#at the right time it will ignite your spirit

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Slytherin Boys' Reaction to Another Boy asking you to the yule ball : ✦ 」

[Mattheo Riddle / theodore Nott / lorenzo berkshire]

Mattheo Riddle :

Mattheo had been waiting for the right moment to ask you to the Yule Ball, rehearsing his words and planning the perfect approach. However, his plans were dashed when he heard that someone else had beaten him to it. Frustration and possessiveness surged through him, but he decided to take a mischievous yet playful approach to address the situation.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Mattheo orchestrated a playful kidnapping of the boy who had asked you to the Yule Ball before him. Confronting the boy, Mattheo made his feelings clear.

"So, I hear you've asked her to the Yule Ball. A bold move, I'll give you that," Mattheo started, his voice carrying a warning tone. "But let me make something very clear to you. She's not yours to take. She's mine. You've stepped into a game you don't understand, and trust me, you don't want to be on the losing side."

The boy, startled by the sudden turn of events, stammered out an explanation, but his gaze remained firm.

he spotted you across the ballroom, and with a contrite expression, he approached you, a single red rose in his hand.

"I'm sorry. I should have asked you to the ball first. You deserve better than the way I handled things," he admitted, his eyes filled with regret.

You smiled softly, accepting the rose. "If you had asked me first, I wouldn't have said yes to him."

His determination shone through as he promised, "I will make it up to you, baby. I promise."

Dancing under the shimmering lights, the tension between you melted away as you talked and laughed, reconnecting in a way that felt natural and comforting.

Stepping out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, Mattheo gazed into your eyes. "The moon is so beautiful tonight," you remarked, your eyes fixed on the sky.

"Yeah, very beautiful," Mattheo whispered, his gaze shifting from the moon to you. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, soft kiss under the moonlit sky—a kiss you had been waiting for, a moment of clarity and realization of mutual feelings that had been brewing for years.

theodore Nott ;

Theodore Nott's dark smirk intensified as he processed the news, his competitive spirit igniting a fire within him. He wasted no time and confronted the boy who dared to ask you to the Yule Ball, his aura exuding authority and a hint of danger.

"I hear you've extended an invitation to her for the Yule Ball. Interesting choice," Theodore began, his voice carrying a veiled threat. "But let's get something straight. She's not just any girl you can whisk away for a night. She's special, and she's mine to protect."

The boy, trying to defend himself, replied, "That’s for her to decide. I just thought she might want to go with me."

Theodore's eyes flashed with warning, his patience wearing thin. "Think again. You're treading on dangerous ground. If you know what's good for you, you'll rescind that invitation before things get messy."

The next day, when Theodore discovered that the boy hadn't complied, he took matters into his own hands. He arranged for the boy to have an unexpected "vacation" under Madam Pomfrey's care in the hospital wing, ensuring he wouldn't be attending the Yule Ball.

Approaching you at the ball with a sheepish smile, Theodore revealed, "He's not coming, love."

Confused, you asked, "What—why?"

"I made sure he won't be able to walk for a week," Theodore admitted, his tone apologetic. "I owe you an apology. I should have been the one to ask you to the ball first."

Surprised by his confession, you started to speak, but he gently cut you off. "No, I was just nervous to ask you."

"You—nervous?" you echoed in disbelief.

"Imagine that? Yeah, me too. I'm still trying to figure out what you have done to me, love," Theodore admitted, a genuine smile breaking through his earlier intensity.

Later that night, as you found a quiet corner of the ballroom, Theodore took your hand, apologizing again. Without hesitation, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his emotions laid bare in the passionate embrace.

Lorenzo berkshire :

Lorenzo watched from afar as the boy approached you, asking you to the Yule Ball. His jaw clenched as he felt a surge of jealousy and possessiveness. Determined to make his feelings known, he waited for the right moment to act.

During a Quidditch match, Lorenzo saw an opportunity. As the boy flew past, Lorenzo angled his broomstick just right, causing a collision that sent the boy tumbling. Everyone else thought it was an accident, but you knew better.

That night, Lorenzo sought you out, his expression dark with intensity. "You say yes to any other boy, and God help me for what I will do," he said, his eyes locked onto yours.

You smiled softly, meeting his gaze. "If you had asked me, I would have never said yes to him from the start, Enzo."

On the day of the ball, Lorenzo didn't leave your side, his hands possessively on your waist as you danced. "Call down, Enzo," you said gently, trying to soothe his intense emotions.

"I can't, not when I can't get the face of that stupid boy asking you first out of my mind. I'm sorry," Lorenzo admitted, his voice filled with regret.

You continued dancing, trying to distract him. As the music swirled around you, Lorenzo suddenly pulled you towards a secluded area, his hunger and desire evident in his eyes. Pressed against a tree, he kissed you passionately, his emotions overflowing.

You gently reminded him that you were there with him and no one else, calming him down from his intense emotions from time to time throughout the night.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[neuvistar]

❝ MISSING YOU. ❞ signed. jiyan . wc . 721.

— featuring ┊jiyan x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! vaginal fingering, mild titplay, he’s so soft it hurts, use of nicknames (love, wife, etc), jiyan n his fingers.. no comment. | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊fell in love w jiyan i lowk think i have a type ✊😇 i got so many writings sitting in the booty cracks of my drafts i’m acc so serious :,) i finished most of them tho! i jus need time 2 figure out when i’ll post them! ++ this is one of the times where i DIDNT post at 1am!! (it’s 8am i’m going back 2 sleep after)

“i missed you, my love.”

jiyan’s heart swells with a fierce protectiveness as he holds you close on his lap after your shared shower with him. you sulked and huffed at him, and he knew why. he hadn’t been home for these past few weeks, busy with his usual activities as a general. he wanted to make it up to you, try and be all sweet.. yet the sight of you, so damp and vulnerable in his arms was enough to drive him absolutely insane.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t able to write back, you sent me quite a few letters.” the general’s fingers trace gentle circles against your cunt, a soothing gesture meant to bring comfort, to remind you that you are safe— providing you with as much ease as possible. “you’re safe now that i’m here.” he murmurs, his voice a warm rumble against your head. jiyan’s thumb flicks gently against your clit, the teasing touches a tender balm to your wounded spirit. “i promise i’ll try to visit you more often, no matter how busy i can get,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion. "but for now, let me take care of you. let me be your safe haven." his fingers slip inside you, a slow, sensual invasion meant to calm your nerves. your husband rubs gently, his eyes locked on your pretty face he loved so dear, gauging your reactions—searching for some sign of solace in his touch. "does that feel good?" he whispers, his fingers moving in a languid rhythm designed to soothe the storm raging within you. “jiyan.. n—need you so bad..”

“i know you do baby, i know you do.” your beloved husband’s heart skips a beat at your voice.. the voice he longed to hear, your involuntary response igniting a fire in his loins. he bit his lip, his free hand trailing up your body to cup your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple. "you’ve missed me, haven’t you?" he murmured, his voice husky and thick with desire.. slowly trailing kisses and nibbles against your neck— teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "tell me what you need, and i’ll give it to you.” he promises, his fingers never faltering in their slow, rhythmic dance.

“m—more.. i want more.” your response to his touch is both gratifying and arousing, a surge of desire flickering through his veins. he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers, your body arching into his touch as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "then let go for me.” your body shuddered in his hold, the tension in your core building— you were close already.. his hot breath ghosting over your ear, “let me hear you, my love. let me hear how much you’ve been missing me," he commands, his voice a low, gravelly purr. the pace of his fingers quicken, the slickness coating his digits a testament to his own arousal. jiyan could feel it.. he could feel his cock straining against his pants, aching for release, but he won't give in to his own desires until he's brought his pretty wife to the brink.

the fast flicks of his fingers were driving you to the edge, “mm.. more, right?" jiyan’s other hand slid up your body, fingers teasing and tweaking your delicate nipples, adding another layer of desire. "anything for you.” he murmurs, every touch, every flick, a promise of pleasure and protection. jiyan knew what you needed in this moment, and he's more than willing to give it to you. he wants to overwhelm you with the intensity of their connection, to drown your worries in the tidal wave of your shared pleasure with him. “you’re going to come for me, right?" he purrs, his pace escalating. jiyan’s fingers curl inside you, the change in sensation designed to push you closer and closer to the edge. "say my name when you come for me." he demanded shyly, his thumb moving faster, more insistent. "i want to hear my name come out of your mouth..” the dark room is thick with the scent of sex and the sound of your whines and whimpers, with a desperate whine—your body tightened around his fingers, the sensation of his fingers sending a surge of joy through you.

damn. his fingers.. have they always felt this good?

[astrologylunadream]

Are They Attracted To You?💋🌺🌹 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hi it's Lunadream❤️ This is an honest reading for whether or not that person on your mind has romantic attraction towards you! 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: Facial expression, Body, Art, Right, Demand, 5th house, Taurus, Aries, 2nd house, 9th house,📞🤪🏜🙅‍♂️

🎀Your person's energy: Okay hi so this person is quite smart, they might often be right about things or they always want to be right. They could have sort of a dominant way about them, like they want to be heard.🗣☝️ There is prominent aries or 1st house placements here, also Taurus. Sagittarius, Leo, actually all fire signs wow so this person has a straightforward or directness to them. One of the first things that came up is their body is a work of art lol😂😭 Seriously they might have the build of a greek statue for some, they could be phsyically fit or in shape I'm hearing "sculpted"🦵💪👀 That could mean someone who is creative or into making things too take what resonates.🪄 I feel like this person could make some really funny faces, like they could have very animated facial expressions.😜 Your person may trive on having attention on them, or they just get it without trying. Their voice is attractive, also they can be interested in many exotic genres of music.🎧🎼 For some of you this person is from a hot climate, or they are just hot themselves😉 They are sensual and headstrong, this could be someone from a long distance but I only see that for a few of you. They are exciting and want to enjoy many hobbies, there is a thirst for adventure in them.🪂🌋 They could love food especially from different cultures, they are expressive in their body langauge aswell😅🔥 This person might appear wild or reckless. Possibly a bit demanding sometimes or even selfish it depends on the person, but I think they are a youthful spirit.

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Dating, Warrior, Reconnect, Passion, Finger, Leo, Pisces, Moon, Neptune, Chiron,🔊🥺💁‍♂️🪃

Okay there is a lot of passion here, for some of you this person wants to date you!🫵❤️‍🔥 Like they are energetically pointing at you like "pile 1 date me now😤" lmao. They have a desire to reconnect with you emotionally and heal you with this passion and devotion I'm hearing, but I think your judgement is needed here because the situation is iffy.🤨🔍 Although there is a lot of attraction from this person, it could be more like infatuation for them. This person feels restless and easily bored, I do see that this person would get an ego boost from dating you.🔝🏆 They are very vocal about their attraction to you my pile 1's, but they're wearing rose colored lenses a bit when it comes to you. This person fantasizes about you, and they want to win your heart.🫢❤️‍🔥 It's like they are in a gauntlet of war competing with your potential suitors in the spiritual realm lol😂⚔️ Be careful though as this person's attraction may be unstable or flighty, the spark they feel may ignite but also burn out fast. They could lose interest easily in relationships I'm hearing, it's hard for them to keep focus. I think they have a soft spot for you though, they want to prove themselves to you.🎁✨️ This attraction to you feels more loyal and devoted than they usually are. They want to reach out to you, for some of you this person wants to apologize for something or heal any emotional wounds you have.🫂💞 This person's attraction to you is more on a spiritual and emotional level than phsyical but I'm seeing that too, they feel attached to you most energetically.🔗💭 They are attracted to you because of the psychic bond you two share, your soul is so precious to them and they don't want to see you suffer. Wow I think this person is very emotional over you, there is a mixture of passion and love for this pile.🌹🩷 For some of you this person is having dreams of you, their subconcious is very attracted towards you. I think this person is healing, maybe that is why their energy was so chaotic at first. You may be keeping them in tune with their more caring or nurturing self.

💌Messages from your person: I still love you, It's the start of something new, You're pretty, Nothing else matters, I can't believe you would choose me, You read my mind, I stay asleep dreaming of you, It feels so good. 🐇🛑🍪🕯(Wow yes they dream of you pile 1 and they fantastize of you, definitely a psychic connection here!❤️🥹)

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 pink heart emoji~🩷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 2💋

Sign energy: Back off, Lesson, Glow up, Top, Force, Air, Neptune, Jupiter, 6th house, Pisces,♂️💦🍒🍭

🎀Your person's energy: Wow this person does not like us channeling their energy right now lol😅 Their vibe seems confused and very resistant, they could be very busy or unavailable right now.✋️😠 I feel like this person has a defensive energy towards my pile 2's, they try to be realistic I'm hearing. For some of you this person is masculine or dominant, they could even be phsyically bigger for some of my pile 2's🫢 Air sign energy, Pisces, Sagittarius, Virgo, those could be in their chart. Maybe Neptune in pisces or in the air signs for some, jupiter in 6th house is possible, also pisces mars or neptune-mars aspects. these are all mutable signs actually. This is someone you can learn a lot from, or you will learn valuable lessons from your connection with them.💡 This person is so resistant you guys like they are in this energy of pushing you away?? It feels like they are being way too hard on themselves as well as you.💔 This person is very cautious and intelligent, they may not believe in fairytales or misleading fantasies. Honestly for some in this pile it seems as if they think you are getting your hopes up with them, that could definitely be the case for many of you. They might feel like they are more mature or responsible in some way, they seem to be very strict or judgemental towards you.🤨 I mean, this person is very forceful in their intentions and I think they don't want you to get hurt or have your dreams crushed.💭🚫 There is an absence from this person, they could be distancing themselves from you or there is some lack of engagement physically. I mean this person is very attractive and their chest is very noticeable, some of my pile 2's may be unrealistic about this person.😓 Their energy is currently very tense, they have a lot of discipline I'm hearing. They are forceful and driven. Behind their functional facade they are quite emotionally challenged, but they try to hide their feelings or control them.❤️‍🩹

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Libra, Force, Society, Honey, Frozen, 11th house, Pluto, Moon, Leo, Pisces,📚🧲🎠🧐

Ah so this is interesting pile 2! Force came out twice in this reading and with pluto I think there is a magnetic pull towards you here actually.😳😍 I'm surprised by their initial energy but it seems like they are stuck fighting their emotions, their attraction towards you may go against their own societal expectations or they are worried about their image😱👤✨️ They have a lot of pressure on them, so I think their energy is quite intense towards you. You make them emotional and this confuses them, they feel unable to take any action I'm hearing. It's like this person is frozen with indecision about my pile 2's🧊❄️ They could be weighing their options right now, for some of you this person is also faking their confidence in front of you. They are hiding their feelings, but they feel a a psychic pull towards you pile 2!!💭✨️ They might be searching for information especially online in order to identify these emotions omg.😨 They may have an strange thirst for knowledge about you that they can't explain, they are deeply curious about you without even realizing it. For some this could even mean possible obsession, they can't seem to figure you out so I think that morphs into a type of attraction for them.🧠🖤 This is quite the plot twist. They may not be aware of their interest in you, but there is a strange attachment to you. For some of you they may even be silently learning more about you through social media or any way they can. It is possible this person is definitely not aware of their attraction to you and they may not even feel it at first, but it is subconcious.😳💭 Either they are putting on an act about how they feel or for others in this pile they haven't realized they feel an attraction to you, but this secret is yet to be revealed for them my pile 2's❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: My future is with you, You have so much to say, I have no boundaries with you, You're so delicate, You are, It's all fake, Can I hold you? I'm trying to find myself.🎎🤩🚨🙃 (Okay pile 2 so this person admits to it they have been putting on an act, they have been hiding their true energy towards you relentlessly but they just can't hold back from you. They are lost and trying to figure things out, my pile 2's this person wants to hold you.😫❤️)

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 kiss emoji~💋 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 3🌺

Sign energy: Vision, Star, Try, Control freak, Meaning, Gemini, Virgo, 3rd house, Vertex, Earth,😇🕷🍪🤙

🎀Your person's energy: Exciting! This person feels witty and analytical, they may be a fast thinker or use their head a lot.🧠💭 They can be focused and may be good at communicating, also a very angelic personality🥰✨️ They try to be helpful and have meaningful conversations with others, but they can also be very controlling for some. They are skilled with their hands, and they may be very good at many things including speaking.🗣👑 They could be Earth sign, Gemini, Virgo, or Mercury dominant. 3rd house placements, also virgo in 3rd house for some. This person may talk or think excessively.🤯 For some this person is very social and may have many friends or converse with lots of people often. They do well at may at school or work, they have a professional/well put together vibe about them. They want to be a fast and efficient person.🔨✨️ They are talented and there is a star quality about them in their expertise. May be very thorough and detailed. They could have a good reputation or people see them as bright example.⭐️ They may be a rolemodel of some sort or you look up to them. This person possibly struggles with overthinking or anxiety, they often have their mind on many different things.👀 They are mindful and think things through. Try to appear cool in most conversations😎 Very clever and sweet I'm hearing, they might freak out about some stuff sometimes. Like for some of you this person could be afraid of spiders or like not completing an assignment lol things like that😂

🌺Are They Attracted To You: At last, Responsibility, Ladder, Masculine, Accessory, Aries, 7th house, Sagittarius, South node, Eros,🐓♈️🌫🪂

Okay so there is a lot of passion in this pile, they see you as something hot and untamable! There is heavy aries influence here, some of you may be aries🤭 This person is normally level headed and responsible but you bring out this wild side to them😳🔥 There is a lot of attraction to you my pile 3's, honestly you really turn them on😭 This person may feel tempted by you, or you challenge them in some way. You make them want to act tougher or more dominant with you, you bring out a reckless version of this person, it's like a hidden monster that has been waiting to be unleashed.👿⛓️ Mhm this person is wild about you honestly, their feelings are loud and clear here. They are attracted to your free spirit, they want to take risks with you.🪂🔥🚀 Something about you is foreign to them, almost forbidden. If you're in the room with them, the air feels thicker. They have such a passionate fiery energy towards you, but this attraction is also an interest in a commitment with you. They may desire a long term relationship instead of a fleeting romance. This person feels like you complete them, and they may be very attracted to you as their romantic counterpart take what resonates of course.💍💖 They feel an obligation towards you, like they have to be strong or reliable for you. You excite this person, there is a spark they see in you.🔥😫 They might feel like you are dangerous for them though, and there could be lots of physical tension between you two. They try to keep composed, like they are fighting their demons.🥊 You make them feel empowered and full of passion and drive. They may especially view you as phsyically attractive or their ideal type. I'm hearing you cloud their judgement and you could even make them lose their inhibitions.❤️‍🔥 So much attraction!

💌Messages from your person: I know it's hard, I love the shape of your lips, The pain will go away, You're a genius, Don't just stand there, So what? You're too kind, Of course you won't. 🆚️✍️😡🤐 (Ohh pile 3 this person is hot and bothered, they think you're really sweet and smart and they know you won't just let it go to waste🥰 This is a mix of tension and appreciation from this person, wow I think they want to compete for you🥺)

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 hibiscus emoji~🌺 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 4🌹

Sign energy: Beloved, Model, Leo, Blush, Make out, 12th house, Air, Pluto, 11th house, Mercury,⛓️🥀💆‍♀️⛪️

🎀Your person's energy: So.. some of you wanna make out with this person right now😂 lmao just kidding but yes there is a lot of attraction to this person haha. Some of my pile 4's really love this person, they make your day. They could be a model or they have that kind of allure to them, they just earn effortless attention and obsession lol.💫 You may dream of them, even fantasize of them. You feel spiritually connected to them, and of course it is very apparent in the energy that you are interested in them through tarot/astrology. Some of you met this person online or they don't know your identity, only some. This person could be famous or people's heads just turn to them.👤✨️ Could be actor or creator for some, they are talented in something. Some of you are not with this person right now, there could be phsyical distance and lack of communication for you two.📵 They could be an Air sign, Leo, Pisces, Scorpio, Aquarius, Gemini, Mercury in 12th house, Pluto in Leo or Pluto in 11th house, Mercury in 11th house for some. I'm hearing this person is a religion lol what, they could have a lot of secret admirers like for some in this pile take what resonates lol. They could be religious, also for some they have a following on social media or an influencer.🤳 Hey they are pretty attractive I could see why, this person might make you blush.🤭💗 You may be too shy to talk to them or you just can't for some reason, they are quite captivating and glamorous.💋✨️ May attract lots of jealousy because of their radiant energy and confidence. You admire their unique qualities, they are super special. Their presence is intense and magnetic, maybe even serious for some in this pile. Strange things about them make you giggle and smile, I'm hearing they have a hold on you. You might feel like they're your soulmate, but there is an air of mystery to them. This person is so hot, some of you may fantastize being touched by them and you may not even know them that well, it feels like your heart is captured by them, maybe even a little addicted for some.🫢🩷

🌺Are They Attracted To You: Baby, Wedding, Performance, Spring, Ex lover, Taurus, 2nd house, Vertex, Aries, Leo,🕊❤️‍🔥🔑⛲️

Hm interesting, so this is giving a lot more info actually. Wedding came out my pile 4's😏💕 This person finds you naturally attractive and full of charm!😍💋 They have a playful interest in you, also very passionate and sweet. They think you're pretty, aesthetically pleasing to them in many different senses.✨️ For some in this pile this is an ex that wants you back, like the classic "come back to me baby" stereotype lmao I can hear that for some of you😅💌 they are still burning with passion for you. This could be a flame that just started for others in this pile, your connection with this person is meaningful and possibly a key aspect of your life. That is especially true because this person may want to marry you and that could actually work for them!💍💗 They have a lot of charm and attraction to you, also with the dove emoji they might definitely plan to confess or get the message across to you. They want your attention fast, they might even put on a show for it.😂 They are dramatic about you. Like for some of you this person is trying to be flashy to get your interest, they might be dressing nicer or flirting a lot. You make this person feel very flirty omg, with this mix of energy it feels like sweet talking.🗣🍬🩷 Like they feel so attracted to your warm kindness, they find you to be irresistible. They love your personal feminine qualities you whether it's like making things nicer or shopping, even your voice🥰 Some of you may be born in spring, also there are definitely some Taurus in this pile! This person is attracted to your earthly beauty, even if you don't feel pretty they see you as a goddess.🪞 This energy is very persuasive I think this person is so captivated by your aura and presence.💖 Their attraction to you is a grand, passionate and devoted kind, you are like wood they need to ignite their flames.🔥 They feel like they can trust and rely on you, they're attracted to how stable and beautiful you are pile 4! There is a lot of desire here, they want to be seen by you. Also they want to give you their attention, they're such a charmer😩❤️‍🔥

💌Messages from your person: I need you in this lifetime, Pretend you don't know me, I love the shape of your lips, Why not? Let's break up, They're jealous of me, I believe you, Focus on yourself.🧤🔮🤴🫰 (Wow of course they are quite dramatic lol. They are very attracted to you, this person may be unable to be with you right now. Some of you are dating this person or they want a relationship with you but others are jealous😳 People may want their hands on you/them, or for others it could be timing or situation that is coming between you both. This person believes in you though, I mean they believe in the divine connection you have but they want you to focus on yourself right now. There is so much love for you and they don't want you to get dragged into all the drama, they wanna be with you now but they want you to prioritize your self care and wellbeing most importantly.😩💗)

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 red rose 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

[velarisdusk]

Ice Cold Jealousy

Hockey AU | Cassian x Reader

Series Masterlist -> Part 2 - Thawing Boundaries

word count: 8.3k

content: [ explicit sexual content, PWP, unprotected PIV, rough sex, oral (m & f receiving), voyeuristic elements, possessiveness/jealousy, power dynamics, little bit of overstim?, hair pulling, dirty talk, humiliation?, biting, locker room sex (it's come to my attention that hockey locker rooms don't typically have lockers but just suspend your disbelief for a sec please), inapproproate touching, insinuation that Cass stares at Az's ass teehee | violence (physical altercation, reader not involved), blood mention, strong language | no beta we die like men ]

summary: Despite the tension on the ice, your relationship with Cassian, the commanding captain of the Velaris Vipers, is anything but cold. His jealousy ignites when the rest of the team's flirtations become too much to ignore. In the aftermath of a disastrous game, the boundaries between playful teasing and intense passion blur, leading to a locker room encounter that challenges both your resolve and your control.

author's note: WOW, okay, this is the first fic I've written for ACOTAR, and the first fic I've written in close to a decade, so excuse me if I'm a bit rusty :) I've been going through a hockey thing lately, watching random games on youtube in their entirety, so obviously that means I had to write Cass, duh. Sorry it's on the longer side; I just had lots of ideas... like only 3k of this is plot lmfao. Enjoy!

Cassian knows they’re fucked.

You can see it on his face. With two points down and precious little time left on the clock, they need a miracle. The referee skates to center ice, puck in hand. You lean forward, breath caught in your throat, as the Velaris Vipers take their positions. The air is thick with tension, the crowd’s roar fading into a dull buzz in your ears. You knew the Hewn City Hellhounds were good, but never imagined they’d pose this much of a problem. 

Cassian’s and Azriel’s eyes meet for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them. The puck drops, and its whereabouts for the seconds after are a mystery to you. After an unruly clash of hockey sticks and a mess of bodies, Cassian passes to Azriel on his left, who takes off down the ice with it. Cassian moves to mirror him on the opposite side of the ice. The Hellhounds’ defense closes in, but Cassian and Azriel move in perfect sync, the puck zipping between their sticks in a blur. They dance around the opposition, narrowly avoiding checks, their movements so fluid they don’t need to look to know where the other will be.

Just as Azriel is about to be boxed in by two defenders, a swift flick of his wrist sends the puck to Tarquin who’s come up to support them. You let out a sigh of relief, not even having seen him since he was back by the net. 

Why is he up here instead of back by the net? Eris should’ve been there; it’s his one job as a winger to support Cassian as center in making goals. You scan the rink, but don’t need to for long. He skates right up to you with an air of nonchalance, like he doesn’t need to be with the rest of his team fighting for their lives. You give him an incredulous look, about to open your mouth and shout at him when he gets to the wall, but the words catch in your throat when he blows a kiss, tracing a heart on the glass with a smirk. You gather yourself quickly, but before you can scold him his back is already turned and he skates back toward the action.

You’ve grown accustomed to the team’s teasing, knowing it’s all in good spirit. But with Eris, there’s always been an undercurrent of something more intense, more deliberate. As he skates away now, you can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, just how far he’d take things if given the chance. You’ll never admit it out loud, but the way he cuts directly in front of the opposing team’s defenseman to get him away from Tarquin is impressive with how absentminded it seems. 

Watching them, you reflect on the years you’ve spent at their games and practices. Not only have you witnessed their drastic improvement, but you’ve also grown close to the team. Perhaps too close, if the playful flirtations are any indication. 

Yeah, maybe ‘close’ was a bit…

But it wasn’t your fault. Really! A little over three years ago, Cassian invited you to their season opener, your relationship still fresh. You hadn’t known the first thing about the sport so obviously you spent hours watching videos and frantically looking up your countless questions to ensure you wouldn’t be entirely lost. Cassian had told you on the drive home that night that word had spread rather quickly through the Vipers about the hot girl in the stands. You knew. Hot, definitely, but dumb? Oblivious? No. Of course you noticed their showing off — the goalie’s glances after skilled saves, the wingers’ risky shots, the defensemen’s aggressive checks and subsequent winks, smiles, and waves from the penalty box.

You’ve often recalled their expressions when Cassian called into the locker room for them to come meet you, when they’d seen the object of their displays throwing her arms around their captain’s neck, planting a kiss on his sweaty cheek. You weren’t necessarily shy about looking at them in their various states of undress through the doorway; some shirtless, others holding a towel in front of themselves for modesty. But Cassian introducing you as his girlfriend didn’t stop their light-hearted remarks, though they were much less blatant now. For the most part. There was still the stray push of boundaries. Neither of you have ever told them to stop. Though you both enjoyed their feeble attempts, found them entertaining, there were times you noticed him get jealous, if his clenched jaw and reddening face were anything to go by.

Tarquin deftly maneuvers around an opponent with a small spin, sending ice shavings spraying, and you aren’t sure if the move is meant to distract or simply add some flourish. He looks up and winks at you with a nod. You roll your eyes with a small smile and the puck is once again in Cassian’s possession. He either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care. He drives forward, eyes locked on the goal. The goalie is ready, crouched and tense, but your boys have one last trick up their sleeves. 

Cassian pulls his hockey stick back and thrusts it forward with such determination that you’re sure he’s going to take the shot. But he stops just short of the puck and in an instant pushes it left and back, where Azriel is perfectly positioned. He doesn’t hesitate, slamming the puck into the net with a force that sends it rattling.

The red light flashes. Goal.

You shoot up and cheer, your shouts blending with those of the fans all around you. Previous to this, so overtaken with nerves, all you’ve been able to do is sit tight with your arms crossed, eyes darting wildly across the rink. The jovial energy doesn’t last long though. They’re still down a point, and with only a little over a minute left now, their only chance is somehow scoring and going into overtime. 

You scan the rink. The three forwards take their positions: Eris, red hair peeking from his helmet, grips his stick tightly at right wing; Azriel, ever the shadow to Cassian’s light, settles into place with calm readiness; and Cassian, commanding center ice with unmatched presence. Rhysand and Tarquin hover near the blue line, mirroring each other’s poised intensity on defense. If you were closer that way, you might be able to see their eyes darting across the ice, calculating every possible move. Helion stands sentinel before the net, gaze piercing and unwavering. Each a powerhouse, but none more commanding than Cassian at center ice.

His presence is commanding and magnetic. The weight of the game seems to rest on his broad shoulders, yet he bears it with a fierce determination you find both exhilarating and reassuring. His dark hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his eyes are locked on the opposition with a predator’s focus. You love this about him — the way he can command the rink with just a glance, the way his intensity electrifies the very air around him. 

Off the rink, he’s just as intense in a different way: reliable, attentive, deeply devoted. The moments you share away from the chaos — quiet dinners, late-night talks, and his arms holding you close as you get drunk off of each other’s wandering hands and lips for hours — are a stark contrast to the warrior before you now. It’s this duality, this balance of strength and tenderness, that never ceases to intrigue you. 

As the clock ticked down these last few plays, you could see the resolve settling in his eyes. He isn’t just playing for the team; he’s playing for you, for the life you’re building together. 

Another loud cheer from the crowd pulls you back in, and you notice the Hellhounds have taken back possession of the puck and are rapidly approaching Helion at the goal. Rhysand intercepts a pass and carries it around the back of the goal to shoot the puck forward along the side of the rink. Where Eris is supposed to receive it, the Hellhounds’ center intercepts and, guarded by a winger on either side, plows back down the ice towards the Vipers’ goal. Their wingers do a decent job of clearing a path for him. He takes the shot, and Helion miraculously changes the trajectory of the puck with a paddle save that has the audience roaring and up on their feet again. Tarquin tries to take back possession but isn’t there quickly enough. The Hellhounds still have it and go for the shot again, this time bouncing the puck off the crossbar and away from the goal. 

40 seconds left. 

Cassian and Rhysand guard against their opponents while Azriel and Tarquin skillfully maneuver the puck down the ice, right between people’s skates at times. Tarquin is incredibly nimble and light on his feet for a defenseman, conducting several moves that force gasps from your lips, worried something would go wrong. He makes a pass to Eris right as he gets shoved into the wall by the Hellhounds’ defense. 

26 seconds.

The redhead moves with a sort of confidence that seemingly makes the other team recoil momentarily. He commands the attention of every spectator, not only because he has possession but also because of his back-to-back evasions and fakeouts. 

18 seconds. 

Eris approaches the goal, all six opponents converging. Cassian skates up to the left, perfectly positioned for a play they’ve practiced countless times. A simple, effective strategy — Eris just needs to pass to Cassian for the shot. Cassian catches Eris’ eye, giving him a nod. He’s open. 

But Eris shakes his head. 

He backtracks, attempting to outmaneuver the defense. You glance at Cassian, seeing fury building in his eyes. Tarquin and Azriel are open too, but Eris isn’t looking that way. Rhysand and Helion wear expressions of anger tinged with resigned frustration.

6 seconds left. Eris circles behind the goal, clearly aiming to nudge the puck in around the post. You can already tell it won’t work — too many opponents, and Eris’ eyes are locked on you instead of the play. He slides the puck around the post and… straight into the goalie’s leg pads. 

2 seconds. Cassian and Azriel make a desperate rush, but it’s futile. You sit with a sigh, putting your head in your hands. The buzzer blares. Game over. Hewn City Hellhounds win, 5 - 4. 

You distantly hear the cries and shouts from the other side of the arena celebrating their team’s win, mingled in are the groans of frustration and defeat from around you. What the fuck was he thinking? They’d had the perfect opportunity. You look up just in time to see your boyfriend shove Eris into the wall a few feet down from where you sit, the glass letting you see just how his face smashes against it with the impact. The spectators around you cheer Cassian on, as they, too, are frustrated at the person who cost them the possibility of overtime.

Immediately after impact, Cassian skates back a few feet, throws his helmet and gloves off, and raises his fists. Eris mirrors the action after throwing down his stick. Cassian’s is discarded way back near the goal. There’s no going in circles to see who moves first; Cassian is on him, landing blow after blow to his face and head. His own face goes red with anger as he shouts what you assume to be chastising, scolding words at the other. You can’t hear anything above the crowd around you spurring him on. Across the ice, the rest of the team just watches, arms crossed and chests heaving. 

Eris finally gathers himself, landing a left hook to Cassian’s jaw. He takes the opportunity to pull him down a bit by the hair and uses his other hand to keep punching. The refs are finally on their way to break it up, but both of their blood has already spilled onto the glass and ice. You strain to catch their words, curiosity flaring as Eris’ eyes flick to you, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. Whatever he said next had Cassian lunging forward with another barrage of punches. 

As the refs finally near them, you decide you've seen enough and navigate your way out of the stands to the locker room entrance just as you always have at the end of their matches. 

You’ve never seen him get like this. Sure, you’ve seen him get into a fight every now and then, after which he’d pout at you from the penalty box (if he wasn’t still too overcome with anger). But this? In-fighting? Never. He’s usually the one splitting the guys up. And though he gets into disagreement after disagreement with Eris, it’s never turned into this. You’re not even sure why it escalated so quickly — they’ve been doing really well this season and the playoffs are still months away. This was by no means a high-stakes game for them. 

Just as you cross your arms over your chest and lean against the wall across from the locker room door, you hear the familiar cacophony that comes with lost games. You prefer it to the times they come back silent — the times the car ride home goes by without a word exchanged. Those are few and far in between, though. 

The din of angry voices and clattering equipment grows louder as the team approaches. You straighten up, eyes fixed on the corridor’s entrance. When Cassian emerges, leading the group, your heart sinks. His jaw is clenched, gaze locked straight ahead with an intensity that makes you hesitate. 

Still, you take a few steps towards him. “Cass,” you start, your voice barely audible above the commotion.

He doesn’t even blink. Cassian strides past you, the heat of his anger almost palpable as he disappears into the locker room. The door slams shut behind him, leaving you staring at its blank surface. 

You're still processing when you feel a light touch at your waist. Azriel slides past you with a sympathetic nod. Helion follows, his hand ghosting across your lower back as he squeezes through. If you weren’t caught so off guard you may have leaned into their touch. Rhysand, ever the gentleman even in defeat, murmurs a quiet “Rough night, darling” as he moves around you.

“Think Cassian would mind if you played nurse?” Eris drawls, gesturing to his bruised face. He gives what would be a stunning smile if not for the blood staining his teeth. His eyes flicker to the locker room door, then back to you. “I promise I’d be a much more… grateful patient.” He lingers only a moment longer, and you’re sure he’d jump at the chance in a heartbeat if you gave the word, before sauntering into the locker room with a self-assured smirk.

You lean against the wall, arms crossed. The muffled sounds of frustration and anger seep through the locker room door, punctuated by the occasional crash of equipment being thrown. You check your phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media to distract yourself. Already, clips of the fight are circulating, fans dissecting every move, every punch. You decide to just put your phone back in your pocket. 

The shouting inside gradually dies down, replaced by the sound of running water. Showers. You find yourself straining to hear any indication of Cassian’s mood, wondering if the shower is doing anything to cool his temper. 

The corridor gradually empties as staff and other team personnel file out. You shift your weight from one foot to another, replying to texts to pass the time. The showers shut off one by one. You hear locker doors opening and closing, the murmur of subdued conversations. The guys eventually trickle out, hair still damp. They offer you tight smiles or brief nods as they pass, their usual post-game chatter noticeably absent. The weight of the loss and the fight hangs heavy in the air; even Eris walks past you without so much as a smirk.

“(Y/N).”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach at his tone — it’s commanding, and the raspiness from all the shouting in his already deep voice sends a conflicting shiver through you. It does nothing to calm your nerves, but ignites a different kind of tension altogether. You take a step off the wall as you respond.

“Yeah…?”

“Get in here.”

This better be fucking good, you think, but find yourself swallowing hard anyway. You push the door and step in, and if your breath wasn’t already stuck in your throat, you might have choked on it at the sight.

Cassian sits on one of the benches, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His elbows rest on his knees, hands hanging loose between them, and his damp hair partially obscures his face as he stares down at his calloused fingers.

You take a few tentative steps, stopping a few paces before the bench. The door finally shuts behind you, the loud click echoing in the otherwise silent room. Neither of you speak for long enough that you feel like you should say something, but when you open your mouth-

“Sit. And listen to me very carefully.”

His voice is low and measured, but the underlying tension is palpable. You lower yourself onto the bench across from him, heart pounding. His eyes lock onto you, dark and intense. He stands, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His towel now hangs dangerously low on his hips as he looms over you, still sitting on the bench.

“That game,” he growls, “was a disaster.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, still flushed from the shower, as he leans down, placing his hands on either side of you on the bench. You have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His face is inches from yours, breath warm on your cheek.

“Eris blew it,” he continues, voice low and rough. “But y’know what? It wasn’t just him. The whole team was off today.” He leans in closer, his breath ghosting your ear. "And I think I know why."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze roams over your face, over your surprise laden eyes, lingering on your lips before snapping back up.

"I saw the way they kept looking at you," he murmurs so quietly you can hardly hear him. "Tarquin missing easy passes, Azriel fumbling checks he'd usually nail." His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch feather-light and sending shivers down your spine. "Even Helion let in shots he'd normally block without breaking a sweat.” You can feel the tension coiling in Cassian's body, see the muscle in his jaw working as he clenches it. 

"It's getting to be too much," he says, the hand that brushed your hair back now on your chin, tilting your face up to his. "The guys can't focus when you're here." His thumb brushes across your lower lip, and you can’t help but part your mouth open a bit at the touch. "Maybe I need to stop bringing you to these things. If you're going to keep distracting the team like this..."

His gaze intensifies, dark eyes boring into yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he speaks.

"We can't have that, can we, baby?"

The notion is absurd. Stop going to his games? Your brows furrow as you look at him incredulously. “That’s hardly my fault-”

“Didn’t I tell you to sit and listen!?” He shouts suddenly, his grip on your chin tightening. Your eyes shoot wide open, but not in surprise.

In understanding. 

He’d never really talk to you like this, you both knew that. This was one of his games. And, oh, how you so loved playing them. 

You keep the smirk from tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Funny, I thought you liked it when all eyes were on me.”

“I like it when they look. I don’t like it when they forget their place.”

Your breath catches, a mix of anticipation and desire. You can see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained jealousy and possessiveness. You lean in slightly, testing the boundaries. “And what exactly is their place, Cassian?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. “More importantly, what’s mine?”

His eyes narrow at your challenge, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He releases your chin, only to trail his fingers down your neck, coming to rest at your collarbone. The light touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. “Their place?” His eyes harden slightly. “To play hockey. Nothing more. I bring them some eye candy out of the kindness of my heart, and how do they repay me? By letting themselves get distracted and costing us games.” A sharp exhale.

“Your place?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear. Without warning, his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. The sudden grip is firm but not painful. Cassian steps over the bench in one fluid motion, his hold on you guiding you to turn with him. You instinctively follow his lead, twisting on the bench to face him and rising as he pulls you close. His movements are firm as he turns you both and directs you backward, until you feel the cool press of metal against your shoulders. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he keeps you pinned there, pushing his hips against your own. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans in, closing the distance between your lips.

The kiss is nothing romantic. It’s pure lust, disguised as frustration, as consequation. Where his words were clearly deliberate, his actions feign abandon. You match his intensity, your lips moving against his with equal fervor, your body arching into his touch. The grip on your hair remained, his other hand sliding slowly from your hip to your waist, then up again to your chest. He was like a starved man, grabbing onto whatever flesh he could get his hands on. The hand you didn’t have snaked around the back of his neck desperately explored every valley of his bare torso, products of his years playing the sport. 

The sounds of heavy breaths and locking lips fill the room, grunts following not long after. Cassian lets out an especially depraved groan, rolling his head back, when you slide your hand down to squeeze him through the precariously wrapped towel. But when you move to pull it off, his own hand swats yours away.

“With what you did tonight, you think that’s allowed? You think you decide how this goes?” His words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You pause, processing his question, the sudden shift.

“What I did tonight?” you manage, your voice slightly breathless. “I didn’t do anything.”

Cassian’s laugh is low and humorless. “Didn’t do anything? Sweetheart… don’t play innocent.” His fingers tighten in your hair, making you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. “Every cheer, every jump, every little gasp… You put on quite the show, didn’t you?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the way your eyes stuck to Eris. Tell me, did you like it when he blew you that kiss?” 

Yes.

His gaze continues to burn into yours, a mix of jealousy and desire, as if he could somehow read the response in your eyes. “You’ve got the whole team wrapped around your finger and you know it.”

You steel yourself, meeting his gaze with an intense one of your own. “And so what if I do?” you challenge, voice steadier now. “I’m not responsible for how your team reacts to me. If they can’t keep their eyes on the game, maybe that’s on them.”

You lean in slightly, mimicking his earlier movement. “Or maybe it’s on you, Captain. Shouldn’t you be able to keep your team focused?” Something dangerous flashes through his eyes.

“You’re pushing boundaries you don’t fully understand.”

“Or maybe I understand them better than you think.” Your voice is steady despite the thrumming of your pulse.

“Understand this, then.” Your stomach flips. His eyes narrow, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Stirring up my team? That’s a direct shot at me, at my authority.”

You scoff, feigning incredulity. “Authority? If you had any authority, do you think they’d look at me the way they do, touch me the way they do?” A pause. “Did you think it ended with the showboating? No, baby, they put their hands on me so often I’m starting to forget what yours feel like.”

Of course he knew, noticed it early on and said nothing after discovering that neither of you truly minded. 

“Helion seems to enjoy putting his hand on my lower back when he moves around me for a chance to ‘slip’ and cop a feel,” you continue. “Ever notice how Rhys almost always greets me with a hug? Squeezes me? Oh! And the way-”

“Enough.” Cassian’s voice cuts through your words like a blade, low and sharp. The hand that doesn’t still have a fistful of your hair in it shoots out to grasp the junction of your neck and shoulder, his calloused fingers feel like they’re searing into you. “You think I don’t see it all? See how they undress you with their eyes? How their fingers itch to trace every curve they imagine beneath your clothes?”

You feel a slight downward pressure, pushing on your shoulder, pulling on your hair. “But here’s what you’re missing, sweetheart. They might play at ownership, but at the end of the day, who do they answer to?”

He pulls back slightly, to really take in the sight of you. “Who do you answer to when the game’s over and the lights go down?”

The question hangs in the air between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. Cassian’s gaze intensifies, his grip on your hair and shoulder tightening. “Because make no mistake,” he continues, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, and the downward force he’s inflicting on you growing steadily. “This little game you’re playing? It ends when I say it does.”

The pressure on your shoulder increases, his intent clear. You resist for a moment longer, but the fire in his eyes, the set of his jaw… His command is clear. Though you have half a mind to resist, a thrill runs through you, making your heart beat faster and your breath hitch slightly. The sheer possessiveness in his gaze is enough to make your knees weak. 

Slowly, inexorably, he guides you downward, your body responding almost involuntarily to the authoritative tone and the heat of his voice. You look up at him from your new position, the sight of him towering over you sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes hold yours captive as he looms above you. You’re aware of how your breathing quickens with anticipation, how Cassian’s throat bobs as he watches you. He’s still holding your hair, and you can tell he’s enjoying the submission he’s coaxed from you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and barely restrained desire.

That grip tightens a fraction as he leans into you, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing a path along your lower lip, but different from before. Where his last touch there had been gentle and barely there, this one is firm and deliberate.

Cassian’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and rough. “Open,” he commands, the single word laden with authority and promise.

You shudder as his command rolls over you, your body responding without conscious thought. Your lips part slightly in response to his order. His gaze is fixed intently on your face. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. His thumb traces along the curve of your lower lip with deliberate slowness, a firmness matching that of his eyes. For a heartbeat, he applies the gentlest pressure, slipping it into your mouth for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. “Now be a good girl and stay just like that for me.”

You hold yourself still, holding his gaze as you keep your mouth open, your tongue instinctively darting out to moisten your lower lip when he pulls his hand away. He finally releases your hair and it’s an effort to contain your sigh of relief. You hear more than see the towel fall from his hips to the floor. The same fingers that gripped your face moments ago now wrap around his girth, absently stroking the already-hard length of it. His pupils are dilated at the sight of you obediently holding yourself still, your mouth open, and he can barely restrain the hunger that’s been building in him.

Cassian’s large hand cradles your jaw, drawing you even closer. His presence is overwhelming, and as he aligns himself with your mouth, there’s no warning before he thrusts in. Initially, his movements are slow, almost deceivingly gentle, but you realize too late it’s quite the opposite. Halfway in, you manage, but as he pushes to the hilt, he does so painfully slowly. You try to relax, your throat attempting to accommodate him. The slow withdrawal is worse, your breath ragged as you inhale through your nose.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you gasping for air. He looks down at you with a mix of confusion and pity. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Struggling already. I thought you could handle more.”

You meet his gaze, eyes watering but defiant. You want to tell him that you can, that he knows you can, but when you make to speak, the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk, and he pushes back in, a little faster this time. “Is this what you wanted, baby? To be on your knees, taking me like this?”

He thrusts deeper, making you choke slightly. Cassian groans, a low rumble of a sound that reverberates through you. “That’s why you acted out, distracted my guys, huh? You just wanted me to give you a little attention.” He picks up the pace, each thrust more forceful yet. “Bet you think about this all the time,” he growls. “When you’re watching us play, you’re not watching the game, are you? No… You’re staring at Azriel’s tight, perfect ass, aren’t you? I see the way you watch him.” You can only moan in response. Cassian’s fingers slip into your hair on either side, holding your head back against the lockers, his movements becoming relentless. 

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes go to Helion between plays, when he takes his helmet off. You love how big he is, how powerful. You get off on watching him, don’t you?” The tension between you both is palpable, but his eyes are fixated on you, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I see you staring whenever any of them are in the penalty box. You’re not thinking about the game then, are you? Bet you wish you were in there with them. You’re probably thinking about Tarquin’s pretty blue eyes, you want him to pin you with that look, don’t you? Or Rhys’s hands, wanting them all over you. And Eris,” he spits out the name, pairs it with a particularly rough thrust of his hips. “You eat up the way he flexes his arms when he flirts with you, I know you do.” The locker room fills with the sounds of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the harsh whisper of his voice.

Each name, each accusation, sends a wave of shame through you. You want to deny it all, but Cassian’s relentless pace and your restrained position make it impossible. The truth is, you do think about those things — more often than you’d ever admit. The thoughts swirl in your mind, but they never take away from the attention you give Cassian. You’re most often fixated on him during games, your eyes unabashedly stuck on the way his body moves. The powerful stride of his legs, the way his strong hands grip the stick, the intense focus in his eyes. Your mind almost always lands on thoughts of his sweat-slicked skin, the hard lines of his body beneath the uniform. Your desire for him gets overwhelming, which is why the current activity is typically the one of choice after these games. 

This was the first time you hadn’t waited until home though.

He continues, his movements relentless. “You know what Eris told me out there, baby? Who am I kidding, of course you don’t, you were too busy entertaining the rest of the guys, isn’t that right?” You try to respond, but choke on his length, his brutal pace bruising the back of your throat. “Isn’t that right? Answer me (Y/N),” he growls, keeping your head firmly pressed against the lockers.

You try to answer, but all you can manage is an unintelligible garble, gagging as you attempt to speak. If there weren’t already tears in your eyes from the physical strain, there certainly would be after hearing his cold, short laugh.

“Can’t even own up to it,” Cassian tsks. “He told me that you,” he punctuates the ‘you’ with a particularly deep thrust, “have been running around telling them all how badly you want them. That you give them fuck-me eyes when I’m not around. Is that true, baby? Have you been going behind my back? Want them to pass you around and take turns with you?” At each question he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back in soon after. You manage a quick shake of your head before his grip tightens on it again. You can only look up at him with your tear-brimmed, pleading eyes. “No, I didn’t think so,” he murmurs, a thumb grazing soothingly across your cheek. You may have taken comfort in it if you didn’t know any better.

“I knew you wouldn’t say those things,” he says calmly, but suddenly pulls himself out and leans over you, forcing your head up to look at him. “But you think them, don’t you?” 

You’re still trying to gasp in air as you fight to respond. “No,” but you don’t sound convincing. Not when your voice is so hoarse. “No, I promise, I never said those things — never thought them either.” You’re coughing, trying to regain your composure, and you’re grateful he gives you a moment.

“Take off your pants,” he orders suddenly, the command sending a jolt of anticipation through you. You stand slowly, and your hands tremble slightly as you obey, slipping out of your pants and kicking them aside. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the sight of his jersey hanging loosely on you, the contrast between the oversized shirt and your bare legs making his pupils dilate with desire. “Keep it on,” he adds when you reach for it. Cassian leans forward, now eye-level with you.

 “Come on,” he breathes out, a hand snakes under the jersey and onto your bare hip, those calloused fingers squeezing. “You can’t honestly tell me you don’t think about them. How their hands would feel if they were running up your thighs, grabbing your hips, pulling you close.” His actions mirror his words deliciously, and his words pour over you in a dangerous whisper, the heat of his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine.  “About how it would feel to have their hands squeezing and groping you wherever they wanted. How about if instead of stealing little touches here and there, they grew some fucking balls, grabbed you by the hips,” his fingers dig in firmly, and you catch him tilt his chin to his shoulder, a glimpse of his true nature shining through the silent signal to grab on, “and lifted you up like this?”

You barely have a moment to grab on when, with a swift, powerful motion, Cassian lifts you up, pressing you against the lockers. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck as he holds you there, his body pinning yours and his hands holding you up by your ass. The cold metal of the lockers contrasts with the heat from both of your bodies. You try to arch away from it, but only manage to push yourself flush against him, feeling the undeniable hardness of him pressing against your core, a reminder of how desperately you both want this. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, making you gasp and tighten your grip around his neck.

You want to deny it, to insist that your thoughts are innocent, but the intensity of his gaze tells you he wouldn’t believe you. You swallow hard, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, as you shake your head once more, more for your own reassurance than his. 

“It’s not like that…” you plead, trying to catch your breath, eyes wide with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. “I—” Your voice falters, the words stuck in your throat. “You don’t understand.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening ever so slightly. You knew there would be bruises later. “Enlighten me,” he growls.

You take a breath. “When I watch you out there, all I can think about is how much I want you,” you confess. “The way you move, the way you lead and command everything… It drives me crazy. They’re just petty distractions. You’re the one I can’t resist. The one I crave,” you assure him, moving the stray hair from his eyes. “You’re the one I want, Cassian. Only you, you know that.”

His expression softens, as do his fingers on your skin, his intense gaze seeming to melt as he absorbs your words. He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs, his voice tender, almost vulnerable. “Maybe I’ve been too harsh.” A hand rubs your side soothingly under the jersey, making its way up to massage your breast.

You smile softly, but just as you begin to feel a sense of relief, his grip on you tightens again, a bit painful on your breast. There’s a familiar, dangerous glint in his eyes. “But then again,” he whispers, “I can’t just ignore the way you look at them, baby. I can’t let that go with a few sweet words from those pretty lips of yours,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling softly before releasing it. “You like their attention, being desired by them. Just admit it.”

You hesitate, your mind torn between denial and the undeniable truth. Unable to look him in the eyes, you nod slowly. Your voice is barely a whisper when you speak. “I do…”

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, voice low and pensive. He presses you harder against the lockers, his hands roaming over you slowly, almost absently. “Enjoy it all you want, but don’t you dare let them think they have a chance. You know who I mean.”

Your heart races as you nod, whispering, “Eris.” It was obvious. 

Cassian frowns. “It wasn’t a question,” he snaps. “I let you play these pathetic little games of yours, but don’t think for a second that it’s an invitation to have another man’s name on your lips while I’m inside you.”

With a sharp, forceful movement, he thrusts into you, the suddenness making you cry out, the sound bouncing through the tiled room. “Do you understand?” he demands, and you nod again, vigorously this time, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the fullness. 

Without another word, he finally captures your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue gliding over yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. His hands slide down to your thighs, and he begins to move against you. There was nothing soft or caring about it, the motions unyielding and powerful. His hands grip you tightly as he fucks you into the cold metal of the lockers, his thrusts hard and deep. 

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is harsh and taunting. “To be fucked like this, right here where anyone could walk in? You think about this every time you see them, don’t you?” That’s when you remember that you are, in fact, in a place where anyone could find you like this. A blush rises to your cheeks at the realization, and you can tell he gets off on your embarrassment when he fails to suppress a smirk. You try grounding yourself by grabbing him wherever you can, hands out of his hair and grasping at his shoulders, nails digging in. “I know you like teasing them,” he continues, voice little more than a rumble. “Making them think they have a chance. They’ll never have you like this, (Y/N).”

His pace quickens, and he speaks into your neck. “Tarquin mentioned how you blush every time he catches you staring. What do you think about when you look at him, hm?” But you’re a mess, so lost in pleasure you can hardly process he’s asked you a question until he bites down on the crook of your neck. He doesn’t wait for your response, however, before he continues. “And Helion said you can’t keep your eyes off his arms. Is that what you want? You want his arms wrapped around you?” He changes his rhythm suddenly, now pulling out all the way to the tip before ramming back in. 

“Do you understand how fucking embarrassing it is,” he starts, voice cold, barely heard over your screams and moans, “to have my team—my friends—telling me how they catch you practically drooling at them, that you’d take them over me if you got the chance?” You shake your head adamantly at that. 

“No, Cass, you know that isn’t true!” You try to keep your voice even, to be taken seriously, but the lewd sounds in the air of him pounding your soaked, dripping cunt don’t do anything to help. It’s hard to continue when he leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive skin. “No one could fuck me as good as you do,” you breathe out, and you hope the moans cutting through your words are indication enough of it. “You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel like this,” you manage to say between gasps. “They mean nothing compared to you.”

He appears to consider your words and you think he might be convinced, but nothing changes. Other than, perhaps, the smirk on his lips. “You know what Azriel told me while he was leaving? He asked if I needed any help with you in here. Can you believe that, baby?” His thrusts grow even more intense. “He had the nerve to ask me if he could join in…” A scoff. “As if I’d let him touch you. As if I’d share you with anyone else.”

“Don’t want anyone else,” you murmur, eyes going unfocused from the overwhelming sensation of it all, but he speaks over you, seemingly not having heard you. Nevermind the thought that they all likely knew what would transpire in this room after they left. You hoped it was only Azriel, with how observant he was.

“I can’t blame him though, can’t really blame any of them. It’s not their fault you’re such a sneaky fucking tease. It’s a wonder they don’t feel entitled to you yet…”

His words sting, but they also go straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself clench around him. His possessiveness, his dominance — it’s intoxicating. You try to respond, but your breath is practically forced out of your lungs with a loud moan as his pace quickens again. 

“Look at you,” he continues, his voice dripping with anger and desire. “Barely able to form a sentence. Does it turn you on, knowing they all want you? Knowing that I’m the only one who gets to have you like this?”

You manage a shaky nod, and quip back. “I know it turns you on, how much you keep mentioning them.” It catches him off guard, your short moment of lucidity. For a brief second, he stills, eyes widening in surprise before narrowing again, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, you think you’re fucking clever,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re doing,” his nails dig into your skin as he thrusts into you, making you cry out, “and it won’t work.”

He shifts slightly, angling his hips to hit a spot inside you that makes you gasp in pleasure, hands scrambling for purchase on him, on the lockers, on yourself. The sound echoes through the locker room, mingling with the existing ones. 

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Cassian. Only yours, please!”

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone softening for just a moment before he resumes his relentless pace. “Again. Louder.”

“I’m yours!” you cry out desperately. “Only yours!” You find yourself wondering if there’s anyone left in the building, if they can hear you. You subsequently decide you don’t care. His eyes flicker down to the jersey number stretched across your chest, and a satisfied smirk forms across his lips. “Look at you, wearing my number,” his eyes are full of pride. 

You nod, lips parting with a moan. “Wanted to show everyone who I’m here for. I belong to you, Cassian.”

“Damn right, you do,” he mutters, his movements becoming more desperate than forceful. You know your boyfriend well enough to know he’s getting close. Each thrust, combined with that knowledge, sends waves of pleasure through your body. “I want to hear you, baby,” he demands, his voice strained with need. 

“Cassian!” you scream, your voice hoarse, broken by moans and cries. “Cassian, please!” 

His breath puffs against your neck as he groans your name in return. The sound of your combined moans and skin against skin echoes off the walls. And with a particularly powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, your cries mingling when he doesn’t stop. 

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper to him, running your hands through his hair soothingly, coaxing him through his orgasm. He shudders against you, his grip on you gradually loosening. For a moment, he rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily, his breath ragged. As the adrenaline rush fades, Cassian’s breathing slows, the intensity in his eyes softening. Slowly, he pulls out, leaving you feeling achingly empty.

But before you can protest, he lowers you to the ground, drops to his knees, and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder to rest your foot on the bench behind him. His hands slide down your thighs, feeling the mix of your arousal and his seed. “You didn’t think I’d leave you like this, did you?” he murmurs, voice filled with a renewed hunger. His mouth descends on you without warning, his tongue gliding over your sensitive flesh, tasting both of you. The sudden jolt of pleasure makes you gasp, your hands flying to his hair as he works you. 

Cassian looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he devours you. “You taste so fucking good,” he says against you, the vibrations against your clit drawing a moan from you. His tongue works with relentless precision, each flick and swirl drawing out gasps and moans from you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as he devours you. You can feel the roughness of his calloused fingers digging into your skin.

You clutch at his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands as you pull him closer. You rut your hips against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction. Every movement of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, your body responding to him with a need that borders on desperation. He knows exactly how to push you, bringing you close before pulling back, leaving you teetering on the brink of insanity. 

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination. “I want to hear you,” he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and tantalizing. “Say my name.”

“Cassian,” you moan, your voice trembling with the intensity of your need. “Please, don’t stop.”

He smirks, lips curving against you as he doubles his efforts. His tongue plunges deeper, his hands squeezing your thighs tighter as he pulls you even closer. You can feel the building pressure, the coil of pleasure tightening inside you, ready to snap. 

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Good fucking girl… Come for me.”

With those words and a final flick of his tongue, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, your cries echoing off the tiled walls as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Cassian doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your release until you’re a trembling, boneless mess in his arms.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips glistening with a mix of your juices and his satisfaction. You feel his warmth spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he rises to his feet. His eyes blaze with a dark, possessive fire as he takes in your thoroughly spent form. There’s no need for words; the look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

Remember this, his look seems to say. Remember what happened here. 

You meet his gaze, your own eyes still hazy with the aftermath of your climax. There’s no need for further declarations or reassurances; the intensity of what just transpired speaks for itself.

[st4rtar0t]

Random messages for you

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Picture 1

I see that some of you will literally be changing home this year or you may have live away from your parents for sometime. for others of you I see that you will be making a new addition to your home. ALSO you need to clean your doorstep, especially if you have a lot of shoes there. remove unwanted things from your home. You may face some kind of opposition in the upcoming days, spirit is telling you to stand your ground and DO NOT BACK DOWN. I see that some of you will be getting a lot of recognition this year. This will ignite a lot of intense emotions in other people for you, some will love you and some may hate you. Some of you are dealing with a two faced friend, yes that person that came into your mind right after you read this. They may have cat like features for some. Invest in high quality food. Do not joke around with your health. This year is good for you if you want to start something new. I see that you will be getting a lot of creative ideas. If you are planning to go somewhere try to wear red or include flowers in your outfit. Some of you may receive flowers form a friend or lover. your favourite ones. Take extra care of your hands these days.

Picture 2

Okay so for you I see that you need to be extra careful about everything. Its not the time for you to take risks and if you do take risks you may end up regretting in the future. I also see that some of you may even win a lottery of you may get some money from your elders as a gift. I see that you may get a chance to travel overseas this year. If you have been asking if you are on the right path, YOU ARE, I kept getting this message. I see that some of you are running from your problems, you need to understand that running away from your problems will only make them worse. You may get invited to some sort of celebration or party, do not even think about rejecting this offer, you will make a lot of connections from this event. You may face some kind of fraud especially if you own a small business so be careful of people darling. They don't always have the best intentions. You are also being encouraged to go on a trip with your friends or family. This months will be the moth for intense character development for you. A lot of new lessons will be learned. Also be extra careful around sharp objects.

Picture 3

I see that some of you will be receiving some kind of precious gift from somebody you love, this doesn't necessarily mean expensive gift, it may be a handmade gift. Fruits are going to be really significant this month, especially grapes. You will be rewarded for something you did a long time ago, this may be something you started in 2020. Some of you will be meeting someone really significant, may be some kind of partnership involved. Something or someone is restricting you from acknowledging your potential, this may be a habit, a person or some kind of obsession. Be careful of energy vampires around you. Learn to preserve things, learn sustainability, it will be helpful for you. If you are looking for something you lost, look into that white bag in your room. Your guides communicate through birds and nature, dove more specifically. Somebody who has a V in their name, born in July or an Aries will be asking you out. If you are single you are not going to be single for long, if you are already in a relationship things may get more passionate between you are your partner. Btw pay attention to your finances.

[tofics]

Almost Like You Need Someone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Song Inspo: Be Someone by Benson Boone

Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, with one exception: your character shines as bright as the sun, bringing light even into the darkest corners of every place you go. Dean's never seen anything like it. Before he knows it, he's become infatuated with you...

Word count: 2434 words

Warnings: mention of child death, other than that it's just fluff!

A/N: I came across the song that inspired this one shot yesterday and got to writing pretty much right away. I couldn't help but imagine what could have become of Dean if he'd had a constant source of happiness in his life and this one shot is what came out of that. Just pure fluff. I couldn't stop grinning while writing this 🤪 I integrated the song's lyrics here and there. I highly recommend listening to the song before/during reading. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🤭

Bobby introduced you to the boys, one lonesome duckling getting paired with two other lonesome ducklings. Together, the three of you take on the world as a flock. You’ve hunted together with Dean and Sam for quite some time now. Just one and a half years older than Sam, you’ve grown quite comfortable sandwiched between the two Winchester boys.

The work isn’t easy. More often than not, you return from a hunt covered in gore from head to toe. Blood, intestines, slime - you’ve been doused in it all, and then some. Despite the gruesome nature of your job, you have a way of keeping a light heart around it all. It’s physically challenging - but it keeps you fit. You have no permanent home - but you get to travel the country. You don’t get paid in dollars, but in the gratitude of the people you’ve saved. Whatever happens - you’ll find a way of putting a positive spin on it.

And it’s not just for show either. You’re a good-natured spirit through and through, bringing light and smiles to every room you set a foot into.

It’s one of the many things that have Dean completely puzzled and amazed at the same time. He's never seen anything like it. How someone who grew up in the hunter’s business could be as lighthearted as you are is beyond him, even though he knows your story. Your family has been hunting what goes bumping in the night for generations. It’s this expertise that has brought about your family’s devotion to a happy life: to fight the dark, you need to carry light in your heart. With two parents who doted on you any second they were not wrapped up in a hunt, you got raised in a world where there were monsters under your bed, but also parents by your side to teach you how to deal them. For each terror you fought, your parents would go out of their way to show you not one, but two instances of the good and beautiful in the world. They kept your scale balanced and ignited the spark that grew into the light you now carry within you, spreading it towards anyone you meet. And it’s infectious.

It starts slow. At first, it’s an easy smile that appears on Dean’s face anytime you enter the room without him even being aware of it. It grows wider when you give him a smile of your own, and you do, every day, without fail. He finds himself making jokes just to hear your laugh. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he wants to be the reason that the corners of your lips turn upwards, that he wants to be the one to put that spark in your eyes.

On long research nights at the library, he gets you coffee, making you giggle when he tells Sam to get his own with a wink at you. It’s disguised as silly banter between brother and brother, not clear favoritism for you.

You connect with victims and their families in your own, heartfelt way that reminds him of the way his mother used to tend to him when he was small. There’s kindness and softness in your voice and more often than not, you end up wiping tears of your face as you’re told about the people the families are grieving. He teases you about it but hopes you never stop.

A small voice appears in his head and questions him when he makes sure not to sit next to you every time you guys go out to eat a diner so as not to raise suspicion. ‘Suspicion of what?’ the small voice says, but he shoves it aside and tells it to shut it, the same way he tells Sammy to quit yapping when he’s going on his nerves.

He shares little about his past but answers honestly when you ask, just not in so many words. Part of him doesn’t like talking about it, even if it’s you. The other part of him wants you to do the talking. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He wants to know it all. Sam can share one of his literature findings and it goes into one ear and out the other, unless it’s case-related. You, on the other hand, get started on a ramble about the cinematography of a French movie you saw last night, and he finds himself intrigued with your analysis, despite never having cared for any French movie of any kind. Sam is happy to join the conversation, having seen the movie himself, and it’s the first time he gives Dean a look of suspicion. “Since when do you care about this stuff?” Dean grunts. “I don’t. It’s just that she makes it sound a LOT more interesting than you do.” He slaps his baby brother on the back of the head and that’s the end of that. For a while.

You share your time equally with the brothers, naturally flowing from one to the other as the situation sees fit. Never having been one to shy away from body contact, you’re often sprawled out over the two of them on the couches that are slightly too big for two and awkwardly too small for three in your motel rooms. A head leaning on Sam’s shoulder, one leg stretched out over Dean’s lap. Sleeping arrangements usually turn out in your favor, although you never ask to be treated with privilege. The boys insist: you get one side of the bed, always. A quick game of rock, paper, scissors determines who gets the other side and who gets the couch. The longer you three travel together, the more Dean hopes to beat the game, although he loses to Sam more often than he likes. The small voice becomes louder in those nights on the couch, when he’s tossing and turning and telling himself that the only reason he wants to be on one side of that bed is not because you’re on the other side of it, but because the cushions of the sofa are all worn out and uncomfortable and he’ll wake up with a stiff neck. Still, the small sting he feels when he wakes in the morning and sees you sprawled across the bed, your head nestled against Sam’s arm, is undeniable. “Wake up, you two love-birds,” he tends to say and throws a pillow at Sam’s face, never at you. Without fail, Sam throws the pillow back, paired with a grouchy “shut up” and an eye-roll. It makes you laugh, the way the two sometimes bicker like an old married couple. Dean wonders if Sam truly feels as nonchalant about it as he appears or if he enjoys the way you cuddle up to him at night. On the rare occasions that Dean does share the bed with you, you try to keep on your side of the bed after you noticed him stiffen up when you rolled up against him. He often thinks about telling you that you don't have to do that, that you can cuddle up to him in bed the same way you do on the couch, but he doesn't know how without it sounding awkward.

One day, your trio gets a particularly rough case. This time, there's a child among the victims. He sees the family's grief rip into you and bury its claws deep, fueled by your empathy that he's come to see as a strength, rather than a weakness. It takes you longer to recover than it normally does. Despite killing the responsible monster and setting an end to its killing spree, the light that usually shines so bright within you remains dim. Both Sam and Dean feel the affect the child's death has had on you.

Sam, ever the more capable one when it comes to feelings, asks if you want to talk about it. And although it's not Dean's field of expertise, he listens intently. He wants to know about your pain, even if he doesn't know how to take it from you. He lets Sam do most the talking but keeps looking at you through the rearview mirror. That's when he sees it for the first time, the smallest look from behind your eyes when yours meet his - that this is a moment where you need someone to be the light. That night, he gets on Sam's laptop and does some research of his own.

The next day, him and Sam are arguing about the best possible route towards their next stop. On other days, you would intervene, but you remain silent and look out the window, leaving him and Sam to figure it out on their own. Sam is convinced the direction Dean wants to go is a detour, but Dean insists it's the correct way. Half an hour later, the three of you drive through a town's main street when you suddenly come to live in the backseat: you've spotted a pet shop, its window full with a litter of puppies climbing over themselves. You turn to Dean in the driver's seat and ask if you can make a quick stop here. Already, there's a stronger glow in your eyes than there was a moment ago. "Sure, why not," he replies. "I could use a bit of a stretch for my legs."

When you step out to go see the puppies, Sam looks at him with a knowing smile. "That was nice of you." - "I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean gets out of the care and stretches his legs, but Sam is quick to follow him. "Dude." He rests his arms Baby's roof and watches Dean stalk around the car. "You never take driving breaks except to take a piss. I've never once seen you 'stretch your legs' before." He puts his hands in the air, miming air-quotes. "So what? I'm sore from the hunt. Son of a bitch had me sprinting." Dean shrugs and leans against the hood of the car, apparently all done with his mini-workout. Sam just smiles that knowing smile again. "Sure. Whatever you say." A couple of minutes later, you return to the car. Your light is not back to full capacity quite yet, but there's color in your cheeks and crinkles by your eyes, leftover from the smile that's still lingering on your lips. "How was it?" Sam asks when you sit down on the backseat. You lean forward and grip the edges of their seat. "So. Many. Puppies," you say in a breathy voice. "Cuteness overload. I think I died and went to heaven for a moment there." Both the brothers chuckle and you settle into your seat while Dean gets Baby back on the road. Sam glances in the rearview mirror and sees you have resumed your position at the window, but you seem more light-weighted than you did just a few minutes ago. Another glance at his big brother and he smiles to himself. Bringing the smile count in the car to three, Dean is wearing his satisfied smile proudly.

From there on, Sam subtly removes himself from your trio now and then. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor they think could help them. During another late night at yet another library, he purposely sits diagonally from you, leaving the chair opposite and next to you open. He offers to get dinner, leaving you and Dean at the motel room the three of you have booked for the night.

Dean doesn't notice. He's too busy finding the balance between what he wants and what he thinks is appropriate. What he wants is you, to be near you, all the time. The light in you is addicting. It's such a stark contrast to everything he's known for most of his life. When his mother passed, the darkness that took over John and consumed him also infected Dean. He did his best to shield his baby brother from it, and sometimes, when he looks at Sam, he can see that his efforts weren't in vain. The youngest Winchester has an optimism about him that Dean never found himself. He's happy for his brother. It's never crossed his mind than in the process of protecting Sam, he never took care of himself. His own twilight never seemed so troublesome, he got used to it after all and eventually knew his way around, the way you can walk through your own house in the pitch-black of night and not knock into anything because you know where everything is placed. He didn't need to light a match or even a candle, it was always just bright enough to make out the outline of the furniture. That is, until he met you, and you shone so bright that, for a brief moment, his insights got illuminated, like the headlights of a passing car briefly dancing across a room at night, and suddenly, the furniture turned from grey to color.

And now he needs more. He didn't know how intoxicating a person could be, until he met you. Suddenly, a lit match isn't enough, neither is a candle. He needs your floodlights, the way a ship needs a beacon. He's drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

And sure, he could live without you. He's lived in the semi-darkness for so long and it's familiar, but now he's seen color, and fuck, he wants it.

But more than that, he wants to be someone for you. He sees what you do for the world and wants to give it back to you, doubled, tripled, quadroupled. He wants to be your someone to have, someone to hold, your somewhere to go when nights get cold. He wants to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

However, wanting one thing and doing it can be two different things at opposite ends of the spectrum. The more he's drawn to you, the less he finds the words to tell you so. 'What if's cross his mind. What if you don't feel the same? What if, by admitting how he feels, he ruins what you guys have? It keeps him up at night while he wishes that he was the reason to keep you up.

It doesn't seem so hopeless, though. From time to time, you give him the smallest look from behind your eyes, and it's almost like you need someone. And every single time, without fail, he thinks that he could be that someone.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find part 2 here! - Masterlist

[lurvly-malice]

"What are you doing to me?"

Pairing: Harvey x GN!Farmer

Summary: Just Harvey being smitten for the farmer whose always occupying his clinic, and mind

A/N: just a fluffly drabble, because Harvey's been dominating my mind lately and I'm bored lol

With each reckless adventure you pursued, you returned to his clinics doorstep with a collection of scratches, bruises, and cuts, and of course, the innocent smile that adorned your face - the sight would be the death of him.

 And each time, he would usher you into the clinic in alarm, he was beginning to suspect you did this on purpose, with the proud look in your eyes that suggested you had him right where you wanted as he doted on you.

'It’s only been a week, really, you would think you’d take more care of yourself by now' he often said under his breath, his voice trembling with nervousness.

You would chuckle, laughter so infectious, brushing off your injuries as normal relics of your adventures. 'Just a few bumps and bruises…nothing you haven't seen before.' you retort, alluding to your countless visits for this sort of thing. 

Harvey's lips would twitch into a wry smile as he guided you to the examination table. Your adventurous spirit both fascinated and alarmed him. It was foreign to him, and couldn't fathom how willingly you’d over exert yourself in those darn mines, stirring within him a whirlwind of emotions.

As he applied bandages and ointments, his hands couldn't help but tremble. The sight of your injuries, no matter how trivial, sent his heart into a frenzy. As a doctor, he'd seen such it all, and yet even the sight of a purple bruise on your soft skin made him want to faint. Each touch of your skin ignited a spark he could neither ignore nor deny, no matter how much practice he’d had treating patients every day. He'd learnt his lesson by now - you weren't a regular patient.

‘I really do wish you’d be more careful,' he would murmur, his fingers tracing over a shallow cut on your arm. 'You... you're hurt too often.'

And then you would respond with a comment like ‘but you’ll take good care of me, right?’, casually sending the poor man’s heart into a tailspin, because of course he would, always.

‘I-I’m serious, you know-’ he sighed, trying so hard to sound annoyed, but he wasn't, his concern evident in his shaky words, ‘I care about you’ he managed, avoiding eye contact with you under the pretence of focusing on your present injury.

But of course, like always, you didn't take him very seriously, and just leaned in a little, eyes twinkling.  ‘I care about you too, Harvey’ which had his head snapping up, wide eyes meeting your amused ones, unable to mask his flustered expression - what was he going to do with you?

Harvey's breath caught in his throat. Your words had always elicited such a potent reaction, but this time, it felt different. The weight of his own unspoken feelings pressed down on him.

Your visits had become a sweet torment for Harvey. How sweet you looked, scratched up arm extended offering him a gift - always his favourites, which you somehow had memorised to a tee, ignoring the pain you felt just to see him flustered as he accepted them.

Harvey's constant worry over your well-being extended to himself. The mere thought of seeing you sent his temperature soaring and his pulse racing. The symptoms he experienced—sweaty palms, flushed cheeks, and a pounding heart—often led him to question his own health.

'Oh dear, I must be coming down with something,' he would mutter to himself, his stethoscope barely grazing his chest in a futile attempt to make sense of his frazzled state.

What were you doing to him?

[seoulzie]

through thick & thin

WHEREIN: beomgyu & reader discover their unspoken love ultimately realizing they have always been each other's true love.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x reader 彡 genre: fluff, lil angst 彡 warnings: jealous gyu & p1h's jiung makes a cameo ㅋㅋ

₊˚ ✩ 🌊 read the whole collection here!

you and beomgyu were practically born into each other's lives. your parents were best friends, and as a result, the two of you were more like siblings than mere friends. from your first steps to your first words, beomgyu was always there, his presence as natural as breathing.

beomgyu’s house was practically a second home to you, and vice versa. childhood was a whirlwind of shared toys, impromptu sleepovers, and adventures in your backyards.

in elementary school, your bond became a spectacle for teachers and students alike. beomgyu would leave his pencils at your table after breaks, and you would often forget your toys at his. you were inseparable. teachers would find you leaning on each other during nap times, sharing snacks at recess, and laughing the loudest in class.

high school brought subtle changes. the awkwardness of puberty and the chaos of teenage years couldn’t shake your bond. you still spent countless hours on the phone, your conversations flowing seamlessly into the night until one of them fell asleep mid-sentence. on weekends, you visited your childhood playgrounds even if that means you’re the oldest ones there, reliving memories and swinging on the old swings that now seemed smaller. 

one rainy afternoon, you found yourselves in beomgyu’s attic, rummaging through boxes of childhood memorabilia. you unearthed a dusty board game you used to play.

“remember how competitive we used to get?” you laughed, brushing off the dust.

beomgyu grinned. “used to? i’m still the reigning champion.”

you rolled her eyes playfully. “oh, please. the only reason you ever won was because you cheated.”

“cheated?!” beomgyu scoffed, feigning offense. “i won fair and square. you were just a sore loser.”

you smirked, leaning closer. “how about a rematch then? i bet you can’t handle my skills now.”

beomgyu chuckled, his spirit igniting. “you’re on. prepare to lose.”

you set up the game on the attic floor, the rain tapping a gentle rhythm on the roof. the game started with playful banter and exaggerated expressions of concentration.

“are you sure you want to move there?” beomgyu asked, his eyes narrowing.

“absolutely,” you replied confidently. “it’s called strategy, something you might want to learn.”

beomgyu laughed, shaking his head. “we’ll see about that.”

the game ended in a tie as you collapsed onto the floor, laughing until your stomachs hurt

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

as you were walking down the bustling hallway of your high school, you casually mentioned something that made beomgyu's heart stop.

“can you believe jiung asked me out? i didn’t see that one coming,” you said, your voice light and amused.

beomgyu stopped in his tracks, a frown tugging at his lips. “jiung’s a prat. you can do better than him; i’m really questioning your taste here.”

you rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “oh, come on. he’s not that bad. i said yes already.”

“you can—what?” beomgyu's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling. “you actually said yes to going out with him?”

you shrugged, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. “yeah, i did. how come you’re so surprised?”

beomgyu struggled to find the right words, his emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. “i just... i don’t get it. you could do so much better than him.”

you chuckled, teasingly. “what? someone better like you?”

beomgyu felt his heart skip a beat at your words, a rush of hope flooding through him. but he quickly played it aside with a nervous laugh. “oh, come on, you. you know what i mean.”

you raised an eyebrow, your teasing demeanor softening. “do i?”

beomgyu’s heart ached at your words, but he forced himself to smile, the expression not reaching his eyes. “whatever, it’s nothing. i’ve got to get to my next class.”

before you could respond, beomgyu turned on his heel and walked away, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and pain. 

the tension between beomgyu and you in the following days was palpable, each interaction tinged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. you tried to give beomgyu space, but every passing moment felt like an eternity.

you saw him in the hallways, your eyes meeting briefly before he looked away. he responded politely when you greeted him, but there was a distance in his voice that echoed, it hurt to see him like this, to know that something had shifted between you and you didn't know why.

in those days, you gradually got closer to jiung, finding comfort in his company as you bonded, his easy-going nature and infectious laughter were a welcome distraction from the growing tension with beomgyu. 

however, despite enjoying your time, everything he did almost reminded you of beomgyu. his laugh, his smile, even the way he listened with genuine interest all brought beomgyu to mind. though you were with jiung physically, your mind constantly drifted back to beomgyu, the ache in your heart growing with each passing day.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

it was a cool evening, the playground bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights. you walked slowly, lost in thought after your date with jiung. passing by the playground was a shortcut to your house, a place that held countless memories with beomgyu.

as you approached, you noticed a figure sitting on one of the swings, head bowed, lost in contemplation. it was beomgyu, his silhouette familiar yet different in the dim light. you hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach him or continue on your way.

beomgyu sensed your presence and looked up, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. “hey,” he greeted softly, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

you stopped in front of him, your expression cautious. “hey. what are you doing here?”

beomgyu shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “just thinking.”

you stood in silence for a moment, the rustling leaves and distant sounds of the city filling the space between you. you took a deep breath, about to address the tension that had been building,

"we need to talk," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know."

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was about to come. "beomgyu, why have you been avoiding me?"

beomgyu shifted on the swing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "it's... it's nothing about you," he began, his voice slightly strained. "i'm fine, really."

you frowned, not buying his attempt to brush it off. "beomgyu, you've barely talked to me in days. we used to talk about everything. what do you mean it's nothing?"

beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "i guess... i guess i just needed some time to sort things out in my head," he admitted reluctantly. 

you waited, sensing there was more he wasn't saying. the silence stretched between them until beomgyu finally spoke again, his voice hesitant. "seeing you with him... it's been difficult for me."

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "difficult how?" you asked, your tone cautious.

beomgyu looked up, meeting your gaze with a mix of regret and longing. "i... i don't like seeing you with someone else," he confessed quietly. "especially when it's someone like jiung."

you's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed slightly in frustration. "what do you mean, 'someone like jiung?" you asked, your voice tinged with irritation.

beomgyu's expression darkened, and he couldn't hold back anymore. "i hate how he has everything i have, yet you choose him," he spat out, his voice seething with jealousy.

you shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “why does it even matter to you? you’re not dating me!”

“you think i don’t know that?” beomgyu shot back, his voice rising slightly. 

“so then, whats your problem!?” 

beomgyu gathered his thoughts, “my problem is that i’m in love with you!” he blurted out, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“but I’m a coward, and you’re oblivious,” beomgyu continued, “watching you go out with jiung made me realize that i’d be spending the rest of my life watching you date, marry, and have a family with someone else. it tore me apart inside, knowing that i was losing you without ever really having the chance to tell you how i feel.”

beomgyu’s voice wavered, the pain and desperation clear in his words. “i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with just being your friend when i want so much more. i want to be the one who makes you laugh, who holds you when you cry, who shares every moment of your life. but i’m terrified that if i tell you the truth, i’ll lose you completely.”

for a moment, you stood there, absorbing his words, your heart pounding in your chest. the air was thick with unspoken emotions, and you could feel the weight of his confession pressing down on you. without saying a word, you stepped closer to him, your eyes locked onto his. slowly, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your touch gentle and reassuring.

then, before either of you could second-guess the moment, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. the kiss was soft and tentative at first, a question more than a statement, but it quickly deepened as beomgyu responded, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, timeless moment.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. beomgyu’s eyes were wide with surprise and a glimmer of hope.

"beomgyu..." you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "i think I’ve always known too," you admitted softly. "i just didn’t know how to say it."

you smiled through your tears. "it’s always been you, beomgyu."

the realization hit beomgyu, and his face lit up with pure joy. he pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with passion and relief. as the kiss broke, he couldn't contain his excitement and spun you around, just like in the movies. you both laughed, the tension and heartache melting away, replaced by the warmth of newfound love.

in that moment, everything felt right.the playground, once a place of childhood memories, had now become the backdrop for the beginning of your love story.

⋆˚࿔ taglist!�� @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @vicurious28

© 2024 seoulzie 

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Blue Skies and Green Eyes (Jake Seresin x Reader)

A/N: so I decided to just write an air show meet cute for Jake, Bradley and Bob because, even with a poll, how could I ever choose? So, here's the first of three, I guess? 😅

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: pure fluff, air show inaccuracies because the last time I went to one I was 9, and it was in a cornfield, reader has a named niece and nephew, no physical description of reader given other than an allusion to them being tall.

word count: 2.1k

On the sun-soaked beach, your niece and nephew climbed over one another eagerly on the blanket you had carefully arranged, vying for the best spot to witness the spectacle unfolding overhead. The air show, a cherished tradition passed down from your father to you and your brother, had become an annual pilgrimage for your family. Determined to keep the legacy alive, you eagerly took charge of the tradition when your brother couldn't make it to your nephew's first air show.

For the past seven years, this had been your unique tradition with them. As the jets roared to life in the sky, the kids engaged in a lively dispute, each competing for an unobstructed view of the aerial acrobatics. Your brow furrowed as their bickering escalated, prompting an eye roll from you. Seizing the opportunity to diffuse the tension, you chuckled and settled between them, effectively creating a barrier that halted their squabble.

“Hey!” They both protested, shaking their heads in dismay.

“If it's the only way to prevent a full-blown war between you two, then I'm planting myself right here,” you declared with a playful smirk.

Mia, your spirited niece, responded with a pout and crossed arms, while Aiden, her older brother, countered by sticking his tongue out at her, a mischievous grin adorning his face as he comfortably claimed his spot beside you.

“Aiden,” you warned, catching his silent final shot at his sister out of the corner of your eye.

“Sorry.”

A warm smile adorned your face as you, along with the children, gazed skyward, captivated by the mesmerizing display of aircraft maneuvering through a series of intricate twists, turns, and loops. Aiden erupted in cheers and enthusiastic whistles, his excitement bubbling over as a FA-18 Super Hornet executed a flawless barrel roll high above. Engrossed in the spectacle, he fervently waved at the aircraft above him, a hopeful gesture that the pilot might catch a glimpse and reciprocate in some way. Beside him, Mia eagerly pointed upward, her eyes widening in sheer wonder as the plane effortlessly navigated a knife-edge flight, leaving her with an awestruck expression that mirrored the spectacle unfolding before her.

As the airshow continued, the sky became a canvas for more daring aerobatics. Another set of aircraft roared onto the scene, executing synchronized maneuvers that left trails of smoke swirling against the azure backdrop. Aiden and Mia's attention darted from one spectacle to another, their faces alive with awe and exhilaration. You couldn't help but share in their enthusiasm, reveling in the joy of witnessing these aerial feats with the same awestruck gaze you had as a child yourself, completely fascinated by the skill executed in every move. 

Suddenly, a squadron of jets soared in tight formation, their wings almost touching as they painted the sky with precision. The deafening roar of engines filled the air as the pilots skillfully executed a breathtaking sequence of loops and rolls, creating a symphony of motion that left the onlookers breathless. 

Aiden, his eyes glued to the spectacle, whispered in amazement, "I want to be a pilot one day, just like them!" 

Mia, equally captivated, nodded in agreement, her imagination ignited by the incredible display unfolding above. 

“Do you think we could meet them?!” Aiden asked excitedly as he turned his attention to you.

“I don’t know, honey, they’re probably really busy,” you explained with a nod of your head, knowing that the chances were unlikely to be in your favour.

“Can we try?! Please?” 

You looked at Aiden’s pleading face, and then to his sister, who had decided to match his facial expressions, their innocent faces making nearly impossible for you to say no to. 

“Fine, we can try. But I’m not making any promises, guys. You know, they’re really busy, and they’re actual military pilots, they’ve got lots of stuff to do.”

The children both cheered the moment you agreed to their request, and you could tell that the last portion of your reply was falling on deaf ears. You huffed a mock dramatic sigh as you squeezed both of them into a tight hug, laughing softly. 

After the airshow had concluded, all Mia and Aiden could talk about was how you were taking them to try and meet some of the pilots. You felt an anxious knot in the pit of your stomach, nervous that you’d be unable to fulfill their wish. Holding both of the children’s hands, you approached the airfield fence where the pilots could be seen chatting after the show, their planes merely feet away from where you stood. A group of pilots who appeared to be in their early to late 30s stood together, laughing cordially as they spoke. One of the pilots, a tall blonde with an air of pure, unbridled confidence to his stance took notice of you as you stood with Mia and Aiden. He waved his hand to say hello, and Aiden practically squealed in excitement, jumping up and down on the spot.

The blonde pilot raised his hand to his colleagues, appearing to excuse himself for a moment. Suddenly, you noticed Aiden’s attention turn to the side. You and Mia followed his gaze, noticing that the blonde pilot was now on your side of the fence that separated the three of you from the military aircraft in the field. 

“Hi, did y’all enjoy the airshow?” The aviator asked, flashing a charming smile at you as he lifted his sunglasses to rest on top of his perfectly coiffed hair.

Aiden nodded his head in a stunned silence, starstruck by the man standing before him. The allure of the charismatic Navy pilot was undeniable. His tall, athletic frame exuded confidence, and his sun-kissed skin bore witness to countless hours spent in the cockpit under the Californian sun. Those stunning pale green eyes seemed to hold the vastness of the sky, hinting at the adventures he'd encountered soaring through the clouds. Jake's charming smile had a magnetic quality, drawing you in with its warmth and openness. The subtle southern drawl in his voice added an extra layer of appeal, creating a melody that resonated with the thrill of the airshow and the laid-back atmosphere of the beach.

“We did,” you said after a moment’s hesitation, trying to not appear like a lovestruck teenager as your eyes briefly met with his.

The pilot knelt down to Aiden and Mia’s level, smiling at them both with the same charming grin he gave you a moment ago.

“Do you kids like planes?” 

“I do!” Aiden and Mia both responded in unison. 

“That’s awesome to hear! My name is Jake, I fly planes for the US Navy, see that one there?” He beamed proudly as he gestured towards one of the grey aircraft parked in the distance, “That’s my plane. All of our planes have our names on them so we know who’s is who’s, and our callsigns, so we can just use one word to talk to each other on the radio.”

“What’s your callsign?” Aiden asked, tilting his head as he looked at Jake.

“Hangman. Like the game, where you have to guess letters to find out what the secret word is, do you know that one?”

Aiden nodded his head and grinned. You couldn’t help but admire how patient and friendly Jake was towards Aiden and Mia, taking care to answer their eager questions with thorough answers and explanations, leaving nothing unanswered.  As he spoke passionately about his experiences as a Top Gun graduate stationed at Miramar, you couldn't help but be captivated by the combination of his professionalism, adventurous spirit, and undeniable charm.

“Do you have a rank?” Aiden quizzed, tilting his head.

“Of course! Lieutenant Jake Seresin, US Navy,” Jake grinned, “And what’s your name, little guy?”

“I’m Aiden, and this is my sister, Mia,” Aiden explained, before introducing you as somewhat of an afterthought due to his excitement.

Jake looked up at you, a genuine smile forming on his lips. His green eyes stayed on you, and you could feel a sense of curiosity in his gaze. He turned his attention back to your niece and nephew, his hand resting on his knee as he looked at them both.

“Nice to meet y’all! Maybe, if your aunt says it’s ok, you guys could come back here one weekend, and I could give y’all a tour of the planes, let you meet some other pilots? Sound fun?”

Jake's offer had your niece and nephew practically buzzing with excitement. Their pleading eyes and enthusiastic pleas tugged at your heartstrings, mirroring the eagerness that now danced in your own eyes. You exchanged a glance with Jake, whose genuine smile hinted at an underlying warmth. 

"Well, Lieutenant Seresin," you responded with a playful grin, "it seems like you've just won yourself two eager co-pilots for that future tour of yours."

The prospect of spending more time with Jake and experiencing the world of naval aviation up close had ignited a spark of anticipation within you. As he continued to chat with Aiden and Mia, effortlessly captivating them with tales of high-flying adventures, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in his demeanor. The beach, once a stage for the breathtaking airshow, now held the promise of more extraordinary moments to come. 

With a subtle twinkle in his pale green eyes, he stood up and straightened his posture to his full height, easily taller than you by more than a few inches. He turned his attention back to you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

"You know," he began, his pale green eyes locking onto yours, "meeting someone as captivating as you wasn't part of the airshow program today. Consider me pleasantly surprised."

A warm flush crept across your cheeks as you chuckled at his smooth remark. Jake continued, his voice carrying the lilt of his unmistakable southern drawl, "I was thinking, maybe when I'm not up in the skies, we could grab a coffee or a drink. Talk about something other than planes and maneuvers, you know?"

The subtle invitation hung in the air, and you found yourself nodding, unable to suppress a growing smile. 

"I'd like that," you replied, your eyes meeting his with a shared sense of anticipation.

“How about you share your number with me? That way, we can figure out when to meet up again. And it saves you from having to try and track me down on a Naval base."

Feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation, you retrieved your phone, fingers tapping out the digits as you exchanged contact information. Jake reciprocated, a grin playing on his lips as he entered your number into his phone. The exchange felt like a subtle promise, a digital tether that connected two individuals eager to navigate beyond the boundaries of the beach encounter.

With phones back in pockets, there was a shared acknowledgment that this exchange wasn't just about convenience but a mutual interest in seeing where this connection could lead. As the warm sunlight cascaded down over you, your niece and nephew’s muffled giggles and whispers in the air, and the promise of future messages and potential meetings lingering, it left you both with a sense of excitement for what lay ahead.

"Well, it looks like it's time for me and these two little aviators to head out," you remarked with a playful glint in your eyes. 

The prospect of saying goodbye brought a hint of reluctance to the moment. With a gentle nudge, you encouraged Mia and Aiden to express their gratitude. 

"Come on, you two," you said with a smile, "let's thank Lieutenant Seresin for the amazing day." The kids, still brimming with excitement, turned to Jake, expressions eager.

With genuine appreciation in their voices, Mia and Aiden chorused their thanks.

 "Thank you, Lieutenant Seresin!"

Jake chuckled warmly, crouching down to their eye level. "Y’all can just call me Jake, you know. No need for all the formality, I’m only Lieutenant Seresin if my CO is around." He winked at them, his easygoing nature resonating with their youthful enthusiasm.

As the kids bid their farewells, Jake turned to you, his gaze holding a hint of something more. "Until next time, I suppose," he said, his tone carrying a mix of sincerity and anticipation.

You smiled, reciprocating the sentiment. "Absolutely. Until next time, Jake." 

With a final exchange of glances and well wishes, you, Mia, and Aiden left the beach, the echoes of the airshow and the promising connection with Jake lingering in the warm California breeze. Armed with plans to coordinate with the kids' parents for a tour with Jake, and plans to schedule a date with him, you hoped this encounter marked the beginning of a connection that extended beyond the sandy shores of Coronado Beach.

[bellaveux]

more fuckgirl!wanda x reader , can we have wanda show her protective dom side

OFF LIMITS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda hates the way everyone is ogling at you, and makes sure to remind everyone that you are, very much, off limits.

content warnings: minors dni please. college au!, fuckgirl!sorority president!wanda, dom!wanda, jealousy, possessiveness, bottom!reader, smut! – mirror sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, fingering, marking/hickeys

word count: 3.28k

note. writing feels kinda all over the place am sorry,, i went both protective and possessive (they sometimes confuse me while writing loool) but i hope u enjoy it and ty for request!

Wanda was both a woman of contradictions and a force to be reckoned with. On one hand, she was a disciplined and hard-working leader, respected by her peers and admired for her dedication to the sorority. On the other, she was a party animal, a woman who loved nothing more than to let loose, have a good time, and charm women left and right. No doubt was she popular, with everyone from the freshmen to the seniors looking up to her as a role model. Her energy was infectious, and her spirit was unstoppable, as she flitted from one party to another, always with a smile on her face and a drink in her hand.

And her game was undoubtedly unmatched. With the tiniest twinkle in her eye and a sultry smile on her lips, Wanda could make even the most stoic person melt with desire. She was the object of desire for many who crossed her path, making her popularity with everyone on campus legendary, people drawn to her like a magnet. Enjoying the game of love, teasing and tempting those around her, she loved the attention, and always knew how to charm and seduce with ease. Her flirtatious nature was a part of her, an extension of her personality, and it was something that she enjoyed using to her advantage. It was a game that she played with finesse and skill, a dance of words and gestures that left those around her breathless and wanting more.

But while others voluntarily gave her attention, there was only one person she wanted, and that was you.

You and Wanda always had an undeniable attraction towards each other, a magnetic force that seemed to draw you together, no matter how hard you tried to resist. There was a tension between you two, a spark that ignited every time you were in the same room, eyes locking, and bodies leaning in closer. It was as if you shared a secret language, a hidden connection that only you and her could understand, and that seemed to grow stronger with every passing day. And yet, despite your chemistry, you were not together, and it seemed as if you would never be. Much to Wanda’s disappointment, you have always rejected her pursuits and advances. Unlike her, you valued the time you spend with another person, wanting more than to be a fling. You wanted love from someone who adored you, someone who made you feel special, and initially, you didn’t think Wanda could be that person.

Wanda stood at the edge of the crowded sorority party, drink in her hand, eyes fixed on you. The room was alive with music and chatter, but for Wanda, it all faded away into the background as she watched as you entered the room, greeting everyone who came up to you with such gracefulness. Wanda always knew you liked to look good, but God, why did you have to wear something as sexy as that? The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the skin on your back completely exposed for everyone to see. Wanda was entranced, her heart beating faster as she felt the pull of attraction towards you. She tried to look away, to focus on something else, maybe on the girls who were already talking to her, but no one could compete with you, the woman who had captured her attention completely, dependably each and every time. Wanda couldn't help but admire the way you moved in that dress, with a grace and poise that seemed effortless. And as your eyes met across the crowded room, Wanda felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body just right before you smirked and turned away from her, returning to your friends.

And so, she watched you all night, unable to focus on the rest of the people around her, who wanted her attention. She was too captivated by you, like she was under a spell, and couldn’t do anything else but stare.

Soon, she noticed that she wasn’t the only one who saw you. Of course, she wasn’t. Everywhere you walked, between the sea of people, heads turned and eyes followed, as the other people in the party looked on in awe and admiration. Your beauty was almost surreal, a dream-like quality that made you seem like you were from another world entirely. You, like her, were popular in the way that everyone on campus wanted to be with, but no one could quite capture. And Wanda wanted to have the honor.

She watched as all sorts of people came up to you, asking to dance, for your number, and introducing themselves like they even had a chance. As the seconds passed, Wanda’s jealousy grew. You would throw that pretty smile of yours their way as you politely rejected them. Some of them would even become quite touchy with you, and Wanda hated being the one to watch on the sidelines. She wanted everyone to back off, tell everyone that you were hers, a territory no one shall trespass.

And when you allowed a bubbly freshman, dressed in an all black suit, named Kate, to stay a little longer than Wanda would’ve liked, touching you softly down your back as you spoke and drank from the cup she had gotten you, Wanda decided to take action.

“Don’t touch her,” Wanda said firmly as she stood closely behind you, watching the younger woman immediately pull her hand back off of you.

“Wanda,” you warned, glancing up at her, cautiously eyeing her with your sly eyes for her next move.

Kate watched the interaction carefully, seemingly finding it hard to butt in under the sudden tension that Wanda had brought along with her, “S-Sorry… Hi, I’m Kate.”

Wanda said nothing, and instead, she threw a tiny, bitter smile at her before turning back to you, her hand slowly creeping up your waist. You did little to stop her touch, and if anything, you found yourself leaning closer. It never surprised you how good Wanda was at being territorial and overprotective she was when it came to you, and under your facade, you found it attractive.

“Do you think I could steal you away for just a second?” Wanda whispered into your ear, but loud enough for Kate to catch.

You put your cup down against the counter of the bar and smiled artfully, shaking your head at her, “Uh, actually, Kate and I were having a conversation here, so I really don’t think you can.”

Wanda hummed in annoyance, taking a moment to glare at you as you turned back to the other woman. She felt a pang of jealousy in her chest, watching you and this Kate interact as if she wasn’t even there, and she wanted nothing more than to drag you away from her and all the lingering eyes that were currently still on you. At this point, her blood boiled at every little thing everyone did around you.

“Kate,” Wanda tried again, more firmly this time, as if steam was coming from her ears, face almost red with anger. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, no— of course,” she laughed awkwardly, backing up as slowly as if she had just angered a lion.

And so, Kate left, much to Wanda’s satisfaction, but it did much to fuel your irritation towards Wanda’s actions. And right when she left, another person came up, as if they were in line to talk to you, but instead, Wanda shot them a deathly glare, and they immediately backed off.

You sighed and turned towards the counter, rubbing your temples without even looking at her, “What is wrong with you?”

“I just did you a favor,” Wanda scoffed and folded her arms as you moved away from her. “She wouldn’t be enough to satisfy you, (y/n).”

“Why is sex the only thing on your mind, Wanda? I was just talking to her. Like a normal person,” you tell her, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, come on, you and I both know what she was doing,” she said. “She was all over you.”

She couldn't help but feel possessive over you, and the thought of anyone else touching you or even flirting with you was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach.

And finally, you turned to her and smirked, your chin in the palm of your hands as you looked up at her through your eyelashes, “Mm, and why is that so important to you?”

“You know why.”

You, in fact, did know why. After all the times Wanda has chased after you, trying desperately to get you to accept her advances, you never did, not wanting to be a part of her seemingly long list of women that she played with. No, initially, you decided you’d do the playing, teasing her without any further intentions afterwards, and it only made her want you more. But at this point, you longed for Wanda’s touch, despite how infuriating she can be at times. The undeniable attraction you had towards each other tied you together, and Wanda only wanted you all to herself.

You shook your head once more and stepped forward, bringing your hand up to flatten out her collar neatly, “It’s kinda cute when you’re jealous.”

Wanda said nothing to deny that and instead, she clenched her jaw while savoring your touch, feeling the tips of your fingers graze her neck softly.

She stood close, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to keep her cool. But you were teasing her with the way you stepped forward, looking up at her with those pretty eyes in a way that made Wanda's frustration grow with each passing moment. It was maddening, the way you played with her, toying with her emotions. Wanda felt a surge of anger rising within her, a fire that threatened to consume her if she didn't do something about it. She tried to maintain her composure, to keep a cool head, but it was no use. Everything you did and said was like a knife, cutting deep into Wanda's heart and making her ache with desire.

Ultimately, unable to take it any longer, she grabbed your wrist and dragged away from the bar, away from every single person who eyed you, through the crowd and into the hallways where she pulled you into one of the many bathrooms in the whole building.

Wanda wrapped her arms around your waist, her front pressed up against your back, holding you close with her lips barely grazing the skin of your neck and her hands running down the sides of your dress. This damn dress. The way it clung to the curves of your body, the fabric draped in such a way that showcased your back, revealing just enough to keep her wanting more. The sight of your bare skin was tantalizing, and Wanda felt a flutter in her chest as she pressed up against you.

“I don’t like the way they keep staring at you,” Wanda confessed as you watched her slowly pepper soft kisses down your neck to your shoulder through the reflection of the mirror.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, reveling in the softness of her lips against your skin, “What are you going to do about it?”

And you felt it — a smirk against your shoulder, making you realize what you had suddenly gotten yourself into. Wanda squeezed your hips with her hands, proudly looking at you through the mirror as if she were savoring the moment she now had you all to herself, in her arms, in her hands.

“I’m gonna remind them that you’re off limits.”

Surprisingly, Wanda was being so gentle, kissing and sucking at your skin softly, marking you, littering plenty of hickeys down your neck and shoulder, and you watched her do it in the mirror. You watched when one of her hands would travel up from your waist to wrap her palm around the swell of your breasts, fondling them eagerly, making you hum a moan in satisfaction. Her other hand found its way down to your thighs, moving slowly under your dress. You couldn’t help but watch again, the sight in the mirror almost making your knees give out, as Wanda moved the hand that was on your breast down to the hem of your dress, bunching up the fabric to pull it up your thighs.

Her fingers finally traced the hem of your panties as she watched your face carefully in the reflection. You looked so pretty like this, practically melting in her arms, lips parted with your eyes closed, as she played with you. After a second of admiring the way you looked, Wanda brought a hand up to grab your jaw, turning your head towards her, before leaning into you for a sloppy kiss, opening your mouth as she pressed a finger to your clothed clit. You moaned into her mouth, giving her perfect chance to slide her tongue into yours, immediately falling in love with the way you tasted. Oh, Wanda just couldn’t wait to have her way with you.

“You’re so wet for me already,” she whispered in your ear, fingers still playing over your clothed sex. “I’ve barely touched you yet.”

“Wanda,” you breathed, eyes closed as you laid your head back against her shoulder.

“No, baby, open your eyes,” she smiled into your cheek as you followed her instructions. “I want you to watch when I fuck you.”

You didn’t know how your knees didn’t just give out the moment she said those words. Not wanting to disappoint, you made sure to keep your eyes open as best you could, watching how her hands moved underneath the fabric of your dress. When you finally feel her fingers slipping into your panties, Wanda moans against your shoulder, her eyes rolling back as she feels the wetness of your pussy. You were practically dripping.

Without wasting another second, Wanda pushed two fingers into you with ease. You moaned softly, immediately clenching around her as she curled her fingers into you, pressing against the sweet spot in your pussy, which she seemed to have no trouble finding.

“You can do better than that, baby,” Wanda whispered, fingers suddenly pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Mmh–W-Wanda,” you moaned out, holding on to her wrist as she fingered you. “Oh, fuck!”

Her second hand was brought into play shortly after, using it to rub your clit roughly, making you jolt against her, legs shaking, and your slick slowly traveling down your thighs. The sight of you writhing against her in the reflection was almost too hot for you to look at, always turning your head away, only for Wanda to grab your jaw and turn you back to face the mirror. You were tight around her fingers, and Wanda couldn’t help but groan at the fact, staring at you through the mirror as you came undone on her fingers.

You shook erratically as you came, unable to think about anything else but the orgasm she had just given you. That was until you felt her pushing in a third finger into your leaking hole without any warning. You tried to push against her, to ask her to give you a second, but something about the way her eyes looked in the mirror as she stared at you gave you a feeling that she would just keep doing whatever she pleased.

So, you let her, no matter how sensitive you were.

“That’s it, baby,” she groaned. “Being such a good girl for me.”

“Please, please—“ you whined, not sure if you were begging for more or begging her to stop.

The stretch of her three fingers was enough to make you chant her name like a prayer as she fucked you through your first orgasm. She was knuckles deep into your squelching pussy, curling them in a rhythmic pattern against your sweet spot, and it made you wonder how you were still standing. Her fingers piston in and out of you, bringing you to the edge for the second time tonight, making your bones feel like jelly. And finally, you arch your back against her, coming right on her fingers once again, screaming her name out without a care in the world, knowing everyone outside the door must’ve heard you.

But Wanda kept going. She continued to finger you, lost in thought after watching you come twice in the mirror, your cunt gushing so loudly, it’s embarrassing.

“Look how pretty you are, (y/n),” she cooed, using her other hand to grope your tits.

“I- I can’t, Wanda, p-please—“ you whined, gripping onto her tightly, unable to watch yourself through the mirror anymore. “T-Too much, please!”

“But you're so pretty when you beg. Why wouldn't I just keep going and going and... going?”

And so, she does. She fucks you until you can barely stand anymore, when your knees buckle, and she has to hold you up with one arm around your waist and even then, she still keeps going, and you’re sobbing at the overstimulation. You almost nearly fall and curl in on yourself, but Wanda made sure to keep you steady, bringing you to the edge another time, and another… and another.

By the end of it, you laid back against her, holding you up completely as your legs have given out. Your eyes were heavy, threatening to close as Wanda soothed out your dress with one hand, kissing you softly down your neck again, this time over the prettiest purple bruises that littered all over your skin. Her lips were warm, soft, and settling as she kissed you. She took in the sight of you with her eyes locked onto you through the mirror; you had your eyes closed, heavily exhaling, hair ruffled and messy, and yet, you looked like the prettiest mess ever. Her pretty girl.

“You’re so perfect,” Wanda whispered lovingly into your ear, her breath ticking your skin. “I don’t like having to fight for your attention.”

The way she said that last sentence was kind of sad, in the way that it hurt her feelings, and you could only hum in response as you slowly but surely regained your composure, shifting slightly in Wanda’s arms. You always knew Wanda was the jealous type, maybe overly jealous, but you found it endearing how she endlessly chased after you, how she still wanted you after tonight.

“You really don’t even have to, Wanda,” you tell her softly, trying to stand upright, wobbling slightly as you did so, to turn and cup her face with your hands. “You know everything I do is so that you can keep your eyes on me.”

“It works every time.���

You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to her lips, melting when she smiled into it, “That’s why I do it.”

Wanda took a moment to look at you after you pulled away from her lips. Your lipstick was smudged, spreading slightly down under your bottom lip sexily, making Wanda want nothing more than to kiss you again. And nothing was stopping her, so she did. She was happy, finally being able to have you like she had always wanted and knowing the fact that when you walk out of this bathroom, everyone will see all the marks and bruises Wanda left on you. Because of it, she felt a surge of satisfaction as she pulled you close, determined to show everyone outside just who you belonged to.

That way no one would even dare to try to take her woman again tonight, reminding them that you were hers, and hers alone.

— navigation!

[simmerkate]

Xtra Interactions | Cupids Calling Add-on Mod (FREE)

Welcome to "Cupid's Calling," the enchanting Valentine's add-on mod for "Xtra Interactions" that brings a touch of romance and passion to your Sims' lives! Delve into a world of heartfelt connections and intimate moments as you explore a variety of social interactions and buffs designed to ignite the flames of love and companionship.

Heart-to-Heart Talk: Engage in deep conversations that foster a "Heartfelt Connection" or risk the pain of "Heartache" if things don't go as planned.

Love Language Discussion: Discover your partner's love language and bask in the "Love Language Understanding," but beware of the frustration of "Miscommunication Frustration."

Promises and Commitments: Embrace "Committed Devotion" as you make promises, but be wary of the fallout from "Broken Promises."

Secret Love Letter: Experience the thrill of being a "Secret Admirer" or face the awkwardness of leaving someone "Weirded Out."

Talk about Fantasies: Explore "Fantasy Fulfillment" together or risk feeling "Vanilla" in your relationship.

Talk about Fairy Tale Endings: Dream of "Fairy Tale Dreams" or face the reality of feeling "Tied Down."

Discuss Spirit Animals: Find "Spiritual Harmony" or navigate through "Spiritual Discord" in your relationship.

Discuss Soul Mates: Affirm your bond as "Soul Mates" or confront the doubt of being unsure about your connection.

Whispered Desires: Unleash your desires and revel in the passion of "Desire Unleashed" or face the discomfort of "Ick!"

Naughty Pillow Talk: Connect intimately with "Naughty Pillow Talk" or deal with the aftermath of a "Headache."

Passionate Goodnight Kiss: End your day with "Goodnight Bliss" or experience the sting of being "Ignored."

And don't miss out on the highlight of the season: the Valentine's Ball! Host a romantic gathering, complete challenges, and strive for gold, silver, or bronze status as you create unforgettable memories filled with music, dancing, and heartfelt moments.

Get ready to embark on a journey of love and romance like never before with "Cupid's Calling." It's time to celebrate love in all its forms and create lasting memories with your beloved Sims!

This is a standalone add-on, you don't need Xtra Interactions but it adds to the gameplay.

 Xtra Interactions v2 is available for early release right now here (xx)

 but you can still get the v1 for free on Curseforge (xx)

Follow me on insta @SimmerKatex

Download The FREE add-on from Curseforge (xx)

[ancientcraftnoccultism]

Introduction To Candle Magic

Ancient Craft & Occultism

___

By KB

Introduction

Welcome back witches in training! We've been covering a lot of ground bases lately, especially within the realms of spellwork. Today, we're going to take that a bit further by opening our horizons to the infinite world of Candle Magic! In this lesson, we're going to discuss basic color magic, the history of candles, and how to use candles in your craft. Let's get to it!

A Brief Candle History

The exact origin of the candle is quite a debate among historical scholars, but there is a large sum of evidence that suggests candles made of beeswax were used in Egypt and Crete as early as 3000 BCE. Other early candles were fashioned using tallow-soaked tapers manufactured from fibrous materials like rushes. Rushlights were one of the first types of enclosed light we are aware of, yet they were unlike candles as we know them today because they lacked a wick. The impoverished continued to utilize them for centuries because they were also inexpensive to produce.

It may come as no surprise that the Romans are credited with creating the first wicked candles by continuously dipping a roll of papyrus into tallow, a converted form of beef or mutton fat, while wrapping it around a length of twine. Candles were still used in the same manner, but they had superior quality and a longer lifespan than rushlights.

However, candle production was not only practiced by the Romans. Wicked candles were "invented" by numerous other ancient civilizations who also used local plant-based waxes. The eulachon fish, which is so oily that when dried, it would burn like a candle when you ignite one end, was used as a candle by tribes in Alaska and Canada. The Chinese used wrapped ricepaper as wicks. In India, wax was created from the fruit of the cinnamon tree.

Candles, in any form, were a significant component of religious rites throughout this time. The Jewish Festival of Lights, Hanukkah, was originally documented around 165 B.C. Constantine, the Roman emperor between 306 and 337 A.D., mandated the use of lamps during Easter celebrations. Indeed, from roughly the time of Constantine, lights have played a significant role in religious events and signify the purifying light of God.

Candle flames were seen by ancient peoples to reveal enigmatic things. One could experience an altered state of consciousness and see gods, spirits, or the future by gazing into a flame. In a magic ceremony for "dreaming true," or getting information from dreams, the late Egyptians of the third century B.C. utilized lamps and possibly candles. He retired to a pitch-black cave that faced south and sat there gazing into a flame till he saw a god. Then he went to sleep, hoping that the deity would show up in his dreams and provide him with the answers he was looking for.

The Roman Christian scholar Tertullian fiercely objected to the ancient Pagan practice of lighting candles and lights during religious ceremonies, calling it "the useless lighting of lamps at noon." Candles and lamps were used in Christian rites from the fourth century, but candles weren't put on church altars until the later Middle Ages, starting in the twelfth century. Consecrated holy candles are used in ceremonies for blessings, atonement for sins, and the exorcism of demons, all of which were instituted by the Catholic Church.

Using Candles In The Craft

Candles have long been used as versatile tools, but in witchcraft, they can also be used for divination, spirit sensing, casting spells, and a variety of other things. Let's jump right in.

Divination - Reading the wax and observing how the candle really burns are the two most popular techniques for candle divination. You must observe the candle's burning pattern, including its height, flickering, and the presence of many flames, in order to make a prediction based on how it burns. Two flames could indicate assistance from the afterlife in achieving your objective. Even the hues of the flame may give you a clue as to how well your efforts are going. However, there is no agreement on what these indications signify. While some practitioners hold that a candle that burns tall and strongly indicates that one's request will be granted, others draw attention to the fact that the wick's length and quality, as well as an air vent, can affect how the candle burns. Prioritize your intention over the candle's burning process. You can always read the wax once it hardens, or pour the wax directly into cold water for it to harden and then interpret the symbols, much like you would with bone throwing, or scrying. Personally, I also like to pay attention to the smoke and interpret the way the smoke from the candle flows in order to interpret surrounding energies.

Spirit Work - Fire scrying is the most common way to communicate with spirits, and as it's the only method with candles I have experience with, that's what I will be discussing here. I encourage you to do your own research into spirit communication outside of my suggestion, because I'm sure there are plenty other methods out there. Again, there is no base consensus in a means to interpretation, as spirits and practitioners alike have different ways of communication. Just like with any other scrying, its imperative to stay connected to your personal energy while connecting with surrounding energy to properly interpret the signals you are receiving. Connecting with deities is also possible using this method of Candle Magic.

Rituals/Spellwork - In rituals and spells, candles are used to increase vibrations, represent specific elements and other important objects or creatures, use symbolism, and seal items like letters or spell bottles. Even candle spells can be created simply lighting a candle with intention. It is very common to carve, dress, and anoint candles in aid for ritual and spellwork as well. Fire being the main force driving the work, of course.

Worship - Candles are often used as offerings for various deities. Symbolism, color, and dressings can all play a part of this as well. They are also used as a beacon for an entity to guide you through your working.

Candle Correspondences

When undertaking serious candle work, choosing the right candle colors is crucial. Each hue has a unique meaning and possesses unique abilities. It's crucial to pick colors that align with your aims while working with candles in spells or rituals. Please remember that this is a very basic list and that the things you will read in your personal correspondence are far more significant than anything you will read here.

White - Attraction, Purification, Protection, Balance, Clarity, Grounding, Healing, Hope, Innocence, Optimism, Peace, Truth, Willpower

White can take the place of any other color when not available. Just a bit of visualization is required.

Black - Acceptance, Afterlife, Banishing, Binding, Determination, Endings, Justice, Loss, Release, Break, Security, Grief, Negativity, Patience, Persistence, Rebirth, Strength, Self Control

Red - Assertiveness, Courage, Creativity, Energy, Desire, Loyalty, Motivation, Power, Survival, Change

Yellow - Action, Communication, Learning, Finances, Business, Intellect, Inspiration, Knowledge, Wisdom, Stimulation

Pink - Acceptance, Affection, Beauty, Compassion, Healing, Family, Harmony, Kindness, Longevity, Nurturing, Partnership, Prosperity

Green - Abundance, Agriculture, Beauty, Creativity, Family, Fertility, Healing, Luck, Environment, Nurturing

Purple - Authority, Enlightenment, Spirituality, Emotions, Imagination, Influence, Truth, Wisdom, Overcoming Fear

Orange - Adaptive, Ambition, Confidence, Courage, Discipline, Energy, Freedom, Justice, Positivity, Pleasure, Stimulation, Travel

Blue - Honesty, Truth, Trust, Dreams, Sleep, Mental, Wisdom, Leadership, Fertility, Marriage, Healing, Study

Brown - Endurance, Animals, Balance, Courage, Grounding, Stability, Protection

Silver - Awareness, Intuition, Money, Purification, Potential, Stability, Success, Celestial

Gold - Abundance, Ambition, Money, Happiness, Power, Influence, Solar energy

Even if you aren't aware of it, the type of candle and the type of wax it is made of may have an impact on your craft. It can all come down to functionality or magical implications.

Taper Candles

Taper candles are tall, thin candles with a tapered top; they are often placed in vintage, smaller candle jars and are more ornamental and symbolic. Shorter taper candles are typically used to seal objects with wax. They can, however, be utilized for any task.

Pillar Candles

There are many different types of pillar candles, but these are the ones I see used almost exclusively. They differ from being short and fat to being tall and slim. They can be utilized for a variety of purposes, but I've found that rituals are where they're most useful.

Votive Candles

Votive candles are little and barely taper more at the base. They are frequently placed in glass candle holders and are used as offerings to deities. Given that their modest, tapering size is what makes them votives, their sizes rarely fluctuate. But they do come in a variety of colors. They are often white.

Tealights

Tealights are tiny, thin, and short candles. You can use them to make offerings, perform spells and rituals, decorate, or even keep wax warmers warm. I frequently observe this kind of candle being used, largely because they are the least expensive candles available.

Now, let's go over some of the different wax types.

Beeswax

It used to be difficult and dangerous to obtain beeswax, which added to the candle's mystique and spiritual power. Beeswax is a natural substance that burns more slowly, making it a premium item among contemporary candle spiritual practitioners; yet, because of its price, it may not be the best choice. Beeswax candles are available in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, and hues and can be rolled, poured, or dipped. Longer ancestral rituals that demand higher vibrations and purpose work best with these candles.

Soy

People who use earth magic sometimes like soy candles since they are natural. Although they tend to burn for a shorter period of time than beeswax candles, they keep fragrances quite well. When dressed, they can also be extremely fragile and challenging to mold or carve. The majority of soy candles are already housed in glass. They are most effective when utilized in ancestral rituals for healing and rebirth.

Paraffin

Since it's a byproduct of the petroleum industry, many people consider it to be less natural than the available alternatives. The fact that it releases chemicals like toluene into the air makes it a poor choice for poorly ventilated areas. Other than providing the foundation for candles, I haven't discovered any sources that discuss the magickal powers of paraffin itself. I found a few for petroleum jelly, which is frequently used as a foundation for herbal salves, but they mainly praised how simple it was to use as an ointment. Even our non-human ancestors may have used petroleum, according to some sources, which makes it a solid foundation for ancestor magic.

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Aphrodite Messages to your love life

Pile One (Left) Pile two (Right)

Pile 1 Reading 1: The Whisper of the Rose

Aphrodite's message is carried on the petals of the rose, the symbol of love and beauty. Close your eyes and envision yourself standing in a garden filled with roses of every hue. As you breathe in their sweet fragrance, feel a gentle breeze brushing against your skin.

In this tranquil setting, Aphrodite's voice reaches out to you. She whispers of a love that is as delicate and beautiful as the petals of the rose. She assures you that love will find its way to you when the time is right. Trust in the process of life, and remain open to the possibilities that await you.

Listen closely to the whispers of your heart, for they will guide you towards the love that you seek. Just as the rose unfolds its petals in the warmth of the sun, so too will love blossom in your life when the conditions are ripe. Embrace the journey with patience and grace, knowing that Aphrodite's blessings are always with you.

In the quiet corners of fate's library, where the pages of destiny are written, I see a chapter unfolding for you, dear friend. Amidst the dusty tomes and whispered secrets, there is a partner waiting to step into your story unexpectedly. Picture a scene where the scent of aged paper mingles with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, where the quiet hum of academia fills the air. It is here, in this sanctuary of knowledge and wisdom, that you will encounter someone who shares your passion for the written word.

This partner, with a penchant for literature and a love for learning, will enter your life like a plot twist you never saw coming. They will be a stable presence, anchored by the weight of battles fought and victories won. Through the trials and tribulations of their journey, they have emerged stronger and more resilient, a testament to their unwavering spirit. As you engage in spirited discussions about your favorite books and delve into the depths of academia together, you will discover a profound connection that transcends the pages of any novel. With each shared chapter, you will come to realize that this unexpected partner is not just a character in your story, but the co-author of a love story that is just beginning to unfold.

Pics that give Pile 1 vibes:

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Pile 2 Reading 2: The Song of the Sea

As you stand by the shore, gazing out at the vast expanse of the ocean, let the rhythmic sound of the waves wash over you. Close your eyes and feel the gentle caress of the sea breeze against your skin. In this moment of stillness, Aphrodite's voice echoes in the depths of your soul.

She speaks to you through the timeless melody of the sea, reminding you that love is as boundless and eternal as the ocean itself. Just as the waves ebb and flow, so too does love come and go in its own natural rhythm. Trust in the ebb and flow of love in your life, knowing that each wave carries with it the promise of new beginnings.

Embrace the depths of your emotions, for it is through vulnerability that love finds its truest expression. Allow yourself to be swept away by the currents of passion and desire, knowing that Aphrodite's guidance will always lead you back to the shores of love.

In the tapestry of your love life, there emerges a thread woven with the fabric of fate, guiding you towards a partner whose arrival is marked by a series of serendipitous events. Picture a map spread out before you, its edges worn from countless adventures, and the faint scent of distant lands lingering in the air. It is through the call of the unknown and the allure of far-off horizons that this partner will find their way into your life, their passion for travel igniting a spark of wanderlust within your soul.

But heed the whispers of destiny, for this partner is not one bound by convention or weighed down by the burdens of responsibility. Instead, they live lightly, dancing on the winds of spontaneity and embracing the joys of living in the moment. Despite their tendency to escape the confines of routine, they bring a sense of adventure and excitement into your life that is both exhilarating and intoxicating. As fate unfolds its intricate design, you will find yourself swept up in a whirlwind romance, where every twist and turn leads to unexpected discoveries and moments of pure bliss. Embrace the unpredictability of this journey, for it is through the unplanned detours and unforeseen obstacles that the true magic of love reveals itself.

Pics that give pile 2 vibes:

[userlando]

sweet like honey — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [4.1k] summary: spending your honeymoon in southern italy is as best as it can get. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & fluff, semi-public sex, established marriage. a/n: first f1 fic I’ve posted so hope y’all like this!! as always, dedicated to my darling @babyleclerc​, whom i love very much. i hope this piece of fluffy smut will lift your spirits <3

You felt disoriented, mind all muddled and slow like you’d taken your brain out and ran it through sludge. The process of waking up from your deep slumber wasn’t painful, per se, but you weren’t too happy with being woken up from one of the best naps you’d ever had.

There was a noise somewhere and it took you another few seconds to register the press of lips across your face, one after the other, quick and brief before they moved to the next patch of skin. The noises you were hearing were the exaggerated lips against flesh, and you scrunched your nose up against the onslaught of kiss attacks on your face; Twisting your head and finally opening your eyes to stare at your attacker.

Daniel’s wide smile was the first thing to fill your vision, a perfect picture of bliss and mischief and you let out a laugh at his ridiculous wake up call when your mind finally caught up to the situation you found yourself in.

“You’re insufferable.” You grumbled, voice thick with sleep and Danny tilted his head to the right, eyes never leaving your face as you huffed out a breath and gazed around the room; A little disoriented.

“And yet, you still married me.” He swiped a few stray hairs from your collarbone, bending his head to place a kiss against the delicate skin. “You’re contradicting yourself, Mrs. Ricciardo.”

You let out a hum, a close-lipped smile sneaking up on your face at the name he’d called you. It was new, just one day old, but it still managed to make your chest clench horribly tight; The feeling so incredibly new but welcome. It was still hard to believe that you’d gotten married, laying in the hotel bed on your honeymoon, nonetheless, with your husband.

It was considerably darker now than it had been when you landed. Having sat through a flight from Perth to Italy and completely messed up your time zones in the process. It wasn’t really a surprise when you went straight to the hotel, falling into bed with one another and…

Your gaze drifted to Daniel’s face, your own face heating up a little at the look he was giving you. Like he knew what you were thinking of, like he was proud of the bruises on your hips and the hickeys on your chest.

A little groan left your lips when you shifted in bed, feeling the ache in every part of your body and you would’ve stretched like a cat if Danny wasn’t laying on top of you. Leave it to the six foot something man to act like he was half your size, curling up in your lap any chance he could get.

“What time s’it?” You asked, bringing your hands up to run through the messy locks of his hair. They were damp, almost wet, and you briefly wondered how long you’d been out for, for him to quietly sneak out of bed and have a shower.

It wasn’t a difficult feat though, you always slept like a rock.

“Fuck if I know.” He squinted in the direction of where his phone was thrown on the table, hauling himself up your body so his face was hovering over yours. “It’s late.”

“Good observation.” You complimented him, with only a hint of sarcasm that he picked up on.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss and it instantly ignited something in your body. It was a wonder, how two years together didn’t tamper the sheer insatiable need you felt toward him.

It had been like that from the start, having met him through mutual friends and he hadn’t been subtle in the least, but neither had you. You weren’t immune to his charm, immediately being drawn to his big smile, dark eyes and tall figure. He had a natural boyish charm to him, his humor matching yours that instantly reeled you in. It wasn’t a surprise to any one of your friends when you’d announced that you two were dating, receiving looks that screamed ‘is that supposed to be news?’

From then on, you’d been so drawn to each other that you could barely stay away from him. You couldn’t even say no when he asked for you to join him during race weekends, sticking by him and being his pillar when it was needed.

It had been a little rough when he announced his retirement, but you’d found your feet on the ground together and he slowly found his spark again in other hobbies.

Your stomach gave a low grumble that surely vibrated his and it made his lips smile against yours, teeth clacking gently when you both grinned.

“Oh, angry one, aren’t you?” He glanced down at your tummy and you gave him a slap on the shoulder.

“Not my fault that you’re not feeding me.” You wriggled a little until he got the memo, rolling off of you with a groan. A wistful, playful sigh left your lips. “I don’t even know why I married you.”

You weren’t even looking at him, but you could almost feel his eyes widening as he stared at you in mock belief. A startled squeal left your lips when you felt his arms circle your waist, dragging you back into bed with a force that almost knocked the air out of your lungs.

The sound of your giggles filled the room, and Danny would’ve been a little concerned that it was nearing three in the morning and you’d surely get a complaint, but he couldn’t find it in himself to even care when you were underneath him, dressed in nothing but a shirt and squirming as he tickled you. Your smile was radiant, so contagious that he couldn’t help but laugh along.

He didn’t let up until you were screaming mercy, slapping at his hands weakly until he relented and backed off. You were breathing heavily, inhaling as much air as you could with your eyes fastened on him. There was a weariness and distrust in your eyes that he couldn’t help but laugh at, like you were just waiting on him to resume his tickling any minute.

But he had other plans, dark eyes taking in your stretched out body under him and it wasn’t his fault that you looked so delectable, like something he could sink his teeth into and the urge of it was too great for him to resist inching the hem of your shirt up. Just enough to reveal the softness of your stomach.

You were holding your breath, watching him quietly scoot down and pressing light kisses just beneath your belly button. It was almost sinful, the way he looked as his eyes cast upwards to search your face for any reaction.

“Daniel.” Was all you could get out, overwhelmed by the need that suddenly flared up in your body.

Daniel hadn’t really thought much of his name in his life, but coming from your mouth, in that breathy voice of yours? It was his favorite word.

He kissed up your torso, making little humming noises in his throat that made you smile in secret and bring your hands to his hair. The tension evaporated into thin air when your stomach grumbled under his lips, making you groan as he pulled away with a loud laugh.

Who knew that a grumbling stomach could be such a cockblock?

“Let’s get some food into you, aye?” He pulled your shirt down and grabbed your hand to press a kiss into it. “Do you reckon I could charm them into bringing pizza up to the room at this hour?”

The question was ridiculous in itself, really. If anyone could charm someone into doing anything, it was your husband. He just had that natural ability.

“You can try.” You gave him a smile when he rolled his eyes playfully, getting off the bed to grab the telephone.

You used it as your opportunity to sneak off to the bathroom, shedding your clothes and stepping into the shower for a quick wash. The water was hot, exactly what you needed to wash away the multiple hours spent on an airplane and the shuttle car to get to the Amalfi Coast.

Your thoughts drifted to your wedding, recalling the moments of sheer joy you both had felt from the moment you woke up that morning. Nothing had been as easy to say as I do, because you’d known that Daniel was it for you from the moment you laid eyes on him.

It was cheesy to say or think that shit. Love at first sight, because it wasn’t, was it? It’s more like attraction at first sight than anything else, really. But you’d known it deep in your being.

The shower dragged on for longer than you intended to, stepping tentatively out into the room with your bathrobe tied tightly around your waist. Daniel came rounding the corner from the direction of the door, carrying a tray and looking proud of himself and it made you raise your eyebrows in amusement when he opened the mini fridge and slid a tub of ice cream. You didn’t mention that, surely it’d melt before you had a chance to eat it, because you were so focused on him remembering the small things.

It wasn’t really a surprise. Daniel was attentive and paid attention to the smallest details, but it never failed to make your heart squeeze painfully in adoration when he demonstrated just how intimately he knew you. Like with the ice cream. He knew you loved eating it after pizza and he’d gone out of his way to make sure that you had it on standby.

Daniel pulled the balcony door open, nodding his head for you to follow him outside and you did so, wordlessly.

The air outdoors was just on the brink of being too humid, but it felt nice against your wet skin as you settled into a chair in front of the dark haired man. You glanced out over the railing, where there was nothing but a long stretch of sea. It glimmered beautifully in the moonlight, small waves rippling the water. It was an unreal view, like taken out of a painting, one you couldn’t look away from.

“Do you fancy something stronger than soft drinks?” He asked as he set the food down and plated the sliced cheesy pizza.

“You can choose.” You told him softly, resisting the urge to grab him and hold him close when he pressed a kiss to your forehead before disappearing inside.

You marveled a little at the luck you’d had, meeting Daniel and getting to spend the rest of your life with him. The long journey you’d endured and been through, only to end up in Southern Italy on your honeymoon in your bathrobe and eating pizza on the balcony in the middle of the night.

There was also little concern of how you were supposed to get up in the morning. It was your vacation after all.

“Got you Prosecco.” He placed glasses down on the table, along with the bottle and you reached to pop it open.

Your late night dinner was spent chatting quietly as you ate, drinking one too many glasses of Prosecco and jumping from subject to subject. It was the happiest you’d felt and Daniel could tell.

Not only were you smiling from ear to ear, but you were starting to relax a lot more, looking beautiful where you sat across from him with your back leaned against the chair and legs crossed. He reached a foot out and nudged your calf, making you stop talking and glance at him from under your eyelashes. Coy, playful, flirty. The way you always got after a few drinks. Something flared up in his chest that felt a lot like love and he struggled to keep the smile off his face as he regarded you.

“Are you playing footsie with me, Ricciardo?” You asked, laughter in your voice as you reached an arm out to grab your glass.

“Gotta keep the spark going, don’t I?” His eyebrows jumped, making you laugh and tip the glass back so you could get the last dregs of the wine down your hatch.

He watched you set the glass down, eyebrows relaxing a bit as a contemplative look passed your eyes. It was so subtle that he almost missed it, but he’d known you for long enough to see it with the naked eye.

“You alright?” He asked, voice gentle and a little concerned.

You glanced up, eyes a little wide like you were surprised that he’d caught on to your wandering thoughts. “Oh. Yeah, I was just thinking of the last time we were here.”

The smile overtaking his face was inevitable as he caught up, mind immediately going back to a year ago. It had been right after Imola where the two of you had decided that renting a car and driving seven hours to the southern part of the country was a good idea. It had been a car ride filled with car games, belting out to music and even deep conversations before you arrived at your destination.

You had both spent four days in your hotel room, naked and not emerging from your space even once. Cold showers and room service had been your best friends.

It was also the week where he’d made it his life’s mission to memorise every single part of your body, what made you tick and what made you scream. Those were the days that you replayed in your mind whenever Daniel was away and you were alone in your bedroom.

“Anything specific?” He asked, after a moment's silence, voice dropping an octave.

His whole body felt like it was burning up when you uncrossed your legs, teeth sinking into your lower lip. The epitome of bashful but he knew you better than that.

“Just…” You paused for a small sigh. “Trying to remember some things.”

“Is that so?” He bit back a smile and opted to slip out of his chair, getting on his knees with a suppressed groan. He was getting old and his knees weren’t what they used to be.

Your eyes were big and searching, stuck on him as he settled himself between your legs.

He parted them, not with any real force because they splayed open without needing much encouragement and flicked a finger against the flap of your bathrobe.

“You need any help remembering?” He looked up at you from where was kneeled by your feet, and you’d never seen a prettier view - ocean view be damned.

You couldn’t open your mouth to form any words, settling for a mute nod instead and hoping he would allow that. Daniel’s face spread into a slow smile, gripping one leg in his hand to kiss it. He loved on the meat of your thigh, sucking small bruises into it before giving the other thigh the same treatment, winding you up so tight you thought you were about to snap. Like a rubber band being pulled to its limit.

“Daniel, please.” You pleaded, the want gripping your throat like a pair of hands. “More.”

Your husband didn’t say anything but he complied to your strangled request, dragging his bottom lip up your inner thigh until he was close enough to the apex of your legs to feel the heat against his face. He felt a pang of delight hit him straight in the chest when he pulled your bathrobe to the sides to reveal your center, wet and needy. His other hand reached down to grab himself over his shorts, anything to relieve the pressure building in his groin.

“God, baby, you’re so wet already.” He sounded breathless and the sight of his heavy lidded eyes made you warm all over. “My good girl loves when I bruise her up, hm?”

A whimper escaped you and you brought a hand up to cover your mouth, making Danny grin. His eyes roamed your body and he must’ve seen something that bothered him because his eyebrow ticked on his forehead, reaching forward to tug at the loose tie of your robe. It fell open to reveal your naked body and he made a noise in his throat.

You felt very exposed, holding back from covering yourself up because your balcony had a restricted view when it came to other rooms, and unless someone was having a reckless swim in the middle of the ocean, there was no one around to see you but Daniel himself.

And fuck, was he looking. His eyes didn’t stop flitting, like he wasn’t sure where to settle his eyes because the mere sight of you overwhelmed him. It was kind of astonishing, how even after years together, you managed to take his breath away.

“Stop staring.” You grumbled, a little bashful when he hadn’t said anything in a minute. He let his hands slide up your stomach before they grabbed at your breasts, feeling them in his palms before pinching your nipples until you keened in pleasure.

“That’s it.” He encouraged you as a moan escaped your mouth. “Louder, baby.”

You both were playing with fire because you weren’t exactly a quiet person, and Daniel knew this. But there was mischief written all over his face as he scooted closer, grabbing at your thighs to spread them further before he dove in.

He made a noise in his throat when your legs immediately closed, the feel of his tongue against your clit sending a zip of electricity up your spine. You let out a moan, thighs shaking when he started licking and sucking in earnest, opening his mouth wider to cover every inch of you. His tongue swiped between your folds, finding your hole to lick into and you slumped back against the backrest of the chair, tipping your head back when the feeling got to be too much.

“Taste so good.” Daniel pulled back an inch, swiping his tongue over your pussy once just to see your body lock up. “You look beautiful, baby. Look at me.”

You made a noise that sounded a lot like a whimper, shaking your head. Daniel gripped your thighs tighter, pads of his fingers digging into your flesh and it felt like enough of a warning for you to slump your head forward, settling your eyes on him., albeit a little hazily.

Daniel looked absolutely wrecked. There wasn’t a better word for it. His eyes were dark, mouth pink and rubbed raw, and fuck, your slick was glistening on his skin. You ran a hand through his curls, fighting to catch your breath that had been stolen from you, watching him push his head into your hand.

You knew what that small gesture meant, and you complied at the silent request in his eyes by pushing at his head to bring him back to where you were throbbing.

It was unholy, the way he sucked and licked, laving your skin with his tongue like it was an ice cream cone. His eyes were shut, lost in the feeling of your thighs hugging his head and the smell and taste of you surrounding him. Daniel couldn’t get enough, wondering exactly how many orgasms he could pull from you before the reception called up to tell you to keep it down.

The way your thighs started to shake was a clear indicator that you were nearing your end and he kept at it with the same pace as he heard your breathing pick up, his one hand reaching into his shorts and underwear to grip himself. It wouldn’t take much for him to join you, already feeling worked up from just tasting you on his tongue.

“Oh, oh fuck, Danny.” You swore and Daniel would’ve smiled at the way you seemed completely lost in your own pleasure, your little breathy moans climbing in octaves that surely echoed.

It didn’t deter him though, moaning and humming and it was the vibrations of his mouth that finally flung you over the edge you’d been teetering so nicely. You threw caution to the wind, screaming out your climax as your body locked up; Back bowing and hands grabbing at Daniel’s hair to keep him in place. The sting of his hair being pulled made him reach his end, a violent shudder going through his body as he shot his load into his shorts, undoubtedly messing them up but he couldn’t find it in himself to care; Eyes rolling and body jerking.

Daniel realized his jaw was aching when his senses slowly came back, but he stayed until your moans turned into soft whimpers, body relaxing and thighs falling off his shoulders. His eyes traveled up your body where it was displayed for him, a slight sheen of sweat on your skin that made you look otherworldly. He looked his fill, love filling his stomach like lead.

“You with me?” He asked, voice rough.

You let out a hum, a small mmm that made him laugh. It was good enough for him, and he groaned as he hauled himself up on shaky legs. Fuck, he felt like Bambi on ice and the situation in his shorts was wildly uncomfortable now that the deed was done.

He bent at the knees and closed your robe, tying it into a nice little bow and you picked your head up from where it had been hanging off the edge of the backrest; Eyes having been gazing at the sky.

You blinked at him, eyes still a little hazy but way more clearer than they’d been a moment ago, and Daniel grinned at your facial expression.

“You look beautiful.” He said, and your face transformed into a smile. Fuck, you looked as happy as he felt. “Now, I’ve already had my dessert, but we can go for some ice cream, right?”

You let out a breath of laughter, hand slapping lazily at his arm when he walked past you to get inside the room.

His singing voice drifted out onto the balcony, and you smiled fondly as you pulled your hair back from your face, grabbing the half-full bottle of Prosecco and switching seats to sit in the lounge couch with the padded seats instead.

You took a swig of the wine, letting out a small moan when it soothed your parched throat. He’d truly worked you up.

The man in question walked out a few seconds later, carrying the tub of ice cream and clad in a different pair of shorts. He’d switched his previous white t-shirt to a tank top, and you didn’t even try to hide your stare as you took in the broadness of his shoulders and the bulge of his arms.

Your man was truly a marvel.

“Up, up.” He prompted you and you scrambled up, letting him sit down and place the ice cream to the side.

Daniel blinked up at you, patting his thigh and you smiled as you sat back down, both legs on one side of his thighs and feet resting on the unoccupied space of the couch. You stretched your arm out to pick the tub up, laughing at the half-melted mess from being in a fridge rather than a freezer.

“I guess we took too long.” Danny laughed, winding an arm around you to steady your body and keep you from tipping over. “Come on then, let me have the first bite.”

You made a little noise, spoon slicing through the lukewarm ice cream and eating it. Daniel gasped in mock betrayal.

“S’mine.” You mumbled through a mouthful, skin by your eyes crinkling up when you smiled.

Daniel resisted the urge to swipe a thumb over it, having always found it horribly endearing how you’d smile with your whole face. He knew you were well and truly happy when the smile reached your eyes, just like it did now.

“What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is mine.” He said, opening his mouth comically big when you brought the spoon to his lips; Letting you feed him.

You laughed and waved the oval metal in his face.

“That’s not how the saying goes, baby.” You said and Daniel squinted his eyes in mock confusion, smile wide on his lips.

“No?” He laughed when you did, watching you feed yourself a mouthful of vanilla goods. “I could’ve sworn that’s how it went.”

“Fuck off.” You giggled with a shake of your head.

The banter went on for a while, sharing bites of ice cream in blissful silence and sneaking small and intimate kisses. The sun was starting to climb as the time went on, exchanging the moon and stars for the oranges and pinks.

Daniel looked ethereal where he was half snoozing beneath you, eyes blinking to keep them open and you swiped a strand of hair from his forehead; Leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the skin there.

If this was marital bliss, then you’d die a happy woman.

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

[ghoulsbounty]

Friend of the Devil

Lee Russell x Gamby!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), office sex, oral (f receiving), face riding, interrupted fun times, cursing, angst, Lee is mean (but soft), secret relationship, power dynamics, power play, slight mentions of sub/dom, childish sibling relationship, competitive nature, frenemies, fluff/happy ending.

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: Here's the Lee part to this anon's other request! I took a while going back and forth with this because I wanted to focuse on how Lee's personality affects everybody, and readers relationship/how you fit into that and in turn have effected him. There's a few Gamby sister requests similar to this going around, so I wanted to do something different but still follow the request. I hope you enjoy! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

The lunchroom was alive with a vibrant cacophony of voices and the rhythmic clatter of trays, the air thick and rich with the mingled aromas of cafeteria offerings—overcooked vegetables, processed meats, and the ever-present scent of reheated pizza. Fluorescent lights flickered slightly overhead, casting a harsh glow over the busy scene. Teachers gathered in their usual enclaves, finding solace and camaraderie amidst the relentless pace of school life. At the corner table, under a particularly noisy air vent, a spirited discussion took place, the latest school gossip providing a welcome escape from the relentless mountains of essays to grade and detailed lesson plans to refine.

Ms. Abbott, always the central figure in these lunchtime exchanges, leaned forward with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't look now, but here comes Tweedle-Dee," she whispered, her voice a blend of amusement and mock secrecy. Her comment ignited a ripple of subdued laughter that spread through the group. Eager heads turned discreetly, their curiosity piqued, all wanting a glimpse of the person who had become the unwitting protagonist of Ms. Abbott’s playful narrative.

Approaching with a brisk, almost frantic stride was Lee Russell. His attire, a meticulously tailored suit paired with gleaming shoes, barely concealed the unmistakable tension he carried. Since his promotion to principal, Russell had swiftly gained the unfortunate distinction of being the least favoured among the faculty. His unpredictable and often heavy-handed leadership style had alienated many. 

"He must be lost without Tweedle-Dum," Ms. Abbott remarked, her voice laced with a sharp edge of sarcasm.

Seychelle, always ready to add drama to any conversation, pounced on the opportunity. "He and Gamby were so far up each other's asses they could tickle each other's tonsils," he declared, his smirk broadening as he theatrically adjusted his silk scarf, draping it back over his shoulder. The group burst into laughter, a sound filled with both genuine amusement and a cathartic release from their collective disdain. "I heard he's returning soon, so maybe it will put his boyfriend in a better mood," Seychelle added, his tone dripping with irony.

As the laughter reverberated around the table, a sudden hush descended when you cleared your throat—a soft yet unmistakable signal of a presence they had momentarily forgotten. Seychelle, caught mid-chuckle, turned as the directed gazes of his colleagues guided him to meet your eyes. Seated right beside him, you were struggling to suppress your own mirth.

"Oh, sorry, Miss Gamby," Seychelle stuttered, his usual confidence slipping as he managed an apologetic smile.

You nodded, acknowledging his apology while your mind briefly wandered to your brother, Neal, and his infamous collaboration with Lee Russell. Together, they had orchestrated a reign filled with both mischief and mismanagement, becoming the stuff of legend at North Jackson High School. Now, with Neal's absence, Russell appeared more adrift than ever—an observation that had not escaped the keen, sometimes merciless eyes of the faculty.

"It's fine," you said reassuringly, prodding the homemade leftovers in your container with a fork. "My brother's an asshole, but Lee Russell is the fucking devil."

The group chuckled, the tension melting away as they eased back into their conversations. You let out a sigh, then heard the distinct click of Prada shoes on the linoleum and the wafting, fruity scent of cologne—signals of the principal’s approach. Setting down your fork, you looked up just in time to see Lee Russell stop beside your table. "Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," you quipped with a tight smile.

Lee ignored the light-hearted jab, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized your lunch. "What the fuck is that?" he demanded, pointing at your container. "Is this what poor people eat?" His words cut through the resumed chatter, casting a silence over the table.

You rolled your eyes, your gaze taking in his perfectly tailored suit and meticulously styled hair—the stark contrast between his polished appearance and his coarse behaviour never failed to amaze you. "I don't know, Lee," you retorted, your voice mocking. "You pay my wages, so you tell me."

Russell's eyes flashed with irritation as a sneer formed on his lips. "Maybe if you spent less time eating garbage like a fuckin' pig and more time doing your job, we wouldn't have so many problems," he snapped.

Taking a moment, you looked around the cafeteria, observing the other teachers quietly watching the exchange, the rambunctious students that ignored it, then turned your weary gaze back to him. "It's lunchtime, Lee. Even school staff need to eat," you stated flatly, emphasizing the obvious.

Ms. Abbott's snigger echoed across the table, momentarily lightening the atmosphere until Lee's sharp glare silenced her amusement. Ignoring her, he leaned forward, pressing his knuckles against the table and fixing his gaze on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. "Since when did you become so goddamn fuckin' familiar? It's Principal Russell to you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And it's lunchtime when I say it's lunchtime. You get your ass in my office and finish writing that grant proposal that was due this morning, or you'll be so fuckin' fired that dogshit will seem like a Michelin star recipe to you. Understood?"

You met his stare unflinchingly, the tension at the table palpable. You knew the importance of picking your battles, especially under the watchful eyes of your colleagues. "Understood, Principal Russell," you responded, your voice calm and measured.

Lee's smug expression deepened as he surveyed the now quiet group. "Good," he spat out, his tone dripping with contempt, pleased with his perceived control over the situation.

Mrs. Deets, unable to contain her dismay, addressed him directly, her voice filled with concern and a hint of defiance. "Don't you think you're being unfair, Russell?" she asked, her eyes flicking briefly to you in sympathy. "You've been loading Miss Gamby with extra work for weeks, and now you're disrupting her lunch break," she continued, her expression frustrated.

Her intervention brought a momentary pause, the air thick as everyone awaited Russell's response, wondering whether it would temper his approach or incite further harshness.

Lee's eyes hardened, turning towards Mrs. Deets with a menacing glint. "And what are you going to do? Report me to HR?" he taunted, his voice thick with arrogance. "I'd like to see you try. They're all in my pocket, just like you should be." His eyes narrowed as he scanned the table, issuing a silent challenge to anyone daring to contest his authority. The table fell silent under his gaze.

With a final sneer, he turned on his heel and strode away, the authoritative click of his polished shoes echoing ominously through the lunchroom. The oppressive atmosphere lingered for a moment before gradually dissipating, leaving displeasure behind but also a sense of unity among the faculty. They exchanged looks that communicated a shared resolve; something would need to change, but carefully and strategically, to avoid the fallout of a direct confrontation with a man who held too much power and too little regard for others.

Gathering your things, you stood and glanced around at the sympathetic faces of your fellow teachers. "Just another day at North Jackson," you remarked, trying to lighten the mood. You gave Mrs. Deets a grateful nod for her support. "Thanks for trying, Val," you added sincerely. Then, with a resigned breath, you turned and headed towards Lee's office, your mind already strategizing for the confrontation ahead and the careful navigation it would require.

Rounding the reception desk, you greeted Miss Swift with a nod, your eyes briefly scanning toward the office behind her. The blinds were tightly drawn, and the muffled sound of Russell's frustrated rant seeped through the closed door. Miss Swift met your gaze with a look of caution. "He's just got back," she whispered, her tone hushed. "He's been in a real bad mood all day. Made me cancel all his appointments and said he was going to tell Superintendent Haas to—well, it wasn't very nice."

You offered her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Janice. You know he's always got a stick up his butt about something," you reassured her, your casual words drawing a reluctant smile from her. "You go have some lunch. I've got this." With a confident nod, you prepared yourself and approached the door to Russell's office, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Lee Russell's voice was sharp as he commanded you to close the door, his tone betraying the strain of the day. As you shut the door behind you, the office felt suffocatingly small, filled with the tension that seemed to emanate from the man hunched over his desk.

Standing a respectable distance away, you maintained a neutral tone, despite the stress in the air. "You wanted to see me, Principal Russell?" you asked, watching as he slowly lifted his face from his hands, revealing a weary expression that briefly flickered to surprise, perhaps not expecting your calm demeanour. You waited, poised for his response, ready to discuss the grant proposal or whatever else he deemed urgent enough to interrupt your lunch. Deep down, you understood the true reason for this meeting, yet you couldn't deny the thrill it added to the encounter when you pretended otherwise.

"I don't have time for your smart-ass remarks today," he grumbled, slumping back into his chair with his legs spread wide. He shot you a pitiful glance, his face etched with frustration. "Everything's falling apart, and you're too busy cozying up to my damn enemies to be of any help." His voice was a blend of desperation and resentment, the anger he had shown earlier in the cafeteria now reduced to a needy whine.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at his dramatics as you circled his desk, perching on its edge right in front of him. "They're my colleagues, Lee—your staff—and we need to keep things normal without you losing it and threatening me in front of everyone in the cafeteria," you said calmly, fully aware that it would take more to alleviate his irritation as he rolled his eyes.

"Losing it?" He scoffed, fixing you with a pointed look. "You've seen nothing yet. I'd line them all up and send them packing one by one, like a damn firing squad execution. The faculty are a massive pain in my ass; they're all fucking replaceable." His words were sharp and icy, each one a dagger designed to intimidate and belittle—something he excelled at.

The harshness of his tone left no doubt about his contempt for his colleagues, his disregard for their contributions painfully clear. This wasn't the first time you had heard such sentiments from him—it was merely the latest in a series of similar tirades. Lee had fought his way to the position of principal with a tenacity and fierceness that appeared limitless. His impulsive nature and propensity to act without thinking through the consequences often left you as the one trying to reel him back from the brink, attempting to mitigate the fallout of his decisions before they escalated into full-blown crises.

Lee's relentless ambition had fostered a toxic atmosphere, one rife with fear and uncertainty. Each time he went into a downward spiral, the responsibility fell on you to curb his impulsive decisions and soften the impact. The stress and exhaustion were evident on your colleagues' faces, their morale dwindling under Lee's oppressive leadership. You had cautioned him that maintaining friendships would be challenging once he held power over others, but he had dismissed your concerns, preoccupied instead with choosing the ideal carpet colour for his opulent new office. His priorities, it seemed, were focused more on appearances than on the well-being of his staff.

"Oh, really? And what will you do with nine hundred students and no one to teach them?" you questioned, going along with his rant. A bemused smile played at the corners of your lips, reflecting both amusement and scepticism at his drastic solutions.

"I'd hire new ones, ones who actually listen and respect me. Start fresh, a clean slate without those fuckin' assholes," he replied, his determination evident in the firm set of his jaw. When you laughed, he nudged your leg gently with his knee, showing a rare moment of playfulness amidst his tirade. "Might keep you, though," he mumbled, his tone softening slightly.

"Really? I thought I was the first on your list to go," you teased, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wasn't there something about firing me? Something about dogshit tasting good?"

He rolled his eyes again, his frustration melting into a reluctant smile. He scooted his chair closer to you and leaned forward, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt. "I didn't mean it," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with regret. It seemed as if the gravity of his own words had caught him off guard.

Apologies from him were rare, like the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he feared showing, lest they be exploited. His public outbursts had intensified since your brother's absence, leaving you to bear the brunt of his sharp tongue. The weight of his words felt heavier, cutting deeper as if to compensate for the missing target. Meanwhile, the staff's insubordination had increased, emboldened by the shifting dynamics.

Despite your frequent reminders that the tough façade wasn't as necessary without Neal around, Lee remained resolute in his approach. His determination to show the faculty that you were just another annoyance, merely another Gamby sibling he had to tolerate, was unwavering. He carried himself with an air of cold authority, a mask firmly in place to shield any sign of weakness, even if it meant pushing you further away.

Yet, you found yourself falling for him during every stolen moment in his office. Each encounter, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, unveiled the layers beneath his hardened exterior. The soft whispers, the fleeting touches, and the rare, unguarded smiles slowly revealed a side of him that was vulnerable and aching. Over time, you convinced yourself that Lee Russell was a deeply flawed man whom you could fix.

You watched his hand as it slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, tracing a gentle path along your thigh. You halted his advance by placing your hand over his, confronting his surprised look with a firm gaze of your own. "That's not how this works," you asserted clearly.

He let out a dramatic sigh and reclined in his chair, eyes shifting upwards to the stained ceiling tiles. "Do we have to go through this every time?" he asked, his voice laced with an unmistakable air of arrogance as he nudged his chair to swivel slightly with his feet.

"If you want to fuck me, then yes, we absolutely do," you responded, your tone flat and matter-of-fact. Your hands clutched the edges of the desk tightly, ready for whatever might follow. Observing him closely, you noted the visible struggle on his face as he prepared to speak, a battle of emotions that ended with him throwing his hands up in evident annoyance.

"Fine, fuck," he sighed, "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that you made me shout at you," he mumbled, leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on your knees. "There, are you happy now, you fucking cretin?" His gaze bore into yours with an intense mixture of annoyance and something deeper, something almost vulnerable. His eyes searched yours, seeking a reaction, a connection, while his rough words contrasted sharply with the tenderness of his touch.

You smiled down at him, a hint of satisfaction playing on your lips as your resolve waned. Casually, you draped both legs over the sides of his chair, your feet resting on either side of his legs. The room seemed to close in around you, the tension thick in the air as you held his gaze, challenging him silently while his hands remained on your knees..

Lee smirked, his eyes darkening with desire as he pushed your skirt higher up your thighs until it bunched at your waist, exposing more of your skin to the cool air. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of your panties, the fabric already darkening with the wetness that the tease of his fingers drew from you. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, the raw hunger evident in his eyes making your heart race and your breath hitch. His hands, resting back on your knees, gripped a little tighter, the possessiveness in his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin prickled under his touch as he trailed soft kisses along your legs, from the inside of your knee to your thigh, until the curve of his nose pressed deliciously against your heat. You gasped, your hips involuntarily seeking more pressure from him, but he pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam.

He sat back, his gaze intense as his hand slid up your inner thigh. Two fingers hooked behind the fabric of your underwear, swiping through your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You moaned as both fingers pressed against your entrance, the sensation electrifying. Lee's other hand pushed at your knee, spreading your legs wider, ensuring you were perfectly displayed for him.

His eyes roamed over you hungrily, the anticipation building as you felt the heat of his desire in his touch. Every sensation amplified, your body responding eagerly to his every move, you gasped into the silence of the room when his fingers finally filled you, buried to the knuckle, as he began to pump them in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. You leaned back against the desk on your elbows, head thrown back in pleasure, rutting your hips against him to encourage a faster speed. 

Suddenly, you felt a sharp thwack against the fat of your thigh, his hand coming down hard and grabbing at the tender flesh. "Stay still. Don't be so fuckin' impatient, damn," he scolded, his voice a low growl, the command making your throat burn. The sting of his slap mingled with the pleasure from his fingers, heightening your arousal as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes bore into yours, a dominance there that made your pulse race even faster. The room seemed to spin as you struggled to obey, your body craving more even as you tried to remain still under his intense scrutiny.

"Maybe I should fire you. Can't take a simple instruction, can you? What use are you to me?" he taunted, his words cutting through you in a deliciously cruel way. The sting of his tone only deepened your need, a twisted thrill running through you at his harsh command. His fingers continued their slow, torturous rhythm, and you fought to keep still, every fibre of your being wanting to both submit to and defy him.

You bit your tongue, staring up at the office ceiling. There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew it would only lead to arguments and, ultimately, not getting what you craved. So, you stayed silent. Instead, you adjusted yourself, laying your back flat against the desk and wriggling slightly when a stapler dug into your hip.

Once you settled, you slid one hand down your body until you reached the bunched-up skirt. Hooking two fingers around your panties, you pulled them aside to give him better access. The rush of cool, air-conditioned air hitting your hot pussy sent a shiver up your spine as you bared yourself completely to him. You watched his reaction, noting the way his eyes clouded, his breath catching slightly at the sight of you exposed and vulnerable before him.

The desk felt cold and hard beneath you, a stark contrast to the heat building between your legs. Every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation, the raw need to be touched and filled consuming your thoughts. The only sounds the hum of the air conditioner and the ragged breathing shared between you. You could feel his gaze like a physical touch, every second of his hesitation adding to the delicious torment.

As you lay there, fully exposed and waiting for his next move, your heart pounded in your chest. The thrill with Lee was always in the battle of wills, the way you both enjoyed the shifting power dynamic. Each moment was a tantalizing dance of dominance and submission, need and restraint.

You knew the hold you had over him, a card you kept close to your chest and only played when necessary. Yet, you loved watching him fall apart for you. His tough exterior and harsh words melted away in these intimate moments, revealing a vulnerability that was yours to command.

You could see the internal struggle on his face, the conflict between his need to dominate and the pleasure he derived from you taking what you wanted. It was a delicate balance, one you both played to perfection. As he finally leaned in, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous rhythm, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that in this intricate dance, you held the upper hand.

His nose to your pussy, he breathed you in deeply, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness.  You arched your back slightly, simultaneously grinding down onto his fingers and pressing into the bridge of his nose, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intense connection between you two.

His hand tightened on your thigh, a silent command for you to stay still, but the gleam in his eyes as he looked up at you told you he relished your defiance. The raw desire in his gaze, the possessiveness of his touch, everything about this moment was intoxicating. As his fingers continued their relentless teasing, you felt the tension building, the delicious anticipation of what was to come.

Lee groaned at the sight of you, soaking wet and dripping just for him. Ever since his first taste, he couldn't get enough. He had lost his mind when you came on his tongue for the first time, practically riding his face to get the pressure exactly where you needed it. Lee loved that you used him for your own pleasure and revelled in using you for his, only to go about his day as if he hadn’t just had you bent over his desk and buried himself deep inside you.

His fingers quickened their pace, sliding in and out of you with practiced ease, each movement eliciting a soft moan from your lips. He watched you intently, his eyes dark with lust as you ran one hand over the swell of your breasts, pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of your blouse just hard enough to send a jolt down to your core. The scent of your arousal filled the air, mingling with the faint smell of your perfume and the cigarette that he had moments before approaching you in the cafeteria, creating an intoxicating blend that drove him wild.

"You like this, don't you?" he muttered, his voice low and rough. "Being spread out on my desk, ready for me to take you whenever I want."

You responded with a gasp, your hips lifting to meet his hand, craving more of the exquisite friction he provided. His other hand gripped your thigh tightly, his thumb brushing against your sensitive skin, adding to the whirlwind of sensations overwhelming you.

It excited him, made him hard when he thought about how no one knew what you let him do to you, and how they couldn’t do anything about it even if they did find out. The secrecy added a tantalizing edge to every encounter, an illicit thrill that made his pulse quicken.

The added twist of your brother, although messier, made it even more exhilarating. The rivalry with Neal meant that fucking you felt like a personal victory over the Vice Principal. Each time he had you, it was as if he was asserting his dominance, winning a private battle that only he understood.

Lee loved to win, and every stolen moment with you was a triumph. The thrill of conquest and the raw, unrestrained passion between you made his blood sing, fuelling his desire and solidifying his need to claim you again and again.

Sometimes, after coming down from your post-coital rendezvous in his office or under the bleachers, Lee would think that perhaps he didn't only love to win, but maybe loved you too. In those quiet moments, when the heat of passion had cooled and reality seeped back in, he felt a flicker of something deeper. Then, he'd light a cigarette, the sharp scent of tobacco filling the air, and shake his head, reminding himself that there were only three things he truly cared for in life—power, secrecy, and reputation.

You played a significant role in all of these. Your illicit encounters fuelled his sense of control, the thrill of secrecy added spice to his otherwise calculated life, and maintaining his pristine reputation meant everything to him, which he couldn't do without your cooperation. But no matter how good your pussy felt, he couldn't let you overshadow his priorities. He repeated this in his mind like a mantra as he leant forward, and licked a hot stripe up the expanse of you with the flat of his tongue.

"Lee," you mewled, the hand not on your breast moving to tangle in his frosted tips as he hooked your legs over his shoulder. His mouth was hot on you again, his tongue flicking back and forth as it lapped up the juices weeping from where his fingers were fucking into you. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

His fingers moved in a steady rhythm, matching the pace of his tongue, driving you closer to the edge with every stroke as you muffled his moans. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of his touch, and he responded by pressing deeper, his growl vibrating against your sensitive skin.

Every nerve in your body was alight, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His grip on your thigh tightened, holding you in place as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. The combination of his fingers and tongue was driving you wild, your moans growing louder as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy.

When his nose nudged your sensitive nub, you cried out into the room. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed, his mouth leaving you but his fingers continuing their relentless assault. Whispered apologies fell from your lips as you writhed against the desk. He dipped his head again, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You felt him smirk against you, fully aware that what he was doing made it nearly impossible for you to stay quiet. The pressure of his mouth and the skilful movement of his fingers pushed you to the edge, each sensation amplified by the need to stifle your sounds.

Your whispered apologies turned to desperate pleas as he curled his fingers inside you, stroking with precision. You keened at the pleasure, rolling your hips to seek it again and again, your body completely at his mercy.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of command and encouragement. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with his fingers as they worked you open. The sensations were overwhelming, each stroke and flick sending you spiralling closer to your climax.

Your body responded eagerly, muscles tensing and releasing as waves of pleasure threatened to course through you. "Ride my face," he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice adding to the intensity as his nails dug into your thigh, not holding you still this time but instead encouraging you to grind against him. "Go on, you know I want it. Don't hold back." His words were both a challenge and an invitation, urging you to take what you needed without hesitation.

With a few final, desperate rolls of your hips, you surrendered to the building pleasure, letting it crash over you in powerful bursts. Your climax tore through you, leaving you breathless and trembling, the room echoing with the sounds of your release. Your body convulsed, your swollen cunt clenching around his fingers and soaking them with a gush of juices that seeped down to the desk below.

Lee worked quickly, lapping up every bit of your release from you as the last of the shockwaves wracked your limp body. He kissed and nipped lightly at your thighs before drawing back to take your hands in his, pulling you up like a rag doll to sit before him. You slumped forward, resting your hands on his shoulders as he captured your lips in a heated kiss.

You sighed at the taste of yourself on his warm lips, his hands slinking around your waist to pull you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through his clothes. His kiss was intense, filled with raw hunger as he moaned against your lips, and you responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your shirt to feel the warmth of your skin. The connection between you was electric, every touch and kiss reigniting the fire between you. You could feel his need, his desire to take you, and it matched your own as you rocked against him, swallowing his gasp with your kiss.

Your mind was still reeling from the high, your attention fixated on pulling Lee closer, savouring the taste of yourself on his lips. The office door opening went unnoticed, and your brother's booming voice didn't register until Lee abruptly pushed you off his lap, sending you sprawling onto the carpeted floor.

Disoriented, you clung to the edge of the mahogany desk, its polished surface slick under your fingers. You pulled yourself up and peeked over the wood, willing yourself to focus. There stood your brother, his face a mask of fury, his eyes blazing with anger. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound reverberating through the room. "What the hell is this?" he demanded, his voice like thunder, one hand clenched at his side and the other gripping his ornate cane tightly. 

"Gamby, I wasn't expecting you," Lee greeted with a forced smile, his fingers smoothing down the creases in his tie as he rose from his seat. His posture was stiff, tension evident in every movement. "Swift must have a damn death wish," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and edged with frustration. You winced at his words, feeling the sting of his disapproval.

"I sent Miss Swift on lunch," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to explain. You glanced up at Lee, his expression steely as he looked down upon you, a harsh glare that made you feel even smaller. You mouthed your apology, hoping to diffuse the tension, but the atmosphere in the room was thick with unease. The weight of your brother's stare was almost unbearable, and you could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" Neal said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he drew both your attentions back to him. "Should I step outside so you can continue fucking my sister?" His voice was raised, face flushed, and you could see the prominent vein on his neck pulsing, a clear sign of his fury whenever he got worked up.

"What?" Lee asked, his voice taking on a jovial tone, though his smile faltered briefly. "Don't be an idiot, Gamby, I'm not fucking your sister," he reasoned, raising his hands in a placating gesture while nodding for you to get up from the floor.

Quickly, you adjusted your skirt, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You grabbed a manila folder that had fallen during the chaotic moment, clutching it tightly as if it could provide some semblance of reason. Rising to your feet, you held the folder up to Neal, trying to steady your shaking hands. "She was just helping with filing," Lee added, his voice smooth and reassuring but Neal's furious eyes remained fixed on him, scepticism etched across his face.

"Cut the bullshit, Russell! You've still got my sister's lady essence all over your goddamn mouth," Neal shouted in disgust, motioning to his own mouth with his hand. The air of pretence dropped from Lee's face as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at your brother with disdain.

You placed a hand on Lee's arm, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you looked between the two men. "Can we behave like adults about this, please?" you implored, hoping to bring some sense of calm to the escalating situation. 

Neal shrugged, eyebrows raised as he looked at you with disappointment written all over his face. "I just can't believe you're gonna break Mama's heart like this."

"Excuse me? What's Mama got to do with this?" you snapped, feeling a surge of frustration.

"Well, doesn't she have a right to know her only daughter has been defiled by a fuckin' leprechaun?" Neal shot back, his voice dripping with contempt.

"We're the same height, motherfucker," Lee interjected, his irritation clear as he stepped out from behind the desk, trying to defend himself.

"Russell, I swear to God if you do not point that thing somewhere else," Neal threatened, grabbing a cushion from the sofa beside him. He chucked it at Lee, who quickly caught it and held it over the bulging tent in his pants, his jaw tight.

He fixed Neal with a threatening glare. "Gamby, you need to understand that your sister is a grown woman with her own sexual desires, and I happen to be the one fulfilling those desires—really fulfilling them," he stressed, his smirk widening into a taunting grin. The words hung in the air, dripping with provocative intent. Neal's face contorted with disgust, his fist clenching at his sides. The tension between the two men was palpable, a volatile mix of anger and defiance that seemed ready to explode at any moment as they stared at each other from across the room.

"Lee, stop it," you said, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket but his eyes didn't move from Neals. You looked at your brother who pointed his cane to Lee, challenging him, and you sighed. "Neal, if you breathe a word of this to Mama, I'll tell her about Ms. Abbot giving you a sloppy in the supply closet," you threatened, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Neal's eyes snapped to you, then back to Lee, who held his hands up, his last ditch attempt at a gesture of innocence. Neal's face turned a shade redder, his fury momentarily replaced by shock and embarrassment as he dropped his cane back to his side. The balance of power shifted slightly, giving you a sliver of hope that the situation might be salvaged.

"You told her that? That's private, confidential information, Russell," Neal spat, his voice dripping with betrayal as he glared at Lee. "Just a couple of snakes in the grass, the pair of you."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "You know what? I've got a class to teach," you said, dropping the folder onto the desk with a thud. You moved towards the door, your steps purposeful. As you passed Neal, you paused, meeting his furious gaze with a calm steadiness. "I'll see you later at Janelle's race," you told him, hoping that by then he'd have somewhat gotten over this, although you knew it was going to take more than an afternoon for your stubborn brother to accept it.

He looked down at you, his demeanour wavering as you placed a hand on his arm. "I hope you wash the scent of shame from your body before you arrive," he said, his dramatic tone making you laugh despite the tension.

"Good to see you up and around, butthead," you said softly, giving his arm a light pat before reaching for the door. You turned back and glanced toward Lee, who was now slumped back in his chair with a pout on his face, still holding the cushion over his lap. You gave him a small wave. He rolled his eyes and shooed you away with a brush of his hand, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. 

As you stepped out of the office, you drew a deep breath, relieved to be out of the suffocating room. You knew that the repercussions of this encounter were far from over, but for now, you had other responsibilities to attend to, and the chaos of the moment would have to wait.

As you left, the muffled sounds of Lee and Neal arguing drifted through the door. You walked past Miss Swift, who had now returned to the reception area, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I'd give them a moment," you told her, offering a small, knowing smile. Miss Swift nodded, her curiosity momentarily subdued, and you continued on your way, grateful to put some distance between yourself and the tumultuous scene you had left behind.

Hours later, as you sat at your desk watching your students during the afternoon pop quiz, you felt your phone buzz in the pocket of your skirt. The room was quiet except for the scratching of pencils on paper and the occasional rustle of paper. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, you discreetly pulled out your phone. The soft glow of the screen lit up your face as you saw the notification. You couldn't help but smile to yourself at the message, the tension from earlier in the day easing slightly.

Lee: Your brother's a little bitch. My least favourite Gamby.

You stifled a chuckle, biting your lip as you imagined the irritated look on Lee's face while typing the message. Moments later, another message arrived.

Lee: ❤️

The unexpected emoji made your heart skip a beat. You glanced up to ensure your students were still focused on their quiz, then allowed yourself a brief moment to savour the warm feeling spreading through your chest. You tucked your phone away, the smile lingering on your lips as you tried to refocus on your students, your mind still replaying the texts long past the bell.