#then take a step back and edit for flow

[joyridingmp3]

at this point this fic is writing itself.

[thepradapariah]

Mars ☄️ and Your Sexxx Language 🐱💋✨

QUICK MESSAGE TO THE BADDIES

HELLO!!!! To all of my sweet, sweet Kosmic Baddies, Oh!! How I’ve missed you!

I cannot believe it’s been over a FRIGGIN year, but GOODNESS….believe me, when I say this past year has been a roller coaster for me, I truly mean it. I can only imagine what’s been going on in your lives as well. Just TOO MUCH!!!1111!!!!!111!!!!!1 But welcome to 2024! A universal 8 year and the year of the Dragon!!! WE IN THIS THANNNNGGG!!!! Hard work, discipline and accountability is the theme, and we can’t lose!!!!!

Believe it or not, I actually STARTED writing this to have to you for Halloween, but ummmm….this is looking like a Valentine’s Day post instead! HA!!!! Blame it on my Saturn in Pisces– my relationship to time is….non existent. But, I think this timing is better anyways. The theme is very fitting so we are going to turn apples into oranges.

***Even funnier update, now it’s past Valentine’s Day….GOODNESS!!! This has been the longest it’s taken me to write anything. Like…INSANE. Almost 6 months I’ve been steadily working on this!

Thank you to those who have continued to support me! Thank you to those who have continued to share and interact with my post through my…let’s say, hiatus! I am planning to put more energy and effort into this blog post. I LOVE writing for y’all, it is really one of my favorite things in the world.

I am going to take a moment to apologize in advance and say, the typos are probably going to be real with this one. Because I’ve been working on it for so long, I’m just ready to get it out, so it won’t be my cleanest work. I will probably be updating and editing, so bare with me!

🕯 INTRODUCTION 🕯

Sooooo….where to start? I wanted to do something fun and interesting this go round because I missed y’all so much, but I also wanted to do something light so I could get back into the rhythm of writing again….aaaaaaaaaand I thought you would enjoy something a little smexiiiii as we move into cuddle buddy season. So, in this post, we are going to talk about Mars and Your Sexxx language.

One day, as I was driving around town, it dawned on me that we always talk about Love Languages (check out my Mercury post if you haven’t already) and we never talk about sex languages. And y’all know me, and if you don’t know, you’ll soon find out, I am a Bharani moon (atmakaraka at that); and the blending between Mars and Venus is my soul’s most valuable asset to share with the world…(Did I mention my moon is the 11th House?) Sex is one of the most taboo topics (in Western puritan culture, at least), yet such a powerful resource in our human tool box and it’s ridiculously important in our relationships. The 7th House is followed by the 8th House for a reason. Intimacy, of course not always sexual, is what leads to self-discovery, the 9th House. So we cannot overlook the important step that is sexual relations. Even the word “orgasm” means “little death” and death baby, is as close as you get to God. (See how those houses flow together so well?) Hence why things such as Tantra are a sexual AND religious experience all in one. Don’t be fooled by western/christian ideals into thinking that sex is unholy or ungodly. If you think Jesus was a virgin, think again. I mean, what’s the point of turning water into wine if you’re just going to roll over and go to sleep? Y’know what I mean?

Don’t worry! If you’re a less experienced reader, and haven’t engaged in aaaaallll thhhaattt… this post is still for you! In fact, this is one of the reasons I love astrology so much, because hopefully this post will give you some context about yourself and what your SOUL craves, not just your body, so when you do start “doing the do” you can be spiritually comfortable with your wants and desires instead of ashamed or even afraid of them.

Not to put all my business on the street…but, hey, I love y’all, so I won’t keep too many secrets from you (mercury in the 8th, HA)…but, I had to do quite a bit of bumping and grinding to discover what my soul needs in an intimate relationship and I wish there was more of “guide” for me on that journey! So HERE…I’m giving it to you!

WHAT IS A SEX LANGUAGE? 😈

To be completely honest, a “sex language” isn’t something as defined as a love language, so please, bear with me as we discover this together. Please feel free to share any experiences or insight with me. Although I may not always respond, I TRULY appreciate you taking the time to share with me. I try to read everything that I can!

I’m defining sex language as how one creates and shares intimacy in their close relationships. This is particularly expressed through physical interactions and outward expressions. Mars is a planet that governs our passions, drives and desires, meaning our sex language is guided by what we deeply want and crave from our partners on a spiritual level. Venus represents more of the external notions that we have for love and relationships, while Mars represents our internal needs from love and relationships. Mars is inherently a more personal and “self-centered” planet, so interestingly enough, your sex language is all about you! I go as far to say, when you find a partner, don’t forget to check your Mars compatibility as well. If you have extremely incompatible Mars signs, you will have to do a lot more work in the relationship to overcome the constant friction. Moreover, if you have more compatible Mars signs, then WOOOO BABY, the sexual tension could be off the charts!

✨ ABOUT MARS ✨

Mars placements won’t make or break a relationship, per say, but it is a very important layer to help maintain a relationship. How many of you have heard of sexless marriages and people being unsatisfied in their relationships in a sexual way? Does that mean the couples always break-up because of the lack of sex or chemistry? No…..But does it help a HECK OF A LOT when you are wildly attracted to your partner? YES! (Of course this isn’t always a good thing…but for the sake of this post, we are only talking about rainbows and sunshine.) Just keep this in mind as you start to use this knowledge in your journey. Mars is a really important planet that is easy to overlook because it’s not in the Big Three! (Yet, it iiissss the natural ruler of the 1st House).

WHY IT ALL MATTERS 🌚

I truly believe there is a shift in the collective and many couples are going to be coming into union over the course of the next year or so. Why? Because Ketu is FINALLY transitioning out of Libra and entering Virgo. If you’ve noticed, we’ve seen quite a bit of celebrity break-ups and covid relationships coming to a screeching halt. Hence why I say, if you’ve been single, or haven’t been in a serious connection in the last few years or even ever, now is the time that your next partner might be going through some significant ending with an ex. Union is on the horizon for a lot of souls who have been doing theeee spiritual work. That’s why I couldn’t think of a better topic to get started to set the mooooooooood. Bow-chicka-wow-wow.

So without further ado, let’s get into the nitty gritty. I’m going to do something different and start with Mars in Pisces/12th House and work backwards to Mars in Aries/1st House! I thought “Hey! Why not switch it up a bit? Pisces shouldn’t be forced to scroll ALL the time!”

***Note: If you’re feeling extra spicy, you can read for whatever sign is in your 1st House and 8th House as well because those are traditionally Mars ruled Houses. And you can read for your 12H, because the 12H is also the house of bedroom pleasures! Always keep in mind that we are complex creatures and astrology is like a puzzle, so it’s okay for some things to resonate and other things to not. Learn as many perspectives as possible so you can define yourself!

With Love & Lust,

Enjoy!

A-D 💋

Mars in Pisces/Mars in the 12th House

“Cut me like a rose, turn me like a beast” Only- Ry X

If your natal Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you may actually have a hard time knowing what your desires are. Why? Because Mars can feel as if it’s drowning in the deep spiritual waters of Pisces. Your wants can be quite dreamy. You crave a sexual experience that transcends space and time, forcing you to leave your body and touch God himself in ecstasy. (I’m a western Mars in Pisces, so…I get it). When it comes to your sex language, you want your partner to just get “you”. You don’t want to have to explain or talk or direct, you’d rather just receive and give a special type of unconditional love that knows no bounds. Because of this “boundless love”, you may actually, literally, lack boundaries. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, so we are going to focus on the positive. You are truly accepting of those who are accepting of you. Because Pisces is a mutable sign, you are willing to fit into whatever box your partner wants to put you in…and you receive great pleasure from making a deep seeded fantasy of your partner come true. You could be just as playful and imaginative when it comes to role-playing as a Gemini.

Because Mars is in Pisces or the 12H, you’ll find that a lot of partners will project their wishes and dreams onto you. Hence why you want a love that is really deep, because people can get washed away in the shallow end of your energy without ever fully realizing how deep your waters flow. This can be frustrating. And because Mars isn’t the most comfortable here, you can have some unhealthy ways of expressing your sexual frustration. Particularly if your Mars is in the 12H, you can be attracted to self-gratification through self-pleasure and also self-harm. You may even conflate the two, harm & pleasure, and have a dark side to your sexual fantasies. Your passions and desires can end up being repressed because people may not understand them, or be able to meet your high expectations. Amd babes, I love you, but just know, your expectations out of partnership are OTHERWORLDLY. But no worries!! You are SUPER DUPER freaky and almost a guaranteed partner that will go down in history books, particularly after you get comfortable in your own sensuality.

One of the things to watch out for with this Mars, is you can be passive-aggressive in the bedroom. You can take a more passive role, expecting and energetically demanding that your partner take the lead. You may not realize you even give off this energy, but the internal need that you have to dissolve into your partner, like sugar into water, can be very intense. And the gag is, sugar doesn’t really fully dissolve, so what you’re seeking can be impossible to satisfy on the earthly plane. Because of this, it is IMPERATIVE for you to have spiritual outlets within your sexual connections. It may be that you and your partner practice Tantra, or you simply pray together. With this Mars, you can absolutely use sex as a tool for manifestation. Watch your thoughts during sex, because you truly can create MAGIK!

Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th House

“I believe in aliens, I don’t believe in love” Familiarity by Teezo Touchdown

If your natal Mars is in Aquarius or the 11th House, you are something special. Why? Because out of all the signs, you are the most unique lover. I KNOW!!! How friggin’ cliche, Aquarius=Unique, blah blah blah…boring. YES! It’s said all the time, but it’s the truth. In Vedic Astrology, it is important to note that Aquarius is ruled by Saturn and Rahu. This is hugely impactful as to why you are unlike anyone else. Even as you read this, you won’t be exactly like the next person reading this, because the Saturn Rahu combination can be influenced by so many different factors. Aquarians are the hardest sign to write for in general, simply because you are going to be very individualist when it comes to how you express yourself. Now, all that being said, you still crave, very deeply, a sense of belonging. So please, don’t ever take for granted how special you are. If someone is lucky enough to break through your hard exterior, they really are in for an extraterrestrial experience!

Because Mars is in an air sign here, you may or may not be the most sensual and/or sexual person on the planet. You could be. But you could not be. And that is the gift…or curse…of this Mars placement. I have Mars in Aquarius myself, and I remember reading an article that said “this placement can be infuriating to your partner because you are so nonchalant.” And I can definitely say I’ve lost relationships because the other party assumed I was disinterested because I wasn’t the most expressive when it came to my emotions. It’s important to remember that Mars in Aquarius/11H is actually a neutral placement. It isn’t a death sentence or the worst thing on the planet, but it’s not necessarily the best. So don’t be too hard on yourself if your partners don’t understand you very easily. You will just have to do more work to learn how to communicate and accommodate in your relationships. This may be something that follows you throughout life…and forget your partner….it could be infuriating to you! BUT NO WORRIES! Mars in Aquarius or Mars in the 11th house is usually more concerned with developing and nurturing friendships, which seems to contradict the more lustful side of Mars. Longing for friendship and connection versus longing for sensual pleasure and connection can be seen as two different things.

What Mars in Aquarius/11H wants more than anything is L. O. Y. A. L. T. Y. Because this Mars placement can grant so much freedom, it is imperative for the person with this placement to feel safe and secure in the sexual relationship they are building. This is NOT to be confused with possession. Expecting loyalty from a partner isn’t the same as feeling as if you own your partner. You believe that your partner should have freedom to express and live their life the way they want to, and you expect the same in return. However, you do expect your partner to consider you when they make their decisions in life. It is very much “give a dog a bone, leave a dog alone, let a dog roam and he’ll find his way home” (S/o DMX, may he rest in peace). Meaning, in your sexual language, you want your space and privacy, but you want to feel a belonging no matter how far away you are from your partners.

NOW, for the fun stuff. You are one of the most explorative lovers on the planet. You may have a “the more the merrier” type attitude and be interested in group smexii time or oragies. You may have a dream to experience Amsterdam and the Red Light District. The beauty in having your Mars in an air sign/house is that you can remain detached from the sexual experience and partner– therefore, you may not experience jealousy because you aren’t super possessive. Again, you’re all about freedom baby!!! You may also have some pretty “far-out” kinks. You may be interested in different genders, or same gender, or mix gender or no gender or latex or pantyhoes or dress up or furries or hentai or tentacle porn….and if you’re not into it, chances are you will at least click a questionable link or two. You don’t carry the same shame as others do when it comes to what turns you on sexually. You don’t like anything boring or too routine, so your search history could be a bit…odd….BUT HEY!!! As long as it’s not hurting anyone or anything and pleasure is being derived from all parties involved, then let adults do what adults do is kind of your attitude.

Friendship is the key to your heart…and to your…uh…biological box….lol. When it comes to long-term relationships, I can bet my bottom dollar that you’re far more interested in the friendship aspects than the inherent relationship drama. When your friends ask “why are you still dealing with them”, you will follow up with “well, we are friends before anything else.” And you mean that deeply. The really funny thing is…on the other hand, you are also very likely to get down with complete strangers and never think about it again. You can hook-up and detach with the best of them, or your loyalty to a confidant can keep you in a relationship for a very long time…it. Just. depends.

The one thing that is true about your sex language, is that you speak ALL different kinds. When you look back at your life and your experiences, if you are more of an adventurous Aquarian, lets say you have a lot of air and fire in your chart, you will most likely have all kinds of stories from all different people and places. You will be one of the most interesting partners and friends to talk to about all the mixed bags of experiences that you’ve had..which is awesome. If your Mars in Aquarius/11H is paired with a more “earthy” sign or even water, you will most likely have a rom-com type love thing happening…that tugging “will they/won’t they” energy at the beginning of relationships, only to fall head over heals with the “guy/gal next door”. You may also find your sexual partners online, in a group setting or be hooked up by natural friends. “How’d you meet?” “Oh, I heard from a friend of a friend that that d*ck is a ten out of ten!”

Mars in Capricorn or Mars in the 10th House

“My vicious love, My lethal heart, I wanna screw you up into me” - Bad Bad Bad by Ramsey

If your natal Mars is in Capricorn or in the 10th House, then your sexual language is money, money…and….uh….more money. I kid, I kid…but not really. It would be easy and predictable for me to say you just lust after money, but it goes much deeper than that. Believe it or not, Mars is actually exalt in Capricorn, so, you couldn’t have a better Mars placement. Your natural ruler Saturn and Mars truly are the best of friends. And if you’re familiar with Tarot, then you know The Devil represents Capricorn energy and The Devil is all about seduction and temptation. Unlike some of the more dreamy Mars placements like Pisces/12H or Cancer 4H that use their sexual language as an escape from reality, or the detached air placements like Gemini/3H or Aquarius/11H, who are too aloof to harness Mars’ energy, YOU my Capricorn/10H individuals are acutely aware of how powerful the nature of sex can be…and most importantly, how it can be used to your advantage.

To the average person on the street, you may not seem like the super sexual type. You prefer a sophisticated lover to a “cute” one, so people can assume that your standards are too high. And perhaps, your standards are high, because you understand the value of your presence and your time. In fact, you HATE wasting time, so why would you waste time on lovers who don’t bring anything to the table? Sadly, for most of the public, they won’t ever have the experience to be with a Capricorn/10H Mars because quite frankly, they can’t afford it.

Funnily enough, I’m sure as you’ve been reading this, you’re like “dang…am I that shallow?” And the answer is yes and no. You’re shallow because we live in a shallow world– and you know in order to survive it, you have to use what you got to get what you want. The other side of this is, you’re not shallow at all because you are willing to work and discipline yourself and sacrifice for those that you truly care about. There is such a depth to you in the long run, that it makes sense that you make it really difficult for people to get to you. Because you know and I know, once you’ve committed to someone, you’ve committed for as long as you possibly can. Your sexual language is all about stamina and endurance. This is true in and and out of the bedroom. As an earth sign/house, you are a sensual being. You enjoy each and every bit of romance that you can get. A nice meal, some good perfume, dressed to the nines is all considered foreplay to you. You entice your partners with a certain dignified class and only the brave will approach. In your younger years, you could find this extremely frustrating at times because men will really have to get their sh*t together before they can even THINK to approach you on that level. But the more that you use your Mars to get you where you want to be in life, partners will follow behind you and constantly buzz around as if you are the Queen Bee and they are mere workers for your attention.

Funnily enough, you are quite the heart-breaker with this Mars placement. Because you are so focused on your goals outside of love, and yet, you can crave sensual pleasures, you will be very direct with a partner, but they may not be aware of how serious you take yourself. How can this manifest? Let’s say you meet a partner and everything is groovy, but you are working on a big project for work, you’re working on a degree of some kind, or you’ve said you won’t rest until you make partner at the big company…unlike other Mars placements, you won’t let romance sway you or take you off track. You are probably the best example of “right person, wrong time”. You don’t have as much of an issue as other signs walking away from a situation that is distracting you from your more worldly desires. This can leave people utterly confused, because you seem like a perfect partner, but honestly, you’re just not focused on aaaalll the drama that can come with fully committed relationships. People may actually take this energy and say that you’re a player…or worse…a floozy (one of my favorite words lol, definitely needs to make a comeback). You actually aren’t. You will be one of the most committed partners they could find, but if it’s not the right time…it just ain’t happening. So your partners will have to maintain some level of patience or they will miss out. On the other hand, because Mars is a planet of extremes, you may go through periods in life where you are celebate. It may take you awhile to stop channeling that Martian ambitious energy into your career and put it towards your sexuality. That being said, you will enjoy the more sensual side of sex. You could have great stamina and endurance. Because sex may not come around as often as you’d like, you will learn to savor every drop of your partners and please them in a calculated, thoughtful and masterful way! How smeeexxxiiiiiii!!!!!

Mars in Sagittarius or Mars in the 9th House

“I’ve been everywhere, man, looking for someone. Someone who can please me, love me all night long” Where Have You Been by Rihanna

If your natal Mars is in Sagittarius or the 9th House, your sexual language is that of many languages. You fall in love with the exotic, unknown and unexplored. You like your partners like James Bond likes his cars– foreign. You appreciate partners who expand your understanding of reality. Your partners have to expand your mind…and body…into positions that you never thought were possible. If you don’t attract partners who are of a different race, culture or class from you, then you will be attracted to partners who are otherworldly and spiritual or are just as serious about their religious beliefs as you are. Like Mars in Pisces/12H, your planet is ruled by the planet Jupiter, aka Guru. You NEED to learn from your partner. You NEED to explore with your partner. And you NEED to be able to teach your partners something as well. “I wanna know…can you show me…I wanna know about the strangers like me”...It’s giving…Tarzan and Jane. I have Mars in the 9th House, and it has manifested in a very fun way! So with my bias, I believe that this can be one of the more fun placements if you just go with the flow. Unlike other Mars placements, you don’t necessarily feel the need to control your partners. You’d much rather experience them, learn the lesson and move on to the next new shiny thing. Much like your brother, Gemini, you are equally as invested in getting the knowledge and seeking more knowledge. You of all signs are unlikely to overstay your welcome in a relationship. You can come off quite restless and unsatisfied…UNLESS you are just fascinated and enamored with an individual.

You can find yourself attracted to people who have accents, or speak a different language than you. But you will be even more turned on by someone who shares the same religious beliefs as you. You may actually be willing to convert religions for your partner OR, and this is more likely, you have a partner who is a different religion than you are, and instead of being ashamed by it, or making it an obstacle, you embrace it– ultimately respecting their religion, while maintaining the traditions of your own.

You will naturally desire to travel with your partner. Making some of your favorite memories in life when you made-love in some far off land. If the sentence, “I made love to a Frenchman I met while eating a baguette at the local cafe under the Eiffel tower and I’ll never see him again, but he’s the love of my life” turns you on…congratulations, you’re in the right spot.

This Mars placement is fueled by your deepest desire to see the world and its deepest truth, and then just imagine how much you can learn about the world through the lens of an intimate partner. Your sexual language, like I said earlier, involves language in and of itself. You want to hear the stories of distants lands, fascinated by the foreign nature of your divine counterpart. You will want to be intimate with partners who can speak for hours and hours about their adventures and endeavors. You need to be intrigued at the very least.

I also find that with this placement, there may be an age difference in your relationships. You either will be attracted to someone who is much older and wiser, OR, interesting enough, you could find yourself with someone younger. Why is this? You will appreciate a person who still has zest for life. You will be equally attracted to partners who are bright eyed and bushy tailed! Plus, I know I’ve talked a lot about your partner entertaining and teaching you, but the truth of the matter is, you will want to be as much of a sage to your partner as well. You will enjoy teaching them the ways of life and the pursuit of happiness. They will look to you with eyes of wonder as you paint beautifully vivid pictures of your life experiences that have shaped your view of the world.

Another element to this Mars placement, is you are one to challenge authority. This may manifest in your sex language by liking to explore BDSM culture in some way. Because this Mars is all about freedom, you may be turned on by the thought of your partner controlling you…just so you can say no. You can come off as a “well, make me”...kind of lover when it comes to foreplay. You love a challenge and you like partners who challenge you in some way when it comes to living out your sexual fantasies. Another way this may come out is you AND your partner may have a knack for getting into trouble or enjoying sex with some kind of risk involved. You get off being able to sneak away for a quickie. You’ll have sex in the backseat of a car. Joining the mile club is definitely on your bucket list…all the things! Because you are such a rebel, you tell stories that have “normies” clutching their pearls and leave their mouths open. You want to have memorable sex that is worth writing a book about!!!

I can not drive home enough how spiritual your sexual relationships have the potential to be. You are not a shallow lover. You are a lover full of wonder and full of lust…wanderlust…if you will. Sagittarius/9H is a very serious zodiac/house. You're destined to seek truth– so your sexual partners HAVE to enlighten you in some way. You don’t want to get stuck in the mundane, boring stuff of a relationship, (and please, don’t get too carried away, because we do live on planet earth!) you want to experience shrooms, talk about God and make love in the forest! Smexxiiii!!!!

Mars in Scorpio or Mars in the 8th House

“Every breath you take, every move you make, every smile you fake, every single day, I’ll be watching you” Every Breath You Take by Sting

Okay, okay, it would be all too easy to say your love language is stalking, and more stalking and even more stalking, but…that’s only a small fraction of what this Mars placement has to offer. If your natal Mars is placed in Scorpio or in your 8th House, your sexual language is that of raw passion and intensity. That being said, it is also about restraint and self-restriction, and sometimes self destruction. I tend to find Scorpionic energy and 8H energy to be radically internal. You, actually, may not be the most expressive lover. You are more comfortable waiting, studying and planning to pursue a lover, rather than going in full force. Because Mars is your natural ruler, Mars is more than comfortable here, but unlike your brother sign, Aries, you are more of the “planning” part of war, rather than action. This is the strategy of self-defense more than anything. You don’t want to walk into an intimate situation to be intimate yourself, you want to extract vulnerability from your partner like a detective solving a murder crime. Your sex language is more of a riddle than a question. And you would like a partner who intrigues you and leaves a lot of mystery. In my many many years of dating, and many many encounters with Scorpionic energy (I attract them like flies…it’s crazy) I always find that Scorpios are nowhere near as mysterious or hard to figure out as they perceive. Behind all that black and dark stares and gazed is usually a pretty pretty boring, but shy person. There is such a caution with this sign when it comes to acting on those very deep and sometimes all consuming desires, so you are very careful to not put yourself in harm's way. Another hot take that I have on this placement that may seem a bit contradictory to the Scorpionic stereotype is YES YES YES, you are smexxxxiiii and all of the things, but that doesn’t necessarily make you the most sexual person. You take intimacy and sexy very seriously, more seriously than most, because for you intimacy and vulnerability can be used against you and be seen as a weakness, so you are hard pressed to just be going around willy-nilly swinging from partner to partner. You also view sex/intimacy as more of a “power” thing than a “love” thing. And what do I mean by that? You know that deep intimacy and truly being intertwined with another individual gives you an unreal amount of access to that person on a personal and spiritual level. It is always important to remember where Scorpio/8H lines up in the grand scheme of things. It follows the Libra/7H of partnership. The 8H is actually the house that dictates how a relationship will play out. This. Is. Imperative. To understand this placement. You are far more focused on how the partnership plays out, rather than the partnership itself. Again, unlike your predecessor, Libra, who is ruled by Venus and may be more interested in the looks of a relationship and romantic partner. Your sexual language is more interested in the psychology of your partner. You don’t care nearly as much about the outside as you do the inside. What draws you to your partner is a need to access the ultimate truths through your partners. Hence why, you are followed by Sagittarius/9H of Truth and Liberation. Your sex language involves restraint, power and hidden truths.

As I said before, it may be really difficult for you at times to truly connect with your partners because your energy can demand sooooo much from them. You will require partners to go through such depths in their relationship with you, that they may not be able to handle it. And on the other side of that, you may stay away from relationships because you may mistakenly feel like it brings out some of your “worst” qualities. With this Mars, you may go through a very intense relationship when you’re young, one where you give your all, I mean…you would kill or be killed for those you love, and because that relationship fails, you may never want to experience those types of lows again and stay away. You are one of the most loyal of the Mars placements, so you are very careful to study who exactly you are giving your loyalty to. I recommend with this placement, you may find yourself oddly attracted to Aquarian/11H energy. It sounds weird, water and air, but in this case, Aquarian energy is endlessly fascinating because they are so unorthodox, you will never truly figure them out, so you’re constantly intrigued by them. Aquarians also value loyalty the same way you do. They will allow you the freedom that you need to sit in your own emotions, but value the friendship in such a way, you won’t feel abandoned by them. Even if the people you are attracted to don’t have Aquarius in their chart, I think that quality is something you should consider when looking into intimate partners. It is probably the partner who gives you the most space and it is the hardest to figure out, that will give you the most in life. If you have a partner that is easy to conquer, not only will you be bored, but you can easily slip into those darker energies of control and manipulation to get you way…even when it’s unnecessary.

AAALLLL that said, you are still a hell of a lover! I mean…wow. You intricately know how to please and conquer. You use sex as a language itself when you’re ready and willing. And man, do you have a way with words. You can easily hypnotize a lover to fall under your command, so be careful with this gift. You are more than comfortable in this arena once you move past your fears in the subconscious. You can channel this energy, much like the exalt Mars in Capricorn to succeed with some of your greatest ambitions. You will put your sexual energy into your work and projects in a way like no other! Just don’t take everything so seriously! It’s okay to have a good time. Be intimate and open up some! You’ll enjoy getting your head out of the sand!

Mars in Libra or Mars in the 7th House

“What a rush & what a high, cause when your love don’t fight, smoke gets in your eyes” Smoke In Your Eyes by Skepta, Ossie, Harry Stone

If you came to this section thinking that I was going to talk about how sweet and balanced you are when it comes to your sexual language…THINK. AGAIN. BABE. You are nothing of the sort. Seems contradictory, huh? Because Libra/7H is all about balance, right? Well…not when it comes to this Mars placement.

If you have your natal Mars in Libra or the 7th House, you are quite the spicy lover. To be completely honest, Mars is VERY uncomfortable here. Why? Because Libra is naturally ruled by the planet Venus, which is essentially the opposite frequency of Mars. I like to think of Mars and Venus as the brother and sister planets of the Milky way. Traditionally ruled by Ares and Aphrodite in Greek mythology respectively, they are technically half-siblings. So when you think of this Mars placement, this of how a girlie-girl would feel surrounded by all boys at a football camp. Sure, she may attract a lot of attention and she may have plenty of options…but she will CERTAINLY have to set clear boundaries to command the respect she deserves, as well as deal with the fact that no one around her may have the same interest. See how this can be uncomfortable? It’s not the worst thing to happen, but it can cause you to feel like you have to play the field a little bit differently because of Mars being in the House of Libra.

Okay, so now that we covered why this placement might be different than what you were imagining, let’s get into what this post is actually about!

If you have this natal placement, your sex language is all about breaking up to make-up. Because you’re on this constant quest of seeking balance, YOU will subconsciously or consciously seek chaos in order to regain balance. Your indecisive and somewhat aloof nature in relationships can be a source of frustration when it comes to your sexual expression with your lovers. If you have Mars in your 7H, you genuinely LOVE conflicts and attract conflicts to your relationships. You can be quite passive aggressive, honestly, and stir the pot to get attention. AAALLLL this being said, you still enjoy the finer things and love the idea of love, even though you may not have the most direct way of going about it. Your partners may even find you hard to read, and this can frustrate you, because your wishy-washy-ness is so innate to you, you may have a tendency to think that everyone is as back and forth with decision making as you are.

Ironically, more so than any of the previous placements I have discussed before, I will focus more on what sexual language you like from your partner rather than yourself. Of course, you like good food, good wine, good clothes, good banter, good company…you have Libra, like DUH, but I want to offer a different perspective on this placement.

So when it comes to your partners, you truly like a partner who takes charge, regardless of sex. You crave a level of masculinity and directness in your love language because as I stated earlier, it can be difficult for you to make decisions for yourself. You overemphasize how people will perceive you, and this can cause you to stunt your decision making, so you’ll find yourself craving a partner who can be unabashedly unapologetic in their approach to life. You seek partners who are brave and courageous and you will find yourself testing anyone you fall in love with to see if they have that spark of passion in them. You may find yourself seeking different things from different people, so you may have multiple lovers– and just like how it may take you forever to pick out your outfit in the morning, it may take you forever to figure out what you value in a partner. It is important to note that Libra/7H energy is indeed a masculine energy. I’m sure most would assume it’s feminine because of the “sophisticated” and charismatically social nature usually associated with Libras, but when it comes to sexual relationships, Taurus/2H energy is the feminine side of Venus. Libra energy in this way is more detached than people would think. As stated earlier, because you enjoy dates, chatting, getting to know people, you may be a really good casual dater! This could send mixed messages to potential lovers because you may have never really had any intention of dating them long-term– or, you really just haven’t decided yet. Now are we starting to see how this Mars placement can attract certain conflict? You will desire and crave a partner that can make decisions for you. This may lead to some kinkiness in the bedroom because you’re open to compromise and you can be bossed around in this regard.

Overall your sexual language is complex because of the inherent contradiction of this natal placement. You can make this work in your favor as long as you keep open communication with your partner, even if it’s to tell them that you need some more time before you’re comfortable making any lasting decisions. When you date, you will have to allow your partners to understand your up & down nature. Most people will probably take your pragmatic nature personally, so if you can find a way to channel this into being sexually playful with your lovers, it can be a great way to keep romance fun and interesting. As stated in the beginning, you are most likely to end up in an on-again-off-again kind of relationship because you like for the scales to be tipped, so you can rebalance them. You are far more detached in commitments than most people would assume, so it is essential for you to date like-minded people who understand that your coldness is not a reflection on your feelings. You choose to remain objective in your judgements and seek fairness in your relationships—even if you are the one who was unfair to begin with! Kiss it kiss it better baby!!!!

Mars in Virgo or Mars in the 6th House

“I got commitment issues, but I’m tryna fix that for you…I don’t believe in love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t take you serious” Commitment Issues by Central Cee

With Mars in Virgo or the 6th House, you may be surprised to find how non-committal you are when it comes to relationships. Why? Because you find relationships to be impractical. So when it comes to your sexual language, you are quite all over the place. Lovers can find you hard to catch, almost like trying to keep a fairy in a jar. You prefer to flutter around and keep things light in the sexual department. To you, sex can scream responsibility. After all, sex can be a pretty risky and dirty affair. All the fluid exchange and, ultimately, the required vulnerability, can make you quite uneasy. With this Mars placement, you can go between the two extremes of putting too much emphasis on sex or not enough emphasis at all. This is due to the natural ruler of Virgo/6H being Mercury, which, I find to be, an asexual planet. You are more interested in the intellectual connection than the physical connection.

BUT PLEASE, don’t get me wrong! You know you’re way around the bedroom. Your sexual language is constantly evolving. You do well with long-term partners that you can trust, study and get to know. You prefer a lover that is loyal, so you don’t have to worry about where they’ve been, or better yet, who they’ve been with. You find joy in repetition with one partner. OR, you are really open to “protected” one-night stands. You are either all in or all out. You don’t like to waste time on sexual relationships that you don’t see a return for a long-term investment. That being said, if you are unable to invest in the long-term, you can find yourself in a position of sexual frustration. You may really desire a person, but because of your deep need for perfection first, you may stall connections & find a lot of pleasure in masturbation for the time being. You, like your opposite sign, Pisces, can really get into your fantasies. You may find that erotica and romance novels can be great resources to pass the time while you likely toil between celibacy and being a whore (this is particularly funny to me because Virgos are known for being the Virgins of the zodiac– hence the contradiction in Mars in Virgo. The planet of sex and desire ruled by a “Virgin” is, uh….a difficult juxtaposition to say the least.) – again, it’s all about mental stimulation with you.

When you do meet a partner that you can FINALLY settle down and feel comfortable with, you will be a very giving lover. Because Virgo energy is usually associated with servitude, you better believe that you will make it your duty to service the object of your affection. You care very deeply about the satisfaction of your partner— far more than you care about your own. As stated earlier, you don’t mind finishing up solo as long as your partner is satisfied. You will find every nook and cranny, every deep desire, every love spot that your partner has, because you will analyze their body with astute detail. You will break your partner’s sexual language down and adapt it to be your own, because after all, you are a mutable sign. As well as being an earth sign, you do have a very deep sensual nature to you. Although you can come across as quite guarded with new partners, once you blossom, you really enjoy heavy petting and physical touch. You can spend so much time in your head and alone with your thoughts in other aspects of your life, you may find it very powerful to have a partner that literally grounds you and brings you back to planet Earth by holding you in their arms. Again, after you’ve bent over backwards (pun intended) to please your partner, you, more than any other sign, except maybe Leo, really needs to be acknowledged and celebrated for your hard work. You don’t take kindly to being undervalued or under appreciated when it comes to your romantic relationships in this context.

Believe it or not, this placement can actually be quite kinky! Why? Because of the influence of Mercury again. As stated before, you want to learn your partner’s as well as you possibly can to make sure you are seen as perfect in their eyes– sooooo, that means you’ll have some exploring to do. Mercury is such a curious planet, that it may not be kinky for the sensual pleasures of it all, but it will be interested in testing out sex & kinks for “research purposes”. This can give you a sort of detached feeling when it comes to sex, which may or may not work in your favor– you’re able to disassociate in a way that makes sex almost an out of body experience…it may take you some time to actually feel pleasure from sex. You are so focused on the other and pleasing your partner, you can forget that sex is supposed to be a two way street! I just want to reiterate, that this placement is so mutable, that you may find yourself pretty ambivalent towards sex at different times in your life. You’re kind of like “eh”. But there is hope, when you find a partner that lights your fire– you will find yourself wanting sex like a child wants candy! There is plenty of potential here for a beautifully active and engaging sex life– it just may take more time to develop than others.

Learn your own kinks! Have fun! Explore the more sensual side of life for yourself!

Anyone who is able to win you over (which is NOT an easy feat by any means) will be able to revel in the fact that you are such a wonderful lover! But don’t forget, sex is not a test that you can get an A + in, it’s supposed to be the culmination and celebration of it all!

Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House

“She may be the queen of hearts, but I’m the queen of your body parts” - Cockiness, Rihanna

If you have Mars in Leo or Mars in the 5th House, you are Britney Spears, all eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus, bay-bee. You LOVE to put on a show. Your sexual language can make love-making a spectacle! You’re over the top, you’re loud, you roar. You LOVE LOVE LOVE the attention. So much so, you may not even need sex to fulfill that internal desire for you. Huh? What do I mean? I mean, you may be satisfied using your creative gifts for sexual gratification. Chances are with this placement, you are highly creative and charismatic. You find sensual pleasure in being able to share your creative gifts with other people. Haven’t you heard of entertainers saying they had so much fun on stage, it was orgasmic? That’s where you come in.

Ironically, I don’t naturally find this placement to be the most sexual. Don’t get me wrong, you are DOWN DIGGITY for a good time, but you really use sex as an ego booster. You may even be quite lazy in the bedroom. You could easily live by the code “my present is my presence” and be a dazzling pillow princess. This isn’t a bad thing, and it definitely doesn’t have to be the case all the time! When you’re turned on, you’re turned on, but when you’re just casually engaging in sex, or are in a long-term commitment, you may feel like sex is something that is owed to you. Not in a weird entitled way, but more like a Queen sitting on a chaise lounge being fed grapes– like, “duh, you should have sex with me, I’m beautiful”, type energy. This, if you haven’t been able to guess already, can lead to a selfish attitude in the love-making department. You must remember that sometimes, your partner wants to be catered to as well. That being said, you won’t shy away from Valentine’s Day. You are the type to go all out! You’ll put on the lingerie. You’ll lay out the rose petals on the bed. You’ll pay extra for that honeymoon suite. OR, you will expect your partner to do all of this without you asking. You treat holidays and sex as if it’s a royal affair.

Due to your standards being so high, I cannot express to you enough that you may really put all your sexual energy into your creative pursuits until you find a lover of high-value and high sex drive. You love and somewhat need to feel desired in order to break down your walls. You don’t play hard to get– you ARE hard to get, so this may leave you with extended periods of non-sexual activities. You are more than willing to give up sexual pleasure for your own personal pursuits– in fact, you are more likely to do that if you have specific career goals.

You may be a tad bit surprised at my interpretation of Mars in Leo, perhaps you were assuming it would be a bit spicier, but I challenge you to look at your ruler, the Sun (yes, the actual burning ball of fire in the sky) . Not literally…well, you can, but make sure you wear sun-glasses. But in all seriousness, the Sun shines alone. The Sun is too hot to let anything near it, and it carries such a gravitational pull, that things simply orbit around it, but can never get too close. With Mars in Leo/5th House, you may find yourself in this position when it comes to your sexual nature. You attract a lot of people towards you, but they are unable to get too close, for fear they will burn up in your presence. Or, you shine so bright, you are forced to do it alone. Being the Sun and the center of the Universe is a hard job, but ultimately an isolating job. Your being, your creative gifts, your star power and the way you shine can cast such a shadow on those who dare come near you. It really can be one of the most challenging placements because you probably won’t understand why people can’t/don’t come near you. Again, you’re just soooo great, people can have an overwhelming and unrealistic ideal of what it will take to make you happy. It’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, it’s flattering, but on the other hand, you can suffer from being put so high up on a pedal stool that you never asked for!

One tip for you, is to keep your hair beautiful and lushes! People will be attracted to your wild side and want to bring that out of you. You can either really love having your hair pulled or be turned off by it because you spend so much time making it look perfect. Either way, your hair may be an essential part of foreplay for you and something that suitors may find undeniably sexy.

As long as you are mindful to share the spotlight from time to time and not always prioritizing your needs & your desires, you can be a remarkably loyal partner. Fierce is the word that comes to mind and you can be very fierce in the bedroom. (When you want to be.) You can outshine any of the competition. Most people truly can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to how committed you are in an intimate relationship. You are proud and you protect those that are around you and that you deem worthy. You have a royal air that surrounds you and it loudly and proudly screams `bow down bitches' when it's time to get down and dirty!

Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th House

“Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane” Born to Die- Lana Del Rey

If you have Mars in Cancer or Mars in the 4th house, ironically, your sex language involves a knack of overwhelming emotional destruction. Dramatic, yes, yes, I know, but very true. Mars is VERY uncomfortable in the deep waters of Cancer/4H. Mars in the 4th House, in particular, is a naturally difficult placement because it sits in the House of happiness, as well as aspects the 7th House of partnership and the 11th House of friendship– making that native, uh, a little difficult to deal with. Why? Because your emotions can be so erratic and illogical, it can be difficult for people to understand what you want. Heck, you probably don’t understand what you want most of the time. I promise I’ll get to the good stuff, but keep in mind that this Mars placement is in detriment! (It’s exalted in Capricorn, the opposite sign.) So when it comes to your sexual language, you value such a deeply emotional commitment from your partner, you could constantly try to test them by pushing their emotional boundaries.

There is a mixture of pleasure and pain. You love an emotional outburst– this can be good and sexy, or bad and scary. Emotionally bonding make-up sex, is your cup of tea…ESPECIALLY if you are the one who caused the “break-up” in the first place. You truly enjoy engaging with your partner in a loving way, when you can, but because Mars is so unstable here, it can be hard for you to maintain emotional consistency within long-term relationships. You can find that your passions wax and wane for your partner. Sometimes, you just want to run into their arms and kiss them in the pouring rain, other times, you want them to LEAVE YOU DAFUQ ALONE. This can be quite jarring to your intimate partners, but also to yourself. I recommend embracing this quality and being as honest as possible! Instead of literally creating a sh*t storm in order to be left alone, just communicate to your partner that you need a little space from time to time. But also be willing to give your partner that same courtesy and grace if they ask for the same.

You can feel a need to wrap yourself up in your partner's desires. It may come from a genuine place, but because Mars is an aggressive planet, you may be quite aggressive in how you demonstrate your love to your partner because your deepest desire is to be able to emotionally control them. This can manifest in an extremely emotionally manipulative way through passive aggressiveness and just causing overall uneasiness within your dynamics and partnerships. One of the lovely sides about this particular placement, is when you mature, you can have an extremely high emotional I.Q. Because you are naturally very sensitive to your surroundings, you can literally sense the emotional and physical needs of your partner without them having to say a word. You can be so emotionally intune with your lovers, it can feel like telepathy if they need anything from you. You just know, y’know?

In the bedroom, you can go from one extreme to another. Sometimes you want to be dominant, and sometimes you want to be dominated. It is important for your lovers to be able to ride your waves and learn what is needed from them at any given moment. Again, Mars is all about conquest. So when Mars is in the 4H in particular, you want to be able to be the leader in your home, but you also want someone who can take the reins when necessary. Again, this can be a difficult balance to strike within your sexual relationships because people may not understand the method behind the madness, typically because there really isn’t a method…it’s just kind of madness AND THAT’S OKAY!

Because Mars is so uncomfortable here, it is imperative for you to be able to channel your energy in creative ways or you can fall victim to your own emotional tirades. You want a clear line of communication with anyone you are interested with and they absolutely need to have some emotional intelligence or else they will drown in your water. You don’t want to suffocate your lovers with so much emotional intensity, that you both are unable to remain somewhat grounded in the chaos. You of all people understand just how powerful emotions and sex can be together, so be careful to use it wisely!!! When done right, you can have anyone wrapped around your finger.

Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House

“Talk is cheap my darling, when you’re feeling right at home. I wanna make you move with confidence. I want to be with you alone” Talk is Cheap by Chet Faker

If you have Mars in Gemini or Mars in the 3rd House, then you are all about an intellectual connection when it comes to your sexual language. You want to catch viiibbbeezzz. You want to be razzle-dazzled with the lingo. You want someone hip, cool, in the know…because, well, you’re hip, cool & in the know, y’know? It’s only fitting that your partner be the same. You, of all placements, may truly crave “your other half”. And I know, I know, we live in a world now, where people are saying “you are a whole person and you’re looking for another whole person yadayadayada…”, but you’re a TWIN. You want to be able to connect with someone as if you share the same brain, the same thoughts, the same…everything. This isn’t to say that you’re not sexual…you just enjoy mental jousting for foreplay. Think of how beautiful the dance between two evenly matched fencing partners is– the ebb and flow of tension – playing both parts of the aggressor and the defender– gliding almost effortlessly with a weapon in hand. It’s like the tango…but with swords. That’s how you envision your love. Beautiful art, yet dangerous. You may not be the most sensual lover at first, but in time you will certainly warm up. Why? Because at the very least, you are a curious partner! You. Want. To. Explore. You may be the type of lover to want to try almost anything once. You want to be surprised. You don’t want your bedroom to be boring. You resent repetitiveness and you welcome new experiences. You may even fall into the “switch my wig, make ‘em feel like he cheating” category. You like to switch up your look, your style…sexual positions (lol). This can even translate into role play! (Especially teacher/student).

I cannot express to you enough how much learning from your partner turns you on. You love asking questions & consider getting to know someone a conquest. The more difficult the puzzle, the more you yearn to solve it and this type of stimulation oozes over into your sexual pleasure. You’re curious to know what your lover’s love. You can have an objective perception of sex, because you aren’t the most naturally emotional person, so you can look at the love making process as getting to know every nook and cranny of a partner’s body– learning what makes them tick & “ick”. You become more emotionally open with a partner, the more confident that you are that you know them. You like learning, but you don’t like unpleasant surprises. This may be counter intuitive, but I find that after you go through your “lemme try any & everything era”, you will genuinely enjoy one partner. It will make you feel secure and like you have that missing piece in life. You don’t come across as the most committal type, but when you do commit, you commit fr fr, you just need a certain level of freedom in life to continue to expand your horizons far past the mundane in life.

Another element you may add to your sexual reservoir is……drugs. “DON’T DO DRUGS, KIDS & STAY IN SCHOOL”...alright, there is my disclaimer. Now back to what I was saying, you may be curious to try mind-expanding drugs & smex. Because you can be so cerebral, drugs like ecstacy can help you actually feel your body. The tingle will start from your subconscious mind, and venture into your conscious body, possibly making love-making a more pleasurable experience. If this doesn’t interest you, don’t worry, no pressure! Just making a note that this placement is more likely to think outside of the box when it comes to making their sex lives thrilling and exciting! Not saying that vanilla sex is boring…just saying in general. You do you!

Overall, this is a curious placement. It’s a fun placement, but it can be an extremely flighty placement in the beginning. Don’t let your fear of getting stuck, stop you from finding a true partner that you can really see the world with. You can find that “other half”, that “twin soul” that really knows how to light a fire in you and warm your cold cold cold gemini heart. In your moments of passion, you will prefer to keep things fun and light. Only when someone truly captures your mind, can they capture your body and soul! SEXYYYYYY!!!!

Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House

“People stop to ask me, how do you please your man? Take it from the black sheep baby, any way I can. Sometimes it’s with fire and sometimes, with ice…Just don’t get it twisted, his body’s gunna pay the price.”

- Rock My Boy’s Body by Joseph Stephens

If you have Mars in Taurus or Mars in the 2nd House your sexual language is about sensuality, sexuality, & seduction. You believe in making love an all encompassing experience and you will stop at nothing to make sure your partners have an all exclusive pass to your BO-DAY. IF it is earned. Because Taurus is naturally slow moving energy, you may be slow to open up. As I’ve studied astrology for years now…I’ve come to realize that Taurus energy is just as private and cautious and it’s opposite sign, Scorpio. If you have this placement, you feel the need to study your lovers and you wait and wait and wait and wait and wait before you make your move. But if you are able to wrap them in your warm embrace…you won’t want to let go and they won’t want you to either.

Like Leo, when it comes to your sexual language, you believe in putting on a show. But your show is subtle, quaint and slow burning. You will have the candles burning, the scented lotion and fresh out the shower smell, you will have the most luxurious sheets on the most comfortable mattress. You don’t believe in cutting corners when it comes to your comfort and whoever is lucky enough to wind up in your bed, simply gets to enjoy how you live your life. I could bet you have an impeccable taste in music and truly know how to set the tone when it comes to seduction. As stated before, you are able to create a world of pure pleasure for those you love and make them spell-bound to you, because chances are, they haven’t been able to match with a sexual partner who cares so much about the details of ALL 6 senses. (I’m including intuition because, y’know, I’m a tarot and an astrology girlie.) For example, I dated this guy with heavy taurus placements a few years ago. I very much remember and very much miss this awesome TV room that he made for himself. Instead of having a regular degular couch, he had a couch that was also a bed. It wasn’t a couch that converted into a bed….it was just a couch that had a bed in it…and massive 70 inch television mounted on the wall. When I TELL you, I wanted to marry that man because….UGH!!! I was so comfortable! I could melt into the floor when I was with him. And I have YET to be with anyone who has a room set up quite like that. The feeling has stayed with me long after we have been together. THAT is what I mean by the power of Mars in Taurus. It lingers when you’re done!

On the other side, you of all signs, can be extremely jealous and possessive over your sexual partners. You DO NOT LIKE TO SHARE. AT. ALL. The 2nd House is all about owning and possessions and you may take this mindset with you into your romantic relationships. To the right person and in a healthy way, this can be enduring and make your partner feel safe and secure in your presence. In turn, you also want to know that your partner is crazy about you and cares deeply about your well-being. Again, in a healthy dynamic, a little jealousy and possessivness isn’t bad. It can show that someone does have an interest in you and takes pride in the fact that they are able to claim you as their own. This is just something to be mindful of in this placement, because if underdeveloped, it can lead to issues of selfishness & strong resistance to allow your partner’s freedom. Of course this can bleed over into the bedroom as well. You don’t want to get so focused on your own comfort that you end up putting your partner into a routine that they no longer enjoy. Your favorite position may not be their favorite positive. It can feel like eating lobster every single day. Like, yeah, Lobster is great day 1, maybe even day 2, but by day 5….yuck. Depending on other placements in your chart, you may attract partners who are very much like you, in the sense they prefer routine, OR you may attract partners who are so wild and out of the box, it forces you out of your comfort zone. All I can do is say embrace whatever floats your boat.

There is no doubt that you are one of the most sexual, sensual and passionate lovers of the zodiac. Your innate knowledge of pleasure makes you an expert in the bedroom and you can be hard to beat. Although it may take you a while to warm up, either physically or emotionally, you eventually show your partners that it is absolutely worth the wait! Because you tend to be safe and secure in yourself (the 2nd house rules self esteem) you share that safety and extend your protection to those you love the most. Your sexual language is unforgettable. You know how to love someone head to toe! WOOOOO!!!

Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House

“Dollhouse, dressed up, perfect messed up, Torture me to sleep, paint the air I breathe. Fishbowl, chokehold, dirty water, I’m cold. Dirty as can be, have your way with me.” Dollhouse (with Lily Rose Depp) by The Weeknd

If you have Mars in Aries or Mars in the 1st House, your sexual language is intense & powerful. You have a way of pulling people into your orbit just by being your unapologetic self! The force is with you! Best believe! And people feel it. You get what you want and you want what you get and you have a way of luring in your prospective sexual partner by projecting your lust onto them– so much so they feel it when they walk by you. Much like your sister, the Mars ruled Scorpio, there is a carnal desire that surrounds you. It’s magnetic. It’s magnificent. And it’s very fleeting.

When it comes to your bedroom pleasures, you can be a pioneer of the “Wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am or…sir” (not as cute of a rhyme) mindset. You may have a habit of treating your lovers like conquest– wanting to overpower them and wrap them up in your passionate fantasies. You deeply enjoy power play in your sex life. Yes, you could easily be the dominant one in your relationships, BUT you could also seek refuge in being submissive to your partner. How? I know it seems contradictory. But chances are, with this placement (unless it’s in a water sign in your first house) you are more than likely the boss and the leader in your everyday life…so when it comes to sex, you may want to just “relax” and let your partner do all the hard work for once. If that’s the case, you may be a bit of a brat in the bedroom because you still like to challenge your partner for shizz & giggles, but you are certainly fun and definitely unforgettable.

Your sex language is raw and real. You don’t like to hold back your passion and you appreciate a partner who can match your enthusiasm in the bedroom. You love the runner chaser dynamic, and again, you can easily play both parts. You are strong and competitive and don’t like to lose the interest of your lovers, even though you can get bored pretty easily. You may prefer quickies over long drawn up love sessions, but that doesn’t mean you don’t like to indulge your sinuses from time to time– you’re just not one of the most lovey dovey of the zodiac and prefer loud, wild, hot, steamy sex opposed to soft caresses and whispers of sweet nothings. You may also be a person who uses sexy time to advance a certain agenda. You could use sex as a tool of manipulation to get what you want. That may seem extreme, but think about a stripper using her sensuality as a means to make money so she can pay her way through law school. THAT’S what I mean. Because you may not be so shy about your sex appeal, if used correctly, it can be your weapon of choice when it comes to getting what you want from someone.

Passion matters to you more than most. You would prefer a risky lover than a predictable one. You also may be a fan of the ole’ break up to make-up trope. Make-up sex is always better. And you don’t mind starting a fight in the streets, simply to uh…you know…end it….in the sheets…..if you catch my drift. You aren’t one for subtleties. You are probably one of the most straightforward and upfront people in the world and you may play shy, but once you allow a person to get to know you, you don’t hold anything back. Because you are a cardinal energy, you always have a childlike flair to you! You keep things interesting and youthful. You’re not afraid to cross boundaries and push the limits of yourself & your partner in the midst of a sexual act. You really may think that sex is something that can be “won”. You want to be the best. You want to be the one that lovers can’t get enough of. You don’t appreciate being compared to others and honestly hear partners talking about their past as if it was some sort of challenge. You definitely have a jealous and possessive streak, but like I always say, when this is a healed energy it can be enduring to the right partner. As long as it’s not obsessive and unhealthy, you can provide comfort to your lovers that you are there for them and only them. You expect loyalty in return, of course, but you don’t mind protecting and defending what you see as your own. Your love is real. Your love is honest. Your love is young and wild and free!

[venusbyline]

Oasis ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 01, oct.

— pairing: Spencer Reid x wife!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: squirting + overstimulation

— summary: Spencer finds out another guy made you squirt in the past and it hits a nerve. You agree to try this with him, even after your husband's sudden childish behavior.

— word count: 4.3k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 1st day, female!reader, husband!Reid, squirting, overstimulation, arguing, mention of safeword (no use), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), curse words, light degradation, biting, body worship, no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @magnoliatrees-world @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00

— crossposting: AO3

Ever since Spencer had to stay away from Virginia for more than fifteen days solving an extremely urgent criminal case, you've been needy all the time. Your thoughts were in an ironical division between your concern for your husband's safety and well-being, but also the pure desperation and desire to be touched by him again as soon as he returned home.

And it didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Spencer arrived so tired the night before that he didn't even bother to reheat his dinner. After all, it wasn't your fault if he returned late and the lasagna was already cold. Spencer was never a husband who demanded you anything. Both of you cooked and took turns doing the other tasks... As any couple should do. Of course he never complained if you didn't make his lunch before work. It was the least a husband should do. And you two knew it.

So it was a big surprise when there were no welcome hugs and kisses, but just the rolling of his eyes when he noticed that you put his dish in the fridge due the lateness. A spoiled attitude coming from him, and you gave up the lecture because you supposed he was just exhausted and frustrated after the case he solved with the team.

However, that didn't last long. Spencer simply took his things to sleep in the guest room. That made you angry as hell. He couldn't be being such a petty brat over a damn cold dinner, right? Spencer wasn't like that.

It was only a few minutes before you followed Spencer into the other room, asking for an at least reasonable explanation for what was happening to him.

And your hope of ending the night of Spencer's return with a good sex was completely dashed due to the unexpected argument.

During the morning, you left the room still sleepy and grumpy by Spencer's behavior last night, but tried to focus on other things. You tried to distract yourself by making the breakfast, furrowed brow as you watched the eggs and bacon strips frying in the pan.

You turned the piece of meat to the other side when you realized that it was already a little fried, but you let out a sigh when you felt hands entwining around your waist, the recognition of the shaving lotion smell preventing you from screaming in fright.

"It smells great..." Spencer hummed with groggy voice from sleep, leaning over so he could be at your height and resting his chin on your shoulder. The compliment about the good scent he was also flowing almost escaped your lips, but you remained silent, ignoring his existence right there behind you. Even though you hated giving him the silent treatment, your pride was wounded and you needed to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, he had been trying to ignore you all night, before the uncomfortable silence turned into a stupid fight.

Not getting any reaction made Spencer's heart to ache, and he sighed. "Honey, please... Talk to me. You know how much it hurts me not to talk to you."

You couldn't help but let out a mockery sound, without even looking at him back. "Seriously, Reid? Because I remember very well that you were planning to do exactly that shit last night."

Your accusation made Spencer let out a frustrated sigh, his hands letting go of your waist and taking a few steps away. For a moment, you thought he was angry too and going back to guest room or maybe the living room, but instead, you looked at him furiously as he turned off the flame of the stove.

"What the hell? I haven't finished cooking yet!" You exclaimed with a frown, not believing your husband's boldness.

"Yeah... I know." Spencer took a deep breath, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. "You can finish later. I need to explain myself."

"Oh, so now you wanna explain yourself?" You scoffed. "Maybe if you had done that yesterday instead of treating me like trash or-"

Spencer cut you off, holding your shoulders gently but firmly enough to make you shut up and pay attention to what he needed to say.

"I'm so sorry, okay?" He began and one of your eyebrows rose in a nonverbal sarcasm sign. "I'm serious, honey. I was an asshole last night and-"

"Yes. You were." Your words came out colder than he was expecting and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "You threw a lot of shit at me without me even knowing why we were fighting."

Spencer took another deep breath, trying to work up the courage to confess about what messed with his mind. He knew that nothing he said would justify his actions and that was making him anxious, his heart ached not only at the mere thought of you not forgiving his childish behavior, but also at the possibility of you keeping to avoid his touches and his attempts to talk.

Spencer let go of your shoulders, his hands coming down until they were intertwined with yours, even if your fingers were stiff at first.

"I was jealous..." The confession finally came in an embarrassed whisper.

A perplexity look appeared on your face. "Jealous? Of what?" You asked, trying to look him in the eyes, even though his face was tilted down, a few strands of hair hiding his flushed cheeks. When he didn't answer, you insisted, lightly touching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. "Explain it to me, Spencie."

Your demand said by a less angry way made him whimper, needing to be honest. "Y-Yesterday, after the case, the team was at the BAU. JJ, Prentiss and Garcia were talking some personal stuff about their sex lives..." Spencer began. "I-I wasn't paying attention, logically, I swear. I was with Morgan and Hotch talking about random things, but my hearing accidentally picked up a certain topic of the talk between the girls and-"

"Spencie..." Your voice softer now that you noticed how he seemed embarrassed and stuttering like a little child, as well as he was also beating around the bush. "I know you're nervous, but you could try going straight to the point, please? I'm worried here too."

Spencer nodded, knowing you were right. "I accidentally heard JJ whispering to the girls that you already had a squirt." He murmured and it was your turn to get hot and rosy cheeks. You could imagine that JJ hadn't told your secret as a gossip, but rather to add some important information on the subject, but it still left you embarrassed. "But you never had a squirt with me..."

Your eyes widened with realization and you tried to work around the situation. "Baby..."

"Don't do that... Please. I know how it works, okay? I know that not every woman can squirt and I also know that those of you who can squirt don't necessarily do this often. I've also read that it's not always as pleasing for you as porn makes it seem-"

You cut him off. "So you also know that squirting doesn't always happen during a orgasm. It can also happen even without cumming. It's something individual for each woman, it's not like an exact rule."

Spencer huffed angrily. "I know, fuck. I know..." He grumbled, running a hand over his face. "I know how all this shit works. But it doesn't change anything."

"What doesn't change, Reid?" You exclaimed impatiently now.

"The fact that you hid this from me!" Spencer shouted and you immediately rolled your eyes. "Damn, don't you dare roll your eyes at me. You don't know how much hearing that behind my back hurt me."

"Retroactive jealousy? Really, Spencer? You know better than anyone this doesn't make any sense." You huffed, massaging your temples to avoid the huge urge to pick up that frying pan and hit your husband in the back of the head.

His jaw clenched when you mentioned that. "It's not... It's not just jealousy, much less the retroactive one." He was stubborn like a fucking child, the sight of Spencer crossing his arms to try to look more mature almost made you chuckle.

"Oh, I bet it is, and very immature too." The scoff escaped before you could think of something more gentle to say. "Fuck, Spencer. It's not like we share details about our past sex lives with each other. That would be really awkward and uncomfortable. I don't wanna know what you've done with other women in your past and I guess you don't wanna know what I've done in my past either."

Spencer kept his arms crossed, but his eyebrows shot up and his jaw clenched for the second time, a clear sign that he knew you were right, it was just hard to admit.

"Well, I really don't wanna hear about that old stuff, but this is important one..."

"Why on earth would this be important?"

"BECAUSE NOW I'M FEELING INSUFFICIENT!" Spencer uncrossing his arms as he looked at you with despair. "I feel like I'm not giving you enough pleasure! Now I feel like I've never given you a decent orgasm."

You felt your eyes widen again. It all still didn't make any sense, it was something completely irrational coming from Spencer. You knew that academically, Spencer was always a genius who knew about anything in the world, but when it was something regarding you or your relationship, he acted like any man, lost with most situations and also insecure at times.

"You're being ridiculous." You grumbled, trying to push past him before his hand closed around your wrist, keeping you firmly in place.

"I know. I know I'm being immature and irrational, but-"

"But what, Spencer? Jesus Christ, if you were trying to deal with jealousy, it would have been easier to have asked to fuck me last night or something."

His face flushed and he began to stutter, not knowing what to do other than let go of your arm.

After two minutes of awkward silence, Spencer tried to argue again. "That's not... That doesn't make sense. We can't solve our relationship problems by having sex..."

His hypocrisy made you roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. And fighting solved it?" You asked and he looked away, knowing you were right. Again. "Yesterday I was really desperate to have sex with you."

He lifted his head and looked at you, surprised. "You mean that?"

You laughed quietly due to the confusion in his face. "Yes, Spencie. You've been away from home for over a fortnight, do you really think I'm not fucking horny?"

Spencer stopped to think for a moment, scratching the back of his head and trying hard to find a solution to the stupid situation he created. "So can we... Can we try?"

You looked at him, thinking about denying it out of a tantrum, but you just sighed and then argued. "I don't know, Spencer... I'm not in the mood, but we can try just for learning purposes. More like a lesson than our real sex."

A guilt expression appeared on Spencer's face, along with a pang in his chest. The idea of you not even wanting to have real sex with him for now was torturous for him. He knew he had failed with you, being so immature to the point of making you lose your lust about the situation. But he could try to redeem himself. Even though it was a selfish thought at first, he was now determined to apologize properly.

"Yes... Yes, that sounds good..." He gave you a sad smile.

You lay down on the bed and put a pillow under your hip. Your pajamas were already thrown somewhere random on the floor, just like the pink cotton panties. You were ready to teach Spencer whatever he needed to learn.

There was no certainty that he would be able to make you squirt. You always had the best orgasms when Spencer was in charge of pleasuring you, but he was feeling less after the discovery that you had already squirted with the help of another man. A man who wasn't him.

Maybe hiding this fact from him hadn't been tbe wisest choice, even if you hadn't done it on purpose. You just didn't think that mentioning this situation or asking Spencer to try that would really be so important. Over the years, no man had given you half the pleasure that Spencer gave you on a daily basis, squirting or not.

"Well, let's do it." Your words came out emotionless as you parted your legs, giving him the perfect view of your still barely wet pussy.

"You're shaved..." Spencer frowned at your complete lack of pubic hair so suddenly. Or at least that's what he thought.

You rolled your eyes, impatience side by side with embarrassment, both eating you alive. "Like I said, I was desperate to fuck with you as soon as you got back from the case. So I decided to get a full wax beforehand."

At other times, Spencer would laugh hearing you confess so openly about your high desire for his body over the past few weeks. At other times, he would even tease you about needing a vibrator to help you achieve your release when he was away, even if you were more than capable of cumming with your own fingers.

But your hands didn't provide you the same ecstasy that Spencer's long thin fingers made you feel. And he knew it too.

You felt yourself holding your breath the moment Spencer took off his shirt to make himself more comfortable. As much as your pride told you to look away from his body, it was impossible for you to stop enjoying the view. Watching Spencer's bare skin was as addictive as the fresh water of an Oasis should be for thirsty people walking through deserts. And you couldn't lie... You were desperate to quench your thirst and taste him again after all that time away from each other.

Spencer knelt on the floor, carefully pulling your legs so that your lower body was closer to the edge of the bed, and automatically closer to his face.

"Are you okay, honey?" He asked with a cocky smile as he felt your thighs tingle as he touched them to adjust your position.

Hearing your husband's sarcastic smugness, you held back from punching him in the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm great." Your voice sounded angry and he chuckled softly, nodding his head and turning his attention to your center, which was finally starting to get wetter.

"I'm seeing..."

You ignored his mockery and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to exchange eye contact at that moment. Spencer's puppy eyes plus his mischievous smile were an almost fallen angel combination. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing or the Devil in disguise, just as Elvis Presley said in that song.

Spencer giggled as he ran his fingertips down your thighs, caressing your skin so gently that it felt like delightful torment. You fought to maintain an expression of indifference and boredom, but the goosebumps that passed through your body told him a different story.

Already knowing that not so soon you would give in and admit your lust, Spencer began to left kisses spread across the lower part of your thighs, enjoying the sound of your breathing becoming increasingly panting.

"What's the next step, professor? Your teaching method it's being too silent..." Spencer joked and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Just... Just keep doing what you always do for now." You hummed with the last bit of patience you had left, grabbing the sheet to keep your hands out of Spencer's hair.

Another chuckle escaped Spencer's lips and he nodded, placing more soft kisses on your skin before moving closer to your pussy again, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of your essence for a few seconds before leaving a quick delicate kiss on your bud. “F-fuck…” You squirmed slightly, your eyes widening at his unexpected action. "T-this is new..."

"I saw something like this while I was watching porn after our argument and I thought this might be good for you." Spencer confessed and you nodded with difficulty, a confirmation that the wished effect was occurring.

You looked at Spencer's cute face, but the eye contact lasted very little time, because as soon as Spencer's tongue began to tease your clit, your head arched back, more moans escaping as he held your legs firmly, not letting you give in to the normal human reaction of trying to deflect sudden pleasure. "Fuck... Why is this even better than usual?"

Spencer laughed again at the question you asked amidst the moaning session. He knew you were more touchy this time and he had an idea why. Probably due to the fact that both of you missed each other's bodies, as well as the fact that he was working hard as if it were actually a goal to be achieved, a prize to be won. But he wouldn't stop licking you to admit it. Deep down, he supposed that you were realizing that too.

"T-two fingers, Spencer! Put two fingers inside!" Your order left him a little disconcerted, since despite everything, he was used to putting in one finger at a time. As soon as he did what you demanded to him, he felt the walls of your pussy almost crushing his fingers, a desperate moan escaping your lips, fleshy and reddened from holding back the sounds that wanted to escape.

"Damn, honey... You're needy today." Spencer smirked, starting the movements more gently, wanting to enjoy the sight of you writhing around his fingers, begging for more. "You said it would just be a lesson, just a method to stop my stupid retroactive jealousy... But you're loving it, don't you?"

You just kept moaning. Even though the pleasure was obvious by the way your cheeks flushed and your hips rolled around Spencer's fingers. Pride prevented you from saying you were excited to make a mess on the sheets.

When Spencer interspersed the fingerfucking and his lips closing slightly around your clit, starting to suck gently, an immediate whimper left your lips. "F-fuck, do it again. Do it one more time, Spencie."

Spencer, the genius who learned too quickly, followed your commands like a good boy, sucking the swollen bud again, his fingers moving faster when he noticed how you eyes were rolling back in pleasure. It was a divine view. He could fuck you for hours, just as he could watch you cum for hours too.

He greedily licked away your first orgasm of the day, even though he knew it still wasn't enough. It still wasn't the goal you two were looking to achieve that morning. However, not only did Spencer never waste the opportunity to take in every drop of your sweet release, but he also knew that the first orgasm could make it easier to get closer to your potential squirt.

And to be honest, he might even be content with your normal orgasms, since you looked so beautiful when you came on his lips.

Your lungs burned for air as his breathing normalized, his heartbeat became faster and your vision readjusting to reality. When the white flashes disappeared, you look back at Spencer, who still has a cocky smile on his face, his fingers still working inside you.

"Honey, you're a very unfocused teacher." He mocked and the literal joke made you laugh, a weak, breathless sound, mixed with some sighs of pleasure that were impossible to you contain.

"Or maybe my dearest student's very diligent. Too much, actually." Your mockery made him laugh too. His lips moving closer to your intimacy again, but now focusing on nibbling the flesh of your thigh, speeding up his fingerfucking again. Even the smallest touch making you whimper, your pussy tightening from the overstimulation.

Spencer noticed this and bit your skin for the second time, now with a little more pressure, and you were sure you heard the neighbor from the next apartment knock on the wall to curse you for the sudden fucking loud moan in the middle of the morning. This only further increased Spencer's growing arousal and your need for more release. "Grumpy old woman." You mumbled about her, trying hard to hide the embarrassment that colored your cheeks.

"Oh, c'mon... Don't be shy, my dear wife." Spencer chuckled, licking your soft flesh before teasing your with his teeth again, but now just scraping them across your skin until he reached your core. You felt the moment when the central and lateral incisors brush against your clit. It was a soft act despite it taking a gasp from you due to the little pain. And then he did it again, returning to moving his fingers roughly.

When Spencer nibbled on your swollen clit, you almost screamed, but his free hand stopped you from moving away from him. “Relax, baby…” He purred, licking your sensitive pussy to redress for the pain he caused, his wet warm tongue matching perfectly with the bitter sting of his teeth returning to bit the same spot. It was so painful and hot...

“S-Spencie…” You whimpered as he blew on your slightly tortured clit. A rush of air so brief that you would barely feel it usually, but now, with your pussy burning in flames, the mere breeze of his sigh in that right spot made you shiver and squeeze his fingers tighter.

"It's okay, I'm feeling it, baby... I'm feeling your little pussy squeezing me. Are you gonna cum again? Will you be a good wife and wet my tongue with your cum?" Spencer practically growled, focusing back on fingering you, his fingers moving in and out of you at such a fast pace that the wet obscene noise joined your moans, filling the room like music to Spencer's ears.

The moment his tongue returned to licking your soaked folds, your body shook more than expected and you opened your mouth in a silent scream, your back writhing in Spencer's grip, arched and aching as the clear jets wetted your husband's face, a guttural groan escaping him as he opened his eyes to see you with your eyes closed and your legs shaking as he committed himself to drinking every drop from the fountain you provided.

Spencer didn't give you time to adjust to that non-routine orgasm. He took care of remaining with his head in the same position, between your thighs, licking your pussy as if it were the tastiest Oasis' water. Savoring the flavor, eyes closed as he concentrated on getting messy, not caring which part of his face he was rubbing against your warm cunt. Whether it was the lips, the nose, the chin... He rubbed every inch of his face, noticing how your moans became desperate again and you tried to push his head away, a mix of overstimulation and shyness.

Spencer always loved eating you out. However, nothing was like now. Nothing was like feeling eaten alive by a hungry lover, and at the same time so worshiped by him.

"J-Jesus... it's enough, Spencie. S-stop, please." You tried to push him away, enough to get a heavenly view of his face glistening due your juices, completely messed up and handsome like a angel.

But he looked up grinning like a devil. "Unless you want or need to say your safeword, then it's not enough and I'm not stopping now." He threatened, even though you two knew that the one word would stop him immediately.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the back of Spencer's head closer to your already swollen pussy. He removed his fingers, focusing on letting you rub against his face. Every inch of the tip of his nose brushing against your folds was enough to make more pathetic whimpers come from you, plus a little liquid leaking out, now in light jets and low quantities.

You trembled, letting go of the back of his head and looking at him with your lip bleeding from biting so much. You wanted to say something, anything to say thank you, but Spencer had other plans. His fingers, still soaked from fucking your walls, began to return working on your clit. He smirked at your screams of pleasure, the tears streaming down your face... And he enjoyed every minute of all of this, exchanging his long fingers for his own palm, where the friction turned aggressiver, more painful, eliciting louder screams from you as he practically left your pussy raw, biting your thighs to create a mix of impressive actions whose only possible consequence was having you squirting into the palm of his hand, screaming like a whore. His little whore. Only his.

And when you did it, Spencer finally moved his arms away from your body. You sobbed, eyes closed and tears flowing. But he knew you were fine, especially when you let out a soft, weak and shy chuckle at just hearing the sound of him licking his own fingers so as not to waste any drop of your squirt.

"Was I better than your ex?" Spencer teased, pulling you to his chest, where he could caressing your hair and calm your tremors from all the orgasms he gave you.

Still with your eyes closed to try and calm down, you let out a scoff through your nose. He already understands how you feel, but that doesn't stop him from wanting you to say it, loud and clear. You nodded at his provocation and received a soft kiss on your forehead, while his hands snaked around your waist, getting closer to your tired and fragile body. "You're a very smart and diligent student." You managed to scoff and Spencer laughed, kissing your cheeks.

"Only because you're my favorite professor, honey."

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[blood-smiles]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐄 —-— ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍫 ⋅ ˚✮

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 - !! 18+ MDNI !! yandere . yandere gets down and dirty with darling . Chocolate aphrodisiacs . handjob . probably more . DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT..

The air was warm and the rich people laughing around you with their fancy champagne wasn’t making it any better.

You could just feel the luxury cars, expensive watches and decades of inherited fortune in their cackles.

You walked around like a lost duckling without its mother, you indulged in the chocolate fountains, the mysterious fancy meat and the delicious wine that somehow tasted like the tears of the poor.

You sipped your wine as you stared at a very particular sculpture decorated in jewels and silks, your commoner eyes never quite adapted to the strange and fantastical world of the wealthy.

You tilted your head at the abstract art, what shape did it have? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was this the so called modern art? 

At least it’s a step up from taping a banana to a wall, you thought.

What kind of shape was this? A bottle? A banana? A cat? A curvy rock?

God. This was stressing you out, you were probably putting too much thought into thi—

“I see you are looking at my newest creation. This is my personal interpretation of.. the essence of.. A woman.” The voice of a man drawled in your ear, wow, a woman? You could have never guessed.

the rancid smell of the cottage cheese in his breath fanning right into your nose.

You suppressed the urge to gag and potentially throw up your fancy meat and chocolate coated strawberries on the ugly sculpture.

Instead you covered the disgust you were about to show with a tight smile.

“The curves of her body.. The jewels hanging over her childbearing hips just.. Speak to me.” The man spoke, facing away from you as he shallowly expressed his thoughts, his hands flailing around in the air as if he was the next man to change art.

To you it just seemed like a weirdly shaped rock that had been drowned in very expensive precious stones and jewelry.

But for the sake of his delusions you simply nodded along with his words, trying to distract yourself from his rotten breath.

“You are quite the beauty.. Say, would you like to try these special edition chocolates I have been working on?..” The balding male offered, passing you a single chocolate in his hand.

Well, that was awfully stingy wasn’t it? This man must be swimming in pools of money and riches, surely he can spare more than a measly square of chocolate.

Whatever, hopefully that chocolate will neutralize his disgusting pants.

Your hand reached out, eager to try the grandeur chocolate, only for a larger and slimmer hand to snatch the piece of heaven from the man’s hand.

You gasped, looking up at the aggravator, Alejandro.

The beautiful man shoved the candy in his mouth before you could even open your mouth to whine.

You turned your gaze to the artist, only to see that there was a fat glob of sweat trickling down his face. He had the most ‘oh shit. I fucked up’ look you had ever seen.

“Alejandro! Why would you do that?!” You huffed, pulling at his sleeve impatiently.

“(Y/N). Why are you taking things from strangers. Did we not go over this at home? Do I need to remind you?” Your partner scolded you, tilting his head down at you.

his hair had been styled differently for the event, his hair gathered loosely over his shoulders, flowing down his back in a straight fashion.

“And you.” He glared, his eyes narrowing into a disgusted expression. “Who the hell do you think you are to be offering your repulsive treats to my lover?” 

His garnet eyes almost glowed in anger, a small vein appearing across his jaw. His hands were balled in fists, knuckles straining his skin, veins about to pop.

Holy shit, if you were in the other guys’ shoes you would have wet your pants— Scratch that, your bladder would have unattached from your body and dropped on the ground with a loud splat.

Pretty people really are scary when mad. You furrowed your brows in a grimace, sipping your tasty wine quietly.

The artist fled in a time record, you swear you blinked and only an outline shape of him remained in his place.

You looked at Alejandro, who was staring down at you intensely. His hands shakily landed on your shoulders.

His forehead pressed against your right shoulder. Now what was wrong with him? These little mood swings he has been having lately are proving to be quite irritating.

“..That chocolate.. Was laced..” He mumbled, taking deep shaky breaths. You turned around, eyebrows high in surprise.

“W—Whu..? How do you know?” He simply raised his head, his cheeks glowing with red, eyes half lidded and desperate.

..What the helly.

“Alejandro? Are you okay? Did it have poison?!” You began panicking, grabbing him by his arms. He flinched as if your touch had just burnt him, his posture growing stiff.

He looked down, thighs rubbing together. Heat began pooling in the bottom of his stomach, the tent in his pants beginning to create a wet patch.

“..Aphrodisiac.” He simply said, air coming out in little gasps. Was the drug that strong? It had barely been five minutes since he ate it— How did it work so quick?

He let out a soft sound, leaning closer into your body warmth “..(Y/N), please h-help me..” he begged, long lashes wet with little tears.

“What? Here? Now?” You looked around, maybe this not humble abode had an unoccupied room? You knew you couldn’t leave him in this state.

Not when he was begging so nicely.

You sighed, his fingers interlocked with yours now, gently pulling him along. Your mission was to get him to a room to relieve him with hopefully no casualties.

Someone stopped the both of you, a beautiful woman in a silky red dress with a sensual slit.

“Alejandro! There you are! I have been looking for you for so long!” She giggled, getting on her the tips of her feet to peck his cheek in a greeting.

Ah, you knew her. She was one of the candidates that his parents had groomed for him.

She wasn’t all that interested in him, more like in his fortune.

Alejandro growled under his breath, pushing her away rudely. His mind was fogged with lust but even so he was physically unable to interact with someone that wasn’t you.

“Leave me be.” He cut her off, grabbing your wrist and pulling you with him, leaving the pretty woman in the dust.

You ascended up the beautiful staircase of the mansion, running into one of the many empty rooms.

Alejandro didn’t wait a moment more to strip, his hands working in his tailored coat, then came off his black button up along with his pants and undergarments.

His skin gleamed under the warm lighting, sweat enhancing his already breathtaking figure.

“..Please..” He begged, his violet hair sticking a little to his face, his glasses foggy and stained with tears.

“..aah~..” he shivered, hand coming down to stroke himself, the motion making wet squelching sounds.

He sat on the bed on all fours, putting himself on display, writhing on top of the sheets in discomfort. Even in such a ruined state he somehow still managed to look like model. God really does have favorites.

You didn’t hesitate to sit between his thighs, nails gently teasing the soft plush skin of his inner thigh.

He gasped a little, throbbing under your touch. You traced the beauty marks blessing his porcelain skin.

He was so impatient. He was about to grab your hand and just tell you to touch him. But he knew better, he was to be patient, he knew that you would probably punish him and leave him in this sorry state.

Your hand finally wrapped around his pretty shaft, veins pulsating in need. Pre-cum bubbled from his slit, your thumb cruelly rubbing over his sensitive pink tip.

He let out a high pitched cry, closing his eyes as to try to hold onto the last of restraint he had. 

“Haaan!..” he whined, eyes rolling back into his head, hands gripping the sheets so tight that the fabric could rip from under his grasp.

You sped up your pace, indulging his needs a little. The slick of his cum made your hand sticky, he smiled at that. This was one of his brandings on you, your hands were claimed by him, by his juices—By his love.

Saliva trickled down his jaw, his tongue lolling out from the sheer pleasure. Your hands wrapped around him felt like a blessing, something sacred only reserved for him.

His hips bucked into your fist with a new sense of purpose, his head felt fuzzy, like it was full with cotton.

He felt himself ascending to cloud nine, about to cum. 

“Agh—Nggg~..” he put a hand over his mouth, trying to keep his noises down, hoping that no others had heard him over the loud orchestra downstairs.

Suddenly your fingers intruded inside his ass, curling up inside his hole. He mewled in ecstasy, burrowing himself on your fingers even more.

The tips of your fingers pressed against his velvety walls, his prostrate being poked by your fingers in such a deliciously unfathomable way that he couldn’t help but let himself go.

White semen oozed from his dick, dirtying the expensive sheets in a web of cum. Tears rolled down from his eyes, chest pressed against the soft mattress and plump ass in the air. 

Slick running down his thighs all the way down to his knees. His limp dick twitching after a fulfilling orgasm.

His chest heaved, you could tell he was spent. He turned his gaze to you, opening his arms as if asking you to come lie down next to him on the soft sheets.

You dragged a hand down your face, this man truly is a handful.

The two of you went home not too soon after, but this time making sure not to accept any suspicious chocolate from anyone on the way out.

Your lover pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, silently thanking you for the strange but passionate night the both of you shared.

[manicmanuscription]

Matching PJ's

Pairing(s): Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel get matching PJ's for Solstice

Word Count: 1137

Warnings: Intense makeout session, fluff, Azriel being obsessed and possessive, suggestive.

A/N: I edited this so instead of the matching set, reader got something a little bit more spicy to fit with the theme in my head!

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

divider by @cafekitsune

The River House was abuzz with excitement, wine flowing just as freely as the conversation. Wrapping paper littered the floor as it finally came time to open present’s and you snuggled into Azriel’s chest leaning further into him as you sat on his lap and his arm wrapped possessively around your waist. Ever since you two mated you introduced a new tradition to the family from Winter Court where you were from. 

After dinner everyone opened up Solstice PJ’s. Each couple of the inner circle picking out matching ones for a different mated pair. Cassian and Nesta just showed off their glittery gold pajamas that looked more like wrapping paper with bows and little bells attached than actual sleeping wear, Cassian giving off a final spin as everyone cheered and Nesta just rolled her eyes at his antics. Mor clapping the loudest at her choice of clothing for the couple.

“Thank you, Thank you.” He boasted before finally settling on one of the couches pulling his mate with him. “Alright! Y/N and Azriel’s turn.” Cassian grinned wildly. “Don’t worry guys, we picked some really good ones for you.” He said with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him, you’ve had some pretty awful and some pretty amazing pj’s ever since introducing this fun little game.

Cassian was determined to find something that would embarrass Azriel the few times he drew your names from the bowl. You stood up from your seat, catching the wrapped bundle from Nesta before making your way to the bathroom, Azriel following close behind you. 

“Nothing can be worse than what they got Feyre and Rhys last year.” Azriel reminded you as you ripped open the gift, you chuckled at the memory of the neon green pj’s that came with sewn in lights the couple had been forced to wear all night.

“I wouldn’t underestimate Cassian.” You responded and Azriel hummed in agreement. 

You both made quick work of shedding your clothes. Azriel’s eyes tracking every movement you made and when you were nothing but in your undergarments he couldn’t stop himself from pressing you up against the bathroom counter kissing you deeply as his hands settled on your waist, slowly moving down to your thighs with each slide of his tongue against yours.

You slowly forgot about the people waiting for you and whimpered softly against his mouth, tugging at the strands of his hair and he groaned, pressing his hips against yours. 

Azriel lifted you up and set you on top of the counter, sliding in between your thighs and titled your head back with a slight tug of your hair so he could gain further control of the kiss. You let out another moan and tried to grip the counter behind you for support. 

The sound of the soap dispenser falling into the sink brought you back down to earth and you pulled away from him. “You’re naughty, Spymaster.” You reprimanded, his eyes still glazed over with lust as he smirked. “Can’t help it.” Azriel breathed out slowly, his hands still settled on your waist.

You blushed embarrassed you almost let him fuck you while his family was still a few halls down. Azriel couldn’t help the male pride at your flushed cheeks and he nipped at your earlobes. You giggled and squirmed, finally pulling away from him and sliding off the counter. “You need to stop that!” You exclaimed, fighting a smile off. “Your family is just in the other room.”

Azriel made a show of putting his hands behind his back, and taking a mini step away from you. His eyes scanned over your body before you hid the magnificent sight away, sliding up the little nightgown Nesta and Cassian bought for you. 

Once you were fully dressed Azriel had an even harder time taking his eyes off of you. He didn’t know what his brother was thinking when he bought the matching black and red set but he was going to kill him.

He wore black and red plaid pants, it hung low on his hips and he didn’t miss the way your eyes trailed down his V-line or his muscular arms as he slid the tight red shirt on. He was surprised at how mellow the set was until he saw you. It was a skimpy red nightgown, the same shade as his shirt. The thin straps crisscrossed in the back and black lace covered the hem and the low cut near your cleavage.

It accented your assets perfectly, barely covering that perfect ass and the tease of your gorgeous thighs had his cock straining in his pants. Cassian and Nesta had somehow gotten your exact measurements, the dress -if you could even call it that- hugged you perfectly like a second skin, highlighting every beautiful curve and dip of your body. You grabbed your clothes and Azriel’s, magicking them away to your house and turned to face him noticing the dark expression in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face and gave him a little spin. “You like?” You asked cheekily and Azriel let out a pained sound. “You’re going to kill me.” He whispered, stepping close to you and pulling you into him as he kissed you even more passionately than before.

His grip tightened and his touch grew more demanding as he slowly walked you into the wall, his kiss left you breathless and his lips moved to your neck and then eventually your shoulder. “Azriel we have to go-“ You started but he cut you off with a growl and a firm kiss, demanding control as he let himself explore your mouth as if he had never tasted you before.

You went limp in his arms moaning embarrassedly loud. Azriel hiked one of your legs over your waist and soon a loud demanding knock echoed through the bathroom. 

“Come on! Your five minutes are up, we don't need a repeat of Feyre and Rhysand from last year!” Morrigan yelled loudly. Azriel ignored her kissing you even deeper and holding you even tighter while she kept loudly knocking. Finally you found the strength to pull away. “Azriel.” You warned and he let out a groan of frustration but pulled away, setting you back down on the floor and brushing your hair with his fingers as you tried to make yourself look presentable. Before you left the bathroom Azriel gave you a look that promised he wasn’t done with you and you gave him a kiss on the cheek conveying your excitement. 

Finally you opened the door and Mor gave you a knowing smirk before the three of you headed back to the living room. Whoops and cheers erupted as you made your debut and Cassian let out a long wolf-whistle at the sight of you.

“Looking nice Y/N.” Nesta smirked and Azriel cut down everyone’s excitement shortly, pulling you into his lap and shadows hid most of you from view, his hands gripping your waist with an intensity that you loved. 

“You’re a dead male Cassian.”

[decay-1]

Soldier!Ena makes me so gay, can I please ask for another imagine of her being domineering and where she maybe calls reader cute? 🥺🙏✨️

Here you go! I mixed in 2 requests in this one; hopefully you guys like the way I went with writing this!

I'm way 2 lazy to continue editing, so it's probably kinda ass, but yea, I'd love feedback!

“Not even a fool would leave your side, my dear.”

You would’ve been killed had she not come in at the last second, blowing a shot into your enemy’s guts and rendering them dead. 

Yet… She continued firing, no matter how much you told her to stop. It kept going, bullet after bullet, blood spill after blood spill, until the entity was ultimately unrecognizable. The blood filled the dirt, seeping into the cracks caused by the war and seeping under Ena’s feet. 

The blood rippled disgustingly with each shot ringing in the air.

“It’s DEAD, Ena!”

You ran over and grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her. Your warm touch seems to have woken her up from her dissociative state.

Her stare felt off. Her actions were so… unlike her; she’s never lost her cool this much to start wasting bullets on a nobody.

You were about to ask if she was injured, but she had thrown the gun onto the dirt and practically jumped onto you. She wrapped her arms around you, firmly, as if you would slip from her fingers at any moment. One hand was firmly wrapped around your waist, pushing you into her, and the other was behind your head. 

“Ena—? this isn’t the time nor place—”

“No matter—are you okay? Injured? Did anything get its hands on you?” She shouted breathlessly over the missiles, pulling back and putting her hands all over your person to check for injuries.

You could feel her tremble, and the slight stutter in her voice was hard to ignore. It gave you a bad feeling in your chest, specifically the left side, for some… strange reason.

“No—! no, I’m alright—” You dropped your gun to grab her shaky hands, halting her frantic search. Feeling just how shaky her hands were broke you all the more. “I’m okay thanks to you… But are you okay, Ena?” 

She froze at your question, her wide eyes looking into your worried ones, as if searching for something. Her mouth hung open, yet nothing came out, and she struggled to form a single thought. She looks down at her bloodied shoes for a moment. Your warm hands over hers calms her down, knowing that you’re still there with her.

Taking a much-needed, deep inhale and exhale, she looks up at you, a serene feel surrounding her. Her hands have stopped their trembling; she seemed confident now. And she smirks. 

Seeing her back to her usual self made you nearly start to form a smile of your own.

Her hands carefully rose up to your face; she gently rubbed your cheeks as a way to comfort both you and her. A building crashing down a while away made her hair flow. Beautifully, should you add. 

Wait, what? 

Stepping closer, she spoke smoothly. 

And suddenly you forget about the war raging behind you; you forget the ash and debris falling down like rain everywhere and into your lungs.

"I am by my lover’s side now, aren't I?"

Now it was your turn to be breathless. Did she just…? The area was already as blazing hot as it could be, yet she somehow managed to make you feel even warmer. That can’t be possible, can it? What the hell is she doing to you and…and your heart? The sound of it beating restlessly took over your senses. Was that normal? Is this an enemy attack? Are you dying?!

She chuckles at your state, swiftly snapping you out of your thoughts. 

She's going to be the death of you someday, 

“God, you’re so cute,” she hums, her nose a hair away from yours.

and somehow, you’re not against it.

You sweat-dropped from all the warm feelings bubbling up in your chest. Trying to think of something—anything— to say, you then remembered something:

“Hey—wait—aren’t you supposed to be on the other side?”

She tilted her head and spoke as if it was obvious.

“Not even a fool would think of leaving your side, my dear.”

[kooffeecup]

࣪ ִֶָ love wins all ࣪ ִֶָ .

Summary ᝰ.ᐟ

You ended things with Miyeon to escape the web of his lies—but the truth was far heavier. Your heart had begun to crave something it shouldn’t: the quiet warmth of his father, Jungkook. pairing : ex boyfriends father ! Jungkook x you Genre : angst, age gap, forbidden love, fluff? credits : edited by me | picture resources from pinterest. status : oneshot.

a/n : just read you are gonna love it. [ taking drabble request for this ]

The wind was cool against your cheeks as you stood near the edge of the River. You didn’t expect to see him, not here, not now.

“Y/N?” That soft voice, polite, gentle, hadn’t changed a bit. You turned, and there he was Jeon Jungkook. Miyeon’s father.

He was dressed simply, dark coat buttoned up, hands tucked into his pockets. His face was calm, but his eyes, they searched you like they were holding questions too delicate to ask.

“I wasn’t sure if it was you,” he said with a small, warm smile. “It’s been a while.” You nodded slowly, the corners of your lips twitching upward. “Yeah it has.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between you, comfortable yet heavy. 

“I… I heard about the breakup,” Jungkook said quietly, looking down at the ground for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “Miyeon doesn’t talk about it much. But he was different after. Still is.” You looked away, biting your lower lip.

Then he asked it. Not accusingly. Not with anger. Just curiosity laced with sadness. “Why did you leave him?”

You inhaled deeply. The words you had prepared if ever this question came never made it past your lips. Instead, you just smiled. A soft, pained kind of smile. One that said everything and nothing at once. 

Jungkook didn’t press. He only nodded, as if he understood even without an answer. “You’re a good person, Y/N,” he said quietly. “Whatever happened I hope you’re okay.” 

His kindness made your chest ache. He always was gentle. A soft soul in a harsh world. You looked at him one last time before turning back to the river. “Thank you, Mr Jeon.”

He gave you space. Respectfully, quietly. Like he always did. But that moment lingered, two hearts who once shared the same family, now just strangers under the same night sky.

You kept your eyes on the water, watching the way it flows under the city lights. The silence hung between you and Jungkook, but it wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, it was waiting. Waiting for you to speak.

“I always wanted someone who wouldn’t judge me,” you said quietly. “Someone soft spoken, gentle. With a kind heart.”

Jungkook’s head tilted slightly, his expression still and listening. You finally looked at him, eyes soft but wounded.

“But I never found any of that in Miyeon.” Jungkook didn’t flinch, didn’t defend his son. He just waited, letting you speak freely, without fear.

“He made me feel like I was something to show off. He pretended to make me his, to care, but it was all surface. No depth. No, real softness.” Your voice cracked just a little. “Everything about us felt like a performance. And I was tired of performing.”

Jungkook’s eyes fell to the ground, his brows furrowing. There was a quiet pain in his face, not just because of what you said but because he believed you. And that hurt in its own way.

You sighed, your arms folding across your chest as you looked back at the river. “I never needed grand gestures. Just someone who made me feel safe. Someone who saw me, not someone who needed me to fit into his perfect picture.”

The wind picked up, brushing your hair across your cheek, and Jungkook reached out instinctively to tuck it back. His fingers hesitated before touching you, then retreated, respectful, always.“I’m sorry,” he murmured. You blinked, surprised. “For what?”

He met your eyes, voice soft. “For not raising him better.” That made your heart ache in a whole different way. You stepped back slightly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault.” Still, Jungkook looked like he carried the weight of it. “You’re nothing like him,” you added softly.

You exhaled slowly, your gaze tracing the soft waves across the water. The weight of your words lingered between you and Jungkook, and you could feel the tension shifting not from discomfort, but from quiet understanding.

“The person I wanted,” you began softly, “was never Miyeon.” Jungkook turned to face you, his posture still gentle, patient. He didn’t interrupt, not once.

“I wanted someone honest. Someone whose warmth wasn’t just for show. Someone who didn’t need to pretend to care, or wear a version of love like a mask when others were watching.”

You looked down at your fingers, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “But Miyeon,” You smiled faintly, bitterly. “He was good at pretending. At making things look perfect from the outside. But when it was just the two of us, I couldn’t feel it. And I couldn’t bring myself to keep loving that version of him, the one that only existed when it was convenient.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper. “I think part of me kept hoping that the person he pretended to be, might one day become real. But I was wrong.”

Jungkook remained silent, his face unreadable gentle, but quiet in a way that made you wonder what he was holding back. You glanced at him. “I didn’t stop loving because I gave up. I stopped because I couldn’t keep lying to myself.”

His eyes met yours then, soft and deep, like he saw something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to see and feel. “I understand,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “More than you know.”

His words lingered and the way he looked at you in that moment, it wasn’t just about Miyeon anymore. Something else stirred quietly between you and the man standing beside you. Jungkook hadn’t said much, yet his eyes held a softness that pulled the words right out of you. 

You took a breath, steadying yourself. “As the days went by,” you said, voice low, vulnerable, “I started to realize something.”

Jungkook’s gaze never wavered, but he didn’t press. He just waited.

“I found the person I was always looking for.” You glanced at him, then quickly looked away, cheeks burning despite the cool night air.

“Someone soft-spoken. Someone with a kind heart. Someone good, not just in the way they spoke, but in how they treated people when no one was looking.” You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly tight.

“But it wasn’t Miyeon.” “It was…” You hesitated, voice trembling just enough to betray the emotion behind it. “It was you. I never wanted to make things worse. Never wanted to make anything bad or uncomfortable,” you continued, your voice fragile now. “So instead of acting on my feelings, I broke up with him. I let him go.”

You looked at Jungkook then, finally, truly and your eyes stung with everything you had carried alone.

“I couldn’t even look him in the eyes when I ended it. Even though it was him who deceived me first.”

Jungkook’s brows pulled slightly together, his lips parting like he wanted to say something but no words came. His expression was unreadable: surprise, pain. Jungkook didn’t speak right away. He stood still, as if your words had rooted him in place. The kind of stillness that wasn’t silence, it was restraint. His gaze dropped to the pavement, and for the first time since you’d known him, you saw a crack in his composed, polite exterior.

When he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy, not from tears, but from the weight of things he had never said.

“You don’t know how many times I saw it,” he began, voice low, steady. “The way he talked to you or didn’t. The way you looked like you were slowly folding into yourself.”

You looked down, your fingers curling tighter into your sleeves.

“I wanted to say something,” Jungkook continued. “So many times. But I didn’t think it was my place. He was my son and you were his. I didn’t want to overstep. I thought if I said something, it would just make things worse.”

His jaw clenched slightly, eyes flicking toward the river before resting on you again. “But the truth is,” he said, softer now, “I noticed you more than I should’ve.”

Your breath hitched.

He took a step closer, not too close, just enough to close the distance between two people no longer hiding behind politeness.

“You were always so gentle. So patient. You deserved more than what Miyeon gave you, Y/N. And maybe it makes me a terrible father to admit it, but,” he paused, a slight shake in his voice now, “you felt more like mine than his. Not as a daughter. Not even as someone I had a right to want. But just someone I wanted to protect. Someone who made things feel quite Peaceful.”

Your lips parted, stunned not by what he said, but by the way he said it. Like he’d been carrying that truth for longer than you could imagine.

“I didn’t know you felt the same,” he whispered. “But I think a part of me hoped.” He stepped back then, giving you space again like he always did.

“I would’ve never crossed that line,” he said gently. “I still wouldn’t. But now that I know, I just needed you to know too.” 

Neither of you moved. Nothing feel the same anymore. Not after that. The silence after Jungkook's confession wasn’t heavy. It was delicate, fragile. You stood there, heart thudding like it had been waiting years for someone to finally say the right thing.

You looked at him again.There was no trace of guilt on his face. Just quiet sorrow. The kind that came from holding back for far too long.

You stepped forward, closing that small space he had respectfully created. “I didn’t expect you to say that,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the wind. “I thought I’d carry it forever alone.”

Jungkook’s lips tugged into the faintest smile, sad, knowing. “You weren’t alone.”

Your throat tightened. “If things were different, if I hadn’t been with him—”

“Don’t,” Jungkook cut in gently. “Don’t blame yourself for any of this. You did the right thing. You walked away.”

You nodded slowly, but your eyes betrayed you, filled with everything you hadn’t been allowed to want.

“I just wish I met you differently,” you whispered. “Not as his girlfriend. Not like that.” His jaw tensed again, like the thought pained him too.

“If I met you differently,” he murmured, “I think I would’ve fallen for you all the same.” Your breath caught in your chest. He took a deep breath, then smiled faintly, eyes soft. “You still deserve peace. Someone who doesn’t just see you, but honors you. Someone who isn’t me.”

That sentence broke your heart again. But before you could speak, Jungkook looked at you with something deeper than longing, close to love but bound by timing, duty.

“I'll always respect you,” he said, voice warm and heartbreaking. “But if you ever need someone who listens, I’ll be here.” You stared at him, not sure whether to cry or say thank you. Instead, you nodded.

Then slowly, quietly, he turned and walked away. But not before glancing back once. That single look said everything he couldn’t.

—

Jungkook’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than he intended as he drove down the quiet streets. The night air outside felt cold, the weight of your words pressed heavier with every mile.

“I found the person I was always looking for. It wasn’t Miyeon… it was you.”

Those words echoed through his mind, repeating over and over, each time they grew harder to ignore. His fingers tapped the wheel, the rhythm slower now, like he was trying to keep pace with his racing thoughts. The confession wasn’t something he had expected, especially not from you. You had been his son’s girlfriend, someone he should never even dreamed of seeing in a different light. And yet, here you were, making him question everything.

The drive felt endless. Jungkook could feel the coolness of the night creeping through the car windows, but the warmth that had sparked inside him during your conversation was still there. It lingered, impossible to shake.

He was older. He was Miyeon’s father. He should’ve never let himself imagine something different. But he couldn’t stop.

The way you spoke about Miyeon, the way you described him pretending to be someone he wasn’t, it all made sense now. It clicked in his mind how carefully he had watched you from the sidelines, how he had noticed the quiet sadness in your eyes whenever Miyeon wasn’t around. The way you seemed to shrink a little more each day, your true self buried beneath his son’s shadow.

And then the way you had looked at him tonight. It was as though you had peeled back every layer of pretense you had kept for so long.

No. I can’t let this go any further. I’m his father. I’m not the person you need. He repeats in his mind. But it didn’t matter how many times he told himself that. Because the truth was, he had been that person for so long, the one who saw you when others didn’t, the one who noticed your quiet strength, your kindness. He had seen what Miyeon couldn’t, or wouldn’t. Could he really pretend it was nothing?

His chest tightened as he rounded the corner, the glow of the streetlights flickering softly outside. He needed to focus, needed to let this thought go. But as the road stretched out in front of him, all he could think about was you. And how, in some parallel world where things were different, it could’ve been him standing there with you. Not Miyeon.

The road blurred as Jungkook’s mind drifted to another day, the day that had shifted everything inside him, even if he didn’t realize it at the time.

It was the anniversary of his late wife’s death. The house had been quiet, as it always was on days like this. Jungkook had been alone in their living room, sitting in front of the fireplace. His eyes were fixed on the photo of her, the one that sat on the mantelpiece. The one that never seemed to lose its weight, even though years had passed.

He’d been staring at her smiling face, the sadness in his heart as palpable as ever. Her death had taken something from him that he didn’t think could ever be restored. He smiled at the photo, a sad, bittersweet smile as memories of her filled around him.

He hadn’t heard you approach, but there you were, standing behind him, your presence warm and quiet. There was no judgment, no rush to say anything to make him feel better. Just the simple comfort of being there.

"Life goes on for the living, Mr. Jeon," you had said quietly, your voice soft yet steady.

He turned to face you, startled by your words. But somehow, they didn’t sting. They felt true. In a way, it was exactly what he needed to hear. Life did go on. Even if it felt like everything was frozen in time when he was alone with his thoughts. Even if he couldn’t shake the pain of losing her.

He studied you for a moment. The way you stood there, not intruding on his grief but acknowledging it. There was something in your eyes, deep and understanding. You weren’t offering him empty comfort. You were simply reminding him that life had a way of moving forward, whether we wanted it to or not.

That moment lingered in his heart, unspoken, until now. You’d given him something he hadn’t even realized he needed: permission to move forward, not just for the sake of his late wife’s memory, but for himself.

It was then, in the quiet of that day, that he started to notice things about you. Things he hadn’t before. The way your presence seemed to fill the room without trying. The way you didn’t speak much, but when you did, your words seemed to make more sense than anyone else’s.

And now, as he drove, he remembered that day like it was yesterday. The softness in your voice, the compassion in your eyes, the quiet strength you held.

It was never supposed to be you, he thought. You were supposed to be off-limits. But somewhere along the way… he stopped seeing the line.

He wasn’t sure when his feelings for you had crossed the line from simple concern to something more. Maybe it had always been there, buried under years of politeness and respect. Or maybe it had started that day when you stood behind him, offering nothing but understanding and truth.

Life goes on for the living, Mr. Jeon.

And here he was, years later, unable to let go of that truth. Unable to let go of the feeling you had stirred within him. The one that whispered that, it was time to move on. Not from the memories of his late wife, those would never fade, but from the role he had built for himself as a grieving husband. Maybe life had more for him, too.

As Jungkook drove through the quiet streets, his mind couldn’t help but revisit that day, the day that seemed so far away, yet so close, like it had only just happened. His late wife’s face was still fresh in his memories, her laughter, her touch, and her voice.

She used to say the same thing to him, all those years ago. He remembered the warmth in her eyes, the gentle way she would remind him that life moves on, even when we don’t feel ready.

“Life goes on for the living, Jungkook.”

She’d said it to him so many times, especially after her illness had taken its toll. Her words always came with a soft smile, her way of trying to lift him out of the heavy grief that threatened to consume him. But back then, he hadn’t understood. He’d clung to the past, to the loss, unwilling to let go of the life they had shared, and to her, that had always been a weight on his heart.

“Life goes on for the living.” He had heard it so many times, but it never quite reached him until now. It never felt real until you said it to him. It was as though those same words, spoken in such a different context, had somehow found their way back to him, but this time they felt like an invitation rather than a reminder.

He wasn’t comparing you to her. He wasn’t trying to draw parallels. But in that moment, something inside him shifted. Life had sent two people into his life who thought the same, who shared the same sentiment, only in different times, in different ways.

He dont know, Was it fate? Was it just coincidence? The questions swirled in his mind, but he didn’t have answers. All he knew was that both of you had spoken those words when he needed to hear them most. His late wife had said them to help him heal, to remind him that he wasn’t bound by grief. And now, you said them to him, making him wonder if there was more to life than the quiet solitude he had wrapped himself in all these years.

He didn’t compare the two of you, he couldn’t. His late wife had been his everything. She had been his partner, his love, his guide through life. And you, You were someone completely different. Someone who had come into his world unexpectedly, someone whose presence had slowly become more than he ever intended.

But still, Jungkook couldn’t ignore the connection. The way you had understood him when no one else did. The way you had offered him comfort not in grand gestures, but in quiet words just like she used to.

As he drove, the realization hit him. He wasn’t looking for someone to replace her. He wasn’t seeking to find a replica of the love he had lost. But life had brought you into his world for a reason. You and your gentle understanding, your kindness, your words, so similar, yet so unique had become part of his healing, part of his journey. And though he didn’t know what that meant, he couldn’t ignore the pull.

The pull that kept him thinking about you even when he didn’t want to. The pull that kept him questioning whether there was more for him in this life than the grief he had carried for so long.

Jungkook let out a long breath, his mind still swirling with the weight of everything you had shared. His heart, though, felt lighter. He didn’t know what the future held. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with these feelings. But he did know one thing: life had sent two people into his life who thought the same, who had seen him in a way no one else had. And that meant something.

—

The house greeted Jungkook with stillness as he stepped inside. He took off his coat, shoes and padded down the hallway, gently pushed open Miyeon's door.

There he was, fast asleep, his face relaxed, untouched by the weight of heartbreak or memory. Jungkook lingered by the doorway for a moment, taking in the peaceful rise and fall of his son's chest. A part of him felt guilt gnawing at the edges of his heart. Miyeon had no idea that while he slept, his father was carrying a truth heavy enough to split him open. A truth that had a name, a voice, a smile,Yours.

But Jungkook didn’t step into the room. He only watched for a few seconds more before quietly pulling the door shut again and walking to his own room. And there, resting above the nightstand, was the picture that had anchored him all this time. His wife. Her eyes still held the same brightness. Her smile still reached into the hollow spaces of his heart. Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward, and stared at her photo.

“Hey,” he whispered, as if saying it any louder might shatter the fragile peace in the room. His throat tightened.

“I… I met her today.” He smiled. “Y/N.” He gave a soft chuckle under his breath, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You would’ve liked her. She’s got that same quiet strength you had. She doesn’t talk much, but when she does it’s like she already knows exactly what you need to hear.”

His gaze softened, heavy with emotion. “You always said life goes on for the living. And for so long, I didn’t understand what you meant. I thought it was just something people say to make death easier to swallow.”

He looked away for a second, then back at the photo. “But today, she said the same thing to me. Years ago, actually. On your anniversary. I didn’t think anything of it then. I didn’t let myself think anything of it. But tonight, after what she told me…”

He exhaled slowly but painfully. “…I think she’s the reason I’m still standing. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I wasn’t looking for her. But she found me. I’m not trying to replace you. I never could. You were my home,” he whispered, voice trembling. “But maybe… maybe life sent her to remind me that I can still feel. That I can still be something other than a man frozen in time.” His fingers brushed against the edge of the photo frame. “I just thought you should know.” He sat there a little longer, letting his heart speak in the silence. 

What Jungkook didn’t know was that as he sat on the edge of his bed, whispering confessions into the silence and memory of his wife, his son was standing just beyond the door.

Miyeon had woken moments earlier, stirred by the soft click of his door. He’d rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stepped out to get a glass of water, but what stopped him in his tracks was the sound of his father’s voice. Very quiet, Heavy and honest. And full of pain Miyeon hadn’t heard from his father in years.

He had leaned against the wall, out of sight, listening. Listening as his father uttered a name he hadn’t expected to hear. Y/N. Miyeon’s breath hitched when he heard it. And as he stood frozen there in the hallway, the words began to pierce deeper.

“She’s the reason I’m still standing.”

“I’m not trying to replace you…”

“…but maybe life sent her to remind me I can still feel.”

Each line dropped like stones into a lake Miyeon didn’t even realize he had within him filled with confusion, betrayal, hurt. At first, he thought he had misheard. But there was no mistaking it. His father wasn’t just talking about you. He was feeling something for you.

Miyeon’s jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. He didn’t know whether to burst into the room or disappear into the night. His legs felt numb, but his heart, his heart burned.

He had loved you. Maybe not perfectly, but in a way he did. And you had walked away without a reason. No explanation. Just silence and a smile that screams goodbye. Now it made sense. Now it hurts in a different way.

Without making a sound, Miyeon stepped back from the door. His eyes looked colder now, but not from hatred, just from the shock of a son realizing he might’ve lost more than just a girl. He turned and walked back to his room, closing the door softly behind him. For the rest of the night no one in that house slept soundly.

A soft knock echoed down the hallway. Jungkook, seated on the edge of his bed again, looked up at the sound. The door was still slightly open, and when he turned his head, he saw Miyeon standing outside his room, just standing, not moving, not looking at him. Just staring at the ground. Jungkook stood slowly. “Miyeon,” he said gently, “do you want something ?”

Miyeon’s eyes flickered toward his father, unreadable. There was something different in his posture, not angry, not broken. Just quiet, too quiet. “I didn’t know what to say,” Miyeon murmured after a long silence.

Jungkook stepped closer. “Then say it now.” Another silence. Heavy, filled with thoughts, Miyeon wasn’t sure how to word. “I just…” Miyeon exhaled. “I was standing outside your room last night because I thought you might be hurting. Missing mom.”

“I always do,” Jungkook replied softly.

Miyeon nodded, then looked up, straight into his father’s eyes. “But you weren’t just talking about her. You were talking about Y/N.”

Jungkook blinked, unsure whether to speak or listen. He chose the latter. Miyeon let out a breath through his nose, a bitter laugh. “At first I was confused. Then I was angry. I kept asking myself if I misheard. If I misunderstood. But I didn’t, did I?”

Jungkook didn’t try to deny it. “No,” he answered quietly. “You didn’t.”

Miyeon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “How long?”

“There was never a thing between us,” Jungkook said quickly, firmly. “Not a line crossed. Not once. But feelings, don’t always ask permission before they arrive.”

Miyeon nodded again, slowly this time. “So that’s why she left me. Not because she stopped loving me, but because she was trying not to love you.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. His silence was confirmation enough.

“I should hate you,” Miyeon said, his voice thickening. “But I don’t. I’m just tired. Tired of pretending I’m okay. Tired of feeling like everyone leaves and no one explains why, mom left me too and so did yn.”

“I didn’t mean to take anything from you,” Jungkook said, his voice almost breaking. “Especially not her.”

Miyeon’s eyes held an unreadable resentment, sadness, and even acceptance. “You didn’t take her,” he said. “I think she is already gone. From me, at least.”

Then, with nothing more to add, Miyeon turned to leave. But before walking away, he paused and added quietly, without looking back, “If you really care about her, don’t let the guilt kill you before you even try.”

And then he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Jungkook standing there conflicted, heavy-hearted, and more sure of what he felt than ever before.

—

Few Weeks later :

Jungkook stood frozen in the doorway, heart slamming against his ribs. Miyeon’s room was a mess of half-zipped duffle bags, strewn clothes. The sight alone was enough to ignite panic deep in Jungkook’s chest. “Miyeon” he breathed out. “What are you doing?”

Miyeon looked up from where he was folding a hoodie and smiled softly. “Don’t panic, dad.”

Jungkook took a cautious step inside, eyes scanning the luggage, the tickets on the bed. “Why are you packing?”

Miyeon zipped up one of the bags and turned toward his father. “Remember that scholarship I mentioned? The one I applied for and you said ‘don’t get your hopes up, just do your best��?”

Jungkook nodded slowly, still unsure where this was going. “Well,” Miyeon exhaled, holding up a paper with a proud grin, “turns out your useless son isn’t that useless after all. I got it.”

Jungkook stared, blinking. “You, got it?”

Miyeon chuckled, his tone warm and a little smug. “Full ride. Abroad. Six months of intense research work, project mentorship, the whole deal. I wanted to surprise you, so… here I am.”

Jungkook’s heart lifted and ached all at once. “Miyeon, that’s…God, that’s amazing.”

His voice cracked with pride. But there was also something else beneath it, fear and worry. Miyeon tilted his head, noticing the flicker of emotion in his father’s face. “You okay?”

Jungkook stepped closer, gently gripping his son's shoulder. “I’m proud of you. So proud. I just, I didn’t expect it to be so soon. I didn’t know you were even close to getting it.”

Miyeon looked down for a second before softly saying, “I needed space, dad.” That landed heavy between them. Jungkook didn’t try to fill the silence with excuses or apologies. He just nodded. “I understand.”

Miyeon looked up again, eyes clearer now. “I’m not running away, okay? I just need to figure out who I am without everything weighing me down. You, her, this house, it’s too much right now.”

Jungkook swallowed hard and nodded again. “Just promise you’ll call. Let me know you’re okay.”

Miyeon’s smile returned, softer this time. “ I will Dad .” They stood there for a long moment, father and son, surrounded by baggage both physical and invisible. Then Jungkook pulled him in for a hug. One they both needed more than they realized. They slowly pulled away a knowing smile on both.

Then Miyeon zipped the last of his bags and slung his backpack over one shoulder, glancing around his room like he was trying to remember it just as it was. Jungkook stood quietly, watching, unsure whether to speak again, still trying to process the shift between them.

Miyeon turned to him, gaze softer now. “Dad…” Jungkook met his eyes.

“I lost her because of my own stupidity,” Miyeon said, not bitter, just honest. “When I first saw her, she was beautiful. Like, really beautiful. Someone I could have on my arm and show off, someone I thought would make me look good.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed a little, sensing the weight behind his son’s confession.

“I didn’t know her,” Miyeon continued, his voice quiet. “Not really. And when I started realizing she liked a different kind of person, someone gentle, someone thoughtful, I panicked. I pretended to be that. Faked the softness. Faked the listening. I didn’t even try to be better. I just tried to appear better.”

Jungkook stayed silent, not because he didn’t want to respond, but because this moment belonged to Miyeon.

“She saw through me eventually,” Miyeon said with a sad smile. “She’s smart. Too good for what I gave her. And I hurt her. Badly.” He looked away for a second, then back up at his father. “If you ever see her again, tell her I’m sorry. Not the sorry people say to ease their guilt. I mean the kind that comes from knowing you broke something that was never yours to break.”

Jungkook looked stunned, but Miyeon chuckled softly. “Don’t look so surprised, dad.” Then, with a half-smile, he added, “Don’t stop your feelings for me. Chase her. You hear me?” Jungkook’s breath caught.

“She’s hurting without you,” Miyeon said, eyes steady. “I could tell when she left. That wasn’t peace, that was her running from something too big to handle. You were never the problem.”

“I thought maybe it would be selfish,” Jungkook finally whispered. “To even feel anything for her.”

“It would be selfish,” Miyeon said, slinging his bag over both shoulders, “if you let it die with guilt instead of living it with care. Be better to her than I was.

—

The drive back from the airport was quiet. Jungkook kept one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting near the gear, fingertips absently brushing against the edge of the wallet in the cupholder.

His mind replayed the conversation with Miyeon, over and over. "Don’t stop your feelings for me, dad. Chase her."

Jungkook exhaled, a small chuckle escaped his lips. “He grew up,” he whispered to the empty car. “God, he really grew up.”

He parked the car in front of the house. The moment he stepped inside, the silence of the house felt different. Not hollow but full of something new, a new beginning & Hope.

In the quiet, Jungkook sat on the edge of the couch, pulling out his wallet. Inside, tucked carefully between an old receipt and a faded note, was a photo.

His late wife. Smiling, holding baby Miyeon close to her chest. Her eyes held a calmness he could still remember like yesterday. He stared at the picture for a long time, thumb brushing over her face.

“Our son…” Jungkook’s voice was hoarse, low. “He grew up the way you wanted him to.”

His eyes stung a little, but he didn’t cry. “He’s not perfect,” Jungkook went on, a small smile forming on his lips, “but he’s learning. He’s trying. And he’s kind. God, you’d be proud of how kind he is.”

He leaned back against the sofa, still holding the picture, and closed his eyes for a moment. “You always said he’d surprise me.”

The memory of her voice echoed in his head—“He’ll find his way, Jungkook. Even if it’s not through you.”

And she was right. He looked up toward the ceiling, eyes soft, filled with a strange peace. “You gave me two miracles in this life. One was him… and the other…”

He stopped for a second, the image of you flashing in his mind, standing by the  River, voice steady and eyes sad, saying everything he never expected to hear.

“The other one I got to know from miyeon… I let her go,” he whispered. But not again. Not this time.

—

The city was alive behind you, cars passing, couples laughing, a child crying over a dropped ice cream, but your little bench by the water remained untouched by the world’s chaos. Every Friday, without fail, you return here. To think, to breathe.

Today was no different except the ache in your chest felt deeper and heavier. The kind that settled into your bones and refused to be ignored.

You hugged your coat closer, the wind teasing strands of hair across your face, and let your eyes scan the slow-moving river. It looked so peaceful. So sure of its direction. You envied that.

Your mind wandered back, back to the months with Miyeon. The way he had smiled too easily. Said the right things too quickly. Held your hand but never truly saw you. It wasn’t dramatic; it wasn’t cruel either it was just… hollow.

And then, unexpectedly, in the cracks he left behind, there was Jungkook. His voice calm and gentle. His eyes never judging. Always listening.

You remembered the first time he’d walked past you here, nodding politely as if you were just another stranger by the water. You remembered how, over time, he stopped being a stranger at all. How your heartbeat had betrayed you when he looked at you too long. How guilt gnawed at you for feeling more in a single conversation with him than in all the months with Miyeon.

You pressed your lips together, blinking rapidly as your throat tightened. Maybe you were a bad person for it or maybe not. You tilted your head up, eyes closed for a second, whispering under your breath, “ God, Why did it have to be you…”

And just as those words left your mouth, A familiar voice behind you broke the silence. “Because maybe… it was always supposed to be me.”

Your breath caught. Slowly, you turned. There he was, Jungkook. Standing just like he did that first day, only this time, not walking past. Not avoiding what hung between you. His eyes met yours, soft but certain. There's no hesitation, no guilt. Only a man looking at the woman he could no longer stay away from.

You stared at him. He looked different, like something had shifted since the last time you saw him. Softer, yet more resolute. Like he’d made peace with something, or maybe decided he no longer wanted to run from what he felt. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Jungkook stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours. He nodded at the empty space beside you on the bench. “May I?”

You gave a small nod, swallowing hard as he slowly sat next to you, keeping a respectful distance but close enough that you could feel his presence. Neither of you spoke. Not right away. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was loud. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

 You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. So many things swirled in your mind, but all that left your lips was— “I come here every Friday.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened. “I know,” he said quietly. “I came… hoping maybe you still would.”

You turned to him, brows drawn slightly. “Why?”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before speaking. “Because I needed to see you. I needed to tell you that… I heard everything. That night. What you said.”

Your stomach twisted. Shame flickered in your chest. “I didn’t mean for you to—”

“I’m glad I did,” he interrupted gently. “Because it gave me the truth. The one you were carrying alone.”

You looked away, blinking hard. “I never wanted to ruin anything. Especially not your family.”

“You didn’t,” he said, firm yet soft. “If anything… you helped it heal.”

You turned back to him slowly, eyes meeting his. Jungkook leaned just slightly closer, voice low but unshaking.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because you were hurting. I fell in love with you because you saw me, not as Miyeon’s father, not as someone broken by loss… just as me.”

Your breath caught again, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“And you,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper, “are the second chance life gave me when I wasn’t even asking for one.”

A tear slipped down your cheek.

“I tried to stay away,” you admitted. “I thought it was the right thing. But every Friday, I’d end up here. Thinking about you.”

Jungkook reached out, slowly, and brushed that single tear away. “I’m here now,” he said softly. “And I’m not going to walk past you again.” Your breath hitched as Jungkook’s fingers lingered briefly against your cheek, warm, grounding. 

Your heart was loud, too loud. But instead of pulling away, you tilted your head toward him just slightly, eyes glossy, lips parted with unsaid emotions.

 “I’m scared,” you whispered. “Not because of you but because I don’t know how to be something… forbidden.”

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re not,” he said gently. “You’re not forbidden. You’re honest. You walked away when it hurt the most. You didn’t cross the line, I did, the moment I started thinking of you when I shouldn’t have.”

You let out a shaky breath, laughing bitterly. “We sound like a sad movie.”

He smiled, it was tender, boyish, like he hadn’t smiled like that in years. “Then let’s rewrite the ending.”

He stood slowly and offered you his hand. You hesitated only a second before taking it. It was so simple, fingers laced like a long-lost fit. No tension. No guilt. Just warmth.

The two of you walked along the path beside the river, footsteps quiet against the gravel. The silence between you now was soft, soothing, no longer heavy. After a while, he spoke.

“I still remember the day you said, ‘Life goes on for the living, Mr. Jeon.’”

You looked up at him. “Your wife said that too… didn’t she?” He nodded, a small smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “All the time.”

You thought he might say more. But instead, he stopped walking and turned to face you, gently pulling you into the moment. “And now here I am,” he said, “trying to live again. Because of you.”

You finally stepped forward. Slowly, you reached up and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing along the slight stubble he never bothered shaving on weekends. His eyes closed for a second under your touch, like he was memorizing it.

 “I missed you,” you whispered. Jungkook opened his eyes again, those warm brown eyes staring right through you. He leaned in cautiously, and reverently, and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I missed us… even if we never really got the chance to be us.”

Your fingers loosely intertwined with his. The world was calm. The weight on your chest felt lighter than it had in weeks, maybe even months. Jungkook broke the silence first.

“You know…” he started, voice low, thumb gently brushing the back of your hand, “Miyeon asked me to tell you something.”

You turned to him slowly, your heart giving a little twist at the mention of his son.

“He said he was sorry,” Jungkook continued. “For lying to you. For pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He said he saw you as someone beautiful, someone to show off but he didn’t know how to be the kind of man you actually needed.” Your breath hitched.

Jungkook looked out at the water, like he was replaying the moment in his mind. “He laughed a little when he said it. Told me, ‘Don’t stop your feelings for her, Dad. She’s hurting without you. I’ll be fine.’”

Your eyes filled with quiet tears. “He really said that?”

Jungkook looked at you, smiling softly. “Yeah. And he meant it. I think… that was the moment I realized how much he’s grown. And how much you helped him do that.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to hurt him. I never did.”

“I know,” Jungkook said. “And he knows too.” Jungkooks words carried with it a strange peace.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For telling me. For… everything.” He squeezed your hand a little, leaning closer.

“No,” he murmured. “Thank you… for giving us both the chance to become better.”

You and Jungkook didn’t begin with love. You began with silence, misunderstandings, wounds that weren’t yours to carry, and a goodbye that was never really final. But life has its way of circling back.

He found you again not as his son’s ex, not as someone tangled in guilt but as the woman who saw him when he thought no one ever would. And you saw him as not the perfect man, not the father or the widower but the man who listened, who remembered, who showed up even when it hurt.

Miyeon left with an understanding he didn’t have before, his apology gave you closure, and his acceptance gave Jungkook freedom.

And now, there’s no more pretending.No more secrets. No more stolen glances across lines that once felt forbidden. Just two people, Still healing, Still learning. But finally, not alone.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — megumi fushiguro: distracted !

megumi fushiguro x reader ⭑ fluff / drabble likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: this was sitting in my drafts for forever!!

wc: 553

megumi fushiguro wasn’t one to get easily distracted, but you had a talent for bending his focus in your direction without even trying.

the two of you sat on the steps of a quiet park, the fading sunlight spilling golden rays over the grass. the breeze carried a hint of jasmine, and your laughter echoed softly in the stillness. you'd been recounting some funny story from earlier in the week, your hands moving animatedly as you spoke.

megumi, on the other hand, hadn’t heard a word.

he tried. he really did. but the way the light hit your face, highlighting the curve of your smile, was impossible to ignore. there was a brightness in your eyes that seemed to draw him in, and he felt like the world around him had blurred into irrelevance.

“megumi?” you called, tilting your head.

he blinked, realizing you’d stopped speaking. “hm?”

“are you even listening?” you teased, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.

he cleared his throat, looking away to hide the warmth creeping up his neck. “yeah, of course.”

“oh really?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “then what was i saying?”

megumi's silence was answer enough, and you laughed, leaning forward to lightly nudge his shoulder.

“you're hopeless,” you said, though there was no malice in your tone.

“sorry,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “i guess i got… distracted.”

“by what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

he hesitated, his eyes flickering to yours before darting away. “nothing. it's not important.”

your gaze softened, and you leaned a little closer, your voice dropping to a gentle murmur. “you can tell me, you know.”

megumi's breath caught. you always had this way of breaking through his defenses, of making him feel safe even when his own thoughts felt too heavy to share.

“it's just… you,” he admitted quietly, his words barely audible.

your eyes widened slightly. “me?”

he nodded, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. “you're distracting. in a good way, i mean.”

a soft laugh escaped your lips, and you reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “i'll take that as a compliment.”

megumi looked up then, meeting your eyes. for a moment, the world seemed to pause, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“you should,” he said simply, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest.

as the evening wore on, the two of you stayed there on the steps, the conversation flowing easily between moments of quiet. megumi found himself relaxing in your presence, the usual tension in his shoulders easing with every passing minute.

at some point, you shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder. he froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat, but when he glanced down at you, your eyes were closed, a peaceful smile on your lips.

he let out a soft sigh, leaning his head slightly against yours.

the warmth of your presence, the gentle weight of your head on his shoulder; it was overwhelming in the best way. megumi wasn’t good with words, but he hoped you could feel everything he couldn’t quite say in the way he stayed by your side, in the quiet way he let himself melt into you.

because for once, he didn’t mind being distracted.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[pyract0]

Random thoughts with hsr men: shower edition

☪Includes: Dan heng, Jing yuan, Blade, Aventurine, Sunday, Sampo + bonus ☪This is so unserious but I had some thoughts for it. Slowly gets more chaotic as it goes. ☪No defined gender or pronouns, referred to as "you", nothing explicit just fluff

୨♡୧ Dan heng who sets the shower temperature to only cold water, as low as it can go. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who due to his species being connected to the sea, has a lower tolerance to higher temperatures. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who happens to forget you aren't like him, being able to comfortably enjoy the warmth, drags you in to the near freezing flow. ୨♡୧ Dan heng who is then forced to try and shower while you cling to his side and use him for heat, but can't find it in himself to complain as he pulls you impossibly closer to his chest.

-`♡´- Jing yuan who unlike his old friend, has his showers unbearable hot. -`♡´- Jing yuan who watches you try and get a tolerance for his temperature preference, while chuckling at your pained yelps. -`♡´- Jing yuan who sits on the floor of the shower (you took away his stool privileges) while you spend a bit too long tying to wash through his mane of hair. -`♡´- Jing yuan who falls asleep in the shower and refuses to wake until you finish, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead as a thank you for your hard work.

♱✮♱ Blade who doesn't see a point in regular showers around his long life and missions that span on for up to months at a time. ♱✮♱ Blade who only agreed to shower with you after you dragged him in, glaring at you as his bangs flop over his eyes. ♱✮♱ Blade who stands in the corner for most of the time while you shower, with you forcefully washing his hair and detangling it. ♱✮♱ Blade who the whole time acts like he hates it with his whole being, but he can't hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth listening to you talk his ear off in such an intimate area.

♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who takes his self care very seriously, making sure the water is set to the perfect temperature to benefit his skin and hair. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who spends a long time on every step in his routine, only the best for him as he would say. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who helps you to do the same, taking his time to rinse your hair over and over with each product he applies. ♠︎♦️♠︎ Aventurine who finally finishes after you've sat on the floor resting against his leg or the wall for over half a system hour, pulling you up and helping you dry off while he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your shoulder.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who enjoys these intimate moments with you the most, just a simple time to unwind and relax with you without interruption. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who spends a long time scrubbing your scalp for you while letting you return the favour for his wings, having you shampoo the soft feathers with the upmost care. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who, much like a bird, shakes his wings to remove the excess water build up, and who accidently flicks soap into your eyes on more than one occasion. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Sunday who can't help but laugh at your misery as you forcefully rub your eyes until they're red, but as an apology cradles your face in his soft hands and places a loving kiss on your lips as an apology.

𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who often needs you to remind him to shower, having you pull him from whatever he's doing at a decent time. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who sometimes is a bit slow, stepping into the running shower just to have you force him out in disgust upon realising he wore still had his now damp socks on. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who sometimes gets distracted while talking to you and slips on the soapy floor, landing flat on his ass and whining into your leg after clutching onto it. 𓆩⚝𓆪 Sampo who after your shower, hangs off your back like a leech and pampers you with kisses for being an angel and helping him, who only stops when you smack him with your towel so you can finally dry off.

Bonus:

• ➵ ✩ Boothill who got the idea of showering together from hearing couples talk about it, finally making the move after seeing your drowsy figure and sluggish actions walk past him. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who was ecstatic at the opportunity, practically dragging you to your shared bathroom and giving you a sharkish grin. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who didn't think of how... shocking your shower together might have been, completely forgetting about his cyborg anatomy. • ➵ ✩ Boothill who sits next to you after getting healed for your electrothermal burns, rubbing his face against your chest like a cat and looking like he'd start crying if that was even possible for him anymore, only meeting your eyes after you place a kiss to his crown and let him know you're okay.

ׂ╰┈➤ Note Longer fic for Jing yuan, Sunday and Boothill here!

[daryltwdixon]

Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee II

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

warnings: some plot mostly smut 18+ MDNI

notes: this fic takes place in fantasy land where pinv doesn't end up in pregnancy ok thank you have a nice day. wrap it up in real life ok? im obsessed with this pre-outbreak Joel. I feel like I read & edited this til my eyes were bleeding, please lmk if you find mistakes

The evening rush had just died down when Joel walked through the door of the coffee shop again that day, his presence filling the small space. It felt easier, more relaxed now that he’d gotten used to coming around more. 

You glanced up from wiping down the counters, already feeling the exhaustion from a long shift settling into your bones.

“I thought we were meeting later?” you asked, arching a brow as you tossed the rag over your shoulder.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter, arms crossed, his hazel eyes flicking over you—messy apron, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly frizzed from the long day.

“Figured I’d pick you up,” he said, ever casual. “Walk you out.”

You let out a small groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “But I smell like coffee and milk and—” you sniffed your sleeve dramatically, “—probably cleaning supplies. Real cute first date material.”

Joel smirked, one hand rubbing along his jaw. “Well, I smell like sweat and sawdust, so maybe it’ll cancel out.”

You snorted. “If you say so,”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to suffer through it together.”

That made you smile, warmth creeping up your neck despite yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dipping a little softer. “Second date, I’ll take you somewhere fancy. But tonight, I got somewhere I think you’ll like,”

You swallowed, your heart giving a little unexpected flutter. A second date. Meaning he had plans on seeing you way more than just for one night. And damn did you like the sound of that.

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be more put out than you actually were as you untied your apron. “But if I smell like an espresso machine all night, that’s on you,.”

Joel just chuckled, stepping back to let you close up.

You expected him to take you to some hole-in-the-wall diner or maybe just grab a quick bite somewhere. But instead, he walked with you down the quieter streets of the small downtown, until he stopped next to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant with a hand-painted sign and a cozy glow spilling from the windows.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t trying too hard—it was the kind of place people probably came to for years, passing it down like a family secret.

“You ever been here?” he asked as he held the door open.

You shook your head. “Didn’t even know it existed.”

The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you—the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering low, fresh bread baking, the low hum of conversation filling the intimate space. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the rustic wooden tables. A candle flickered at every one, pooling small halos of light between plates of pasta and glasses of deep red wine.

“You eat here a lot?” you asked him as he stepped in behind you.

Joel shook his head. “Did some work on the building a few years back. Owners fed me a few times.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Keep comin’ back when I can.”

As if on cue, an older man in a white apron emerged from the kitchen, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Joel. He walked straight up to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that made your brows lift.

“Miller!” the man greeted, grinning wide. He rattled something off in rapid, affectionate Italian, gesturing around the restaurant. Joel huffed out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Good to see you too, Sal,” Joel said.

Sal patted his shoulder again, his thick fingers pressing into the fabric of Joel’s shirt like he was testing its strength. "Still workin’ with that stronzo fratellino, eh?"

Joel chuckled. “You bet.”

Sal scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk. He was never as good with his hands as you.” He turned to you with a wink. “My best man here, best muratore in town! Fixed this place up when the siding was fallin’ off my dannata walls! Quick, clean—like an artista, eh?”

Sal laughed when Joel only shook his head, a red flush creeping up his face as he looked at you apologetically.

"Sit, sit! Please, eat whatever you like! I get you wine—" Sal finally let go of Joel, waving over the hostess with an urgency like he was hosting royalty.

“You’re quite the celebrity, Joel,” you teased, glancing up at him as the two of you followed behind to your table.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I promise I didn’t bring you here for that—the food’s just real good,”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, amused, as the hostess stopped at a cozy table by the window.

Sal came back over with a bottle of wine, winking at you before heading back toward the kitchen. “Enjoy dinner, eh?”

You watched him go, then turned back to Joel, arching a brow. “So, you’re with your hands, huh?” remembering what the man said a few minutes ago.

Joel picked up the menu and hid his face. “Don’t start.”

You bit your lip, amused, and looked down at your own menu.

The dinner itself was nice.

The kind of nice that snuck up on you, unfolding in a way that felt natural, easy, like you’d done this a dozen times before.

Joel was quiet, soft spoken, but asked a lot of questions. Not just the polite kind, but ones with weight, ones that made you pause before answering. He wanted to know how you got into coffee—if it was something you always loved, or if it just happened. What made you decide to open your own shop instead of working somewhere else. If you liked being your own boss, if it was worth the stress.

And he listened, really listened, nodding as you spoke, his hazel eyes steady on you. Every now and then, he’d ask something that made you stop and think, something no one had ever really asked before.

“You ever picture yourself doin’ anything else?” he asked at one point, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I guess I never thought about it. The shop is mine. My whole world’s kind of wrapped up in it.”

Joel hummed, watching you carefully. “But it makes you happy.” It wasn’t quite a question, but more an observation. 

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you answered with a smile, then tilted your head. “What about you? Do you like what you do?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, thinking. “Don’t know if anyone likes workin’,” he admitted, then nodded a thanks to the waiter as he set down your meals. “But can’t think of anythin’ else I’d be doin’. Ain’t the type to be sittin’ in a stuffy cubicle and all.”

You smirked, picking up your fork. “Oh, I don’t know… I think you’d look real nice in a suit and tie.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he cut into his food. “Yeah? And what, you see me sittin’ at some fancy desk, makin’ phone calls all day?”

“I dunno,” you teased, shrugging. “Something about you in a tie just works for me.”

Joel shot you a look, amused, before taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll show up to your shop one day in one, just to surprise ya,”

“Oh, that’ll be the day,” you giggle. 

The rest of dinner went by too quickly for your liking.

Joel told you about the different jobs he’d done over the years—how he liked working with his hands, how there was something satisfying about building something solid, something that would last. There was a quiet kind of pride in his voice, nothing boastful, just a man who knew the value of hard work, of making something real.

In return, you traded stories about your most memorable customers—the regulars, the weird orders like the ones who asked for 50 different flavors in one iced coffee. Joel countered with tales of difficult clients, stubborn contractors, and one particularly bad job where a homeowner swore they knew more about construction than he did.

And when Joel chuckled at a particularly funny story, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, you began to realize—God, you liked seeing him like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked being here with you, too.

And before you knew it, the waiter was coming by with the check, and the night was ending far sooner than you wanted.

The evening air was warm as you stepped out of the restaurant, your cheeks still flushed from the wine and the lingering glow of good company. Sal had insisted on treating you both with large helpings of his homemade tiramisu—claiming you couldn’t leave until you were properly fed.

Joel had muttered something about not needing dessert, but you’d watched him polish off his plate without complaint.

Outside, the street was quiet, the warm light of the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk as the door swung shut behind you.

“That man is dangerous,” you groaned, placing a hand over your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

Joel huffed out a small laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Could’ve said no.”

You scoffed. “And risk offending him? No way. I’d be blacklisted for life.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head before glancing around. “Where’s your car?”

You blinked up at him. “Oh, I walked.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “You walk to work?”

“I live close by,” you shrugged.

Joel exhaled sharply, already looking like he was making up his mind, “Let me drive you—”

“Oh, no, it’s really okay—”

“I insist,” he said, and before you could argue, his hand found the small of your back.

Heat shot through you, electric despite how warm and gentle his palm was. You exhaled, smiling, and knew there was no point in arguing. Not when he was looking at you like that—stern, certain in a caring sort of way. So you didn’t fight it.

He walked beside you, his stride slow, deliberate. The night air was perfect with summer warmth and a cooling breeze, the quiet hum of the city stretching out around you, but you couldn't help the way that everything else had narrowed down to him—the sound of his boots against the pavement, the occasional brush of his hand near yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not quite touching.

He made a little conversation, but he was quieter now, more thoughtful. He asked about your family, where they were, if they ever came to visit. If you had much of a life outside of the shop or if it kept you too busy.

You answered easily, finding that with him, it was just...easy.

Joel didn’t fill the silence just to talk—he let it linger, let you breathe, let it settle into something comfortable, something that felt like it had always been there. 

By the time you reached his truck, you realized just how much you liked that about him. And how much you liked him.

Joel reached for the handle, about to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

But then he hesitated. His fingers curled around the handle, but he didn’t pull. Instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his jaw ticking as he turned to look at you.

His gaze flickered—your eyes, your mouth, then back again—just in time for you to feel it, that slow-building heat simmering between you.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then his hands were on you.

One at your waist, the other coming up to cradle your jaw, his rough thumb sweeping over your cheek as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of weight that sent your heart slamming into your ribs.

The breath hitched in your throat, and for a second—just a second—you forgot how to do anything but feel.

It was slow but heavy and intentional, like he’d spent all night trying to fight the urge and finally gave in. He kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. It was steady, claiming, not the kind of frantic desperation you’d expect from someone who couldn’t hold back.

No, Joel took his damn time.

His lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, pulling you further into him. His hand slipped from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, holding you exactly where he wanted as he kissed you again, his tongue venturing past your lips, sliding along yours in a way that made you turn molten.

You gasped softly, pressing closer, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto because God—he was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel groaned low in his throat, like he’d finally let himself indulge, like this was something he’d been starving for. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you until your back hit the truck, his body bracketing yours against the cool metal, broad and solid and so damn warm.

“You gonna open the door or what?” you teased breathlessly, between kisses, your lips brushing against his.

Joel huffed, his nose dragging along your cheek. “You in some kinda hurry?” Joel’s lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing down the column of your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin, each one making you melt further into him.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, and Joel chuckled low against your neck, his breath hot. “Didn’t answer my question.”

You barely remembered what he asked. Your brain was fogged, drowning in the way he felt against you, the way his body crowded yours against the truck, solid and warm.

“No,” you managed, voice breathless. “No hurry.”

“Good to hear,” Joel muttered.

And then, in one fluid motion, he scooted you over, swung the door open, and hooked an arm around your waist—lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. A startled gasp left your lips as he set you down onto the worn leather seat of his truck before you could even process the shift.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Joel climbed in after you, the door shutting with a heavy thunk, sealing you both inside. The space between you was nonexistent—all heat, all him, his presence pressing into you, crowding you in the best way.

You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that it was dark, that Joel’s truck had tinted windows, because none of it would’ve stopped you anyway. Not when you were already leaning back into him, your fingers trailing up, brushing over the scruff along his jaw.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling, anchoring himself as he kissed you deeper, tilting his head to taste you fully. His other hand found your jaw, rough fingertips dragging over your skin, tilting your face toward him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You sighed against his mouth, pressing closer, nails scratching lightly against the denim of his jeans. He groaned, low and deep, swallowing the sound. Then, suddenly, his grip shifted, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap. 

A breath hitched in your throat, hands bracing against his broad chest as your knees pressed into the seat on either side of him. The new position had you flush against him, heat radiating between you, the space inside the truck growing impossibly small.

Joel’s eyes flickered up to yours, searching, giving you a chance to stop this before it went any further.

But you didn’t want to stop. So you kissed him again. Deeper. Hungrier.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs, rough palms trailing over denim now, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. His mouth was hot, insistent, kissing you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of you, the way you sighed his name when he tilted his head to deepen it.

“I don’t usually—” you began, panting as you broke from the kiss for just a moment, lips still brushing his. “I don’t usually do this on a first date, just so you know.”

“Me neither,” Joel muttered quickly, voice rough, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers laced through your hair, tangling at the base of your neck as he pulled you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear.

His other hand trailed down, squeezing at your waist before gripping the waistband of your jeans. His fingers dipped just under the fabric, teasing, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Think you can get these off for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

Your breath caught, “H-here?”

Joel huffed, smirking just a little, his thumb brushing back and forth over the waistband, slow and teasing. “Ain’t nobody around. Just us.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady, certain. “Unless you really wanna stop.”

He was giving you another chance to pull away, to tell him no, and you knew if you said the word, he’d back off immediately.

But hell no. You shook your head, breathless. “No. No stopping.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, approval flashing in his darkened gaze. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the button of your jeans, fumbling slightly. Joel exhaled a soft chuckle, amused but patient, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat as his hands ran up and down your thighs, steadying you.

You finally got the zipper down, lifting your hips slightly as you started pushing them down, but Joel’s hands took over, firm and unhurried, hooking his fingers under the waistband and dragging them down your legs in one slow, smooth motion.

The second the denim was gone, his hands ran back up your bare thighs, gripping at the flesh of your ass, his gaze locked on you like he needed to commit this to memory.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked, pupils blown wide as he devoured you with his eyes. “Knew you had a great ass—couldn’t stop starin’ at it this mornin’.”

A flush spread through your body at his words, pooling low in your belly, but you could barely focus, too wrapped up in him, in the way he felt beneath you. Despite his claim earlier that he smelled like sweat and sawdust, you thought he smelled addicting—pure masculine heat, sweat and musk, with the faintest hint of whatever cologne or deodorant still clung to his skin. It was him, and it made you dizzy.

Heat curled low in your belly, especially when he tugged you down against him, pressing you right where you needed him, letting you feel all of him—hard, thick, pressing into the thin barrier of your panties.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, and that sound did something to him.

“Oh, you make the sweetest little noises, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked you against him, his hands guiding your hips so you could feel just how much he wanted you.

His lips found your neck again, kissing, nipping, working their way lower, and you whimpered when they reached your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of your top.

“Think I wanna see more of you,” Joel muttered, voice thick and rough like gravel. His hands dragged up your sides, thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs. “Lift your arms for me.”

And you did—because you wanted more too. Needed it.

Joel peeled your top off slowly, taking his time, hissing when your bare skin was revealed beneath the dim light filtering through the truck’s fogged windows. His hands ghosted over you, calloused fingertips brushing along your collarbone, down to the tops of your breasts, his eyes dark as they devoured you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his rough fingers slipping beneath the band of your bra, teasing. You squirmed in his lap, eager, desperate for something, arching into his touch.

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, his lips curling as his fingers came up to pull the cups of your bra down and began palming your breasts in both hands, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“That feel good, baby?” he rasped, watching your reaction as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, circling, teasing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Joel smirked, then pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. You moaned, head tipping back, arching into his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in, dragging his lips down the exposed column of your throat, over your collarbone. Then he licked along the swell of your breast before finally closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking slow and deep.

You gasped, gripping his hair, your hips instinctively grinding down against him. The friction sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly, the hard line of him pressing right against you.

Joel groaned against your skin, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before switching to the other, giving it the same slow, torturous attention.

“Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against him again, the need in you growing unbearable. 

He hummed, his hands sliding down, gripping your ass, grinding you down harder against him, “You’re so needy, baby,” he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “Bet you’re already drippin’ for me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, panting, whimpering, grinding against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s hand slipped between you, his fingers slipping to cup your covered mound, feeling the dampness that had seeped through the fabric. He sucked in air through his teeth as his fingers pressed firmly, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This all for me?” he teased, “Huh?”

You gasped when his fingers would press and sometimes skim along your bare skin, running along the lace, teasing, pressing just enough to make your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathed, writhing against him, desperate for more.

Joel hummed approvingly, slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers spreading through your slick folds, teasing your clit before dipping lower, barely pushing inside.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough. “Takin’ my fingers so easy.”

You moaned, body shuddering as he continued to rub gentle circles around your clit before finally pushing two fingers inside, stretching you just enough to make your breath catch in your lungs. Joel groaned, watching you, drinking in every sound, every gasp, his fingers working slow and deep, curling just right to have your whole body shaking.

Your hips rocked into his hand, grinding against the heel of his palm, pleasure building fast, coiling tight in your belly. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles that had your legs trembling around his hips.

“You gonna come for me, already, sweetheart?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on my fingers before I fuck you?”

You gasped, “Yes, yes–” your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body locking up as the coil snapped in your belly, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cried out, coming hard against his hand.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward to kiss your sweaty skin, feeling the way you pulsed around his fingers, his cock twitching hard beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light. You stopped breathing as he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slow over his fingers. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, like he was ruined by the taste of you.

Once he licked his fingers clean, he brought them to your lips and rasped, “Open,”

A wicked smile crossed your lips as you parted them obediently, letting him slide his fingers onto your tongue. Joel groaned low in his throat, watching you intently, his pupils blown wide as your lips closed around his digits.

You didn’t just take them—you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue teasing along his fingertips, slow and deliberate.

Joel’s smirk fell as his whole body tensed beneath you, muscles going taut as his free hand dug into your hip, hard, like he was barely hanging on. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, and suddenly, his slick fingers left your mouth, his hand moving to your throat—firm but careful—pulling you down to him, kissing you again. It was hungry, needy, open and wet, all tongue and heat, like he had to taste you again, like the last few minutes of teasing had finally broken something in him.

You moaned against his mouth, shifting in his lap, feeling the thick, solid length of him pressing right where you needed it most. Joel hissed at the friction, his fingers tightening on your waist.  Then his hands moved, gripping your hips, holding you there as he worked open his belt, the soft clink of metal making your stomach tighten. The zipper came next, slow and deliberate, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. You watched as he freed himself, his thick cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and dangerous, his jaw tight with restraint, “Still want this baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his face, his neck, nipping and biting at his throat as his hands worked himself. You lifted yourself up to give him better access to you. “Want you so badly, Joel.”

He grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, so low and wrecked and needy for him. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, dragging them to the side. His other hand gripped his cock, dragging the tip through your slick pussy, teasing, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

“Joel—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint, positioning himself right at your entrance. “Go on. Take what you need.”

You didn’t hesitate, sinking down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch until he was seated deep inside you.

Joel’s head fell back against the headrest, his hands flying to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

“Jesus fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs tensing beneath you as he held himself still. “You’re—fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,"

You moaned, feeling every inch of him pulsing inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he rocked his hips up into you, and your head snapped up at the force, making you look up just in time to see a familiar face out the back window.

“Oh shit—Tommy.”

Joel’s entire body went rigid, “Please do not tell me you just—“

“No—Tommy,” you hissed, ducking down as far as you could, but it only added more friction, making Joel’s cock pulse inside you.

He grunted sharply, his fingers digging in harder to steady you, his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react to the way you just squeezed around him.

Then, a truck door slammed shut.

“Hey, ain’t this Joel’s?” Tommy’s voice rang out, just outside, “Thought he left hours ago,”

Joel’s eyes snapped open, wild and alert. In an instant, his arm shot out, slamming the lock button with a sharp click.

Your heart raced, your hands scrambling to tug your shirt back over your head as Joel shifted beneath you, one hand still firm on your waist, the other reaching toward the door controls.

“Is he in there?” Tommy muttered to himself. The sound of boots crunching against gravel got closer.

Joel rolled down the window—but only a few inches, just enough for Tommy to see his face and nothing else.

Joel’s expression was thunderous. “The fuck do you want?”

Tommy’s brows raised. “Damn, hello to you too,” he muttered, squinting between the tinted glass. “I been callin’ you. You never got back to the landscaper—”

Tommy blinked. His brows lifted slightly.

“Well, hell,” he said, smirking. “That the coffee shop girl?”

You, still catching your breath, gave a little nod, “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy grinned. “Joel never shuts up about your coffee.”

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Tommy’s smirk widened, shifting his weight onto one hip, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, you guys comin’ or what? Bout to head down to Jameson’s Bar down the street with some of the guys.”

The good thing was—from Tommy’s point of view—it probably just looked like a hot and heavy makeout session in the truck. He couldn’t see that Joel was, in fact, inside you. Your eyes flicked up to Joel’s face, still locked in frustration, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. And just because you could, just because you had to—you rocked your hips just a little. Joel choked on his own breath, his whole body seizing, his hands flying to your waist in warning. His eyes darted to you in a look that might kill you if you didn’t feel the betraying feeling of his cock twitch inside your cunt.

You bit your lip, eyes flicking down at Joel, voice sweet as honey, “Was just about to.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his fingers pinching your ass hard in retaliation. You yelped, causing your body to twist up and into him, and he had to swallow his groan.

Then, suddenly, Tommy’s expression shifted.

His eyes flicked between the both of you—Joel looking wrecked, breath uneven, a little too flushed for the cool evening breeze, and you, doing your best to keep your face neutral while subtly adjusting yourself in his lap.

Tommy’s head tilted. His mouth parted.

And then, slowly, a knowing smirk crept onto his face.

“No way,” he breathed, realization dawning. “You are not—”

“Tommy—” Joel ground out, voice low and warning.

But it was too late.

Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over, hands on his knees.

Joel exhaled sharply, hands twitching on your waist, his patience hanging by a thread. “Swear to God—”

You, on the other hand, were trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

Tommy finally straightened up, wiping at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Get outta here,” Joel said between his teeth.

Tommy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from the truck. “Hey, hey, I ain’t judgin’—I just never thought I’d see the day my big brother was gettin’ it on in a goddamn parking lot like a damn teenager.”

Joel groaned, glaring daggers at him. “You done?”

Tommy smirked, but started backing toward his truck. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He shot you a wink. “You take care now, darlin’.”

You smiled sweetly. “I will, Tommy.”

Joel huffed sharply, clearly done with this entire situation.

You kept an eye on Tommy as he finally slid into his truck, still shaking his head as he fired up the engine. Before he pulled away, he called out—

“Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!”

Joel slammed the window up before you could reply.

The second Tommy’s taillights disappeared down the road, Joel let out a long, deep breath, his grip on your waist still iron-tight.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You giggled, biting your lip, still settled in his lap, still pulsing around him.

Joel’s gaze snapped to you.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice thick, dark.

You blinked at him innocently, then, just to test him, you rolled your hips slowly, feeling his cock move deep inside you again. Both of you moaned at the feeling.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

“Mmm but you love it,” you smiled.

Joel growled, his patience finally snapping. His hands tightened, yanking you down against him, grinding your soaked heat over him slow and deep.

You gasped, your fingers flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he began to set a rhythm, his hips rocking up to meet yours, filling you over and over again.

“Fuckin' hell, girl,” Joel gritted out as your forehead dropped against his, “You love this, don’t you?”

You could barely breathe, pleasure pooling low and hot, winding tight in your belly, “Y-yes, feels s–s–so good,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster, chasing the high that had been aching inside you since the moment he first touched you.

Joel’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan that tore from your throat as his hips snapped up into you, deep and slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. You whimpered, fingers fisting in the shoulders of his shirt, clinging to him as the pleasure started to coil, winding tighter and tighter with every drag of his cock inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped, barely able to breathe, barely able to think beyond the feel of him filling you, stretching you, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

“That’s it, baby—just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, his arms wrapping around you as he rocked up to meet you.

You moved with him, rolling your hips, your body seeking more, chasing it, the friction and heat spiraling higher, hotter, pleasure building until it felt like you were seconds from snapping.

Joel must’ve felt it, the way you were trembling, the way your body clenched tighter around him, because his grip on you tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you closer, until—

“Come on now, hunny–you all talk or you really gonna cum?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. “Let me have it, wanna feel you.”

And that—his words, his voice, the command in it—was what undid you.

A sharp, wrecked moan tore from your lips as the pressure snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your whole body shuddering and twitching as you clenched tight around him, pulsing, shaking, coming undone in his lap.

Joel groaned loudly, his head tipping back against the headrest, his jaw tight, his breath shattering as he thrust up into you, once, twice—

And then he followed, his grip bruising on your body as he buried himself deep, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he came, spilling hot inside you, his whole body locking up before relaxing, spent, wrecked.

The truck fell into silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the sticky heat between you, the feel of his arms still gripping you, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a huffed-out chuckle against your chest. “Yeah.”

You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you moving, just breathing each other in, the moment settling between you.

Finally, Joel ran a slow, warm hand up your spine, his voice still gravelly when he spoke.

“So.” A beat. “We ain’t goin’ to Jameson’s, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Joel smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Good.”

[irisposts]

Bloodlines

summary | daemond needs to marry and you're at the top of his list.

pairing | daemond targaryen x (f)cousin!reader

wordcount | 1k

warnings | 18+, MINORS DNI!, very light smut

edited. i updated some of the valyrian!

You never expected your cousin to be here with you on your island of Valyria, much less dining at your table and feasting on your food. You watch as he takes another forkful, his plate nearly empty. He wipes his mouth with a cloth.

You barely touch your meal. The room feels small and intimate despite its grandeur. Heavy stone walls adorned with ancient Valyrian tapestries tell tales of dragons and conquest. While a large chandelier made of dragon bone casts a warm, golden glow across the table. The open doors allow a gentle breeze to drift in from the beach, the sound of waves crashing against the shore tightening the knot in your stomach.

You glance back at Daemon. He hasn’t changed much, though his silver-white hair is now cut short. The last time you saw him, it had fallen past his shoulders, but you find yourself liking this look more. It frames his sharp features, and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Daemon is dressed in deep, shadowy leathers, perfectly tailored to his lean form. You watch the silver clasps and embroidered dragons shimmer subtly in the low light.

Your own attire feels too revealing under his gaze. The soft, flowing fabric of your gown clings to you, draping in ways that accentuate every curve. Deep hues of blue and green—house colors—wrap around you like a second skin. The slight chill of the evening makes your exposed shoulders prickle beneath his watchful eyes.

“Is there something on your mind?” Daemon’s voice cuts through the air. Casual as he leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. “Cousin?”

You push your plate outward. Your attendant immediately steps forward to clear it.

“Leave us,” you command, your voice steady. The servant quickly departs, leaving only the two of you.

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment, memories swirling. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you.”

“Three, four years,” he replies with a lazy shrug, “give or take.”

You look away, a warmth growing across your cheeks. “Hm.” You lean back slightly, your fingers brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Daemon’s eyes sharpen, trailing over you in a way that makes the air you breathe feel heavier. “You have.”

A heavy silence settles in. The moment stretching out as his gaze lingers over you. 

“All grown up now,” he muses, his voice low, almost teasing. He takes another sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chew your lip for a moment, holding back your retort. “You didn’t come here just to visit after four years. A Valyrian steel dagger, no less. A fine gift, even for you.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound rich. “Can’t a man visit his family without suspicion?”

“You?” You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips pulling into a wry smile. “Never.”

His amusement deepens as he stands, his movements fluid, every step deliberate. He paces slowly around the table, fingers gliding across its surface. As he walks, his gaze briefly flicks upward to the ceiling. There lingering, is a painting of Valaryian lovers entwined beneath dragon wings.

“You always did see through the masks people wear. I admired that about you.”

He stops in front of you, his hand lifting as if to touch your chin, but you tilt your head away.

Your voice is steady as you speak. “What do you want, Daemon?”

He lowers his hand, though the smile doesn’t fade. “I must marry.”

A small grin tugs at your lips. “I’ve heard the rumors about you and Rhaenyra. If they’re true, why not her?”

Daemon’s smirk widens, amusement flickering in his eyes as he looks back at the ceiling. “Rumors,” he says softly, “are often more fun than the truth.”

His eyes lock onto yours, sharper now. “But you and I both know what strengthens Valyria.”

“Keeping the bloodline pure?” you offer, your voice firm but tinged with curiosity.

His silence answers you.

“Hm.” The sound escapes your lips as you push your chair back and rise. Standing so close, you feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning your face. 

Your hand presses against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his armor-like clothing. His hand finds your waist, gripping you with a possessive firmness. “What if I have eyes for another?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper-- the challenge clear.

Daemon’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he leans in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “Nyke daor gīmigon skoros vestri iā ōs.” he whispers in Valyrian, his voice like silk and steel combined.

Don’t forget what I did to you four years ago.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips almost touching yours, his eyes burning with the same fire you’ve tried to suppress for years.

Your heart pounds as you feel the weight of his words. You remember how he deflowered you—rocking into you like a piston, kissing your lips, biting at your skin—setting your body on fire. The memory fades.

You meet his gaze head-on, your lips parting as you murmur in Valyrian, “Nyke daor gīmigon.”

I could never forget.

His eyes darken, the grip on your waist tightening. Daemon’s other hand finds the curve of your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, gliding down to the material of your sleeve. With a smooth motion, he slides it off your shoulder, your bare skin to the cool air.

Your eyes flicker from his lips back to his intense gaze, the air between you electric. You feel the steady rhythm between your thighs quicken as his fingers slide down from your chest. Daemon hitches up the material of your gown. His fingers make their way between your thighs. The pads of his fingertips brush against you and you fall forward onto his shoulder. 

You breathe harshly. His fingers are cool and should be foreign. But the way they sink into you, you know it’s all too familiar. You let out a moan as he stills.

The hand on your waist moves up to your shoulder and then to your chin. He holds you, bringing your face to look at him.

“Nyke jaelā ao.” 

I want you.

You let out a soft moan as his fingers spread inside you.  “Ērīninna nyke.” 

Then take me.

Without hesitation, he closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a kiss that ignites every spark between you, consuming you both in a fire that’s been smoldering for far too long.

[winterlico]

PARADISE AT THE DOORSTEP — SJY

ᯓ★ pairing : roommates!Jake x fem!reader / fluff , makeout ᝰ.ᐟ

2.393 ｡ living with Jake was supposed to be easy—falling for him wasn’t.

feedbacks 𖹭 reblogs / O2 edition

You were never the type to believe in fairytales.

Not that you were against love—love was fine. Cute, even. The idea of it was nice, but it was just that—an idea. Something that lived in romance novels or those cheesy Netflix dramas that your roommate, Jake, would pretend not to enjoy watching with you.

Jake, your incredibly handsome, annoyingly charming, sometimes-too-loud-for-the-morning roommate, who also happened to be your best friend.

It wasn’t supposed to be complicated. When you first agreed to move in with him, it was purely out of convenience. You both needed a place, the rent was cheap, and despite your friends' raised eyebrows, you assured them that there was nothing romantic about the arrangement.

Then Jake started doing things that made your heart stutter. Like making you coffee just the way you liked it without you even asking. Or throwing an arm around your shoulders when you both walked home late at night. Or—worst of all—flashing that infuriatingly soft smile when he caught you staring at him.

And now, here you were, standing at the top of the stairs, nervous beyond belief because Jake Sim, your roommate and best friend, had asked you out on a date.

A real one. With flowers and everything.

You weren’t sure what possessed him to do it. Maybe it was the way your fingers brushed too often when you reached for the TV remote. Or how you two had started talking about “your future dog” as if you were already a married couple picking out a golden retriever puppy.

But last night, as he leaned against the kitchen counter, twirling his car keys between his fingers, he looked at you and said, “Let’s go on a date.”

You had laughed at first, thinking he was joking, but when he tilted his head, waiting for your reaction, you realized he was serious.

So now, you stood at the top of the stairs, heart racing, as you saw Jake through the window. He had actually driven all the way from town just to pick you up. He wasn’t just waiting—he was leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet like he was nervous.

Jake Sim. Nervous.

That was a sight to behold.

Taking a deep breath, you walked down the stairs. Your dress, a soft ivory piece with delicate sheer sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, flowed lightly with each step, the sunlight filtering through the fabric as if it were made of something ethereal. The bodice fit snugly, accentuating your shape in a way that made you feel elegant yet effortlessly comfortable. Your dark hair cascaded over your shoulders, and you could feel the warmth of Jake’s gaze trailing over every detail of your appearance.

And that’s when you noticed it—the way he was looking at you.

Like you were something unreal.

His eyes followed your every step, and he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.

He looked incredible too. Jake had dressed simply but impeccably—an off-white knit sweater that hugged his frame in all the right places, tucked into beige trousers that fell just the right amount of loose. His black curls were slightly tousled from the wind, and his sunglasses hung casually from the collar of his sweater. Effortlessly stylish, effortlessly him.

When you reached the bottom, he grinned. “Wow.”

You raised a brow, trying not to let your knees give out. “Wow?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You look… really, really good.”

You smirked, playing it cool even though your insides were a mess. “So do you.”

“Yeah?” He took a step closer, and suddenly, the world felt a little too small. “Good enough to be your date?”

“Mm.” You pretended to think. “I don’t know, Jake. I might need some convincing.”

His grin widened before he reached into his backseat, pulling out a bouquet of flowers.

Your eyes softened. “You actually brought flowers?”

“I told you it was a real date.”

You took them from his hands, the scent of roses and lilacs filling the air. “Alright, Sim. You’re off to a good start.”

Jake opened the car door for you, dramatically bowing as you got in. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The restaurant was warm and intimate, nestled into a cozy corner of town you’d never been to before. String lights draped across the ceiling, casting a golden glow over the wooden tables, and soft jazz hummed from the speakers, blending seamlessly into the chatter of couples and friends enjoying their meals.

Jake pulled out your chair for you, the gesture sending a pleasant warmth through your chest.

“Look at you, being all gentlemanly,” you teased as you took your seat.

He smirked, settling in across from you. “Hey, I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

“As if you haven’t already.”

Jake’s lips parted slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say that. A hint of color crept up his neck, and for a brief moment, he was quiet. Then he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he reached for his glass of water. “You always know how to get to me.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did. Between bites of food, you talked about everything and nothing—the latest movies, the barista at the café who always spelled his name wrong, the time he accidentally locked himself out of the apartment and had to bribe the neighbor’s kid with candy to let him use their phone.

But beneath the laughter, there was something else. Something unspoken yet tangible in the way his fingers toyed with the edge of the tablecloth, in the way your knees brushed under the table and neither of you moved away.

As the night deepened, Jake leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. “You know,” he mused, voice softer now, “I think I knew.”

You tilted your head. “Knew what?”

“That this would happen.” He exhaled, eyes flickering over your face like he was committing it to memory. “That I’d fall for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. The air between you tightened, charged with something undeniable.

“Jake—”

“I don’t need an answer now,” he interrupted gently, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. “Just… let me do this right.”

And as he reached across the table, lacing his fingers through yours, you realized he already was.

After dinner, Jake suggested a walk through the park, and you agreed without hesitation. The evening air was crisp but pleasant, and the glow of street lamps gave the park an almost dreamlike quality. The two of you strolled side by side, hands occasionally brushing, until Jake abruptly stopped.

"Hold on," he said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Stay right there."

You raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Taking a picture of you," he said with a grin. "You look too good tonight not to have proof."

You rolled your eyes, laughing, but still, you let him. He took a few steps back, angling his phone just right. "Alright, one more," he muttered, tilting his head. "Perfect."

You crossed your arms. "Do I get to see it?"

He tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Maybe later."

You playfully swatted at him, and he chuckled, dodging your hand before taking yours in his own as he led you forward once more.

As you continued walking, the distant sound of music filled the air. A small street band had set up near the park’s fountain, their instruments blending into a lively melody. Couples and passersby had gathered around, some swaying to the rhythm, others simply enjoying the performance.

Jake turned to you, eyes glinting mischievously. "Dance with me?"

You blinked. "Here? In front of everyone?"

"Why not?" He was already pulling you toward the open space.

Laughing, you let him, and soon the two of you were twirling between the musicians and the crowd. Your dress fanned out gracefully with each movement, the fabric catching the light as it floated around you. The soft ivory layers swirled like petals in the wind, brushing against Jake as he spun you effortlessly.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you—your smile, your laughter, the way your hair cascaded down your back, catching the glow of the streetlights. It was as if he was trying to capture this moment forever, to etch it into his memory so he would never forget the sight of you like this.

Jake spun you around, making you giggle, and as he pulled you back into his arms, his grip lingered, warm and steady. He watched you intently, as if he was memorizing the way your breath hitched, the way your eyes sparkled beneath the city lights. And in that fleeting moment, he knew—this wasn’t just a dance, it was something more.

You felt it too, the way his fingers brushed against the small of your back, grounding you in a way that sent a pleasant shiver up your spine. The music wrapped around the both of you, and for a second, the world faded, leaving only the two of you in the middle of it all.

As if catching the contagious energy, more people joined in—some dancing in pairs, others moving on their own, completely immersed in the moment. The night air buzzed with joy, and when the song ended, the entire gathering erupted into cheers and claps.

You were breathless, your chest rising and falling as Jake grinned at you. "That was fun."

"You’re insane," you murmured, still smiling. "But yeah, it was."

A few steps later, Jake paused at a small vendor stand lined with trinkets and accessories. He browsed through the selection before picking up a delicate hairpin with a small silver flower.

"Here," he said, stepping closer. "Hold still."

You barely had time to react before he was tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and securing the pin in place. His fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary, and when he finally pulled back, he studied you with a soft smile.

"Perfect," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart did a little flip, but you refused to let him see the effect he had on you. "If this is your way of distracting me from the fact that you still haven't shown me that picture, it's not working."

Jake laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. One thing at a time."

After he carefully placed it in your hair, you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward a small boutique nearby. "Come on, it's my turn now."

Jake raised an eyebrow but followed without protest, watching as you scanned the shelves thoughtfully. Your eyes landed on a thin silver necklace, simple but elegant—something that would suit him perfectly.

"Here," you said, picking it up. "Hold still."

Jake blinked in surprise as you moved closer, your fingers brushing against his neck as you clasped the necklace around him. Realizing he was too tall, you huffed in frustration.

Jake chuckled, bending down slightly to give you better access. "Didn't think this through, did you?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight back a smile. "Just hold still, Sim."

He grinned but obeyed, watching you intently as your fingers worked at the clasp, the warmth of his skin lingering against your fingertips. He glanced down, touching the cool metal resting against his skin.

"Looks good on you," you murmured, stepping back to admire it.

Hand in hand, you finally made your way toward the cozy restaurant Jake had chosen for the evening, the gentle hum of conversation and soft jazz music inviting you inside.

The walk back home was quieter, filled with unspoken words and stolen glances. At your doorstep, Jake turned to you, eyes searching.

You exhaled softly, then took a step forward, tilting your head slightly as you studied him. “Jake, I think I knew too.”

His breath hitched, his eyes searching yours as he tried to grasp the weight of your words.

His breath hitched. “Yeah?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. Then, just like he had done earlier, Jake reached up and gently brushed a strand of your hair away from your face, his fingertips grazing your skin softly. The simple act made your breath hitch, and for a moment, you could only stare at him.

Swallowing, you whispered, "You look really good tonight, by the way." Your voice was softer now, more vulnerable.

You nodded, fingers reaching up to brush his cheek. “I think I was just scared to admit it.”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, leaning into your touch. “So… what now?”

Smiling, you whispered, “Let’s find out together.”

And then, as if it had been inevitable all along, you kissed him.

The moment your lips met, it was like the world around you stilled. Jake’s breath hitched slightly before he melted into you, his hands finding their place on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. The kiss was soft at first, gentle and exploring, as if both of you were trying to memorize the feel of each other.

Your fingers curled against his shoulder, holding onto him as your heart pounded. The night air wrapped around you, but his warmth was all you felt. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough for it to steal your breath, yet not enough to rush—just slow, deliberate, like neither of you wanted this moment to end.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other’s, both of you catching your breath. Jake let out a quiet chuckle, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I’ve been waiting for the right moment to do that."

You smiled, eyes still half-lidded from the kiss. "Maybe... I've been waiting for it too."

And then, just before you could step back, he leaned in again, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips, as if sealing the moment between just the two of you.

[messenger-of-babel]

Rattled

Summary: The cracks in your relationship all stem from that one night . (Nightwing x batsis!reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Here's another one loveliess~! Warning for description of injuries if you're not cool with that, and then just some changing tenses for tiny pieces that I was too brain fried to fix up while editing. First of the sequels to come out (first fic linked below), so I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

RiRi~ xoxo

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You and Dick had always had a sibling relationship that everyone joked was unbeatable.

You had always been the pair known for late nights and laughter, conversations that flowed for hours without a hitch. Everyone could see how the creases smoothed from Dick's forehead when his eyes settled on you, and when he'd playfully wack at the back of your head. He wasn't supposed to have favourites as the older brother, but everyone knew he that if there was a contender you would be up there no questions asked. You knew it too, in the way that you'd ask Dick for permission if Bruce had told you no or asking him first if you knew Bruce was going to deny you outright. Dick knew what you were doing, even if he sighed and shook his head when you asked. Yet he'd still just berate you lightly before giving you permission and instructions not to come crying to him if things went badly. The same man who'd blink owlishly at any other member of the family if they interrogated him on the soft spot he had for you, responding with a 'I'd do it for any of my siblings,' before walking off.

Partners in crime, and you were to be partners in justice.

Now as he sits in his room, eyes trained on the bland ceiling above him, he wished for you to come crying to him more than anything.

When you came back, you came back different.

Even you could feel that, and it wasn't just the throb in your leg or the persistent limp that told you. When you first woke up after the Black Mask incident, it had been in the back of the Batmobile. As you blinked languidly, staring at the roof of the car, your surroundings began to take shape. First had been the burn. The god-awful burn that started in your thigh and shoulder, and made you want to throw up from the intensity that it struck you. When you groaned you could hear worried voices, the sound of Dick yelling something at someone. You could feel the hum of the engine through the leather seats as it worked harder, and the vibrations rattled your skull until you felt the familiar black fog close over you.

The second time that you had woken up, you had been in your bed. The roof of the batmobile had been traded for the canopy of your four poster, and the hard leather traded in for the plush familiarity of your mattress. there was still the persistent stinging in your leg of course, but it had died down some. Pulling back the cotton sheets revealed a tightly wrapped bandage, just a dot of red peeking through. Your arm was stiff as you rolled it, pain squeaking through your joint at the action. The wrapping was the signature of Alfred, the tight yet even tension throughout the bandages speaking to his countless years of wrapping up child soldiers. You winced when you put pressure on your leg, a jolt running up the back of your thigh like a live wire. That wasn't enough to stop you however, merely making you grimace as you shuffled to the door, threading your arms through your fluffy, printed dressing gown.

Your bedroom door creaked open, letting spills of golden light into the darkness of your room. Faint chatter could be heard from down the hall, leading to the foyer. You looked both ways, trying to see who was around before stepping out and closing the door softly behind you. You had only made it about six paces down the left hall, headed for the library to where Jason often visited, before a voice called out to you.

"You should be resting."

Those words were enough to make your shoulders hunch, like a deer caught in headlights. When you turned back around you were met with the cold eyes of your father, jaw set tight, and arms crossed. He was imposing as ever, whether you saw him dressed for patrol that night or if he was simply Bruce Wayne like he was now. You just wrung your hands, looking down to your feet. You couldn't help but feel the scalding in his tone, the disappointment enough to make your eyes water. You didn’t really consider yourself to be a cry-baby, but the tiredness that clung to your brain like a fog, paired with the stare he normally gave your older siblings was enough to make you curl up inside.

You heard his footfalls, and it was like the world was shaking with each heavy step. Bruce crouched in front of you, sleeves rolled to his elbows which he rested on his knees. "Look at me." he commanded, voice a touch softer than it had been before. Reluctantly, you pulled your eyes up to meet his. His eyes were dark but not angry, searching yours silently before flicking around your face. A rough hand came up to the side of your face, reaching for your cheek. His hands were large and rough, but they tucked hair behind your ear so softly you almost didn’t realise he had.

Involuntarily your lip wobbled, closing your eyes as you felt the familiar sting. "I'm sorry." you forced out, throat feeling like sandpaper after waking up so recently. You only had realised how thirsty you were, now that you had used your voice. Bruce sighs and stands up, warms hands coming to rest on your shoulders before softly pulling you in. "It's okay, chickadee." he murmured lowly. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

The use of your childhood nickname made the hot tears beading your eyes finally sink into his shirt. You wrapped your arms around him as your brain flashed with pieces of what had happened last night, each one that zapped through your brain making your leg sting and pulse.

You wrangled your emotions under control, taking a deep breath. even breathing felt like a chore, having to push each breath past the built-up knot in your chest. You parted your lips, wanting to say something to the silent yet steady father before you, but the words caught on your tongue.

He had just come up the stairs, rounding the corner when you saw him. Dark hair damp from an earlier shower, it hung in strings in front of his face. He was in a pair of ragged pyjamas, feet tucked into battered grey slippers. He looked up from his phone, freezing as he catches your eye. The glare from the phone screen highlights the bags under his eyes, heaver and darker than usual. His face was a little more sunken in the cheeks, and a worry line seemed to have taken residence on his forehead.

Not able to stand the building pressure in the small distance between you both, you looked down and away. It was like your gaze was the only thing keeping him a voyeur to the moment between you and your father, and you could see his slippered feet shuffle for a moment, before eventually continuing down the hallway. The tired image of his face lingered in your mind long after Bruce had walked you back to bed and tucked you in, like a persistent itch on the inside of your eyelids.

When you slipped back into sleep, you dreamt of it.

You dreamt of being back in that shipping container, body thrumming with pain and warning signals firing in every corner of your brain. your teeth could feel the texture of the wooden spoon you bit, mouth dry and tongue aching from the texture. Pain boiled through your veins like acid, and the spoon clatters from your mouth. Your mouth is dry, but your cheeks feel as wet and you beg Dick to stop, and you can feel that your leg is sickeningly wet and warm.

While you're tossing lightly in your sleep, Dick is awake down the hall. He couldn't sleep, but not for the usual reasons. For reasons unknown to you, he was staring at the ceiling with his heart in his throat. If he took his eyes off it for too long it warped back into the shipping container roof, his vision blurring like they were covered in tears. He had to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling to make sure he didn’t accidentally slip back there, to prove to himself that he was in fact here in his room, and it wasn’t some trauma response imagining he was. His hand clenched and unclenched in the sheets, repeating to himself over and over that he was safe, you were safe. It was just a nightmare that never seemed to end, but he had gotten you back safely.

If his eyes closed for even a second too long, his ears rang with the sound of your sobbing and the pleading that came from your lips. With a sigh he wipes his face with his hand, blinking languidly as the air puffs out from his lungs. Who was he kidding. Safe? You were hardly safe. You had been bleeding all over your suit, all over that medical chair, all over his hands. That red was still staining the backseat of the Batmobile, and no matter how many times Jason told him he had cleaned it fully, he was convinced he could still see it there faintly.

He wasn't your hero.

Dick knew that much, and it hurt. He hadn't been the one who eventually saved you, that had been Tim. Who had come to him with a kit and the car, who had helped him pinch off the bleed, who had driven as fast as he could to get you back to Alfred and the med bay while all Dick could do was hold you in the back of the car. He was supposed to be unshakeable, your rock and foundation. He had advocated for you to be able to come out with them, promising Bruce, promising himself that he would sooner die than let anything happen to you.

What a lie that was.

Despite his best efforts, when he looked down to his bloodied lap, the sight he saw was not the debut vigilante. It was his little sister back when she was ten, in the gala dress Bruce had bought her. Hair slightly messy from running in the halls and roughhousing with Damian, knees skinned from tripping over near the garden well. It was the little sister that would fling herself into his room whenever she wanted or would come charging at him down the driveway when he came back from a trip to Bludhaven. The little girl who had posters of all of Gotham's vigilantes on her bedroom wall but had a few extra Nightwing ones tacked up on the inside of her wardrobe. That was the one he had failed.

With a crushing pain in his chest he swung himself upwards, tousling his hair with a shake of his head. Alfred should have given you another round of painkillers, which meant that more than likely you were going to be knocked out for a while. He shoved his feet into slippers, sighing as he turned the handle of his bedroom door. This was a bad idea, but he couldn’t stop himself. It's not like he was going to be sleeping much tonight anyways.

The lights of the hallways were dimmed but still bright enough to hurt his eyes, and he solemnly wondered if that was how Bruce felt constantly. Your door wasn’t too far away from his, yet he still hesitated outside. He steeled himself, taking a deep breath and checking to see if anyone was around before he grabbed the handle and pressed it down, your door swinging open silently.

The beeping of the monitors near your bed made his heart pang, and he looked over your sleeping figure. Your eyes were closed, lips parted softly as your chest rose and fell. The sheets were tucked up neatly under your arms, no doubt Alfred's work, while one arm rested in your lap and the other by your head. Your shoulder was padded thickly with gauze pads, strapped tight to your skin. He sat gently on the side, trying to not let his weight dip the bed too much. A hesitant hand brushes across your forehead so he can see your face clearer, a faint smile flickering across his lips. His eyes trail down to the blankets that covered the wound site on your leg, and his brain was filled with images. He wanted so badly to know what it looked like, if it was healing, how much gauze was needed to patch up his mistake.

"I'm sorry." he whispers into the air, gazing down at you. "I'm so so sorry, birdie."

His hands fiddle in his lap as he lets a sigh out. He moves one of his hands stiffly to yours in your lap, gently curling his hand around your fingers. When your digits twitch in your sleep and curl around his back, his eyes burn, and he holds the back of his other hand to his nose to stop a sniffle. "I'm so sorry." he whispers again, throat on fire. "I should have been there sooner. I should have caught you. I should have checked for an explosive, I should have kept my promise." he confesses quietly, the bleeding of his heart spilling past his lips. "I should have been a better brother, birdie. I wish I could take it back."

He swallows thickly, eyes flicking over your face constantly to check for signs of you waking. "I understand if you hate me. Why you don't speak or look at me, and I understand." he tries to smile weakly. "I understand. Bruce was so mad at me, but that's what I deserve. It was all my fault, it truly was." His voice aches as tears finally drip off his nose, a hiccup building in his chest. "But I'll try to make it up to you. I'll earn your trust again, if you'll let me. I promise you; nothing is ever going to happen again."

He wipes his face and stands up, aching as he slips his hand from yours. Your fingers twitch at the loss of the warm contact, and he would give the whole world if he could have the chance to interlace his fingers with yours. Yet he holds himself back, leaning over to give you a featherlight kiss on the forehead, like he used to do years ago when you came to him with nightmares. "I love you, birdie. Forever, I promise." he whispers, stroking your head once gently before he quietly stands up, trying to not jostle the bed. He pads quietly to the door, opening the handle a fraction so that light doesn’t spill into the room, giving him a big enough gap to just slip out. He closes the door, forehead pressing against the wood for a moment before he pushes off and heads back towards his own bed.

Away from the four walls that held you and the sun faded rectangle right above your bed, where a poster clearly used to hang.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Happy birthday!! Rly feeling the

"You’re all mine tonight, don’t forget that."

With my main man 🔥 ace 🔥 and gn!reader

Bless ur soul for the meet cute series 🥴🤭 I go back and reread firestarter like… regularly now

Oh, Anon... *heavy sigh* I'm so, so sorry for the delay. It's quite possible you have already forgotten about this ask since my birthday was back in September *shame! shame! shame!* I still have a few of these to finish, and every time I open my askbox I cringe in shame... Honestly, I had this one practically finished in my WIP pile. It took just a little bit of editing to get it done. If you're still there, I hope you enjoy this with all my heart!

Source for Pic

Amo-te 🔞

Word Count: 2618

Tags: gn!reader; NSFW; MDNI; fluff and porn;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After a rowdy night of drinking and games, someone dares Ace to tell you how he feels. Instead, he hands you a note written in Portuguese and tells you that if you find out what it means... you're all his for the night!

Notes: I'm not sure if it's canon or not, but I always see everywhere that Ace is Portuguese. So I wanted to pay a little homage to that and have some fun! Hope you enjoy!

|Masterlist|

You stare at the piece of paper Ace handed you as if the thing has eyes and two heads, then trace the messy handwriting with your fingertip: Amo-te. What the hell? How are you going to find out what that means? You suppose it’s Portuguese because Ace speaks it, but other than a few curse words, he hasn’t taught the crew anything else. 

Definitely not that word. 

You and Ace have been tiptoeing around your feelings for a while now, clearly interested in one another, but neither brave enough to take the first step. You, because you don’t know if he feels the same way, and he, because he doesn’t feel like he deserves to be loved.

Still, there’s barely a moment when you’re not near or touching each other. 

The crew has noticed this, even strangers on the islands you docked at have, instantly assuming you’re a couple before you have to clarify that you’re not. And still, you both pretend not to notice. 

Until one eventful evening aboard the Moby Dick, when the drinks are flowing freely, and the games start to become spicier and more daring.

-*-

Earlier…

The dares were getting out of hand. Crewmembers were taking dips in the ocean, drinking more than their fair share; someone even dared Marco to cut a piece of Whitebeard’s mustache off - though Marco took the penalty instead of fulfilling the dare, thank the Gods. 

The truths were embarrassing, to say the least. Thanks to them, you’d learned that Vista sleeps naked, Izou cuddles his guns as he’s falling asleep, and you had to endure Jozu explaining - in extreme detail - his routine for what he unfortunately calls his ‘pampering time’.

Which was the dirtiest thing you’ve ever had to hear. 

Then it was Ace’s turn to fulfill a dare.

“Tell them exactly how you feel.” Izou dared, pointing at you with a smirk. The ship tilted - not only because you were tipsy, but because maybe you weren’t ready for the truth - and your breath hitched. 

Ace seemed to ponder the dare for a while. Then he chugged his drink, scribbled something on a piece of paper, and strode towards you with confident steps, the curve of his smile kissing his freckles. 

He handed you the folded paper without breaking eye contact and leaned in. His hair brushed your face, and his breath felt hot against your ear. You swore the alcohol-laden whisper made you drunker than you already were. 

“If you find out what it means by midnight, you’re all mine tonight. Don’t forget that.”

-*-

Now…

Amo-te. 

What the royal fuck. You can feel Ace's smug smirk burning holes in your skin as he sits against the mast, arms behind his head, still shirtless, even though the weather is turning nippy, because he never gets cold. 

You have half a mind to just stride over to him and demand that he tell you what it is, but you know he’ll brag about outsmarting you - someone who thrives on challenges - and how you weren’t able to figure such a simple thing out. 

It has to be something meaningful. Why else would he have added the phrase that ‘you’re all his’ if you figure it out? Just the thought has you blushing and biting your lower lip. 

You’ve asked some people from the crew about it, Marco seemed to recognize the word, because he snickered and said ‘about damn time’, but then he pretended to be as dumbfounded as you, leaving you with no clue whatsoever.  The others were useless.

At dinner, Ace sits next to you, his smug grin growing even smugger as your frustration builds.

“Ready to give up?” He nudges you with his leg, sporting another smug grin, and you growl a ‘never’ at him, then shove food into your mouth, chewing as obnoxiously as possible. 

After a while in silence, you sigh, the paper burning a hole in your pocket. “What if I don’t figure it out? Will you still tell me?”

Ace puts down his food and turns his dark eyes towards you. The smugness in his grin vanishes, and there’s only sweetness in his smile now. “Probably.”

“And–” You hesitate as your eyes travel back to your plate, and your ears turn red. “About what you said after…”

Ace’s chuckle is both amused and sultry, and you have no idea how he manages that combination, because it gets your heart racing. 

“Sweetheart, that deal’s off if you don’t figure it out…”

Damn it.

“You’re being a tease,” you point out, knowing that both of you have tiptoed around the possibility of turning your friendly relationship into something more carnal whenever you’re at sea for so long, just so you can both take care of your urges, but that never happened.

“And you’re loving it.” He’s not wrong… and that infuriates you.

“Fine!” Resisting the urge to crumple the paper and shove it in his mouth, you finish the last few bites of your food and grab the plate to clear the table. “I’ll figure it out, Fire Fist, and when I do…” Your smirk is nearly unhinged. “You better deliver.”

-*-

The library!

With a smack on your forehead, you make a beeline towards the place, ushering quick apologies when you hastily bump into your crewmates. The ship’s library is not huge, but with Ace here, you’re pretty sure there has to be a book that can help you, or at least give you a hint about what this means. 

It takes you all but five minutes to locate a small ‘Common/Portuguese & Portuguese/Common’ dictionary and less than one to realise someone ripped the page that would show you what the word meant. 

The curses that come out of your lips next cannot be found in any dictionary. 

You slump against a bookshelf and wince when a book falls on your head. Defeat and helplessness wash over you, and you don’t even try to stop the disappointment filling your chest. 

Time’s running out. 

You know it’s stupid to feel upset about something this small, this trivial, but what if it’s not small or trivial? What if this next step is what both of you need to make things official? You and Ace banter a lot, but there are times when you crave affection instead of jokes; warmth instead of fire; love instead of friendship…

You crave to see Ace’s eyes light up with the same brightness as when he speaks about his little brother. With so much love and devotion and—

His little brother!

Luffy!

You practically fly over the steps, running through the ship, passing by Ace and making a vulgar gesture at him, who only snorts and taps his wrist obnoxiously, shouting ‘tick tock, tick tock’. Barging into a cabin, you thank the heavens above that there’s no one here to report you, because there are stipulated times for using the Den Den Mushis, and their sleeping schedule is not to be disturbed unless there’s an emergency. 

Though you’d argue and fight tooth and nail with anyone, claiming this to be a super-duper emergency. 

“Come on, come on…” Your feet tap impatiently against the wooden floor, sweat dampening your forehead, as the Den Den keeps ringing. The footfalls coming through the hall can only belong to one man. 

A man who has come to collect your shame and make fun of your defeat.

Ace.

“Hello?” A curse and a prayer fall from your lips.

“Hi! Hi! I need to speak with Luffy, please, it’s urgent!” You tell the male voice on the other side your name and add that you met him once before, when you and Ace visited his brother’s ship.

Usopp, having identified himself as such, goes to fetch Luffy, and your foot taps faster and harder. You still have two minutes before midnight. Before you have to admit defeat and… perhaps… lose the chance to turn yours and Ace’s relationship into something more.

The footsteps come closer to the door. 

“Luffy!” You sigh in relief when a bright and cheery voice shouts your name on the other side of the line. “Listen, I really don’t have much time to chat, but I need your help, please, please!”

You don’t even wait for his reply. “Your brother gave me a note that says ‘Amo-te,’” you read, praying you got the pronunciation correct. “And I really need to know what it means! Please! Can you help!”

FUCK! Thirty seconds. 

“Wow! He said that to you?” Luffy’s laugh accelerates the ticking of the clock as he fills the time with mirth instead of answers. 

“Luffy! Please!”

“Alright, alright.” Ten seconds. “But if he said that to you, that means you’re special. Tell him to bring you over another time! We need to—”

“LUFFY!”

Three…

“‘Amo-te’ is Portuguese for—”

Two…

“I love you.”

One.

The door swings open, and Ace stares at you. The silence is so loud you can hear your breaths echoing off the walls. Luffy calls your name, and you hang up without telling him ‘thank you’ or ‘goodbye.’

I love you. 

“Do you mean it?” you whisper, your voice sounding both small and hopeful in the same breath. 

Ace scratches the back of his head, his usual confident smile nowhere in sight. He opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything, just nods. 

Then he takes another step inside the cabin and locks the door behind him. All breath leaves your lungs in a soundless whoosh. 

‘You’re all mine tonight.’ 

You see his throat bobbing up and down and realise that, for once, he seems nervous. Is he dreading your answer?

“Prove it.” A tease. A test. A way to get him to come to you and make good on his promise. 

He delivers. 

With a groan, Ace takes the step separating you both and crashes his mouth against yours in a move that was long promised. Teeth collide, and you grunt in response. His hands cup your face as your palms find purchase against the planes of his chest muscles. With a nip of your lower teeth, he demands entry, and you open your mouth.

Immediately, his tongue explores. 

Everything about Ace feels like fire and smouldering heat. His touch burns, his tongue consumes, and the unholy little noises he’s releasing drive you to the brink of insanity. 

Clothes start to fly, and it’s a mercy on the poor Den Dens that some of the articles fall on top of their lazy eyes. At least this way, they’ll be spared from what’s about to happen. 

Ace’s tongue relents from your own only to latch onto your neck, down your jaw, tracing your collarbone and your chest. You look down and almost bite your lower lip off trying to stifle a moan at the sight of his length. 

“Fuck.”

“I intend to, sweetheart. Let’s get you ready first, shall we?”

Where are his nerves? Wasn’t he nervous just minutes ago? Was it an act? Or is this confidence the act? 

Maybe he was just scared of your reaction to his advances. 

He dips his hands and strokes, caresses, and teases. His fingers play you like a fine instrument, and your moans are the most wonderful melody. With a smirk, he drops to his knees, taking all your sane thoughts with him as his sinful tongue swirls, sucks, and teases some more. 

“Holy. Fuck.” There are no more words in your scrambled brain. Only pleasure. Blinding, hot pleasure. 

Your fingers thread through dark locks, and you pull, making him grunt against you, building up heat, pressure, and pleasure until you know you won’t be able to hold off any longer. 

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs against you, the slight vibrations of his lips on you sending a shudder down your legs and up your spine. “Gotta warm you up, real nice,” he says, and at the same time, he heats up his hands and - somehow - his lips, too.

It’s too much, too consuming, too intense. It’s…

Not enough.

“Ace… Ace… more… I… more…” You’re whining and writhing while he holds you still, tongue lapping, teeth nibbling, and the damn vibrato of his groans and grumbles turning you into a volcano ready to erupt. 

“Come for me, love.” And it’s the sensuous last word that completely wrecks you. Your hands grip, entwining with onyx hair as your back arches and your lips part to let out an otherworldly cry of pleasure. 

He holds you until you come down from your high, panting, sweating, dripping. Then he rises, all smug confidence again, as he flushes his body against yours, his cock gloriously saluting you, impossibly hot even against your still-feverish skin. 

“All tapped out? I said all night… didn’t I?” He licks a drip of sweat from your temple, and you groan again through a pant, trying to even your breathing.

“You said tonight. No specifics.”

“Ah,” he chuckles. “Semantics.” Ace gathers some of your juices on his fingers and teases them around your hole, testing slowly before trying to push one in, only to be greedily suctioned. “Fuck,” he whispers, finally rattled. 

“Say it,” you demand. And you know you don’t have to specify what you want, not when it’s something that’s been dangling over your heads for a long, long time now. 

“I love you.” Ace’s breath fans your eyelids, and you shudder. Not only from the warm sensation of the gesture, but also because he inserted another finger, stretching you up, opening you up just for him and his massive cock. 

“In Portuguese,” you breathe out alongside a wanton moan as he uses his other hand to spread you further so you can take another finger. 

“Amo-te.” You said it earlier over the Den Den, but the way the syllables come out of his sinful mouth has you twitching all over his hand. 

“Gods above… Ace, I love you, I love you, too.” He can’t seem to hold himself back anymore after that. With a feral groan, he takes your lips again and removes his fingers, smearing his precum over the tip of his cock and holding it steady against your entry. 

You part the kiss with a pant as he slides the tip in, head falling back in abandon. “Say it again!”

“Amo-te,” he repeats through pants as he sheaths all the way in with a slow, languorous movement. “I have for a long time—fuck. For a very long time. I never want to let you go, never—fuck.”

You muffle a wanton moan against him as you wrap your arms around his neck, adjusting to his length. 

“Me too, me too,” you chant, and he picks up the pace, pulling out slowly then slamming back in until you’re crying out his name between pants. “I love you, I love you, I—”

Ace groans, the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he angles you just right to take him. You’re already on the brink of ecstasy again, and by the sloppy thrusts and unhinged grunts he’s releasing, Ace isn’t that far behind. 

“I love you!” you cry out before succumbing once more to bliss and pleasure. 

“Amo-te,” Ace pants between clenched teeth as he pushes through before his own climax. “Para sempre.”

You lie in his arms, limp, drenched in sweat and still trying to catch your breath. Ace’s still buried deep inside you, and you can feel him twitch the last drops of his release. His body feels hotter than usual, sticky to the touch, but oh so divine. 

“Ace?”

“Hmm?”

“What the fuck is ‘para sempre’?”

He merely laughs, holding you tighter, closer, as whatever barriers were holding you both back from the forming of this connection crumble, never to rise again. 

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[kabr0ztrousers]

fem reader finds a mysterious book that summons different monsters or creatures that takes care of human needs and reader chooses to summon the demon and they have sex and make out thats all-

ima be butterfly anon 🦋 so you know that it's me as I will be requesting more in the future.

You can absolutely claim 🦋 if you like, and I do love an opportunity to make another demon. Now without further ado, here's

Kabr0z Writes Episode 33: The book

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Excessive cum; demon summoning; long preamble; monstrous genitalia; butt stuff

A/N: This is the last ask at time of writing, so if you have an idea for something you wanna see, or just want to call me a perv, please reach out! I feed on engagement, after all

##################################

Antiques filled your flat. Mostly worthless tchotchkes, the odd chair or end table missing the rest of some hypothetical set, one particular lamp constructed mostly from a taxidermised heron. You loved them all, but most of all your carefully climate-controlled bookshelf. Your collection wasn't particularly valuable; there weren't many first editions amongst the ranks and what you had were in pretty uniformly terrible condition. The spoils of estate auctions and charity shops.

This time was different. You weren't going to be in Bristol long, so decided to stroll down the alleys of the older parts of the city, far from the university students and the train stations. This shop was barely a hole in the wall. It was only about twice as wide as its own doorway, but it went deeper than made sense. Crowded on all sides with stacks and shelves of books, mostly well-thumbed paperbacks with peeling spines or the odd book of fairy stories from the 60s or 70s, more penguins than you could shake a stick at. One in particular caught your eye. Leather bound, stained a deep royal purple, and with an embossed sigil on the spine. 'The Book of Creatures and Calling' You hadn't heard of this work, and couldn't find any author or attributions on the first few pages. It looked handwritten, a flowing looping hand filling the work in neat, dense rows of text and painstakingly drawn diagrams.

You put it atop the pile of volumes you carried and bought your haul. Vintage copies of Grimm's Fairy Stories, Robin Hood, Tales of Arabian Nights, and that book.

You got home and put away your haul, minus the oddball. That you set about reading, googling passages from it and trying to get some inkling on who wrote it, was it published, or did you just wind up with a random manuscript?

The internet, predictably, produced nothing of use. The book seems never to have been published, or at least nobody had put any parts of it on the web. It was fascinating at any rate. Step by step directions for calling forth all manner of creatures, even organised by difficulty with simpler rituals at the start, and the more daunting ones near the end.

You opted for a simple one to start. A brownie. You drew the circle and left out offerings and a worn-out pair of shoes then went to bed.

When you checked the ritual in the morning, the offerings were gone, and the shoes were as good as new. Better, in fact.

You realised what you had. An honest-to-god grimoire. And you've successfully summoned a faerie.

You checked the book again, making sure to read and re-read every sentence. The compact was simple, the offerings were to pay the faerie back for coming and fixing a broken thing. You didn't owe it anything more, and a pair of shoes was specifically recommended as an example of 'a broken thing'. You sighed in relief. The last thing you needed was to owe something a debt.

Over the next few weeks you tried tougher summons, and got more confident in your abilities. You called forth a dryad who gave you some fruit in return for a song, a walking broom who cleaned your flat, even a golden goose once, though it didn't lay anything for you.

The day you really found the potential of the book came later. You'd been drinking pretty heavily, your boyfriend had just walked out on you. Wine and ice cream wasn't cutting it, you needed something more substantial. You reached for the book and turned to the last summon. An incubus. For the low, low price of a sliver of your soul, you could get the best fuck of your life. You shrugged and finished your wine. Worth it.

The ritual was much more complex. Carefully tracing sigils within sigils, lighting candles and incense, making sure that the protection and binding spells were perfect (It would be disastrous if they failed) before using a kitchen knife to cut a slit into your fingertip.

A single drop of blood welled up from your finger, then lifted off it, drifting to the centre of the ritual. A smell of iron joined the sweet incense and paraffin in the air. The candles flickered for a moment, and he appeared.

He was tall, brass-skinned, and well dressed. He wore a pair of tight black leather trousers and a black silk waistcoat, covered in brocade embroidered in fine gold thread. His feet, each toe tipped with a knifelike black claw, were bare and in a pointe stance about an inch above the floor. The burnished metallic skin of his arms and face reflected the soft candlelight, sending fluid reflections across your walls as he took in his surroundings. Atop his head were a pair of black horns, twisting out, then in, then straight up. His hair was the same metal as his face, a coif of impossibly thin brass wire. His eyes were the only part of him that wasn't polished metal or charred bone, black scleras surrounded glowing red irises and horizontally slitted pupils.

"A professional job, well done young summoner" His features twisted to a smile, revealing silver teeth and a forked silver tongue "I can see you know your craft"

The book had warned you about this, that he would try to beguile you, twist you into agreeing to something you didn't want. You wordlessly proferred a scroll to him. A contract. It was carefully worded: no verbal contracts would be binding for the rest of his time with you, he would give you an evening of carnal delight, and in return he would get a sliver of your soul equivalent to an hour at the end of your lifespan.

The demon read the document, and laughed "I'm not used to you people being so well prepared. Very well. An hour of your life, taken from the very end, in return for my services for the evening. This ought to be fun." He bowed deeply "I am Kamilik, lesser demon in service to Simizel and denizen of the Ashen Pit"

You told him your name, being careful to phrase it as how he could address you, which only made him chuckle further.

Once you had both signed the document, you led him to your bedroom. Your hands shook as you started to undress for the creature you had invited in to your home. He touched your waist, and stroked your hair. He must've been able to smell the wine on your breath as he pulled you towards him, easing off your top and expertly unfastening your bra, casting the garments into the corner of the room. He sat on the bed and pulled you on top of him, one clawed hand on your back, the other cupping your face before he drew you into a kiss.

His breath smelled of metal, and his skin was hot, but his lips were soft as you melted into his arms. Sat on his lap, eyes closed and running your hands through each others hair, feeling one another's bodies. You unfastened his waistcoat and he pulled it off, keeping one hand on you, then the other, never breaking the kiss.

It was like making out with a radiator, if the radiator was soft and receptive to the touch. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and he gently sucked on it, the heat even more intense, but never painful. Then his tongue entered your mouth, the forked muscle flitting in, tasting like how a 9-volt feels. You gasped with surprise at the sensation, but relaxed into it as his needle-sharp claws drew intricate patterns on your back. You pressed yourself against him, feeling your tits flatten on his burnished chest and enjoying the warm wetness spreading between your legs.

You pulled away, and knelt off the side of the bed. You yanked his waistband down, before he cut a slit down his trousers and they burned away, leaving him nude on the bed in front of you. His cock was fleshy and vascular, red veins criss-crossed pale flesh, coming to a gentle point at the end. You admired it for a moment, before taking it in one hand and jerking it. You heard him sigh as your hand pumped his shaft, even more so when you started to lick and suck on his balls. You felt a drop of precum start to leak from him, getting on your hand. You pressed a fingertip against his brass asshole, intending to gently work it in, but his eager butt swallowed it up to your knuckle with no resistance. You curled it up and touched his prostate.

You heard him groan and felt his cock pulse in your hand. He was cumming already. You felt drops of hot liquid on your face and pulled away, watching him pump a fountain of golden cum into the air. Eventually the pulsing stopped, your hand was coated in the hot, sticky gold liquid. He wasn't going soft

"I'm a demon. We're done when you say we are"

You smiled, this is going to be fun. You reached into your bedside drawer and produced a toy, long and curved, designed to seek out a man's prostate and press against it mercilessly. You pushed it up the demon. As soon as it found its mark, he started spurting again. This time you were ready.

You pushed the cock into your mouth, gripping his pulsating balls in one hand and rattling the toy inside him with the other. He filled your mouth almost immediately, and you gulped him down.

Your cunt was starting to tingle in anticipation, but you wanted to indulge yourself a little more like this. You bobbed your head, taking in the warming cum and the demon's moans and gasps as pleasure turned to pain and back to pleasure. Every few dips you'd push his tip into your throat, causing him to spurt harder and cry out louder.

You eased up on the toy, the flow slowed but didn't stop as you pulled his cock, twitching and leaking, out of your mouth. The demon was already lying flat on his back, hands either side of him, clenching his fists against the shaking. You straddled his cock and started rocking back and forth on it, adding his cum to the lubrication on your pussy before pushing him in.

He felt bigger on the inside, the pulsing mass of flesh pumping cum into you already. You started to ride him. Every rock of your hips spilled cum out of you. You leant forwards to work his frenulum inside you. His face screwed up as he grabbed you. The sharp nails on his hands marking your skin, but not cutting. You couldn't reach the toy pressed against his orgasm button, but that wasn't stopping him now. Every thrust into you, every roll of your hips, every touch of your hands on his skin made him spurt more and more into you until it was flowing out of you and onto the bedsheets. You pushed a hand between your distended belly and his twitching one, pressing against your clit for only a moment before you gasped and realised your oen climax.

You bucked harder against him, your abs pushing and pussy clenching. He came even harder, cum squirting out of you. He released you and you leant back. His cock was against your g-spot now and still spraying that hot cum into you. You grabbed the toy and fucked his ass with it. He screamed as you punished his rear, riding his cock into you and you orgasmic clenching redoubled as you came again. Your belly bounced on him almost comically, full of the golden semen he seemed to have an endless supply of.

You pulled out the toy and slumped forwards onto him, spent.

He kissed your lips again, and you kissed him back.

You grinned "Give me ten minutes, then round 2?"

He chucked "Whatever you want"

#####################################

Post script: Once again, my ask box runneth dry! Please, oh reader, toss an idea to your Kabr0z and something will likely come of it!

[daisys-reality]

PAC: All about timing~ ♡ ๑

general tarot reading disclaimers apply here, don't limit yourself to this in any way. dividers were made by me, the pictures are from pinterest but edited by me. for more tarot readings, check out my masterlist. now, think about your timing related question and choose a picture from above and read your pile below.

ᯓ. 𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 🕐

As you might have more than one time-related questions. Here, you might find the answers to more than one topic.

Very soon, it will come to fruition, potentially...

... even right now or gradually within the next 2 to 5 weeks when you're ready.

....Otherwise, within the next 5 to 18 months.

Turn your intuition, dedication and emotions into action - let it influence and form your actions towards the thing you'reasking about. It's around the corner, you just need a little more patience. As soon as you're ready to embrace a new beginning and open yourself up to new possibilities, it will be time for your wish to manifest. Be receptive to the energies flowing around you, and don't close yourself off.

Moreover, it will require you to focus, to learn or practice/try out new skills or ideas! An increased understanding about the thing you're asking about and the situation will help you achieve it quicker too. The timing is linked to how ready you are to plan and take the first steps toward your goal, and how committed you really are to it.

It may be slightly delayed due to conflict, tension, or unresolved disputes (within or outside yourself). The timing is connected to overcoming this conflict or resolving the tension, perhaps after you have walked away from a situation that no longer serves you. There is a need to step back and reassess everything one more time before moving forward - they important aspect here is that you need to be ready for it- make space for it to happen quicker!

Special seasons: Cancer, Aquarius and Taurus season, summer season in general, within the 2nd half of this year.

Oracle messages:

"Heaven open its loving arms and pours abundance onto you! An unexpected gift is on its way. Accept it with gratitude and humility."

"Wait."

"Release the need to control the situation. It's coming for you."

"Stop obsessing first."

"Stop asking this question if it makes you feel uncomfortable. Ask something else or find a new answer that makes you happier."

"Clear the mess up - a chaotic environment leads to a chaotic inner world. If you tidy up around you, your thoughts will clear up too and and the answer to your questions will come to you on its own."

+ + If you're a reality shifter, and your question was shifting related... you feeling a disconnect from the people around you (in CR) and losing feeling, as well as forgetfulness, might be a sign. If you want to know when you'll finally shift, then I see it happening before this year ends! ...when you least expect it.

ᯓ. 𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝚆𝙾 🪻

As you might have more than one time-related questions. Here, you might find the answers to more than one topic.

Everything you are hoping for will come to you very soon, probably within the next 4 to 8 weeks(!), but you must have patience. It will come swiftly and it'll be very exciting. If you're a fire signs (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) it's more likely to happen during your own sun sign season but August, November/December, April are special months for you all, pile two. It's on the horizon and will come quickly once you take decisive action! Be self-assured, fierce and daring/fearless. Have a "success mindset" and bath in your excitement. Always stay open-minded for it to happen anytime.

On a side note, there is some deception going on... It needs to be addressed! You might not be honest to yourself about something related to your question, and this is affecting the timing, causing a little delay. When the truth comes to light/more clarity is brought to the situation, and you've freed yourself of this, your desire will come to fruition immediately or just very quickly. It will be unexpected, perhaps before you even feel completely ready, hence catching you off guard. Just trust the process and step into the unknown while keeping your belief strong.

Special seasons: Leo, Sagittarius, Aquarius and Aries season (esp. August, April) or in 4 weeks or months from when you're reading this!

Oracle messages:

"Very soon." & "Let go."

"Let it come to you - Often things end up happing in the best way possible if you just let them. Even when doesn't seem like it at first glance."

"You already know the answer to your question."

"You're at the beginning of a wonderful journey. There is no need to have any fear, your guardian angels walk beside you every step of the way. Just free yourself from that which is holding you back. New opportunities will present themselves if you truly believe."

++ If you're a reality shifter, and your question was shifting related... you struggling with having to keep your experiences all to yourself and you wanting to spill it all might be a sign that it'll happen soon. (Maybe even radom headaches...take care of yourself and reward yourself every now and then for how far you've come.) If you want to know when you'll finally shift, then I see it happening when you decide to just rush in without fear... like a dog running after a thrown stick lmao (the dog doesn't care what it's in front of him. He's just eyeing the stick in the air while running towards it recklessly). When you're just done with it and just sick of dilly-dallying it any longer... you just do it. (Frustration building up and overruling any fears or resistances).

ᯓ. 𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴 🕊

As you might have more than one time-related questions. Here, you might find the answers to more than one topic.

Some of the things you desire might be happing within the next 15-30 days. It will occur when your beliefs are aligned. Whatever you're asking for might progress in a steady manner and perhaps follow a predictable, step-by-step process, meaning that things will happen once you’ve followed the fix procedure ....

For some, the timing is meant to be hidden from you at this time. So, blind faith might be required from your side. And that's why doubts/fears, anxiety, lack of confidence, or emotional imbalance might delay this a bit - as long as this prevails, timing will be uncertain. 🫤 You need to show yourself more compassion and patience. Vulnerability is nothing bad but please rebuild your inner power.

Allow yourself to rest for now - you being exhausted or burned out won't help anyone. Slowly overcome this inner resistance or frustration you have and reclaim your sense of control. "Rushing through" because you're impatient, will only cause more delay ('divine timing' seems to be at play - only if you believe in it !! ). Calmness and maturity is required from you now. So, trust your resilience, fully live through this moment, stay calm and work through your fears/self-doubts and keep your beliefs strong! Some of your desires will manifest on their own behind the scenes. Oh and especially if your ask is love related and you're asking about a divine connection - everything will fall into place, don't worry! ♡

Special seasons: Leo season (August), winter time (especially November & February), Taurus season (May)

Oracle messages:

"Things will unfold ad they're meant to. Stop rushing things."

"Release any attachment to timing and allow things to come to you."

"Don't lose hope. It will happen faster than you think."

"Just relax and breath for a moment - the answer to your question will come on its own to you."

"Inner strength leads to the answer - tell yourself 'I AM ENOUGH."

"Early morning & late at night"

+ If you're a shifter, and your question was shifting related, eg. you want to know when you'll finally shift, then I see it happening (as i said above) when you resolve that inner resistance (eg. fears about shifting in general or about your life after shifting) and truly let go (do not be obsessed with the timing, please just chillout) - it might happen at a special date... your birthday or during holiday season or sth like that!