Larkcaw!

Larkcaw is the starclan guide and was the main spirit to guide the cats to the Whispering Cave... she is evil actually, how did she get into Starclan??? I'm pretty sure the only reason she is in the good place is bec she didn't obviously do anything evil... she just plotted.

Lark decided to lead her great granddaughter Tempeststar to the Whispering Cave, she convinced other spirits that a clan living there would be a GREAT idea, despite the fact that it is actually very bad for cats to live in a cave full of that much Starclan energy. It can easily mess with a cat's mind, especially those with a stronger Starclan connection.

Larkcaw really just wanted control over a clan, and what better than making a new clan backed by a powerful Starclan source?

Flowermoon!

Flowermoon is Sunmane's grandfather and became her caretaker after her parents died, he joined the group because he knew he needed cats who could care for Sun and him as well since he was getting old, he is unsure of his decision, Tempeststar is cruel, but he knows Sunmane has found friends and joy in the clan despite it all. Before his death Flowermoon spent much of his time telling stories to the kits and apprentices, he passed away of old age, and now watches over his granddaughter <3

Jaggedlark!

Jaggedlark was Ravenblur's apprentice back in Roaringclan and due to this she had spent much of her apprenticeship around Tempest and her followers. She was convinced that the coup was a good idea and even played a role in convincing her cousin Weedpaw of the same thing. After the coup and subsequent banishment however, Jaggedpaw began to see the truth in what kind of a person Tempest was... she grew to despise the leader. Jagged became a warrior on the clan's first official moon, but Jaggedlark became even more confident in speaking out against Tempeststar's actions after this and this would sadly lead to her demise.

On the same moon that she became a warrior, she angered Tempest by questioning one of her decisions, Tempest called on Jaggedlark's own previous mentor, Ravenblur, to attack Jagged alongside Tempest to teach Jagged a lesson. Jagged would end up wounded from the fight, but not nearly as much as Ravenblur who died of his injuries a moon after... Jagged was devastated, her mentor had attacked and betrayed her trust, but she had killed him, didn't that make her just as bad?

A few moons later Jagged would end up being made an example of again when she began speaking out against Tempest even more than before, even questioning her place as leader... Jagged would die like her mentor, dying a moon later from blood loss.

Ravenblur!

Ravenblur died almost immediately, but i hate him, I sent him the the dark forest >:)

Raven was one of Tempeststar's biggest followers (a Darkstripe to Tigerstar sort), he did anything Tempest asked of him, even attacking his own previous apprentice Jaggedlark. He is VERY mad that Jagged ended up killing him, he feels he deserved more from life... he wanted more power like Tempest and Blizzard, and Jagged took that away from him...

[joaosnovia]

HELLLO TIS I

okay so no.1 the theme ate SO HARD??? im drooling and i am on my KNEES

anyhow here to req a joao fic !!

so like what if reader is a ballerina or figure skater and she obvs comes home with like cuts and bruises from training and comps and stuff and basically joao makes thee BIGGEST fuss over it

like it can be treated with time but no. that man will bring a whole medic bag to treat the TINIEST cut and will overreact to every single injury she has !

this is so shitty but i requested this to someone else *uhm uhm evelina uhm uhm* and she has NOT written it yet so i'm frolicking here

you can ignore this if you want bc the idea is shit but yeah idk i js wanted to req something

BYEYEYYE HAVE A GOOD DAY / NIGHT AND ILYYYYY <33

MWAHHHH

❦ - delicate.

summary:: well there isn’t much to summarise bro 💔.

warnings:: none?

writers notes:: first and foremost i love this req and im tryna make my fics longer but idk how to drag it on yk? but i think if somewhat figured it out! ALSO EVE I MANAGED TO DO IT BEFORE YOU 👅👅👅👅👅👅👅.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb

joão swore he almost had a heart attack the first time he saw them.

the tiny, angry red cuts littering your feet and ankles, some fading into soft pink scars, others fresh from your last competition. you had always told him ballet was tough, that it wasn’t just twirling around in pretty dresses, but nothing could have prepared him for this.

you were sitting on the couch, legs stretched over his lap, casually scrolling through your phone like nothing was wrong. meanwhile, he was staring at your feet like they had personally offended him.

‘what the hell is this?’ he blurted out, his fingers hovering over one particularly deep cut near your ankle.

you glanced at him, unfazed. ‘what’s what?’

‘this,’ he practically whined, gesturing wildly at your feet. ‘why do you look like you’ve been fighting for your life?’

you snorted. ‘joão, relax. they’re just cuts from my pointe shoes. they’ll heal.’

‘heal?’ he repeated, horrified. ‘how long have they been like this?’

you shrugged. ‘i don’t know. it happens all the time.’

his jaw dropped. ‘all the time?’

you sighed, putting your phone down. ‘it’s normal, babe. every ballerina deals with it. my feet just need time to recover between competitions.’

joão wasn’t hearing any of it.

‘this isn’t normal. this is self-destruction. why didn’t you tell me?’

‘because i knew you’d react like this.’

he scoffed. ‘of course i’m reacting like this! you’re literally injured and acting like it’s nothing.’

you groaned, throwing your head back against the couch. ‘joão, they’re fine. it’s not like i broke something. they’ll be healed in a few days.’

but he was already shaking his head, carefully lifting your foot to examine it closer.

‘you should’ve told me,’ he muttered, brows furrowed in concern.

‘what would you have done?’ you teased. ‘wrap me in bubble wrap?’

he didn’t answer, which told you exactly what you needed to know.

you laughed, cupping his cheek. ‘you’re ridiculous, you know that?’

‘you’re the ridiculous one,’ he shot back, still frowning at your feet. ‘how can you just ignore pain like this?’

‘because i have to. it comes with the sport.’

he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

‘so what, you just suffer in silence?’

you bit your lip. ‘i wouldn’t call it suffering. it’s just part of the process. like how you play with bruises or minor sprains sometimes.’

joão blinked, then scowled. ‘not the same thing.’

‘it’s literally the same thing.’

he huffed, still clearly displeased.

‘okay, but do you at least take care of them? like, properly?’

you hesitated for half a second, and that was all the answer he needed.

‘you don’t, do you?’ he accused.

‘joão—’

‘unbelievable.’

before you could stop him, he was already up, marching toward the bathroom.

you sighed, knowing exactly what was coming.

he returned moments later with a first-aid kit, a determined look on his face.

‘babe, really?’ you groaned.

‘yes, really. you clearly need someone to take care of you since you won’t do it yourself.’

you rolled your eyes but let him take your foot in his hands. he was surprisingly gentle, his fingers light as he dabbed at the cuts with antiseptic wipes.

he paused when you flinched, looking up at you with wide eyes.

‘does it hurt?’

‘not really.’

his glare told you he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t argue. instead, he carefully applied ointment to each cut, blowing softly on your skin like it would somehow make the sting go away.

you watched him work, your chest tightening.

‘you really don’t have to do this,’ you whispered.

he glanced up, his gaze softening. ‘i want to.’

you smiled, threading your fingers through his hair.

‘you’re a little dramatic, you know that?’

he snorted. ‘yeah? well, you’re a little reckless, so i guess we balance each other out.’

you laughed, letting him finish bandaging your feet.

when he was done, he pressed a kiss to each foot before meeting your gaze.

‘no more competitions for a while, right?’

‘not for a few weeks.’

‘good. because i’m making sure you actually rest this time.’

‘yes, doctor félix,’ you teased.

he smirked. ‘damn right.’

he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he needed to keep you safe from the world.

you sighed, relaxing into him.

maybe having someone fuss over you wasn’t so bad after all.

but joão wasn’t done.

for the next two days, he treated you like you were made of glass. he wouldn’t let you walk barefoot around the apartment, claiming the floors were ‘too rough.’ he brought you socks, ice packs, pillows, anything he thought might help, even though you insisted you were fine.

‘joão, i can literally walk perfectly. i danced on these feet last week,’ you reminded him.

he scoffed, tossing you another pillow. ‘yeah, and look where that got you.’

‘oh my god.’

he followed you around, ready to catch you at the slightest sign of discomfort. if you so much as winced, he was at your side in seconds.

‘are you okay?’

‘joão, i stubbed my toe.’

‘that’s how it starts!’

you groaned, shoving his face away.

but as much as he annoyed you, you knew it came from love.

late at night, when you were curled up in bed, he would trace the scars on your ankles with gentle fingers, his touch barely there.

‘you work so hard,’ he murmured against your skin.

‘so do you.’

‘yeah, but i don’t bleed for it.’

you turned in his arms, brushing your lips over his.

‘this is what i love, joão, and i know you hate seeing me hurt, but it’s part of what makes me strong.’

he exhaled, pulling you even closer. ‘i just wish i could take the pain for you.’

you smiled, tucking your head under his chin.

‘you already do, in your own way.’

he kissed the top of your head, whispering, ‘always.’

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to carry the weight alone.

[skele-doll]

God i hate men who victimize and act oppressed. Tell me why i saw a bunch of butthurt men in the comments of this one video saying shit like "Opened up once.. never again." "And they wonder why we dont talk to them.." "This is why we dont talk about our emotions" like LMFAO WHATT For reference, the video was of this man sitting outside alone with a spool of wire, His wife said "What are you doing out here alone? I thought you were working?" and he said "This spool of wire has been with me for 40 years, and now its almost gone, look at what's left of it!.." and he was laughing and smiling. His wife had been filming him, confused on why he was sitting out there alone and concerned. In the end she said something along the lines of: "Oh, im sorry you feel that way, but im a little concerned because youre wearing your jetts hat and i thought they lost" and the man said "Goodbye" and rolled his eyes before getting up and leaving. There are MULTIPLE issues with this. The most prominent one here being the lack of communication on the mans end. She thought he was being happy because he was smiling, he didn't tell her he was out there because he was feeling sad or down, he just said something and she thought he was reminiscing. And because of this miscommunication, he got mad. He could've just said "No, i was out here because i feel like life has just been flying by recently. Can we sit here and chat?" and she would've listened, i mean, she came out there to check on him and was obviously concerned sooo..??

Also, people got pissy about her saying "i thought you were working".. LMAO?? She's just asking because she didnt expect to see him outside alone as its getting dark. The fact that she asked about his jetts hat as well makes me think he's done something irrational before when the jetts lost. I feel like men just can't communicate at all 🤷‍♀️ The men in the comments saying they'll never open up again over (1) issue is just sympathy seeking. They can literally find another person to talk to?? Think guys.. If you met someone who really messed you up, would you go looking for someone who acts just like them?? No. You'd avoid those types of people. So, it is EXTREEEMMELY easy for these men to just find new friends and people who will listen if they know who to watch for. 🤦‍♀️ This is so different from what women face, yet they find ways to compare us and see who has it worse despite the facts. Women run into evil people regardless of whether were looking for them or not. I was 15 when some 20 year old dude got into a relationship with me and groomed me. When i tried to leave, bro threatened to go back to the military and get himself killed. (He wasn't ever IN the military, he just wanted to make me feel guilty.) Little girls, young women, and mature women, will always have some asshole trying to get with them or some asshole trying to harass them. They cant simply walk away from that unlike men.

[ashomodeus]

How the OM bros + Dateables react to walking in on M!Mc in just a towel after a shower.

Notes: Bad grammar, I haven't written in 2 years, I'm rusty. Though the Mc in obey me is gender neutral, or advertised as such, I just wanted to write about a M!Mc. Probably smut warning- actual smut warning. Milking mentioned and other kinks as well, probably. Sorry, it's all over the place. I'm writing this with a killer migraine and whilst at work. Consider this an I'm backkkk. PLEASE SEND REQUEST IM SO UNORIGINAL. Or even send a request on a full story of one of these scenarios.

Part 1: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi

Part 2: Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie

Part 3: Solomon, Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon

I would like to thank Beyonce for everything...

Lucifer

●He was interrogating everyone after a prank gone wrong (right)

●He opened the door with full force calling Mc's name.

●He looked around the room and saw Mc holding his towel that was not so modestly placed on his hip.

●Procceds to walk in the room and close the door. He stares at Mc taking in the lovely view.

●Luci... FOCUS... He pretends as if there's not an almost fully nude MC in front of him.

● "Mc do you know about this prank?" He questions, Teasing Mc now knowing Mc wouldn't know about the prank since they were showering.

● Mc tries to explain that they were showering Lucifer smirks. He takes one good look at Mc’s body and grabs the door handle.

●"Mc please be aware that if you are changing or anything else to lock your door. I don't want anyone else to look at you like this. You're mine after all. That being said, please remain like this I will be back shortly.

● Lucifer locks the door behind him. He finds the culprit and punishes them accordingly. Lucifers mind is normally full and a single thought was the impossible but here he is. Thinking about Mc's perfect body. How every droplet of water made him just sparkle.

● He walked into Mc’s room and sees that Mc’s is still in the same part of the room that Lucifer told him to stay in.

●He walked over to Mc and removed the towel. He observed every part of him, Admiring his beauty.

●"Now let me show you all the things I want to do to you" Lucifer pulls Mc close to him.

Mammon

● Was running away from Levi. He darts into Mc’s room Hiding on the bed. Mc stares in shock at his bed. Levi bangs on MC's door.

●"Come out her Mammon I know you're in there." Mc walks to the door and opens it slightly.

●"OmgI'mSoSorry" Mc closes the door and sighs.

●"Why was he scared of ya-" Mammon was too busy hiding to realize Mc is in just a towel. His ears felt as tho they were burning. He was trying to act cool. "Are you not scared... Mammon." Mc walked closer, teasing Mammon.

● Mammon was mesmerized by his body. He couldn't stop. Mammon's pants felt tighter and he realized his dick is practically begging to come out of his pants. He let out a soft pout as he covered his lap with something nearby.

●"Mammon what are you doing with my boxers..." He looks down at Mcs underwear laid out on his lap. He turned bright red and ran out the door.

●He took the boxers with him.

● Mammon ran to his room his cock just begging to be let out.

●Poor boy came after a few pumps but it wasn't enough for him. After he got over his nerves Mammon returned to Mc's room with his boxers. "You think I'm just gonna let ya walk around naked like that. Remember, I'm your first" Suddenly the greed took over as he kissed all over Mc's body.

Levi

● He planned a game marathon with Mc and was wondering why Mc was running behind, He decided to check up on him.

●He opened the door. Mc is in a towel. His face. BRIGHT RED.

●"I'm so sorry I'll leave you alone" He panics but Mc pulls him by the arm inside.

●He turns his head away to give Mc privacy. He's not sure what to do. No amount of predictable anime or video game could even prepare him for this. Zombie apocalypse? Done. House burns down? Yeah. Late to anime school with toast in his mouth? of course.

●"I'll be done in a second. Then I am so kicking your ass" Mc drops the towel.

●Levi couldn't help but turn his head in Mc's direction seeing the back of him. Levi is so going to masturbate to this for the rest of his life. He's a flustered mess and Mc teases him for it.

●It's not fair that Mc got one up on him. He'll try to change that.He even decided to send a picture of the mess he made to Mc.

[teddursa]

where the sick ‘n twisted go.. .ᐟ — 🦇 ( 제이크)

PREC .ᐟ S : being dirt poor in a small village means not having the privilege to study where only the elite go, only when your mom married mr.park did the doors open for you.

𝓅 arings. vampire/cultist!jake x helpless!reader

⛪️ .ᐟ 𝓌 arnings — mention of god/religion. mention of sexual acts between step!siblings. noncon.fingering.oral sex. public sex (?). dirty dirty talk. pls lmk if i should add more !

☥🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - authors note : hii! it’s hana ♡ this is my first fic & it’s based off of a dream i kept having & i was like this would be a bomb fic. i’m nervous abt sharing my writing since i mostly just read on here so pls be nice ㅠㅠ this will also be a multiple story series since IM NAWT done, my brain is full of things for this series. this is based in the salem witch trial era.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ FIC UNDER MORE ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

CHAPTER 1. JAKE SIM.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

you stepped into the school. your brown plaided skirt falling before your knees. your white button down was perfect with no wrinkles on it. the sweater you wore was new, a gift from mr.park. it had now been a month since your mother and mr.parked married making you one of the new members of the rich and powerful of salem. your black mary janes clicked softly on the tiles. the school was huge, so similar to a church.

sunghoon walked behind you, staring at your plush ass as you walked. the skirt being so tight and short on you was not something he expected. but it was the only size the school had left. he chuckled to himself as he looked at your legs, they looked so soft and delicate. rubbing against each other as you walked.

suddenly, a old lady appeared. “you must be y/n. i’m mrs.malen.” you stared with a soft smile, “yes madam. it’s so lovely to meet you” you were so soft spoken that she had to move closer to hear you. “well here’s your schedule and i’m sure sunghoon here can show you to your classes.“ as you turned to sunghoon, he had the same expression, he held out his hand as you handed him your schedule. “we have all the same classes. how annoying.” his voice was deep and cold. “follow me.”

when you walked into the classroom, there were 2 clerestory windows plastered on the wall. the desks were dark and almost looked like pews. as you sat down. you looked over at your seat mate, it was guy. he had blonde hair and the prettiest features. he was sleeping. but the way you admired him had awoken him. his eyes fluttered open, he took a glance at you, “what are you doing sitting here? are you new?” you nodded, he chuckled. “ohh , well i hope you enjoy being my seat mate bc i know i will.” your innocent voice spoke “what do you mean?”

“im jake.” “y/n” he only chuckled as the teacher finally started the lesson.

later on into the lesson, you felt the need to use the bathroom . you raised your hand and was granted permission to go, you slowly walked to the bathroom using the signs plastered to find your way into the bathroom. as you walked inside you felt like there was something following you. you turned around only to find jake. “what are you doing here? this is the girls bathroom!” you shrieked as he ran towards you. pushing you into one of the stalls. closing the door behind him. “god i knew as soon as i opened my eyes, i just had to get a taste of you.” you struggled against him as he ran his hands all over your body. “stop! t-this isn’t right, god would punish us both… s-stop jake!” he only chuckled, your devotion only made him harder. “god bless your innocent soul” he said as his hand snaked their way under your tight skirt.

his fingers rubbing your tight virgin pussy. you screamed for help but jake slapped you “shut the fuck up before i make this worse for you. no one’s gonna hear you baby deer.” he grabbed your face, shoving his tongue into your mouth. still rubbing your pussy from the outside of your panties. “god, i can’t wait to fuck you.” you shook your head violently, “p-please, i can’t..” he suddenly forced a finger inside. you screamed, the pain like nothing you’ve experienced before. he slapped you with all his force. “keep quiet you fucking slut. it’s like you want someone to walk in and see you get fucked like a whore” you cried as he started to finger you.

your nails digging into him as he fucked your tight pussy with his long slender fingers. “you seem so innocent, but no innocent girl would let me finger fuck them so well in the school bathroom.” you whined as the pain started to turn into pleasure. “fuck your dripping wet…” the squelching sound of your pussy sounded like a dream to jake. forcing him to only go faster. “f-fuck jake” you moaned out, his fingers fucking your pussy harder.

“ i knew you were a good little girl. come on let me make you feel good.” you whine and you lay your head on his shoulder. you arms gripping him so you won’t fall onto the cold tile floor. he kissed you on the neck as he pulled his hands away from your pussy. you whined. “no worries my baby deer i just want to feel your tight mouth.” suddenly he pushed you on the ground, making you fall into a corner, your hand gripping onto the toilet as he pulled out his cock, fucking his hand. you looked in shock as precum fell onto your skirt.

“fuck you look so beautiful. i can’t wait to fuck your innocent face.” he chuckled as you made a confused expression, pushing his cock into your mouth. “god bless this tight mouth.” your eyes teared up as he forced himself inside your mouth. “fucking whore, take it, take my cock...just like you were made for..." your small hands grabbing onto the toilet, your head banging against the tile wall. you looked up at jake. you tried to beg him to stop but his huge cock filling your mouth stopped you.

he groaned. “t-this is why no girls sit next to me, they all know what i do to innocent girls like you….i fuck them until their brain dead.” your eyes widened as you tried to push him off. your tiny hands grabbing onto his thighs in an attempt to push him off. he only laughed as his huge hands grabbed onto your hair pushing your nose closer to his v-line.

the choking sounds were becoming to much for jake as he felt himself get closer to his high. “g-god i don’t know how sunghoon hasn’t fucked you yet. w-when he told me about you, i thought his sick self would’ve been fucking you already—“ suddenly he stopped talking and he sped up. his cock hitting the back of your throat. your choking sounds were becoming more intense, as the spit started to flow down onto your school uniform. your tiny hands grabbing onto his thighs harder and harder as he finally reached his high cumming into your mouth with no shame.

his hand let go of your head, you started to choke on the cum. Jake leaned forward and took your chin in between 2 of his fingers. “swallow.” he whispered. you shook your head desperately. “i said swallow slut.” he said coldly as he forcefully shut your mouth. you swallowed his salty cum, how will god ever forgive you for the way you had sinned. jake’s cold voice talked again. “show me baby” you opened your mouth, hanging your tongue out. he chuckled. “good deer.” he got up slowly. taking in the way you looked.

you were sitting down on to the ground, in between the wall and the toilet. your hands grabbing onto the toilet. spit all over your face as your delicate features were covered by your runny makeup and spit. Jake buttoned up his pants, and fixed his shirt. you just sat there on the floor, crying suddenly what had happened hit you. “oh baby deer, don’t cry. you’ll see more of me later i promise… i still haven’t even fucked your tight virgin pussy..” he chuckled as he walked out of the stall.

leaving you crying on the floor, you heard the girls bathroom door open and shut. what a beautiful way of starting your first day of your dream school. how will god ever forgive you for the way you have sinned.

☥🦇 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪ - authors finishing note : i hope you guys enjoyed! i’m sorry for the bad grammar or writing. like i said it’s my first fic so pls be nice but feedback is always appreciated ♡

[certifiedposeidonhater]

PERCY JACKSON HEADCANONS!! (i have a very, very, VERY long series of these on my tiktok so i’ve decided im gonna start posting them here!)

this is gonna be the first part! i’m gonna do like 20-25 each part. (there’s a lot…) just a reminder to pretty please be respectful and kind. i love hearing different opinions and explaining why i think the things that i do or my reasoning behind these, but if you are rude or mean, im just gonna shut you down. if you want to RESPECTFULLY discuss our different opinions, i would LOVE to!! 💙

alrighty, here goes (why am i lowkey nervous?):

1. So, you know how aphrodite children know French bc it’s like the language of love? Percy knows a lot of island/oceanic languages that are native to island cultures (e.g. Māori, Tahitian, Samoan, etc.) because…poseidon.

2. Percy bottles up all of his emotions until he eventually has a mental breakdown where he lays in bed for a few days and completely isolates himself from all his friends and family. He kinda just pops back up when he’s done and acts like nothing happened. None of his friends or family really have the heart to bring it up, and if they do, he’ll just dismiss it and shut down.

3. He physically cannot eat when someone is upset at him or he’s upset at somebody else (he’s usually upset at himself.)

4. Percy and the aphrodite cabin were kinda friends. Especially him and Drew and him and Silena. I don’t know why but it just makes sense. They have weekly gossip sessions. The aphrodite cabin were the only campers (well mostly Silena but still) who didn’t avoid or ignore Percy once he got claimed. Silena and Beckendorf took him in and became almost parental figures.

5. Percy once got in an argument with his dad so he drove himself to a nearby church and got himself baptized at a local church to spite his dad (which i feel like kinda cancels out the whole point of the baptism but whatever.) His mom also got him baptized when he was a baby because she was annoyed at poseidon and also bc she grew up in a kinda religious household. (‘Cause i’m pretty sure that Sally was from Texas and so it fits the region.)

6. He’s not white. He’s actually Hispanic/Portuguese. It fits the majority of the ethnicity census in the area where he grew up so it’s very likely. Plus (other than Walker) i lowkey cannot imagine Percy as white.

7. He has nightmares from seeing himself from another point of view and seeing how scary he is. (He’s scared of himself. (He sees himself as Luke.))

8. Gods and goddesses used to visit Percy as a kid and just kinda chat him up and hang around him a bit. He would literally just randomly be sitting on the subway and suddenly Iris pops up and starts talking to him, and Percy being the 8 yo kid he is, he starts talking back and suddenly it’s a full-blown conversation.

9. He has a special spot that he used to go to with Beckendorf. They found it while they were searching for something for one of Beckendorfs projects. It’s like a little pond somewhere in the forest, super remote. Percy still goes there whenever he’s at camp and it reminds him of Beckendorf.

10. He has the ability to see the past through water. Like how water can collect energy? Like that science thingy where energy can kinda collect in water? Well, Percy can use his powers to kind of bring the past to life based on what has happened near the water. (e.g. he could use the water in the creek to create like a mist version of the things that happened there. Like his claiming. think Frozen II)

11. When he was a kid, g*be used to kick Percy out on the streets. He would be supposed to be taking care of Percy when Sally was at work and he would just make Percy go outside for hours at a time no matter what the weather was. Even if it was a blizzard and Percy didn’t have a jacket, Percy was outside.

12. g*be has broken Percy’s arm (multiple times) and he told everyone it was from falling down the stairs of his apartment complex. It never healed right either so his right arm is a little funky.

13. He’s left handed.

14. Percy has tried to off himself. But that’s also canon so like-

15. Percy dissociates a lot. It happened more when he was a kid but it started up again after the first war. He will dissociate for hours and no one knows how to get him out of it. It stresses Annabeth out SO MUCH.

16. He developed an eating disorder where he hated himself so much that whenever he ate, his mind would hyperfixate and overthink about that hatred and how much of a terrible person he was to the point he would throw up everytime he ate. Restricting what he eats also helps him feel in control of his life, and he gets so little control that the feeling of starving himself became almost euphoric.

17. He HATES pigeons and squirrels (it’s irrational.)

18. He’s fluent in Spanish and Portuguese. and some Italian bc of g*be and bc he grew up around the Italian mafia.

19. He knows A LOT of random facts about random local places without ever being there. It rlly impressed Annabeth when she started talking abt some cool architectural thing and Percy was js like “oh yeah, i know all about that!” he’s never been to half of them, but he knows about it.

20. His New York accent was *super* noticeable when he was a kid and he got bullied for it, so he started hiding it and does it subconsciously even though he knows his friends wouldn’t make fun of him. It still comes out when he’s tired, stressed, or emotional.

21. He code switches.

22. Percy hates Boston and New Jersey

23. He isn’t patriotic at all but the SECOND someone starts talking bad abt nyc he is ON IT. Same with if a European (mainly a British person) says something bad about America, he starts becoming Alexander Hamilton. He suddenly LOVES his country and that country’s culture.

Hope yall enjoy! I’m just posting old ones from tiktok so i have them backed up on somewhere and to get the people on tumblr caught up and there will be more soon 🤗🤗 If yall have any questions or anything, PLEASE ask me! I love talking to people about this stuff!

[illyrianslut]

In His Arms - Azriel x Reader

Summary:

Isla went to Velaris with Rhys after UTM, but quite frequently has nightmares about what was done to her. Azriel is always there to aide when he can.

Warnings: (These will be chapter by chapter) nightmares, mention of past abuse

Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: (I totally changed this from an OG character to Y/N) This is part 1/?. This is my first ACOTAR fanfic! I've been writing fanfic for 13 years (fuck im old), so I'm super excited to finally be posting in the ACOTAR fandom<3 Ao3 Link

Masterlist | Ao3

 “Please don’t make me do this.” I beg, glancing between Amarantha and Rhysand. The fear forming in my stomach like a brick. “I’ll do anything else, please My Queen, I beg of you.” Amarantha’s grin only grows wider at my plea. Rhysand’s face is stone cold, hatred burns through me as I realize what’s about to happen.

“Search her, now.” Amarantha hisses at Rhysand. For the briefest of seconds pity seems to cross his face, but it’s gone in a second when I feel him begin digging through my thoughts.

​Memories of the fae I’d been sneaking out fill my mind, their faces and names being run through so quickly I can barely process it myself. Pretend this hurts. A thought that feels my own, but somehow belonging to someone else fills my mind. But I trust the thought, and bring myself to my knees letting out a pained scream.

Part of my acting feels real, the invasion of my privacy and the fear of what Amarantha will do to me once she finds out evokes a very real reaction from me. She is going to kill me.

“Well Rhysand?” She beckons, a bored almost annoyed tone surrounding her question. “Have I found my traitor?” The itch in my mind ceases, and something tells me now it is time to end my performance.

Rhysand watches me for a moment, almost like he is deciding something. But then he shakes his head “No.”

Amarantha’s head snaps from me to him. “What do you mean no?” She hisses “I’ve been informed that she” Another sharp glance in my direction “has been helping other slaves to escape.” I hate that word.

“You’ve been informed wrong, she has no knowledge on the escaped slaves.” Rhysand tells her calmly, his neutral expression still on me. “You should bring the liars in at once to be questioned.” Rhysand sounds bored, almost annoyed that he’d even been brought here. I stand up slowly, looking between Rhysand and Amarantha trying to figure out what was going on. Is he lying for me? Why would he do that?

A hum from Amarantha, I glance up at her on her dais realizing that I may get out of this situation alive. Maybe not unharmed, but at least alive. Thanks to Rhysand, Amarantha’s whore. His gaze snapped to me, a look of annoyance. I just saved your life, do you think it’s wise to be using those words right now? Rhysand’s voice floods my mind and I have to hold back the fear shooting through me, that he had heard me.

“I suppose you’re right. Twenty lashings for the girl so she knows to keep her mouth shut about the escapees. And make sure they leave a mark so everyone knows.” Amarantha sounds proud of herself at the idea.

“No!” I shriek, whipping my head to the Attor who is stalking towrds me, an evil grin spread across his disgusting face. “Please, don’t do this My Queen! I will keep quiet, please!” I beg just as the Attor grabs my arm to hold my in place for my punishment.

My shirt is ripped off by the Attor, and a leather whip appears in his hand. “I’ve been waiting to see you break.” He whispers in my ear.

I shoot up in bed, a scream escaping my lips at the memory of my first real interaction with Rhysand. I can still feel the burn of the twenty strikes inflicted on my back. “It’s over.” I remind myself, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

A hurried knock comes from my door, Azriel surely as we are the only two currently residing in the townhouse. “Sorry Az, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry about me.” I call, scolding myself for waking him.

“May I come in?” He asks, sounding distressed from the other side of the door.

“Yeah come on in.” My chest is still heaving slightly from the adrenaline, but I know he wont rest until he knows I’m really okay.

He opens the door and I take in his disheveled hair, worried expression and then much to my personal satisfaction, his shirtless body. He may be one of my best friends, but I would be blind to not notice how beautiful this man is. “Hi.” He says gently, looking me over as if assessing for physical injuries.

“Hi.” I smile up at him as he walks closer to my bed.

“May I sit?” He gestures to my bed, and I scoot over leaving a space for him to sit beside me. “Did you have a bad dream?”

I give him a nod and sigh, getting ready to spill my guts. “It was when I first met Rhys.” My voice shakes, despite how hard I’m trying to pull myself together. I think of the twenty raised marks staining my back and feel the tears well in my eyes. “Sorry, I know it’s dumb to cry over it still.” I insist, wiping at the tears just as they begin to spill out.

His expression shifts at my admission. Rhys and I had made a promise to each other when we got out that we wouldn’t talk about what we went through with the others. But there were times when it felt impossible to not talk about those things. “I know you wont tell me, but I am here for you. If you ever need to talk about what you went through. I know Rhysand made you promi-”

“No.” I stop him, it wasn’t Rhys’s idea to promise anything. It had been mine, but he seemed a lot better at keeping his secrets in than I ever had been. “Rhys didn’t make me. It was my idea, Az. It’s just, sometimes I want to word vomit everything I did and went through. But I know it wouldn’t fix anything.” It was the truth, it’s the only thing holding me to that promise with Rhys.

Of course he had shared a lot, probably everything if I’m honest, with Feyre. But that’s different, she’s his mate. Maybe one day if I ever find my mate I would feel different, but cauldron knows how rare a mating bond is.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” Azriel frowns, “I just meant-” He shakes his head, but when he looks back his eyes land on a scar wrapped around my shoulder. I freeze, and feel a twinge of panic in my stomach, but I focus on his shadow that rises slowly to the scar and caresses it gently. I can’t help but think of the first time he saw my scars, and how angry he had been.

~

The Summer Court had been just as beautiful as Feyre had described, maybe even more so. But I still can’t help the excitement of seeing Azriel for the first time in two weeks. He is by far my closest friend, much to Mor’s annoyance, and two weeks without him was hard.

Knowing that he wont be home at this hour, I decide to bathe and get the sweat from being in perpetual summer off my body. My room is just as I left it, and I can’t help but smile at the lights turning on as I walk in. Home.

I tear my shirt off, tossing it to the ground and heading for the attached bathing room. I’m attempting to pull my pants off when my door swing open, and a stunned Azriel is on the other side. In my shock I don’t know which part of my body to sheild from him, so I threw one arm over my boobs, and turn away from him.

The second I do it I hear the audible gasp from Azriel, and my body goes cold. “Get out!” I yell, tears filling my eyes, knowing Azriel has now seen the worst part of me.

“Who did this to you?” His voice sends a chill down my spine, but I still can’t bring myself to move in my frozen state.

“Azriel. Get. Out!” I hiss, feeling my body begin to shake. I’m going to be sick. I run to the bathing room, in an attempt to get away from his line of sight. Why isn’t he leaving?

“Y/N. Who did that.” I’ve never heard his tone like this, filled with such venom. His shadows enter the bathing room, and my shirt is dropped next to me. Before I can throw it on, the shadows begin roaming over my back as if exploring the raised skin.

The Attor’s wicked grin fogs my memory, and I can hear my pulse in my ears. The whipping sound fills my ears, the smell of the leather surrounds me. Rhys. And my back, I can feel the scars burning like it’s happening all over again.

Arms wrap around me, making me I feel like I’m floating. I look up to see Azriel looking down at me, fear flooding his eyes. “Y/N, talk to me. Can you hear me?” His voice sounds far away, like it’s being covered by the sound of the cracking whip, but I nod anyway.

I can feel the shaking, my whole body is shaking but I can’t stop it. “Y/N what can I do? I’m so sorry.” I’m set down onto something soft, but I instantly miss the warmth his body had been providing. My body feels void of warmth right now, ice cold. It doesn’t help the shaking.

Everything is going to change now.

“I need R-Rhys.” I hear a broken voice say. Was that me?

Hurt flashes through his eyes for the quickest of seconds but the next thing I remember is Rhys and Feyre being there. Azriel is gone. “Y/N. You need to breathe.” I hear a familiar voice instruct. I look around, attempting to figure out who, but they’re both just looking at me expectantly. “Can you hear me?” Is the voice above me?

I look up and realize I am wrapped tightly around Azriel’s waist. I nod, I can hear him. “Breathe. You aren’t breathing.” I pity the sadness haunting his beautiful face, am I causing that?

“What happened exactly?” I hear Feyre’s voice, but she sounds so far away. I turn to look where she had been and she’s still there. Why is everyone so far away?

“I-I didn’t meant to. I didn’t know she was home. I came in and she was-” Azriel pauses when I turn my attention to him. No. He can’t tell her. Nobody can know. “Changing.” He finishes.

“Oh.” Rhys tone changes. I glance at him, pleading silently that he wont make me, make us, relive that moment again. I begin shaking my head quickly, hoping he will understand my plea. “I understand, Az I think I can handle this.”

Azriel’s body stiffens in my arms “I’m not leaving her.” Suddenly the harsh tone from earlier is back, and I feel an arm tighten around my shoulders. Az? I turn my head to look at the hand and see his scarred hand rubbing gently. “Don’t you dare ask me to leave her while she’s like this.” Rhys looks to Feyre, clearly having a silent conversation.

I only focus on Az’s hand, willing the comfort of it to bring me back to the present fully.

“Azriel, will you come with me? I think this may be one of the times Rhys and Y/N need just each other.” Feyre looks at Azriel, pity written all over her face.

Just as Azriel is about to say no, Rhys looks to him with the face of the High Lord of the Night Court. “Azriel. You’ve done enough here, now go.” Just like that, the hand that had been bringing me comfort is gone, and I am being unwrapped from him. Then I watch him walk out of the room with Feyre, looking back at me like I’m broken.

I curl into a ball on the bed, soaking in the warmth from where he had been. I didn't want him to leave. I wanted him here. Buy why? “Was it your back he saw?” Rhys asks, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

~

Two years had passed and we had never spoken of what happened that day again. He still doesn’t know who caused those scars. I’m sure he has made his assumptions, but we both knew I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Assuming I ever would be.

“I just meant that you can talk to me if you ever want to, is all” He finishes his sentence, glancing back at the visible scar.

I reach to the end of the bed and grab the throw blanket there, wrapping it around my back to hide the scars that show with this damn top. The shadow that had been settling over the scar drifted back to him, hovering at his ear for a moment before dropping away.

“Are they giving up all my secrets?” I try to laugh, but truth be told there’s a part of me that is worried they’ll somehow know just from touching it who caused those marks.

“They enjoy you too much to tell me your secrets.” I can feel the truth behind his words, his soft smile is reassuring. “As much as I want to know Y/N you have to know I would never invade your privacy like that.” He almost sounds as though he is begging me to agree with him.

“I know you wouldn’t.” I admit, “I wasn’t so sure about these ones.” I giggle when the shadows reach out, and hover around my hair- their preferred location to situate on me.

I can feel the oncoming panic attack begin to subside in his presence. “Was it a dream of what happened,” He pauses for a moment “Under the Mountain?”

I chance looking him in the eye, his gaze is already fixed on my face and I can’t help but blush at the intensity. “Yes.” I admit, looking away.

“Will you tell me about it?” I know he doesn’t mean to pressure me, that it’s not his intention. But the idea of actually telling someone about what I went through down there? It sends a shiver down my spine.

“I want to, Az. I just can’t.” I finally say after a few heartbeats of silence.

“Will you ever?” The question catches me off guard, he sounded so desperate, almost like he was pleading with me to trust him with the most private part of my life.

“I don’t know, I’ve just always told myself that I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone. I mean maybe if I ever mated someone, but it’s a lot, Az. If I told you, you would never see me the same.” I feel bad avoiding the no I want to say, but I also don’t know if I would mean it. There might come a day that I trust myself enough to open up, but I can’t chance him hating me. Not yet.

“Y/N, mated couples are rare, and you know it. What’s your plan keep it to yourself for the rest of your life?” I play with a tendril of shadow that’s hovering around my fingers. When I look up to meet his gaze again I almost break. I know he wants to help me with what I went through, but I’m just not ready.

“I’m not ready Az, but if I ever am I promise it’ll be you I come to.” The corner of his mouth rises slightly.

“That’s all I can ask for, I suppose. Are you going back to bed?” The question catches me off guard, but I shake my head.

“I can’t ever fall back asleep after I’ve had a nightmare. I’ll probably be up for the day.” I shrug at the inconvenience of it. It’s become a semi regular occurrence, usually a couple times a month.

“It’s hardly past midnight, are you sure? Why don’t you lay down? I’ll stay in here with you.” I cock my head at his suggestion, but it may not be the worst idea. “I’ll sit over there, I lost a bet with Nesta the other day anyway. I have to read one of her books.” He chuckles, nodding his head to the chair in the corner of my room.

“No Az, uh” I only give the thought a moment before it’s out of my lips. “just lay in bed with me. You being here probably will help, but there is no sense in chancing both of us not sleeping tonight.” What did I just say? My eyes widen at the offer I’d just extended. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that I guess.” I rub the back of my neck.

He gives me my favorite Azriel smile, his goofy grin that meets his eyes. “Deal. Lay down.” He nods behind me.

I take the blanket off my shoulders, avoiding his gaze as I do so, and lay down facing him. “Your turn, Spymaster.” I tease, knowing he hates when I call him that. But he obliges, laying down draping his wings behind him.

Without either of us saying a word, the lamp that had turned on when he entered the room goes out. The moonlight filtering through the window gives me a clear view of him.

I can’t see them, but I feel his shadows hovering over the scarred shoulder that shown with my tank top. “You do know I will ruin whoever did that to you, don’t you?” He whispers, his fingers reach out and gently brush over the scarred skin.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

[ravenbloodshot]

Pick a Card- Your True Personality

1

2-3

4

5

Instructions: Take a deep breath, and get rid of all thoughts. Then choose a number or decide by looking at the photo, I don't recommend choosing a pile based off your liking for the celeb in the photos, but do as your heart desires. Let's hope your heart steers you to the right pile

Pile 1:

This most definitely is the pile that attracts a lot of PAC veterans (aka ppl who follow a lot of PAC readers). I'm getting the vibe that you may seek a lot of validation from not only people in your life but from PAC's as well, you can get really offended by negative traits that come up in these types of readings and also likely hate all forms of criticism. You are the type to romanticize life and have an inflated ego, thinking of yourself as on a higher pedestal than others. You guys are above average in the looks department and tend to get what you want using your looks/charm. Your not going to have much trouble attracting a romantic partner, but you will have problems making them stay. You can become quite violent and hysterical when you don't get your way and that can turn your partners off. It's as if ppl will find you attractive but once they get to know you, think your batshit crazy and wish to get going asap. I'm definitely getting the vibe that you act high and mighty and like your the queen/king bee out of deep insecurities. Like a person that gets told their pretty/handsome so they go along with that but lowkey live life not 100% sure that's the case. Not calling you a bully but I do see some case of that, if your not a bully could be that you were a victim of bullying or bullied others in the past. Either way you have some aggressive, bullying ways about you.

You may not hold a healthy view of love, believing that it's your partners duty to love and care for you but you don't have to particularly do anything for them. It's the energy of a person who's married to someone completely unconditionally in love with them, while they're just there for the money/gifts. I do think you take good care of yourself (going to the gym, nails done, hair done, skin care on point, closet full of clothes your size and also smaller sizes that your working out to eventually fit into etc...). Your likely single and not happy about it, although you'll never truly admit it to yourself and neither would you to your friends.

This is the pile that has dealt with a lot of heartbreak and may have turned to a selfish but self conscious attitude to cope with it.

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Pile 2:

Ooooo, very passionate and powerful. Im seeing a duality with the feminine and masculine energy (remind me of Ryujin). You guys may be my favorite, I just get this warm tingly feeling and this random burst of energy (If I could meet with you irl, ik I would love you 💕❤ )

You are very elegant and sophisticated, giving rich girl vibes and if not rich you strive to be (and not in the way almost all ppl strive to be rich but I actually feel like you have set plans in place for yourself, your not fucking around when it comes to you getting what you want). I'm getting this real sense of knowing who you are and what you want so your quite easy to understand, you may speak bluntly and get to the point. The femininity I mentioned before shows itself in how you care for others, you protect your loved ones and you won't hesitate to stand up for those weaker than you or just in a worse off position. It's like yeah you know your Queen bee but you don't think your above others in and of itself , you just know your above certain ideas/actions of others (I mentioned this queen bee energy for pile 1, but they seemed more 'fake it till you make it' types while you seem more relaxed and confident in your own crown and still willing to fix other's crowns). Now for the masculine energy. I keep hearing the saying "I rule with a iron fist", so you guys may be quite stubborn and set in your ways. I'm also seeing a bit of a temper, you guys give such Taurus vibes, but it takes a while for it to really show its head. I don't think you blow up for every little thing but once your temper ignites, there's no putting out the flames until the fire runs its course (I'm seeing Canadian fires, how terrible and drawn out they were, it's the same as your temper).You do hold this view of "I deserve.....", which can help you to have the confidence to go after who/what you want but when your entitlement is extreme/irrational, you can come off as just a pushy asshole.

You definitely have this healing vibe to you along with this innocent love of animals, plushies, kids and all things cute and cuddly. You may talk to your pets (if you don't own a pet, you should, they will bring you a deep sense of peace/happiness). You love to feel like you've fixed people and things, you can become obsessed with helping ppl get out of their troubles and try to tend to their mental/physical health. One thing I will say is I think your the type to love the chase in relationships (you may become obsessed with being with a person who doesn't want you).

Last thing is , you can be quite the chaos bringer. I'm seeing some type of trolling on social media, if not trolling, you could just be quite aggressive with how you write on social media. I'm seeing a lot of hidden actions and secret accounts 😏

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Pile 3:

This pile has the energy of air signs. Your the type to overanalyze and over think everything. Even when it comes to things that you say, you may think about your words quite carefully before you say them. You may be an empath or bc you analyze ppl so intensely, you can pick up on others emotions/intentions and change the way you speak to fit others state of being (for an example: if a friend was in a depressive state and quite down and out, you would know better than to try to joke around, you would communicate with more kindness in your tone and try to be understanding). You can be quite humble and the humanitarian, wishing to do good for others/society (you have the energy of a therapist).

Your sarcastic and witty, quick with the comebacks and yk how to roast ppl (lol). You could have been a victim of bullying or just grew up in a tough environment and later you learned to stick up for yourself by using your words (insulting your bullies, roasting them etc...). Your words are very powerful, likely magical. Your the type to speak things into existence, so if I were you, I would be careful with what I say (which i think you do anyways, I'm just putting this out to warn you). I do see you can be quite vengeful and you have a mindset of "I'll get them before they get me". This makes you very defensive and hostile at times. Not just that but you have some jealousy issues.

You could be dealing with a break up and your heart is not open to love rn. I do think you do try to stay in a positive mindset but you could end up hiding your pain behind your laughs and smiles. Not really the type of person to deal with your emotional pain head on. You don't like to stay in one place for too long, preferring to move/travel often.

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Pile 4:

You are very much in your power and know your worth. You could be after an unconventional career that many have told you that it could never come to be but you do as you wish not as your told. I'm seeing that your quite an attractive and sexy person, very well shaped body as well (could be quite curvaceous or your obsessed with having curves) but either way you look good. You command a lot of respect and admiration from others. A lot of ppl wish to be you, look like you, or have you. Your very talented in some kind of musical sense, your likely gifted at singing (or your voice is quite enchanting). You express yourself well, a lot of ppl feel compelled by you and the way you speak (you could live in a country where your accent is different from most). You definitely have the power and the influence to get what you want, it's giving 7 rings by Ariana Grande, " I see it, I like, I want it, I got it" 💅.

I do think you could be too attached to your looks though, it's like you believe if you gain too much weight or you don't keep/get the curves you desire, Noone would find you attractive. I also see some idolizing of others bodies as well (keep off of social media as much as possible, its okay to post yourself but try not to scroll mindlessly. That fake social media shit gets to you and messes with your spirit). You may have been on your own since a young age, having to learn how to navigate the world and its evils/goods on your own. Your very independent due to this and also street smart.

Your in a stage of your life where you may be sleeping around a lot, playing seductive games, being flirtatious and plainly dating. Your likely viewing love as a game rn, and not taking anyone too serious. (If you are wanting to be more serious with love and attract a committed partner, refrain from sex when you date, your an enticing person so your partner will drive themself crazy trying to please and be with you). Most of you in this pile are just having/looking for fun though so that only pertains to a few of you.

Unfortunately, you may be the type to get into a lot of relationships in which your partner cheats or turns out to be pyscho. This may be the reason why I don't think you believe in 'true + unconditional love' (could be parental issues, childhood trauma as well). Your romantic relationships will be the thing in this lifetime that bring you the most headaches and loneliness

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Pile 5:

I got a vibe that this pile will attract a lot of fans of Niki instead of ppl who actually feels this pile will resonate to them, so those who picked this pile.

Turn around

Inhale

Exhale

Pick a pile

Welcome.

Okay. I feel like your quite young, probably in highschool or college. You've been through a lot in your life, in which at times you've felt abandoned or ostracized. But I think those experiences have made a stronger, more resilient you. You don't play a victim in life (even if you once were) and you don't encourage others in your life to hold onto victim hood as well. You know that you have to persevere through obstacles, not stay stuck in a pity party. You do have some codependency issues, you can be too clingy and hold onto others too tight. You fear others would leave you. You fear disappointing the ones you love. (I feel like you were "the nail that stuck out and was promptly hammered in"). So I think you may have anxiety about standing out too much or appearing too different from others. You have problems with understanding and respecting others boundaries (I just keep seeing an image of you holding onto a person, with strong grip, as they struggle to push you off). Instead of making ppl feel free and relaxed around you, you could make them feel uncomfortable.

Your a very book smart person. You have a fascination with unique things that most ppl would never think about and you come up with the most creative ideas. I think your more of a hoarder of knowledge and that you feel uncomfortable sharing your ideas with others, likely afraid they would laugh at you or say the idea is worthless. I feel like your not entirely moving forward with your life, your still haunted by your past. You could even recall voices of those who've insulted you or said very discouraging things to you and that can cause you to hesitate a lot in life.

I think this the ppl in this pile may be more sensitive and I want to make sure you don't feel hated or like I'm just another person confirming your own worst thoughts. I'm here to tell you to MOVE FORWARD in your life, don't let the haters win, don't hide yourself away. Prosper like the beautiful flower you are and always will be. 🌻

[numberonetacostan]

long-time blog enjoyer, first time [of many, im sure] asker.. just wanted to say how much i loved your fics. i'm always happy to see more taco content, and i do believe your interpretation of her is my favourite!

as for an actual ask... season one taco headcanons, perhaps?

-📱🟪 [technically, my name is mepad, but i wouldn't mind getting one of your little nicknames ^_^]

Hi Mepad!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in an ask!! :] Hm, usually when people offer a name I use either that or just add a little -y to it, so I could do that? Or you could be Tablet Tabloid if you'd like ;)

Thank you so much!!! <3 I'm really happy to hear you like my fics!! :D And oh my fennings my interpretation being someone's favourite!? :O!!!! Wow wow wow!!! Oh I'm so happy to hear that I'm so flattered!! :D Thank you!!! X3c

So, Taco presumably runs out of lemons in episode 14, yeah? But in the finale, multiple lemons come out of her. My thought is that her poor tongue was starting to hurt. If you eat too many lemons/consume to much lemon juice, it hurts your tongue a whole lot (I have experienced this, it sucks)! I like to think she'd just done a bit too much lemon-spitting and needed to give it a bit of a rest so her tongue could heal and be in good shape for the finale (she does use it to grab onto OJ, after all).

I like to think Taco still hung around in the woods a lot even before she'd revealed her actual personality. I can't imagine it being too hard for her to wander off, and the solitude and cover of the forest would mean it's a great place for her to take a break from acting silly and stupid. I think she could keep up an act indefinitely if she wanted to, but since s1 Taco is so high-energy all the time it might be nice for her to have a break.

I also tend to think that, for a lot of s1, Taco was on a sugar-high. Not for the purposes of making herself more hyper like I just mentioned, but because she's more or less on Pickle's diet the entire time. He'd want to get food for his best buddy Taco, and she can't be picky since that would be out of character for someone who regularly eats metal, lemons, and rope. I usually think that, even before he was depressed, Pickle lived on, for the lack of a better term, a hardcore gamer diet. Most snacks and sugary sodas, so that ends up being what Taco eats as well, though it's the opposite of what she'd prefer. In gijinka terms, it might contribute a bit to the baby cheeks she has in s1 and that are gone by the time she shows up again for season 2. She'd probably avoid soda for, like, the rest of her existence after that, she's had more than enough thank you very much, she'll have a nice cup of tea instead.

I like to think that Taco had always seen through what Balloon was trying to do. His own act in season 1. I think of her as almost always, if not always, being able to tell when someone else is lying in addition to her own deception skills, yeah? So while he's stumbling around calling OJ and Bomb stupid and useless while he's trying to get them on his side, she is internally both laughing at his clumsy attempt and face-palming at how bad he is at it.

I think it would be funny if one time, Pickle asked her to throw something into the trash can, and she genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. She'd never admit that it wasn't part of her act, but she did not know what a 'trash can' was. It's a rubbish bin to her! Mephone specifically programmed her British, so I like to think she has to learn the american english terms that the rest of the contestants use through context and prayers.

[faramirsonofgondor]

Insane how many TV show characters have incredibly traumatic backstories or go through a shit load of trauma only for the writers to be like “yea and then they became an asshole and ruined all their relationship for no reason whatsoever.” and then they’ll be like “what do you mean that’s so out of character? no it’s not i literally wrote the character.” LIKE YES BITCH and they used to be a GOOD person and friend??? they would do anything for their friends and family??? ANYTHING. they spent eons trying to fit in and they dedicated so much time making sure their family was safe. and now you’re saying that they’re just selfish out of nowhere???

OR EVEN WORSE. when they fucking forgive their abuser for no reason or because their abuser was on drugs or addicted to alcohol. and then they get sober and magically become a better person??? what??? you mean the person who neglected their child??? the person who abused their child??? AND THE SAME CHILD GETS HATED ON FOR BEING RUDE OR EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE AND PEOPLE STILL DON’T TRUST THEM OR LIKE THEM EVEN AFTER THEY MADE CONSIDERABLE EFFORTS TO UNLEARN THE HABITS THEY DEVELOPED TO SURVIVE THE ABUSE THEY WENT THROUGH??? IM SO TIRED OF SEEING THIS HAPPEN IN SO MANY TV SHOWS. LIKE IF IT WAS ONCE OR TWICE I WOULD BE ANNOYED BUT ITS FUCKING EVERYWHERE.

Just to be clear I’m not talking about shows that have established characters perpetuating the cycle of abuse from the beginning, or progressively getting worse over time, because while I don’t necessarily like those plot lines, they can make sense when they’re done right. But I fucking hate it when it comes out of nowhere and ruins all the backstory the character had and goes against all their earlier motivations.

And while I don’t particularly like it in TV shows when a character forgives their abuser, I can understand it when the abuser actually realizes the weight of their actions, doesn’t try to excuse them, and makes efforts to do better. But almost all TV shows where the character forgives their abusers ends up with the one who was abused being labeled as a problem child or too much to handle/too difficult and the abuser gets to be forgiven without any real development or apology or effort.

Like there’s so many different examples of this happening - Jamie & James Sr. from Ted Lasso, Jess & Liz from Gilmore Girls, Buck & his parents from 9-1-1, Shawn & Henry from Psych (I said what I said), like half of the entire MCU, and multitude of other characters. Like all of the kids were emotionally neglected and abused (and sometimes physically as well) and then they “acted out” (they insulted people, were maybe a little bitchy, and acted immaturely) and then somehow them acting out and being immature or eccentric becomes a central point of their character, and other characters are often annoyed or upset with this part of the character. But then the adult who yk, abused their fucking child, is viewed sympathetically by the other characters because they “were having such a hard time” and “were really struggling” while they were abusing their child. And now that their kid is all grown up they “don’t want to have a bad relationship” and “only ever wanted what was best for them, they just didn’t know to how give it to them”. LIKE GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK MAN.

How is it the kids fault they were a bit immature or a bit of an asshole after being abused for their whole life but it’s not their abusers fault for abusing them???? like what the fuck??? Like it makes me sick to my stomach when other characters are like “wow it must have been so hard to raise them” when they literally DIDN’T raise them, they fucking abused them. Don’t even get me started on when they give the abused kid an actual parental figure and the abused kid opens up to them about how hard their life was and the parental figure does their best to support the kid only to turn around and encourage the kid to forgive their fucking abuser. Like what are these writers even on????

Anyways fuck forgiveness for the sake of forgiveness. You don’t need to forgive shit just because your abuser had a sad backstory. Womp Womp for them. Addiction doesn’t excuse abuse. Grief doesn’t excuse abuse. Divorce doesn’t excuse abuse. “Wanting what’s best for you” “being raised in a different time” or being “misguided”isn’t an excuse for abuse. Them having abusive parents isn’t an excuse for abuse. There isn’t an excuse for abuse. You don’t need to (and IMO shouldn’t) forgive an abuser just because they’re at a better or more stable point in their life than they were when they abused you or because they suddenly got FOMO and realized they’re gonna die soon and they don’t want a shitty relationship with you. And if they and other people are pressuring you to forgive them, then they clearly don’t realize the weight of their actions or how serious they were.

[awanderingtortoise]

layman's vibey analysis of the severance music

this isnt going to be crazy technical at all (charles cornell has a great yt vid that is much less... simplistic that what im saying) but that means i can share my thoughts with the least technical jargon possible! not a professional but as a nerd tier violinist, these are stuff that hit me off the top of my head. (One aspect per post, will rb to add bc this is gonna be so very long)

1. Choice of instrument

yep! even this is a big deal in the effect of the theme. the piano to me fits the composition and the show concept very well.

Instruments have different voices/feels to them.

Strings have the most organic sound, theyre very close to the human voice. The use of the bow allows for so much variety in sound color and phrasing. If it was a color picker, it would be the gradient slider. Full variety, no set limits. Mix elements at will. To use them makes music instantly more emotional or romantic.

Woodwinds/brass have a more pure sound. There are less frequencies fighting for dominance (if youll excuse that phrase lmao), making the sound less vocal and more instrumental. However, they are controlled by breath, and that is a VERY vocal element. sound can be sustained through breath, still giving it that singing quality that 'humanizes' the sound.

Given that, avoiding those and choosing the piano instead impacts the vibe instantly. Piano is a percussion instrument. It is pressed/hit to create sound, and this is arguably the furthest from the sound of a human voice. Going back to the color picker metaphor, if strings is the gradient slider, piano is the press-to-choose palette.

You press a button. It makes a sound. You can, within a very small range, vary that sound with the strength of your pressing action or the three pedals at your feet. But once you release the note you have zero control over the sound. No sustaining, either. Meanwhile on strings or woodwind, its like: play a note. Then Do you want to get louder within that note? you can. Softer? yes. louder THEN softer? also can! A thin, airy sound? Connect the notes in one stroke/breath, or play them separately? A strong, clearly defined beginning or a gentle, un-accented start, or somewhere in between? All possible. Endless choices.

So piano-- forgive me pianists; is pretty limited in phrasing. This is why it is considered easy to play at the start (press buttons. done.) and difficult to master (can press buttons now. how to make button combos express human feelings?). Now my point here is not to parallel the act of playing piano with MDR sorting (buttons+emotions= :0). Wait thats kinda cool tbh but i digress.

What I want to say is out of all standard instruments, piano creates the most inorganic feel, and emotional distance. Its not distant all the time, of course, not even most of the time. Weve all cried to Chopin in our bedrooms. But out of all classical instruments, the Button Machine is best suited to creating the simple, sterile, hypnotic quality that severance evokes.

It rings close to all these modern, unnatural sounds we hear daily, the ding of an elevator, the beep! of a scanner, the error sound on a computer. A cello might evoke an emotive tenor, a flute; the song of birds, a horn; the historic majesty of a royal announcement. A full orchestra, typical of film music, is even more capable of evoking grand, or rich, or straight-to-the-soul sound. But this isn't Star Wars. None of these are the sounds the show wants to create. We need corporate machine. We need routine. We need distant, and simple. We need severed. So. Piano! Already, without even considering the notes, the instrument is already creating an atmosphere that echoes the inhuman office world we encounter while watching.

PS!

What is VERY cool to note as well, is that while the theme and the music in the show's early episodes is almost all piano, the more we learn/the more Lumon's lies start to unravel, the more instruments are introduced. But the instrument use is still very in character for the show. For the dramatic moments, we do not immediately get a giant thick orchestra to build the drama, we get MIDI stuff! We get computer generated slides and sounds! Given the show's context, that hits even harder than a big romantic orchestral scoring.

And for the quieter high-tension moments, strings start to get used very sparsely, mostly just in high-pitched tremolo, like an eerie dissonant background whine. Just to make things a bit off, a little disorienting, a little bit wrong. So high and thin it might almost be a machine-like pure tone in itself. How absolutely on brand of them.