#💌: The Case of My Heart!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stylesispunk · 4 months ago

Text

'Landed too hard'

outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: You save Joel's life from raiders but instead of thanking you, he gets mad at you.

You get hurt and you are forced to be vulnerable with each other.

wc: 7k

warnings: age gap, established relationship, angst, fluff, miscommunication, insecurities, mentions of blood, and fluff

a/n: i'm slowly coming back to this with this baby here that was on my drafts. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

The forest was too quiet for your liking. No birds, no wind, just the soft crunch of the snowy ground beneath your feet as you followed Joel, who was ahead of you, and Ellie. There was something in the air this day, eerie silence pressing on your chest, tension, and Joel had been on edge all day; his broad shoulders seemed tense under his jacket, his grip on the rifle was tighter than usual.

It felt like the premonition of something bad coming your way. So, you kept your knife close and your gun pressed under your hand. Staying alert in case something bad could happen.

“We’ll set up camp soon,” Joel muttered exasperated, his voice low without looking behind to you and Ellie.

Ellie groaned. “Finally. My feet feel like they’re gonna fall soon.”

You gave her a tired smile at her remark, but your eyes stayed on Joel's back. His jaw was tight, the scar on his temple crinkling deeper. You knew him well enough to read the signs; he was worried. More than usual today.

That’s why you didn’t even hear them coming.

One second, you were walking behind Joel, and the next, chaos broke out. Shouts echoed through the trees. Five, maybe six men, all armed, came out from nowhere. Joel shoved you and Ellie behind an overturned log.

“Stay down,” he growled, pressing his rifle into your hands. “If anyone gets close, you shoot. Don’t move unless I say so.”

“Joel—”

“Stay here."

You swallowed your fear and nodded, grabbing Ellie and pulling her down. Joel stepped out, drawing their attention, firing a shot that took one of the men down, then another, and so on.

But the rest came fast. Through the cracks in the log, you watched Joel fight. He moved like a man who’d done this a thousand times before, as you already know, but even then, it was too much to bear; he didn't feel strong enough as before. One of the raiders tackled him, and suddenly, Joel was on the ground, with one of those men’s hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.

“Shit,” you whispered, your heart pounding so hard you could barely hear Ellie’s panicked breathing next to you.

Joel clawed at the man’s wrists, his face turning red, veins bulging in his neck. He wasn’t going to get out of it, and you couldn’t just sit there watching the man you loved die in front of you as if it wasn't worth saving.

“Stay here,” you told Ellie, voice shaking from rage.

“Wait, what are you doing?!” she whispered.

Your body moved before your mind could argue. You were already running before Ellie could have the chance to stop you.

You tackled the man strangling Joel, knocking him off balance, but before you could finish him, another set of hands grabbed you from behind. You struggled, kicking and clawing, managing to land a sharp elbow into the man’s ribs before twisting free. The first man lunged again, but you dodged, feeling the burn of a knife slicing across your cheek. The pain barely registered as you drove your own knife into the man’s neck, then turned and plunged it into the second attacker’s chest before he could think of recovering. Warm blood splattered your hands as the man crumpled, gasping his last breath.

You stood there, panting, adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Joel coughed violently, rolling onto his side, his face pale and drenched in sweat. You dropped to your knees beside him, your hands hovering uselessly. “Joel? Hey, hey, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, still gasping for air. When he finally sat up, his brown eyes locked onto yours, not with gratitude, but with pure, burning rage.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he rasped, still coughing.

You blinked, the adrenaline still rushing through you. “I-I-I had to...He was going to—”

“And you didn't listen to me!" Joel slammed his fist into the dirt, his whole body trembling with anger. He hated when you had to put yourself in danger because he hadn't been strong enough to save the day. “I told you to stay hidden! What if he’d killed you?!”

“Well, he didn’t kill me,” you stated, “I saved your life.”

“And you risked yours doing it." His voice echoed through the trees, sharp and unforgiving. You felt your chest tighten, heat rising in your throat.

“Well, thanks to that risk you are not fucking dead." you spat back.

Joel stood up, wiping the blood from his hands. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything else. The space between you felt impossibly wide.

He ran a hand over his face, stepping back like he couldn’t even look at you right now. "You put yourself in danger. You could’ve been killed. Do you even get that?"

"I get it. I just saved your ass." You shot back, the weight of the moment crashing over you. "And all you can do is yell at me?"

He exhaled sharply, his hands curling into fists before he turned away. "I won't do this with you."

"Fine," you bit out.

The air between you felt thick, suffocating. You glanced at Ellie, who stood off to the side, arms crossed as if sensing the tension.

You lifted a hand to your cheek, your fingers coming away sticky with blood. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the cut on your cheek burned, you sucked in a sharp breath. Ellie’s eyes flicked to the wound, concern flashing across her face, but she didn’t say anything. Joel still wasn’t looking at you, his back rigid as he adjusted his pack.

"We should get moving," he muttered, voice strained.

You nodded, swallowing down the ache in your throat. Without another word, the three of you fell into step, the silence stretching between you like the open wound on your cheek.

That night, you found a small clearing tucked between big trees, far enough from the road to feel safe enough to spend the night. The cold had settled deep, and you pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you sat near the weak glow of the fire. Joel had barely spoken a word since the fight, his focus set on keeping watch, his back to you.

You weren’t hurt by his words or the outburst he had, but by the idea of him willingly dying and feeling at peace with it. How easy would it be for him to leave you behind and on your own?

You dismissed your thoughts as you dug through your pack for a rag, pressing it against the wound on your cheek. The sting made you wince, and you cursed under your breath.

A quiet shuffling caught your attention, and you looked up to see Ellie kneeling beside you, her brows furrowed.

"Here," she said, pulling a small bottle of alcohol from her pocket. "Let me help."

You hesitated for a moment, then gave her a small nod. She dampened the cloth with the liquid and reached for your face. The touch was gentle, but the sting made you hiss.

"Sorry," Ellie murmured, biting a laugh, concentrating as she cleaned the cut. "You’re lucky it’s not deeper."

You let out a small chuckle, though there wasn’t much humor in it. "Lucky isn’t exactly the word I would use to describe this day.”

Ellie huffed, finishing up before pulling a bandage from her pack. "Well, you’re not dead, so that counts for something."

You smiled faintly, glancing toward Joel. He still hadn’t turned around. You sighed, looking back at Ellie. "Thanks, Ellie."

She just shrugged, but there was warmth in her eyes. "Anytime."

As the fire crackled softly between you, you finally felt a small sense of comfort, at least from Ellie. Joel, on the other hand, was still a storm brewing on the other side of your little camp.

Joel sat a few feet away, his gaze drifting to you as he kept watch. He noticed the way you shivered, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, but still, you slept. He hesitated, jaw tightening as he debated with himself. Then, with a quiet sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over your sleeping form.

You stirred slightly at the added warmth, a small, unconscious sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake. Joel lingered for a moment, watching you, before settling back down next to you as if he needed to remind himself you were still here.

The fire in your camp had burned down to glowing embers, the scent of smoke mixing with the cool morning air. Joel sat near it, his hands wrapped around his thermos, sipping coffee out of it, his eyes occasionally flicking over to where you slept.

Your back was to him, your body curled slightly, the jacket pulled high over your shoulder. The cut ran along your cheekbone from the fight the day before, reminding him of how you always put yourself in danger for him.

He hated himself for it. How he had come to the point where he felt useless to protect you.

Now, you looked peaceful despite the frown that creased your forehead. Joel knew that look. He knew you too well to know what was happening.

Ellie stirred next to him, stretching before getting to her feet. She glanced at you, then back at Joel.

“Should I wake her up?” she asked, rubbing her tired eyes.

Joel shook his head. “Not yet.”

Ellie raised a brow. “Why?”

Joel sighed, glancing at you again before taking another sip of coffee. “She has a frown.”

Ellie blinked. “Yeah, because she’s mad at you. Even in her sleep.”

Joel exhaled sharply through his nose, but there wasn’t much fight in it. “No. It’s different. She gets that when she gets migraine.” He ran a hand over his beard, glancing at you again. “Just let her sleep a little bit longer.”

Ellie’s teasing smirk faded slightly, replaced by something softer in her gaze, “You really pay attention, huh?”

Joel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another slow sip of coffee, staring into the fire, fading. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly. “When it comes to her, of course I do.”

Ellie sighed, dropping back down next to him. “So are you gonna fix this or what?”

Joel tensed, setting his cup down beside him. “She doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“Yeah, because you yelled at her.” She reminded him.

Joel rubbed a hand down his face. “She shouldn’t have done what she did.”

“She saved your ass, Joel.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. “That isn't the point.”

Ellie scoffed, shaking her head. “Yeah, it kinda is. She did what you would’ve done for her.”

Joel was silent, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“Do you think she would be fine if you were dead?” she pressed on, sighing.

Instead of an answer, Joel reached for his bag, unbuckling the strap. He knew exactly where to look; tucked inside one of the side pockets were the pills he always carried for you, just in case.

Ellie, who had been watching with quiet curiosity, tilted her head. “Wait… do you carry her pills?”

Joel didn’t look up as he pulled out the small bottle, checking how many were left. “Yeah.” His voice was gruff, like he didn’t think it was something worth mentioning.

Ellie crossed her arms. “Huh.”

Joel finally glanced at her. “What?”

Ellie smirked. “Nothin’. Just, you act all tough, but you’re, like, secretly the softest person ever for her.”

Joel rolled his eyes, muttering, “Keep it to yourself, kid,” as he moved toward you.

You stirred slightly as he knelt beside you, brushing your hair back from your face with a careful hand. The sight of the cut on your cheek made his stomach twist again, but he pushed the feeling down. He had already failed to keep you from getting hurt once; he wouldn’t fail you now.

Gently, he set the bottle of pills down next to you, along with a canteen of water. He knew you still weren’t talking to him, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop taking care of you.

As he sat back, Ellie watched him with something unreadable in her expression.

Joel sighed, rubbing his thumb over the strap of your bag.

Ellie nodded. “You’re doing the right thing, at least.”

Joel wasn’t sure about that. But as he sat there, keeping watch while you slept, he figured it was all he could do for now.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the dull ache in your head. The second was the soft sound of the fire crackling and fading nearby. You blinked against the morning light, your body still heavy with exhaustion from the last day.

And then you saw the canteen and the small bottle of pills sitting beside you. You didn’t have to ask who put them there.

Your gaze flickered to Joel, who sat a few feet away, his back turned slightly toward you. He was sharpening his knife, and Ellie sat across from him, kicking at the dirt with her boot, sneaking glances at you like she was waiting to see what you’d do.

You swallowed, your throat dry. Carefully, you pushed yourself up, wincing as your muscles protested. Your fingers brushed against the bottle of pills, and you hesitated before finally picking it up.

Joel’s voice came before you could say anything. “Drink some water with that.”

It was quiet. Gruff. Like he wasn’t sure where the two of you stood after yesterday.

You pressed your lips together, debating whether to respond, but you didn’t have the energy to fight with him again. Instead, you obeyed, twisting the cap off and dry-swallowing the pill before chasing it with a sip of water.

Joel didn’t look at you, but you saw his shoulders drop just a little.

Ellie, of course, didn’t stay quiet for long. “Sooo, does this mean you guys are done being mad at each other?

You shot her a look. “Ellie.”

“What? I’m just saying—”

Joel cut in; his voice flat. “Eat your breakfast.”

Ellie huffed but dropped it, tearing off a piece of jerky with her teeth.

You sighed, rubbing your temples before stealing a glance at Joel. His eyes were still fixed on his knife, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the handle a little too tightly.

He was waiting. For you to say something. For you to forgive him.

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples in a weak attempt to ease the pressure in your skull. It wasn’t working. Nothing ever really worked, except for him.

Joel had a way of grounding you when the pain got bad. He didn’t always have the right words, but he never needed them. He had his own way of taking care of you, of letting you know he was there. And right now, all you wanted was for him to kiss your temples the way he used to. The way he always did when you were hurting.

But things weren’t the same. You had fought, you had pulled away, and he had let you. And now, even though he was right there, he felt miles away.

You swallowed hard and shut your eyes, trying to push down the disappointment twisting in your chest. It was stupid to want that from him right now. After everything, you shouldn’t need him like that.

Except you did.

Joel shifted, and you felt him move closer, his presence clear even before he spoke. “Did you take the pills?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence, and then, so softly you almost missed it— “Still hurts?”

You hesitated. Your pride screamed at you to say no. To brush him off and keep that last little bit of distance between you. But you were tired.

“Yeah,” you admitted.

Joel exhaled slowly. And then, finally, finally, you felt his fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head just enough so he could lean in.

His lips pressed against your temple, lingering for just a second longer than they needed to.

You closed your eyes, breathing him in, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin.

“Get ready, we have to go now,” he said, still closer to your face.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the sudden shift back to reality. The moment was brief, fleeting, just like every soft thing between you and Joel seemed to be.

He pulled away first, his hand dropping from your face like he hadn’t just touched you just a moment ago. Like he hadn’t just kissed you the way he always used to when you were hurting.

You cleared your throat, pushing yourself up slightly, ignoring the dull ache in your chest. "Yeah, okay," you muttered, rubbing at your face as if you could wipe away the lingering warmth of his touch.

Joel stood up, already shifting back into that closed-off version of himself, the one that had been there ever since your fight. The one who didn’t know how to bridge the gap now.

Ellie walked in just as you were attempting to stand, her eyes flicking between the two of you. "You guys look weird," she said, frowning.

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Not now, Ellie."

She just smirked, clearly entertained by whatever tension was hanging in the air. "Whatever you say, lovebirds."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for your bag to distract yourself. Your fingers trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, but you pretended not to notice. Joel pretended to, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you, watching you too closely, like he always did.

The road stretched ahead, cracked and broken, nature reclaiming what once belonged to people. You walked in silence, the weight of the morning still pressing against your chest. Your head ached, but you bit down on the pain, refusing to let it slow you down.

Joel was beside you, his pace slow, his presence solid as ever. But something about him felt distant. He was looking at you, and you could feel his gaze flickering toward you every few moments.

Before, his eyes had been filled with something warm, something certain. But now? Now, it felt like he was watching you from behind a wall, like he was making sure you were still there but refusing to let himself feel anything about it.

Ellie, for once, was quiet, kicking a stray rock as she walked ahead, letting the tension settle between the two of them.

Joel’s outburst had been raw and desperate, yes, but now, you saw it for what it was. Fear. Not just losing you. But what did it mean to him if he did it?

Because Joel didn’t think he deserved to have you. He thought he wasn’t enough, that he never had been. And maybe, he would never be the man you need it.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. "You don’t have to keep looking at me like that," you muttered, not even turning your head.

Joel tensed beside you. "Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for me to cry to let you in and forgive you, you shout at me and I'm angry about it."

His jaw ticked, and for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

"I am not," he said, voice rough. A lie.

You stopped walking. Finally, you turned to face him. "Then what is it?" you asked, your voice softer than you meant for it to be. "Because you had been like this for days, something's been different, and yesterday you just broke."

Joel exhaled slowly, looking away, his hands on his hips, his fingers flexing. "Nothing’s different."

You huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "Bullshit."

Ellie stopped a few steps ahead, glancing between the two of you like she wanted to intervene but thought better of it.

Joel shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders stiff, his mouth opening—then closing again. He had no answer. No real one, anyway.

Because the truth was, it had never been about you. It had always been about him. About the way he would rather push you away than let himself believe, even for a second, that he was allowed to keep you. That you would want to stay.

That you would choose him. But you were tired of being the only one fighting for this.

So, you just nodded, setting your jaw. "Alright," you murmured, turning back toward the road, ignoring the way your chest ached. "If nothing’s different, then let’s just keep moving."

He heard the way your voice broke at the end, and he just watched as you joined Ellie.

Joel stood there, hands tightening into fists at his sides as he watched you walk away. He’d done this again.

Ellie shot him a glance, her expression unreadable, before she turned her attention back to you. She said something low under her breath, nudging your shoulder. You didn’t look back.

And Joel? Joel just stood there, rooted in place, watching the one thing he was most afraid of slip through his fingers.

Because, deep down, he knew. It wasn’t the world that would take you from him. It was him. It was a matter of time.

A few hours later, when the cold still found its way deep down your bones. You followed Joel and Ellie into the old market, the air inside thick with dust and the remnants of a world long gone. The faded signs above the shop windows once advertised fruits and vegetables, but now they were nothing more than silent witnesses to the decay around them.

Joel stepped inside first, scanning the area with ease. His hand never strayed far from the rifle slung across his back. He wasn’t just looking for supplies; he was looking for danger, as always, and he was ready to find it. You watched him move with that quiet confidence that made him seem invincible.

He disappeared behind a corner, moving into the heart of the market.

Ellie, always ready for adventure, shifted impatiently next to you. “Is it safe?” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness of the market.

You didn’t answer right away, your eyes fixed on the place where Joel had vanished.

“He’ll let us know when it’s safe,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes away from him.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, clearly not fully convinced. “Yeah, but what if-”

You cut her off with a shake of your head. “He’s careful. He’ll check everything first.”

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with the answer, but she stayed quiet. You both waited in silence, the only sounds the distant hum of the wind and the occasional creak of the building settling.

Then, Joel’s voice echoed from ahead. “Clear,” he called out as he reappeared from behind a row of shelves, his gaze briefly flicking over you before he turned to lead the way deeper into the market. His expression was unreadable, but you could sense the wariness beneath it.

His fingers found their way to your shoulders, his touch was brief, just the slightest brush of his fingers against your jacket. A silent reassurance. Or maybe a habit he couldn't break.

You didn’t react, didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you focused on scanning the shelves, looking for anything useful. Cans, medical supplies.

Ellie was already rummaging through a shelf, muttering under her breath about how people really liked canned beans before the world went to hell. Joel moved ahead.

You bent down, shifting through a pile of toppled boxes, when Joel’s voice came from behind you again, “You good?”

It was automatic, the way he asked. Like, even when he was keeping his distance, he still couldn’t help but care.

You hesitated, keeping your back to him. “Yeah.”

Another pause. Then a quiet, “Alright.”

But it wasn’t alright.

Not the way his voice sounded. Not the way your chest ached every time he was close, but not close enough. And definitely not the way his fingers had lingered just a second too long on your shoulder again, as if he didn’t want to let go.

Joel was already moving toward another section of the market, scanning the rows of empty shelves, searching for anything of value. Ellie had drifted further ahead, already rummaging through a crate she found. You stayed close to the wall, the building’s dilapidated structure making you nervous, but you tried not to let the unease show.

You took a few more steps, carefully picking your way over the cracked floor, when suddenly, the ground beneath you gave way with a sharp, unsettling creak. Before you could react, your foot twisted, the bone snapping like a twig under the weight of the fall.

A sharp, searing pain shot through your ankle as you cried out, unable to stop yourself. The world spun for a moment as you collapsed, hands pressing to the ground to catch yourself, but the pain in your ankle was unbearable. You let out a sharp gasp, fighting the urge to cry out again as you felt something shift beneath the skin; your foot didn’t feel right.

"Shit," you muttered, trying to stay calm, but panic crept in with each breath. Your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull yourself up, but your foot wouldn’t hold any weight. You couldn’t put it down.

Ellie’s voice broke through the fog of pain, distant but growing closer. “What happened?”

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice followed almost immediately. You could hear the panic lacing his tone, the urgency in his steps as he turned back toward you. You were grateful for his presence when you saw him, his figure coming into view, moving fast.

He saw you on the ground, your face twisted in pain, and his heart dropped. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath, kneeling down beside you with a speed that surprised you. His hands were gentle, but you could hear the frustration in his voice as he assessed the damage. "What the hell happened?"

“I—I fell,” you stammered, gritting your teeth as you tried to hold back more of the pain. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your ankle, the way it throbbed, the way your body seemed to give way under the weight of it.

Joel’s face hardened, his jaw clenching as he reached down to carefully touch your injured ankle. “I’m gonna need you to stay still, alright?” His voice was calm, but there was a warning edge to it. He was trying to hold himself together, trying not to let his worry show, but you could see it in his eyes. His hands worked quickly, checking for anything more serious, his brow furrowed with concentration.

“Ellie, get over here,” Joel called out, his voice low and strained.

Ellie rushed back toward you, eyes wide with concern as she knelt beside you. “Shit, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to sound stronger than you felt. “It’s just my ankle.”

Joel’s gaze flicked between you and Ellie, his mind clearly racing. “We need to get you out of here, now.” His hand gripped your shoulder for a moment, his fingers digging into the fabric of your jacket as if grounding himself in that brief contact.

Ellie was already standing, her expression determined as she took a deep breath. “I’ll go grab what we need.”

Joel nodded, but his focus never left you. He reached down, his hands carefully lifting you as he positioned himself behind you. "I'm gonna carry you. It's gonna hurt a little, but I need you to hang on."

You bit back a hiss of pain as he adjusted his hold on you, making sure not to jostle your foot too much, but you couldn’t suppress the way your body tensed at the movement. The pain was still sharp, but something was comforting in the way Joel’s arms secured around you.

“Joel,” you whispered, too exhausted to speak louder.

“I got you,” he muttered back, his voice almost a promise. "Just hang in there."

As he started to move, carrying you carefully toward a safer corner, you could feel your heart rate begin to slow, your pulse steadying slightly in the rhythm of his steps. But the ache in your ankle was still lingering.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the pain, trying to find some semblance of peace in the way Joel had his arms around you. Because no matter how mad you were, no matter how much you weren’t talking to him, Joel Miller was always going to take care of you.

Joel helped you settle into a quiet corner of the abandoned store, easing you down onto an old crate. He crouched in front of you, his hands working carefully as he pulled your boots off, careful not to jostle your ankle too much.

Ellie hovered for a second, glancing between the two of you, then rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna go check the other side of the store. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

You didn’t respond. Joel didn’t either.

Once Ellie disappeared, Joel focused back on your ankle, pulling out a roll of bandages from his pack. He was quiet as he started wrapping, his fingers gentle but firm, pressing just enough to support your injury.

You watched him for a moment, then let out a quiet scoff. “You don’t have to pretend you care about this.”

Joel’s hands stilled. His jaw ticked. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours.

“Do you think I’m pretending?” His voice was low, rough. Almost offended by the way your voice sounded saying those words.

You looked away, focusing on the peeling paint on the walls. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Joel. One second, you’re mad at me. The next, you’re acting like...like this.” You gestured vaguely at him. “Like it actually matters.”

Joel exhaled through his nose, sitting back on his heels. “It does matter. You are the most important person to me. ”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Does it? Because you sure as hell didn’t act like it when you were yelling at me.”

His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I was mad because you almost got yourself killed.”

“I was saving you.” You protested.

“I don’t need saving,” He replied, rough as always.

Your eyes snapped back to his, anger flashing in them. “And I don’t need you acting like I don’t have a say in whether or not I protect you."

Joel sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He looked exhausted, like he was carrying too much weight on his shoulders. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “I can’t—” He stopped himself, shaking his head.

You frowned, your voice softer now. “Can’t what?”

His gaze met yours again, something raw behind it. “I can’t lose you.”

The words hit you hard. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The only sound was the faint wind outside, the rustling of leaves.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “So do you think I want to lose you?”

Joel’s expression softened just a fraction. He sighed, reaching forward, his hand hesitating before resting gently on your knee.

Your breath caught. The fight, the tension, it was still there, but underneath it was something deeper.

“You are always so willing to die,” you sobbed, your voice breaking. “Like you’re just waiting for the exact moment. Like, none of this matters to you. Like, I don’t matter.”

Joel’s breath hitched. His grip on you tightened, grounding you, but he didn’t say anything.

You sniffed, shaking your head. “Do you even know what that does to me? How it makes me feel?”

He swallowed hard, his throat working around the words he wasn’t saying.

“You walk into danger like you’ve already made peace with dying,” you continued, your voice raw. “And maybe you have. Maybe you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I care. And you make me watch you throw yourself into danger like it doesn’t matter if you make it out. Like you don’t care if I have to watch you—”

Joel let out a slow breath. Then, finally, he spoke. “I do care,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

You let out a bitter laugh, swiping at your tears. “You sure don’t act like it.”

Joel’s jaw clenched. His gaze dropped for a moment before he forced himself to look at you. “I’m not waiting to die.”

You scoffed, looking away.

“I’m not,” he insisted. His voice was rough, firm. “I just…I don’t know how to protect you.” He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face before gripping the back of his neck. “I spent twenty years not giving a damn about whether I made it out of alive. And then you—” He stopped, shaking his head like he didn’t have the words.

You stared at him, waiting. His gaze met yours again, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable to your eyes.

"Do you think I would survive without you?" You asked him.

"You're strong," he stated.

"That doesn't matter if the person I love and I protect throws himself to death," you said, tired of the cycle.

“I’m not trying to--” he started, but you cut him off.

“Yes, you are,” you snapped, your voice trembling. “You act like you don’t care what happens to you, but I do, Joel. I do. And I don’t know what’s worse, watching you run into danger without thinking or knowing that if you died, you’d probably think I’d just move on.”

His brows furrowed. “That isn't-"

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around Joel’s wrist. “Do you love me, Joel?”

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say it, that maybe, after everything, he’d still hold back.

But then, his hand moved, cupping your face gently, his thumb brushing over the cut on your cheek. His touch was careful, reverent, like he was memorizing traces of your face.

“I do love you,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “More than I know how to say.”

Your breath stilled.

Joel exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “More than I ever meant to. More than I know what to do with.”

Your heart ached at the honesty in his voice.

“Then stop trying to leave me behind,” you whispered, pleading to him.

He looked at you with such intensity, as if he was trying to see past the pain and fear, trying to understand something that had always eluded him.

“How do you even love someone like me?” Joel’s voice cracked slightly, the question laced with vulnerability, a side of him you rarely saw, something raw and unprotected. He was always protecting people.

Your heart hurt at the sound of it. You wanted to reach out and erase the doubt from his mind, to tell him that he didn’t have to question it. But instead, you just looked at him, letting the silence linger for a moment, trying to gather the right words to answer him.

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm, “I love you because you’re you. Because through all the broken pieces, all the walls you’ve built around yourself, I still see the man who’s been there for me. You’re not perfect, and none of us are. But you’re the one I want. You’re the one I need.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if taking in your words, processing them, before meeting your gaze again. His expression softened, the tightness in his jaw easing, but there was still that guarded look in his eyes. He was trying to fight something inside himself, something he had carried for so long.

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, almost to himself, but you heard it loud and clear. The doubt in his voice, something he couldn’t shake.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, forcing him to see the truth in your eyes. “Stop saying that,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “You deserve me. You deserve everything good that’s coming your way. I’ve seen who you are, Joel. You’re not what you think you are.”

“Why do you think I keep pushing you away?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper now, like he was afraid of the answer himself.

You leaned in a little closer, your forehead nearly touching his, and your breath mingled in the quiet space between you. “Because you’re scared of letting yourself love me the way you do,” you said softly. “You’re scared of losing me. But pushing me away won’t make it any easier. It’ll just leave you with a regret you can’t undo.”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as if your words had struck a chord in him, but it wasn’t enough to break him completely, not yet.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m afraid if I let myself love you fully... if I let myself need you the way I do… I won’t be able to protect you. I can’t live with that.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek as you reached up to wipe it away, the tenderness in his voice catching you off guard. You could feel the pain in his words, the depth of his fear, and it only made you love him more.

Joel’s hand gently moved to your ankle, and despite everything that had just been said, the tenderness in his touch wasn’t lost on you. His rough fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully positioned your leg. You winced slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn’t the pain from your ankle that caught your attention; it was the way his eyes never left you, the quiet care he was showing in that moment.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low, trying to keep his own emotions in check. You could tell he was trying to be calm for you, even though you knew he was anything but calm inside.

Joel’s fingers moved gently over your ankle, wrapping the bandage with the precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. His touch was careful, and for once, it was soft, more like the careful tenderness of someone who didn’t want to hurt you, rather than the harshness that often came with survival.

You winced slightly when the bandage tightened, but he immediately eased his grip, looking at you with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s fine,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure why, but his care made you feel vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

Once your ankle was properly secured, Joel leaned back, looking at you for a moment, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place in them. He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you like he was trying to decide something in his mind.

Joel’s gaze went to your ankle for a moment, then, unexpectedly, he leaned forward, his lips brushing the soft skin of your bandaged ankle. It was a gesture so tender, so unexpected, that you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Don’t laugh,” he murmured, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice remained quiet, almost apologetic. “I’m just trying to make it better.”

You shook your head, still chuckling lightly, the sound feeling strange after everything that had happened. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Joel,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “It’s just... never thought you’d be kissing my ankle better.”

Joel’s smirk softened into something more tender, and for a moment, there was nothing between you but the quiet understanding. His eyes dropped back to your ankle for a brief second before lifting to meet yours once more, his expression serious. Without another word, he moved closer, his hand reaching to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your skin with the same tenderness he had shown when tending to your injury. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his lips just a breath away.

And then, without hesitation, he kissed you, soft, lingering, as if it was everything he hadn’t been able to say before. You leaned into it, letting the kiss speak for you both, the tension between you finally easing, at least for this moment in the middle of this kiss.

“Oh, come on! Seriously?” Ellie’s voice cut through the moment like a knife.

You and Joel broke apart instantly, your breath still tangled in his, as you turned to see Ellie standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a smirk pulling at her lips.

Joel cleared his throat and sat back slightly, rubbing a hand over his beard like that would somehow erase what she’d just walked in on.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I leave you two alone for five minutes, and you’re already making out. Unbelievable.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatic tone. “Ellie—”

“No, no,” she interrupted, waving a hand. “I mean, it’s kinda sweet, but gross.”

Joel shot her a look, his voice flat. “Ellie.”

“What?” She shrugged, grinning. “Just saying. But, uh—maybe save the romance for later, lovebirds? We kinda got shit to do.”

Joel exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but when he glanced at you again, you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“C’mon,” he muttered, standing up and offering you a hand. “We should get movin’.”

You took his hand, squeezing it briefly before letting go. As you stood, Ellie shot you both a smug look before turning on her heel.

As she walked away, you heard her mutter under her breath, “God, I hope I never have to see that again.”

As soon as you put weight on your injured ankle, a sharp pain shot up your leg, making you wince. You bit down on a curse, trying to tough it out, but Joel noticed immediately.

“Joel, it’s fine, I can walk,” you protested, but you could see the look in his eyes.

“Not gonna argue with me on this one. Up you go.” Before you could protest, he crouched slightly in front of you. “Get on.” He waited for you to settle onto his back, and you reluctantly complied, knowing it would be easier than walking on your own.

You blinked at him. “Joel, I can—”

He shot you a look over his shoulder. “I'm not asking...”

Ellie snorted. “Just get on, lovebird.”

You sighed, but there was no real fight left in you. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Easy, old man,” you teased, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Joel huffed, adjusting his grip. “Call me that again, and I’m dropping you.”

You laughed softly, “Thanks,” you muttered after a moment, your face buried in his jacket, still feeling the warmth of his body. The way he carried you felt like a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you needed until now.

You sighed against him, letting yourself relax just a little as Joel carried you forward with slow steps. Without thinking, you pressed a soft kiss to the side of his neck, just above the collar of his jacket.

Joel stiffened for half a second, his grip on your legs tightening before he exhaled slowly. “You trying to distract me?” His voice was lower now, rougher.

A smirk played on your lips. “Is it working?”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

You laughed, placing another kiss on the same spot, “I love you, Joel.”

His steps faltered for just a moment, barely noticeable, but you felt it. His grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your legs like he needed to ground himself.

He didn’t answer right away, just kept walking, his jaw tight. For a second, you thought maybe he wouldn’t say anything at all.

But then, in that quiet, gruff voice of his, he murmured, “I love you too, darling. Always”.

3K notes · View notes

dakusan · 28 days ago

Text

W h e r e V a m p i r e ! S K Z L i k e s t o B i t e Y o u

Vampire!SKZ OT8 x Reader | eight fangs. eight fixations. and every filthy way they ruin you where it hurts the most

🔞synopsis: You thought you knew desire. You thought you understood sex. Then they bit you. This isn't love. This is hunger. Worship. Power. A kiss laced with venom. A cock buried in your cunt while your blood runs hot down their chin. Eight vampires. Eight bite locations. Eight ways to lose your mind and beg for more.

💌a/n: Welcome to fucking Wreck Me Wednesdays. This was supposed to be “mini.” Instead I wrote eight vampire sex case files with feeding traits, bite kinks, and full-blown NSFW lore. Somewhere between Chan’s heartbite and Han's “mine mine mine,” I lost the plot and my soul. Some are longer. Some are feral. Some are shorter. All of them ruined me and they shall ruin you too. Read responsibly. Stay hydrated. Stretch your legs. Cry in the bathtub. p.s. reblog = consent to be ruined by a vampire. p.p.s. Tell me who broke you. For science. p.p.p.s. pls enjoy the song :3. i will also get to the asks later today, haven't forgotten!

⚠️ warnings: NSFW / 18+ ONLY — minors will be fed to Minho. This series contains graphic vampire smut and feral content not suitable for the emotionally stable | Bloodplay + feeding during sex | Biting (everywhere) | Obsessive/possessive behavior | Power dynamics (soft dom to unhinged dom) | Crying, overstimulation, choking on moans | Praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink | Fang kinks. Vein kinks. Chest kinks. Thigh kinks. | Oral (receiving + giving), rough sex, soft sex, bubble bath sex, rage sex

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𓆪 BANG CHAN // Abnormal Vampire Obsessed with control. Addicted to your pulse.

🩸PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Neck or heart — where the pulse is loudest. He wants to hear it skip.

💉FEEDING STYLE ‣ Controlled. Lethal. Intimate. ‣ Always timed with orgasm. May edge before bite. ‣ Often restraints you during feeding. Uses voice as a binding tool.

🫀EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Rapid heartbeat. ‣ Dissociation from overstimulation. ‣ Emotional dependency post-bite. ‣ High risk of imprinting.

⚠️PROGNOSIS ‣ Orgasmic blood-loss. ‣ Neck bites mid-thrust = blackout-level pleasure. ‣ Heart bites = ego death. Immediate sobbing. ‣ Lingering soreness + possession marks.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 001 𓆪

"Strip. Slowly."

You're standing in front of him—already trembling, already soaked. He hasn’t touched you. Not yet. Just sits back on the velvet chaise like he’s watching a performance he paid for in centuries. Legs spread. Shirt open. Mouth smiling, fangs peeking. Hands not on you.

Not yet.

You undress like you're unwrapping something forbidden. And his eyes don’t leave your chest. Not even once.

"There," he murmurs when your top hits the floor, voice like silk over blade. "It stutters when you know where I'm going to bite. Do you want it tonight?"

You nod, breathless.

"Words, darling."

"...yes. Please."

It doesn't take long, really it doesn't. Because one second you were putting on a show for him, stripping, peeling layer by later until you were naked and suddenly, you were now laid down on the bed with Chan knelt between your thighs, breathing against your cunt without touching.

With only one single kiss, not touching. Not yet.

"So warm here. You've been aching for me all night, haven't you? Dripping for me. Thinking about how it'll feel when I bite your chest and fuck you until your name melts off your tongue?"

You whimper, nod, hips twitching—but his hands grip your thighs down firm and leans forward, tongue finally moving—not inside you—no, he flicks along your folds. One stroke. One taste. Then stops.

"Mm. You're going to wait for me to bite. I'll have to make you cum with my mouth first."

He eats you out slowly. Sinfully. Like a king savouring dessert before the main course. Fingers spreading you, tongue teasing, lips sucking your clit just barely enough to make your stomach tense. Then he stops. Over and over. Until you're crying, hips grinding, begging.

"Please—Chan, please—fuck—just let me—"

"Let you what?" he says, smiling against your pussy. "Bleed? Break? Cum?"

"Yes—fuck, yes—all of it."

He hums against your cunt like you gave him a goddamn prayer.

"All of it, huh?" He drags his tongue up slowly, catching your clit just to hear the gasp he wrings from your throat. "Then keep those thighs open. Let me earn it."

And he does.

His mouth descends like a curse and a promise, this time not stopping. He licks like he’s reading scripture off your skin. Like he’s memorizing the shape of your moans. Two fingers press in, curling perfectly, while his tongue circles your clit with calculated cruelty. He’s not being sweet—he’s being precise. Every flick, every suck, every curl of his fingers is designed to make your legs tremble and your mind splinter.

“There it is,” he growls into you when your hips start bucking. “So fucking wet, baby. You gonna cum like this? Before I even bite?”

You try to answer. You really do. But it’s already happening. Your stomach tightens, thighs trembling, mouth open on a silent scream as your orgasm crashes down—hot, humiliating, perfect.

He doesn’t stop.

Licks through your orgasm, dragging it out. Groaning low, fingers still thrusting, until you’re gasping, writhing, overstimulated and dripping. Then—finally—he pulls back. Just enough to lift his head.

His mouth is wet. His chin shines with your slick. And his eyes—god, his eyes—are blown wide, black with hunger. “Now you’re ready,” he says, voice darker, lower. “Now you’ll taste right.”

He climbs up your body slowly, kneeing your thighs further apart as he goes. One hand cages your throat—not tight, just present—and the other cups your breast, thumb rubbing lazy circles around your nipple.

And then he leans in. Presses his lips right over your heart. The bite is sudden. Deep.

Your blood floods his mouth, and he moans—moans—like it’s better than sex, like it’s what he’s been starving for. His hips grind against yours as he drinks, hard cock pressing against your folds like a promise. You’re shaking beneath him—your orgasm still echoing, your body pulsing, blood pouring into his mouth like a gift only he deserves.

And then—just when you start to go dizzy—he pulls back. Fangs red. Lips stained. Chest heaving.

“Still with me?” His voice is rough, wrecked with restraint. “Because I’m not done.”

You nod—but barely. Your whole body is trembling, and your vision is hazy, floating from the orgasm and the blood loss and the fact that he bit your fucking heart like it was a fruit he’s waited centuries to taste.

And he’s still fully dressed. Shirt unbuttoned, dark slacks hugging his thighs, belt still on. You’re naked and wrecked and soaked, but he’s untouched. Pressed against you, blood-slick mouth and cock hard against your pussy—but untouched. “Look at me,” he whispers, dragging his fingers down your side, over the bite mark, over your trembling hips. “Look at me while I feed you something else.”

And then he leans back.

Slowly. Casually.

Undoing his belt with one hand, unzipping his pants like he's got all the time in the world. His eyes never leave yours as he slides them down just enough to free himself—his cock thick, flushed dark red, leaking at the tip, veins mapped like sin. You swear it twitches when he sees your thighs shake.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he murmurs, wrapping one hand around the base and giving himself a lazy pump. “Open. Dripping. Ruined. And all for me.”

He strokes himself slow, torturing, his fist sliding up over the head and back down, slicking it with precum while his other hand presses down on your lower belly, keeping you there.

“You feel that?” he asks, dragging the head of his cock through your folds. “That’s mine now. This heat. This slick little cunt. Your blood’s still warm inside me and now I’m going to fuck it back into you.”

You sob. Actually sob. Because even just the way he slides against your folds—up and down, dragging over your clit, teasing your entrance—it’s too much.

“Please, Chan,” you whisper, voice hoarse, “I want you inside—I want to feel it—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.” He lines himself up. Presses the head in just a little. Just enough to make you gasp. “You’ll take it. Every inch. Slow.”

And he means it.

He pushes in inch by devastating inch, watching your face the entire time—watching your mouth fall open, your eyes flutter, your back arch. You feel every ridge, every vein, the stretch of him parting you slowly like he’s carving space for himself where no one else belongs.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice breaking. “So fucking tight.” Another inch. Another. “God, you’re squeezing me like you missed me.”

You cry out. Not from pain. From pleasure. From the overwhelming fullness, from the feel of him dragging along your soaked, overstimulated walls.

He pauses halfway in. Just pauses—hips pressed flush, cock twitching inside you, breath hot against your cheek.

“You want more?” he asks, fangs still out. “Tell me. Tell me how bad you want me to fill you.”

“Please,” you gasp, tears spilling, voice trembling. “I need it—I need you inside—all of you—fuck, Chan, please.”

His hips snap forward. You scream. He bottoms out with one deep thrust, cock buried to the hilt, and the stretch burns so good.

“There,” he grits, grinding slow, deep, merciless. “That’s what I wanted. That fucking clench. That pretty little scream.” He stays buried in you for a moment—deep—just breathing, letting your walls flutter and your cunt adjust to the full stretch of him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, trying to lock him in, but he just smirks.

And then he starts.

Slow. Precise. The first few thrusts feel like worship—or punishment—dragging out so achingly slow that your body clenches tighter, trying to chase what he won’t give you. His hips roll, grinding into you, the thick weight of him pressing against every oversensitive inch of your soaked, blood-drunk cunt.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” he groans, head dropping to your throat as he sets a slow, grinding rhythm. “So fucking warm. So tight. You gonna cry for me again, sweetheart?”

You already are. You’re gasping, eyes glassy, body shaking as he rocks into you with that slow, devastating rhythm. One of his hands cradles your face, the other beside your head, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

And then—he leans in. Mouth dragging across your skin. Kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips, your throat. Peppering kisses like you’re sacred. His fangs scrape lightly down your neck and you twitch underneath him.

“You like that?” he whispers, lips brushing your ear. “The fangs. The pressure. You want me to bite again, don’t you?”

Your breath stutters. He knows. Of course he knows.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper. “Not until you cum on my cock. Not until I’m so deep you forget how to speak.”

He picks up the pace now—still controlled, but faster. Harder. The sound of skin slapping, of your soaked cunt swallowing him in, fills the room along with your moans. Your nails drag down his back. Your hips rise to meet his.

“That’s it. Take it, baby. Take all of me. That greedy little pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

You nod frantically. “Yes—fuck, yes—made for you, only you—”

He kisses you. Hard. Bruising. Tongue sliding past your lips like he owns your mouth too. And when he pulls back, his eyes are pitch black, fangs still bared, lips red from your blood.

“Say it again.”

“Made for you,” you cry. “Yours. Only yours.”

“Good fucking girl.”

His pace snaps harder now—deep, perfect strokes—one hand gripping your thigh, the other pressed firm against your throat. His body curves over yours, keeping you pinned while he fucks you like he’s staking a claim inside your cunt.

Your legs tighten around him. Your belly coils. You feel your orgasm building—hot and sharp and dizzying.

“You gonna cum again?” he pants, rutting harder now. “Gonna let me feel it? Let me feel that pretty little pussy milk me while I drink from your heart again?”

You sob. You nod. You beg.

“Please, please—bite me—fuck, Chan—please—”

And that’s all it takes. He thrusts deep, one last time, grinding hard against your cervix, and then bites—again—right over your heart.

You cum instantly. Your walls clench so hard around his cock it triggers his own orgasm—thick, hot, flooding you as he groans into your skin, drinking and thrusting and owning you. When he finally pulls back, he’s panting, licking the wound tenderly. Your body’s trembling—soaked, stuffed, claimed—and he just looks down at you like you’re a masterpiece.

Chan leans down, kissing your lips so softly now. "You're mine sweetheart. Bloody, body, soul."

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𓆪 LEE KNOW // Abnormal Vampire Sadist in silk. Devours screams. Fuck-first, feed-later type.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Inner thigh — where you're softest, where you beg hardest.

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Slow. Pain-laced. Erotic. ‣ Often feeds while fucking from behind. ‣ Fingerplay first—he has to feel you fall apart before the bite.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Shaking legs. Sore hips. Oversensitive clit. ‣ Mind-fracture from orgasm + blood loss combination. ‣ Known to cause dehydration, bruising, and uncontrollable sobbing. ‣ Marked behavioral changes: submission, clinginess, obsession.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Orgasm coincides with bite. Scream = trigger. ‣ Thigh bites may cause blackout + limp for 2–3 days. ‣ Post-bite euphoria. Known to whisper “again” while you’re still twitching. ‣ Irreversible addiction risk. Do not engage without safe word.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 002 𓆪

“You’re not gonna cum until I tell you to. Understand?”

His voice is silk-coated steel—low and lethal. You’re on your back, naked, legs spread wide on the silk sheets, with Lee Know fully clothed beside you. Not even undressing. Just watching. Eyes dragging over your soaked cunt like it’s something he owns. Like it exists to be ruined.

You nod, desperate.

“Use your words.” His eyes narrow, lips curling with warning. “If you want my fingers inside you, you’d better earn them.”

“Yes. I understand,” you breathe. “Please—Minho, I need it—”

He hums, finally moving. One hand strokes up your thigh, so gentle it makes you shiver. “So polite,” he murmurs. “And already dripping. All this for me?”

Two fingers press between your folds, parting you slowly. You moan. He doesn’t move fast—he just teases. Up and down, collecting slick. Spreading it messily across your clit before tapping it, sharp and precise.

You jerk. He laughs softly.

“No cumming, sweetheart,” he reminds you, before pushing a finger in.

You moan, clenching instantly. He’s slow at first, curling upward to find that spot, rubbing it deliberately. Then a second finger. Scissoring, stretching. His thumb rubs lazy circles over your clit, but never enough. Never fast.

And when you start to tighten around him, about to tip over—he pulls out.

You scream. He smiles.

“Again,” he says, and starts over. Fingers, curl, rub, drag—stop. Over. And over. By the fourth time, your body’s twitching. Your thighs shake. Your hands are fisting the sheets. “Minho—fuck, please—I’m going to lose it—”

“Good.” He leans over, mouth brushing your ear. “Then maybe you’ll behave.”

He grabs your hips, flips you over in one smooth motion—onto your knees, chest to the sheets. One hand presses between your shoulder blades, forcing your spine into a perfect arch. The other? Slipping down to play with your pussy again.

“You’re so wet baby,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers back through your folds. “I’ve barely done anything.”

You sob into the sheets. Then you feel it—his tongue. On your inner thigh. Not your pussy. Not yet. Just slow, deliberate licks on the sensitive skin right near your pulse point.

You freeze.

“Oh, did you think I’d forgotten about the bite?” he purrs.

He kisses the skin first. Then bites. His fangs sink in with a sharp, hot pain that melts instantly into pure fucking ecstasy. Your vision goes white. Your arms give out. You cry out, body trembling as blood leaves you in slow, sensual pulses.

And the second his mouth pulls back—

He’s undoing his pants.

You hear the belt unbuckle. The zipper lower. Then feel it—his cock, thick and flushed, dragging through your soaked folds. “You want this?” he asks, voice darker now. “Want to be fucked while your thighs are still bleeding?”

“Yes—fuck, yes—please—”

He slides in.

No warning. No mercy. One smooth, brutal thrust that knocks the air out of you. His hips slam into your ass, cock buried to the hilt, and he groans—deep and guttural—like he just found heaven inside your cunt. “Fuck,” he pants, grabbing your hips with bruising force. “So tight. Still twitching from that bite?”

He doesn’t wait.

He starts moving. Deep, hard thrusts that punch cries from your throat. Your back arches, cheek pressed to the sheets as he fucks you in a perfect rhythm—every stroke hitting exactly where you need him.

And he does not stop.

“Cry for me,” he growls, slapping your ass. “Scream. Let them hear how good I fuck what’s mine.”

You scream. You cry. You babble his name like a prayer.

“That’s right,” he hisses, hips snapping faster. “Fucking perfect.”

You’re gone. Broken. Bleeding. Full. And when your orgasm is close, when you're just about to cum—he doesn’t stop you. “Let go,” he pants. “Give it to me. I want to feel this cunt strangle my cock.”

You do. You collapse, sobbing, shaking, cumming so hard your thighs go limp. But he doesn’t stop.

Minho groans through his teeth and keeps thrusting—fucking you through your orgasm like he’s chasing something deeper. His grip bruises your hips, cock dragging through your soaked, fluttering walls, harder now, rougher.

“You sound so pretty when you break,” he mutters, voice wrecked. “I can feel it. Every pulse. Every squeeze. You're milking my cock like you want me to stay inside forever.”

You whimper, twitching under him, nerves fried, cunt still clenching in aftershocks. Your body is shaking—numb, overstimulated—but he fucks you through it, like you owe him every second.

“I’m close,” he growls, burying himself deep. “Gonna fill you up—fuck, just like this—”

A sharp snap of his hips, one final grind—and then he spills into you with a broken sound, teeth bared, fangs glinting. His cum is hot, thick, flooding your sore cunt as he presses as deep as he can, breathing hard against your spine.

But he’s not done. Not even close.

The second his cock slips free—wet and dripping with both of you—he’s flipping you over again. Your body’s limp, arms trembling, blood drying sticky on your thigh. You can barely focus. Barely breathe.

But you feel him. The press of his mouth. The heat of his breath.

“Still bleeding here,” he murmurs, fingers parting your thigh. “And you’re still so warm.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer before he bites again.

Same thigh. New wound.

You scream—not from pain, but from the crash of sensation. The moment his fangs sink in, your body floods with another unbearable wave. You’re twitching, crying, clenching around nothing—your cunt soaked, still dripping his cum—while he drinks, slow and deep.

Every pull of his mouth makes your stomach tighten. Your hands claw at the sheets. You’re delirious—gone—his mouth on your thigh, blood leaving in perfect rhythm with the mess between your legs.

He moans softly against your skin. Then he pulls back. Lips stained. Fangs gleaming. Blood running down your thigh like a love letter written in ruin.

He crawls over your body, eyes dark and hungry still. “I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs, licking the blood from his lips. “But I’ll let you rest…”

One hand strokes your cheek, surprisingly soft.

“For now.”

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑 𓆪 SEO CHANGBIN // Normal Vampire Made of muscle, menace, and moans..

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Below the ribs or just above the hipbone

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Possessive. Worshipful. ‣ He growls when he drinks, like it's carnal. ‣ Usually feeds during sex. Leaves deep bruises around the wound from how hard he grips.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Breathless moaning. ‣ Clawing, overstimulated orgasms. ‣ Emotional grounding. Heightened intimacy. ‣ High likelihood of imprinting if bitten more than once.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Feral rut-level fucking. ‣ Bruised hips, shaky legs, blood-drunk sobs. ‣ Bite leaves a phantom heat that spreads like wildfire. ‣ Will absolutely carry you to a bath after and tell you you did so well.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 003 𓆪

You were teasing him. You didn’t mean to—but you were.

The corset was tight. The skirt was short. Your lipstick matched the red of your bite mark from two nights ago. You were only supposed to drop off the file he needed but you knew what the outfit would do to him. What it always did.

And the moment he looked up from his desk and saw you?

All bets were off.

He’s already panting when he slams the door shut behind you. One heartbeat later, you're pinned to the wall—hard. His broad chest flush against your back, his breath already ragged and hot against your ear.

You hear the low, animalistic growl deep in his chest before you feel it—rumbling through you like a warning.

Or a promise.

Because you’re standing there in his office after midnight, wearing nothing but a black lace corset that cups your breasts high, a tiny pleated skirt that barely covers your ass, and delicate panties—thin, sheer, soaked. Stockings, too. Garter belt. Lip gloss still shimmering.

You knew what you were doing.

And so does he.

“Take that shit off,” he growls, voice already thick with bloodlust and need.

You turn—barely—and meet his eyes. They’re black. Fully fucking black.

And you’re soaked.

“Changbin—” you whisper, breath hitching, thighs pressing together. It’s not a protest. It’s a plea.

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t ask. One sharp tug and your corset jerks loose at the back—ripped. Another growl, and your panties are shredded in his hands, lace in tatters. The air hits your bare skin and you whimper.

“You fucking tease,” he snarls, grabbing a handful of your ass. “Walking in here dressed like this? Like a fucking offering?”

You squeak as he grabs you under the thighs and lifts—one arm. Just one arm and you're airborne, slammed back against the wall like you weigh nothing to him.

Because to him? You’re not fragile. You’re his.

His mouth crashes into yours—hot, brutal, claiming. His tongue is deep before you can breathe. Fangs brush your lower lip and nick the skin just enough for blood to bloom, sweet and fresh, and he moans against your mouth.

“You wore this for me?” he growls between kisses. “Fucking knew it. Knew you were trying to get ruined.”

You nod frantically, breathless. “Please—need it—need you—”

Then he drops. To his knees. Fast. Like gravity yanked him straight down. He’s still fully dressed in black slacks, fitted shirt, sleeves rolled up. Muscles bulging, chest heaving, mouth already parted. And you? You’re bare now—corset loosened, panties gone, skirt hiked up around your waist, legs trembling over his shoulders.

Your back hits the cold wall. Your pussy is right at his eye level. And he looks up at you like he’s about to worship you.

Or destroy you.

“Fucking look at you,” he growls, dragging his thumbs up your inner thighs to spread you wider. “You're soaked. All this for me?”

You can’t speak. You nod. His smirk turns feral. “Good.”

He doesn't waist a second, Changbin devours you.

No teasing. No buildup. His tongue dives in like he’s starving—wide and wet, licking through your folds with a brutal, messy hunger that makes you cry out on impact.

“F-fuck—Changbin—”

He groans. Moans into your pussy like it’s his favorite meal, nose buried, chin soaked, lips dragging up your slit again and again until they’re flushed and swollen with your slick. His tongue curls up to your clit—flicks, circles, sucks. Sloppy and relentless.

Then?

He starts making out with it.

No joke. Full mouth. Open, hot, filthy kisses against your cunt—like he’s Frenching your pussy with every ounce of his desperate need. Tongue moving deep inside, then sliding up to wrap around your clit, sucking hard, then soft, then hard again. Over and over.

Your legs are shaking on his shoulders.

He drags one arm around your ass, pressing you closer to his mouth, while his free hand slides two thick fingers inside—curling, fucking, spreading your walls until you're gasping like you’re being split open.

He’s growling into your cunt, fingers pounding, tongue flicking your clit like he’s trying to drag the orgasm out of you with brute force.

“Come on,” he pants between slurps. “Give it to me. Cum on my tongue, baby—now—”

Your scream tears through the room. It breaks you. Your orgasm hits like a punch to the gut—raw, loud, endless. Your whole body locks. Your thighs clamp around his head. Your vision goes black for a second.

And he fucking loves it.

Keeps sucking through it. Fingers still thrusting. His mouth sealing over your clit again as if your climax is what he’s been waiting for all day.

Only when you’re gasping, limp, twitching—only then does he finally rise.

And fuck, he looks good.

Mouth soaked. Chin gleaming. Eyes still black. Fangs bared.

You barely have time to catch your breath before his hands are moving—fast. Belt undone with a sharp snap, pants shoved down, briefs yanked below his thighs. His cock springs free—thick, flushed, already leaking at the tip. Harder than sin.

You don’t even get a chance. Because suddenly—he lifts you. Again. Effortlessly. Strong arms under your thighs, back slammed against the wall. And this time, he doesn’t wait.

He slams into you.

One thrust—brutal, perfect—and he’s fully inside. Stretching you open. Your head rolls back, mouth open in a soundless scream as your cunt grips him like a vice.

“Fuck—yes,” he snarls against your throat. “That’s it—tight little pussy—knew you could take it.”

He doesn’t stop.

He fucks you into the wall. Rough. Desperate. Fast and deep and relentless. The slap of skin on skin echoes, your moans ricochet off the walls, and his name is the only thing you remember how to say.

“Changbin—Changbin—oh fuck—”

He groans against your skin. “You’re mine.”

And then?

He bites. Hard.

Right into your neck—fangs sinking deep, blood spilling into his mouth like wine from a sacred chalice. You scream, thighs trembling, orgasm threatening again just from the pain, the pressure, the possessive violence of it.

But he’s not done.

He licks the bite. Bites again—your shoulder this time. Then your collarbone. Then your neck again.

Everywhere.

Like he needs you in his mouth, over and over, just to stay grounded. Like drinking you is the only thing keeping him sane. His cock is ruthless inside you—dragging through your soaked walls, pounding harder each time you clench around him.

Your head spins.

He’s drunk on you. Absolutely gone.

“Fucking addictive,” he snarls. “Gonna mark you everywhere. Fill you up. Drain you dry. Fuck—this pussy’s perfect—squeezing me like it wants to bleed.”

Your hands claw at his back. Your nails dig into his shoulders. He loves it. Groans from deep in his chest. Slams into you even harder.

“Take it,” he growls. “Fucking take it. All of it. Don’t you dare stop squeezing me—make me cum, baby.”

You do.

Your orgasm hits again, body seizing, cunt fluttering around his cock like it’s made to wring him dry—and he loses it.

With a guttural snarl, he slams in deep—hips grinding, cock twitching as he spills inside you in heavy, scorching pulses.

But he doesn’t pull out.

Doesn’t move.

Just stays there—cock buried, teeth still scraping your neck, hands fisting in your hair and thigh like you’re the only thing anchoring him to this plane.

He pants. Shudders. Then licks your wounds. Gently. Worshipfully.

“Mine,” he whispers, pressing kisses to every bite mark. “Fucking mine. And I’m never letting go.”

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𓆪 HWANG HYUNJIN // Abnormal Vampire Beauty made ruin. Moans like a prayer. Kisses like a curse.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Pulse points — wrists, neck, inner thighs

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Hypnotic. Addictive. Laced in poetry and pain. ‣ Always bites during orgasm. Sometimes mid-cry. ‣ Tongue traces first. Fangs follow like a kiss you asked for in a dream.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Euphoria-induced sobbing. Clutching, clawing, surrendering. ‣ Heart palpitations, glossy eyes, speech loss ‣ Often left with multiple bite marks in one session—each placed like a secret

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Known to say “You’re mine” while you’re still moaning. ‣ Multiple orgasms expected. Blood + sex high overlap. ‣ Post-bite daze may last hours. Often found still shaking in his arms. ‣ Extreme bond-forming. Danger of becoming his favorite. And never leaving.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 004 𓆪

You feel him before you see him.

That overwhelming stillness, the kind that drowns out thought. Your breath catches—and then there he is, walking in like a vision, black silk shirt half-buttoned, pale chest glistening, golden hair slightly damp like he’s just stepped out of a dream.

Hyunjin doesn't speak at first. He just walks toward you. Barefoot. Soft steps. Eyes fixed on you like you’re the only thing in the world that exists.

And then?

“You wore my favorite,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing the strap of your lace slip. “Ivory. Like fresh canvas.”

His lips ghost over your collarbone. Not a kiss. Not yet.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he whispers, “all night. What color you’ll bleed for me. What sound you’ll make when I make you fall apart.”

You tremble.

He lifts your chin gently, eyes gleaming obsidian. “Lie back, baby. Let me paint.”

You obey, shivering as you settle onto the bed—bare skin against cool silk, thighs pressed together from sheer need. He doesn’t make you wait long. Just climbs over you slowly, like you’re delicate, precious, sacred.

And then his mouth is on your wrist. Kissing. Worshipping.

“I’ll start here,” he breathes. “Where your pulse is softest.”

The bite is slow. Precise. A sharp flash of heat as his fangs pierce your skin, followed by dizzying pleasure—almost like he’s sipping your soul. He groans, low and ruined, as your blood coats his tongue.

“Mmm… divine,” he whispers against your wrist, pulling back only to let the droplets smear along his lips. “But I want more.”

His hands trail down. One over your breast, teasing your nipple, the other slipping between your thighs.

“You’re soaked,” he hums, licking the blood off his fingers. “Did you get this wet just from the bite?”

You nod. He smiles like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

Then—he spreads you.

Kisses down your body, trailing open-mouthed devotion from your chest to your stomach, thighs, then—

“Oh, fuck—Hyunjin—”

He groans as he reaches your cunt, breathing deep. “So pretty,” he murmurs, “and all mine.” Hyunjin leans in to press a kiss over your clit. Soft. Like the place between your legs is a cathedral and he's repenting with every breath.

His lips brush your folds. Once. Twice. Then his tongue flattens against your clit, slow and wide, dragging up until your hips twitch off the bed.

“Sweet,” he breathes, eyes fluttering closed. “So fucking sweet—like nectar, like stars, like sin.”

You moan.

He moans louder.

Because Hyunjin isn’t just eating you out. He’s savoring. Every lick is long and deliberate, every press of his tongue a whispered poem. He swirls around your clit—soft at first, then pointed—then sucks it into his mouth with such aching, focused gentleness you cry out without warning.

“Hyunjin—”

He groans at the sound of his name. The vibration floods through your cunt.

“Say it again,” he whispers against you, then kisses your clit again like it’s your mouth. “Please. Sing for me.”

“Hyunjin—fuck—please—”

You can’t help it. You’re squirming, writhing, lost beneath him. Your thighs tremble around his head but he doesn’t let go. One arm wraps behind your waist, anchoring you to his mouth like he can’t stand the idea of you pulling away.

His tongue starts to move faster—up, down, circle, suck—messy, wet, worshipful.

Slurping sounds fill the air. His own moans grow desperate. He drags you closer, face buried deep, nose pressed against your clit, tongue flicking mercilessly now. Like he’s not kissing anymore—he’s feasting.

You sob.

You’re panting his name like a spell now. Your back arches. Your thighs clamp.

His fingers dig into your skin. His tongue curls up and in. Every noise you make feeds him. Fuels him. Until he’s drunk on it. High on it.

High on you.

When you cum, it’s violent. Like drowning in silk. You clench around nothing, but feel everything. Your body locks. Your mind breaks. Your mouth opens—but nothing comes out.

And Hyunjin just groans. Like your orgasm was inevitable. A masterpiece finished.

He licks you through it. Sucks gently on your clit like he’s coaxing the last bits of your soul out through your cunt. Then another kiss. And another. Until he finally slows, breath ragged, mouth glossy with you.

His eyes rise to meet yours. Black. Dilated. Reverent.

Your breathing’s still erratic. Limbs heavy. The aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you in soft, involuntary flinches. And Hyunjin just watches. Licks his lips, eyes locked on the trembling between your thighs like it’s the final frame of a painting he’s not done signing.

Then? He shifts.

You barely register it until his mouth is on your inner thigh.

Not rushed. Not greedy. Just—gentle. Open-mouthed kisses along the softest part of you. His fangs slide out.

You feel the sharp brush of them ghost over your skin. He drags them softly, so softly, up the inside of your thigh, until your hips twitch from the sheer anticipation.

Then—

The bite.

It’s deep. Precise. His fangs sink into the flesh of your inner thigh like they were made for this—like your body was crafted just for his teeth. The sting is immediate, yes, but it blooms so quickly into pleasure that your head falls back, lips parted in a choked gasp.

Hyunjin groans the moment your blood hits his tongue.

His hands grip your thighs tighter, anchoring you as he drinks. Slow at first. Then deeper. His throat works in soft, rhythmic swallows. You can hear it. The slick sound of him feeding.

And all the while—he moans.

Like he’s tasting divinity. You try to move. He growls. “Stay still.” he breathes against your wound.

He licks the blood as it trails, mouth sticky and stained. Then another kiss. Another bite. This time, just a little higher—closer to where he just worshipped you with his tongue.

You gasp. The pleasure-pain bursts behind your eyes.

“Hyunjin—please—”

He hums your name into your skin. Wipes his mouth on your thigh like a signature. Then finally climbs up your body, hovering above your face. Eyes on your perfect pillowy lips, but he doesn't kiss immediately. He just hovers. Lets you see the blood on his lips—your blood—before whispering: “You’re mine, now. I’ll paint you in bruises and bites."

Then he kisses you.

Tongue deep. Copper-sweet. Blood-warm and you melt. Melt like puddle in his arms. His arms, exactly where you belong.

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 𓆪 HAN JISUNG // Normal Vampire Chaos incarnate. Bites first, thinks later. Addicted to your blood and your moans—equally.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Side of the neck ‣ Also: your chest, your fingers, your thighs—he’s not picky. Just rabid.

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Chaotic, breathless, unrestrained. ‣ Often bites mid-fuck or right after you cum. ‣ Will feed and finger you at the same time, panting into your blood. ‣ Tastes you like he’s making out with your pulse.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Overstimulation. Dizziness. Bite-high. ‣ Orgasms feel drugged—like you're floating underwater. ‣ Can trigger full-body shivers, sobbing, giggles, and collapsing. ‣ Irregular heartbeat post-bite. Known to laugh while you cry.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Bite syncs with his orgasm. ‣ Feeds multiple times in one session—don’t expect to walk. ‣ Cums from your taste. Known to say “I need you again” before he’s even pulled out. ‣ Proceed with caution: addiction is mutual.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 005 𓆪

Han Jisung is already naked.

He wasn’t supposed to be. He was supposed to wait. But the second you walked into his apartment—short skirt, bare thighs, lipgloss still wet—he lost his fucking mind. Clothes gone. Fangs out. The kind of wide, dangerous grin that promised disaster and begged for it, too.

“You’re gonna ride me, yeah?” he pants, back hitting the bed with a thud. “Wanna see your tits bounce while I bite you.”

You swallow. Nod.

“No, no—c’mon,” he grins, already breathless. “Say it. Say you’re gonna ride me like you mean it.”

“I’m gonna ride you, Ji,” you whisper, crawling over him. “So fucking hard.”

“Fuck yes—” His head drops back, eyes fluttering. “My girl.”

You straddle him, feeling his cock hot and thick between your folds. He’s already leaking, already twitching beneath you. Your slick coats him in seconds. But he doesn’t thrust—no, he waits. Lets you drag your hips up and down until you’re both dizzy with it.

And then—you sink down.

“FUCK—” he cries, hands flying to your hips, gripping so tight you’ll bruise. “Shit—so warm—so tight—don’t move—fuck, baby, let me feel you like this—”

But you move anyway.

Start slow. Grinding your hips in circles, milking moans from his throat. He looks wrecked—sweaty, flushed, eyes half-lidded and glowing red. One hand sneaks up to grope your tits. The other stays on your hip, flexing with every grind.

When you start bouncing? He chokes.

“God—fuck—ride me—ride me, baby, please—”

You do.

Faster. Harder. Until your thighs burn and your pussy tightens with each drop. His mouth is everywhere—licking your collarbone, mouthing at your nipples, biting into your neck without warning.

He drinks. Moans into the wound. Licks the blood like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

You scream.

Not from pain—from pleasure so sharp it cuts. He pulls back, blood smeared on his lips, gasping like you just fucked the soul out of him. “You taste like heaven,” he whispers. “Fuck—I’m gonna cum—baby, cum with me, ride me until we break—”

You do. Together.

A shared orgasm that hits like a freight train. Your cunt tightens around him in rhythmic spasms, and he holds you through it—groaning, babbling praise, licking blood from your skin while he cums so hard his whole body shudders beneath you.

But he’s not done.

Because your chest is rising and falling—vulnerable, flushed—and he leans up, presses one last kiss between your tits.

Then bites again.

And again.

Your body’s still trembling. Muscles twitching. Slick and cum sliding down your thighs where he’s still buried deep inside you, twitching with aftershocks.

But Jisung?

He’s laughing.

Low. Breathless. A little too unhinged to be safe.

“You’re still warm,” he pants, lapping at your collarbone like it’s glazed in sugar. “Still fucking clenching around me. You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

You try to answer. You really do. But your brain has melted. Your mouth just opens—gasping—and that’s when he bites again.

Right above your heart.

You scream. Loud and broken. His fangs sink into skin like it’s the only place he belongs—like he can claim you from the inside out. He drinks like you’re water and he’s been parched for centuries. Moans like your blood makes him high. His cock twitches inside you, still half-hard and swelling again.

“Fuck—” he breathes, pulling back, his lips coated crimson. “You’re sweeter here. I knew you would be.”

Then he tilts his head. Looks down.

Sees it.

His cum.

Dripping out of your pussy like melted candlewax. A creamy mess of lust and love and loss of control. “Oh my fucking god,” he groans, manic. “I made you drip like this?”

A pause, a sharp inhale.

“Addicted,” he whispers. “Completely fucking addicted. You don’t even know—baby, I need—”

He bites again. Your shoulder this time. Then the other side of your neck. Then the curve of your breast.

He kisses each one after, messy and frantic, tongue smearing blood and spit across your skin like a mad artist painting his masterpiece.

And then?

He flips you. Again.

Pins you down now, hands on either side of your head, his mouth dragging over your body like he can’t choose where to ruin you next. I want to fuck you again,” he confesses, breath shaking. “Want to stay inside forever. Want to drink until I forget my name.”

“You already did,” you whisper, hoarse.

He grins. Wide. Bloody.

“Good.”

And then he bites again. This time? Your mouth.

Kisses you so hard his fangs nick your lip. Blood trickles in. He licks it up like a shot of liquor, hands gripping your thighs, your ass, your tits—anywhere he can touch.

"I love you. Mine, mine, mine forever."

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 𓆪 LEE FELIX // Abnormal Vampire Soft on the surface, deadly underneath. Sleeps in silk, fucks like a fever dream.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Over the heart or the curve of your breast

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Gentle at first. Almost shy. Kisses before teeth. ‣ Feeds while holding you close—rocking, murmuring sweet things into your skin. ‣ But when hunger takes over? He gets lost. Mouth drunk. Eyes glazed. Almost feral.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Full-body shivers. Skin hypersensitive. ‣ Overstimulation from prolonged oral + emotional collapse after the bite. ‣ Heightened affection post-bite—clinginess, sobbing, echo-pleasure. ‣ Bite mark often becomes an erogenous zone.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Dreamwalkers induce trance-like states in partners. Bite can cause mild hallucinations. ‣ Reader may experience floating sensation + blackout orgasms. ‣ Blood-sharing with Felix forms rapid bond. Extremely addictive. ‣ Warning: prolonged exposure may result in crying during aftercare. And begging for more.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 006 𓆪

The penthouse is quiet when you return.

Shoes off. Dress unzipped. Champagne still singing in your veins from the gala. Felix walks in behind you, shrugging off his velvet blazer, golden curls loose around his temples, skin glowing under soft amber lighting.

He looks too good—black silk shirt open at the chest, fangs glinting behind his smile, eyes already darker than they should be. Not hunger. Something else.

Devotion.

"You were perfect tonight," he murmurs, fingers ghosting your waist as he draws you toward the bathroom. “But I didn’t like sharing you.”

Your heartbeat stutters. “You weren’t exactly subtle either,” you whisper, recalling the way his hand had stayed glued to your lower back all evening, lips to your ear at every chance, voice dipped low with possessive undertones. Like you were his prize.

His worship.

His next meal.

Felix chuckles. “No. I wasn’t.”

The tub fills behind you—steaming, lavender-scented, full of white foam and rose petals. His idea, of course. He always did prefer indulgence after restraint.

He helps you in like you’re made of porcelain. Your skin sinks into the warmth with a sigh. Felix climbs in after, settling behind you, legs spread so you’re seated snugly between them. Your back hits his bare chest, and already, you can feel it.

The thrum beneath his skin. The restraint snapping thread by thread.

“You wore that dress to kill me,” he murmurs, mouth against your neck. “Slit up to your hip. No bra. Lace so sheer I could see the curve of your nipples under every chandelier.”

You smile. “And?”

“And now I’m going to take my time with you.”

His hands cup your breasts from behind. Thumbs flicking your nipples. Bubbles cling to his wrists, his forearms. His lips drag up your neck. Soft. Featherlight.

Then sharp.

A kiss first—then a bite.

Fangs sink in, clean and deep, right beneath your jaw. You gasp, head falling back against his shoulder as the pain melts into pleasure. He drinks slow—just a few sips, just enough to make you squirm—and licks the wound clean with a reverent groan.

“So sweet tonight,” he whispers. “You taste like champagne and sin.”

You whimper.

His hands trail lower. One slips down between your thighs, parting you under the water, fingers pressing into your cunt with aching care. The other? Gliding over your thigh, then gripping it, spreading you wider for him.

He doesn’t tease.

Two fingers sink in—slick, hot, stretching you open as the water laps around you. His thumb finds your clit, circles slow and steady. The angle is perfect. Deep. Focused.

"You always take me so well,” he breathes into your skin. “Even when you’re trembling.”

You are. Shaking, helpless, your body already wrung too tight. The bite. The warmth. The way he touches you like he’s composing a symphony.

And then—he pulls you closer.

“Ride me,” he whispers. “Like you did the last time I fed on your heart.”

You whimper. Turn in his arms, straddling him with the water sloshing over the edge. His cock is already hard, flushed, pressed against your stomach as you rise onto your knees.

He watches you. Eyes half-lidded. Blood-drunk.

When you sink down on him—slow, stretching around his thick length—you both moan. Your nails dig into his shoulders. His hands grip your waist like he’s anchoring himself to reality.

“Fuck—baby—you feel like velvet,” he chokes out. “So wet. So fucking warm—”

You start to move.

The rhythm is gentle at first. Slippery skin, heavy breaths, the sound of water shifting with every roll of your hips. Felix bites your shoulder. Then your collarbone. Then lower, tongue lapping blood before it cools, fangs sinking in again like he’s trying to mark every inch.

You're bleeding. You're riding. You're both coming undone.

“Look at you,” he groans. “Dripping for me. Bleeding for me. My perfect little canvas.”

Your orgasm builds like a tide—slow, inevitable. His cock hits all the right places, his hands guiding you faster, his mouth sealing over your throat for one final bite as he moans into your skin.

“Cum for me,” he pants. “Feed me while you fall apart.”

Your whole body tenses—like a wave crashing against fragile glass.

And then it shatters.

You break apart on him with a choked cry, thighs trembling, nails clawing down his back. Your orgasm ripples out in hot, helpless pulses, cunt fluttering around him, blood still seeping slowly from your bitten throat as you collapse forward into his arms.

Felix growls.

The sound vibrates through his chest, deep and guttural—feral with need. His mouth seals tighter around your neck, and he drinks as you shake through your climax. Every pull of his lips sends fresh aftershocks rolling through you. You're twitching, overstimulated, undone.

“That's it,” he whispers, lips stained, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. “That’s my angel. Give me everything.”

He swallows every drop like he needs it to survive. Like your pleasure is the only thing that can keep him sane.

When he finally releases your throat, his tongue traces the wound—gentle now, reverent, like he’s kissing the holiest part of you. Blood paints his chin. His cock still buried inside you, twitching, heavy, throbbing.

Then—he lifts his head.

You see it in his face. The complete loss of control. His pupils blown wide, lips red, hair clinging to his temples in damp, golden waves. His hands clutch your waist again—and he thrusts up once, hard, a broken moan escaping his throat.

“Oh—fuck—” he gasps. “I’m gonna—”

You’re still pulsing around him. Still warm, wet, perfect.

He buries himself deeper, spilling into you with a low, desperate groan. His mouth finds yours mid-release, kissing you like he’s tasting eternity. Tongue slick with blood and love. You’re breathless, trembling, still locked together in the cooling water—and only then does he speak again. Softly. Against your lips.

“You’re divine.”

You smile weakly, forehead to his. “So are you.”

Felix brushes a petal from your shoulder. One last kiss to your jaw. One last whispered truth, low and sacred:

“I’d bleed for you too.”

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𓆪 KIM SEUNGMIN // Normal Vampire The gentleman with a scalpel smile. Clinical precision. Calculated hunger.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Inner arm — intimate, exposed, and close to your heart. ‣ Sometimes the chest or side of your ribs

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Calm. Measured. Strategic. ‣ He plans his bites—timed, placed, controlled. ‣ Often feeds during emotional peaks—after soft sobs, laughter, confessions, or sex. ‣ Gentle on the surface, but watch closely: there’s a dangerous edge underneath.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Heart rate spike followed by unusual stillness. ‣ Floating sensation. Hallucination-like euphoria. ‣ Skin hypersensitivity for hours after. ‣ Develops strong dependency on his praise and attention.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Low-risk externally—but internally, you’ll never forget the way he says your name. ‣ Prolonged feeding can induce dreamlike sedation or emotional bonding states. ‣ Known to leave almost invisible marks—but you feel them for days. ‣ Vulnerability spike: tendency to confess secrets or cry in his arms after.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 007 𓆪

You hadn’t spoken in over an hour.

Not since the fight.

Not since he said, “Maybe if you didn’t run every time we got too close, I wouldn’t have to wonder if you actually want this.”

You’d slammed the door to the bedroom. Now you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in one of his shirts, staring at the wall like it’s going to offer answers. It doesn’t.

The air is tight. Tense. Like everything’s been coiled too long.

Then—you hear his footsteps.

And suddenly, he’s there.

Seungmin doesn’t speak. Doesn’t shout. He just walks over, grabs your jaw with cold fingers, and tilts your head up.

“You want to be left alone?” he asks quietly. “Or do you want me to make you feel something again?”

Your breath stutters. That look in his eyes—sharp, calculating, barely restrained—isn’t the usual teasing calm.

This is something else.

You whisper, “Make me.”

And just like that—he snaps.

You’re pushed back against the bed. His body cages yours, knees on either side of your hips, hands pinning your wrists above your head. You gasp, arching—but he doesn’t give you time to speak.

“I hate fighting with you,” he growls, voice low and lethal. “You know that?”

You nod, breathless.

“But you push me. You always push. And then you run, and I let you. But not tonight.”

His lips crash to yours—angry, desperate, hungry. You kiss back just as hard, teeth clashing, tongues twisting. Seungmin bites your lip—draws blood. Licks it up like you’re wine and he’s parched. “Take it off,” he demands, tugging at the shirt. You pull it over your head, baring yourself to him completely and his eyes darken.

His eyes scan your body like he owns it. Like he's earned it. Then—he lets go.

Just releases your wrists and leans back, chest heaving. You blink, confused, but he only settles onto the mattress, dark hair mussed. One arm folded behind his head. The other gestures lazily down his own body.

“Take your panties off.”

You hesitate.

He raises a brow. “Now.”

You obey.

Silently, you slide the soft lace down your thighs, aware of how his gaze never leaves your center. You think—maybe—he wants you to straddle his face. Let him taste the slick that’s already gathering between your legs.

But Seungmin has other plans.

“Turn around,” he murmurs. “Back to me.”

You do, breath catching.

“On your knees. Over my chest.”

And that’s when it hits you.

You’re not riding his mouth. He’s placing you above him, facing the length of his body, and when you obey—when your hands brace on the bed and your knees sink beside his ribs—he shifts both of you down.

So now he’s under you. And your soaked pussy is right above his mouth. But his cock? Hard. Heavy. Inches from your face.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he growls. “And keep it open while I ruin you.”

You barely have time to whimper before his hands are gripping your hips, dragging your pussy down to his mouth. His tongue licks one long stripe through your folds before his fangs sink into the plush of your thigh with no warning, no restraint.

You cry out.

But then—you moan.

Because his mouth is everywhere. Kissing. Biting. Tongue fucking you while blood still runs hot against his lips. He’s feeding and pleasuring, starving and devout all at once.

And you?

You finally do what he told you.

Shaky hands pulling down his grey sweatpants and his briefs, his cock springing out, hard, leaking, throbbing.

You lean forward. Wrap one hand around the base of his cock. The other balances on his thigh. And then—you sink your mouth over him, slow at first, tongue pressing to the underside of the thick, pulsing length that jerks the moment you moan around it.

He groans.

Deep in his throat. A growl of praise.

“Just like that,” he breathes against your cunt. “Take it all, baby. Feed me while I fuck your throat.”

You do.

Mouth stuffed full of his cock, your hips rocking over his face as he feasts between your thighs like you’re the cure to every craving. His tongue works in circles—then flicks. His fingers dig into your ass, spreading you wider, holding you still when your thighs start shaking.

You’re dripping. Gagging. Gasping for air.

And Seungmin? He never lets up. Every time your mouth slides down over his length, he rewards you with another harsh suck, another bite to your thigh, another moan against your clit that sends you reeling.

Until you’re both right there.

Teetering. Desperate. Drenched in sweat, saliva, and blood.

Then—his cock throbs. Your walls flutter. Your body clenches around nothing as the orgasm explodes from your spine, rolling over you like a wave of fire.

Your juices soak his mouth. He drinks. Groaning. Devouring. Never stopping.

Your body trembles through the high and just as you release his cock from your mouth, gasping, your hand wraps around his base again, stroking him once, twice before he finally cums. All over your chest. Your mouth which you made sure to keep open. Your tongue.

Seungmin is panting, eyes dark, lips red, blood dripping from his mouth like wine and he licks your inner thigh again. "Feel better now?" he asks hoarsely.

You collapse sideways onto the mattress, dizzy and dazed. "Fuck you," you whisper.

He smirks.

"You already did. But unless you want more, I'm happy to oblige~"

𓆩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𓆪 YANG JEONGIN // Normal (Evolving Abnormal) Vampire The sweet boy with the sharpest bite. Addicted to affection. Dangerous when starved.

🩸 PREFERRED BITE LOCATION ‣ Shoulder blade, inner thigh & lower back

💉 FEEDING STYLE ‣ Emotional. Impulsive. Clingy. ‣ Bites happen mid-kiss, mid-moan, mid-breakdown. ‣ Never feeds clean—always leaves marks. ‣ Mouthy. Sloppy. Overwhelmed. Often doesn’t stop until you pull him off.

🫀 EFFECT ON SUBJECT ‣ Heavy euphoria followed by crashing neediness. ‣ Breathing becomes erratic. Limbs tremble. ‣ Intense emotional projection—feels what you feel, tenfold. ‣ Causes your body to crave touch long after the bite ends.

⚠️ PROGNOSIS ‣ Unpredictable: safest when loved, most lethal when rejected. ‣ High risk for overfeeding during sex due to overstimulation. ‣ Known to whimper while drinking. ‣ Will worship you for hours afterward like he’s trying to say sorry with every kiss.

𓆩 CASE STUDY 008 𓆪

You’re still wearing it.

That lingerie set—the one in soft wine-red lace, delicate enough to tear, pretty enough to drive him feral. It’s sheer over your chest, satin at the waist, and trimmed in ribbon. You’d worn it as a surprise. You didn’t expect him to unravel like this.

Jeongin stares at you from the mattress, already shirtless, eyes darkened and jaw clenched. He looks dazed. Hungry. Like he’s been trying not to lose control all night and now he’s at his limit.

“I’m not taking it off,” he says hoarsely, reaching for you. “It’s too perfect. Too hot. Just—ride me like that.”

Your breath catches.

You crawl into his lap slowly, knees bracketing his hips, arms wrapping around his shoulders. His hands grip your thighs, sliding up the sheer lace with reverence and a tremble. Then his mouth is on you—kissing down your neck, biting gently at first, tongue soothing the sting. But that’s not what he really wants.

“I need it,” he whispers. “Please. Let me bite.”

You nod.

He doesn’t hesitate. Sinks his fangs into the swell of your breast just above the lace, groaning low as your blood hits his tongue. You moan at the feeling of the heat rush that floods your body. Your hips grind down on instinct. He grips you tighter, hips twitching beneath yours.

“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling back with blood smeared at the corner of his lips. “You taste so good.”

You rock against him again. He’s hard already, pressing against your center through thin layers. Your pace quickens as you straddle him, grinding down in search of friction, your moans growing louder with every pass.

And then—he thrusts up once, twice, desperately, through his boxers, trying to meet you. It’s messy. Uncontrolled.

“Take me out,” he pants. “I—I need—please—”

You reach between you, freeing him from his briefs. His cock is flushed, heavy, leaking against your hand. He bucks into your touch, then holds your hips steady while you pull your panties aside and lower yourself onto him—inch by inch, lace still clinging to your skin.

His head drops back against the pillow with a moan so wrecked it doesn’t sound human. “You feel… fuck… you feel unreal.”

You start to move.

Slow at first—steady rolls of your hips, his hands roaming every inch of you he can reach. His fangs flash again as he watches you bounce, lace framing your curves, blood still drying on your chest.

“I can’t—can’t hold back,” he grits out. “Need to bite again—need to feel you everywhere.”

You nod, too lost in pleasure to form words.

This time, he bites your shoulder. Then your neck. Then your breast again through the fabric, enough to tear the lace slightly. Each time, his tongue follows, soothing the sting with a worshipful lick before he moans against your skin.

You’re shaking. Close. So close.

“Jeongin—”

“I know, baby," he growls—but this time, there’s a rasp in his throat. A dark edge. A thirst not just for you—but for what’s inside you. What feeds him.

Then—he snaps.

Jeongin bucks up into you with renewed force, rough and desperate, the rhythm turning messy and fast. One hand clutches your hip, guiding your motion, the other lands sharp against your ass—slap.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Take it. Ride it. Don’t you dare stop.”

You try to answer, but your voice breaks. He’s deep, hard, relentless. The blood loss, the overstimulation, the lace chafing just so—it’s too much, and still not enough.

Then he sinks his fangs into you again.

Lower this time—just above your heart. A claim. A feeding. His moan is filthy against your skin as he drinks, hips slamming up with each pull from your vein. His lips seal to the bite like it’s sacred, tongue swiping the spill before it stains.

You feel yourself tipping, unraveling—body jerking, walls fluttering around him. He groans, hands digging into your ass, holding you in place as his thrusts become erratic.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he pants, blood-slicked lips against your breast. “I could drink you dry. Fill you up. Fuck—don’t stop—don’t stop.”

You don’t. Your body moves on instinct—legs trembling, hands clutching at his chest, your moans dissolving into shattered gasps as you ride him harder, faster, deeper.

He fucks up into you like he’s chasing something primal—like he’s on the edge of breaking, of shifting into something unholy. His grip on your hips bruises. His jaw is clenched tight. He’s staring at you like you’re divinity draped in lingerie and blood.

“Fucking—cum,” he snaps, voice cracking. “Let me feel you.”

And then—you do.

It hits like a flood, your whole body locking around him, head thrown back as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, shaking, grinding down on him as your walls clench and flutter and milk him mercilessly.

Jeongin loses it.

He growls—a sound feral, needy—and slaps your ass again, rougher this time, then grabs your waist and slams up into you with sharp, punishing thrusts. No rhythm now. Just desperation. His cock drags along every swollen, overstimulated nerve inside you as he chases his own climax, jaw clenched, breath ragged.

“Fucking—tight—fuck, I’m gonna—”

Another slap. Another thrust. His fangs flash again like he’s tempted to bite one last time, but instead he buries his face in your chest, breathing you in like you’re oxygen. His fingers sink into your thighs, holding you down as he spills into you with a deep, guttural groan.

His entire body jerks.

Once. Twice.

Then stillness.

His grip softens—only a little. His face stays pressed against your skin, your blood still drying against his lips. His cock twitches inside you, aftershocks making your thighs tremble from where you’re still seated on him.

He finally breathes. Hoarse. Like he’d forgotten how.

“…mine,” he whispers. Like a prayer. Like a vow.

🏷️ taglist: @cybergracie , @jupitermarss , @basicginn , @dhvnigvil , @emkvlixsx , @collin-thegreat , @somuchpanicverylittledisco

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #vampire!skz series #wreck me wednesday

838 notes · View notes

imtaashu · 4 days ago

Text

Click📸

(Teaching Him to Use Polaroid Camera 📷 )

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You try to teach Bucky how to use your Polaroid camera. He ends up more interested in taking pictures of you than anything else. One kiss. One photo. That’s all he wants… or so he says.

Genre: Soft Fluff, Domestic Vibes, Clingy!Bucky, Hurt-Your-Teeth Cute

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: None, unless you count excessive pouting and unrelenting affection

💌Author Notes: This one’s pure mush. Like sticky marshmallow fluff on a warm day. Clingy, pouty Bucky, armed with a Polaroid and zero chill, is here to ruin your day in the sweetest way possible. Inspired by the idea of him just wanting something to hold onto when you’re not home. 😭

🩷 Please enjoy — and yes, he will ask for another photo in the middle of the night.

✦ feel free to request more fluffy Bucky things ✦

Based on ✦ this ✦ request.. thank you @buckyismysafehaven 🫶🏻

craving clingy bucky or emotional destruction? — masterlist is right here baby 🫶🏻

───── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────

“you know this isn’t a weapon, right?” you ask softly, raising a brow at bucky, who’s holding the pastel blue polaroid camera like it might explode.

“are you sure?” he replies, squinting suspiciously at it “feels like it’s got a mind of its own.”

you giggle, gently pushing his arms down “babe. it’s literally made of plastic.”

“so are landmines in cartoons.”

“okay, soldier,” you tease, taking it from his hands and showing him, slowly “this is the lens. this is the shutter. this button here—”

he cuts in, voice low and all heart-eyed “you’re really hot when you go all teacher mode, y’know that?”

“bucky.”

“sorry.” (not sorry at all.)

⸻

ten minutes later, he’s already used half the film.

not one photo of furniture like you suggested.

just you.

you tying your hair up.

you reaching for the remote.

you laughing with your head thrown back, nose scrunching just right.

“you were supposed to practice with objects, not your emotionally-unavailable girlfriend,” you say, flopping dramatically onto the couch.

he hums, carefully tucking the latest photo into his wallet “the couch doesn’t smell like vanilla and steal my hoodies.”

you peek over. “what are you doing with that one?”

“backup.”

“backup??”

“yeah. in case you go to the grocery store without me again and i spiral.”

⸻

click. you blink. “did you just take one without asking?”

he smiles, slow and sleepy, cradling the photo like it’s treasure.

“you looked real soft just now. had to keep it.”

“you can’t just collect pictures of me like—like trading cards.”

“why not?”

“because i probably look weird in half of them!”

he walks over, lifts your chin with gentle fingers “you’ve never looked weird. not to me.”

twenty minutes later, you’re wrapped in a hoodie that almost eats you alive, legs tangled in a blanket on the couch.

“don’t even think about it,” you mumble, not even opening your eyes.

“i didn’t say anything!”

“you don’t have to. i can feel it. you’re staring at me like i’m a sunrise.”

caught. he pauses, camera halfway to his face “okay, but hear me out: the angle? god-tier. the light? holy. your face? illegal.”

you groan into the pillow “you’re ridiculous.”

“you’re breathtaking.”

“that’s not gonna get you another picture.”

“…worked seventeen times already.”

eventually, he curls up beside you, cheek smushed against your shoulder, arms tucked around your waist.

he’s quiet for a while—just tracing little patterns on your skin then, he whispers, shy “can i take one of you kissing me?”

you blink. “like… a photo?”

he props himself up “yeah. just one.”

you hide under the blanket “nooo, that’s so embarrassing!”

“what? why!”

“i don’t look cute when i kiss. i squint weird.”

he gasps like it’s the most offensive thing he’s ever heard “your kissing face is my favorite face!”

“bucky—”

“i’m serious! that’s the face that says you love me.”

You stay quiet.

he softens, leaning down with a pout so genuine it borders on tragic.

“baby.”

no response.

“baby please.”

silence.

“you don’t love me.”

you peek out. “bucky.”

“you don’t. that’s why you won’t let me have a picture. my heart is broken. i might cry. this is the end of bucky barnes as we know him.”

you start laughing.

he immediately flops into your lap with a dramatic groan.

“just one photo of my girl loving me. is that so much to ask?”

“you’re a menace.”

“i’m your menace.”

finally, you give in. one kiss. one photo.

he sits up straighter than a soldier, camera ready, eyes wide and sparkling like he’s about to meet santa.

you lean in. kiss him softly.

click. his lashes flutter. His hands tremble slightly as he gently fans the developing photo, like it’s sacred.

and when the image comes in?

he just whispers, barely audible “…wow.”

later that night, while he’s asleep, you find the photo tucked into his wallet next to his dog tags.

you trace your thumb over it and smile.

he stirs, catches you looking.

“needed something to hold onto when you’re not home,” he murmurs.

“bucky, i was gone for ten minutes today.”

“and they were the longest ten minutes of my life.”

next morning, there’s a new polaroid stuck to the bathroom mirror.

you, fast asleep, curled into his chest on the back, in his boyish handwriting

“this is what peace looks like.”

and when you roll your eyes and tell him he’s obsessed?

he grins without missing a beat

“with you? yeah. obviously.”

-end

550 notes · View notes

l0vergirlwrites · 2 months ago

Text

relaxation ; spencer reid

synopsis: relaxing has never been a part of spencer’s daily routine, but he finds it to be much easier with you.

warnings: established relationship with fem!reader, season 4 spencer with glasses (HEAR ME OUT), like one sexual innuendo but mainly sweet fluff between spencer & reader!!!

note: thank you to the anon who requested this! i hope you enjoy 💌

spencer reid has always struggled with relaxation. the high adrenaline & stress of his job mixed with the constant overthinking in his mind causes him to always be thinking ten steps ahead, which can be good for cases, but bad for his mental health over time.

whenever he feels overworked, a sentence you once said always replays in his mind as a gentle reminder.

“the work & words on the page will still be there in ten minutes. you’re allowed to take a breath”.

spencer doesn’t always follow through, but he’s been making an effort too when he noticed his dark circles becoming more prominent, the constant tossing & turning in bed, & how you’ve developed the habit of smoothing the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb.

so, on this rare day off from the bau, spencer decided he was going to force himself to relax. first, he woke up a little bit before you, his head nuzzled in the space between your shoulder blades like he was meant to be right there.

he angled his chin up a few inches, pressing light kisses with his lips to the bare skin that peeked out of your tank top, releasing any tension in his shoulders before he slowly got out of bed.

with slippers on his feet & glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, spencer stretched & yawned as he made his way to the washroom to freshen up, brushing his teeth to rid him of morning breath & washing his face to further wake him up.

he even applied some moisturizer to his skin (a fancy kind you had gotten him hooked onto a few weeks ago).

by the time the clock struck ten in the morning, spencer was brewing a pot of tea & quietly rummaging through kitchen cupboards to plan breakfast for the two of you. he decided on pancakes & eggs, something simple but also fun since you both haven’t made them in a while.

since baking & cooking were basically forms of science due to the commonalities between recipes & formulas, spencer found himself to be in his element. he tied his hair back, scooped & levelled flour, cracked eggs with one hand, mixed all the ingredients with precision, & cooked each side of the pancakes to a perfect golden brown.

he concluded that three minutes & thirty seconds to four minutes & fifteen seconds was the ‘golden window’. he made a note in his mind to tell you that when you woke up.

it wasn’t long until breakfast was ready to be served, & the sound of the bedroom door opening only made spencer more excited. when you came into view, looking like a goddess in your pyjamas & bedhead, spencer couldn’t resist resting his hands on your waist & pulling you closer in the warm morning light.

“good morning, honey” he beamed, watching you lazily wrap your arms around his neck, blinking up at him with a kind of fondness that made him melt.

you pressed up on your sock-clad toes to kiss him. “good morning, early bird. thought you were at the office for a minute”.

spencer only kissed you again at that with a shake of his head. “today’s my day of relaxation with you”.

you hummed, wiggling your eyebrows teasingly to make him laugh. “how do you wanna relax then, hmm?”.

“well, first” he pushed his glasses up, noting in his mind to let that innuendo play out later. “i made us breakfast! we’ll need some fuel in order to properly relax, right?”.

pulling away so you could see the island counter, you audibly awed at the arrangement of two plates of pancakes & eggs, yours cooked just the way you like them, with two steaming mugs of tea. looking back at spencer, you couldn’t help but nuzzle yourself into his chest, pressing a kiss just above his heart.

“you didn’t have to do all of that, thank you” you said with sincerity, about to gush at the kind gesture more before spencer cut in.

“you deserve it,” he brushed a thumb along your cheek when you looked back at him with love. “plus, i like cooking for you. it’s quite relaxing”.

by ten twenty-five, you both were sitting on two of the island chairs, passing the salt & pepper & syrup, filling each other in on what happened the previous day between bites of food, your left hand resting on spencer’s thigh once you noticed it bouncing.

he only gave you a sheepish smile in return before continuing his tangent regarding the plane ride home the previous night, & how he obliterated derek in uno.

“… & he completely forgot to say uno when he had one card left, so i sent a gentle reminder by giving him two pick up four cards” he took a sip from his mug with a smirk, a laugh bubbling in his throat when you gasped, nails gently grazing his thigh.

“that’s so brutal! remind me to make sure i only ever play before you in uno next time because you always get the good cards” you nudged your foot into one of his as you finished the last remaining bit of your food.

“that purely happens by chance, but it’s not like—“.

“do you calculate the probability of you getting all the good cards & where they might be in the deck?”.

“… maybe—“.

you both broke out into more laughter then, both of your heads thrown back in tandem before one of his hands reached down to his thigh to hold yours, his palm smooth & warm against the back of your hand.

“i love you & your mind” you sighed, still grinning wide & happy.

the honestly in your voice made spencer flush, resulting in his hand squeezing yours a little tighter, hoping you could tell how grateful he was for you with the simple gesture.

“& i love you a whole lot more”.

the rest of the morning was filled with gentle touches. spencer’s arms were wrapped around your torso as you stood in front of the sink, refusing to let him wash up after cooking. later, his head rested on your chest as you both laid along the couch, the soft tone of your voice as you read aloud coaxed him into a state of content.

for the whole day, spencer didn’t think of paperwork or unsubs or anything—only you, & that was the most relaxing thing of all.

#l0vergirlwrites💌#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid short #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubbler x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you

532 notes · View notes

sqgeism · 2 months ago

Note

haii!! Can I ask the reaction of amphoreus men to the reader don’t feel like they deserve them and feeling guilty about it? 🙏

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 if i'm turning in your stomach | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; am i making you feel sick ? he's so.. happy with you, and you don't seem to understand. they're in the glory and light as a chrysos heir, what could have possibly be seen in you for them to ever want to share that light?

love mail — haiii anonnie ! thank you for requesting :D in this fic, i mention the very likely theory of phainon being kevin from hi3 ! it isn't a major plot point but it is mentioned so if ure confused dont worry so am i ヽ(´Ａ`)ﾉ love u guys mwah ! 2/5.

now.. anaxa isn't a fan of gossip, accepting words at face value is foolish. especially since he is a man from a field of alchemy, trying and testing until he sees results. in this case, the truth.

but when a mutual companion, that babbling blue haired student of his, tells him that you've been feeling rather.. sad recently, he was determined to find out why.

in your defense, you were never meant to have him figure out, but this concoction you were working on was really starting to get on your nerves. you figured anaxa was still at the academy, so you were free to yell at the vial of glowing liquid like you could peer pressure it into getting it to cooperate. "stupid, stupid." you grumbled, your fists curling into a ball on the table. "i hate this, why can't i just... be like anaxa? he must feel ashamed with me. i can't do something as simple as a healing potion, after all."

you know these words aren't true, but you can't completely erase the fact you still feel them. your boyfriend was praised for his expertise in his field, couldn't you at least have learned something?—

it was then that you felt someone press up against your back, head leaning over your shoulder as anaxa sighs. his hands wrap around your waist, looking at your face like you're the moon. "your ingredients are perfect, dove. down to the measurements, but i'm sure your error comes from your order of mixing. listen to me, start with.."

you listen to his guide, trying to perfectly replicate the sequence as he speaks, but it's distracting. he hasn't.. stopped looking away from you while you work. not to mention, his hands trace the curves of your waist, as if keeping your body to memory. his sultry voice in your ear is NOT helping either.

"i heard you, you know." he mumbles, shifting his head to press kisses to your shoulder blades, somewhat relishing the way you shiver.

"do you really think i'd ever focus my time on someone who self proclaims their inadequacy?" you don't answer. "your intelligence is unmatched, dove. i couldn't think of anyone with a brain like yours, while also having a heart kind enough to open a man like me."

his advances move up to your neck, and at this point, the potion is long forgotten. your hands are too shaky to focus anyway. "please.. never think you're not good enough for me. i couldn't handle you leaving me for false truths."

your husband is a literal king, warrior, and an unmovable force.. you wonder why he settled down with an ordinary mortal. you're not quite in the spotlight, and instead, a humble historian. which means you're well versed in mydei's tales, especially ones pertaining to his past. according to rumor; mydei is fated to fall for someone for all of eternity, they were originally a warrior sworn to him, but had died tragically for mydei in the middle of a battle, in fear that the enemy had possibly been able to reach his weakest spot. after a desperate plea from the gods, they had been kind enough to have his lovers soul reborn every time they've come face to face with death. you.. were apparently the first one he's met ever since 'your death'.

and while you're.. comforted by that idea, the fact that you're fated to find mydei in every life you'll live, you also feel.. unsure. had the chrysos heir fallen for you, or for someone you used to be. and you could never really live up to be who you were.

that person was a warrior, one mydei cherished like his other half, and the myths of the two of them are romantic. how he spent hundreds of years mourning them, how they haunted his narrative. could he ever truly love who you are now?

"sweetheart?"

mydei's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you come back to reality—surrounded by your ancient maps and history. you're in your study, staring down at one of the many books written on the chrysos heirs. "are you staring at that old thing again? i told you, i don't like the way they drew me in that book." his laugh makes you feel guilty, you aren't even sure why. something about his love feels undeserving.

when you don't reply, he realizes you're not quite on a page about him.. but about you. your past life.

mydei knows how you feel about it, you've talked about it under the moon with him in hopes that its light will keep your secret safe. but he knows reassurance won't fix your insecurity easily, he needs time, and he'll give you all of it. he's waited to find you for all these years, what kind of man would he be to make you think you're anything less than precious?

carefully turning your body to him, his hand trailing up your cheek as he feels his heart ache. "sweetheart, my darling.." before he can even finish, you lean your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat in silence. "mydei, do you promise.. that this heart is mine? you.. you aren't after someone who i once was, and rather who i am now?"

he knows he'll have time to give you proper reassurance, but he knows you just need a few words now. "i promise, with all i am, that i have fallen in love with you all over again. and that i am yours, body and soul."

with all the mystery that surrounds your boyfriends identity, you can't help but think about it as well. do you.. really know him? does he not trust you to know him? you aren't sure. maybe you aren't as special as you thought you had been, that phainon's sweet words of how much he loves you are.. false prayers.

but you have no reason to doubt him, he's never stayed out too late or hung around people that made you question his motives, he's a good man. and you're starting to think that you don't deserve him for doubting that.

the idea clouds your mind the whole day, and for aeon's sake.. you and him are having a date night at his place. he notices it quickly, how your mind just can't seem to focus. how you move away from his touches and hesitate with every kiss, was there something troubling you? was he troubling you? that's when he's had enough of the lack of communication, he turns off the tv, pulls the blankets down, and gives you a confused but also rather upset look. "honey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?

he holds his hand out to you, but you move away, the cold shoulder has never been so sweet. "phai.." you hesitate to finish your sentence, but phainon waits.

he's been known for his patience, he always has been. he was a composed man, a gentleman, he could surely hold himself togethe—

"am.. am i really anything special to you?"

he feels his heart sink to his stomach.

there's an sting that he's never quite felt before, overwhelming his body greatly. he's sure he can hear his heartbeat, or perhaps lack thereof, it's as if his world has stopped at those words.

you've begun to tear up now. "i don't know i just.. the people have been telling me things— and i'm realizing now that i don't.. i don't really know anything about you and.. i.. i'd want to get to know you better, but i understand if you don't want to, and don't trust me but—"

seeing you cry makes him remember something distant, a life he once lived in a different world. making someone he also loved so dearly cry because of what he's done.

phainon crumbles, moving closer to you to wipe your tears. you two are face to face now, his lips only a breath away as he's reminded why he loves you so much.

you're you, so human, so selfless. how could he be blind to your struggle, when he claims to watch you so carefully? "oh, angel. i'm so.. so sorry. there are things i cannot tell you yet, but i can tell you that i could never let my heart be taken by anyone else."

feather light kisses press against your eyelids, and you shudder at the contact. "sweet, sweet angel. please don't cry. i promise i'll make it up to you one day."

#ㅤ ��᭥ᩙ༉ㅤnew flower bloomed ! :ೃ࿔𔓘 #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #anaxagoras x reader #anaxa x reader #mydeimos x reader #mydei x reader #mydeimos #phainon hsr x reader #phainon x reader #phainon

477 notes · View notes

mocchiixxx · 2 months ago

Text

🍒 Words in Ruin Series #| 1: Choi Seungcheol | Scoups

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Realistic Idol Life, Fluff (at the end)

Warnings: Raised voice, emotional hurt, crying, regret, comfort

Summary: As the leader of SEVENTEEN, Seungcheol has always carried the weight of everyone’s well-being on his shoulders. But sometimes, even the strongest fall under pressure. After a long day filled with meetings, rehearsals, and no time to breathe, he snaps, unintentionally lashing out at the one person who never asks anything of him but love and support. You. The guilt eats away at him the moment your hurt expression registers in his heart. Can he fix what he broke in just a few seconds?

💌🍒💌

The clock blinked 1:47 AM.

You sat quietly on the couch in Seungcheol’s apartment, waiting, as you usually did. His schedules had been packed to the brim this week; back-to-back dance practices, variety filming, an overseas call with the label, and now, recording. You understood. You always understood.

The door slammed open with a gust of cold air and a worn-out S.Coups stepping inside, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of exhaustion. You quickly stood up, walking over to greet him with a gentle smile.

“Hey, I made some late dinner. Just in case you were hungry—”

“I’m not hungry!” he snapped suddenly, out of nowhere, voice harsher than thunder.

You froze, spoon halfway in your hand.

“I told you not to wait for me! Why do you keep doing this?” he continued, dropping his bag on the floor with a frustrated groan.

“I can't deal with this right now, okay?”

You stood there, silent. Your lips quivered a little, not because you were angry, but because that voice was so unlike the Seungcheol you knew. The one who kissed your forehead before leaving. The one who always said thank you when you made him coffee. The one who always told you he was okay, even when he wasn’t.

“…I just wanted to make sure you eat,” you murmured.

That was when he saw it. The way your eyes shimmered with tears you were trying to hold back. The way your shoulders curled inward, as if protecting yourself from the very person you loved.

“I’m sorry…” you added, stepping back slightly.

And that was the moment it hit him.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, Y/N— wait.”

You turned around, but he reached for your wrist gently, pulling you back to face him.

“I didn’t mean that. God, I didn’t mean any of that,” his voice trembled. “I just— today’s been hell and I didn’t sleep and I think I messed up the choreo and Hybe’s been calling nonstop and—”

He stopped, realizing his excuses didn’t matter right now. Not when you looked so broken over something he did.

“I yelled at you. You, of all people. You always wait for me, even when I don’t deserve it. You never complain. You love me so well and all I do is throw my stress at you. I’m so sorry.”

You finally looked up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks now. His heart shattered.

“I don’t want to be another burden,” you whispered.

“You’re not, baby, you'll never be a burden to me.” he said immediately, pulling you into a hug so tight it almost hurt. “You’re my peace. And I just ruined it. Please, please forgive me.”

You didn't respond right away, only clutching the back of his shirt as you let yourself cry into his chest.

And he stood there, arms around you, rocking you slightly. Whispering apologies. Whispering how much he loved you.

“I’ll do better,” he said after a while. “I promise I’ll never let stress make me forget how much you mean to me again.”

You finally looked up, wiping your tears. “Then come eat something. You can’t fix anything on an empty stomach.”

He smiled softly. “Only if you sit with me.”

You nodded, and as he intertwined his fingers with yours, you knew— this wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And he meant every word.

Taglist: @foxiesgf24 @viacb97

A/N: Yo! I'm back with a new series, it's been awhile hasn't it? I'd been busy practicing for our final performance and still am but I manage to write some one-shot so expect an update this following days. Oh, and I'm open for request, if you have any. I'm open to ideas from you guys. Have a great day!🫶

439 notes · View notes

yintous · 2 months ago

Text

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ─── 𝓗EY LOVER! ㆍ₊⊹

gn! reader ; batboys and the little things they do for you. however, are they really considered little things when they harbor such significant contributions to your relationship? [headcanons!]

notes. fluff, not proofread, &&. established relationship. more content under the cut. happy reading :D! [masterlist]

DICK GRAYSON

on everyone’s soul, dick grayson is the epitome of yearning!!! (we’re all LIVING)

this is so random but i feel like he’d be the type to know when your alarm blares so he’d be the one to snooze it at the right time to avoid the alarm from blaring into your eardrums in the morning; he’d be the one to wake you up instead

whenever he’s free, he sends you pictures of things that remind him of you with little to no context. for example, he could send a picture of your favorite drink before sending a text that just said “you”

makes a list of upcoming things he knows you’d enjoy (such as new movies coming up that coincidentally have your fav genre, a new album from your favorite artist, etc). he marks them on his calendar and never fails to set up a date with you involving those things

has a habit of stroking your hair or back whenever he holds you because he knows it’s easier for you to relax that way

JASON TODD

def never forgets to send you “goodnight” and “good morning” messages

i like to think that he’s actually really gentle when it comes to his significant other as well as really communicative. after arguments, when words aren’t enough, he gives you little acts of service as a way to apologize

for example, he makes sure your food is heated up just right before you decide to eat dinner— if not, he was probably too busy setting up a warm bath for you, along with your favorite bubble bath products already restocked

i also feel like he’d be subtly clingy?? like clingy to the point he’d recognize your little habits and because of his clinginess, he recognized more of what little acts of services he could do for you

for example, if you’re the type to constantly forget your keys, your umbrella, etc., he’ll place them on a surface you don’t often miss, like a little reminder

TIM DRAKE

one time you broke your earphones and you suddenly saw new ones sitting on your desk, with a letter that had nothing but a small heart messily drawn on it

tends to make two cups instead of just one whenever he makes coffee or whenever he buys energy drinks, he buys two of yours and two of his (both of you down them together)

whenever you mention any problems— especially with technology, he makes sure to help you as soon as he could. you spilled water on your laptop? it’s suddenly fixed the next day. your necklace is tangled? turns out he had a bit of free-time a few hours ago and you’re free to wear it untangled once again.

if you are the type of person to yap about similar interests like certain tv shows, books, etc. he’d hold off from consuming its media so you’d have the opportunity to ramble to him about them in your own little way

DUKE THOMAS

the type to know your preference on EVERYTHING, like if you prefer earphones over speakers and vice versa, if you prefer black coffee over brown, etc.

def greets you at 12 am whenever it’s your birthday. he made it into a little tradition and would fall deeper in love with you if you returned the gesture

lists down all the songs you’ve recommended to him and puts all of them into a spotify playlist; he listens to the playlist whenever he doesn’t have you around or on his free-time in general

helps you untangle your hair in the morning and you swear he has a talent for it. his touch is as gentle as a feather

if you have glasses, he carries a microfiber fabric around just in case you’d need it to wipe your lenses

786 notes · View notes

decentgarbage · 1 year ago

Text

YEAH WE REACHED THE GOAL!!!

Thanks to all the moots who got me to 1k notes :3!!

I’m blaming @yourlocalshootingstar for getting me into this show and me falling for this character>:^ (even though it was all me)

Anyways my romantic f/o…

Is…

RANPO FROM BSD

Yup everyone!! The amazing detective (and Ghost’s older brother) has won my heart!!! Im a-okay if y’all self ship him in the platonic/familial sense but I’m still quite iffy if someone romantically self ship w/ him.

Hehe!! Anyways- yea-

It happened again- I have another secret f/o

Um no other hints other than it’s a romantic one

UPDATE:

GET THIS POST TO 1K AND ILL TELL YALL WHO IT IS

#💌: The Case of my Heart!!#<—- my f/o tag for him hehe!!#romantic f/o #secret f/o revealed!!#hehe!

1K notes · View notes

queenie-the-court-jester · 1 year ago

Text

Love isn't dead

Yandere cupid x reader

Tw: yandere, minor mention of body horror, obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation

💌you couldn't remember when he first appeared or when you could feel another presence near you. All you knew was that you had a cupid trying to set you up.

💘always nonchalant when you'd open a closet door and he'd be hiding inside. Pausing to stare before continuing to put the towels away. He swore you could see right through him and at him at the same time. But that shouldn't be possible. Because humans can't see cupids. They're not supposed to

💌but that obviously wasn't the case with you. Sweetheart quickly became more bold. Watching you quietly and forgetting his task of finding your soulmate. It got to a point where you blatantly confronted him after you finished bathing, noticing a pair of pink heart eyes staring at you from the top of the shower curtain half way

"are you going to keep staring at me like a creep or are you going to actually introduce yourself?"

"gah-!! Ah.. uh right! Ofcourse! I-im sweetheart! Pleasure to meet you!"

💘after Introducing yourself, you set some ground rules. 1. Don't watch you while you shower, use the bathroom, or sleep 2. Don't Invade your space 3. He can't stalk you while you're out and about

💌at first he followed these rules, nodding obediently and following them diligently. But then he noticed something.. when did you become so beautiful? He swore you were more beautiful than his mother.. so kind and patient, he almost didn't want to finish his job, just stay here with you forever. Offering him food, caring for him, giving him hugs and cheek kisses. He wanted more.

💘he broke your rules, but he never let you find out. He'd never want to upset you! Having gotten better in hiding, he silently watches from the shadows. taking things he's sure you won't notice. All he talks and asks about now is what you like, what you're thinking of or if you got your eye on anyone. Claiming it's because he's curious about humans

💌 growing possessive, he uses one of his hate arrows whenever a suitor tries to approach you. How dare they try and take what was his! Can't they see you're too perfect for them!? He saw everything else as inferior to you, nobody was worthy to see your smile. A god/dess among rubbish.

💘he started using his arrows to distance your loved ones, until he was all that you had left. Comforting you, holding you close, wiping away your tears. He felt a foreign burning feeling in-between his legs whenever he saw you cry. Wanting nothing more than to lick them up but he knew you would consider it weird

💌he didn't dare use a love arrow on you, he wanted to see you. The real you at all times. Ignoring the angry calls his mother and siblings would send him, urging him to finish his job and come back home. So he did something he never would have thought of doing. Something irreversible. He cut off his wings, turning him mortal

💘he smiled up at you with a lovesick grin, while you could only stare at him in horror. You had just gotten back from a miserable day at work and stumbled into the bathroom to find it bloody and covered in familiar pink feathers. Slowly walking backwards, glancing at the small bones of where his wings use to be, sticking out. Bloody and mangled.

"this is all for you.. don't you see? I'M your soulmate! We were made for eachother my darling! So let's be together forever.."

1K notes · View notes

lovelivision · 8 months ago

Note

Hey if you're writing drabbles, could you please write a friends to lovers/ pre-relationship one with gojo, and maybe the pillow humping prompt. Ngl I kind of fw it

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 only a short one today,, sorry !! i wanted to get one out before i go back to staring at my long fic in the word doc i love loser gojo so much, love when a man is horrifically down bad <33 thanks for your request and i hope you enjoyed it !!

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Gojo feels pathetic when he thinks about his crush on you, his dear friend who is the subject of all his fantasies. Every time he sees you he feels like his heart stutters in his chest and he can’t help but think about a future with you, the dates he could take you on, the things he would buy you.

And even though he has a desire to treat you right, he also can’t help the desires he has late at night. The ones where he thinks about how cute you looked earlier in the day, how your legs looked when you crossed them, the sound of your laugh and the glow of your smile. His brain fuzzy when he thinks about touching you, hands touching your soft skin.

So badly he wants to dig his fingers into your pliable flesh, he wants to grab you and leave marks all over, just as proof to himself and others that he’s had you. He wants to drag his lips all over, taste you. His imagination running wild at how he could make you feel so good if you let him drop to his knees for you, he just knows you’d squirm for him as he licks at your messy cunt.

It's so embarrassing how he humps into his pillow thinking of you, his dick leaking pitifully as he thinks about his pretty friend. Cock twitching and chest tight as he remembers how glossy your lips were when he saw you today, wanting to know how that shade would look on his dick.

Precum drips in thick globs onto his pillow, wet and sticky from his erratic and uncalculated thrusts. The soft case rubbing against his sensitive cock deliciously but it’s not quite enough, it’s never enough when he’s thinking about you, not in comparison to how he thinks it would feel. The idea of your plush cunt swallowing him whole enough to have him cumming so quickly.

His moans whimpered and pitchy as he cums all over his pillow, his gut clenching thinking about whether you’d let him cum inside you or not. He always feels guilty after, embarrassment hitting him fully at the reality of how he’s just fucked his pillow to the thought of you.

Next time, he thinks, next time he’s definitely telling you how he feels.

#₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 vinbox #visdrabbles #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk x reader smut

456 notes · View notes

rosarykisses · 20 days ago

Text

How to send a letter to your

desired reality s / o

yourself and / or your friends!

───

OKAY SO!!! I’m not an experienced shifter or anything like that— I’m still pretty new to all of this. So take this method with a grain of salt! But!!! This is something that genuinely helped me feel closer to my DR, and I wanted to share in case it helps you too.

You can write your letter however you’d like—on actual paper (which is what I did!), in a notes app, or even a Word doc. The medium doesn’t matter—your intention does.

───

STEP ONE : WRITE FROM THE HEART WITH FULL INTENT . . .

Say whatever you feel. I wrote how I was sorry I hadn’t made it there yet and how hard I was trying. You can talk about anything—how much you care for them, what you’re excited about, or what you wish they knew.

STEP TWO : TREAT THEM

LIKE THEY ARE REAL

BECAUSE THEY ARE!

Write as if you’re speaking directly to them. Be sweet, kind, respectful, loving—whatever fits the relationship. Whether they’re a slow-burn love interest, a close friend, a family member, or even your DR self, keep your connection in mind as you write.

STEP THREE :

INTENT IS EVERYTHING

Intent is the most important part of this process. If you don’t mean what you’re saying and believe it will reach them, it probably won’t. Your energy needs to be aligned with the idea that they’ll receive it. Affirm that this message is going exactly where it’s meant to.

STEP FOUR :

SCRIPT THAT THEY FIND IT !!!

Seriously — if you don’t script that they find the note or letter in your DR, they likely won’t. Be specific about how or where they find it if you want.

STEP FIVE :

ASK FOR A SIGN ( OPTIONAL )

At the end of your letter, you can write something like:

“If you receive this letter, could you give me a sign? Nothing huge, just something small like [ insert something specific but unusual you’d notice ].” Make it random enough that you’ll know it’s from them when it happens.

STEP SIX :

SEAL WITH AFFIRMATIONS

Once you’ve written your letter, say your affirmations out loud or in your mind — something like:

“This message will reach them. They will find it. They know I’m coming.”

───

WHAT TO DO WITH THE LETTER

If you typed your letter:

Say your affirmations, then delete it and try to forget about it. Obsessing over it or rereading it over and over may block results.

If you handwrote your letter:

You can burn it, rip it and release it into the wind, send it in a bottle, bury it, or even ( this sounds silly but it worked for me ) flush it down the toilet. Whatever helps you let it go with belief that it’s on its way.

───

JUST REMEMBER . . .

your belief, focus, and intent matter more than anything else. You’re not “just pretending” — you’re creating a connection that already exists in some version of reality.

Good luck, and trust the process 💌 Let me know if it works for you!

#desired realities #dr shifting #shifting realities #reality shifting

159 notes · View notes

unabashegirl · 1 month ago

Text

Love Island — part 4

AU. Based on the TV show.

Author's note: Please, please don’t hesitate to send in your requests — whether it’s blurbs, one-shots, or even just a fun idea you want to see come to life. If you're feeling a little shy, no worries at all — you can always send them in anonymously through Tumblr! I’d love to hear from you and create more content you’ll enjoy 🌞💌

⭐️ Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon

⭐️ Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms

The sun glinted off the pool as Y/N sat on one of the loungers, her legs dipped lazily in the water. Lucas plopped down beside her, his usual laid-back grin in place as he swirled his feet in the pool.

“Alright, missus,” he began, leaning back on his hands. “Two days since the big shake-up. Spill. How’s it going with Harry? You two the villa’s next power couple or what?”

Y/N let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she glanced at the water. “Hardly,” she admitted, a touch of frustration in her tone. “Honestly, Lucas, I don’t know what’s going on. He hasn’t… made a move. Nothing.”

Lucas frowned, leaning forward slightly. “Nothing at all? Not even a cheeky cuddle at night? The man’s sleeping next to you, for crying out loud.”

“Exactly!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “We talk, we laugh, but that’s it. He’s sweet, and I do feel something when we’re together, but I can’t tell if he’s just being cautious or if he’s… not as into it as I thought.”

Lucas gave her a thoughtful look, running a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t sound like Harry. Bloke’s confident. If he likes you, he’d usually be all in.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said again, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It’s making me second-guess everything. I thought we had this connection, you know? But now, I’m starting to think maybe I got it wrong.”

Lucas gave her a nudge with his shoulder. “Hey, don’t go down that rabbit hole. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Bloke’s interested. Maybe he’s just trying to take it slow—prove he’s not here for some quick fling.”

She sighed, her eyes fixed on the pool. “I guess. But I didn’t sign up for Love Island to sit around wondering what someone’s thinking. If he’s into me, I wish he’d just… show it.”

Lucas grinned, his tone teasing. “Why don’t you make the first move, then? Shock his system a bit.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “You think I should?”

“Why not?” Lucas replied with a shrug. “Worst-case scenario, he’s not into it, and you move on. Best-case scenario, you get the spark you’re waiting for.”

She considered it, biting her lip. “Maybe. But it’s just… disappointing, you know? I didn’t expect to feel this unsure with someone I like.”

Lucas gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Trust me, Y/N. If Harry’s playing it cool, it’s probably because he’s worried about messing things up. You’ve got him thinking. Just give it time—or better yet, don’t. Light a fire under him and see what happens.”

Y/N laughed, the tension easing slightly. “You’re full of advice today, aren’t you?”

“Hey, what can I say? I’m the villa’s agony uncle,” Lucas said with a wink. “But seriously, you’ve got this. Just do what feels right.”

As Y/N smiled, feeling a bit lighter, the narrator’s voice cut in, “Looks like Y/N’s got a choice to make—play it safe or take the plunge. And with Lucas as her wingman, what could possibly go wrong? Stay tuned, because things are about to get interesting!”

Harry was mid-set of bicep curls. Beads of sweat glistened on his brow as he focused on his reps. Beside him, Ethan, the newest addition to the villa, was hammering out some push-ups, grunting with every move.

Lucas sauntered up, a water bottle in hand and a half-hearted determination on his face. He plopped onto a bench, picked up the lightest dumbbell available, and started lifting with exaggerated effort.

“Ah, here we go. Gym lad Lucas in the house,” Ethan quipped, smirking as he moved into a plank.

Harry chuckled. “Didn’t peg you for a weights guy, mate.”

“Oh, I’m all about it,” Lucas said, flexing his arm dramatically before dropping the dumbbell after one rep. “Alright, that’s enough for me. Can’t overdo it, you know?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head.

Lucas leaned back, his casual demeanor dropping slightly as he watched Harry move to the pull-up bar. “Right, Haz. Gotta chat with you about something.”

Harry glanced at him between reps, a curious eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? What’s up?”

Lucas glanced at Ethan, who was still engrossed in his workout, then leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s about Y/N.”

That caught Harry’s attention. He paused mid-rep, his hands gripping the bar tightly. “What about her?”

“Well,” Lucas began, keeping his tone light, “she’s feeling a bit... unsure about things. Reckons you’ve been keeping her in limbo.”

Harry let go of the bar, landing lightly on his feet. “In limbo? What do you mean?”

Lucas shrugged, swirling the water in his bottle. “She likes you, mate. But she’s thinking maybe you’re not as into it as she thought. Says you haven’t really made a move.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands resting on his hips. “That’s not it. I just didn’t want to come on too strong, you know? Didn’t want her to think I was just playing the game.”

“Right,” Lucas said, nodding. “But she’s not a mind reader. All she sees is you holding back. If you’re interested, Haz, you’ve got to show her. Otherwise, she’ll start thinking she got it wrong.”

Ethan sat up from his plank, catching the last bit of the conversation. “Sounds like you’re in trouble, mate,” he teased, smirking.

Harry ignored him, his attention fixed on Lucas. “So, she really said that?”

Lucas gave him a pointed look. “She said she feels disappointed. That’s not a good sign, mate. You don’t want her head turning because she thinks you’re not interested.”

Harry’s expression shifted, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “I didn’t realize she felt that way. I thought… I thought we were good.”

“Then let her know,” Lucas said simply. “You’re into her, right?”

Harry’s lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah, I am. She’s… different. In a good way.”

“Then stop messing about,” Lucas said, standing up and patting him on the shoulder. “Before someone else swoops in.”

The narrator’s voice chimed in as Lucas walked off, “Wise words from Lucas there. Harry’s been playing it cool, but if he waits too long, he might find himself cooling off in the single beds. Will this wake-up call get him moving? Or will Y/N’s head turn before he has the chance? Stay tuned!”

Lucas was sprawled on a sun lounger with his sunglasses on, taking a well-earned break from his brief stint in the gym. He was sipping a bottle of water when Georgia sauntered up, her strides purposeful and her eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“Alright, Lucas,” she began, plopping herself down on the lounger next to him. “Got a minute?”

Lucas tilted his sunglasses down, one eyebrow raised. “For you, Georgia? Always. What’s on your mind?”

Georgia leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Saw you having a little chinwag with Harry earlier. What were you two chatting about, then?”

Lucas smirked, leaning back with deliberate nonchalance. “Oh, just lad stuff. You know, protein shakes, reps, how to get biceps like mine.”

Georgia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. I’m not buying it. I saw the way you were talking—looked serious. Come on, Lucas, spill.”

He sighed, dragging out the moment just to wind her up. “Fine. If you must know, we were talking about Y/N.”

That caught her attention. Georgia straightened, her expression sharpening. “Oh? And what about her?”

Lucas took another sip of water, playing coy. “Just... how things are going between them. That’s all.”

Georgia’s lips pursed, her annoyance barely concealed. “And what did you tell him?”

Lucas chuckled, pushing his sunglasses back up. “What’s with the third degree, Georgia? You got a sudden interest in Harry’s love life?”

She crossed her arms, glaring. “I just think it’s funny, that’s all. Y/N swoops in and suddenly everyone’s falling over themselves to make sure she’s alright. Meanwhile, the rest of us are just sitting here like extras in her little love story.”

“Extras?” Lucas repeated, laughing. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Georgia leaned closer, her voice dropping. “I’m serious, Lucas. It’s not fair. She’s already got Harry wrapped around her finger, and now you’re playing her cheerleader? What about the rest of us, huh?”

Lucas sighed, sitting up and turning to face her. “Georgia, you’re making this way bigger than it is. Harry’s into Y/N—simple as that. If you fancy him, then crack on and let him know. But don’t make it about her. That’s not fair.”

Georgia’s eyes flashed. “I’m not making it about her. I just think everyone’s acting like she’s this innocent little thing when she’s clearly playing the game. And you’re helping her.”

Lucas shook his head, his tone firm but calm. “Georgia, no one’s playing the game more than you right now, and we both know it. If you’ve got a problem, take it up with Harry, not me. And maybe, just maybe, ask yourself if this is about the connection you want or the attention you’re not getting.”

Georgia sat back, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, she seemed lost for words—a rare sight in the villa.

The narrator’s voice chimed in with impeccable timing, “And there you have it, folks—Lucas, the voice of reason, leaving Georgia with more questions than answers. Will she take his advice, or will she turn this into another episode of Georgia vs. the World? Grab your popcorn—it’s only getting juicier!”

The beauty room buzzed with chatter as the girls got ready for the night, brushes, curling irons, and bottles of setting spray scattered across every available surface. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor by the mirror, towel-drying her damp hair after a refreshing dip in the pool. Chloe was next to her, applying highlighter with precision, while Amber and Lila debated lipstick shades near the vanity.

A light knock on the door brought everyone’s attention to the doorway. Harry stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his cheeks slightly pink. He gave an awkward little wave, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Y/N.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he said, his voice warm but tentative. “Y/N, can I borrow you for a sec?”

The room fell silent, every girl suddenly finding a reason to stop what they were doing and focus on this unexpected development. Y/N blinked in surprise, clutching her towel for a moment before standing up.

“Sure,” she said, glancing at the girls, who were all pretending not to listen. “Be right back.”

Harry stepped aside as she walked through the door, his hand briefly brushing her arm. They walked down the hallway, the hum of conversation in the beauty room resuming the second the door closed behind them. Y/N felt her heart pick up pace, the air between them charged with a nervous kind of energy.

They stopped near the staircase, just out of sight but still within earshot of the curious girls inside. Harry leaned against the wall, his hands back in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he gathered his words.

“So,” he started, his signature smile creeping onto his face, “I, uh… wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…” Y/N prompted, her voice soft but teasing, trying to make him a bit more comfortable.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, his confidence momentarily slipping. “I’ve been thinking. We haven’t really had proper time together, just the two of us, you know?”

Y/N’s brows rose, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I guess we haven’t.”

“Right.” Harry exhaled, his eyes meeting hers. “So, I thought, maybe tonight… would you have dinner with me? Downstairs. Just us. I’ve got something planned.”

Her stomach flipped at his words. “You planned something?”

Harry’s lips quirked in a shy grin. “I tried. So… what do you think?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”

The grin on Harry’s face spread wide, his dimples deepening. “Brilliant. Right, I’ll see you down there later, then.”

“See you later,” Y/N echoed, her voice light and filled with unspoken excitement. Harry turned and walked away, glancing back at her with a cheeky smile before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was gone, Y/N stood frozen for a second, the moment sinking in. Then she squeaked, barely containing her excitement as she practically skipped back to the beauty room.

Inside, all eyes were on her. Chloe was the first to speak, her brows shooting up. “What was that about, then?”

Y/N sat down, her smile impossible to hide. “He’s planned something… dinner for just us tonight.”

Amber let out a low whistle, while Lila smirked. “Look at you, getting the royal treatment.”

“Alright, spill!” Chloe demanded. “What did he say? What’s the plan?”

Y/N shook her head, laughing. “I don’t know! He didn’t give much away. Just said he’d see me later.”

The girls erupted in chatter, each offering their thoughts, theories, and teasing remarks about what Harry might have in store.

The narrator chimed in, “Harry Styles—villa romantic, dinner planner, and now the cause of one very giddy beauty room. Let’s hope his cooking skills are better than his pickup lines, or this romantic gesture might end in more flames than sparks!”

The beauty room was alive with excitement as the girls gathered around Y/N, all pitching in to help her prepare for her date with Harry. Chloe was meticulously curling her hair, Amber was swatching lipsticks on the back of her hand to find the perfect shade, and Lila was busy laying out jewelry options. Even the background chatter had a sense of celebration, the girls buzzing with curiosity about Harry’s surprise dinner plan.

“Alright, babe, you’re going to absolutely knock him out with this dress,” Amber said, holding up a sleek black number. “It’s a power move.”

“Oh, definitely,” Lila added. “Harry won’t know what hit him.”

But in the corner of the room, Georgia sat with her arms crossed, her expression darkening with every passing minute. Finally, she let out a scoff loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“This is a bit much, isn’t it?” she said, her tone sharp. “I mean, it’s just dinner. You’d think he was proposing or something.”

The room fell silent for a beat, the atmosphere turning awkward. Y/N glanced at Chloe, who rolled her eyes before continuing to style her hair.

“Honestly, Georgia,” Amber said, her tone clipped, “can you just let her enjoy this? You’ve been on one all day.”

“I’m just saying,” Georgia continued, undeterred. “It’s not fair that everything is always about Y/N. What about the rest of us? Some of us haven’t had a proper chance with Harry because she’s hogging all his attention.”

Y/N straightened, her lips pressing into a firm line. She turned to Georgia, her voice calm but pointed. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Georgia. Maybe that’s the real issue here.”

The room collectively inhaled, the tension palpable. Georgia’s face flushed, her eyes narrowing as she stood abruptly. “You know what? Forget it. Have your perfect little date. I’m done.”

She stormed out of the beauty room, slamming the door behind her. The girls exchanged glances, a mix of frustration and relief.

“Well, that went well,” Chloe muttered, finishing the last curl in Y/N’s hair.

“She’s so exhausting,” Amber said, shaking her head. “She’s not a girls’ girl, not even a little bit.”

The narrator’s voice cut in, “Georgia, leaving the beauty room like it’s a scene from a soap opera. Who knew glitter eyeshadow could cause so much drama?!”

Outside, Georgia wiped at her eyes as she wandered through the villa. She spotted Tom near the fire pit, tossing small pebbles into the grass. He looked up as she approached, his expression softening when he saw her teary face.

“Oi, Georgia,” he said, standing. “You alright?”

She sniffed, brushing a hand under her nose. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had enough of this place, that’s all.”

Tom frowned, stepping closer. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though her voice cracked. “It’s just… everyone’s so fake. And Y/N—ugh, I can’t stand how everyone fawns over her.”

Tom’s jaw tightened at the mention of Y/N, his own frustrations clearly bubbling under the surface. “Yeah, well… she’s not as perfect as everyone thinks.”

Georgia glanced at him, a flicker of understanding passing between them. “You see it too, don’t you? She’s not what she seems.”

Tom nodded, his gaze hardening. “You could say that.”

The two stood there in silence for a moment, the crackling fire pit casting flickering shadows around them. Whatever unspoken alliance had just formed, it was clear: both were nursing their own wounds, and Y/N was the common denominator.

Y/N took a deep breath as she stepped out of the beauty room, the cool evening air brushing against her skin. She smoothed down the sleek black dress Amber had insisted on, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor as she walked through the villa. Her nerves buzzed in her chest, but she couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto her face.

Lucas was waiting by the entrance to the pool, grinning like a proud older brother. He gave her a little thumbs-up as she approached.

“Alright, superstar,” he said, gesturing toward the softly lit path. “Follow me. Your prince awaits.”

Y/N laughed lightly, shaking her head. “Thanks, Lucas.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Harry. He’s been pacing for the last hour,” Lucas teased as he led her down the path, away from the villa’s usual bustle. The pool glimmered under the lights, and in the farthest corner, a small table was set up, complete with candles and a bottle of wine.

Harry stood by the table, hands clasped in front of him. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone, paired with tailored black trousers. His curls were perfectly tousled, and he looked like he’d just stepped out of a glossy magazine spread. The sight of him stole Y/N’s breath for a moment.

As soon as he spotted her, Harry’s face lit up with a boyish grin, though his hand immediately went to rub the back of his neck—a telltale sign of his nerves. Lucas gave Y/N an encouraging pat on the shoulder before disappearing back into the villa.

“Wow,” Harry said as Y/N approached, his voice soft but filled with awe. “You look… stunning.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “This setup is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, his voice dropping as he fiddled with the cuff of his shirt. “I, uh, hope it’s alright. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, her smile widening.

They both sat down at the table, the soft glow of the candles illuminating their faces. Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the spread before her—grilled salmon, a colorful salad, and a decadent chocolate dessert waiting on the side.

“You did all this?” she asked, her tone incredulous but impressed.

“Well,” Harry admitted, his dimples deepening with a sheepish smile, “I had a bit of help from the boys. But I did pick everything out.”

Y/N laughed, her nerves melting slightly. “I’m impressed.”

As they started eating, Harry stole a glance at her, the flickering candlelight catching the sparkle in her eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” he said softly, his usual cheeky demeanor replaced with something more genuine.

Y/N set down her fork, her gaze meeting his. “So have I. I was starting to think you’d never make a move.”

Harry chuckled, his hand running through his curls. “Yeah, well… I’m not exactly smooth when it comes to this sort of thing. Honestly, I’ve been a nervous wreck.”

“Nervous?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You? The guy who walked into the villa like he owned the place?”

“That was all an act,” Harry confessed, his grin widening. “You, though… you’ve had me completely thrown from day one.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, her smile softening. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the villa’s noise a distant hum in the background. It felt like their own little world, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel grateful for the effort Harry had put into making the evening special.

“So,” Harry said, his voice breaking the quiet as he leaned forward slightly, his green eyes locked on hers. “Am I living up to your expectations?”

Y/N smirked, tilting her head. “Let’s just say… you’ve set the bar very high.”

Harry laughed, his shoulders relaxing as the tension between them shifted into something lighter, more natural. “Good. I’ll take that.”

After a few more moments of laughter, the air between them shifted from lighthearted banter to something more intimate. Harry, still smiling, reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against Y/N’s hand. She looked down at their hands for a moment, her heart picking up its pace, before she slowly met his gaze.

His voice was quieter now, tinged with something deeper, more serious. “Let me kiss you”

Y/N’s breath caught, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. She didn’t say anything at first, just a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she looked up at him. Her heart raced in her chest, but her eyes were full of warmth as she held his gaze.

Harry took that as all the encouragement he needed.

With a soft exhale, he leaned across the small table, his eyes still locked onto hers. The moment felt like it lasted forever, the world narrowing down to just the two of them. He closed the space between them, tilting his head slightly, and gently pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative—like he was savoring every second. But as the connection deepened, it became something more. It was warm and soft, full of the unspoken chemistry that had been building between them for days. The flickering candlelight illuminated their faces as they pulled away slightly, both a little breathless, eyes still locked in that quiet, shared understanding.

Y/N smiled softly, her heart hammering in her chest as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still feeling the warmth of his touch on her skin.

“Well, that escalated quickly! A kiss, a soft chuckle, and suddenly, we’ve got a proper Love Island romance on our hands. Who knew dinner and a kiss could be the most suspenseful part of the evening? Stay tuned, folks”

-> part 5

let me know if you would like to get added to the tag list!

TAGLIST: @st-ev-ie, @harrystyleshotwife, @valuunit, @familyshow-orisit, @ellaorchard, @loverrryxo, @dashingday, @harrystyles1d52, @stylessbean, @gem1712, @girlontheblock

213 notes · View notes

astrologylunadream · 10 months ago

Text

What They Think of You 💬🍑🍨 ໒꒱˖˚. (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hii it's Lunadream~ We're going to see what that person really thinks of you! Time to spill the tea on them my loves🤭 Thank you for 1.7k! hope you find your message!💌

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~☕️🍑♡₊‧⁺˖

Pile 1✨️

Pile 2🩶

Pile 3🏹

Pile 4💒

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🎀

Pile 1✨️

Sign energy: Bend, Unseen, Ego, Under, Focus, Scorpio, 5th house, Water, Chiron, 8th house,🟩✉️♑️🥗

🍨Your person's energy: Okay your person's energy is very intense and attention grabbing😳 Passionate nature to them, they get fixated on things easily I'm hearing. Prominent energy is Scorpio, Leo, Capricorn. May have 5th/8th house placements, also water sign energy is present here. For some I'm also getting scorpio/pluto in 5th vibes, they have such an attractive and magnetic beauty😩🖤 This person is romantic too, their passion and focus in their romantic relationships can almost be intoxicating because they are so intense😭 They seem untouchable or a little intimidating to others, but they are not overly cocky. They have their ego in check for sure, like they have a healthy sense of self worth without overdoing it👑 For some in this pile, your person may have obsessed hidden admirers or people look up to them in some way secretly. Your person is very analytical and they just have such a powerful presence about them!!👏❤️‍🔥🧲 But they do have unseen possessive tendencies about them, like they are the kind to want their person to be THEIRS only. May be a bit controlling and distrustful. They can be very serious and take things to heart. Your person wants to live healthy and successfully, might want to follow a strict diet for some.🥗🍵 They are self disciplined and work hard on themselves I'm hearing, may tend to hide their pain or wounds whether it's physically or emotionally.💔 This person may be sort of a rolemodel to you, or they inspire you somehow. That's really sweet🥺 Green is a significant color here, you may really wish to get in touch with this person or want to confess your feelings💗

💬What they think of you: Dominant, Yellow, Alice in wonderland, Far away, Diary, Venus, 5th house, 3rd house, Saturn, 6th house,🎰💎🤩🤙

Okay my pile 1's you could be at a distance from this person mentally or phsyically, whatever the case they think they can't properly manage you. Like they don't think they can control the situation or take any action with you.😩✋️ It doesn't sit right with your person because they hate feeling powerless like that.🫢 I can definitely see a phsyical attraction from your person, they could overthink their relationship with you.💭🌪 But to them, you are so attractive and full of charm.💋 They think of you as something precious and full of worth, like seriously you are so desirable and I think that stresses your person out😭 They think you're strong and independent, that might make them insecure because they want to be needed depended on. For only some of my pile 1's there could be power struggles within your relationship and how you view eachother. They think you're overly flirty?❤️‍🔥😂 Idk honestly you might not even act like that but it's just your person thinks you're being intentional with everything you do ohhh they are so jealous pile 1🙈🔥✨️ They worry if you're bad news, it feels like they are playing with fire. But they think you're really cool!! They're impressed by you honestly, and you pique their curiosity and interest. It seems the main thing here is that they're very unsure about your intentions, they think you're risky.😳 For whatever reason your person is hesitant to take action, like you're a dangerous person they don't think they can tame. They are nervous and in their head about the situation with you.🧠💭 Definitely wondering about you, there is possibility of romantic attraction from their side here👏 Something about you seems rare and untouchable, they are questioning you as well as themselves🫢❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: Believe in yourself, I need someone, It's hard to resist, You seem so happy, Not everything is meant to be, I understand you, I wish I could give you a sign, I don't like where this is going.💸🥂😌🪞 (The mirror emoji came out wow that the image of this pile!)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the sparkle emoji~✨️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 2🩶

Sign energy: Breath, Audience, Neptune, Practice, Youth, 1st house, 6th house, Taurus, Fire, Libra,🥺🏰🦀💃

🍨Your person's energy: This is someone you are fantasizing about pile 2 I see you~👀💕 Lol this person has a really nice voice, they could be younger for some mostly they are just very youthful.☀️ Signs that came out are Pisces, Aries, Virgo, Taurus, Libra and fire energy, they could be Libra/Venus rising or have Neptune in 6th house, Taurus over the 6th for some. There is some Cancer symbolism aswell, Your person is quite pretty!🤗💖 You could be like this emoji whenever you see them🥺 Very beautiful physically, for some of you this person has many admirers, it seems like especially feminines favor this person.♀️ There is some fire energy present here, this person could enjoy music or dance. Mexico could be significant to your person for some of you💫🇲🇽 I'm hearing the tango lol. Whoever this is has a feminine energy to them (no matter their gender) And feminines feel very drawn to them, they are a very likable person I'm hearing.🥰 This is definitely someone you are romantically interested in because of the venus energy present in this reading so far, this person is very lovely my pile 2's!💖 I feel like this person has sort of princess/prince vibes to them, also getting "pretty privilege" lol people may take a liking to them almost like love at first sight, also they're persuasive like they could ask for something in a sweet voice and anyone would be sold on them😭🩷 Very cute, your person is so charming!

💬What they think of you: Poker face, Compliment, Fancy, Unicorn, Neptune, 4th house, Virgo, 12th house, Sun, Water,🦢🔫🙆‍♀️🎤

Alright so this person definitely thinks of you haha. They think you're classy and even graceful, that is likely something they would want to compliment you on. You're caring and respectful, it feels very unclear what they really think of you or at least you feel that way🥲 They more so unconsciously think of you, even worry. They can't exactly figure you out, you're something very rare to them with unicorn coming out here. You have a mystical vibe to you, graceful and alluring💕✨️ Your person may have dreams of you. You are very mysterious to them, they think you're confusing and they wanna know more about you especially your family or background.🏠 This person's thoughts of you may be hidden from you, they could seem disinterested or send mixed signals instead of what they actually think of you.💭🫥 They haven't met anyone like you I'm hearing, pile 2 is quite individual! They think you're a catch, also very caring about you they might worry if you have eaten or got enough sleep little things like that🥺💗 Really sweet, they think you're neat and well dressed I'm hearing. I am getting swan lake vibes for this pile, like this person thinks of you as odette lol. They think of you like a swan, very pretty and full of grace🦢 For some of you this person fantasizes of you without realizing it, like they could be unaware that they dream of you omg🤭 You take up this person's unconscious mind I'm hearing, so that's what they think of you!

💌Messages from your person: You can't let others hurt you, Give me a sign, You owe it to me, You bring me peace, My wounds won't heal, No, You're so lucky, It's killing me.🍹🍵🌧🐇 (I think this person feels like you're so blessed, they are down about something, they feel behind like you're way ahead of them in some way😢💓)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the grey heart emoji~🩶 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 3🏹

Sign energy: Walk, Girlie, Street, Feel, Blossom, Venus, 4th house, 12th house, Capricorn, 5th house,😵‍💫🏠🚨💭

🍨Your person's energy: Okay this is someone very sweet and for some this person could have a sensitive side, they are very pretty🥰💗 This could be someone you met during spring, at work, somewhere beautiful even on the street for some.🌸 They have a feminine energy about them (regardless of gender!), their energy is just so pretty and kind. You may feel emotionally attracted to this person, I meant attached but my keyboard kept correcting me so I'll take it as a sign for you guys lol you might be attracted to this person's emotional side.😂💘 You feel a connection with them, you may feel like you really know them even if you don't know them that well. Oh right and signs for them may be Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Capricorn or Leo, Venus in 4th or 12th for some, Venus is 5th even, Capricorn/Cancer/Pisces venus, there is a lot of signs here they have noticable venusian energy and possibly 4th/5th/12th house placements!😇 Your person is so cute! They walk very beautiful and for some of my pile 3's they feel feminine or just very goodlooking/beautiful. This person might get confused a lot, their little mind is so imaginative😭🩷 They are very comforting, you may feel like you want to protect them and keep them safe. They have a siren energy, very alluring and illusive. Very connected to their home I'm hearing, pile 3 your person is such a dream! They are very intuitive and maybe even psychic, for some they could even be a hopeless romantic.💐

💬What they think of you: Distance, Secret admirer, August, Academy, 3rd house, 4th house, 9th house, Sagittarius, Uranus, Sun,🙈☔️🪄🆙️

Very interesting! This is so cute, I think my pile 3's person secretly admires them🤭🩷 They think you're really smart and they look up to you, you're a bit of an inspiration to them. You are like a ray of sunshine my pile 3's, you brighten their day☀️☺️ This person sees you as adventurous and wise, also super fun. They admire your free spirit, your knowledge and the way you think and communicate! You bring them more excitement, I can see them covering their face and smiling omg it is possible for some of you this person has a little crush on you! (or a big one😳) Secret admirer came out so it feels like they are interested in you or maybe they think you're interesting in them, they are mesmerized by the way you radiate confidence and kindness effortlessly, they care about you. You feel familiar to them, they feel comfortable in your presence I'm getting.💞🫂 August could be significant here, I'm doing this reading in august haha. You come off well cultured and extremely intelligent to this person, they may see you as someone they want to be cared by🥺 Or reverse they might want to take care of you, take what resonates! They think you communicate in a unique way, it sounds like they think you're genius lol.🧠💡 They admire your speaking abilities and think you're quite interesting, this person is very curious about you my pile 3's!🎉 They want to learn from you, they just wanna be around you, they like your energy.💬💞 You could be at a distance with them, for some you may talk online with this person. Some of you study with this person or possibly college for some. They think of you like a best friend, maybe even like a sibling but only for some. They think you are above their level in some way, they admire you so much omg.🫶🥺

💌Messages from your person: You make me nervous, Too bad, Be my lover, I'll only hold you back, I've seen you in my dreams, I want to share my interests with you, Can't we just see eachother? You make me sad.🧎‍♂️‍➡️🐭🧽🪜 (omg I'm crying there is some sort of distance here, they feel emotional over you pile 3😭 they are on their knees for you, mice/rats may be significant)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the arrow bow emoji~🏹 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Pile 4💒

Sign energy: November, Run, Restraint, Winter, Closure, Fire, Moon, 3rd house, 5th house, 8th house,🆘️🌆📌💭

🍨Your person's energy: Wow this energy is intense, so much red imagery🫢 I was already picking up on scorpio energy and then boom 8th house at the end. This person could be born in november or winter for some, strong fire energy in this pile. They could be fire moon, Moon in 3rd house, Moon in 8th house, Scorpio moon, Fire in 8th house, Gemini, Leo, Scorpio sun or moon. This person has a sharp mind, their words are like knives I'm hearing🗣🔪🔪🔪 Some of you might be looking for closure with this person, this could have been someone you ended a relationship with or there is some tension or passion coming from them.😳🌋 This person is very attractive and seductive, they have intense emotions. They might have to hold themselves back from saying things that they shouldn't or from scaring anyone.🙊 You know looking at the image of this pile it has an eerie vibe, I think that fits your person too. Their mind might be a little destructive, for some this person has intrusive dark thoughts.💭 They are a deep and passionate lover, their energy is dangerous because because you feel drawn to it like a black hole.🕳😰 Yes this person very hot, but also make sure they aren't toxic or manipulative. Cities may be significant, also sunsets. You could feel pinned down by this person's energy, omg.😳 They are mentally attractive. There is a tension here with them, could be romantic tension or just simply conflict for others. This could definitely be an ex for some in this pile, or someone that feels forbidden. You may feel like you can't leave them, if this person is showing unhealthy behavior please use your own judgement just had to say because I love you pile 4😭❤️ Overall this person has a very strong energy, it's a little suffocating lol you may feel drawn to them like fire. Also some of you may be secretly obsessed with this person.

💬What they think of you: Violate, Special, Right, Endurance, Meeting, Eros, Scorpio, Capricorn, Water, 10th house,🟥👄🎁🛩

Okay there is a lot of passionate energy here um, this person thinks you're very strong and independent. They think you're special, they could be planning on meeting you in the future. This person thinks you're mature and responsible while also being hot as hell😭🔥 Well pile 4 I think this person wants to do bad things with you. I'm trying to keep it light for this reading of course, but this energy is very 🔞🥵 There is a ton of attraction from their side, for some of you this person is obsessed with you. They view you as an object of their desires, also they want to give themselves to you.😳 They are heavily attracted to my pile 4's, I'm picturing them staring at pile 4's lips rather then their eyes like what they think of you in a very sensual way. I'm hearing they want to "earn" you, they might bribe you with gifts or other things to seduce you.💋🎁 I feel like this person hopes they can make you fall for them. They might want to be intimate with you, they are very naughty about you honestly. They think of you a lot, also they might think of the future with you often. They might fantasizing being a little impulsive with you. I'm getting them planning and scheming how to get you to be theirs lol. They think you are just as intimidating as them and they love it, you're a baddie in their eyes.❤️‍🔥😈 They think you're hard to get, also one of a kind. I'm hearing "limited edition" that is what they think of you as. They think you're hard to please too I won't say why though🫣🚫 Honestly this person is exploding with passion over you, like they just phsyically react to just the thought of you. You make this person's thoughts so unholy, I'm not surprised because their initial energy was very intense and passionate. Please be careful with this person though, make sure they are only out for your best interest of course. Also I think they should keep their wild thoughts controlled so don't give them everything all at once.💋

💌Messages from your person: I can't tell, Don't get it twisted, I like it when you say my name, Would you let me? You're so positive, You're so serious, You're so funny, I want to give you everything.📿🥂🤐🪜 (I think they really like your personality, what got them so hell bent over my pile 4 they are hooked😩)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the wedding cathedral emoji~💒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🩷💭

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

531 notes · View notes