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dearmisshoney · 1 month ago

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fool me once, fuck you twice

synopsis. you scam your dealer again by paying with fake bills. but theodore nott is not as stupid as you think, and not as harmless as you think. let’s just say... nott has connections and can teach you a lesson you will never forget.

pairing. dealer! theodore nott x reader x corrupt! cop! mattheo riddle

content/mdni. DUB-CON. mentions of NON-CON. fem!reader, dealer!theo, corrupt!cop!mattheo, cocky!mattheo, cocky!theo, aggressive!mattheo, condescending!theo, (kind of) slutty!reader, PUBLIC SEX. car sex (on the hood of the police car), THREESOME, doggy-style, deep throat/face-fucking, slight tit play, dry-humping, slight clit stimulation, spanking, rough play, power play, hair-pulling, handcuffs, slight sir kink (mattheo), teasing, praise, degradation, dirty talk, name-calling (good girl, baby, sweetheart, ma'am, but also whore, slut, fucktoy and fuckhole), objectification, very messy, (inaccurate aka idk about drugs) drug usage. raw sèx, FILTH

word count. 4.8k

a/n. OMG HONEY NO SUB/WHINY MEN? are you okay? yes, i am :)) this fic is for the third week of @acourtofchaos ’s event. let me know what you think about new approach and this new (?) au for matty! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

bright headlights flash in the rearview mirror of theodore’s car as another one slowly pull into the parking lot right behind him. his hand, latched around the mirror, slightly adjusts it to better see the plate number.

it is your car.

you, a somewhat recent customer he accepted after one of his best clients begged him to hook you up with the good stuff, have been biting more than you can chew.

not only were you dressing up like a slut every time you met with him — perky tits poking through the tight material of your tops, pussy peeking from underneath your micro-skirts — but you also half-assed your payment by sneaking in counterfeit bills.

theo always brushed to the side your skimpy outfits, not giving you any sort of discount for your promiscuous acts.

but he cannot excuse your usage of fake money.

no one cheats theodore nott.

“theo, hii!”

your exaggeratedly lively greeting hits his ears the moment he steps outside his car.

that sweet tonality of yours always made him roll his eyes back in annoyance, but right now it even angered him. your candy-like tone was definitely infused with venom and a dash of pride from the fact that you managed to trick the devilish dealer.

definitely, but not really. he would have reprimed you by now, but, alas, he had no evidence you did your almost-fake payment on purpose.

theodore is not an unreasonable man — he gives you the benefit of the doubt, hoping that maybe you didn’t know they were fake bills.

“the usual, right?” he muttered underneath his breath, more of a rhetorical question, clasping the edge of his trunk and lifting the lid to search for your order.

“awe, theo, why so gloomy tonight?”

you leaned against the opened trunk, arching your back into the created shape and pushing out your tits more. your tube top was barely sticking to your skin, gripping to your chest for dear life so as to not flash your dealer.

but if it happens, it happens — maybe that way theodore would finally give you a discount.

“shit happened.”

it’s all he says as he closes back his trunk abruptly, without a warning. (un)fortunately, you reacted fast and your limbs were not trapped in the process. your expression did faltered for a second, your eyes popping out of your sockets and your mouth getting ready to spill curses, yet you composed yourself in time to receive the little transparent drug bag from theo.

“'m sorry, boo! can i help somehow?”

you were really adamant in seducing him, huh? leaning closer to theo, showing the peaks of your breasts to him, and seductively swaying your hips; you were serving your body on a silver platter as if it were nothing to you.

what a fucking slut.

“you having the cash to pay for this will do.”

he wasn’t going to feed into your depraved fantasies. so, shaking the bag with the greenish goods, he kindly demanded the payment from you. this evening you seem to be missing your purse, so theo’s reply was not out of line at all.

“of course, theo! you know i never disappoint.”

dipping your hand between your boobs and stretching out the tight material of your top, you pull out a fat stack of money, tied together by a red band. you shamelessly pushed the bills towards theo, flashing him a sultry grin as you intentionally let the top smack against your skin and make your chest jiggle.

what a fucking slut.

“i know.”

he groaned at the sight of your money, taken by surprise by your hiding spot. you've never had such a performance before, so to suddenly see bills emerging from between your tits… that made blood rush to his cock.

his unusual reaction was registered by you and your smile only grew bigger. theo was surely not discounting you this time, but now that you visibly made him falter… you will do your best to get that discount next time.

“pleasure doing business with you.”

you cheekily say to him as you slap the stack of money in his hand and impatiently snatch the bag from the other one. swinging the little packet in front of your hungry eyes, you admire the content for a bit before putting it away.

again, between your boobs.

what a fucking slut.

“see ya'.” it's all you say as you step away from theodore, spinning towards your car to leave the place.

“yeah, yeah.”

theodore only mumbled back at your, gripping the stash of money in his hand tightly. he carefully watches you as you start the engine, your headlights immediately hitting his standing figure as you slowly turn around and exit the parking lot.

he was planning on checking the money while you were still here, but your little stunt made him forget all about his plan, leaving him stranded alone with, most likely, suspicious bills.

“she better just be dumb.”

that was his wish: he really wanted you to just have unknowingly given fake bills to him. to just unknowingly cheat him and profit off of his business.

yet as he carefully checks each and every bill from the stack with a uv light, theodore discovered your true nature — you intentionally did it.

you dared fake your payment twice in a row, this time only using counterfeit money.

what a fucking devious slut.

“oh, she will pay for this! no one messes with me and leaves unharmed.”

he was chuckling under his breath as he gripped the money tightly, the discarded portable uv light bringing out the markings on every bill and the rage in theodore’s eyes.

they shimmer a treacherous blue, so stormy and so revengeful.

“that slut will regret it.”

with a mischievous grin on his lips, he drops the bills all over the car seat. then he reaches for his phone on the center console and, fastly typing a well-memorized phone number, he dials someone surely capable of bringing him justice.

“need your help with something.”

•••

“theodore the devil nott my ass, haha!”

stepping on the gas pedal hard as soon as you joined the main road, you upped the volume of your music in celebration. you used fake bills to fully pay for your drugs and that stupid dealer didn’t even realize.

you escape unscattered yet again.

“such a fucking loser, damn!”

and you continued your insulting monologue, replaying in your head how easy it was for you to take the package and dip. how his eyes were focused on your tits, then your money stack.

how he literally moaned when you dropped the drugs in your top at the very end.

“pussy boy for real.”

you've heard details from your friend about his sex life, but it all seems to be just a rumor. there was no way theodore nott, with his prudish reaction, fucks until daylight and makes his partners see stars.

he is an attractive bastard, yes, but he definitely hasn’t seen a pussy in his life.

“that makes it easier for me, damn.”

you were smiling like crazy when you realized your seduction game just became easier to implement. he’s been so unresponsive all this time because he was a prude. and maybe you were too bold.

“a sheer top will do for next time.”

you were already planning your future outfit, so excited to fuck up theo’s resolve to stay away from your enticing tendencies, but the red and blue lights of a police car glimmering in your rearview mirror brought you back to reality.

“no fucking way.”

all your enthusiasm dropped as you realized the police car was targeting you, signaling for you to stop on the side of the road.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.”

why were cops patrolling this route? and why were they out at this hour? you were indeed over the speed limit, so their reaction was understandable. but if they were to also body search you and find the drugs… you’re done for.

let’s hope the officer was a he. a young thirsty he who will give in to your dirty attics and let you go.

so, obeying his signals, the tires of your car halt with a loud screech. your hands fumbled to lower the volume of your music, and that’s when you registered the strong pounding of your heart.

you were anxious.

you dipped your hand in between your boobs, searching for your drug bag in hopes of removing it, yet you fastly return your hand back on the steering wheel when you saw the red and blue lights swirling so close to your car and a dark silhouette approaching the window.

a sudden sharp knock on your window made your entire body twitch in your seat, legs shaking away from the pedals on the floor and rooting themselves as close to the edge of the seat as possible. without waiting for a second knock, you lowered the window with a gulp.

and there he was.

uniform pressed. badge gleaming under the red-blue lights. cop hat pulled over messy curls, yet barely hiding his brown eyes.

“license and registration, ma'am.” he drawls, voice gravel-like, a knowing smile plastered across his lips.

oh he was hot hot.

“o–of course, officer…?”

“officer riddle, ma'am.”

“give me one second, officer riddle.”

you could definitely try wiggle your way out of this one. officer riddle looked young and, judging by his constitution, he was definitely a desirable yet cocky man.

stroke his ego — and maybe his cock — and you’re definitely good.

so you scramble, leaning so far down towards the drawer in front of the passenger seat that your ass was on full display for officer riddle. opening up the drawer, you took longer than needed to find the necessary documents.

all that just to entice the cop.

you had no clue if your trick was working, but you knew for sure the officer got a good glimpse of your bubble butt and your naked cunt. your micro-skirt may not have come in handy with your dealer, but it will definitely affect riddle.

“was i– um– speeding, officer?”

returning to your initial position and handing him the documents, you bat your eyelashes cluelessly at him and purse your lips in confusion. you would have pushed your tits at him too, but the drugs tucked between them were burning into your skin, advising you to be cautious.

mattheo riddle takes your license and glosses over it slightly, before returning his gaze back to your face.

“twenty over. but that’s not the main issue.”

and that’s when your breath hitches, the drug bag feeling heavier against your chest.

“w–what do you mean?”

he doesn’t answer. just eyes you for a moment and, with a jerk of his chin, commands you to do exactly the thing you were most afraid of:

“step outside the vehicle, ma'am.”

your lips parted, ready to protest, but you swallowed your words and obeyed. if you make a commotion right now, it will make it worse.

so, complying to his order, you got out of the car. your heels clicked against the pavement, and you stepped into the cool air.

“bend over, hands on the hood.” he says firmly. “i will conduct a search. standard procedure.”

“search? may i know why–”

“standard procedure, ma'am.” he cuts you off in a harsh tone, one that allows no further questioning. “do not make me use force, ma’am.”

you complied.

he started his search from your wrist, skimming down your arms. it was deliberate yet professional, his fingers barely ghosting over your skin. then he hovered over your hips, pausing his hands at the swell of your ass.

“you nervous?” he murmurs against your ear, his breath hot and sticky. something darker was palpable in his voice, but you couldn’t quite figure out the reason.

“ah– a little.”

“you should be.”

and that’s when his hands unprofessionally gripped at your ass over the skirt, half of his palms hitting the material of your garment, half of it — his curious fingers — hitting bare skin.

“s-sir–?”

“public nudity? that’s a serious offense, sweetheart.”

his fingers dug deeper into your flesh, leaving indents into the plush of your ass, as he spread your legs slightly to make space for his own body.

“walking around like this?” he growls against the shell of your ear as his fingers raised the hem of your skirt higher and higher. “skirt so short and fuck me– no panties?”

your cunt was now on full display, shimmering underneath the moonlight because of the glossy arousal coating your lips and thighs. and to make it worse, the rugged material of mattheo’s pants were nicely pressing against it, making you buckle your hips back into him.

your stomach flips at his words, a mixture of desire and fear. you tried to beg for mercy, but only a small whine left your throat.

“not only you’re breaking the law…” he continued ruthlessly, raising one of his hands from your ass only to let it slap back against your skin. “you’re doing it like a desperate little whore.”

“p–please, officer, i–”

another slap.

“save it for the chief.”

before you can beg again, he roughly gripped your wrists and, binding them closer behind your back, he swiftly handcuffed you. now, with your hands tied behind you, the cold and hard metal of the cuffs digging into your skin, you had no chance of escaping.

you were fucked.

“c'mon, let’s go.”

he removed himself from behind you like nothing happened, pushing back down your skirt and even yanking your body from the hood.

“what are we–”

“we’re going to the police station. you’re under arrest, sweetheart.”

and with that brief explanation, he nudged you to move towards his car. his police car, with the red-blue lights still menacingly spinning.

it was bad.

if he takes you to the police station, they will surely find the drugs. shit, shit shit, you have to stop him right now. but how? what should you do to make him change his mind?

“wait– wait! officer riddle…” you breathed out courageously, heels skidding against the pavement as you dig them in.

resisting his pushing.

but he doesn’t stop at all, hand stiff against your lower back.

“don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“i will do anything–” you blurt out. “j–just– don’t take me there, please.”

that stops him.

his hand on you falters just enough to give you hope. you could see from the corner of your eyes how his own chocolate orbs flicker down your body — unreadable themselves, yet the mere action speaks volume.

“anything?” he repeats, low and dangerous.

“y–yeah!” you nod, heart pounding right next to your drug pouch. “p–public indecency should be punished privately, d–don’t you agree?”

for a moment, there’s only the whirling of the police lights and the thudding in your chest. then, with a devilish smile, mattheo drags you closer, your body falling into his.

“you think i am that easy, sweetheart?”

fuck it, go big or go home.

“i think you want to see if i am that easy, officer.”

that was enough. you didn’t even need to push your hips back into his crotch like you were planning to.

your body was instantly guided to the hood of the police car, shoved chest first against the cold metal. your legs parted instinctively, giving officer mattheo riddle the chance to position himself between them and yank your skirt back up.

“what a fucking slut.” he mutters as he slowly thumbs at your pussy, fingers cruising against your folds and collecting your arousal. “showing me this dirty cunt to fuck.”

he continues to mutter profanities under his breath as he undoes his belt with one hand. the other tightly clutches the handcuffs on your wrists, keeping them in place at the base of your back.

“bending over like a common whore to dodge a charge.”

you moan when he grinds against you, this time sloshing the head of his hard cock between your sticky folds. his fat tip presses deliciously against your pulsing entrance, offering enough pressure to make your eyes roll back.

“gonna fuck you raw, sweetheart.” he groaned in your ear as he carefully pushed in, cock splitting your pussy open inch by inch. “you need justice deep inside you.”

“oh my god–”

mattheo's hips snap forward, shoving his cock deep inside you with a brutal thrust, knocking the wind out of your lungs. the cold of the metal hood mixes with the boiling heat between your thighs, your breath fogging up the base of the windshield in front of you.

“is this what you wanted, huh?” he sets a brutal pace from the start, disregarding your comfort for good. “is this why you’re walking with your bare pussy out?”

his belt clinks faintly with every movement, still hanging loose around his hips, evidence of how quickly he turned from arrest to sex. his free hand comes down against you ass again and again and again, spanking your buttcheeks with force.

until red imprints of his hand remained on your skin.

“fuckin' tight–” he hisses, one hand still gripping your cuffed wrists, the other planted on your ass, pressing harder against it and exposing your hungry cunt sucking him in.

“and this wet for a cop? you’re so disgusting, sweetheart.”

you only moan, body trembling from his aggressive thrusts, metal handcuffs biting into your skin as he keeps a constant pace — fast and heavy. perfect rhythm to make you feel every inch drag along your inner walls while also bullying your cervix.

“fucking your way out of jail time… you always do that, hm?” he growls, each word punctuated by the slap of his hips against yours.

he was so mean, his mouth constantly running on and degrading you with every word. but you couldn’t even retort back, you lips only able to allow drool to pool on the hood of the police car.

he was hitting the right spots with every jut of his hips, and his heavy balls were perfectly hitting your puffy clit.

“aaah– n–noo–” another sharp thrust shuts you up again.

he grabs a fistful of your hair, nails scrapping the scalp, and pulls your head back just enough to make your back arch harder. the shiny handcuffs were gleaming beautifully against your newly-found arch, and, no matter how much you tugged at them to release your hands to support your body, you could only cry loud from the harsh pressure at your roots.

“lying, stealing, flashing your fuckholes at anyone who looks twice. i think one fuck is not enough.”

his pace increased, cock driving into you with enough force to rock the entire vehicle. the lewd, wet slap of skin on skin fills the night air, and the windows fog more and more.

“what do you think, theo?”

“t– theo?”

and that’s when you see him: theodore nott, your dealer, smirking like a demon from behind the windshield of the police car. he seems to have been here from the start, as he was seated nicely in the passenger seat, carefully eyeing you and pumping something you couldn’t see yet.

“yes, whore, theo. theodore nott.”

mattheo doesn’t let up, his pace violent, hands loosening against your hair and making you drop back onto the hood. the impact made you gasp in pain and pleasure, all his restless abuse somehow making you needier for more.

“you see what happens…” theo drawls, voice thick with arousal, now booming from right next to your exhausted body. “when you try to fuck me over, baby?”

turning your face sideways, you finally see him clearly. you see the way his eyes were dark with amusement, one hand lazily stroking his hard cock as he takes in the sight of you bent over the hood of his friend’s car.

“you get fucked twice as hard.”

it was definitely a bad situation for you, yet all you could do is gush more around mattheo’s dick, sucking him in like a vice and milking him dry. all you could do was eye theo’s own cock, all hard and weeping with precum, wishing it was in your mouth.

“she’s learnin' her lesson realllll well,” he grunts, hand stricking your ass again. “ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

you whimper weakly, nodding as best you can against the hood. “y-yes, sir…”

theo only smirks, cockily examining how obedient and pliant mattheo made you. “good fucking girl,” he praises you mockingly, thumbing your bottom lip before slapping the head of his cock on it.

“now open that pretty mouth and apologize to me too.”

you part your lips willingly, tongue flicking out to taste the salty precum on his tip. then you took him deeper, eyes fluttering closed as theo inserted his cock inch by inch. his groans, low in his throat, were music to your ears, now joining together mattheo’s raspy moans and creating the finest tune.

“that’s it.” he hissed, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head up and down his shaft.

“apologize with your mouth full.” he taunts, hips twitching forward as your warm mouth almost engulfed his entire length. “gag on it. make it sloppy, baby.”

and you did, as his hands didn’t allow you another choice, pushing your head all the way down to his navel. your throat was forced open by his cock, constricting around it from the sheer size of him and making you choke strongly.

mattheo groaned at the sight, cock twitching inside you.

what a fucking slut.

“fuck, she’s so dirty.” he growls, slamming into you harder and harder. “mouth full of cock while i wreck her cunt.”

your nails scrape at the hood of the car, knees shaking, orgasm bubbling in your stomach as the two men use you without mercy — like you’re nothing more than a slutty little debt to be collected.

“you like that, baby? you like being passed around like a toy?”

your muffled moans are enough of an answer, spit and precum seeping from the corners of your mouth as theo fucks your face deeper. he too was as turned on by your depravity as mattheo, his head tipped backwards with satisfaction, hands strongly caging your head.

“i should’ve known you were this desperate.” theo mutters, his voice rougher now, eyes looking from underneath his lashes at the way your lips stretch deliciously around him.

“all that fake money, all that attitude — when all you wanted was to be used.”

suddenly pulling you off his cock, face all wet and sticky, he gripped both of your cheeks with one hand, pursing your lips close to one another in a painful lock.

“where are the drugs, slut?” theo growled into your face, remembering what started all this. “still between those naughty tits of yours?”

he might have emptied your mouth to be able to answer him, but the way he was pushing at your cheeks did not help at all. so you only nod, excessively so, hoping theo will get the message.

“good.”

it's all he says before his fingers catch the edge of your top, tugging it down until your tits spill free, bouncing slightly with the motion. the bag also drops on the hood, hitting it with a small thud.

you hoped he would grope your breasts, tweak your hard perky nipples and give you the much needed chest stimulation. sadly, he completely ignores your tits, his hand sneaking across the hood and snatching the drugs.

“you don’t deserve them, you slut!”

not only did he took them back, he also opened the package right in front of you.

your lips part in protest, but no sound comes out. theo doesn’t give you a chance to process what he was doing, pushing his hand against your head and forcing you to stay flat on the hood.

“you better stay still.”

with one final threat, he dumped the greens all over your back. then, reaching into his back pocket for papers, theodore rolls the joint right there on your skin.

like your body is just another table for him to use.

you watch his fingers work through the sheer reflection on the windshield — deft, practiced — as he forms the joint with precision in seconds. lastly, with no hesitation, he lights the joint and, placing it between his lips, takes a long drag of his own products.

“want some, mattheo?”

“you know it.”

it’s all mattheo says before taking the joint from theo, slowing down his thrust to take a long drag, only to return to his torturous pace right after.

“you’re so dumb, sweetheart.” mattheo chuckled darkly as he slapped your ass. “trying to fool theo, seriously?”

his hand rains down your skin again, his red markings stinging all over. then, gripping the meatiest parts of your ass, he spread you open again, showing off to theo how good you are taking him.

“at least you’re a phenomenal fuckhole.”

and mattheo was right. theo could clearly see the tight grip your cunt had on mattheo’s cock, how drenched you were from the two of them punishing you for your wrongdoings.

he might need to have a go at your pussy too.

“her mouth is also amazing.” theo added, returning to his previous place, next to your wet face. the joint was hanging from between his lips, the fumes reaching even down to you.

your beautiful puppy eyes immediately latched onto the drugs, begging theodore to share a drag with you too.

“awe, baby wants a taste?”

he mockingly asked you, pouting his lips in an attempt to imitate your desperate facial expressions. his fingers gripped the joint and removed it from his lips, lowering it closer to yours.

“you want a hit?”

you nodded frantically at him, face dragging across the metallic hood closer to his hand. your tongue poked out, your lips puckered, somehow hoping such gestures would attract the drugs closer to you.

what a fucking slut.

“nah–ah. your mouth has another purpose.” and so, he drags the joint away, taking a drag himself and blowing all the smoke right in your face.

“cock. your mouth was made to suck cock, baby!”

his tip was already slapping back against your lips and, without further reasoning, theodore pushed back into your mouth, resuming his face-fucking from before.

“you’re just a cock-hungry whore.”

mattheo added, rutting his hips harsher into you, pushing you further down theo’s dick and making you bury your nose into his happy trail.

theo’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as he fucked your mouth with cruelty. you gagged more around him, drool staining his pants and the police car. mattheo’s hips too slammed harder against your dripping cunt, the heat building impossibly fast.

“show us how good you are.” he growled, his voice rough against your ear. his wandering hands finally grabbed at your bare tits, kneading roughly, fingers pinching your nipple just like you wanted.

your body trembled under the assault of the two men. theo’s cock pulsed in your mouth, while mattheo’s dick twitched against your velvety walls. his grip on your hips tightened, keeping you still as his cock pounded faster, harder.

“cum on my dick. c'mon, whore.”

“be a good girl, baby! cream on his cock and i will give you a nice tasty load too.”

the joint, brought into the scene just to taunt you, fell forgotten somewhere on the pavement, their entire focus being now on you — their dirty, broken girl.

your body betrayed you, folding under the overwhelming pleasure. your pussy clenched so tight around mattheo it was almost painful, the slick heat of your walls burning hot and deep and pushing officer riddle over the edge.

“so tight and warm, shit.” mattheo cursed one last time, chasing his release with wild, sloppy thrusts.

theo too groaned low, his grip on your hair becoming increasingly painful. his own release was sudden, spilling hot and thick down your throat, making you choke one last time as he came hard.

mattheo roared above you at the same time as theo, his cock stilling deep inside as he fully painted your hungry cunt with his cum.

finally, after the restless pounding of both of your holes, you were allowed a break as the two men pulled out. you were a mess, full of cum inside and outside. the drugs on your back were mixed with sweat, but neither party seems to care about the waste.

“awe, baby, you’re tired?”

theo's venomous voice resonated in your ears like a distant echo. a small yeah was the only answer you could give, too exhausted to form full sentences.

“too bad, we’re not done.”

“i wanna feel your throat just break around me, sweetheart–”

“and i want to shoot my load deep in that dirty cunt of yours.”

“b–but–”

“do not pass out on us, baby.”

“not that that will stop us from fucking you, haha.”

©dearmisshoney 2025. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.

tags: @downbad4reid, @cafechichay, @lov3notts, @nottslove, @nottsangel

#~ 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘳 #dealer!theo #corrupt!cop!mattheo #cop!mattheo #theodore nott #theo nott #smut #theodore nott smut #theo nott smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys smut #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #festivalofaus

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brunettemarionette · 4 months ago

Text

𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 😈 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞.

💜femalemechanic!reader x sons of anarchy

🔮summary. When you first got hired at Teller-Morrow, you thought you'd just be turning wrenches and fixing bikes, but it quickly became obvious that you're the new favorite around here.

But when a customer gets too bold and puts hands on you, suddenly everyone is reminded you're untouchable when the guys step in.

🌙t.w. Sexual Harassment. Threats of Violence. Intimidation. Mild Language/Crude Remarks. Physical Confrontation

✨wc. 1.1k

This post is what inspired this little femalemechanic!reader series I'm going to do so reblogs, comments and feedback are very highly appreciated. Please feel free to send ideas my way or inbox me (even if just for anonymous feedback). Hope you all enjoy!

The sound of wrenches clinking and engines rumbling filled the air at Teller-Morrow, the familiar scent of oil and grease clinging to your skin like a second layer.

The shop had quickly become a second home to you, though you still didn't fully understand the club's inner workings. What you did understand, however, was that the Sons of Anarchy seemed to take an unusual interest in your presence.

At first, you chalked it up to them being friendly.

Jax, for instance, always seemed to be around when you needed something though, in hindsight, you never actually asked for help. "Need a hand with that, darlin'?" he'd offer, even if all you were doing was tightening a bolt. He'd lean against a nearby workbench, arms crossed, watching with an amused smirk.

It was nice that they were all so willing to help, even if it sometimes felt like you had too many supervisors at once.

Opie had a similar habit of being conveniently nearby. He never lingered as obviously as Jax, but he was always nearby. "Just grabbing this," he'd say, reaching for a tool, rag, or something completely unnecessary. He'd stick around longer than needed, watching with that unreadable expression of his.

Then there was Tig. He had no concept of personal space; that much was clear. "Damn, girl," he'd say, leaning way too close for someone who didn't need to be in your workspace. "You sure you weren't born to work on bikes? 'Cause I swear, watching you turn a wrench is the highlight of my day."

You'd roll your eyes, laughing it off. Tig was just like that with everyone.

Even Chibs and Juice had their own ways of hovering. Chibs would tease, calling you lass and finding ways to keep you engaged in conversation, while Juice, sweet but a little awkward tried to get your attention with random trivia or stupid bets with the other guys.

And then there was Happy, who'd just silently walk into your work area and take a seat, watching as you tinker, all while moving that toothpick around in his mouth before stalking off again wordlessly a while later.

It was all a little overwhelming, but you figured this was just how the Sons were—flirty, overprotective, and oddly competitive with each other. Besides, it was nice to feel included. You'd never had this kind of easy camaraderie before in this environment, and you weren't about to question it.

Gemma, on the other hand, saw right through them. She watched it all unfold with a knowing smirk, arms crossed like a mother watching her kids make fools of themselves.

Even Clay seemed amused by the way the guys found excuses to be around you. "Bunch of idiots," he muttered one afternoon, shaking his head as Jax and Juice argued over who got to hand you a wrench before Happy silently handed one to you.

Gemma chuckled. "Let 'em have their fun."

You, of course, remained blissfully unaware that you were the fun.

That all changed the day a customer got a little too comfortable.

You were at the front of the shop, wiping your hands on a rag as you explained the details of a tune-up to a man who had just brought in his car. He was middle-aged, maybe in his late forties, with a cocky smirk that immediately set off warning bells, not that you noticed.

Smiling politely, you handed him the clipboard, explaining the breakdown and keeping your tone professional. "So, with the labor and parts, you're looking at about—"

"You got a pretty face for a mechanic," He interrupted, looking you up and down.

You blinked partly in shock at his audacity and the other in surprise he was so bold in his words. "Uh, thanks?" You tried to steer the conversation back. You were used to men either hitting on you or speaking down to you. "So, if you're good with this, we can—"

"You sure you wanna be doing this?" He smirked, leaning in slightly. "Seems like a waste. A girl like you should be doing something... prettier. A pretty girl like yourself should have a guy taking care of her."

You felt your stomach twist, your grip tightening on the clipboard, trying not to yell at the customer. "I like what I do," you said, clearing your throat and trying to keep your voice even. "Now, if you're good with the estimate—"

He didn't let you finish as his hand slid to your waist, fingers pressing just enough to make your skin crawl. "Come on, sweetheart," he drawled. "maybe I could take you out sometime. Show you what it's like to be treated right. Show you how a real man—"

The hand was gone before you could react. One second, the guy was standing too close, and the next, he was stumbling backward, Jax's fist curled in his collar. The sound of the impact—fabric twisting, shoes scuffing against the concrete—was sharp, final.

Jax's voice was low, dangerous. "You touch her again, you're leavin' in a body bag."

The shop had gone silent. Tools were set down, and chairs scraped against the floor as Tig, Opie, and Juice moved in. Chibs cracked his knuckles, and Happy—who still hadn't said a word—was now staring the guy down with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

The customer, who had, up until now, been cocky and self-assured, realized too late that he had made a very big mistake. His hands shot up in surrender. "Hey, man, it was just a—"

"Get the hell out," Jax snapped, taking a step closer. "Now."

The man didn't hesitate. He turned and practically ran out of the shop, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, leaving his car behind without a second thought. The moment he was gone, the tension snapped like a rubber band.

It took you a second to realize you were still holding the clipboard in a death grip. You exhaled, forcing yourself to loosen your fingers. Opie was suddenly in front of you; his usual stoic expression softened. "You okay?"

You blinked at him, still processing what just happened. "Uh, yeah. I mean... that was a little intense."

Tig grinned, but there was still something dangerous in his expression. "Welcome to the family, sweetheart. No one touches what's ours."

You frowned at that. "Ours?"

Jax smirked, running a hand through his hair like he hadn't just threatened a man's life. "Don't think too hard about it, darlin'."

You did think about it. For about two seconds. And then you shrugged, figuring it was just their way of saying they had your back, but one thing was clear—this wasn't just a job anymore. These guys weren't just co-workers. They were family, and they had just made one thing very clear.

You are untouchable.

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satellite-evans · 5 months ago

Text

right where you left me

Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex girlfriend!reader

Summary: You're still where Max left you.

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

Hi everyone, this is the first fic that I’m posting for the folkmore series, I am so excited!!! Can’t wait to hear what you guys think <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The restaurant still smells the same. The warm scent of buttered bread, the faint tang of expensive wine in the air, the subtle undertone of aged wood and candle wax melting into soft pools of gold. It’s been months—years, maybe—since the night Max walked out, yet the place feels untouched, frozen in time. Just like you.

You sit at the same table, your fingers brushing against the linen napkin, tracing invisible patterns on the surface. The same table where his laughter once curled in the air, where his hands would have reached for yours without thinking. Your glass of water remains half-full, just as it was that night. Untouched. Forgotten. A relic of a moment that still lingers in the corners of your mind like an echo you can’t quite silence.

The candlelight flickers, its glow catching the delicate ring you still wear on your right hand—the one he gave you as a promise before he decided promises were too heavy to keep. You twist it absentmindedly, the metal cool against your skin, a contrast to the warmth of memory.

Outside, the city hums with life. Cars glide past, their headlights flashing like distant stars. The murmur of strangers, the clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter—all of it moves forward, untethered to the past. But here, at this table, in this restaurant where time seems to hold its breath, you sit in the hollow space he left behind.

And for the first time in a long while, you wonder if he ever comes here, too. If he ever stops just outside the door, hand hesitating on the handle, breathing in the familiar scent and remembering. Or if, like the promises he made, he’s let it all go.

“Are you ready to order?”

The waiter’s voice pulls you from your trance, gently but firmly, like a hand on your shoulder bringing you back to the present. You blink, your gaze shifting from the flickering candlelight to the young man standing beside your table, his notepad poised, his expression polite but unreadable.

You only shake your head, offering a tight smile. “Not yet,” you murmur, though you already know the answer.

He doesn’t question it. He never does. Maybe by now, he recognizes you—not just as another customer, but as a fixture of this place. The girl who always sits alone. The girl who never changes her order. The girl who lingers too long over a half-full glass of water, as if she’s waiting for it to fill itself. The girl who still waits for someone who isn’t coming back.

Does he wonder? Does he piece together the story in his mind, constructing quiet theories about why you return to the same spot, why your fingers still play absentmindedly with a ring that should’ve lost its meaning by now? Is he used to people like you—the ones who haunt old memories like ghosts who refuse to be laid to rest?

Or does he just think that you’re a girl frozen in time, that time went on for everyone else but that you wouldn’t know?

A girl that just can’t move on.

He nods, stepping away without another word, leaving you alone once more. Alone with the past. Alone with the quiet hum of the restaurant around you, the soft clatter of silverware, the muted conversations that blur together into white noise.

You exhale, glancing toward the empty chair across from you. It remains untouched, just as it was that night. Just as it has been every night since.

You wonder if Max ever thinks about this place. If he ever remembers the way your fingers used to trace lazy patterns over his knuckles while he rambled about race strategy, his voice animated, his eyes alight with passion. If he recalls how you’d bite your lip to keep from laughing when he confidently—yet disastrously—mispronounced the names of the wines on the menu, only to scowl at you in mock offense when you corrected him. If he ever sits in a quiet moment, caught off guard by a passing scent or a familiar song playing in the background, and suddenly, inexplicably, thinks of you.

If he feels even the slightest pang of nostalgia when he hears your name.

If he even knows that you come to this restaurant, even though you felt the most heart crushing pain here.

That he left you no choice but to stay here forever.

Or if he’s forgotten all of it. All of you.

You hadn’t meant to check, but old habits die hard. One second, your mind was wandering, and the next, your fingers were already scrolling, moving with a muscle memory you wished you didn’t have. Before your brain could stop them. Before your heart could brace itself.

And suddenly, there it was, a picture trending on Twitter.

Max Verstappen & Kelly Piquet expecting their first child together!

The words seem to blur for a moment, your vision tunneling, breath catching somewhere in your throat. And then, below the headline, a photo.

You wanted to say that it was irony or even faith that you found out that he was expecting a baby with another woman in the same restaurant where he would whispered sweet words about how he wanted to be father to your children so badly, but you don’t believe in faith anymore. This restaurant was just destined to haunt you forever.

At least he looks happy.

Happier than you remember. Happier than he ever was with you.

Your grip tightens on your phone, but your body remains still, frozen in place. The sounds of the restaurant fade into static, the clinking glasses and quiet laughter around you suddenly feeling like background noise to a scene you no longer belong in.

You exhale slowly, pressing your lips together as you force yourself to look away from the screen, as if that might erase the image from your mind. As if that might make it hurt less.

But it doesn’t.

The ring on your finger feels heavier. It presses into your skin like an anchor, pulling you back to a past you can’t escape, a past you’re still tethered to. You blink rapidly at the screen, hoping, praying, that the words will change. That maybe this is some cruel joke, some mistake, but they don’t. The image doesn’t blur. It’s real. It’s him.

Another picture.

Christmas. They’re spending it together.

A perfect family. The kind you used to imagine when you’d sit together, planning for the future, talking about how one day, maybe, you’d have a house full of children and laughter.

The cruelest part is how ordinary it all looks. A picture-perfect moment, the kind you once dreamed of having with him, now shared with someone else. A life you are no longer a part of.

It’s funny, really. How time moves forward for everyone but you. How the world shifts, the seasons change, new memories replace the old ones. Love finds new homes. But you? You’re still here, frozen in place, gathering dust like an abandoned photograph tucked away in a forgotten drawer, one that’s too painful to even look at anymore.

You can’t help yourself but eread the headline over and over again and look at the pictures of them spending Christmas together, as if the repetition might somehow make it easier to swallow. Your heart clenches, a familiar ache spreading through your chest. The kind of ache that never really goes away. The kind of ache that lingers, festers, and refuses to fade no matter how much time passes.

You want to scream, to throw your phone across the room, to erase the image, the words, the entire situation from existence. But you don’t. You sit still, paralyzed, watching the truth unfold in front of you, as if you’re witnessing something that’s no longer your story but someone else’s.

And maybe it is. Maybe it always was.

You think about the night he told you. The memory lingers, every detail sharp as if it just happened yesterday. The dim candlelight flickered between you, casting warm, uneven shadows on the table, making his eyes look darker than usual. Your hair was pinned up, just the way he liked it, because all you wanted was to be enough for him, to be loved and cherished by him just the way you loved him. You remember the way he fidgeted with the water glass in his hands, the way his fingers trembled slightly, betraying the calmness his voice tried to convey. He didn’t even drink from it, just held it there like it was something to anchor him. And you? You could feel it before he even spoke. The knot in your stomach, tight and twisting, the way your heart seemed to freeze in place, like it already knew what was coming before your brain would allow it to acknowledge the truth.

"I met someone."

The words barely make sense. They hang in the air between you, impossible to grasp. For a moment, it feels like the world tilts on its axis, like reality itself has cracked and this is some sort of cruel dream you’ll wake up from.

You almost laugh, bitter and disbelieving, because it doesn’t sound real. It doesn’t sound like Max. Not the Max who once whispered forever into your hair, promising you a future where nothing could tear you apart. Not the Max who swore he couldn’t imagine a life without you, who said your names together like they belonged in the same sentence, forever linked. But the words still come, and somehow, despite everything, they are his.

The restaurant around you starts to fade away, the sounds dulling to a distant hum, muffled like you’re underwater, as if the world is pulling away from you, inch by inch. Your heart races, but your body feels oddly disconnected from it all, like you're watching someone else’s life unfold before you, helpless to stop it. You take a shallow breath, but it doesn’t reach the depths of your chest, and the weight of the moment settles in there like a stone you can’t dislodge.

"What?" Your voice barely makes it past your lips, a fragile whisper, so quiet that for a second you think he won’t even hear you. But he does.

His gaze drops to the table, his eyes avoiding yours, as if he can’t bear to see you crumble, as if he’s already sorry for what he knows he’s about to do. His voice is quieter now, almost too soft to catch. "I didn’t mean for it to happen."

You shake your head, disbelief clouding your thoughts. Your hands curl into fists in your lap, nails digging painfully into your palms, trying to hold on to something, anything. The ring on your finger suddenly feels like it’s choking the life out of you. "But it did."

The words escape from your throat like shards of glass, sharp and cold, biting as they land between you. He swallows hard, and you wonder if he’s doing it to hold back tears, or if it’s just the weight of what he’s about to say.

“She has a daughter,” he adds, his voice thick, but the words hit you like a slap, sharp and unforgiving. You feel your mascara run as your eyes sting with the hot, unfamiliar ache of betrayal. But you don’t wipe the tears away. You don’t move. You just sit there, paralyzed, staring at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that could take it all back. That could prove this isn’t real. That could remind you of the love you thought was enough.

“She’s not mine,” he continues, his voice wavering, like he’s trying to make it sound better, like he’s trying to convince you this is somehow okay. “But I love her like she is.”

The words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. A sudden, cold numbness spreads across your chest, a pain that feels both sharp and hollow. The space between you and him stretches, filling with the things he can’t say.

“And her mother?” You force the words out, each one heavier than the last.

His silence is loud enough to drown out everything else—the clinking of silverware, the murmur of conversations from nearby tables, the soft jazz music playing in the background. Everything around you fades into the background until all that’s left is him and you, caught in the unbearable weight of what he won’t say.

When he finally speaks again, his voice barely rises above a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth. “I love her too.”

And just like that, it’s over. The last thread of hope you had been clinging to snaps, leaving you floating in a place where nothing makes sense anymore. The ring on your finger burns, searing into your skin, but you don’t take it off. Not yet. You can’t. Because somehow, it’s the only thing left of him, of the person you thought you knew, of the future that is no longer yours.

You know where he is now. He’s winning. He’s thriving. The world sees him on podiums, champagne in hand, his new life already unfolding in the bright lights. He’s standing beside someone else now, someone who doesn’t carry the weight of the past, someone who fills the space you left behind with ease. The world loves him, adores him. And you? You’re still at the restaurant, in the ruins of what he left behind, trapped in a love story that never got its happy ending, a story that no longer belongs to you.

You press your phone to your chest, as if it could somehow stop the ache from spreading. As if holding onto the past will make the present hurt less. But it doesn’t. The weight of the truth is suffocating, a heavy fog that settles over your heart, and you realize, with painful clarity, that you were never meant to be a part of his forever. You were never meant to last.

The whispers around you grow louder, piercing through the fog of your thoughts, and it doesn’t take much to understand why. You hear his name before you see him, and when you finally do, it feels like the ground beneath you tilts ever so slightly.

Max.

He looks different—sharper, somehow. More defined, more polished by the world that shaped him after you. His eyes sweep over the restaurant, and you wonder if they’ll stop on you, if he’ll look at you and see something from the past, something worth acknowledging. But no.

He’s here’s. At the restaurant. With her.

He really brought her here.

Kelly is beside him, her laughter effortless, untouched by the weight of history, the burden of old wounds. She leans into him, her hand resting gently on her stomach, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at him with the kind of love you used to think was meant for you. She doesn’t know what it’s like to sit in this seat, to watch someone walk away, to feel the years stretch endlessly before you as you wonder if they ever think about you.

Max’s gaze flicks across the room, and for just a split second, it lands on you. It’s so brief that you almost convince yourself it didn’t happen. But it did. His steps falter for a fraction of a second, his fingers tightening around Kelly’s hand before he looks away, as if something inside him is trying to hold onto a memory that’s already slipping through his fingers.

And that’s it. No smile. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just a glance, a flash of something unspoken, and then—nothing.

You knew that he didn’t care about you but, facing with that reality hurt you more than you thought. Here you were, coming to the same place a man hurt you because you loved him so much, only for the same man to come too because he didn’t love you at all.

What a shame.

Maybe it is true. Maybe you really are unawarely frozen in time. Maybe that would explain why you still feel the same pain now as on the day he left you.

You swallow hard, blinking away the burning in your eyes. The candle on the table flickers, casting long shadows that seem to stretch endlessly across the walls. The world outside moves forward, time marching on relentlessly, but you remain frozen in place, clutching onto the past like it’s the only thing that hasn’t slipped away.

The moment passes, and Max moves on, just like he always does.

But you? You’re still right where he left you.

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year ago

Text

Trying**

Based off of the following request where Y/N is desperate for Harry to breed her already!

Warnings: breeding kink, objectification (female to male), sex (p in v), oral sex (fem receiving), cum play, breast play, dirty talk, cnc kink, free use kink, daddy kink

WC: 6.8K

When you met Harry it was the summer of the start of your masters program. You were brand new to town and had taken the recommendation of a few of the students from the previous cohort about some good, local spots you needed to visit. One of these places happened to be a brewery in the heart of the Arts District in Downtown LA, Styles’ Brewing Co.. You’d moved down to LA one month before the semester at USC started and you hadn’t really made friends yet so you decided to just go and check the place out. Worse case scenario you didn’t meet anyone cool and just enjoy the pleasure of your own company. It was a Tuesday evening when you’d strolled in. The sun was setting soon and despite the slight breeze, it was still quite hot so you were glad you’d decided on wearing a dress. And when you got up to the business, you smiled at the funky, little bar. The decor inside was like 70’s post modern theme, it instantly put a smile on your face. It was nice and cool inside and Al Green was playing over the speakers. There were a handful of people in there already, so you glanced around as you walked up to the register and looked up to the menu.

“Welcome in! If you have any questions about our selection, let me know.” The smooth British voice offered and your eyes glanced down and met the prettiest set of green eyes you’d ever seen.

“Ummm, actually s’my first time here.” You explained and his smile widened, revealing his teeth, the way his two front teeth extended a bit lower than their neighbors gave him a boyish charm though he was clearly older than you. He looked really good though, he had to be like five or six years older.

“Well that’s great! I’m Harry.” He greeted you cheerfully.

“Hello, I’m Y/N.” You said with a friendly smile.

“Well Y/N, are you a beer drinker?”

“Kinda…not really. Sorry.” You confessed a bit bashfully.

“That’s alright.” He chuckled, “Just seeing where you’re at with beer.” He assured you, “I know we have quite a large selection up there. So if you’re not sure where to start or what you might like, we can talk little bit more about your taste and I can give you a little flight of samples so that you can narrow down your options.” He offered and you were pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you!” You smiled, “That’d be great because I am a little out of my depth here. And honestly, I can pay.” You assured him. Just then someone else walked up behind you in the line and he looked past you.

“Hey, H!” One of the person’s behind you greeted him cheerfully and he smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

“Ummm, you can help them first since I’m still figuring it out.”

“That’s kind of you.” He smiled, “Have a seat at the bar and I’ll be with you in just a minute.” He instructed and you nodded and did just that.

After a couple of minutes he was chatting with you again, asking about what you liked and disliked about beer. What kinds of flavor profiles you gravitated towards, and things of that nature before he pulled the samples for you. He talked you through each one, he even swapped two of them out upon receiving your feedback on the previous ones until finally you found the one. It was the “Sippin’ Pretty”, a guava and elderberry sour. It smelled amazing and tasted even better. When he realized that you were there alone he spent most of his time hanging around, checking in on you. It got a little busier around 8 o’clock, but you were on your second beer by then and just people watching as Harry and another person tended to the customers. Before you knew it you were having your third beer and feeling pretty tipsy. You were giggling at a story Harry was telling you about his friend’s two year old son and nearly knocked over your glass.

“Okay, I’m pretty fucked up.” You giggled again.

“Did you drive?” He asked.

“Yeah…I didn’t plan on being here for more than two hours.” You said and he smiled.

“Let’s get some food in you then. How do sweet potato fries sound?”

“Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You said and he chuckled.

“Alright, I’m gonna put an order in.” He said before hurrying over to the POS system.

You did sober up quite a bit after eating and having a glass of water and you needed to go, you’d been taking a lot of time away from Harry. You flagged him down and he came over to you quickly.

“Thank you for the VIP treatment tonight, Harry. I didn’t know I needed that.” You smiled and he smiled back.

“I’m glad you had a nice visit. Hopefully one of many more?” He inquired.

“Definitely.” You assured with a blissful grin, “I should get out of your hair though, so can I get the bill?” You asked.

“You’re good, love.” He smiled and you pouted.

“Don’t do that. You’ve done so much already, the least I could do is pay.” You insisted, “Besides, wouldn’t want you to get in trouble by comping that much.” You added and he smiled.

“Well, I’m actually the owner so…” He responded smugly and you tutted.

“Well, I believe you’ve just lost your case.” You grinned.

“How’s that?” He asked, perplexed.

“You’re a small business owner, the backbone of the local economy! If the roles were reversed I know there is no way you wouldn’t insist on paying.” You said and he smiled. “Please, Harry.” You insisted.

“Fine. But I’m applying the 15% employee discount.” He said and you grinned as he headed off to the register without allowing you another word in edgewise. You hopped off your seat and went over to the register and paid, giving the 15% back in tip which made him tut as you giggled.

“Thank you, again!” You called as you walked to the door and he smiled and waved as you headed out.

********************

By the end of your first semester, you’d become a regular at the brewery. You had become pretty good friends with Harry. You’d learned that he was 34, so 12 years older than you were. You learned that he’d been engaged but that it ended nearly five years ago. He’d earned a degree in computer science and he’d made a pretty penny when he helped develop some AI program and had sold it and had made a large sum of money from that. So he moved down from the Silicone valley fours years ago to open up this place and it was almost an instant success. He was fucking cool. You had a huge crush on him. Not only was he handsome but he was sweet as can be.

When he learned that you couldn’t afford to fly home for the holidays, he invited you to his and his friends’ holiday party. And well, on Christmas everything between the two of you changed. Thanks to a very eye-opening kiss under the mistletoe, if you could believe it. He dropped you off at home after the little get-together and as you were saying goodbye you kissed him again and that led to you two making out for half an hour before you finally pulled apart.

“Let me take you out.” He panted before kissing your cheek and you smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” You agreed with excitement lighting up your eyes. You really liked him, you sincerely thought he didn’t think of you in that way. Particularly because of his age, because in terms of interests and tastes, you had plenty of things in common. Regardless, you were so relieved that he was also into you.

And after that first date, things quickly heated up between the two of you. Despite how great of a catch Harry was, he hadn’t really had tons of dating experience, he’d only had two long-term partners. One during his entire time in high school and the other after he moved to the U.S., the one who he had been engaged with. And they ended things when he resigned from the job in the Silicone Valley. You on the other hand had lots of flings and little things here and there. You were a little reckless with your heart, probably the hedonist in you. But when you and Harry started talking more in depth about where your relationship would go, you learned that he only dated someone when he felt that he could develop big feelings for the person. He was cautious about who he gave his time, affection, and heart to. The fact that he was the way he was - attentive, caring, mature, stable, and wise - well, you started to fall in love with him quickly.

Your relationship with Harry became serious quite fast, but he insisted that you two wait until you graduated to make moves towards merging your lives even more. He proposed to you over dinner the night before your graduation with your parents and siblings there for it. A few weeks after graduation you moved into his house. The time you didn’t spend together or working, was spent planning the wedding. A year later, you two were married and just relishing in your new life together.

….THREE YEARS LATER….

You and Harry had now been married for three extraordinary years. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but most of the time it was. By now, most of your friends were married too but the biggest difference was that they were already on the baby train. One of your good friends got married because she’d gotten pregnant and the other two had their first kids just a year apart from each other. At first, Harry had baby fever far more than you did but lately there was just something in the air that had you feeling absolutely feral for him. To put it more poetically, you had a need to breed. You were feeling horny every time you were around him.

Maybe it was the weather that was finally heating up? Or the fact that along with that, Harry would wear more t-shirts at the brewery. You’d get to see him lugging big, heavy boxes of produce or crates of glassware to and from the kitchen and bar, meaning he was constantly showing off his strength. He was so smart and strong and capable, and he was the best husband and partner to you. He gave you everything you wanted and more! So you knew that he could give you the most beautiful babies in the world. And lately, the thought was just ever present. Everything about him had you swooning.

Even now, just the way he would try to reach his big hands into the glasses to dry them properly made your pussy flutter and swell with need. Why were his arms so fucking big? And why did the masskrug look so tiny in his hands? You swear you would soon start to drool if you had to watch him any longer.

“What?” He chuckled as you just watched him from the other side of the bar top.

“N-nothing. Just…watching you. And your…big hands. And big arms.” You smiled and his eyes flickered up to yours and he smirked as he recognized the lustful look in them.

“What about ‘em?”

“Nothing really…just, I don’t know, I’m suddenly very aware of how…strong you are. S’a little distracting.” You shrugged and he hummed.

“Distracting enough that you shouldn’t be the one doing the payroll?” He asked and you giggled.

“Babe, I was an art major…I never should’ve been doing your payroll to begin with.” You joked and he chuckled.

“That’s probably true.” He joked back with a playful little grin as he glanced back down at the glass he was drying.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” You asked.

“What, my love?” He asked without pulling his eyes from his task.

“I think I’m ready to start trying for a baby.” You said far too nonchalantly. So much so that in response all you heard was the shattering of glass as the masskrug fell to the ground. “Oh shit!” You gasped, “Are you alright?” You asked him and he glanced up at you with a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, love. M’fine. Just…surprised me with that one.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile as his eyes bore into yours.

“I’ll get the broom.” You said softly as you prepared to hop off of the stool.

“Hey! No, no, no…don’t scamper off just yet.” He called out, “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that.” He said with a smirk. You felt your cheeks heating up as the blood rushed up to your face.

“I was going to come back…”

“You want to have a baby?” He asked, bringing the topic back to that.

“I mean…yeah. Of course!” You shrugged.

“What brought this on?” He asked.

“Well…lately I’ve just been really…horny. But it’s more than that… it’s like…I can’t get enough of you. I just want more of you. More of us.” You said and he smiled, “I think that you’d be an amazing father and the idea of you, all handsome and rugged like you are, just caring after such a perfect and tiny little thing…I don’t know, it’s just been doing things to me lately.” You explained and he was smirking smugly at you. “Don’t make fun.” You mumbled and he shook his head.

“Of course not, my love.” He assured you, “I’m just glad you’ve finally come around.” He said and you rolled your eyes. Considering you were the young one here, you wanted to wait so that you could enjoy your marriage for a bit and have time to get your lives together before starting on a family. “But how do I know you’re not gonna change your mind? I know that you wanted to enjoy us for a while before we considered starting a family.”

“Well, it’s been three years…we’ve traveled, your business has grown, I’ve had my own exhibit like I wanted to…” you pointed out, “I mean, trying means just that, trying. It could take a few attempts and I’m ready to start if you’re…you know, also ready for that.” You said with a placid smile.

“Yeah, okay.” He said with a boyish grin adorning his face. “Should we make an appointment with your doctor?”

“Mmm…I say we do it the old fashioned way.” You said with a suggestive tone and he chuckled, “Just…go at it every chance we get until we get lucky.” You shrugged and he chuckled.

“Baby, as lovely and tempting as that sounds, I have work.” He reminded you and you grinned.

“Well based on the numbers I’m seeing here, you can afford to hire someone else.” You added and he chuckled.

“That’s how bad you want it?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly and he smiled.

“Alright, my love. Your wish is my command.” He assured and you smirked, “Damn it…” he mumbled.

“What?” You asked with a small frown.

“Now I’m hard.” He admitted and you grinned. “Though…the thought of getting you pregnant always makes me hard so…” he chuckled.

“Then do something about it.” You taunted and he chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“Right now?” He asked and you shrugged.

“Seize the moment.” You smiled.

“Baby…” he said, looking quite tortured and you just smiled at him.

“Come here.” You said and he came around the bar. You twirled around in the stool when he was before you, “I stopped taking my birth control two weeks ago…” you informed enticingly.

“You did?” he asked as he leaned down and you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Mmhm.” You confirmed. “Please, fuck me.” You requested.

“Here?!” He chuckled nervously and you nodded.

“I’m your wife, yeah?” You asked and he nodded before pecking your lips again, “You vowed to have me for all the days of our life, did you not?” You asked with a soft and seductive tone.

“That not how it goes… but I did…” he hummed in amusement.

“Then have me. Anytime you want. Whenever, wherever we are until you do what we set out to do. I don’t even need to come. Just need you to come. Need you to come a lot inside of me.” You said in a low and sultry voice. He was nearly panting, his fingers digging into your thighs through the light fabric of your dress. “I love you. I need you. I need you so fucking bad.” You pleaded and next thing you knew your lips were meeting in a desperate and heated kiss as your hands shakily worked at the button and fly of his jeans. When you had them and his briefs low enough to let his erection spring free, he pushed your dress up and tore your underwear off before stuffing them into his pocket. “Get inside of me. Please!” You begged hungrily and he pulled you closer until his cock was sliding through your already hot and slippery folds.

“So fucking wet. Ready to get knocked up, aren’t you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” You whispered and he kissed you again. “Do it, baby. Fuck me.” You panted.

Without another warning he pushed against your entrance until your little hole stretched around his veiny, girthy cock. You gasped as he plunged deep inside of you on the first thrust, but you needed that. You needed him like this. Over and over, his cock rammed inside of you until you’d wince with how deep he was getting inside. It felt delicious. Your nails were digging into his big, bulging biceps as you moaned aloud without any care in the word. His deep, consistent grunts were perfectly timed with his thrusts, they made your head and tummy flutter with how deep they were. You were completely blissed out. Your skin was covered in goosebumps and your walls were fluttering and squeezing his cock deliciously. He was fighting to hold his need to come back, but then again, that’s what you wanted from him; his cum flooding your insides. Painting your insides with everything he had to give until he gave you a baby. Not just a baby, his baby. A product of all of the love you shared for each other.

Everything about him was everything you’d ever wanted. He was everything to you and having more of him in this way was something that you couldn’t even comprehend, you just needed it. It was instinctual to have more with someone who was so embedded into your mind, heart, and soul. What more was there to this often sad and destructive life than to make love and create more beauty to add to it?

“Fuck…I’m gonna come.” He groaned as he started to rub his thumb over your clit in swift little circles. Maybe you didn’t need to come, but he wanted you to. He needed to feel you spasming around his cock as he filled you up. When he heard your breath catch he smiled, “Come for me, baby. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” He panted and seconds later your legs were shaking around his hips as you thrust up to meet his deep and unforgiving plunges as you whimpered and whined as you came undone. Your sounds turned into weak little grunts that escaped your throat in perfect time with his thrusts until he was stopping deep inside of you. You could feel his cock twitching as he shot spurt after spurt of his sperm deep into you until he had nothing left to give. After he finished he kissed you deeply. “Did you mean that? Whenever I want?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, free use. I always want you, H.” You smiled, “Always need you.” You assured him as you caressed his face with the back of your hand.

“Okay, baby. But if you ever want me to stop or aren’t in the mood just say…hmmm…”

“Sour.” You suggested with a dopey smile, “After the first beer you served me.” You said and he chuckled. You weren’t always all sentimental like that, but he loved when you were.

“Alright, my love. Sours is our safe word.” He agreed before kissing your lips quickly. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Jeremy gets in. S’almost his shift.” He reminded and you giggled and pulled him down down for another kiss.

“Maybe delete the footage from this time frame.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, but only after I save it…for memories, you know?” He said mischievously and you giggled.

“I love you so much.” You hummed happily.

“I love you more, my love.” He whispered.

****************

After that first time at his brewery, there was hardly any stopping Harry. Like you’d asked before, he’d have you whenever he well pleased. It was far easier for him to picture you growing with his baby now. It didn’t matter to him that you were occupied, he’d just get your pants off or dress out of the way and plunge in and you were more than fine with that. It even happened a few times while you slept, you’d wake up with him hovering over you, sliding his cock between your spread legs. Much to his surprise, you were soaking wet about 80% of the time and when you weren’t it didn’t take much to have you dripping and begging for him to put it in. He hadn’t given much thought to the baby’s sex or even names, he just wanted a baby with you and he’d be more than pleased regardless. Like now...

You were being stirred awake by Harry turning you on your back and gently prodding into your entrance. You groaned a bit as he tried to push in a bit but you weren't wet enough for his sizable cock yet.

"Just give me minute." you mumbled.

"I want you now." he said and then you felt a warm wad of spit land over your pussy before he smeared his erection all over it and then sunk in with more ease, "There we are..." he hummed in approval as he got about halfway. He sighed in relief as your warm and tight walls started to slick up around him quickly. "Had a very pleasant dream of you showing me a positive test. Woke up so fucking hard." he panted through his thrusts and then smirked when you got even more wet for him.

"Fuck, it feels so good inside you, baby." he sighed and you moaned when he ground into you.

"A little harder, daddy." you whispered, voice still rough from sleep. He hummed and gave it to you a bit harder, the soft smacks of your bodies meeting grew a little louder. And he gradually started increasing his force until your headboard was thumping against the wall and you whined out, "T-too hard!" you whimpered and he brought a thumb to your clit.

"You know what to do if it's too much, baby." he said comfortingly. He knew you liked to get whiny every now and again. "You say "sour", right?" he asked and you nodded. "Use your words, my love." he encoruaged.

"I know." you added, "Just...a little slower, please?" you requested and those puppy-dog eyes absolutely melted him to the core. His stern demeanor softened and a little smile appeared on his mouth as he stopped and then leaned down to kiss your lips quickly.

"Okay, baby. Sorry, got a little excited over that dream." He hummed against your lips. He then started thrusting again, undulating his hips in a way that got him right up against your g-spot. "Like that?" he asked and you whimpered as he started to grind a bit harder.

"Yes, daddy! Like that..." you keened and he groaned lowly as your walls started to flutter around him seconds later. He started to rub on your clit again until you started to tremble. You choked on a moan as your orgasm started to build far too much for you to keep inside. "Oh baby, I'm...I'm gonna come!" you gasped.

"Go on, baby. Let me feel your drenching my cock. Get you ready for my cum." he panted, "Ready for me to put a baby in that pretty body of yours." your eyes rolled back and your back arched until your body just froze and your walls started to spasm as your orgasm washed over you. The gorgeous flutters of pleasure bloomed from your tummy and rippled through your body, making your legs twitch and for your finger nails to dig into Harry's thick, muscular thighs.

"Yes, baby. Yes!" he groaned as his own pleasure built up to a point of no return. His steady rhythm faltered as he grunted through three deep thrust until he was holding your hips tightly as he started to shoot his sperm deep in you. You loved how he praised you for taking it all.

And when the height of it passed he only pulled out to turn you onto your side and then spooned you only to thrust back in. He lightly shivered from the sensitivity, but he wanted all of his cum to stay inside. You pulled one of his hands up to your mouth and kissed the back of it before sighing happily.

"I'll always take care of you. You know that, right?" he asked and you nodded as you hummed, "You're everything to me." he said softly, "I already love you with everything in my being. Can't possibly imagine how much more it can grow for you once we have our baby." he said softly and you smiled.

"I think you'll love the baby the most." you whispered.

"I don't know...you're the one giving me the baby." he reasoned and you smiled. "But what I do know is that you're my whole life. I'm so fucking fortunate to have you to share this with. Love you." he hummed.

"Love you, H." you smiled.

"Want you to do something for me, baby." he added, "Gonna send you some stuff I was looking up earlier. Stuff to like prepare your body and increase your chances, you know? Give it a try?"

"Of course, baby." you agreed easily.

***************

On top of the things Harry had suggested to you, you had also been implementing your own measures to optimize your health enough to successfully conceive. You had made significant improvements to your diet and even started taking prenatal vitamins and teas that you hoped would help. And since Harry owned and worked at the brewery you asked him to please stop serving you alcohol, no matter how much you asked for it, so your taste-testing badge had been revoked. You were also getting more rest and even started exercising more with him. Incidentally, this was something that just made you more horny for him. Considering that exercise helped you produce endorphins you were in a far better mood and up for sex more than before.

Maybe it was a little indecorous of you, but you honestly enjoyed the dull ache that seemed to permanently reside between your legs as of late. You actually craved more of it, especially at times like these, when you watched him working out from across the gym while you just kept a moderate pace on the elliptical. He was making eye contact with you from the mirror with a subtle smile ignoring the other people who were very clearly ogling him as he did his deadlifts. You couldn’t blame them, Harry was a masterpiece of a human. He was tall, handsome, attractive, and good natured. The way his muscles tightened up as he worked through his routine made you hungry for him in sinful ways. So much so that you needed to go and fuck. Now.

You got off of the machine and went to grab a wipe to clean off the handles and buttons you’d touched before asking him to leave. He wouldn’t mind cutting his workout short, that’s what you’d be doing more of anyway if you really thought about it. You decided to gather your things from the locker in the bathroom and then head over to grab him. When you headed over to the free weights area you saw a girl trying to chat him up, he seemed a bit annoyed but was too polite to tell her to go away. It may have seemed he was fair game because he wasn’t wearing his wedding band right now (you always reminded him to take his ring off when he was lifting heavy because your wedding bands were made of gold, a soft metal, so it could easily get warped with the amount of weight he lifted), but he was all yours and you needed him now. His evident display of strength had you completely drenched in your underwear. You could feel the steady throb of your walls even as you walked over. You could see him glancing over to the cardio section through the mirror, probably searching for you to help but you were just about to reach him.

“Baby!” You called out to him from a few feet away and he whipped around and his smile of relief made you smirk. He could see the hunger in your gaze from where he was. The girl that walked up to him looked mortified as she connected the dots before scurrying off. Harry quickly re-racked the weights he’d been using before setting the bar back in place and hurrying over to you. “I need you to get me home. Stat.” You said lowly as you walked through the gym and he chuckled.

“Alright, my love. Not a problem.” He hummed with a big, warm hand on your lower back.

In nearly twenty minutes you were carefully getting into the shower together, the foreplay was in how he talked to you and touched you as you got cleaned up. Everything was building up as he smoothed over your breasts with his soapy hands and talked about how big they’d get when he finally got you pregnant. Things like this that you never thought could rile you up were doing the job. You loved to see his big veiny hands playfully tugging and rolling your nipples between his fingers while you ground back into his erection.

“God, you’re so fucking big.” You mumbled as he rutted his erect cock again your plump backside.

“I know. Almost too big for your pretty little cunt.” He responded and you nodded in agreement. “But you like that, don’t you?” You asked and you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.” You hummed, already feeling a little loopy.

“Turn around.” He said and you twirled around and looked up at him, “How do want it, my love?” He asked and you bit your lip as your mind started to wander and imagine all of the options you had. Then, you glanced over to the bench you used for shaving, “Wanna ride me?” He asked upon noticing where it was you had looked.

“Yeah, can I?”

“Of course.” He smirked.

And before you knew it you were sinking down onto his cock impatiently. You slightly hissed at the sting of the initial stretch but kept going, pushing through the slight discomfort. You loved the pain of the stretch as he tried to fit inside of you. You sometimes grew sad over the fact that it’d never feel like the first time you had sex again, you’d only been able to take half of him that first time and you’d been so tight around him that he came twice all over your pussy and tummy. Riding him was as close as you got to recreating that. You loved how full you felt when you rode him, how it felt like he was so big that he was penetrating up into your stomach, literally rearranging your guts. It made you breathless and cock drunk so quickly. He was holding you up a good amount because the bench wasn’t as big as it looked, so you were struggling and your knees were starting to hurt and you couldn’t touch his big, taut muscles like you hoped you could.

“Fuck this, lets get out.” You panted impatiently and he lifted you up like you were nothing, holding you to his body as he quickly shut the water off, shampoo and all still in your hair. You stumbled into the bedroom and barely made it to the bed. He just sat and you started grinding away at him. You pushed his chest back and he got the hint and laid back as you started to ride him a bit harder.

“Put your arms behind your head for support.” You said and he did so.

“Like this?” He asked and you nodded quickly. His glorious arm muscles were on full display and you could see how even his lats were nice and toned.

“Flex for me.” You requested and he did and you groaned loudly. You just wanted to bite into his biceps.

“You’re so fucking hot, daddy. So big and strong, always take such good care of me.” You panted as you rode him. Your hands roamed his chest and abs, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tracing the dip between his pecs with your index fingers and then going between his abs like you were tracing through a little maze. You started grinding in a way that he could plunge against your g-spot and he moaned over you as he felt his tip up against your spot and his eyes squeezed shut for a second.

“Fuck, right there…I’m…I’m gonna come soon.” He warned and you smirked.

“So fast?” You teased and he chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and squeezing your body tight.

“You want my cum don’t you? So what does it matter?” He asked and you melted at his question. Normally you wouldn’t mind if he came soon, you didn’t necessarily need orgasms for sex to be worth it for you. What got you off was the vibe. His energy, being present and in tune with him, making each other feel good, relishing in the intimacy of the moment. But right now, you did want to come around him.

“I want to come.” You whined softly and he suddenly flipped you back to missionary and thrust deeper into you until you gasped and pinched your eyes closed for a second.

Harry knelt up to have a better range of motion and he started going deep and slow. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out of you, it was absolute bliss. Over and over his tip was colliding with that spot inside of you that ached and felt like ecstasy at the same time. He then slid one of his hands up your tummy until he was reaching for your breast. He groped and squeezed and felt at it in his hand. You reached for his arms and just caressed his arm. You traced up his fingers and then felt over his forearm, you were obsessed with how solid it was. Then, you worked your way up his bicep, squeezing his muscles, feeling his strength. Then, you lightly raked your nails from the butterfly inked above his abs all the way down to where your bodies were connected. His skin was littered in goosebumps and his movements stuttered.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly and you glanced up at him, “It’s too much, baby. I’m so close!” He warned again and you smirked. Just getting to be close and feel him like this was working you up to his level. Watching him be so affected by your feather light touches was doing you in. You tickled up his other arm and he shuddered as he squeezed over your breast harder than before and you intentionally squeezed your walls around his cock. You took the time to feel it all; how he felt inside of you, how his damp skin was getting warmer and warmer the closer he got to coming. How every time you bucked up with him, your clit would bump against his pelvis, that’s how close you were. It was pushing you to the edge, you were teetering on it!

“Me too! I’m so close, daddy!” You moaned and he started going a bit faster and you moaned breathily, “Fuck, right there! Just like that, don’t stop!” You pleaded. He was locked in on this place until he felt your thighs starting to tremble around his hips. He lowered himself and kissed you deeply.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you, my love? Taking such good care of yourself so that you can have my baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, daddy!” You whined out.

“Fuck, I hope this is the one…” he groaned and you moaned again. “You’re squeezing so tight…shit, come for me. Come on my cock, baby.” He grunted through his hard thrusts and the tight coil of pleasure finally gave way and that tight feeling in your body started to come undone. Your hips thrusted against his without any concern for the pace he’d set as the pleasure just racked through you and wiped you out like a tidal wave. You could feeling it consuming ever nerve ending from the top of your head and down to your toes. You hugged him close to your body, letting your hands roam down his back and squeeze his ass, pushing him even deeper until he couldn’t go any further inside of you.

“Please, put your baby in me! Come inside me, baby. Come inside me, breed me!” You whimpered and he groaned as he started to deliver hard, unforgiving thrusts as his sperm shot deep into you. The sounds coming from where your bodies were joined were absolutely filthy but you loved them. You loved that there was so much of his sperm that it made a squelchy mess for you that could be heard. You were twitchy and trembly as he filled you to the brim but that didn’t stop him from slipping out and getting on the ground to lick up your cunt. His tongue flicked at your clit until you were crying out in over stimulation as you came again.

Your abdominal muscles were putting in work as your orgasm rippled through you, your spasming walls started to push out some of his sperm but he was not about to let any of it go to waste.

“Nuh-uh, this cum is for you.” He mumbled lowly as his fingers slid down to about your perineum before he smeared them over your entrance carefully to get it back in you. Just knowing that the slight gape of your tight little hole was caused by his big cock made him want to fuck you all over again. He stretched you open a bit more and was able to see his cum stuffed inside of you, right to the brim. “Fuck, there’s so much of it.” He chuckled lowly as you twitched beneath him. He then laid back down and had you drape your legs over his just to keep you at an incline.

“Think we did it this time?” You asked and he smiled before kissing the back of your hand.

“Think so… but as much as I want to have a baby with you, I wouldn’t mind if it takes a little while longer. I love fucking you like this.” He chuckled his confession and you did as well.

“This is not the position you want me in if you want this to take longer to accomplish.” You pointed out and he laughed a bit and then got up and leaned over you to kiss you slowly. You hugged him close and rubbed over his back soothingly. You wrapped your legs around him and trapped him against your body, koala style. He laughed at your silliness as he tried to pull back. “Not yet.” You pouted.

“Baby, we need to finish our shower.” He reminded. “Come on…I’ll fuck you again after. Really make it stick.” He said with a suggestive tone and you loosened your grip around him enough for him to pull back.

“I am obsessed with you.” You said and he smiled, “I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else. I wouldn’t want to.” You added softly and tenderly before arching up to kiss him deeply.

“As am I, my love. And I promise, we’re gonna keep trying as long as it takes.” He assured you. “And all through it I’m going to take such good care of you. I’ll keep you safe. S’my job, as your husband to do that. My favorite job in the world.” He smiled as he looked at you lovingly.

“I love you so much.” You hummed.

“Love you.” He whispered.

>> Next Part>>

Trying update ask! (WC: 3.7k)**

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tarotbyjam24 · 4 months ago

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Main paid readings' list

This is a main paid readings list ,every link of new paid readings are available in this post and you may navigate there through this post or you can dm me your queries I'm always here to help you find a solution love 🫶🏻

𐙚 ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ 𐙚

pick a piles free reading feedbacks paid reading feedbacks

𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚Free reading offers⠀𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚

readings I offer ⋅ᯓᡣ𐭩

18+ readings

intuitive moodboard readings

pick a piles paid readings

2\3\5\7\10 cards readings

detailed pick a piles readings

astrology+ tarot reading combination

Mickey and co mystery box

tarot packages[scroll down to check them out ]:25 $ \1500 rs

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HOW TO BOOK A READING : send me your questions + name\initilals via dms . I can send you your reading via dms or emails as per your wish

length of readings will depend on the things I'm able to pick up or I'll be allowed to pick up from your energy and it may differ from person to person. Length for free readings offer may vary ♡

I'm very grateful if you support me to earn my first 1k dollars which will be used to purchase my 1st ever laptop 🩷🥂

If you're not sure what questions you wanna ask I can suggest you few questions regarding your situations or you can take ideas from pick a piles posted on my blog <3

My e-mail: [email protected]

PAYMENT MODE : paypal \Google pay \upi \kofi

RULES───── ⋆ ꩜ ⋆ ─────RULES

Regardless of the price and word limit I won't compromise with the quality and honesty . I'll be brutally honest and help you to show light at the end of tunnel .

You must pay before and send screenshot of payment before I start doing your reading

No refunds policy

clear and respectful conversation with no room for misunderstandings

you must provide me feedback after the reading as it'll help me to improve my abilites and attract more customers

Waiting period : most likely I'll do the reading few mins\hours later. appx time : 24 -72 hours after you've done payment but if there's any emergency then waiting period is of 1- 2 weeks .

if I've slots booked already and you want urgent reading within 15mins to 3 hr then fee is 100 rs \ 5 $ for small readings

and if you want urgent packages reading within 1 -5 hrs then fee is 300 rs\ 9 $.

No health\death\leagal\3rd party related questions

All the private information shared by clients will be kept confidential .

Readings are for guidance purposes only and do not replace professional advice (medical, legal, financial, psychological).

please have trust and patience in me while purchasing readings as it's my first time trying paid readings or anything of my own .

and lastly nothing's set in stone take the readings as guidance offered to you according to your current energies and what my cards had to tell you .

for 18+ readings you must be 18 or 18+

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Tarot reading packages

I'll answer all of your curiosity you can also ask for mini questions like why,where,when,who,etc to be added under those prompt's questions and specifically ask me to focus on any particular topic that you'd like to get more insight on . In case reading gets super lengthy or out of what I offer I suggest you to either curate your own another pacakge or purchase my 3\5\7 cards readings to get more clarity and focus on one aspect \ situation

delivery time is 2-7 days after payment is done incase of emergency waiting period is of 1-2 weeks

you can create your own package too . We can discuss it while you purchase your readings .

All packs can be edited [add or remove ] according to your taste,mood and vibe🫧

you can also get\create your own personalised pack of 4-6 pick a pile topics from my masterlist for same price too [ 25 $ \ 1200 rs (1200-2000 words ) ]

If you wanna add more questions but don't wanna pay more then I'll keep the reading length as stated below .

Every question add on costs 5$\250 rs

10 images moodboard along with tarot packages costs 5$ \100 rs and so on

rest all rules are same

1 pack price : 25 $ \ 1500 rs [ words : 1200 - 2000 ]

Reader's note : I feel I'll never be actually able to create perfect packs suitable to everyone's taste so yeah you can always add your spice and magic . I'll for surely come up with another solution for this issue in future 🌸

Intimacy────୨ৎ────Desires

[ These packages are customisable for any person you'd like to get reading upon ex : fs,crush,bf,gf, celebrity,etc ]

Totoro's Secrets

1. What are their late-night thoughts about you?

2. What would they do if you appeared in front of them for the first time?

3. What about you turns them on?

4. What would they find sexy about you?

Princess Mononoke's Wild Heart

1. What makes them horny about you?

2. How will they express jealousy and possessiveness?

3. What are their expectations in bed?

4. How will you fulfill their expectations?

Howl's Moving Castle of Relationships

1. How will they act when you two are in public vs alone ?

2. What are their kinks?

3. How will they handle conflicts for the first time? How will be your make up sex?

4. How would they aftercare you?

Hoshikage

1. What will they do when they catch you secretly pleasuring yourself? What will be their reaction?

2. What about you will make them have desire to pleasure themselves?

3. How clingy they'll be ?

4. How will they handle you when you act all bratty and bossy ?

5. What about you will make them hard\wet ?

Confessions────୨ৎ─────Roses

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Ponyo's Ocean of Affection

1. How will they pursue you?

2. What are your FS's favorite things about you?

3. How will they confess their feelings?

4. What's their vision for your future together?

Whisper of the Heart's Promise

1. What's your wedding/engagement day with them be like?

2. What are their red and green flags?

3. How do they feel about you?

4. How will they spoil you?

5. What you and they'll feel on this special day

The sunlit hearth

1. how will they celebrate you and their all firsts ?

2. What will be their emotions on these special days ?

3. how will they treat you ?

4. How will you be treated by their people [parents\friends\siblings\relatives,etc ] ?

5. How will their people [parents\friends\siblings\relatives,etc] percieve you ?

Mind ────୨ৎ──── Body

Spirited Away's Journey of Self

1. What's your sexual appeal?

2.What makes you intimidating?

3. What are your red and green flags?

4. What do others find sexy about you?

5.What's your seducing style?

6. How do you serve ?

No-Face's Reflections

1. What's your reputation?

2.Why are you "that\it girl/boy"?

3. What are your most attractive traits?

4. What's unique about you?

5. How do others perceive you [ can be read for any specific person too like colleagues\crush\this stranger ]?

Ashitaka's Inner Turmoil

1. What's your current emotional state?

2. What's causing turmoil in your mind?

3. How can you regulate your emotions and these disarrays ?

4. Clarity regarding the situation you're stucked in

Grandma Hama's Ancient Wisdom

1. How does your higher self want to motivate you?

2. What's your inner child's dreams?

3. How can you nurture your inner child?

Universe────୨ৎ──── Energy

Zeniba and the Soot Sprites Within

1. What's the energy around you?

2. What upcoming surprises does the universe have in store for you?

3. What's happening in your life sectors?

4. What's something you should improve, let go, and adopt?

Mei's Little Blessings

1. What's the current state of your relationships?

2. What's blocking your blessings?

3. How can you navigate your life?

4. What's the outlook for your career and finances?

5. How can you invite more material abundance in your life?

Changes ────୨ৎ────Opportunities

Catbus's Unexpected Paths

1. What's the current state of your career?

2. What opportunities are coming your way?

3. How can you increase your financial abundance?

4. What's the outlook for your long-term career goals?

Nausicaä's Winds of Change

1. What's the biggest challenge you're facing right now?

2. How can you overcome your fears and doubts?

3. How can you develop a growth mindset ?

4. What's your vision for your life?

5. How can you cultivate mindfulness and presence?

6. What's the universe's message for you right now?

Manifestations ────୨ৎ──── and Shadows

Kodama's Forest Guidance

1. What's your spiritual purpose?

2. How can you connect with your higher self?

3. What's the universe's guidance for you right now?

4. How can you cultivate spiritual growth and awareness?

Calcifer's Fiery Purpose

1. What's your life purpose?

2. How can you align with your values and passions?

3. What's the meaning of your life experiences?

4. How can you find fulfillment and happiness?

Fio's Ingenious Empowerment

1. What are your strengths?

2. What are your weakness?

3. How can you empower yourself?

4. What's your personal mantra?

Kagemasa's Hidden Truths

1. What's your shadow self trying to tell you?

2. How can you heal your inner wounds?

3. What's the root cause of your fears and doubts?

4. How can you integrate your shadow self into your conscious awareness?

5. How can you develop self-compassion and self-forgiveness?

Lin's Golden Dreams

1. What's blocking your manifestations?

2. How can you attract abundance into your life?

3. What do you need to manifest your desires?

4. How can you maintain a positive mindset ?

Family and ────୨ৎ──── love life

The Yamada Family's Everyday Bonds

1. What's the current state of your family\ relatioship dynamics?

2. How can you improve your relationships with family members\lover ?

3. What's casuing of conflicts in your family\love life?

4. How can you maintain healthy boundaries in your family\love relationships?

Arrietty's Secret Connections

1. What's the current state of your love life?

2. Who's coming into your life romantically?

3. What's the potential for a long-term relationship?

4. How can you attract your ideal partner?

5. How can you improve your communication skills?

San's Deep Connection

1. How can you deepen intimacy with your partner?

2. What's blocking emotional connection in your relationship?

3. How can you communicate your desires effectively?

4. What's the key to maintaining a healthy and fulfilling sex life?

Self worth ────୨ৎ──── and growth

Osono's Warm Embrace

1. How can you cultivate self-worth and self-respect?

2. What's blocking your ability to receive love and affection?

3. How can you practice self-care and self-compassion?

4. What's no longer serving you ?

Chihiro's Great Transformation

1. What's the biggest area for personal growth in your life?

2. How can you overcome self-sabotaging patterns?

3. How can you transform your life?

4. How can you maintain motivation and momentum on your personal growth journey?

Jiji's Guiding Wisdom

1. What's your life purpose and how does it relate to your career?

2. How can you align your career with your passions and values?

3. What's the potential for success in your current career?

4. How can you make a career transition that aligns with your life purpose?

Celebrity ────୨ৎ──── and you

Baron's Inspiring Presence

1. What's the energetic connection between you and your favorite celebrity?

2. How can you embody the qualities you admire in your favorite celebrity?

3. What can you learn from your favorite celebrity's life experiences?

468 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 2 years ago

Text

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 month ago

Text

Who Broke the Internet, Part IV

HEY SEATTLE! I'm appearing at the Cascade PBS Ideas Festival NEXT SATURDAY (May 31) with the folks from NPR's On The Media!

"Kick 'Em In the Dongle" is the fourth and final episode of "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?", a podcast series I hosted and co-wrote for the CBC. It's quite a finale!

https://www.cbc.ca/listen/cbc-podcasts/1353-the-naked-emperor/episode/16148346-kick-em-in-the-dongle

The thesis of the series is the same as the thesis of enshittification: that the internet turned into a pile of shit because named people, in living memory, made policies that were broadly "enshittogenic" because they insulated businesses that tormented their end users and business customers from any consequences for their cheating:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydVmzg_SJLw

Moreover, these people were warned at the time about the certain consequences of their policies, and they ignored and dismissed both expert feedback and public opinion. These people never faced consequences or any accountability for their actions, as tech criticism focused (understandably and deservedly) on the businesses that took advantage of the enshittogenic policies and enshittified, without any understanding that these firms were turning into piles of shit because of policies that reward them for doing so.

Episode one of the series tells the story an enshittification poster-child: Google. We look at the paper-trail that emerged from the Department of Justice's successful monopoly prosecution of Google, and what it reveals about the sorry state of internet search today:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/08/who-broke-the-internet/#bruce-lehman

That paper-trail documents an intense power-struggle within Google: in 2019, Google's ad revenue czar went to war against Google's search boss, demanding that search be deliberately worsened. This may sound paradoxical (or even paranoid), but for Google, making search worse made a perverse kind of sense. The company's search revenue growth had stalled, for the obvious reason that Google had a 90% market share in search, which meant that basically everyone was a Google search user, leaving the company with no new potential customers to sign up.

In 2019, Prabhakar Ragahavan – the ex-McKinsey, ex-Yahoo MBA who ran ad revenue for Google – came up with an ingenious solution: just make search worse. If you have to run multiple searches to find what you're looking for, that creates multiple chances to show you an ad:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/the-men-who-killed-google/

Ragahavan's nemesis was Ben Gomes, an OG googler who'd overseen the creation of the company's server infrastructure and had been crowned the head of search. Gomes hated Ragahavan's idea, and in the memos, we get a blow-by-blow account of the epic fight inside Google between the enshittifiers and the anti-enshittification resistance, who are ultimately trounced, which is how we get today's sloppified, ad-poisoned, spam-centric Google search.

Ragahavan and his clique are obviously greedy monsters, but that's not the whole story. The real question is, how did we get to the point where Google, a company justly famed for its emphasis on search quality, abandoned its commitment to excellence? That's the question we explore in the next two episodes.

Episode two is "Ctrl-ctrl-ctrl," and it reveals the original sin of tech, the origin of the worst tech policies in the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/13/ctrl-ctrl-ctrl/#free-dmitry

This is the tale of another epic struggle inside another giant institution, only this struggle takes place in government, not Google. We travel back to the Clinton years, when Vice President Al Gore was put in charge of demilitarizing the internet and transforming it into a service that welcomed the public, as well as private firms. Gore's rival in this project was Clinton's copyright czar, the white shoe entertainment lawyer Bruce Lehman.

Lehman wanted Gore to install an "anti-circumvention" policy on the new internet: under Lehman's proposal, copyright law would be rewritten to ban modifying ("circumventing") digital products, services and devices, whether or not those modifications led to anyone's copyrights being violated. Anti-circumvention would let dominant companies conscript the government to punish upstart rivals and tinkerers who dared to improve their products, say, by blocking commercial surveillance, or by turning off checks that blocked generic parts and consumables or independent repair, or by making existing products more accessible to people with disabilities.

Experts like Pam Samuelson hated this proposal and made a huge stink about it. This led to Gore categorically rejecting Lehman's ideas, so Lehman (in his own words) did "an end-run around Congress" and got the UN's World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) to turn "anti-circumvention" into an international treaty obligation. Then he went back to Congress and got them to pass an anti-circumvention law, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA), that went even further than the WIPO treaties demanded.

Almost instantly, the direst predictions of Lehman's opponents came true. A Russian computer scientist named Dmitry Skylarov was arrested by the FBI for giving a technical conference presentation about the weaknesses in Adobe's ebook software, in which he explained how these allowed Adobe customers to do legal things, like transferring their ebooks to a new computer (Adobe's software blocked this).

The chilling effect of DMCA 1201 was deep and far-reaching. It created (in the words of Jay Freeman), a new "felony contempt of business model" system, in which a business could threaten to imprison anyone who tried to disenshittify their products, for example, by making it possible for hospitals to maintain their ventilators without paying a med-tech giant for overpriced, slow service:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland/

Anticircumvention law lets John Deere stop farmers from fixing their own tractors. It stops independent mechanics from fixing your car. It stops you from using cheap third-party inkjet cartridges. It's why Patreon performers lose 30 cents on every in-app subscription dollar, because only Apple can provide iPhone apps, and Apple uses that control to extract a 30% fee on in-app payments. It's why you can't stop apps from spying on you – and why Apple (which does block other companies apps from spying on you) can track every click, message and movement you make in order to target ads to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Anticircumvention let the garage-door opener company that bought every one of its rivals block integration with standard home automation tools, forcing you to use an app that makes you look at ads before you can open your garage-door:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Anticircumvention is why there's no such thing as a Tivo for streaming services, letting you record the programs you enjoy so you can watch them later (say, when Prime charges moves Christmas movies into the paid tier between October and January). It's why you can't get a scraper that lets you leave Facebook or Twitter for Mastodon or Bluesky, and continue to interact with your friends who are stuck on zuckermuskian legacy media:

https://www.eff.org/interoperablefacebook

It's why you can't get an alternative Instagram client that blocks spying, ads and "suggestions," just showing you the latest updates from the people you follow:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/9/29/23378541/the-og-app-instagram-clone-pulled-from-app-store

Of course, companies that abuse this government-granted weapon might still face consequences, if their behavior was so obnoxious that it drove us into the arms of their competitors. But for that to happen, we'd need to have meaningful competition, which brings me to episode three, "In God We Antitrust":

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/19/khan-thought/#they-were-warned

Episode three goes even farther back in time, to the early 1980s, when a racist pig and Nixon co-conspirator named Robert Bork led a successful counterrevolution that destroyed antitrust enforcement in the US, and then around the world. It's thanks to Bork – and his idea that monopolies are "efficient" – that we got what Tom Eastman calls an internet of "five giant websites filled with screenshots of the other four." It's why every sector in our economy is controlled by a cartel, a duopoly or a monopoly:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

If Bruce Lehman paved the way for Prabhakar Ragahavan's enshittification of Google, then Robert Bork laid the road that Bruce Lehman traveled to Geneva and the WIPO Internet Treaties. Industry consolidation always leads to regulatory capture, because a handful of gigantic companies can easily collude to present a disciplined message to its regulators and the fact that they don't compete with one another lets them steal so much from us that they have huge warchests they can use to get their policies enacted.

40 years of Bork's pro-monopoly policies has produced…monopolies. The reason a handful of powerful executives have more power than any of the world's governments – the reason the public is thwarted on everything from healthcare to climate, minimum wages to privacy – is that Robert Bork overturned generations of antitrust practice and created pro-oligarch policies that created a modern oligarchy.

The 2020s have seen an impressive and heartening global surge in antitrust activism, motivated by an urge to blunt or even shatter corporate power, bypassing apologetics about "efficiency" that can only be understood through mastering an esoteric mathematics whose own practitioners cheerfully describe as disconnected from any observable reality:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0039368122000693

This global, grassroots movement has provoked a massive backlash from our technofeudal overlords, culminating in the 2024 re-election of Donald Trump, which is where we open our the fourth and final episode of "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" Trump's inauguration stage featured some unusual attendees: the CEOs of the largest tech companies in America, who had personally donated a million bucks each to Trump's inauguration fund. These are some of the richest men in human history, and they were all in on Trump.

Trump lost no time in inflicting misery on the American people, illegally firing the agency personnel most closely associated with the antitrust movement and canceling many of their key policies. But for the rest of the world, the most prominent effect of Trumpism was the imposition of tariffs on every country in the world, including islands without any human inhabitants:

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/apr/03/donald-trump-tariffs-antarctica-uninhabited-heard-mcdonald-islands

The world is changing before our eyes, and it needn't change for the worse. As Trump transforms America into a hermit kingdom, countries around the world have a chance to consider what their policies might be like if they weren't organized around US priorities. That includes Canada.

Canada could retaliate against Trump's tariffs by legalizing and incubating Canadian companies that find ways to improve America's enshittified products, creating mods, plugins, alternative software and other tools that Canadians – and the world – would snap up. Every customer for these disenshittifying tools would constitute a targeted strike against technofeudalism, against Trumpism, against the companies whose CEOs sat behind Trump on the dais.

More: the Canadian companies that raided America's high-tech giants could use the sky-high rents they extracted through anti-circumvention laws as a kind of disposable rocket stage to boost a new Canadian tech sector into a stable orbit, giving Canada a global tech standing comparable to the power and wealth Finland enjoyed during the Nokia years.

That's something Canada could do, only it can't, because of a 13-year old anti-circumvention law that was crammed onto Canada's statute-books by two ministers in Stephen Harper's government, James Moore and Tony Clement:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/15/radical-extremists/#sex-pest

Harper charged Moore and Clement with getting an anticircumvention law because the US Trade Representative had made it clear that failing to do so would result in the US imposing tariffs on Canada. But Canadians hated the idea of this law. In 2004, a Liberal MP named Sam Bulte lost her Toronto seat after she attempted to ram an anticirumvention law through Parliament. The Tories tried to pass another anticircuvmention law in 2007, and faced so much pushback that the bill died.

Moore and Clement's tactic for defusing this opposition was to have a public consultation on anticircumvention law, to make it seem like the government was listening to the people. Boy, did that idea backfire: 6,138 Canadians wrote in to oppose the proposal. 54 supported it:

https://www.michaelgeist.ca/2010/04/copycon-final-numbers/

But Moore and Clement pressed on. Moore explained to an International Chamber of Commerce meeting in Toronto that he would be discarding nearly every consultation response he'd received, on the grounds that people who disagreed with him were a "babyish…radical extremists":

https://www.cbc.ca/news/science/copyright-debate-turns-ugly-1.898216

The most remarkable thing about Canada's 2012 adoption of anticircumvention law is that it came 14 years after the US passed the DMCA. We already had a thick record of the damage that law had done. We have all the evidence we needed to see how this US law had hurt everyday Americans. But Moore and Clement still tabled their bill, with language that was actually worse than the American law, dispensing with the largely ineffectual safeguards Congress had put in the 1998 DMCA.

More than a decade on, Canada's "digital locks" law has stalled the country's tech sector and left Canadians defenseless against American enshittification. Even the country's pioneering Right to Repair and interoperability laws, passed last year, can't undo this damage, because they only give Canadians the right to fix or improve things if they don't have to break a digital lock to do so, and everything has a digital lock these days, from ebikes to car parts.

Moore actually gave us a comment for the show, once again dismissing his critics by claiming there was no evidence that his law had created a chilling effect that stopped Canadians from making products and services that unrigged the game American big business forced us all to play. It's nice to see that Moore hasn't changed since his days of calling his detractors "babyish radical extremists." The very nature of "chilling effects" is that they can only be observed by looking at what didn't happen: Moore seems to interpret the fact that Canadians haven't shipped a privacy tool for phones, or an alternative app store for Xboxes, or a service that jailbreaks your car so any mechanic can fix it as evidence that Canadians wouldn't want these things (or that Canadian technologists are too stupid to deliver them).

Repealing Canada's anticircumvention laws would mark a turning point in tech regulation. For decades now, countries that are upset with tech companies' greed and cruelty have created policies that demand that Big Tech wield its extraordinary power more wisely. Think of content moderation laws, or laws that try to get tech companies to share some of their monopoly ripoff money with news outlets. These laws don't seek to take away power from tech giants – they just try to turn it to socially beneficial uses. This is a huge mistake. For a tech company to control its users' behavior, it must have power of those users, must observe every action they take and retain the ability to stop them. For a tech company to share its billions with news outlets, it must continue to make billions by ripping us all off:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-must-open-app-stores

The only tech regulation that will truly make us all better off is a regulation that shatters tech power – not one that seeks to harness it. That's what getting rid of anticircumvention would do: it would give us – internet users – the right to defend ourselves against exploitation, manipulation and abuse. It would let us decide how the devices, products and services we use work. It wouldn't just make it illegal for tech giants to use our technology to attack us – it would make it impossible for them to do so, because our technology would take orders from us, not them.

Repealing anticircumvention laws in Canada and around the world is the best path forward. Ironically, Donald Trump's "Liberation Day" has created the conditions for every country to liberate itself from America's grotesque tech policies – and to export our tools of technological liberation to our American friends, who were the first victims of US Big Tech.

I'm so pleased with how this show worked out. My collaborators – especially showrunner Acey Rowe and producer Matt Meuse – were stone brilliant as was our sound designer, Julian Uzielli. The whole team has done smashing work getting the word out about the show and making it sound smart and accessible. I couldn't have asked for a better group of colleagues to produce this show, and I couldn't be prouder of how it sounds.

You can subscribe to "Understood: Who Broke the Internet?" on any podcast app, even the enshittified ones, and you can get the RSS here:

https://www.cbc.ca/podcasting/includes/nakedemperor.xml

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/05/26/babyish-radical-extremists/#cancon

#pluralistic #cbc #podcasts #who broke the internet #james moore #tony clement #anticircumvention #canada #c-11 #dmca #dmca 1201 #trump tariffs #tariffs #trade #who-broke-the-internet.jpg

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missysverse · 7 months ago

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𝓦HAT I'VE SCRIPTED IN MY 𝓦AITING 𝓡OOM

Feel free to use for inspiration for yours - i'll try to update this post for more new ideas if anyone is interested.

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐒:

✯₊˚༄ PORTAL ROOM — Each portal represents a different desired reality, with the name of the DR displayed on the arch above the portal. For example, one portal might read "Supernatural DR." When I step through a portal, I will instantly shift to the corresponding DR

✯₊˚༄ STUDY ROOM — a room where I can literally study for school relating to my CR, I have unlimited rescources available to me: textbooks, flashcards, notes all done (anything else I need I can literally just instantly manifest it), comfortable seating, big speaker I can use to play whatever music I want. I have a virtual AI tutor who can provide me detailed explanations for my subjects, orffer practice questions, mock tests, and instant feedback. I have an option to activate 'group study mode' where it will summon whatever people I want to If I want help with studying/get bored.

✯₊˚༄ THERAPY ROOM — Therapy room with Hannibal Lecter (he is not a cannibal or bad person is ANY way y'all.) He will give me good life advice, shifting advice etc anything I need help with - he knows me and my lifes well (only because I tell him about it), he also gives me good inspiration for scripting. He will also teach me a lot about neuroscience, psychiatry, psychology etc.

✯₊˚༄ LOUNGE ROOM — Here is where I can watch unlimited shows/films I want even if they don't exist in my CR e.g films I'm in from my fame DR, or completely new shows, or new seasons of my favourite shows that don't exist. There is also spotify on there and its the same concept as above - there are also playlists that are specific for my DRs and my relationships. There is also a section where I can go on that can play unlimited edits of me from my DRs, people from my DRs. All the edits are really well made and good. There are normal edits but also transition edits too. There is also a custom edit section where I can basically describe the edit and what song and it will make the edit. Not only that but I can also replay certain moments from my DR on the TV, I just have to think about the moment and then it can play or there are complimation videos of different moments from my DR. I also have unlimited games, books, vinyls.

✯₊˚༄ KITCHEN — literally where I can find unlimited food, any food I want will instantly manifest in the fridge.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒

credits to someone from reddit for some of these ideas (I'll try to find the post)

✯₊˚༄ LIFAGRAM — instagram but for shifters to access multiversally, I can share pictures and videos from my DR on here and can see other shifters. You want to share a cute picture of you and your friends to other shifters? well you can.

✯₊˚༄ SHIFTING SPACE — I have access to videos and photos from my DR and it is stored on my ‘Shifting Space’ and also just any moments from your DR, you can also share edits of your DR and yourself on here with other people

✯₊˚༄ LIFATOK — basically a less toxic version of shiftok lmao (jkJk) but the same premise as LIFAtok but its short video where people mostly share edits or moments from there DR

✯₊˚༄ LIFAFLIX — other people’s and mine DRs as tv shows, you can also watch yourself in other siutations that don’t have to be your DR but other realities that you want to be in but you don’t want to shift e.g a reality where I am spiderman(??) so there's a film based on that scenario.

✯₊˚༄ LIFAFLIX — again like the other social medias, you can share longer videos of moments from your DR

✯₊˚༄ LIFATUNES — basically like Spotify but you can share your songs from your singer DR, you can also find whatever song you want there are basically unlimited songs e.g you can change the language of songs and change lyrics or any certain features of songs you don’t like

✯₊˚༄ LIFABOOK — basically an instant journal with unlimited pages where it will insantly write out enteries of my DR experiences, the dates, everything in detail which I can read back if I want to (although I can always just replay the memories on the big screen)

Last updated : 05/12/2024

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nosyp · 6 months ago

Text

Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 1 - Unwelcomed Guests

Warnings = Kidnapping, dark

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = You work as a barista for a cafe and Natasha and her friends would always visit. That was until one day, everything changed.

Word count = 2.6k words

A/N = First time attempting a series... pls be nice! Feedback is appreciated!!!

Last edited = 23 Dec 24

AO3 Link

Series masterlist

Read story 👇

Chapter 1 - The Unwelcomed Guests

Ring!

The sound of the bell ringing alerted you and you immediately rose to attend to the new customer.

“Uhm-! Hi! Welcome, what can I do for you?” you stammered, greeting the customer.

She didn’t respond and only stared at you, looking kind of taken aback but quickly composed herself and went back to examining the menu.

You watched as she trailed her fingers through the menu looking for something of interest. The silence between you two was suffocating but she didn’t seem to mind. The awkwardness only stretched longer as you tried to keep a smile on your face while waiting for her. This happened often with new customers, and you never got used to it.

‘Please say something, I’m dying here,’ you think to yourself, trying to keep yourself calm. Then you finally spoke up, “Ermm, we have a wide variety of flavours for our scones, so far the chocolate is the favorite amongst customers.”

Her gaze shifted to you and she perked an eyebrow. “Oh really?” she asks. “Well I’ll take that then,”

You let out a sigh of relief, ringing up her order and handing it to her with a forced smile, masking the tension that had been building from the awkward silence. Your eyes followed her beautiful red hair as she left.

Now that you think of it, her outfit was kind of odd. She was wearing a tight black suit from her neck down. But you couldn’t lie, her figure was amazing so she’s probably just flaunting it.

From that day, she’s visited daily, never missing a day. Sometimes she’d bring some of her friends while other times, she'd visit all alone. It was quite usual for customers to keep coming back but… this time felt weird. Most of the times when they’d return, you’d be glad to serve them but you dreaded whenever she came. Overtime, you learnt from her friends that her name was something along the lines of ‘Natalie’ or ‘Natasha’ or something like that

What made it even more concerning was the fact that sometimes she and some of her friends were covered in blood when they came in. You hadn’t dared to question it since their aura was quite intimidating already. The atmosphere shifted as soon as their foot stepped past the threshold. It could go from a calm and cozy atmosphere to an intense and heavy atmosphere, even the other customers felt it. They’d often ask you what was up with the group but all you could do was shrug in response.

The next few days felt the same. She came in every day, never saying much, always leaving you with that strange feeling of being watched. Sometimes she came alone, or other times she’d bring some of her friends. But no matter who she was with, there was always an intensity that followed her wherever she went, even into the small, cozy cafe.

Then, one night, the cafe was nearly empty. The wind outside howled, and the street lights flickered, casting odd shadows against the windows. You were cleaning up, getting ready to close when you heard the bell ring again. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the usual polite silence that followed her arrival. There was something heavier in the air.

You turned, and there she was again, but this time, she wasn’t alone. Standing next to her was a man in a dark suit, you recognized him from the many ads you saw. You swore his name was…. Something stark? Whatever. And beside him… you recognized the others from her usual group. Each one of them was standing too still, too perfectly, almost as if they were waiting for something.

The woman, Natasha, didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze locked onto you immediately, her eyes dark and unreadable. It felt like she was seeing right through you.

"Late night for you, huh?" she said casually, walking toward the counter. "We’re not here for scones tonight."

Your heart started racing, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to maintain some normalcy despite the heavy feeling that seemed to seep into the walls of the café. "We’re almost closing, actually–"

Before you could finish, the man in the suit stepped forward. You didn’t know his name, but his presence alone was scary, his eyes looked cold and… calculating. "Actually, I think you’ll want to stay open for a little longer."

Your hands trembled as you went to the counter. Their arrival felt weird, like it was a trap that could catch you at any moment.

"Hello, how can I help you today?" you finally managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Natasha smiled at you, her grin felt off though. "Actually," she said, voice lowering, "I think we can help you."

You felt your breath get stuck in your throat. Something wasn’t right. “E-excuse me? I’m not too sure what you mean by that…” you stammered, breath hitching.

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she rested her elbows on the counter. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, her tone dripping with fake concern, "don’t play dumb now. You’re smarter than that, aren’t you?"

The man behind her shifted, his hands crossed in front of his chest, eyes never leaving you. The others fanned out, moving with the kind of deliberate grace that sent chills down your spine. One of them was a tall blonde-haired woman with sharp features. She began looking through the shelves behind you.

“Holy, you’ve got a lot of nice stuff here,” she whispered underneath her breath.

‘Run, lock the doors, do anything, something.’ you screamed at yourself internally."I-I think you have the wrong person," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of the moment. You felt so small in their gazes.

Natasha tilted her head, her smile fading into something more sinister. "Wrong person?" she repeated, as if testing the words. Her eyes had a hint of something, something dangerous. "You’re kinda cute when you’re nervous, you know that?"

The tension was suffocating now. The tall man then got closer, his boots creating a heavy thud with every step. "We’re not here to hurt you," he said, though his tone was anything but comforting. "Not unless you give us a reason to."

Your legs felt like jelly as you tried to step back, your back bumping against the huge, muscular man behind you. “Hey darling,” he whispers, making you flinch away from him.

"I-I don’t understand. What do you want from me?" you ask.

Natasha straightened, her expression softening just slightly, though it felt more like a predator playing with its prey. "Relax," she said, her voice almost soothing now. "We’re just... interested in you. Let’s call it professional curiosity."

"Professional?" you repeated, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

She grinned, then opened her mouth again. "Something like that. You’ve caught our attention, and trust me, that’s not very common. But you..." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re special."

You felt your heart skip a beat as her words processed in your head. "I—I’m just a girl working at a cafe," you said desperately. "There’s NOTHING special about me."

Natasha chuckled softly at your reaction. "Oh, honey," she said, her gaze locking onto yours, "you have no idea, do you?"

Before you could respond, the lights flickered, as if it was planned. Shadows were casted around the room and disappeared back into the darkness. You saw the group behind her exchange glances. You couldn’t tell what they were saying or signalling but you knew it was nothing good.

Natasha’s smile faded entirely, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Close up," she said. From her tone, you could tell it was a demand that you couldn’t deny.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Lock the doors. Turn off the lights, do whatever you need to do. And then, we’ll have a little chat."

Every piece of your being screamed at you to say no, to run, to do anything but comply, but as her gaze bore into you which made you realise something chilling. You simply didn’t have a choice, all you could do was comply at this point.

Your fingers shuffled through the keys as you hesitated, glancing at Natasha and her group every once in a while. Each second felt like a long hour, so many pairs of eyes were on you. "I... I don’t understand," you murmured, your voice almost not clear enough.

Natasha tilted her head, her patience visibly wearing thin. "Lock. The. Door," she repeated, her words clipped but weirdly calm.

With trembling hands, you reached for the door, turning the lock with a click. The sound felt like a huge bell, reverberating through the silence of the cafe.

"Good," Natasha said, her smile returning. "Now, why don’t we all take a seat?"

She gestured toward one of the corner booths, but the invitation felt more like a command. You glanced at the clock on the wall, hoping for some sort of reprieve, but the hands seemed frozen, just like you.

The man in the dark suit’s voice suddenly broke the silence. "We can do this the easy way," he said with a slight threat in his words. "Or the hard way. Your choice."

“Why should I listen to you?” you spat out.

His eyes widened at your response. “You know you shouldn’t speak to us that way, we’re just here to save you,” he says.

Save you? What does he mean by that?

“Calm down Tony, let them go at their own pace.” Natasha says.

Reluctantly, you moved toward the booth, your legs shaky as Natasha slid in across from you. The rest of the group remained standing, their eyes trained on you like hawks circling prey.

Natasha then folded her hands on the table, and her body leaned in. "So," she began, her tone almost conversational, "you’ve been working here for, what, six months? A year?"

"Eight months," you replied. Why were they asking about your job?

She nodded thoughtfully. "Eight months. That’s long enough to notice things. Patterns. People." Her eyes gleamed, and you had the unsettling feeling that this wasn’t small talk.

"I don’t-" you tried to say.

"Save it," she interrupted, before she started again. "We’re not here to play games. Surprisingly… you’re actually in a position to help us. And… whether you like it or not, you’ve already seen too much."

"Excuse me? Seen too much?" your voice echoed, your confusion evident. "I don’t know what you’re talking about!" your voice rising.

A dark-skinned man then stepped out of the shadows. "You’ve noticed us. Every time we’ve come in. You’ve seen us covered in blood. You’ve heard the whispers from the other customers. Don’t pretend you haven’t."

Your stomach churned as the memories flashed through your mind. Their glances, the blood stains on their clothes, the silenced voices that stopped as soon as you came close. You’d written it off as strange but took it as strictly out of your business. Well that was… until now.

"I didn’t say anything," you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. "I didn’t tell anyone!"

The cold, suffocating atmosphere of the café became unbearable. The group’s all had their gazes locked onto you, and gosh it was scary.

“I-I need to grab something from the back,” you stammered, your finger pointing towards the kitchen. Natasha’s eyes followed your finger, then went back to you.

“Go ahead,” she said with a smirk, leaning back in the booth. “But don’t keep us waiting too long, sweetheart.”

Her voice was full with mockery, but you forced a smile. You nodded as you backed away and disappeared through the swinging door into the back. Your heart pounded like a drum in your ears, drowning out everything else.

You couldn’t stay. You can’t let them do this. Could you?

All of a sudden, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed your coat and bag from the staff locker, stuffing your trembling hands into the pockets. Your fingers brushed against your phone. You hurriedly pulled it out to call for help.

But… when you turned it on, the signal was gone. Of course, after all these people are probably well trained criminals. They must’ve jammed the single somehow. A pit formed in your stomach, but you pushed forward. There had to be another way.

Your eyes darted to the back door. You still had the keys after all. If somehow you could just slip out quietly, maybe they wouldn’t even realize and you could just escape. BINGO! You’re a genius. Well you thought.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a low voice rumbled behind you, pausing all your thoughts of escaping.

You turned around to find one of Natasha’s friends, ‘Steve’ or something, you totally forgot his name but he was blonde, and tall. If you weren’t wrong you swore you saw two of them like that.

His huge frame was leaning in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed and a disgusting smirk plastered on his face. He was blocking your only exit back to the main room.

“J-just grabbing something,” you lied through your teeth, voice filled with fear.

He tilted his head, watching you in amusement. “Sure you are. And… you should know, she doesn’t like liars. And you shouldn’t test her.”

He took a step forward, and you took a step back. You didn’t even think about it. Your feet just moved, and you found yourself sprinting towards the back door as fast as you could.

The cold outside air hit your face as soon as you shoved the door open, the alley behind the cafe called out to you. For a split second, you felt a rush of relief, as if you actually could escape.

Then, you suddenly felt a grip on your arm. The grip got more intense as you tried to pry it off, slightly scraping him with your fingernails.

You screamed, and instinctively started squirming and kicking him. You tried to hit as hard as you could, but the grip was too strong. What is wrong with him? There’s no way he’s human.

Your mind raced as you saw the blondie had caught up to you in an instant. His strength was overwhelming as he forced you back into the café.

“You’re feisty,” he muttered, almost amused. “But we can’t have you running off.”

“Let me go!” you cried, struggling uselessly against his grip.

By the time he dragged you back through the café, Natasha and the others were waiting by the front door. She sighed dramatically when she saw you, shaking her head as if disappointed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” her voice interrupting the silence. “I was really hoping you’d cooperate, darling. But I guess things don’t always go our way.”

“Please,” you begged as tears streamed down your face while the tall man pushed you to your knees. “I don’t know anything! Just let me go!”

Natasha crouched down, her hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you were forced to meet her eyes. You could swear they were the eyes of the devil.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said, her voice soft but menacing. “Not until we’re done with you.”

Then you blacked out. Consciousness leaving your being.

#dark avengers #yandere avengers #avengers x reader #the avengers #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #dark marvel #yandere marvel #x reader #dark natasha romanoff #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark james rhodes #dark tony stark #dark thor #some other tags im too lazy to put

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 9 months ago

Text

nymph. [part 1] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary: you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you

Warnings: fluff, some nudity, battle flashbacks, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: quick shot. two part story. smut - definitely in the second part. I had a lot of pleasure writing this. I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

"So this is the place you chose for your solitary travels... I wondered where you've been disappearing lately."

A shiver ran down your arms at the sound of a slightly amused and familiar voice. You quickly stood up from the bed and curtsied, lowering your gaze.

"My lady." You said quietly. "Please don't be angry with me. I didn't think you'd notice my absence."

"I see many things, my dear. But no, I'm not angry." She replied, you raised your gaze and looked into the beautiful and wise face of Minerva. The armor she was wearing gleamed gold, reflecting the trembling flames of the candles, and although she was leaning on a spear, the head of which looked menacing, her face was gentle and a bit pensive. "I'm rather intrigued by your choice. General Acacius, I didn't think he was the one stealing you from me."

You felt the warmth that crept up your neck and cheeks, you looked down again, and Minerva laughed quietly.

"I'm glad." she added after a moment. "He's one of my favorites. He has all the features I like so much. Although, he's still a mortal."

Your gaze wandered to the man sleeping in the bed. A white sheet wrapped around his hips, he slept on his stomach, and the strong muscles of his back were outlined under his sun-kissed skin.

Dark, tousled hair, soft stubble on his face, and those plush lips, the General looked almost like one of the statues you saw in your lady's temples. This was how ordinary people imagined gods, and you, spending time with them, saw their features in this mortal. A delicate smile crept onto your lips.

"I like watching him." you said quietly "When he sleeps, when he plans the strategy for the next battle or when he just sits alone and simply thinks. Never before have any of them drawn me to them so much."

The goddess looked at you, clearly intrigued. "Never?" she repeated "You lived long before him and you will live long after his body turns to dust. So why him?"

You didn't know the answer to that question. And you had long since stopped asking yourself.

It was the sounds of joy at the victory that caught your attention and drew you to the place where you first saw General Marcus Acacius. Since you were a nymph of the goddess Minerva, ordinary mortals couldn't see you like that, so you easily made your way between the crowded soldiers and stood near the General.

The rays of the sun reflected off the golden face of Medusa on his chest, and his face, although covered in battle dust and the blood of his opponent, glowed in the glory of victory. Your heart beat faster in your chest and you knew you wouldn't leave him again.

At first it was curiosity, just like the one children have inside them. You followed him, listened to his low and melodic voice, noticed how he sounded when he gave orders and how he talked to others. You learned the names of his direct subordinates, learned his customs, spent hours in the tent with his commanders listening to their discussions about strategy and the art of war.

You were like the wind that followed him wherever he went, but you also had to remember your duties. Then you returned to your mistress, the goddess Minerva, having previously thoroughly cleaned your hands and feet of the camp dust. You didn't think she saw all of this.

"I feel that this is my place, my lady." you spoke after a long moment of thought "I don't know why... Is it normal? Or right? I've heard people talk about fate, but I'm not one of them so I don't know if it applies to me too. My lady?"

You looked pleadingly at Minerva's wise face. You didn't know anyone else who could answer that question. However, she was staring at you with almost motherly tenderness and soon your name flowed from her lips like a sonorous melody.

"You know that he will die someday." she said, "People are mortal. They have their weaknesses, their bodies age. You have observed it for so many centuries, and despite everything you have become attached to one of them. It really surprises me, but I look at it with great pleasure."

You smiled at her, your eyes once again turning towards the sleeping man. "Can this be called love? Is this what people talk about and desire?"

"You have to see for yourself, my dear."

It was another night when he saw her face again. He almost got used to her presence, although he never really saw her for real. Or maybe?

Marcus remembered exactly that one moment when he had the impression that he saw her face in reality, because until then she had visited him only in dreams.

It was a cruel battle. The soldiers fought hard and fiercely. Hundreds of the fallen were lying on the ground, and shattered shields and swords were lying around them, useless for anything.

He was dazed, he could still hear the pounding of his heart in his ears, his lungs were still fighting for every breath, but when he looked up he saw her.

She was standing in the middle of it all, not very clear as if she was a remnant of fog. The rays breaking through the thick clouds illuminated her silhouette. He saw sadness and fear on her face as her eyes moved from one dead face to another. And then she looked straight at him, her lips moving as if she whispered his name. He wanted to say something, run to her even though his body was sore, but then he heard the terrifying shriek of crows, he blinked, and she disappeared.

Marcus rinsed his face with cold water and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He felt tired. He would rather fall back into a dream in which this wonderful woman accompanied him, than put on armor and go to a military review.

He felt tired of the constant war he was fighting. The Roman Empire was growing every day. More and more space, more and more people to feed. Meanwhile, the Emperor sat in Rome and reveled in the next ships and carts full of treasures that his generals sent to him. This was not how it should be.

"You carry so much on your shoulders, Marcus. Too much for one man."

You sat on his bed, looking at him with sympathy. You liked talking to Marcus, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. Over this long time, you got to know him so well that you were able to recognize what was bothering him. And lately, many things were turning in his head.

You bit your lip as you allowed yourself to admire his naked body. He was strong, well-built. With broad shoulders, a strong back and long legs. You saw that charming happy trail that led straight to his impressive manhood. Even as a nymph you could feel desire, and you certainly did, looking shamelessly at this man.

As soon as Marcus pulled on his tunic, one of the messengers entered the tent.

"General." he said, bowing his head. "A message from Rome. The Emperor orders you to return. He will welcome you to the city with all the honors befitting a victor."

Acacius took the sealed message from the man's hand and signaled him to leave. Rome seemed so distant to him. However, after so long, it was good to return to civilization again. Although he loved the army, its order and rules, he missed his bed and home. A home that was just walls, because years of war and wandering didn't give him the opportunity to create something more there.

You went up to him and rested your head on his shoulder to read the message brought by the messenger.

"Rome! It's exciting." You said with joy. "There will be triumphal processions and the sound of trumpets. Rose petals falling on you from the sky like rain from the clouds... You, people, love such splendor."

Your hand slowly slid his arm. You felt his skin under your fingers, the small bumps that were traces of the wounds he had sustained. But his warmth was what you liked the most. You could feel it, but you couldn't give it to him.

When he put on the armor, your fingers playfully moved over each element. You liked Medusa's golden face the most, you always felt sympathy and compassion for her. When the sword hung at his side, you moved away, then followed him like an obedient servant.

People always amused you a little. They didn't see you, nymphs, although sometimes they managed to catch your faint reflection. Then they told stories about your beauty and tempting shapes. You knew many stories, good and bad, about what happened to you, and even more of them were unknown to ordinary people.

You had the impression that Marcus had experienced it once. You were a little careless then. Death and destruction made your heart ache, it was enough for his eyes to capture your image. That was the first time you felt his gaze on you, for real. He wasn't looking through you, he wasn't looking over you, but at you. That scared you and you didn't come to see him for the next few days.

"General, the troops are ready for review." reported some captain whose name you couldn't remember.

"I got information today that we are going back to Rome." Marcus said as they walked together along the first row of men. "That's good, people should rest."

"And you will once again receive the honors worthy of a hero of the Empire." the captain smiled. "I even sympathize with you, these meetings in the Emperor's palace must be tiring."

"Sometimes I think that being here is less bothersome than there, Aurelius." Marcus sighed and rubbed his furrowed brows with his hand.

"Did you sleep badly?"

"I don't think so. Only one dream has been bothering me for weeks."

Aurelius looked at his friend carefully. "A good dream, I hope? Full of wine, music and beautiful women, eh?"

Marucs stifled a laugh. "Of course, my friend."

He was lying. You both knew it. For weeks, you had been a guest in his dreams, only the places changed.

A meadow full of flowers, where a warm wind flowed calmly. Or the seashore, in the abyss of which the sun disappeared, leaving a blood-red hue in the sky. Sometimes it was a bed, but different from the one he fell asleep in.

And you? You were beautiful. Sometimes dressed in a loose toga, sometimes naked. But you always gazed at him with love, whispered tender words, told stories that he thought he had heard before. Maybe when he was a child...

There were nights when he felt your lips on his neck and chest, or your fingers moving through his hair. Then he woke up hard, feeling as if just a moment ago your hand had really caressed him.

He didn't want to tell anyone that he felt watched, because he didn't know how to explain it. However, this feeling was with him almost all the time. Or when he was still half asleep and had the impression that he felt the shadow of a body lying next to him. Was he starting to go crazy?

You spent another day with him. The tent Marcus occupied felt almost like home to you. You sat on the edge of his bathtub as he took a bath, shamelessly watching his naked body glisten in the candlelight.

"I want to see you... Once again..."

His quiet voice tore you from your reverie. You looked at his face. His eyes were closed. You could see the wrinkles around his eyes perfectly, his neck that was perfect for showering with kisses, his arms were spread out on the edges of the bathtub, and his lips moved again.

"I know you're here with me... I can't see you, but I can feel you."

You leaned over him. Your lips were a few inches apart. You could clearly see his long eyelashes, you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I would give everything for one tender look from you..."

You parted your lips slightly and brushed his. It wasn't even a kiss, just a brush. Less than an accidental touch. But Marcus sighed as if his prayers had been answered.

"I guess I should feel embarrassed catching you in such a situation."

A quiet squeal reached your ears. You turned around and put your finger to your lips, but you smiled.

"Shush! He's sleeping." You said reproachfully to the young girl standing in the dark corner of the tent.

She silently approached the bed and leaned over the General with curiosity as if he was some really interesting phenomenon. You sat astride Marcus' hips and for a few hours you had been staring at his sleeping face. He dreamed about you, about both of you. It was a good dream, you were watching over it. You wanted him to rest, so that he wouldn't worry about anything else.

"My Cyrus was younger than him." She stated after thinking for a while.

"And he was a shepherd of sheep!" you laughed, "He's a general."

"Both equally mortal."

Her words momentarily extinguished your smile. It was true. Death was equal for everyone.

"What are you doing here?" you asked to forget for a moment about the separation that awaited you someday. "I thought you didn't like military camps."

"Our lady sent me to you." your friend and sister in one smiled, her eyes sparkling. "But before I tell you her words, tell me, do you really love him?"

You looked again at Marcus' sleeping face. You knew this map by heart. Every gesture, grimace, look. You knew him.

"I've never known love before." you answered truthfully. "But I know I'd like to be able to feel it, you know. Once, for a few moments, he looked into my eyes. It was less than one breath, but I felt like never before... I would give anything to be able to feel it again."

A delicate hand rested on your shoulder. "You've been visiting his thoughts for so long that his heart is directed only towards you. Our lady sees that, and she's the wisest of us all."

"She must be laughing at me, right? Such simple desires and..."

"Don't say that." she interrupted you quickly. "Our lady never does such things. She loves you and Marcus. You both have a special place in her heart."

Your eyes filled with tears. "Thank you." you whispered quietly. "What message do you have for me, love?"

Your friend's face brightened and then she came closer to your ear. She whispered quietly, but you understood every word perfectly.

"Our lady asks you to live. She wants you to truly live. To feel. To love. To desire. To be seen. Our lady will fulfill your request, sister. Let immortality leave you, leave the body of a nymph and become one of the mortals. Fulfill your destiny."

For a moment you lost your breath, and a strange and disturbing shiver ran through your entire body. You felt a coldness you had never felt before. You saw the face of your dearest sister before you, but it was different, like a cloud of very thick fog.

"We will create myths and sing songs about your love." she said smiling "And when I’m next to you, you will feel me.”

Her lips brushed your temple, and warm tears ran down your cheeks as you closed your eyelids. When you opened them, she was no longer next to you.

For a moment, you tried to understand what had happened. You felt your senses overloaded, everything around you suddenly sharpened and darkened.

And then you felt it. Warm and strong hands tightened tenderly on your thighs, squeezing them gently. A familiar voice rang in your ears like never before.

"You're here... I can finally see you."

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[PART 2]

taglist: @ashleyfilm

#pedro pascal #general marcus acacius x fem!reader #general acacius x reader #general marcus acacius #general acacius #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #joel miller

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