#each with their own memories of working on it. i wonder what goes on in their minds when they do so

[itneverendshere]

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺

warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him

you did it without thinking.

it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.

rafe.

the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you. 

this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.

you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.  

but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.

except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again. 

your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?

and if he isn’t?

there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already. 

you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.

you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.

holy fuck.

your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.

what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago. 

for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.  

should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.

“i can hear you breathing.”

panic sets in. 

summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there. 

you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”

his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones. 

“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”

you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?

“i didn’t run?”

his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”

the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?

“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“

“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.

you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 

“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”

his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.

“hey, sweetheart, this is me.”  his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”

but he’s not your rafe anymore.

that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him. 

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.

"yeah..."

rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”

if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.

you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view. 

you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.

"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“

rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal. 

"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”

“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“

his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”

tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."

“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.

“it was! i’m a shitty person.”

his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”

“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”

the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.

he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.” 

rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”

without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.

“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”

“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”

you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.

“i have a date.”

a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations. 

rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”

but you only sob harder.

"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”

but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe. 

"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”

but you are. at you. at him.

the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.

you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.

"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"

it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.

rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”

“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”

his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed. 

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.

"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."

but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.

"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."

you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them. 

it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing. 

“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”

it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.

and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.

“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”

for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say. 

and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.

and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more. 

[tropes-and-tales]

The Softest in the World

Day 15:  Fingering (Dave York x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event found here! Is it April? Yes. Am I that far behind in posting that it's April and I'm still working through Kinktober requests? Also yes.) 

CW:  Smut (Fingering; talk of masturbation; oblique talk of vague future sex acts); 18+ only.

Word Count:  4102

AN:  This is a sequel to this, and it was requested for Kinktober by an anon!

AN2: Never edited, never beta'ed. I live and die by my slopping typing.

The first Christmas without Carol goes far better for Dave than he ever thought it would.  Of course he misses his wife, nearly a year out from her sudden death.  Molly and Alice miss their mother too.  But the immediate grief—that sharp, cutting pain that left them breathless and stunned—has faded into a more mellow sorrow.  Ever-present, but it doesn’t take Dave out at the knees anymore.

He knows he owes much of his family’s collective healing to you, the nanny he hired months after Carol died.  You’re the one who stepped in and took charge of their lives.  You never tried to replace Carol, but you’ve managed their day-to-day moments and their larger healing.

This first Christmas was your idea too.  A month in Vermont, away from the family home where memories may have been too thick and pressing to allow for any joy.  It had proved out to be a great idea too:  long days sledding and snow-shoeing and building snow forts leave the girls exhausted by evening, too tired to ruminate about their missing mother.

And it allows Dave more time with you.

Usually you only live at the York home when he’s traveling.  You handle their lives at home—drive the girls to and from school, to and from activities.  You handle the maid who comes in twice a week to clean.  You keep the refrigerator full, get the girls bathed and put to bed with a story and a hug each night.  But Dave is never there to see it—when he returns home from his work trips, you leave for your own apartment.

This month in Vermont?  You sleep in the room just down the hallway from him.  You share a bathroom with him, leave behind the scent of your shampoo and soap after you shower.  He hears you each night when you, like clockwork, pad out into the kitchen for a glass of water that you gulp down until you’re breathless.

More than all of that, he has front row seats to how you care for his girls.  You’re tough but fair.  You cut them plenty of slack, grieving as they are, but you don’t allow them to run roughshod over you.  You play with them, you teach them, and you genuinely seem to love them…and they genuinely love you as well.

Him, though?  Dave can’t seem to get a bead on you when it comes to him.  Your ease with the girls disappears the moment the two of you are alone.  You can’t always meet his eye line.  You flinch away from him if he brushes against you.  Sometimes he wonders if you can sense his former double life—if you have some preternatural prey response to being so close to a predator.  But more than once, he’s caught you watching him on the sly.  He’s noticed your heavy-lidded eyes, the way you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

When he cornered you in the hallway a few days earlier, he definitely noticed how your breathing quickened.

Maybe you can sense his killer nature, but Dave would also guess that you are attracted to him.  And knowing what he does of your character, you probably feel conflicted about that.  Guilty.  Maybe even a cliché, the nanny falling for the widowed father of her charges.

If Dave has taken one lesson from Carol’s death, though, it’s this:  life is short, and life can end in a blink.  Why not live while you can?

-----

The day before Christmas is spent in a nearby town.  You plan it, of course, and you layer in fun stuff with all the errands you have to run and make it a family affair.  You take the girls ice skating at a nearby pond.  Dave stands along the rink’s edge and watches you take lazy circles on the ice, Molly’s and Alice’s mittened hands firmly in yours until they get comfortable on their own.  Then you skate over to him, and the two of you watch in silence.

Then there’s hot chocolate at a nearby café, last minute presents for the stockings, and the grocery store.  You return to the cabin laden with bags, and the evening flies by.  You and the girls make flat breads for dinner, and afterwards, you put on a Christmas movie while the girls put the finishing touches on the tree Dave bought earlier in the month.

Dave helps the girls with their evening baths.  He gets them tucked into bed, reads them a story.  He presses a kiss to each of their foreheads, and they are out like a light before he’s even quietly clicking their bedroom door shut behind him.

As he’s been tending to his daughters, you’ve tidied up in the kitchen and living room, and now you’re pulling the wrapped gifts from their hiding spot in the hallway closet to arrange them under the tree.

At the sound of his footfall, you glance up and offer him a smile.

“They out already?” you ask.

Dave chuckles.  “Before I even left the room.”

You smile, brush the back of your hand across your forehead, miming hard work.  “It’s exhausting work, trying to exhaust them.”

“And you manage to do it every time.”  He joins you near the tree, kneels down beside you.

“Sometimes I make them run laps at home,” you reply with a laugh, and maybe you don’t notice your casual use of the word home, but Dave notices.

Dave notices everything.

He noticed, for example, how you stood by him at the skating rink, perfect posture and a tension radiating off of you when Dave moved close enough for his coat to brush against yours.  He noticed the way you ducked your head at the café, how you pretended not to hear the women who sat nearby and remarked on the lovely little family that you, Dave, and the girls made.

He notices now how you lean away from him just a fraction, how you start when his fingers touch yours each time he hands you a wrapped gift to place.  He notices that you won’t look at him, that you keep your gaze carefully fixed on the presents or the tree.  He crowds you closer, plays dumb about it, and he notices when the pink tip of your tongue darts out and licks a wet line along your lower lip. 

Part of Dave—the dark part of him, the predator in him—wants to grip your face between his hand and force you to look at him.  He wants to hold your gaze until it’s too much for you; he wants to stare at you until you squirm and beg him to let you go.  And then he wants to not let you go, your begging futile—he wants to hold you tighter and lean in and draw his own tongue along that bitable lower lip of yours.

He keeps that part of him at bay.  He knows he has to go slow.  Slow movements.  You freeze around him, but if he comes on too strong or too fast, you’ll bolt.  He needs to quiet that prey instinct, make you feel safe.  Alleviate your guilt, if you have any, at being attracted to a widower.

So Dave decides to seduce you instead. 

When you reach for the next gift, he instead grasps your wrist lightly.  He can feel your pulse against his grip, and he hears the breath you draw in.  He holds you like that until you have the courage to look at him, and he smiles at you to put you at ease.

“I’ll finish up,” he tells you, his voice low.  “Why don’t you go get a bottle of wine and some glasses?  We can have a drink on the couch.”

You hesitate…then nod.  It shouldn’t be a turn-on, but Dave loves the hesitancy, then the obedient way you stand up and do exactly as he says.  It’s not hard for him to imagine other things he could order you to do, the same uncertainty before you obey him.

-----

The wine is Moscato-adjacent.  It’s one of those local vintages made with fruits other than grapes, and far too sweet for Dave’s taste, but you had picked it out at the grocery store, so he sips it carefully and hides his winces when the cloying sweetness burns against the back of his throat.

You?  You nearly gulp it down, and he realizes how nervous you are to be here:  alone on a couch beside him, the room dark except for the lit-up Christmas tree and the crackling fire in the fireplace.  It’s romantic, but you’re his employee, and he swears he can feel you flailing out of your depths to find yourself in this moment.

“Easy,” he says.  He stills your hand when you reach for the bottle.  You’ve bolted down the first glass so fast, and Dave doesn’t want you drunk.  He doesn’t even want you tipsy.  He wants just the barest bit of your nerves soothed, but he wants you fully in control of yourself. 

He wants you to be completely, stone sober when you beg him.

“Slow down,” he continues.  “You don’t want to overdo it.”

You laugh, a nervous giggle that spills out of your mouth, and you start to say, “I just…” but you trail off, don’t finish the sentence. 

What were you going to say, Dave wonders?

I just am nervous.

I just think this is too much.

I just think it’s wrong.  It’s too soon.  It’s too complicated.  It’s too unseemly.  What will people think, if anyone ever finds out?

“It’s okay.”  He says it soothingly.  He eases your empty glass out of your other hand, and he sets it down along with his own mostly-full glass, but he does it with one hand—his other, he keeps wrapped around your wrist, unwilling to break his hold on you.

“Mr. York…”  You start, and he hears the nerves in your voice.  He hears the wobble in your words, the faint tremor, but he also swears he can hear desire too—a huskiness to your voice, the slightest rough edge.  And you squirm in your seat, just a bit, but you don’t try to pull away from him.

“Mister York?  Since when did I become Mister?”  It shouldn’t be so hot, you calling him that, formal with the tremble in your words, but then you breathe out his first name—Dave—and you draw it out, and that’s even hotter.

His hand on your wrist, he pulls you to him, tugs your upper body towards him, and you let him.  You go willingly, but your eyes widen.  In shock?  Fear?  Lust?

“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs, his face inches from yours.  “If you don’t, say so now, and we’ll forget it ever happened.”

The tip of your tongue darts out, licks nervously against your lower lip.  “It’s just…”  You take a breath, try again.  “It’s just complicated.”

“That’s not a yes or a no, baby.”

You huff and offer him a tremulous smile at his use of a nickname, so he adds, “it’s a simple question.”

You hesitate, and Dave wonders if you’re really conflicted about it.  If you’re weighing how your life will change depending on how you answer…

…or if you just don’t want to seem eager, because you nod, then whisper “yes, I do want this,” and when he bridges the remaining distance between you, you’re right there, ready and eager to slot your mouth over his, to part your lips to his searching tongue, to cup his stubbled face with your free hand.

-----

Other men might take you then and there.  They might claim you right on the couch, in front of a dying fire and a Christmas tree sparkling with lights.  They might rush it, make it some sweaty, sad fumble, then parting to each slink to separate bedrooms.

Dave York has always enjoyed the long game.  If he were a game hunter, he would enjoy it better to sit in a tree stand for hours before dawn.  He would relish the cool planning, the stalking, the calculating and recalibrating as needed.

Dave York doesn’t fuck you just yet.  He wants to give you a taste, just a morsel, because he wants you slavering for it.  He wants you looking at him with those wide eyes, that lower lip caught between your teeth, as you beg him for more.

So this night, he only pushes you gently back against the couch as he kisses you.  He lowers himself onto you—lets you feel the weight and heft of his body against yours, lets you feel how he can press you into the couch with his weight.  He lets you feel the length of his growing erection where it presses against your hip, and each little whimper makes him harder.

He kisses you deeply—tastes the glass of Moscato you gulped down, tastes the sweetness of you beyond the tart, sweet wine.  He slides his tongue against yours, licks the inside of your mouth, and he smiles inwardly when you shyly try to do the same.  You are mostly led by him but there’s little movements—your tongue pressing back against his, say, or the upward press of your hips as you search for friction—where you try to lead too.

He braces himself with one hand, which allows the other to roam free.  He cups your flushed face, feels the heat of your blushing.  He draws his hand down, traces a path down your neck, circles his palm there, feels how much he can fit in the span of one palm.  Not because he likes choking—he’s never been into breathplay or anything so risky, but he does like the tame feel of his hand partially around your neck with the feel of your pulse and the ragged breaths you pull in.

Then lower.  He grasps the softness of your breast, and even through the sweater and bra, he can feel your pebbled nipple.  He brushes the pad of his thumb over it, back and forth, and it makes your hips lift up again…and then you groan when you find nothing to meet you, no friction and no touch.

“Be patient,” he whispers in your ear.  He nips at your lobe, darts his tongue against the whorl of your ear, and you whimper at the sensation of his hot breath fanning over you.

He moves his free hand lower still.  He finds the hem of your sweater, snakes his hand under it.  Then he finds the waistband of your leggings.  He sends up a silent prayer that he gets to live in a time and place where leggings are a thing—no tricky buttons or zippers, just an elastic waistband so easy to slip his hand under, and he cups your mound through the soft cotton of your panties.  Dave chuckles near your ear, then lifts his head to look at you because you’re already wet there, the damp cotton cleaving to you as he skates his fingers over you.

“Bad girl,” he whispers.  “Getting wet for your boss.”

He’s watching you as he says it, and he sees the flash of hurt that crosses your face before your pupils get wider and your lips part, as you breathe out a heavy breath.  You’re such a good girl; Dave obviously vetted you before ever letting you into his girls’ lives.  Straight A student, honors, full ride in college.  Not even a speeding ticket in your history.  He bets you’ve never been called bad, never been a bad girl, and it seems to hurt you for a beat before you embrace this tamest step outside of your erotic comfort zone.

Dave has so many more steps he wants to lead you on.  He wants to take your hand in his and lead you into darker, deeper waters.  He imagines spanking you, binding you, blindfolding you.  He imagines twisting your innate desire to please into something sensual; he imagines training you to greet him on your knees.  He imagines rewarding you, calling you a good girl instead, fucking you senseless until you are left overstimulated and weeping, ruined for any other cock but his.

“Is this just from right now?” he continues, and he strokes you through your soaked panties, feels how they are molded to your folds and cleft.  “Or have you been thinking about this?”

“I don’t—”

“Tell me.”  He pinches you lightly—not enough to hurt, but the sensation pulls a gasp from you, and your hand flies up to grasp his bicep where his bracing arm is near your head.  “Tell me why you’re so wet.”

“I’ve been thinking about this.”  It comes out a whisper, barely audible.  Tinged in shame, and that’s the first thing Dave will burn out of you.  Guilt.  Shame.  He’ll break you down and tear those useless emotions out of you.

“When?”  Another light pinch, another gasp.  Your hand grips his arm harder, and Dave will see dusty little bruises there in the morning.

“Since….ah, since a while.”  Another pinch, and you add, “over the summer.”

The summer.  When Dave was around more due to his busy period at word dying off.  When Dave ran each morning and returned home to find you cleaning up the breakfast mess, when he shed his sweaty shirt and walked through the house on his way to shower.  When he pretended not to notice the way your eyes followed him each step, and when he pretended like he needed a glass of cold water, shirtless, that he drank down in your eye line.

Bad girl indeed.

“You touch yourself to the thought of me?”  Here he moves his hand, shifts it to slip under the lacy band of your panties, and he’s delighted to feel a strip of damp curls there, happy that you haven’t shaved or waxed yourself bare.  He drags his fingers through them, then finds your clit, slick and swollen, and he touches you lightly there.  Strums you with his thumb and chuckles at the keening whine that tears out of your throat.

“Answer me.  You touch yourself, thinking about me?”

“….yes.”

“Like this?”

“S-sometimes.”

“Not every time?”

You fix him with a pleading look, but you’re barely able to hold his gaze for long.  When he brushes his lips over your cheekbone, he can feel how hot your face is.  This is a challenge to you, possibly humiliating, but also arousing because you continue to lift your hips, chasing the touch you’re desperate for.  Such a soft little thing, the softest in the world, and yet you’ve been touching yourself to the thought of him.

Dave stills his hand, and he chuckles again at the groan of disappointment you make.  “Tell me or I stop.”

You swallow, nod.  “Sometimes I…I have a vi…a vibrator.”

He can imagine it; a sad little tucked-away piece of silicone or plastic.  You probably pull it out in the darkness of your room, ashamed at pleasuring yourself.  You probably bury it under your socks and blush when your hand brushes against it when you’re putting laundry away.

He hums, considers the mental image that rises to his mind.  Your legs spread under the covers, running the toy over your clit, maybe pushing it inside you.  Imagining it was him instead.

Not that different from the times he’s gripped his own cock, stroked himself in the shower or in his room and pretended it was you instead of his hand.

Dave could demand to know your fantasies.  He could make you tell him what scenarios you’ve used to get off to him.  Him bending you over the kitchen counter?  Him fucking you in the shower?  Him sneaking into your bedroom at night, sliding under the covers and slipping his already-hard cock into your tight little pussy?  He could make you blush harder and demand to know these things, but he wants to take this slow, so he kisses you instead, murmurs his thanks, calls you a good girl for answering his questions, and when your face lights up at the praise, Dave pushes one thick finger into you and draws the sweetest, throatiest groan from you.

Other men might take you then and there, but Dave only finger-fucks you.  He goes so slow, eases it out, pushes it back in so you feel every goddamned bit of him entering you.  He keeps his thumb firm on your clit, and just the pressure makes you whimper each time he presses a little harder.

He adds a second finger and feels the delicious stretch as your pussy cedes to him.  You’re unbelievably warm, slick, and your pussy twitches and pulses around him each time he breeches the confines of your body.  It’s tight, but you’re nervous, and each bit of praise—good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, just relax and let me make you feel good, baby—makes you unclench a bit more.  You relax, and you find the rhythm that he fingers you, and you lift your hips to meet his fingers.

When he adds a third finger, you hiss at the thickness of it, the tight fit.  He stills, watches your face for any pain, and when he doesn’t see any, he continues.

Three fingers is a good start to preparing you for his cock, he thinks.  He imagines the feel of pushing into you, mounting you, and he imagines your fingers digging into his shoulders as he bottoms out in you.

In due time.  Now he fingers you, he scissors his fingers inside you and feels the answering throb in his erection each time you whine or whimper or groan, the sweetest symphony of sounds he’s able to pull from you.  When he starts circling your clit with his thumb, when he crooks his fingers inside you, pressing gently until he finds the spot that makes you gasp out his name, but you call him Mister York again, and it unlocks something inside him, the power you’re letting him have over you.  He dips his head and sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, right at the pulse point, and you gasp again.  Your other hand flies up and cradles the back of his head, and you twist your fingers through his hair, but you don’t pull him away—you hold him there, and he licks against the dimpled marks he’s left in your skin, he breathes against the wet line on your neck, and he’ll see a lurid bruise there in the morning too that will make him instantly hard.

“You’re going to come for me,” he growls against your neck.  “You’re going to be a good girl and come when I tell you.”

And his mind boggles at the possibilities with you because you do exactly as he says.  You nod at his order, and you press your hips in time to his searching fingers, and he feels when your orgasm approaches because you lose much of your embarrassment.  You swear in a hoarse whisper against his head—oh fuck, D-Dave, fuck fuck fuck, I’m close, I’m gonna, oh, don’t stop—and you spread your legs wider to make room for his hand, and the lurid sound of his hand working against your wetness doesn’t seem to even register to you.  The entire living room smells like sex and you don’t care, and when you gasp and buck your hips up into his hand, he feels your orgasm break around you:  the pulse of your cunt gripping his fingers, the hot slick of cum that coats his hand, the way your body shakes under his.

He fingers you through it.  He draws out your pleasure until you shove at him lightly, tell him it’s too much, and he stops.  He feels the tension of your orgasm—the arching body, the trembling—leave you, and you lay underneath him, sated and heavy with your release.

Dave draws his hand out from under your clothing, and he straightens the hem of your sweater where it rode up a bit.  Then he fixes you with an unblinking stare and lifts his hand to his mouth, and he smiles at your shocked expression as he licks his fingers clean.  Then, with the taste of you on his lips, he lowers his head and kisses you again—deep and slow, so you can taste yourself too.

“Good girl,” he tells you when he breaks the kiss.  “You’re going to be such a good girl for me.”

[bunnybunbun0]

renaissance

summary: because Paul Atreides was a piece of art in bed.

pairing: Paul Atreides X fem!reader

warnings: smut,porn without plot,

A/N: with the hype of dune part two being released i finally got my shit together and watvhed part one years later and oh.my.god. Seeing timmy play a serious important yet loving duke just rocked me a bit. i hope you guys like this!

sorry its short i wasnt planning on writing it,it just came t mind.not proofread,we die like real man. english is not my first language so be kind!

you are responsible for your own media comsumption! :)

credits to gif owner!

Paul Atreides was undoubtly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

And after stumbling upon a book on what ancient civilizations considered art,you were even more convinced he was god´s most wonderful creation.

When he pants on top of you while fiercifully thrusting into your soaked slit,his black curls clinging to his pale skin with a sheer of sweat;a beautiful contrast with his dark hair and white skin.

The sounds leaving the back of his throat are a sweet melody to your ears; the gutural grunts,the ocasional moan,the pants of your name,the filthy things he whispers in your ears.

You were fully convinced paul was the most beautiful work of art youve ever seen,he was ethereal,every trace of his was brushstroke,you lost yourself staring into the honey galaxies of his eyes.

"What are you thinking about that is more important than my cock inside you right now?"

His dirty question gets you out of your head;a long whimper scaped you at how dirty his words were,you tried your best to focus on answering his question,but between his cocktip brushing your sweet spot so deliciously,the force of his hips meeting yours,and the sinful noises that filled the room,all you could do in response was moan and whine.

He lowers his head to your neck,sucking and biting the sensitive pristine skin;you shiver at the thought of being marked by his beautiful lips,having him set a clam on you.

"Answer me" he asks in a grave tone,a shiver rippling through you bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You´re beautiful!" you blabber out in a high pitched moan,not even realizing how desperate you sound or how you´re not making any sense to him right now "you´re beautiful! fuck paul,you´re so beautiful"

To say that was not what Pauls was expecting to hear was an understatement,he knew you appreciated his looks;it was clear with your lingering touches on him or how youd be amazedly watching him while he did the most mundane of tasks,but not that you liked it enough to declare it so devotedely while he was deep inside you.

He knew your body better than anyone else,and he could sense you were on the brink of an orgasm,his hand reached down rubbing sensual circles around your clit,not once slowing down his thrusts.

You unravel around him yelping and crying out as your release washed over you,your eyes shut feeling the moment where you and him become one.

A few more faltered thrusts into your now even tighter pussy,and paul was cumming inside you with a string of profanities leaving his mouth accompanied with your name.

You both stare at each for what feels like forever,breathing deeply while coming down from your highs.

Paul was a completely different person once the sexual aact was over,the kiss he pressed on your lips right now was not desperate and hurried,it was calm,soft,he treated you like the wind blow you away into a pile of sand.

He slips out of you carefully,making sure youre okay,carefully enveloping you in his arms and throwing a blanket around both their naked bodies;a confortable silence falls into the room as thetwo of you cuddle,paul lovingly stroking your arms,ocasionally kissing whatever naked skin he could get his lips on.

"You really think i´m that good looking?" he asks with the memory of you moaning out how beautiful he was mid sex stuck in his mind.

In your post orgasm clarity your mind goes back to the beautiful paintings you found on the ancient book,the delicacy of the lines,the softness of the colors and beautiful tragedies behind every piece. The sudden desire to once again tell paul how beautiful he is and make sure to know your ancient knowledge with him are overwhelming.

You sit up in the bed looking up at his face,a smile immediately meeting your lips as you look at him and decide to ask:

"Have you ever heard of Michelangelo?"

[seelestia]

✦ how can you tell? (of how easily i fall at your feet.)

⎯ oh, how love bleeds from just one gesture. ( some telltale signs that they might've fallen for you. )

#STARRING. neuvillette, wriothesley & lyney ft. gn!reader. { 2.4k words }

#TAGS. sfw, fluff & crack, major pining (!!!). more: neuvi has 1 extra part bcs i realized too late, wrio is a rascal /aff, lynette is a professional wingwoman here (everyone, applaud!!), mentions of various fontaine npc's.

#P/S. pardon my rusty writing and ideas but alas, may i entice you with some fontaine gentlemen on this fine day?? (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) ੭

★ 〜 masterlist.

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

⎯ neuvillette's love is subtle, hidden behind a veil of formal courtesy. the iudex is the nation's symbol of impartiality; personal relationships, a common factor of inciting bias in one's judgement, are to be sifted through wisely. he can choose which he ends up keeping, yet he cannot choose which he ends up wanting. what of a relationship he desires but cannot keep? a conundrum but still, his affections for you seep through the crevices.

it's in the way. . . your name becomes a beloved among the melusines, you wonder why?

it goes without saying that every citizen of fontaine acknowledges melusines to be friendly creatures. all of them are sweethearts! ...but is it you or is there some form of hidden favoritism here?

for some reason, they always seem to go out of their ways to greet you on the streets. a “hello, mx. [name]!” from the right then a “good day, mx. [name]!” from the left. maybe a “stay safe, mx. [name]!” on days when it's crowded too... you're starting to think the quota of greetings you receive is much bigger than everyone else.

before long, even your arms are getting piled up with favors. one ticket for a seat in the opera epiclese from aeife, a slice of cake from sedene, some high-quality butter from muirne, a free beverage from menthe — you lost count of the freebies you've received already.

what's going on? it is as if there's a badge of approval from someone just hanging over your head. visible to a melusine's eyes, but not to yours. (you've heard that melusines perceive things differently than humans, though.)

but who are you to complain? you're not immune to their contagious smiles each time you pass by. on some days, you even entertain the thought that they are more familiar with you than you are with them. all in a humorous sense, of course.

ironically enough, this theory wouldn't take long to ring true: having received a bouquet of your favorite dessert from café lutece on your birthday from kiara, this coincidence only feeds into your suspicion even more.

a considerate gesture but surely, they don't do this for everyone? you don't recall ever telling your usual order and birthdate to a melusine before. your mind scrambles around for a memory you might've missed. who could've—

“oh, yes... i almost forgot,” kiara holds her chin in thought. “monsieur neuvillette says to send you his regards,” she nods, relieved that the message did not make its narrow escape from her mind. but blissfully unaware of the impact her words have left on you.

“goodbye, mx. [name]!” the melusine bids you farewell with a cheery wave. you murmur back a response but it comes out incoherent at best — you are simply too dumbfounded by the realization.

...so, that's who.

(wait a second, is arouet in on this too?!)

it's in the way. . . he begins to take longer breaks, hoping to run into you in front of the palais.

taking quiet strolls just outside the palais is, more often than not, neuvillette's idea of rest from work. although some might expect the iudex to have chosen a more 'creative' or luxurious location, but he digresses.

this place is near his office so less time is wasted on the journey back, liath also patrols here so he has the opportunity to inquire about her well-being — and occasionally, he stumbles upon you as well.

'occasionally' is the keyword: neuvillette has always preferred order and routine above chances and coincidences. but something about this idiosyncrasy — the tendency to linger beyond his usual duration, the act of stalling to hold onto hope that you might pass by today — is a indication of hypocrisy he wishes not to comment on.

sometimes, he closes his eyes so that his ears may be more attuned to the sound of your voice. sometimes, he opens his eyes so that they may look around for a glimpse of your face. who's to say if he'll ever be graced by your presence? it is all in fate's hands.

call it an odd method of manifestation, a childish one that even neuvillette scoffs at himself for. sometimes, it doesn't work, of course. not that he ever expects it to — but oh, when it does.

“...monsieur?” your voice cuts through the silence in his mind. he takes the sight of you in; a polite greeting on your tongue, several grocery bags in your arms and that beam on your face as you say, “what a coincidence to see you here.”

the iudex finds that he doesn't mind having his privacy briefly interrupted. not at all. not when it's like this, not when it's by you. alas, it seems that fate has smiled down on him today.

“yes, hello. what a serendipitous coincidence indeed.”

neuvillette smiles, he can't help it. perhaps, he might grow a soft spot for coincidences, after all.

(you sneak a brief glance at the sky with a squint. ...is it just you or are the clouds clearing up a little?)

⎯ wriothesley's love is beguiling, the kind of adventure that keeps you on your toes. a forthright gentleman; he is the type to know what he wants and he wants you. with him, you'll taste whiplash like never before. butterflies in your stomach, the urge to throw a shoe at him, you'll get it all. but an adventure isn't an adventure without breaks in between and it's at that very moment where you'll find you adore him the most... when he rests his head on your lap, momentarily free from worldly titles, breathing like the man who longs for warmth that he has always been.

it's in the way. . . he always offers you tea when really, he just wants you to stay.

everyone knows that wriothesley enjoys his tea — but that's only because he sees no need to hide his preferences; not his craving for a cup of tea when afternoon arrives nor his fondness for you either.

he doesn't conceal it, but doesn't bring attention to it either. wriothesley likes to think that only those with discerning eyes can pick up on the miniscule (???) hints he drops. that is, if saying “why not stay for some tea?” is even considered a subtle clue at all... maybe, he's mixing up polite courtesy with flirting a bit too much.

but who cares? in the grand scheme of things, the fun is seeing whether you'll figure it out or not. and let's be frank here; wriothesley is a patient man in all aspects, able to play the long game like no other.

don't worry, you may take as long as you want to — ironic since you're technically the only player in this 'game' — but hey, he has faith in your abilities! besides, you get to enjoy a cup of free tea (and with his company, preferably). surely, you can't complain about that? ...hah, he's just teasing you.

tick-tock! tick-tock!

the clock strikes twelve in the afternoon.

“ah, finally a well-deserved break.” the tone in which wriothesley pairs with that grin on his face is nothing less than devious. the glance he throws your way as he set aside the documents on his desk is something. or rather, it's suggesting something.

and frankly, you've experienced this many times enough to know what the underlying meaning is. “let me guess...” you let out a sigh, “you're asking me to have tea with you again?”

the emphasis on the last word is definitely, wholly intentional. you're sure wriothesley knows that too — “bingo,” he hums at you, sounds almost like a whistle. “you're getting more and more clever. must be all the tea i made you.”

“don't flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes at his attempted jest but you take a seat on his office couch, anyway. your own unique and adorable way of saying yes, he learned. still, wriothesley thinks that exasperated look on your face is an absolute marvel... and maybe, that little smile tugging on your lips you're trying to fight, too.

“same as usual?” he asks, pushing back his chair with a proud grin still plastered on his face that you wish you can wipe off.

but instead, you shake your head fondly at his antics. “mhm,” and rest a cheek on your fist. watching him tiredly, you realize you could get used to this. maybe.

wriothesley smiles to himself. looks like you figured out the tea has always been an excuse, after all.

(you've won the game, congrats! a subsidiary reward is a comment from sigewinne about how this tea routine between the two of you bears a resemblance to an elderly human couple's. she means it, innocently sincere.)

⎯ lyney's love can be faceted at first, one with such a smooth surface that you never imagined there would be so many layers underneath. joy and bliss, sorrow and burdens; all cramped and stuffed together behind his mask of perfection on the stage, a mask akin to a child's treasure chest almost bursting at the seams. you can unravel him if you tried, you can take off that mask if you reached out. and when you do, you'll find beautiful violet eyes staring right back at you, thankful, imploring you to go further.

it's in the way. . . his bravado dissipates around you, nerves scattering like confetti that bursts from his hat on stage.

they say that the first impression is the best impression — or at least, lyney hopes that's the case with all of the interesting impressions he has left on you so far. his instinct by nature is to impress, to bedazzle and that hasn't stopped since meeting you for the first time.

trying doesn't always lead to success, however. you stuttered in front of them twice, lynette pointed out after the first time he spoke to you. that fact spooked the poor magician so much he stayed up rethinking the conversation under the cover of his blanket. lynette isn't wrong per se, but lyney firmly believes that he will leave a better impression... one day, somehow, no matter how many times it takes!

he is a magician; charisma and charms should have or rather, already have come easily to him. his persona on the stage is no lie — just a tiny concerted exaggeration, maybe — but you've been among his audience before. you've seen what he is capable of. so surely, you'd know that lyney isn't really as demure and easily flustered as you might think he is... because no punches held back, he acts like that every time you talk to him.

he can't help it and that, exactly, is what makes it worse.

how many times have he cupped his face and mumbled nonsense into his hands for failing to impress you yet again? you're so wonderful and he's just so... miserable. this is unlike him. he has to wonder why you still look for him after each performance when you know you'll be greeted by his being a wreck.

maybe they like you that way, freminet tried to help. or maybe they like you no matter what, lynette chipped in. that had lyney pondering for a long, long, long time which translates into weeks.

will the day come where he presents you with a rainbow rose and professes his feelings for you without losing his nerves? he can only hope (and try, one day).

it never gets old.

when his feet step off the stage and the curtains have fallen, the satisfaction that spreads all the way to his fingertips never fails to disappoint. but with that, also comes the imminent feeling of anticipation.

for each performance he delivers, a visitor is bound to linger. when all members in the audience would head to the entrance of the opera epiclese to leave, one of them would stay. waiting patiently to be beckoned to the backstage. it's been a routine for so long, after all.

“lyney?”

right on cue.

your voice greets his ears, a sound that he can admit he misses only to himself. he exhales, a placating act to shush his beating heart from growing any louder.

“ah, [name]!” the magician enunciates your name with a certain type of fanfare. “here to lend a hand again, i assume?” he tries to shoot you a confident grin, but you aren't gullible enough to not see the tint of red blooming on his cheeks.

you stifle a chuckle at his (attempt at a) bold opening. “of course,“ said with a nod and a silly thought along the lines of: he's cute.

your honest and calm response takes him by surprise. he blinks a tad. oh, it seems the thrill from the show a few minutes prior still hasn't worn off. perhaps, he's still all too used to the crowd's shouts and cheers... not that he expects you to start yelling, of course!

“i see,” lyney feigns a cough to recollect his composure. now that he is cognizant of the fact it's just the two of you, he shrinks down into a more casual version of himself with a nervous chuckle.

“will you... be staying for long?” he asks, bashful. the question sounds more genuine than just a mere pleasantry. his eyes look hopeful, twinkling at the thought of having your presence around. his fingers have even come up to scratch at the side of his neck, you don't think lyney even realizes he is doing that.

who are you to say no? you smile. “well, my schedule's pretty empty today.”

his lips instantly break into a grin, brighter than one he usually has onstage. “that's actually marv—” he starts.

“that's great,” a familiar monotonous voice cuts in. lynette peers from behind you with a hum, “we could use more hands to pack up the new props.” oh, and that brief glint of mischief in her feline eyes as she watches how lyney gapes at her sudden intrusion.

“sure!” you glance back at her, oblivious to it all. “thanks for letting me in, lynette. i'll try my best to help.” even if you admit that one of the reasons you're here is for lyney, but you can't discredit his twin sister for allowing you to enter here in the first place. a free backstage pass in exchange for free labor, quite a fair deal.

with your back turned to him, lyney takes the chance to mouth his own words of disbelief to lynette. incomprehensible except for that one i can't believe you're doing this! that she manages to catch.

“no problem,” she observes her brother over your shoulder with keen interest, “everyone knows how fond lyney is of you.”

there is a series of spluttering noises behind you. a certain magician finds himself at the verge of choking on mere oxygen.

“lynette!”

but really, she has no doubt that lyney has fallen head over heels for you. hook, line and sinker.

— thank you for reading! reblogs and comments are most appreciated. ♡

[euphoricfilter]

more silent love:

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au

summary: jungkook’s book of silent love

tags/ warnings: more fluff, they’re in love it’s kinda sickening, more silent ways to say i love you. i am once again sleepy and thinking of the cute kinda love

notes: part two of this fic, but can be read as a standalone :D

where you can find all my other work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

The list of silent love is a forever growing one. 

A small notebook sits on the kitchen table, one you had never bothered to pick up. Though Jungkook likes to spend quiet evenings alone, handwriting far from legible as he scribbles down each of these precious moments.

Memories set in stone as the ink seeps into flimsy paper; perfect, beautiful, love tucked between pages like his own little secret. 

As of late, the both of you spend Sunday afternoons learning how to bake bread. A new type of loaf every week, flour clinging to clothes and smiles tugging at both your lips. It had become your own personal mission to never buy bread again, taking hours out the afternoon, simply basking in the company of one another as you learn something new. 

He finds himself associating the smell of fresh bread to you. Quirk of a smile tugging at his cheeks as he walks past bakeries, fleeting memory of you in the forefront of his mind. A permanent home you've burrowed.

Jungkook, of course, likes to make you sandwiches with your homemade bread. Some mornings waking up, quietly slipping out of bed before you wake to pack you lunch, sweet little note slipped into your bag before he hears your footsteps patter out the bedroom, sluggish as you wake up. 

And on those mornings your patience wears a little too thin, the world a little too much for you to take so early in the day; Jungkook will make sure to sit you down in front of the vanity. Where he detangles your hair ever so gently. Careful as he helps you put your earrings in– he’d gotten quite good over time, learning how to match your jewellery to what you were wearing. Observant in all your favorite pieces that he knew he could never go wrong with. 

Every night as he showers, you sit yourself up on the kitchen counter, reaching for Jungkook’s favorite herbal teas. And every night, as he dries his hair, slinking into the kitchen, there will always be a tea there waiting for him.

He wonders how you’d learnt to time it perfectly. Knowing when to pour the hot water with just enough time before he gets out of the shower where the temperature is perfect. So he can easily slip under a blanket with you, your cold feet warmed up between his thighs as he sips sleepy tea and you doze off beside him. 

He’d learnt you loved when he made you heart-shaped pancakes. And as much as he always eyes the cute little pancake pans online, there will always be something slightly more rewarding about his own hand-crafted hearts that have you giggling into his mouth– lips syrup sticky and sweet. That slight effort more just to see you smile forever lighting up his life. 

He likes to watch you smile as you re-read your favourite books. Where he’d taken time out of his lunch breaks to respond to all the annotations you’d made on your first read through.

He’d glance up at you from his phone as the pen glides across the page, your own mind conjuring up replies to his questions and comments. Like that in itself was its own love language. Silent words slipped between pages of stories that aren't your own, words that only the two of you will ever see. A glimpse into your mind and in return a peek into his.

Every time he is the cause of your smile, his chest goes warm and his heart feels fluttery and light. So gooey warm and raw and lovely and so many words, so many thoughts and feelings all at once he will never be able to truly explain it in words. And maybe that’s why he likes to write down all the precious moments you share. Because that is love. The epitome of love in every sense of the word and it's meaning and yet, it's more than that.

It is your shared love in words without fancy vocabulary and poems and unheard confessions of adoration that will never leave the corners of his mind. Simply unreadable gibberish to hold each of these moments in time, cradled against his beating heart, so that even when the both of you leave this world, part of your love will live forever between the pages of that book. 

Because that's what your love is. An eternal thing that will dance between the stars after death and kiss the both of you in your graves as you blossom into new life. Sure to meet one another again no matter where you end up.

You are Jungkook's forever, even if that means he has to scour the earth to find that little notebook, to relive those memories and learn to love you the right way again.

[springwitch26]

i'm asking nicely: give me what i want (melissa schemmenti x fem!teacher!reader)

summary: you and your girlfriend make a bet about who can last the longest without sex.

warnings: nsfw themes but no smut (yet), sorta humiliation, praise, mentions of overstim and bondage and punishment, explicit language. you and melissa are gay idiots

notes: a little something for your kinktober tastes! sorry it's not the fluffiest story—i'm like mostly aromantic, so i can't write love very well. this is my first time writing with the whole abbott gang, so let me know how i did! this one goes out to the girls who love teasing, light bickering, and sexy dialogue.

it all started with a bet.

you and melissa had been dating for just under a month (publicly for two weeks), and it was pure bliss. every time she looked at you with that playful sparkle in her eyes, you wanted to melt. she cared for you in a way that never failed to warm your heart.

she was passionate, too. her touch was magic. she could just lightly graze your thigh with her fingers, and you'd be putty in her hands. and she made you feel desirable. every time you were intimate, you could tell she was hungry for you. it turned you on beyond belief.

although things were wonderful between you two, you both loved a fight. you both realized this early on, and you'd take turns starting silly arguments for the fun of it. you could never resist pushing each other's buttons.

at worst, it would end with one of you pouting and the other apologizing. at best, it would end with you bent over melissa's lap as she took her frustrations out on you, or with you between her legs making up for being mean, or with her whispering soft apologies in your ear as she bounced you on her fingers...

tonight she had you pinned against her kitchen counter, kissing her way down your neck and relishing in your high-pitched sounds of need. she had been teasing you all day, working you up into a frenzy, and you did nothing but whine about how unfair it was. you would have let it go, but that was before she said...

"you're so easy, hon." she laughed into the crook of our neck, responding to your helpless whimpers. you pulled back and looked at her with wide eyes.

"mel... i am not," you said with a pout. she stared back at you, an amused smirk playing on her lips. god, she looked beautiful like this: her red hair slightly out of place, her full chest heaving, her eyes heavy with want.

"sure you're not," she teased. "that's why your legs are trembling 'n you can barely hold yourself up after a little bit of kissing."

she kissed the tip of your nose and you blushed, knowing she was right. she pressed you harder against the counter, holding your hips with both hands. she gently pinched the skin there, silently asking if she could continue. you shook your head resolutely.

"let's make this more interesting," you said, with mischief written on your face. melissa perked up. she loved bets. "no sex until one of us gives in and asks for it."

"alright, but don't ask me to put money on it. you know i quit gamblin' after i bet ava that jacob couldn't do a backflip."

"he is surprisingly agile," you giggled at the memory. "how about... if i win, you buy me that white lingerie set we saw at the store the other day."

melissa shuddered internally at the thought of her beautiful, innocent angel in such a heavenly set. the image gave her an idea of her own.

"deal," she leaned in close, ghosting her lips over the shell of your ear. "but if i win... i get to tie your arms and legs to the bedposts and make you come over and over until you sob."

you forgot how to breathe for a moment, and your knees nearly buckled underneath you. you contemplated folding right then, but you wanted to see where this little game would lead.

"you're on, schemmenti." you shook her hand, and melissa chuckled at your attempt at a firm handshake. even her laugh got you flustered and needy. you were a goner.

---

you knew melissa would come up with some plot to make you lose the game, but you didn't expect it to happen so soon. the next morning, you and melissa were sitting at your usual table in the workroom, sipping coffee and chatting with everyone. that's when her antics started.

"hey, doll, would you mind grabbin' me another cup of coffee?" melissa asked, handing you her 'tucci on' mug and flashing that irresistibly charming smile. you took the mug from her hands and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before heading to the coffee maker.

you could feel her eyes on you as you stood up, straightening out your skirt that had ridden up a bit too far to be appropriate for school. she continued to stare you down as you poured the coffee and brought it to her. you felt breathless from the intensity of her full attention.

"that's my good girl, thank you," she practically purred when you handed her the coffee, looking up at you smugly through her glasses. you nearly dropped the mug from shock, shooting her a look. how could she be so bold in front of your coworkers? it made you blush furiously.

gregory was the first to catch on, giving an awkward side eye to the cameras at melissa's words. melissa was undeterred, taking a sip of her coffee and making an exaggerated sound of pleasure, causing you to hide your face in your hands.

"god, that hits the spot," melissa said lowly, smirking at her own innuendo. jacob and janine looked between the two of you and each other, trading curious looks.

"oh hon, your necklace is all tangled in the back," melissa said, standing up and positioning herself behind you. "let me fix it for ya."

the older woman leaned down and caressed up your arms, leaving goosebumps in her wake. her fingers then crawled from your collarbones to the back of your neck, where she knew you were sensitive. she pretended to adjust your necklace while her fingers drew lazy patterns there. that, combined with the feeling of her warmth on you after the previous night's denial, had you weak. she sat back down in her chair with a satisfied huff.

at melissa's odd behavior and your pitiful reaction, your friends put it together that something was going on. even barbara gave melissa a questioning look. still, nobody said anything. until ava entered the room. the principal took one look at your flushed face and broke the silence.

"damn schemmenti, what'd you do to this one? i figured you were into some kinky shit, but..." she trailed off.

"AVA!" janine, barbara, and melissa scolded at once. "not appropriate!" barbara added.

"fine, but y'all know i'm right," ava said. she turned to you and melissa. "you better be at happy hour tonight. this looks juicy, and i'm gonna need some entertainment besides janine's dance moves."

you tuned out janine's offended "hey!", remembering the plans for that night. happy hour. fuck. you needed a plan, and a good one.

---

you never thought you'd willingly ask for ava's help on anything, but here you were. you sat in her office with your arms folded, embarrassed to be sharing this with your boss of all people. then again, ava was the probably the only person who knew how to get the job done.

"you really think that'll work?" you asked, mulling over ava's idea.

"obviously. you gotta use that body, girl. i'm talkin' playboy bunny sexy," she scrolled on her phone as she talked, keeping up her usual disinterested demeanor.

"but... what if she's put off by it?" you wondered aloud. ava looked up from her phone and raised an eyebrow at you.

"i don't know if you've noticed, but your girlfriend's a total perv," she deadpanned. your jaw dropped and you stared at her, incredulous. "what, it's true! i see her lookin' up your skirt and down your shirt every damn day. y'all nasty."

she was right, of course. you didn't always catch it, but whenever you bent over in front of melissa, she looked ready to eat you alive. you gave in and started to plot tonight's outfit in your head.

"thanks, ava! next time i need help coming up with a scheme, i'll come to you," you said, bouncing out of the room excitedly.

"run, little lesbian bunny! go get your girl!" ava laughed to herself and went back to her phone.

---

melissa's eyes were dark and narrow, fixed on you in your special outfit. you couldn't tell if she was angry or turned on. probably both.

your clothing was tasteful, yet tantalizing: a strawberry pink crop top with a generous v-neck and white mini skirt (the one that drove mel crazy). a sheer pink slip was draped over your shoulders, giving your body a distinct glow under the bar lights. you had even dolled yourself up with makeup—soft lip gloss and glittery eyeshadow, plus classic eyeliner and mascara—and worn your favorite white heels to match. you looked out of place in the bar, like an angel wandering the earth.

you pointedly ignored melissa as she stared daggers at you. you played with your hair with one hand and held your drink with the other, dancing and talking with jacob and ava. you made sure to run your hands up and down your body while you moved to the music. jacob droned on to you about the color pink and how it's so powerful for women to reclaim it. barbara stood next to melissa, the pair leaning against the wall and trading hushed remarks.

while jacob continued to talk, you made your move. you gave ava a nudge and she nodded, then "accidentally" knocked your water out of your hand—completely soaking your shirt and a bit of your skirt. you stood up in faux shock and finally made eye contact with melissa as you palmed at your clothes (and body).

"oh godddd," you whined, dragging out the sound. two could play at that game. you walked over to melissa. "baby, can you clean me up? i know you keep napkins in your purse."

melissa was salivating. she shamelessly drank in the sight of your body all wet, your tits glistening with droplets of water. the water was icy cold, so the outlines of your nipples were visible underneath your shirt. she was almost too focused on the view to process your request, and scrambled to find the napkins in her purse once she caught up.

"uhmmm yeah, yeah, i gotcha, honey," melissa said in a rare moment of weakness.

when a napkin inevitably got lost in the shuffle and fell to the ground, you knew you had won. you bent over slowly, wiggling your ass subtly as you picked it up. you stumbled backwards as you stood back up, deliberately brushing up against her front.

"i'm so cold, mel..." you turned around, leaned even closer into her, and grabbed hold of her shirt, tracing lazy patterns on her chest to tease her. "i've got goosebumps, feel!"

you took her hand in yours and then placed it at the top of your left breast, where your heart was. the soft skin was indeed covered in goosebumps, and even more emerged when melissa started lightly massaging. she couldn't help herself. you both felt your heartbeat quicken at her touch and shared a look of understanding.

"guess we should get ya home then, huh?" melissa smiled, wrapping her arm around your waist. you nodded, nuzzling into her.

you two said goodbye to your friends before leaving the bar. ava gave you a wink and a lewd gesture as you walked out the door, making you roll your eyes. barbara rose her wine glass and nodded at melissa, giving her a silent "cheers."

---

as soon as the car door shut, melissa grabbed your thigh to get your full attention.

"i quit," she smiled. "and i'll be happy to buy you that lingerie, especially after seein' you in this pretty little number."

you beamed with pride. you had won a competition against melissa schemmenti! and you couldn't wait to enjoy your prize. seeing your face, mel's face broke into a mischievous grin.

"don't get all excited yet, sweetheart. you were pretty bratty tonight, flittin' around and makin' a fool of me in front of all our friends. i really should teach you a lesson, don't ya think?"

your breath caught in your throat as you remembered what she'd promised to do if she won. she had never punished you before. your core throbbed at the idea.

"i guess it's only fair that you get a... consolation prize," you replied sheepishly, grinning from ear to ear as you watched her face light up.

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖦹 ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: from the sweet boy you met at your cafe job to an obsessive psycho, yandere!yang jungwon goes to extreme measures to ensure that you’re his.

➳ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of food, abduction and yandere themes, swearing, violence, crying, angst, hickeys, non-con kissing and touching, nudity ~

𖦹 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4k | read pt. 2 and 3 here

"I brought you some treats! I hope you’re hungry!" Jungwon placed the woven basket of freshly made delights before you on the center of the picnic mat, his cheerful voice snatching your focus from the daunting thoughts clouding your mind.

"Thank you, Won-ah," you smiled, feigning a sense of gratitude towards his unusual gesture.

"So," he began, revealing the goodie’s hidden beneath the white cloth of the basket. "What do you think of my garden?"

"Well, it’s a change that I’ll have to learn to get used to," you admitted, too timid to meet his curious feline eyes. "My life in the city followed a work-sleep-repeat schedule," you went on. "Where I’m from, no one really cared to spend their free time outdoors. Your garden, though... it’s rather strange at best, especially considering that you’ve maintained it all by yourself."

Jungwon simply nodded in response as he arranged a few sandwiches and a bowl of sweet cream and sugar-soaked strawberries for the two of you on a sharing platter, savoring one of the bright red berries in his mouth.

"Jungwon?"

He swallowed and said, "Yes, my love?"

"Are you going to keep me here forever?"

Chirping birds in the distance temporarily filled the silence.

"Hmm… When you’re deeply in love with someone, you often like to think that time is an irrelevant variable. I would say that forever is quite a strong word, yet, a perfect one to describe my infinite love for you." His eyes lit up at the mere thought of infinity and beyond with you, the love of his life.

You nodded in response, taking a corner of one of the sandwiches Jungwon had prepared into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the soft white bread.

"I’m not much of a cook, but I tried to recreate the little sandwiches you used to make me at the cafe to the best of my ability. I remember when you recommended that I try them because they were your favorite lunch item on the menu." He smiled to himself at the memory before searching your features for any clue as to what was going on in your head.

"It’s not identical, but I almost prefer your version of the treat," you admitted, trying to mask the awkwardness between you two. "It’s sweeter. Softer. Unlike the stale bread and recycled fruit I’d make them with at the cafe,"

Jungwon chuckled in response, and your lips couldn’t help but tug upward at each corner. Deep down, you wanted to believe that somewhere in Jungwon’s twisted brain, he was the same shy and innocent boy you previously met at your cafe job on a slow Tuesday morning.

The boy you wanted to learn more about at your own pace and on your own terms.

The boy you used to dream would somehow save you from the mundane patterns of your exhausting city life.

Though, in an odd way, you got what you asked for.

"Jungwon?"

"Yes," he answered, yet asked, slightly curious about your reasons for wanting to question him again.

"Are you anything like the ‘you’ I met before all this?"

It had only been three days since Jungwon had abducted you, hiding you away in his garden of arcane wonders. Before today, you and him had hardly made any conversation since you arrived here, as he didn’t see any need for chatting given the fact that you two had already gotten to know each other personally. Just yesterday, he offered to give you a tour of one of the smaller greenhouses he owned, saying that you would have to wait a while before he showed you the rest of his field. Presently, this is your first time leaving your "room" since day one, mostly for Jungwon’s selfish desires of wanting to have a little picnic date with you. Perhaps this was all a ploy to manipulate your trust. Nonetheless, you wanted to use this time with Jungwon as an opportunity to ask him to clarify his deeper intentions. The only things Jungwon had made verbally clear to you were a set of rules for you to follow and that you were his and his only.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Yes. I am the same Jungwon that you met at the cafe as I am now and always will be. The only thing that’s changed are my feelings for you. They’ve grown since I brought you here with me. Since I’ve shared this part of my life with you." A forlorn expression waved over his features for a moment. He looked into your weak eyes as if speaking to your soul.

"I love you."

You felt obligated to say a set of three words back to him, but they were caught in your throat. You swallowed your own resistance and blurted out a shaky, "I love you, too, Jungwon," hoping that you sounded as sincere as you wanted him to believe you were. It’s not that you were incapable of ever loving Jungwon. At one point, you felt like you almost did. Unfortunately, all of those "what ifs" went out the window after the garden. Even after considering Jungwon’s plea for innocence, you felt in your gut that you still couldn’t trust him. Rightfully so, given that he had already betrayed your trust on such a level. Your false confession of love rang true to Jungwon’s ears, and the forlorn look on his face faltered, being replaced with his familiar smile. It startled you to see how the smile of his that used to comfort you had already become one of fright.

"Come here," he said, motioning for you to sit on his lap in a lotus position. He braced the small of your back with his larger hand, the other hand alternating between exploring either your thigh, cheek, or loose baby hairs. You could hardly keep eye contact with him, missing the close proximity you two had once enjoyed on the checkered picnic mat.

"I think it’s only fair that I ask you a question of my own, seeing that you’ve interrogated me twice thus far."

In that moment, Jungwon somehow made you feel guilty for not trusting him. It's been a few days, and you’ve been alright as rain under his sheltering. He certainly had been as sweet as the boy you first met, but you still couldn’t let his words disregard the facts. Jungwon had kidnapped you and never intended on letting you go. He lured you in like a fish in water, and you took the bait. Trying to avoid asking him what he wanted to know, as that would be yet another question on your behalf, you confessed, saying: "Whatever the question may be, I promise to answer you truthfully this time. I’m sorry for lying to you about certain things in the past."

You looked so submissive in Jungwon’s eyes while situated in his lap with your legs wrapped around him, his greedy hands left to explore your soft skin and every curve of your anxious body. You regained some ability to maintain eye contact with him while you awaited his question, your docile doe eyes opening a gate to Jungwon’s wildest fantasies of you, as your two hearts were the only beats present in this lonely field. You noticed Jungwon’s previously innocent aura falter into a darker, more lustful one upon feeling the sensation of his length growing harder beneath you. Your eyes fell to his lap and widened at the sight of his bulge.

"Jungwo-" he stopped you mid-sentence by taking your chin in his free hand, forcing you to meet his eyes. He remembered your previous confession of dishonesty regarding your past interactions with him, inspiring a catalog of questions he wanted to ask you before settling on the one most important to him.

"____," he sighed, feeling his body tingle all over at the mere contact with your now goosebump-bathed skin. This state had you both scared for different reasons. For him, it was the closeness of the moment—an obedient you cradled in his embrace like he’d always dreamed of. For you, it was also the closeness, coupled with the sight of an obsessed and hungry Jungwon biting back every will in his body to ravish you on the spot. The dainty meal he had prepared was long forgotten, likely to be left to insects and other wild life to feast upon in the meantime. He smoothed the tiny bumps on your nervous arm with a hard hand, hoping to ease your apparent nerves that only grew with the delay of his question.

"Were you lying to me when you said you weren’t a virgin?"

The question caused a pit to form in your stomach. It was written all over your face. However, as in most cases, Jungwon was more concerned with your answer than how his question made you feel. The fact that he was already hard just made the situation even more painful. He seemed to be patient for your response, but you didn’t want to push your luck and forced yourself to answer, but only with a soft mumble.

"Yes, I- I'm a virgin," you regretfully admitted, looking away from his face again, feeling some sort of strange shame. Silence filled the air as you awaited a sentence from Jungwon that never came. Only his pouty lips linked with yours, not exactly according to the way you previously would’ve preferred your first kiss with him to be, and certainly not under such circumstances. You instinctively pulled away in disgust, but luckily, with him being caught up in his own delusions, he saw your resistance to his kiss as a break for air. Suddenly, the dreamy boy you met in the cafe lost all of his charm, looking no different from a casual pervert.

"You’re mine. From the moment I saw you, I fucking knew your soul belonged to me. It’s hard to believe a beautiful girl like you is so intimately pure." He laved at his own lips, trying to steady his breathing.

"Were you waiting for me? Love?"

You struggled in his grip, senselessly trying to get away from him, knowing that you wouldn’t get very far.

"What is it, _____? I thought you loved me," his voice cracked, almost in a confused cry.

"Eugh!" you squirmed as he held you tighter.

"You can’t force me to love you back!"

That comment stung like a needle in his heart.

"Force you? So you lied to me. Again?"

"I can learn to love you, Jungwon! Just not like this!" You pleaded with him, your eyes beginning to well with tears. Though his despair soon returned to its original lustful desires. He pushed you off of his lap and pinned you by your hands to the picnic mat, your arms framing your head so gracefully.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this—to be so close to you that we’re breathing each other’s air," he confessed in between a trail of wet kisses, his sugary pink saliva glistening on your neck and collarbone under the sunlight peeking through the trees. He hungrily nibbled on your exposed skin, causing a moan to erupt from your throat unintentionally. The vibrations from your throat tantalized his lips, forcing a low grunt from him as he smirked against your flesh, the once-uncomfortable nips turning into painful pinches. His hand focused on kneading your hip before gripping your waist, the other curiously hovering over one of your breasts before taking hold of it like his life depended on it.

"Please, Jungwon-ah," you whimpered, your tears still too shy to fully come out, or perhaps it was the newfound anger and hate you’d developed for him that hindered your tears from flowing. He stopped his ministrations to your neck and chest momentarily, his elbows caging you beneath him. He stared at you with an uncanny fondness, thinking to himself how much he’d like to force those bashful tears out of your eyes with his greedy dick alone.

"Shh, my flower... You have nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here with me," he said in a soft voice, causing you to spiral in your head, a thick tear finally daring to tip over the damp edge of your lower eyelid. His eyes followed the tear, sliding down your cheeks before resting in the crook of your chest. He dove down to catch the liquid with his tongue, but was halted by a harsh slap planted right across his face. ‘Why did I do that?’ you thought to yourself.

"You little bitch," he cursed, flipping you on your stomach and restraining your movements with much greater success than before. He unzipped his pants and pressed his hardness on your back, leaning close enough to your ear so you could hear the sick nothings he whispered to you.

"Do you feel that, love? That’s how much power you have over me. My manhood has always been my weakest member. It submits to you in ways I both love and hate. But I have control over your entire body, and don’t you ever fucking forget that," he ordered, sitting on your legs as he hurriedly stammered to remove your clothing. You knew that at this point, fighting wouldn’t help you, but the haste with which your clothes were flying off your body only added fuel to your rage. You felt foolish, used, and soon to be abused under his tight grip. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you damned yourself for not seeing it any sooner. A cacophony of thoughts ran through your head, making you feel much more than half-crazy. You wanted to cry, and you did. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. The only sound that escaped your mouth was a weak, raspy sentence:

"I’m not a flower, Jungwon."

He stopped abruptly, staring at your bare and bruised figure beneath him, glistening in a sheen of sweat. Your rebuttal rang true in his ears, and he said to himself, yes, you were indeed far from a flower. For now, that is. His aggressive demeanor switched to that of a more calm and understanding one. He leaned down to gently peck an appealing corner of your neck that he had previously marked, a cherry red hue rising to the surface of your skin. He then trailed a finger down your spine, saying something that you didn’t know was either to you or himself.

"Why didn’t I think of that before? Every flower ought to have petals." You were very confused yet grateful that the abuse didn’t go any further, with Jungwon leaping off of your tired body and running off to his personal shed, leaving a naked, crying you sprawled upon the checkered picnic mat alone under the sun. The once tasty delights had become the second most disgusting thing in the dreaded garden, with Jungwon placing first.

………………………………………………………………………………….

✎ ᴀ/ɴ: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ ᴘ.ꜱ: this is my first fanfic, so i really hope you all enjoyed this short story! if it seems like i got a little carried away with myself here, it’s because i originally wrote this idea about someone else but changed my mind last minute haha… feel free to put in any requests for future works and provide feedback! love always <3

[jackoshadows]

I think we don't talk enough about how Jon Snow secretly had a sword made for Arya at Winterfell - without anyone knowing! And that this was something he was planning on for a while, with the intention to teach Arya some fundamental sword skills - without anyone knowing!!

It reminds me about how much Arya must have poured out her heart and soul to Jon Snow about EVERYTHING, considering how much Jon knows about her. The very best of confidantes who guarded their secrets with each other and are the most loyal of siblings.

It was to Jon Snow that Arya goes, after being bullied for her looks, worried that she too was a bastard and Jon who consoled her (ignoring his own pain at being one). It's Jon who praises her as pretty and clever and understands that deep curiosity and ambition in her.

It's Jon who understands that Arya is interested in something different and that this is also deserving of attention. The ONLY person in the whole of Winterfell - not her parents, her other siblings, her teacher. Only Jon Snow.

I can imagine Jon and Arya just hanging out in a quiet corner of the Godswood, under the weirwood, with Arya pouring out her frustrations and chatting about playing with the serving girls and Jon talking about his day practicing the sword. They know each other so well, that they are famous for finishing each other's thoughts. They share such a singular bond that he even got her sword name right!!

Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together: "Needle!" The memory of her laughter warmed him on the long ride north. - Jon, AGoT

Making Needle wouldn't have been easy considering it had to be done secretly. Clearly Jon thought that both his father and Catelyn wouldn't have been happy if they knew that the bastard was having swords made for their daughter.

"Give it to me." Reluctantly Arya surrendered her sword, wondering if she would ever hold it again. Her father turned it in the light, examining both sides of the blade. He tested the point with his thumb. "A bravo's blade," he said. "Yet it seems to me that I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work." Lord Eddard Stark sighed. "My nine-year-old daughter is being armed from my own forge, and I know nothing of it. The Hand of the King is expected to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet it seems I cannot even rule my own household. How is it that you come to own a sword, Arya? Where did you get this?" - Arya, AGoT

Jon Snow took the time to research swords that Arya could hold and handle. He must have been up in Maester Luwin's turret looking through books for the design and asked questions of the Winterfell master-at-arms Rodrik Cassel about Braavosi swords.

She giggled at him. "It's so skinny." "So are you," Jon told her. "I had Mikken make this special. The bravos use swords like this in Pentos and Myr and the other Free Cities. It won't hack a man's head off, but it can poke him full of holes if you're fast enough." - Jon, AGoT

He'd had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo's blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life. - Jon, ADwD

It had been so long since he had last seen Arya. What would she look like now? Would he even know her? Arya Underfoot. Her face was always dirty. Would she still have that little sword he'd had Mikken forge for her? Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her. Wisdom for her wedding night if half of what he heard of Ramsay Snow was true. Bring her home, Mance. I saved your son from Melisandre, and now I am about to save four thousand of your free folk. You owe me this one little girl. - Jon, ADwD

After getting the idea of what kind of sword works for Arya's small hands, Jon then goes to Mikken, requesting that he make a small Bravo's blade. I feel certain that Mikken had no idea that he was secretly having a sword made for the Lord of Winterfell's daughter. I wonder what Mikken's thoughts were on Jon Snow wanting that specific blade made. He clearly did not think it important to mention to Ned. And no one knew - not Robb or Theon or even the Winterfell master-at-arms!

Given how sudden the whole deal was with Ned leaving for King's Landing, IMO, it's clear that Jon was planning on secret rendezvous with Arya where he could show her the basics of using a sword. Jon is certainly no Syrio Forel and Arya certainly learned more from an actual Bravo master fencer than from Jon Snow.

And yet just knowing that Jon had Needle secretly made and was planning on secret lessons for Arya because he knew just how desperate she was to learn something different, something unacceptable for Winterfell's daughter and that he did so at the great risk of displeasing a father he looked up to and the Lady Catelyn Stark who already wanted him gone.

He truly is Lyanna's son in every way that mattered.

[another-lost-mc]

Hellooooo first time requesting on your blog!

So for a long time I've wondered what it would be like if NB Satan & OG Satan were to meet & converse with each other. How would they react to each other? What questions would they ask? How would they respond? Etc. I was wondering how you would imagine this interaction would work?

Also, is it okay if I claim 🦄 anon?

A/N: Ooh that's such a neat idea. You know those “talk to your past/future self" tropes? I almost see OG Satan leading NB Satan through the present timeline version of House of Lamentation. It gives him a glimpse of what life will be like later, how things will change and what will still be the same. I kept this mostly wholesome because NB has enough angst potential without me adding to it. lol

SATAN x gn!Reader, 0.5k words, SFW.

Content: implied established relationship with gn!Reader.

The house itself is obviously a bit different. It’s older but also newer in some ways—updates and renovations over time, that sort of thing. It’s endured years of the siblings living there and all that entails. Their home is obviously loved and well-cared for, despite the little dents in the wall from their squabbles and the occasional scorched marks from some accidental fires. Those lingering remnants of the past each tell a story, and OG Satan offers to share them all.

I think NB Satan is just confused by everything he sees. There are portraits of himself on the walls, and there's lots of family photos where OG Satan looks so happy. OG Satan talks about his brothers while they walk slowly through the halls together. His voice is laced with fondness, especially even when he talks about Lucifer. He reminisces about pranks he attempted with Belphie that Lucifer managed to thwart somehow, but there’s no real bite in his tone. He can look back fondly on those memories and cherish them all, the good and the bad.

By the time they get to his bedroom, NB Satan has no idea what to think. He explores the familiar space but notices all the subtle differences: there are a lot of human world literature and movies strewn about, and he notices a jar of cat treats near the door so it's easy to grab a handful before going out to feed the strays. This bedroom feels less like a prison of his own making because it's comfortable and uniquely him and surprisingly warm.

OG Satan just kind of watches his other self with something like amusement, and NB Satan gets fed up feeling like the punchline to someone's idea of a joke.

"I don't get it. We're the same, aren't we? So why aren't you—how are you not—?"

"How am I not what?"

"How are you not angry all the time? Why are you so happy? Especially talking about him."

"Oh, I'm angry," OG Satan says, picking up a framed photo from his bedside table. He runs his fingers over the glass as he looks at the picture in his hands. "You know what it feels like, how it festers deep inside us. We're always looking for reasons to let our rage loose on the world so everyone else hurts as much as we do. But we both had to learn that there's more to life than that, didn't we?"

OG Satan hands him the photo, and NB Satan takes the frame carefully. It's a a photo of him and his family at a beach somewhere, and right there in the middle with their arms wrapped around his waist is—

"Our attendant?" he asks, eyes lingering on a familiar smile before reluctantly handing the photo back.

OG Satan nods. "If anything, you're the lucky one," he says, returning the picture to its proper place beside his bed. "I had to wait a lot longer to meet them than you did. I was lost just as you were, but then they came here and—well, I have a feeling you know how the rest of that story goes," he says, clearing his throat as a pink blush dusts his cheeks.

For the first time since they met, it feels like they finally understand each other. "...Yeah, I think I do."

[riddleriddles]

ෆ i should hate you

ෆ theodore theo nott x reader (without a specific house)

ෆ summary: The one in which theodore pushes you away but you can’t lose your feelings for him.

ෆ warnings: google english, angst (im not really good at it)

ෆ notes: I think this also goes a lot with CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS from ts, but i guess im going to make another one for this song, and also i just found out that im the worst for dialogues, just like in real life

𖦹

It was late August when theo decided that you were too much for him, that he decided that your relationship could not continue when you deserved more than he had to offer. So, after a few weeks distancing himself from you and letting his own mind erase the good memories and being corrupted with insecurities, he asked you in a note in a shared class of potions.

“Astronomy tower at 10 after dinner?” It was what it said on the piece of parchment, I didn’t need a signature for you to know who it was.

As the astronomy tower was a place of yours, where you spent time and time lying together, admiring the stars, the constellations and only the presence of each other, you didn’t think much about it, went up to the astronomy tower after dinner, where you found the familiar figure of your boyfriend.

There he was, leaning against one of the iron handrails, his half wavy hair with some natural blonde lights falling on his face making a light shadow in his eyes, he does not look up when he hears steps approaching.

“Hi theo...” you whisper softly, leaning next to him on the handrail, looking into his eyes while his gaze avoids finding yours, he has an blank and distant face, if maybe you paid more attention, you could see the guilt he felt for doing what he was doing.

With these last weeks that he has pushed you away you can’t help but wonder if something had happened, maybe something happened to his father, maybe it’s the tests that are approaching, or he may just be quiet these days, by the way, it’s theo, he likes his own space sometimes, you thought. You and Theo loved each other very much, you loved him, and you thought he loved you too, so the breakup didn’t even cross your mind when he sent you that piece of parchment.

“Hi...” he says, a low and hoarse tone, as if he hadn’t spoken for some time, his eyes never found yours.

Theo felt his own stomach turn with anxiety, he couldn’t let it shine through, you knew him so well that he knew that any misstep you would find out that something was wrong.

After some time, in a comfortable silence from his point of view and almost deafening in theo's, he said the words he spent so much time rehearsing on his own head.

“I think we should break up.”

The words hit you right, you even thought you could have heard wrong, no, you had certainly heard it wrong, theo didn’t want to break up, he loved you, and you hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What...?” You whispered almost inaudible, discredited that you had even heard that phrase, but when he didn’t answer and turned his head to the opposite side of your face, to avoid your look, you knew you heard it right and then you realized that your relationship was over.

“I don’t think we should keep going... I...” he whispered, feeling a ball of guilt forming at the tip of his own stomach, he couldn’t look into your eyes, he couldn’t risk giving up and telling you the truth. “I don’t think it’s going to work.”

Theo can feel your gaze on him, begging him for a reason, maybe for a laugh explaining the dull joke, he knew you wouldn’t let him go without him really hurting you.

“I don’t feel the same for you anymore, you should go..”

You stepped back, suddenly all the words had disappeared from your mind, not knowing how to act or what to say, you were never very confrontational, suddenly your love is no longer there, feeling the emotions so strong hitting at once, leaving you embarrassed in front of him, when he couldn’t even look into your eyes, you left the astronomy tower as quickly as possible.

The next few weeks were difficult, spent with ice cream, romantic comedies and a lot of tears, especially when you needed to see him in the halls, and sitting on the other side of the classroom, so to avoid him, you started to avoid meals together, delaying your own routine just not having to face him, you started to go down later to the great hall at breakfast and dinner time, when he had already left, avoiding the same halls and especially the places that were previously marked as your places, such as the astronomy tower, for example.

You waited for time to heal you but it wasn’t quite like that, the only thing you could do was disguise your emotions, pretending to forget the moments together, and then went back to the meals at the right times and almost didn’t look for him in the halls anymore, or did it discreetly.

Theo was getting worse and worse, whenever he saw you avoiding passing by his side in the corridors his heart sank and the guilt hit him all over again, and thinking it couldn’t get worse, he literally wanted to be buried alive when he realized that you were forgetting about him, that you didn’t even care about passing next to him anymore, that you didn’t even realize that you had passed next to him.

“You should talk to her, she likes you and I’m sure you deserve to be together...” said theo’s friend, blaise, while they were sitting in the communal room, for him theo was visibly downcast and it’s been a while since he saw the friend so melancholic it didn’t make sense for him to break up with you to be crying in the corners, theo didn’t use to open up to many people, but he trusted blaise enough to let him know what was bothering him. “you’re keeping her and yourself away from the one you love, that’s not fair.”

Theo thought too much about his friend’s words, but he never felt brave enough to come back to you and tell you the truth, he thought you had already given up on him and that it was better that way.

But he was pulling his own limits, and could no longer bury his own feelings when he was sitting on a bench in the courtyard accompanied by his friends, and from afar he heard your laugh, maybe it was the desire he felt to hear your voice again that made him realize the laughter among the other sounds of the place.

He turned his head abruptly in the direction just to wish he hadn’t turned when he saw you accompanied by another boy, a gryffindor boy, passing by while you put a lock of hair behind your ear and laughed at something that the blonde in red and black robes said.

Theodore felt the jealousy invade him, who did this gryffindor think was supposed to make you laugh like that? Did he think he deserved your smiles? Who did he think it was to at least get close to his girlfriend? he thought, but you were no longer his girlfriend, he had broken up with you and had hurt you, so now you probably wanted to be there, walking with that other boy and there is nothing he could do about it.

Watching you bend the corridors and get out of his sight he felt that the right thing was to let you go, he couldn’t be so selfish to the point of holding you up with him, when you deserved much more than he had, but he wasn’t ready, he couldn’t, he didn’t have the courage he thought he would have, he wanted to be selfish, no matter how too good you were for him, he wanted to keep you around and never push you away again, he wanted to intertwine your fingers and never see you cry again, much less for himself like that night, stupid, it was what he was, that’s how he saw himself now, a fool for thinking he could see you moving forward and it was the purest foolishness to think that he could move on himself.

So he finally decided to listen to his friends and go after you, without warning anyone he got up from the bank quickly,his friends looked at him curious, but used to theo’s behavior, they just shrugged.

Theodore followed in your footsteps and bent the corridor to find you this time alone caressing an orange kitten while he saw a little far away the gryffindor with his back distancing himself, he approached shyly, with his hands in his pocket and without making any noise.

You just realized that you were in the presence of someone when you looked at the shoes stopping by your side and recognized them as your ex-boyfriend’s, feeling your throat dry your hand fell from the kitten who was upset by the lack of affection and came down from where it was leaving you and him alone, it took you a few more seconds thinking until you raised your head slowly to look at him.

“Nott.” you said shy trying to sound firm, your gaze deviating from his, it was difficult to see him so close after so long, you wanted to hate him so much, you really wanted to push and yell at him, ask why he had done that, what you had done wrong for him not to love you anymore and he felt a bitter taste in his mouth when he heard his own surname come out of his lips, feeling as if that name did not belong to him, you should call him theo, my love, dear, that didn’t feel right.

“Don’t call me that...” he asked, his voice was distant but he still missed and sad, but it wasn’t enough for you to realize, you made fun of his words and crossed your arms.

“What do you want?” You asked firmly but still avoiding his gaze, you took a step back by moving away from him, he clenched his jaw to the sign of your rejection his heart sink again, the feeling becoming familiar.

“I want to... apologize, for that night...” he said in a low tone, looking at his own feet as if he felt guilty and ashamed, that’s certainly not what you expected, coming out of the defensive mode you lowered your arms.

“Apologize?”

“I was an idiot, I pushed you away for a stupid reason” he was visibly sorry, he took a step towards your, you don’t back down this time.

“yes, you were really an idiot,” you said and crossed your arms again, your eyes went up to look at theirs, he couldn’t stand it, your glassy eyes looking back at him, he just wanted to crush his own lips against yours. “were you lying that night? When did you say you didn’t love me anymore?”

“i was” he admitted quickly with a positive nod. “it was a lie, it was all a lie, I think I let my insecurities speak louder and I ended up thinking that the best idea was to push you away, i’m sorry.”

Suddenly, the nights you spent crying no longer made sense, you felt angry with him for push you away, and thinking that if you knew you would have done everything to prove to him that he was the one who deserved the whole world.

“Do you know how stupid you are!? I thought I had done something wrong!” you exclaimed getting closer to him, he held your face with both hands as if he were going to kiss you, you felt your eyes filling with tears of frustration and he could see them being formed in the corner of your eyes, mentally cursing himself for making you cry again.

“I know! I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m just me and you’re so... everything, and you deserve everything, and I thought maybe I could let you go for it, but I can’t, I see it now, I promise I’ll do everything to give you what you deserve, I promise, please bella, forgive me.”

A single tear fell down your cheek with the statement, a few seconds in silence was enough for you to think, no matter how frustrated you were with him, the desire to love him again was always stronger.

“You’re dumb.” you said quietly, he nodded.

You held his face pulling him down and finally crushed his lips on yours, he squeezed his eyes and let his hand out of your face, now it was in the air and he didn’t know where to put it, the kiss that overflowed the longing and love you felt for each other, it was calm and slow, no hurry after spending so much time waiting, his hand finally fell to your waist, fitting perfectly, he remembered that.

then you pushed your lips away, he still brushed his own lip on yours as if he were silently asking for more, you smiled against his lips when you realized it.

“Never push me away like this again, I love you and you are more than I could ask for”

[antiquarianfics]

Sun to Me

If there is one thing Bucky Barnes remembers about his mother, it is that she told him to find someone who plants flowers in the darkest parts of him. If there is one thing Bucky Barnes knows about Reader, it is that they grow him to the clouds.

A/N: Okay, so. (1) Thank you all so much for the incredible response to my last fic, "Timeless." It's given me the motivation to keep writing fics for y'all. (2) Apparently my inspiration strictly comes from music; thus this Zach Bryan "Sun to Me" inspired fic. Enjoy! Genre: Fluff / WC: 1,049 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x G!N Reader Rating: PG / Warning(s): N/A Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

---

Children rarely grasp the concept of marriage when they're little. They understand that their parents get married because they love each other, and that's about as far as it goes. Children rarely grasp the concept of different types of love when they're little. They understand that their parents love each other, and they understand that their parents love them, but that's about as far as it goes. Bucky Barnes was no exception to this human truth when he was young. He remembers being 5 or 6--lifetimes ago--telling his mother he was going to marry her. He loved his ma: you marry the people you love.

Winnifred had gently taken her son in her arms, sitting on their solid living room couch.

"My darling boy," she had said, "you can't marry me. I'm your ma."

Bucky had made a face, protesting. "I love you, though!" He had argued with his mother. "You said people marry people they love."

"I did say that," Winnifred agreed, "but the way I love your father is different than the way I love you. You don't get it now, but one day, you'll meet someone wonderful. When you meet that person, you'll understand what I mean."

Bucky had made a face, scrunching his eyebrows together and biting his lip in confusion.

"James," his mother had said, "you'll find someone someday, somewhere that plants flowers in the darkest parts of you--someone who grows you to the clouds. You'll find someone who loves you the way I love your dad. I promise, sweetheart."

---

Bucky wakes to your alarm blaring--your third, if he counted right. He had woken up three times now to the blaring alarm that you have snoozed just as many times, not stirring more than you have to to pause the incessant noise. Bucky lie in your shared bed, staring at the ceiling and sure he would be unable to fall back asleep for a fourth time. Tiredly, he looked over to the digital clock on his nightstand, reading the taunting 5:32 A.M. in the aggressive red. Running a hand over his tired face, he is about to pull himself out of bed and start his day, but he looks beside him first.

There you are, fast asleep, ignoring every attempt your alarm makes to rouse you. He briefly thinks you're going to oversleep, but he also knows you set alarms earlier than you need to wake up to account for each time you hit snooze.

You're sprawled across your side of the bed, your legs tangling with his and arms tied around your pillow. It's only then that he realizes his legs have gone numb from being pressed beneath your own. He can't bring himself to care, though.

As he watches you sleep--your chest slowly rising and falling as you breathe--he smiles softly. He decides right then that anything he could possibly choose to do at 5:32 A.M. is not nearly as appealing as lying with his partner.

Bucky then rolls onto his side, letting his left arm wrap around you, pulling you close. He breathes in the smell of your shampoo, and he thinks it's something floral. The smell reminds him of his mother--a lifetime ago--telling him to find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of him. It's funny, he thinks, that a smell could pull out such a memory that the brainwashing and science experimenting had fought to erase completely, but he is glad it did.

He misses his mother for a moment. He had lost her so early on, but he remembers how he loved her, how she loved him. He remembers then how his mother had assured him the way they loved each other would be different than how he loves you. He can't help but laugh softly to himself. You were right, Ma, he thinks, I understand now.

You really are something special. You are the kind of person he thinks his mother would have loved. Your kind disposition, your intelligence, your strength: just you. You are the kind of person, too, that took his history, his scars, and his damaged heart and sowed a plentiful garden. You planted flowers in his soul where there had been thorns. You watered the sprouts every night to allow them to eventually bloom. You were there for every nightmare, every court appearance, every fight. You were there to pick up the pieces when he felt most broken. You were there to grow him to the clouds.

He hopes he has been the same for you.

A fourth alarm starts blaring, screaming for you to wake up. The fourth alarm takes the title as the final alarm as you clumsily grab your cellphone, looking at it just enough to turn it off. You drop your phone next to you on the bed before turning around in your lover's arms.

"Mornin', handsome," you say before letting out a yawn.

"Good morning, Doll," he replies easily, gently swiping a stray hair away from your eyes with his finger. "You know, you slept through 3 alarms this morning," he says with a teasing (albeit slightly annoyed) tone.

You groan. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Gave me time to just hold you."

You hum happily, leaning forward to softly kiss his lips. He happily reciprocates. When the two of you part, he smiles at you.

"I remembered something."

"Was it actually 4 alarms?" You ask playfully.

Bucky chuckles and leans his forehead against yours.

"Nah, it was just 3," he assures you. "I remembered something my ma told me."

"Oh!" You exclaim, a little surprised. "That's an early memory!"

He grins. "Yeah, it is."

"So? What'd she tell you?"

"She told me that somewhere, someday, I'd find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of me. Someone who grows me to the clouds. I was, like, 6, I think, so it made no sense when she said it to me."

You smile softly, letting your hand cup his face tenderly. You don't say anything, though, opting to let him share his newfound memory at his own pace.

"But I get it now. It took a literal century, but I get it now. You're the person Ma told me I'd find."

"Can I tell you a secret, Buck?"

"Anything, Doll."

"I love you, too."

[rosie-writings]

Breathe Me Out, Drink You In

Summary: After the wedding, you and Sam find each other alone in the dressing room and again in the bathroom of your wedding night suite.

Warnings: Sam x Reader smut, Unprotected sex, Semi public, Blowjob, Sex in bath, all the fluff during rough sex

Words: 4.5K

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘Telomeres’ by Sleep Token

Sam had the eyes that I would wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. 

I could tell; feel it. Somethings people simply know. And I knew. As ridiculous as that sounded, I knew how it sounded, it was true. 

The first time I saw him, it took my friend yanking on my arm to get me to look away. After I answered her, I looked back at him, and his eyes, ever blue and unblinking, still held my body. 

I went home with him that night, and it wasn't a secret for anyone. He kicked out his roommates who were there at that club and their sparkling eyes and jeering smiles were the last memory I had before I got that blond alone. 

He woke up first and brushed my hair and kissed me awake. I didn't leave for two days. 

I also don't remember the last time I had sex that much in two days. It was enough to almost ask my therapist if my addictions swapped up for a weekend. 

I didn't leave until his sleepy looking roommate—the one with the dark hair and leather jackets—came home not caring what he ran into or heard because he simply wanted to sleep in his own bed. I couldn't blame him. I wondered how much he ripped into Sam, after I left, for having to hear us through their shared walls. 

For such a large house, I was caught off guard that their bedrooms shared walls. 

Now it made sense. They wanted to be as close as possible to each other without actually sharing a bed at night. 

It took fourteen months for Sam to propose to me. Then he told me he spent the past seven trying to convince Colby. 

Our lives mended easily. For as big of YouTube channels they both had and shared, I was completely shocked that I didn't know who they were. They didn't know me, but I too made a living making silly videos. 

“Out of everyone, though,” Colby eventually pulled me aside at our engagement party two months ago, “I'm not surprised he chose you. I mean; you're both made for each other. In what other world would it feel right for a couple to get engaged seven months after meeting?”

Seven months after meeting. 

That was how I knew Colby knew that I was the one for his best friend; he agreed the first time Sam asked, but he didn't want to lose him. He didn't want to lose him to the possibility of being heart broken. 

It was clear as day, now, to all of us; our entire friend group. 

I was theirs, they were mine. 

And Sam and I were one. 

“Literally-Literally—no really—I told her that—” Sam broke into laughter as the music drowned his words. I smiled and tried to keep down my own laughs as much as possible from the recognition of the story he told. His arm hung around my neck with a drink in his hand. While he was distracted in conversation, I sipped from it. Tara gave me a look. “So I told her that—I was like ‘Yeah no, no we’re getting married in May, you know,’” Sam’s voice was soft as he remembered the words I listened to him tell that one Hotel manager. God, he was so awkward in that moment I was surprised his face didn’t flare pink.

”And she gave me a look and looked her up and down and tells her that she wasn’t the one girl we’ve brought there.” At that point I burst out laughing. I remembered the hotel; it wasn’t even a hotel that gave us enough substance or evidence so we fucked around during the entire video.

I still get hate for not being serious enough in that video.

”And I look at her, apparently shocked, and before I say anything she goes ‘You see a lot of things working at hotels for as long as I have-‘ I cut her off laughing and she’s just glaring at me, I go ‘Oh you mean that one blonde and brunette? That’s literally Kris and Celina our best friends from Canada.’ And I’m not joking, right at that moment, Colby’s coming back from grabbing shit and doesn’t see her and says ‘Alright babes, ready to find ghost pussy?’” Sam takes a step back, and my best friend who tood across from me burst out laughing; the friend next to her dropped her jaw.

”To be clear,” I laughed. “It was almost three am by that point, we had two energy drinks, and from our first investigation, we knew there wasn’t jack shit there so it was like moral support for us to not start breaking down sobbing.”

”Oh my god!” Our friend cried as she sucked literal tears in. “That’s why she gave us such weird looks when we checked in!” Tears actually fell by now. My best friend and a couple other girls also stayed at the hotel a week after me, Sam and Colby stayed, and they booked the same room under the boys’ names since it was in the middle of a chain of investigations we did together. It was easier for them to book all the rooms under their names, and the girls and I booked all the flights.

”Dude, there is no way I’m going back,” I sobbed. “It was too funny.”

”I’m so embarrassed,” Sam gasped through laughter. “Like what does she think—“

”I know,” my best friend cried. 

Our voices were roughened by the alcohol and the sheer decibel we had to shout over the music and other heightened conversations. We were outside; the sun set halfway behind the ocean horizon and shot orange stripes across the once blue sky. 

It was the night before our wedding.

Instead of individual bachelor/bachelorette parties, we combined our weddings parties and went out. This was a lounge we went to once before, and we talked about it for months and months after. It was a phenomenal night. Of course we chose this place for this special moment. 

Sam didn’t leave my side all night.

I tried my hardest to not look at him because if I did, I would never look away and then it would escalate into things our best friends would be traumatized seeing.

“I love you,” he said later in the night when the strand lights that encompassed the ever large pergola outside the lounge we danced under. “God, I love you so much it scares me.” I nodded. I didn’t move other than the tiny movements we made; we stopped dancing completely regardless of the loud music and other busybodies around us.

“I know,” I hummed. My arms rested around his neck. He caved towards the drag of my thumb on his skin. “Love you too, so much.” My voice fell into a whisper. 

The next time I saw him, it was at the altar. 

I told him I wanted him to wear white too because he was just as much mine as I was his. We were married in the garden of a hotel downtown; the reception inside opulent but simple and blended with the art deco chandeliers and plush green carpets. Other than the room, there really was no color in our wedding. 

Everyone wore white. My bridesmaids’ dresses were a-line slip in champagne and the groomsmen wore off white suits with minimal black accents; the only thing that separated Sam and I. We didn't wear anything other than white. 

After, when the adrenaline settled and the taste of Sam's committal kiss still on my lips, we stood upstairs. We took photos outside before we shared a flute of champagne privately. 

“Alright, reception is in 10.” I remember Colby telling us as he ushered the rest of the wedding party out. A wave of nervousness hit my stomach when he led them all out. My best friend gave me a look and I swore my face burned. 

As the door closed, Sam moved into my vision. He looked at me without saying a word. My ears rang in the silence; I figured that his did too. Then, his hand reached up and held my face. I basked in his gaze as his eyes raced all over me.

He kissed me sweetly. I hummed as I tasted the same champagne in his cool mouth, and I took him deeper and deeper until his body flushed with mine.

”Sam,” I moaned quietly. His mouth raced down my neck and my hand tangled in his hair. I pulled him back since much was on my mind.

“I haven’t been able to-to basically worship you all day. You look unbelievable, you think I’m not going to take this time to touch you?”

“Sam—“ I gasped his name when he rushed me and pinned me against the wall with a kiss. Melted into it, my hands wrapped around his neck, and he pried his hips in between my legs. ”Oh my god,” I gasped when I realized what he wanted; what we were about to do. “We have ten minutes.”

”And you haven’t been wanting me to touch you for the past two hours?” My face heated.

That was what those explicit messages he sent me while I got ready with my bridesmaids were for.

”Hurry,” I whispered, and so he did.

One of my legs was over his elbow as he finished tugging at his pants. 

“Oh my fucking god—“ His whisper rushed out fast as his fingers navigated my underwear—the lingerie I planned for him to tear off later, not now—and shoved his fingers into the warmth he created.

”No-No,” I moaned as his fingers filled me over and over. “Just get inside me.”

He didn’t fight it. Something about our precarious situation and lack of time added fire under my skin; I liked when he listened to what I demanded of him. Of course it was only in these situations. 

“Fuck me,” I whispered with a tone that was entirely too sweet for the vulgar words. “Holy shit—” He held my neck, thumb hooked under my chin, as his other hand left an imprint in my hip. 

“Yeah?” He was so quiet that I hardly heard him, and it left my legs so weak I was grateful he held me up. “I'm going to cum in you and then we're going to party with our friends at the reception and my cum is going to stay there making a mess between your legs and you're not going to clean it up, right?”

“Fuck—Yes,” I gasped so entirely quietly and meekly that I had to close my eyes. I almost passed out. With a louder moan, he leaned against me and placed kisses on my neck.

“Touch yourself-Touch yourself for me, make yourself cum with me,” he whispered in my hair. I shoved a hand in between us and made myself see stars with him. “Yeah,” he laughed when my legs gave out. He fucked into me harder to keep me up against the wall. 

“Going to,” I cried. 

“Yeah?” He teased; his voice raised in a breathy question and he stood back up again. Our noses almost touched he was so close. “Better cum so hard around me; make me cum, make me fill you.”

He was right there. 

My eyes were closed; tears burned my eyes. I wondered if one fell because his thumb wiped under my eye. 

“Know you want it, don't you? I know you want me inside you out there. I know you love thinking about my cum dripping down your legs in front of everyone. Love feeling me inside of you all the ti—”

My orgasm grabbed me by the throat and pushed me against the wall. 

“Oh shit—” he moaned loudly as his body lurched forward into mine. God, he was right. I loved it. I also loved that my body could demand his orgasm from him at my will. 

He moaned my name as he finished our climaxes and held himself against the wall as well. 

We caught our breaths; his forehead rested on mine. 

“Come on, my love,” he gasped breathlessly. Then he kissed me slowly as he gently pulled out of me and let my leg down. I stumbled into him but did not pull away from his mouth. 

I thought about his taste as we walked hand in hand downstairs where we were announced into the reception. 

The night was a blur.

Between kisses, dances, tears, and drinks, I forgot most of the night. I knew I was happier than I ever had been, and with Sam’s hand in mine, it was enough for me. 

Until we were alone.

I remembered my arms coiled around his. I remembered leaving kisses across his face and neck. It took everything in his power to keep his hands on the wheel as my hands roamed his body.

Finally.

It was like my senses came to me the moment the door closed, and we were alone in our silent hotel suite. 

My heart raced as his hands brushed my hair over my shoulder. I looked down at the loose waves as his fingers undid my dress. Every brush of his fingers down the skin of back sent waves of chills across my skin. I swallowed tightly. When my dress was loose enough, I stepped out of it and he lightly tossed it back; draped over the chair for us to deal with later. 

Then I turned and faced him. His eyes hazed with need, and I grabbed his neck and kissed him tightly. He hummed into my mouth, and I drank in every noise he made. 

I couldn’t resist. My fingers went for the buttons of his clothes, and he sighed a breath of contentment and tipped his head back in pleasure. His hands never left my body as I unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it to my dress. Then I worked on his button up and it slipped to the floor leaving him only in his pants.

He only had an inch on me—at least—with these shoes on, and I had to admit, I liked it. But then he dove down to his knees.

“Sam,” I gasped. My hand tangled in his hair. I didn’t care that his hair was sweaty and warm, and his body even more so. We were both disgusting by now. After the long day we had of covering our bodies with our thick clothes, sweat, kisses, and arousals, of course it wasn’t perfect. Of course we weren’t clean. But what did it matter?

And that was when my heart skipped beats. 

I looked down, and Sam stared up at me darkly as his hands moved down my legs to unclamp my shoes. The image of my body standing in front of him—hardly covered in the ivory lingerie—while he kissed my skin and untied my shoes almost took both of my knees out.

When my shoes were with his a few feet away from us, he kissed up my body and paused at my thighs. He still was on his knees, and I was sure I held onto his hair so I wouldn’t fall over.

”Oh my god—“ he gasped.

To be honest, it was disgusting. I felt gross and my lingerie was nasty by now, but heat flooded my body when his fingers trailed the remnants of his cum that had slipped down my skin during the reception. 

“Sam,” I repeated his name. What other words did I know? I moaned as his tongue replaced his fingers and finally, he pulled the lace to the side. “Fuck—“ I gasped when his mouth moved up and up until it tasted my arousal. “Please.” I stumbled. “I-I can’t—“

”I know,” he sighed after he selfishly stole a few more seconds of tasting me. Then he stood up. “God, I love you.” He kissed me. “I love you, love you,” and he kissed me again. It took everything in my power to let him go.

My stomach fell from its place when he walked to the bath and ran the hot water. 

I walked over to him. My hand raced over his back. He stood up to me, kissed me. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Get in, I’ll get us drinks.”

”I-I mean, okay, but I’m still wearing—“

”Get in,” he gently doubled down. His smile fell slowly, eyes darkened. My thumb popped from the lace around my body I held onto. 

I got in. 

My hair draped over the back of the tub to keep it from getting wet for now. As the water filled, bubbles brother up around me. I have never sat in a bath with clothes on before; maybe this was just lingerie, but it felt odd. My body heated when I imagined Sam taking off the lace soaking wet lace. I watched as the water covered my body inch by inch.

When Sam came back into the bathroom, he placed the drinks down. My eyes weren’t on anything except him. He turned to me, and before he could do anything else, I rose to my knees. He sucked in a harsh breath when my fingers grabbed him by his belt.

He gasped my name and his hand brushed into my hair. Thankfully he didn’t stop me; I was pushed sick with waiting for him. I pulled his pants and underwear away—just enough for easy access—and looked up at him. He stared down at me with glossy eyes. 

I took him in my mouth without looking away from him.

But he looked away from me; eyes closed with pleasure and head tipped back. I moaned around him and he stumbled forward.

”Oh my god, baby, let me in with you.” I hummed again, and this time his fingers yanked on the roots of my hair. I gasped for air when I came off him. He tore his clothes off the rest of the way and got in with me. 

Immediately, I moved over to him and straddled him. 

I kissed him before he could do anything else. His hands raced up my slick legs and invaded the lace around my hips. Our moans mixed as I grinded down on him; his hands leading my motions. The water was already hot and the heat that ignited under my skin didn’t help.

I was long past aching for him.

I needed him more than I needed to breathe, to see.

With a shaking breath, he moved the lace to the side and I sank down on him. His head tipped back and I kissed down his neck; the vibrations of his moans against my lips made me move my hips faster and faster.

His hand linked under my jaw and our breaths mixed between open mouthed kissed.

”You feel so good,” I whispered. He smiled. “It’s kinda counterintuitive for you to put me in the bath just to make me all dirty again,” I said. 

“Then let me clean you,” he said, and I still drank down his words, his breath. He leaned over and unzipped my bag, and from the bag inside of it, he grabbed my bottle of body wash. 

He left it on the floor for a moment. He turned back to me.

I gasped when he pushed me back and I was empty again. He sat up and forced me to sit on my knees on either side of his legs. I watched as my fingertips snaked up his arms; the water once hot turned cool under my touch, and chills ran through me at the feeling of his skin under my hands.

Then I noticed the way his eyes ravaged my body. Fingers slipped under the bottom of my lingerie and he took one glance at my eyes before he unclasped the lace behind me. His lips left warmth and kisses and bites on my skin.

My breath was taken from me when the lace slipped off me completely. It hung over the side of the tub.

”Sam,” I gasped, and he moaned as he kissed down my neck and tasted every part of me. My hands tangled in his hair as his lips traveled down and down; he left red and purple bruises over the curves of my chest. I wondered if he tasted the quickened beats of my heart.

He pulled away to grab the soap. I watched as he poured some in his fingers.  

I couldn’t help it.

His hands were so incredibly soft and slippery over my skin as they washed me. He washed every part of my body, and after, his hands slipped back over my chest. 

I sank down on him again.

”Fuck,” he gasped quietly. I thrusted myself up and down, and I didn’t care if the water moved more, if it splashed where it shouldn’t.

”Oh shit,” I moaned, and my moans increased as his mouth replaced his hands. I knew my skin was bitter with soap, but he still tasted me and sucked on my skin until I was flushed. The electricity of his tongue and mouth over my nipple shot straight down in between us, and it didn’t matter we were submerged under water anymore; I was so wet he nearly slipped out of me. 

“Yeah like that, oh my god—“ he moaned when I quickened my pace.

”Need you,” I gasped. My legs were too fatigued for me to do much more; there was no traction in the tub, and I slowly lost strength.

He lifted me up. 

“Sam—“ I cried when he forced me around. My eyes met the only light in the room; the orange glow behind the mirror. 

Then my hands grabbed on the edge, and I held myself up as his hands raced down my back, my hips.

He yanked off the soaked lingerie and tossed them aimlessly. 

There wasn’t a warning; no more hesitation. I knew that I was so far past the point of foreplay and teasing, and from the force he used on me, I knew he must have been in the same position. One of my knees hung on the ledge while another was still in the water. Sam thrusted into me and grabbed onto my waist so I didn’t slip anywhere.

”Holy shit! Please, oh my god—“ My moans fell incoherent as he finally fucked me like I needed. He too gasped a string of moans, and his nails dug into the slick skin of my sides.

“God you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “Always take me so well.”

”Sam, please.”

“Please what?”

”I’ve needed you for so long.”

”You’ve had me all day,” he laughed.

”Then fuck me. I need to feel you so hard for days.” He cursed under his breath again. He stood me up and used clean water from the faucet to make sure we were rinsed clean.

”Out,” he said. I rushed out of the tub and grabbed a towel and dried off to not get water everywhere. He haphazardly did the same, but his eyes never left my body; I saw them in the reflection of the mirror.

And then I was shoved against the counter. 

“Sam!” I cried and I watched our reflection as he thrusted into me again. He lifted my leg, and my knee rested on the edge of the freezing granite. 

“Watch me,” he demanded and my eyes met his in the reflection. “Watch us; watch me give you want you want.” 

“Oh shit,” I cried roughly. His fingers gripped the roots of my hair and he yanked to keep me upright. If my world wasn’t rocked in that moment, I would have blushed from the sounds of our bodies colliding and moans bouncing off the walls. 

“Sam,” I cried his name until tears formed in my tired eyes. “I’m so close.”

”Then cum for me, my love,” he said gently. “Want you to cum so hard for me.” I gasped and choked on my breath when he grabbed my arm and shoved my hand in between us to lure me closer and closer to my climax.

My knees nearly gave out when it washed over me. He didn’t slow down; he fucked me harder. His hands held up my hips since I clearly forgot how to, and he didn’t give me space to come down after my high.

”Sam! Fuck—please—please! Oh my god, it’s so much—“

He grabbed my throat and yanked me back. His mouth was so close to my face, I felt the warmth.

 “Is it really too much?” His voice was low and sent thick chills across my skin.

”Yes! Need-Need you to cum.”

”Yeah baby? Where do you want me? Inside—“

”In my mouth. Want you to cum down my throat.”

”Fuck,” he gasped and let go of me. “On your knees,” he demanded and I didn’t mind if they were bruised when they met the floor. I looked up at him as he grabbed my hair and thrusted deep into my mouth. The tears finally fell, and as he tried to pull back and lighten his thrusts, I yanked him in and pushed my tongue up against him tighter.

”Holy shit—“ He gasped and his lips parted. I sucked harder, and watched his face twist with pleasure with every movement of my mouth. I knew. I knew him inside and out; I knew what would bring him on my knees for me. So I didn’t go easy.

He moaned my name. I loved that tone; the tone of warning.

”Fuck!” He cried and another moan of my name became sweet music to my ears. “Coming—“

My eyes snapped shut as the first wave of burning tore down my throat. He held onto my hair for dear life as I drank him down, and before his orgasm was even finished, he forced himself out of me. I opened my mouth before I swallowed the rest of his fluid, and as more striped my tongue, the rest slipped out of my mouth and down my cheek.

”Holy shit, holy shit, you fucking—“ Finally, I opened my eyes and he knealt down in front of me. A smile matched with a blush pulled at his face as he wiped his cum from my face with his thumb. 

He kissed me regardless of the mess of my face and mouth. I pressed the remnants of his cum into his mouth and he moaned and kissed me deeper, firmer. 

He pulled away when air was necessary.

”Come on,” he sighed. “Want to lay down and hold you, love you.”

”So this wasn’t you loving me?” I shot back with a smirk. He rolled his eyes.

”Everything I do with you is out of love, even if it’s fucking you like a slut.”

”Oh, okay that’s good,” I laughed, and he helped me up.

After we cleaned ourselves up, he brought me the forgotten champagne and even if it was lukewarm now, we drank it down and kissed one more time. As he left the bathroom with my hand in his, I stole one last look at myself in the mirror.

Behind me, light drops of water reverberated in the room from my soaked lingerie that hung over the faucet in the tub. 

✧˖*°࿐

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Crashing On Crush. JJK 4 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: alcohol consumption; protected sex; oral sex (f. receiving); praising kink; mention of passed harassment

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Jungkook left a few minutes after because he had to wake up early the next morning. You were disappointed because after sharing such an intimate moment, you would have liked him to stay. You have felt so close to him. And you had the feeling that your connection disappeared with his absence. You have felt so alive, and the next moment you are completely alone, and not so much alive. It was kind of terrifying how your mood changed because of him: you were beyond clouds when he was next to you, and completely in the darkness when he left. This emotional rollercoaster made you cried that night. You were too lost in your own feelings. You felt closer to him and at the same time so far away.

The whole next day, you kept making mistakes at work, your brain overthinking the last night. You were thinking about Jungkook and wondering if he were thinking about you too. The possibility of it not being the case and of you being just another girl he had fun with squeezed your heart.

That's why, heading out of the art gallery, you thought like you could finally breathe. The pure fresh air of Seoul filled your lungs like it was your very first breathing. That's when you saw him, leaning against his black Mercedes.

Jungkook smiles at you when he notices you. A genuine smile, that makes you smile equally. A pure wave of happiness wraps your body and you wish you could jump in his arms. Once again, a little word with huge meaning starting with 'L' pops in your mind and warms your heart.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him, trying to not sound as cheerful as you are

"To see you"

The simple but so sweet respond attacks your heart. It should be illegal to be such a flirt.

"I was thinking I could cook for you"

"Oh, you know how to cook?" You tease him

"Are you questioning my cooking skills?" He replies, a brow lifting up suspiciously

Jungkook's smile is so pretty. When he smiles, he looks like the happiest man alive and, oddly, seeing him happy makes you happy too. You realize that you want to make him happy.

"Prove me wrong then" You say, opening his car door.

———

You didn't know what to expect from Jungkook's apartment but it surely looks like him: a big living room with a huge TV screen, a large black leather couch, some paintings on the walls ; a modern open kitchen and a dark wood diner table making the transition between the cooking area and the living room. You see some photos of him, his family and his friends. It's like Jungkook has brought all his memories from his brain and materialized it into his place. You feel good here, at peace, like in a cocoon, protected from the outside world. It's the same feeling that when he wraps his arms around your frame.

As Jungkook washes his hands with soap in the kitchen sink, he speaks up:

"Do you want some ramyeon?"

You immediately burst into laugher and Jungkook follows you.

"I mean, real ramyeon but if you want that, I will love it too"

"Real ramyeon is okay" You say, blushing

Jungkook starts boiling water in a saucepan and grabs two packs of Shin Ramyun, the less spicy ones after you told him that you were sensitive. It doesn't take long for the noodles to be ready and you two sit down at the dinner table.

The conversation goes smoothly. You talk about you two, your childhoods, the things you like and don't like. You just get to know each other. Despite being unlabeled, it looks like the beginning of a relationship. Few memories of how it started with your ex-boyfriends come back to you and you realize that what you are leaving now with Jungkook is like that, but way better because you get along on so many things. You laugh at the same jokes, you are upset about the same things, you care about the same subjects. However, you don't want to rush things. It's been a long time since you were in a relationship and you want to take your time. You don't have to put a name on what you and Jungkook are.

"Do you have nicknames?" You ask him at some point

"Actually, I have a lot of them: JK, Kook, Kookie" He pauses and a sparkle of playfulness brightens his doe eyes "Daddy..."

"Jungkook!" You blush and choke at the same time, which makes him laugh.

"You can call me whatever you want"

"What's your favorite nickname? And don't say Daddy" You ask him, genuinely wanting to call him by a name he likes

Jungkook takes the time to think and then, gets a tiny closer to you. When he talks back, his voice is way deeper and you feel a change in the air around you.

"Call me yours"

You don't understand what happens next because in just one second, your lips are on Jungkook's. He grabs your waist to pull you closer, basically putting you on his laps. Your hands are in his smooth, long hair. Your kiss is messy, eager and your panties gets quickly soaked. Then, Jungkook pulls you up and leans you on the table, the tableware pushed aside carelessly. The cold and hard material in your back contrast with the fire in your body and the softness of Jungkook's lips on your neck. His hands struggle to unbutton your pale yellow blouse and he is too impatient to wait. With a sharp movement, he pulls over both sides, causing all the little buttons to pop and fall around you.

"Jungkook!" You scold him

"I'll buy you a new one"

He even seems amused and kisses your breasts. It's enough for you to forget about the ripped clothes. Jungkook sneaks a hand on your back and undoes your bra. He quickly takes off both your messed up blouse and your bra. Then, he cups your boobs with his large and warm palms and takes the time to admire your picked nipples - caused by the cold air on your burning skin and your horniness. His mouth dives onto your nipples and he rolls his tongue around it, sucks on it and gently bites it. The simulation of this sensitive zone causes you to moan his name. You tell him to take off his shirt - honestly, who will say no to sneak on his perfect body?

You flick his firm chest and abs. He is way too handsome with no shirt on. But Jungkook doesn't give you too much time to enjoy the show because he unzips your black slacks and slides them down with your panties. Completely naked, you feel his glaze on you and you blush when he licks his lips, ready to eat you out.

"You are so beautiful" He whispers before he kneels down to kiss your pussy.

A choked whimper escapes your mouth. Feeling Jungkook's lips on you, and especially on your wet pussy, is electrifying. A wave of arousal washes over your body. He eats you out like a starved man. You feel your juice mixed with his saliva dripping down to your ass and your pussy clenches on nothing until Jungkook hears your silenced prayers and enters you with two fingers.

"Oh my god!" You exclaim at the sudden and delightful stretch

"I love how tight you are, babe"

You barely hear his voice because his mouth is glued to your clit but the pet name drives you crazy. You're losing your head, trying to grip the corner of the table not to lose your sanity under these perfect tongue flicks. Jungkook enhances the pace of his fingers, hitting your g-spot every time. You can't take it any longer and you feel your orgasm building up in your body so fast that you can't even tell Jungkook - not that he needs you to speak because your walls around his fingers getting tighter tell enough. You scream his name when you reach your climax, spams of pleasure all over your body.

You look literally fucked up and it's what Jungkook wanted. Seeing and even feeling your pleasure makes him horny. He can feel his hard cock completely squeezed in his pants, it's uncomfortable. You naked is a view he wishes to see everyday. At this thought, he can't help but caressing his dick through the fabric of his clothes and he kisses your inner thighs, he even bites them gently. The contact of his teeth on your sensitive skin makes you flinch. He knows damn well how to use his pretty mouth... He ends up sucking on your inner thigh skin to leave a mark. He loves thinking that you're his, even if it's just for a moment. His possessiveness doesn't just turn him on, it does the same to you. Someway, you are proud he wants you the same way you want him, and you do want to be his. And you want him to be yours.

You are out of breathe, slowly reaching down on Earth after being beyond clouds. You don't think straight and that's why your mouth speaks without consulting your brain.

"I want you" You hear your raspy post-orgasm voice says

Jungkook kisses you, some of your juice mixing in your mouth with your and his salivas. He leaves you just a few seconds and comes back with a metallic square packet in his hand.

"Are you sure?" He asks you

"Yes"

You have no doubt. You want Jungkook. You want to feel the closest you can, you want to feel him in you.

He kisses you, more gently than before, almost in a romantic way, before taking off his pants and underwear. The sight cuts your breathe: his cock is already hard. You can't deny that a new wave of wetness shakes your pussy. You wonder how stretching will his thick length be, you know he will fill you completely.

He puts the condom on, and gives himself a few pumps before placing his body closer to yours, right between your opened legs. The few seconds you have to wait to feel him are like torture. The emptiness of your pussy and the beautiful view of his hard cock so close to you makes you shiver in an impatient horniness. You're losing your mind, but it's even worse when Jungkook takes his length and slides upon your dripping pussy. You moan and then whine in pleasure when you feel it rubbing your swollen clit, causing a spam in all your body. His hard cock on your sensitive bud is the most delightful thing in the whole world.

"Jungkook, please" You beg

Once again, you don't know how much you are turning him on with your plea. "What a good girl", he thinks when he finally enters you. Slowly. Making you feel each inch stretching you and causing your mouth to open. It's so big, painful. It's so good. You don't really know if it's his cock or the realization of him filling you up but you are, once again, on the edge of your orgasm. However, you want this delightful sin to last as long as possible. That's why, when he is deep inside you, all his thick dick swallowed by your cunt, you put a hand on his firm abs to stop him from moving. You need to control yourself and take deep breathes. He is standing up, having the greatest view of your entire perfect body. Even though his position makes him dominant, on the inside, you are shaking everything in Jungkook. You could ask him anything, he would say 'yes'.

"You're so good" Jungkook says in a raspy voice before pecking you, this small gesture squeezes your heart with sweetness

When you begin to whimper from the lack of the now needed sliding, Jungkook gets the message and starts bumping. He begins quite slow but enhances the pace at each single bang. Your breasts bounces at the same rhythm and it's a call for him to grab your boob with his tattooed hand. His skin is even hotter than yours and the feeling is so damn good. His touch is like a delicious burn on your skin. His left hand keeps you in place while he penetrates you again and again. He enters you with all his length each time, hitting your g-spot. The pace is the perfect one: just providing the good amount of pain before it's unbearable. But what is unbearable is the arousal growing even bigger in your body.

"Oh my fucking god!"

"You're taking me so good, Y/N. So fucking perfect"

His head spins by the amount of pleasure. It's the pleasure of stretching your tight pussy but also of being the one in you. He keeps telling to himself how beautiful you are and how perfect your pussy feels around his cock, just like you were made for him. He wants each pounding to remind you that, at this moment, you're his and he's yours. There is nothing in the world but your two bodies being one.

He leans down to kiss you messily. You grab his hair and moan his name in his mouth. How can you survive so much pleasure? It's not just his perfect cock, Jungkook exactly knows how to move. He seems to know what you like, what you want and he gives it to you at the exact right time. That's why it's the best, best, best sex in your life.

"Are you so wet just for me?" His voice is full of cockiness and it makes you crazy, even his possessiveness creates a wave of arousal between your legs and makes your walls clench around him. "Answer me" He orders, giving a slap on the side of your ass, tightening your pussy even more and Jungkook mentally notes that you like that.

"Yes! Yes!" You repeat the only words you manage to say

"You're such a good girl" You can hear his smirk in his breathless voice, and it's fucking hot

You are so close, his cock stretching and pounding your dripping cunt. Jungkook feels your pussy clenching and he smirks. His inked hand leaves your breast to rub your clit, tightening your walls even more. It begins to be hard for him to enter you smoothly when you're so tight.

"Oh my god, Jungkook!" You moan, fighting to keep your eyes open just to see his face full of horniness and his messy-fuck hair sticked on his forehead. He is so perfect, so handsome. His puffy lips are slightly open and you swear that when he looks into your eyes, you can see his soul for a second.

"So fucking tight" He says with his jaws clenched, trying to not cum before you "Cum for me, babe. Cum around my cock"

His puzzling possessiveness towards you pushes him to fuck you harder. Eyes closed by the overwhelming wave of arousal, you have no idea that Jungkook is still watching you. So beautiful with your face torn by pleasure. He wishes to be the only one to witness it, the only one to provide you such an orgasm. And in fact, you've never cummed this hard. You get choked up, unable to make any noise, when you feel the most alive than you've ever felt - you don't even know if you're still on Earth - but Jungkook keeps fucking you through your orgasm. The overstimulation is almost too painful. Almost.

"Please, please" You groan

You don't know if it's for him to stop, to continue or to urge him to feel how good cumming right now is. Anyway, just a few poundings are enough for Jungkook after your little begging to fill the condom.

You are both panting and sweaty. Jungkook almost collapses on you and your burning skins melt into each other's. You feel so... overwhelmed. You don't even know what you're feeling right now except that you want to feel him closer. Not physically because you can't be closer than that - especially when Jungkook is still inside you - but emotionally. Your shaky hands - caused by the orgasms or your emotion - caresses his sticky hair. Jungkook throws his strong arms around you and rests his head on your breast, listening to your pounding heart. The feeling of your fingers playing with his black strands is soothing, he likes it. No, he loves it. He has never felt like this, in complete peace. He knows he is where he is to be.

You're happy Jungkook can't see your face because two big tears escape your eyes for an indeterminate reason. Well, actually, deep down, you know the reason but you're not ready to accept it just yet. Thankfully, you have time to dry your eyes before Jungkook lifts his pretty head and kisses you. A real, beautiful, perfect kiss. A kiss that says everything, every truth of the world and even more. Or is it your imagination because of your foggy post-amazing-orgasm brain?

Jungkook straightens up slowly and pulls out from you. The void between your legs is unpleasant, like a piece of you is missing. He grabs your hand to help to get off the table. Your weak and shaky legs abandon you but Jungkook's quick reflexes prevent you from hitting the ground.

"Wooh, easy cowboy" He laughs, kissing your temples

Why does he have to be so cute right now? Your legs are not the only part of your body to be weak at this moment: your heart is too. And his bunny smile, his adorable doe eyes and his scrunched nose are a huge threat.

You try to push this thoughts away and concentrate on stabilizing yourself. When you feel like you won't directly drop, you carefully let go of Jungkook's support.

"I should go take a shower" You say with a still raspy voice

"Sure, I'll give you a towel. And a t-shirt" He tells you playfully, glancing at your yellow once blouse.

You try to clean yourself quickly to give way to Jungkook but you still take the time to appreciate the smell of his body wash. It's not the usual strong and manly scent but a sophisticate amber and lemony fragrance. You realize it's perfect for Jungkook: mannish but soft at the same time. Okay, your brain is definitely not working well if you think his body wash is a mirror for his personality...

Out of the bathroom with the clean oversize black t-shirt and a pair of boxers that Jungkook gave you, you see him cleaning the diner table dressed only with his underwear. The mesmerizing view makes you blush. You don't say anything to enjoy the show a little longer. But Jungkook eventually notices you and gives you a genuine smile.

"You can choose a movie while I go shower, if you want"

He says that so naturally. Does that mean he expects you to stay over? Not that you complain but last time he left, so you kind of supposed you'd have to leave too. You are in fact really happy to stay and to spend more time with Jungkook after this intimate moment. Does he feel like something changed too? It was not only the sex but the few minutes after, while you were pressed against each other. You know what aftercare is but it was more than that.

———

"What are you doing this weekend?" Jungkook asks you

The movie has been going on for almost a hour now. You were surprised - but so happy - when Jungkook sat next to you and pulled closer, his arm around your shoulders. The fact that you smelled the same kind of made your heart beat faster. Silly, you thought. It was so good that you didn't want to think it was anything more than after-sex moment because if Jungkook decided to not see you again, you knew it would hurt you.

But now, he is asking for this weekend. So maybe, just maybe, he wants to see you again. Maybe to start something more serious?

"I have a thing Saturday. But I'm free Friday night and Sunday" You try to control your smile. "What about you?"

"I was thinking we could go to the Lotte aquarium. Have you been there?"

"Never" You answer, remembering that Suzi and you always talked about visiting it but always ended up doing something else. "I'd love to go"

You bite your lower lip to prevent you from asking "Is it a date?".

"Great" Jungkook smiles at you with his cute bunny smile, relieved that you agreed to go out with him. "What are your plans for Saturday, if it's okay for me to ask?"

"One of my friends is graduating from high school"

"You have young friends!" He jokes

"Yah, I'm not that old! You, on the other hand, can't say the same" You tease and he looks falsely offended

"Come on, Y/N, I'm like three years older"

You don't really think before kissing Jungkook. It's only when you pull your lips apart that you realize that you got carried away by the flirty situation and that you might have crossed a line.

Seeing the panic in your eyes, Jungkook reassures you by kissing you. Himself can't get enough of your pretty lips. Being with you, watching a movie, having you in his arms seems so natural to him. As it's always have been like that. He doesn't know why, and he doesn't even try to understand. He just wants to enjoy it.

And he does. All night. You sleeping in his bed is a blessing, almost a dream. That's why he wraps your body with an arm: he makes sure that you won't disappear. He can't deny that this fear comes with old demons that he tries to push away.

———

"Jongseob!" You scream your friend's name like a proud mom

He is wearing his high school uniform and, something unusual, he has styled his caramel hair - and yes, he has been punished for dying his hair. However, you can't yell at him when he is this cute.

"Noona!"

He immediately jumps at you and you notice that he has grown since the last time you saw him a few month ago.

"I'm so, so proud of you" You tell him, hugging him tightly. "I have something for you"

Jongseob grabs the bag you hand him and takes a look. His almond eyes sparkles and his lovely smile gets bigger. He looks genuinely happy to discover the new video game he told you about and a full box of donuts from your favorite coffee shop.

You are moved to see him happy. It's a drastic change from your first encounter and each time you think about it, your heart is painfully squeezed. It was three years ago. Suzi had sent you a text to tell you that she would be late. Grumbling, you decided to start shopping for the weekend party without her. You were strolling in Myeongdong when you heard some strange noises coming from a narrowed alley. A small group of high schoolers were having fun. Or that's what you thought at first. But watching carefully, you noticed that four of them were, indeed having fun from bullying a younger boy. You felt panicked, sad and angry. You didn't think a second before rushing toward them and yelling at them. They might have think you were crazy.

"If you touch him again, I swear to God that I will make you regret being born" You told them

It was not really your threat but the fading amusement that made them leave. When you turned around, you saw this scared but cute boy. You hugged him tightly and told him that he'd never be alone again. After that, you both sat at your now favorite coffee and you payed him a donut. Since then, Jongseob is like your little brother. You really, purely love each other. And you are so, so proud of him: he is more confident now and he graduates with special mention.

You can see in Jongseob's eyes that he is also thinking about your first encounter. Both of you have watery eyes now. He's never told you that he thinks you're his guardian angel. You helped him so much that he made a promise to himself: he will work hard and will give everything you want. He will take care of you the same way you took care of him. You're the person who knows him the most, like a big sister, his Noona.

You let him go join his classmates and you sit on the bleachers to follow the graduation. Pride brightens your eyes and warms your heart. When the headmaster calls 'Kim Jongseob', he stands up, takes his diploma and looks for you in the crowd. When his eyes meet yours, he waves at you with his certificate, a perfect sign of success after all he's been through.

"Noona, I'm not a kid anymore" Jongseob complains when you hand him a hot chocolate

You roll your eyes. After the ceremony, you invited him at the coffee shop and ordered the usual: a hot chocolate for Jongseob, a latte for you and two glazed lemon donuts - you told him to bring back home the ones you gave him earlier.

"Yah! It's not because you're not in high school anymore that you can't drink hot chocolate. Come on, I know you love it"

With a sigh, Jongseob gives up the protest and takes a sip. The sweet flavor makes him forget why he wanted anything else.

"I'm so proud of you"

"Stop! You said that a hundred times today"

"I know but it's true"

You can't control your emotion. Like you said earlier, you look like a proud mom and you are not going to be sorry for that. Moreover, you know that Jongseob is secretly happy to know how you feel about him, his own parents are not very supportive.

Jongseob's phone rings and he immediately jumps on it. He reads the text, blushes and answers. You squint and wait for him to put down the device. Jongseob notices the suspicious and amused expression on your face.

"What?" He asks, blushing harder

"Don't you have something to tell me?" You take a sip of your latte, trying to act detached while you're dying to know all the details

"There is this girl, Jiwon, she is so pretty and nice. We-we talk, that's all"

"You like her?"

"I-I think"

Jongseob is too cute when he is shy. He is a good guy, you have no doubt that Jiwon will see it too. You are also happy that he found someone, a friend, to talk to. After being bullied, it was hard for him to trust other people and you were the only one he talked to. But you have noticed a slight change in him: he is more open to others and, even if they can't be described as 'friends', he spends some time with them.

"What about you, Noona?"

"There is this guy, Jungkook, he is so pretty and nice" You tease him and Jongseob gently slaps your arm to make you stop. "I'm kidding! But for real, there is a guy. I don't really know what we are"

Actually, you are glad to talk about Jungkook to someone. You know you can talk to Suzi but she is too implicated so Jongseob can help you see things differently, especially when he doesn't know Jungkook.

"What would you like you two to be?"

It's a simple question. And yet, you never thought about it. When you're with Jungkook, you feel so good. He makes you happy, alive and it's more than just sex. The physical attraction you've had for him for months became something deeper when you started spending time with him. It's also scary how such a short time was enough for your heart and your brain to be full of Jungkook.

"I... want him" You whisper "I feel alive when I'm with him. I don't know how to explain but I want to be with him"

"What are you wanting for?"

You look at Jongseob with a surprised and confused look. He looks so confident - you don't know that it's thank to you that he can be.

"Go tell him. You have nothing to loose. And honestly, if this Jungkook guy doesn't want to be with you, he sucks"

Jongseob's cute smile gives you courage. He gives you a 'go girl!' look. You grab you bag, kiss Jongseob on his chubby cheek and waves him goodbye.

———

The bus ride allowed you to organize your speech. You feel so fucking stressed. Your heart beats loudly in your chest. You know that it's not easy to lay yourself bare and confess your feelings but you also know that you shared something real with Jungkook. You can't be the only one to feel this way, he must feel it too.

You arrive at the closest bus stop to Jungkook's. You place your hand on your crazy beating heart and take a deep breathe. It's okay, nothing can go wrong. You walk to his building and you are surprised to see him, standing up next to his Mercedes. You are ready to call him out but you throat goes dry when you see a girl hugging him.

What the hell?

You are close enough to hear them talking. But this can't be happening. It's all a misunderstanding, like in movies. The girl took him for someone else, or Jungkook is going to push her away. But no. The ground is opening under your feet, swallowing you. However, it's even more painful when you hear what they are saying.

"Kookie, I need you" The girl says in Jungkook's chest

"I'm here, I'm not leaving you"

Each word coming from his mouth is a dragger in your broken heart.

He wraps his arms around the fragile girl's body, an awful reminder that he's done the exact same thing to you just a few days ago.

"I love you" She says

Please, don't. Don't say it.

"I love you too"

previous ← 4 → next

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

kinda part 2 of the suicidal yuu thing, uhhhh that is a request?? kinda??? i really want to here your thoughts about it and one of the reasons why i sent it to you is because i think you have something amazing to add. (also because i love sad yuu)

Missing Yuu

How they mourn over the loss of their best friend— I kinda inspired/off topic sorry

TWs: GN Yuu. Mostly platonic Some have romantic subtexts like pining and such. In Vils, Jamils, and Idia’s it is implied more explicitly that Yuu took their own life. There are references to songs and movies from Yuus world, specifically Ponyo Time/Space +Mary by Alex G and BaBopByeYa by Janelle Monae. Game refernced but theyre listed in Idias section. (Also for any nerds ik that isnt how MKW’s ghost data works but shhh imagine the angst,

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul thought he was done mourning. It’s been years since you died, he actually remembers that entire month vividly to this day. How he was in his office, sorting through some papers and awaiting his tea from Jade. It took longer than expected. He would surely accept this from Floyd, but Jade of all mer? Disgruntledly, Azul gets off and goes out to look for the eel. He was only a few steps out of his office when he hears some faint sobbing. Oh dear, that's not good for business…

“Yer lying!” Floyd sobs as Jade holds onto his brother with a particularly grim expression, everyone in the lounge gone silent, each patron not daring to disturb the conversation unfolding out of pity. “Floyd, there is no reason to be mad at Deuce, he’s only the messenger.” “What’s going on here?” Azul asked sternly, getting ready to shoo out the Heartslabyul member. “Ah, there you are Azul.” The spade said, with defeat in his voice.

Nothing Deuce said registered in his head the minute he heard ‘Yuu is dead’. The words strung together were incomprehensible to him. Yuu? Gone? As if! That little prefect was always in everyone’s business! They went up against blots for the sevens sake! They couldn't be dead! But as Deuce continued to speak, the reality started to set in as they handed Azul a small box. “They wanted you to have this.”

The Lounge was closed for a few weeks afterward, the entire school seemed to be in shock. That entire month he couldn't even think right, his mind seemingly blocking out the existence of the prefect he grew to adore. It was only when he saw the twins mourning in their own ways, did it remind him. How Floyd would always keep the handmade eel plush Yuu made on his person, keeping it in the best condition possible despite his messy personality. Jade had a new accessory on his person as well, a small bag shaped like a Fly Agaric mushroom, it went with him everywhere even if it wasn't the most practical. In the gardens, Azul found himself wandering over to your small plot, where you kept your own crops, sitting next to Jade as he continued to care for your plants after your passing.

It was because of you, did he and the tweels he worked alongside closely become friends after all these years. A few years ago he couldn't even imagine seeing them as such, they were merely business partners, a means to an end. Yet now the three of them actually hang out or just… talk.

When he is alone at night does his mind wander as he opens the beat-up box to look at his own gift, memories flooding in from the device in hand…

You were in the VIP room, he doesn’t even remember why, when he heard you reference a few movies from your world. “It was good I ended up being summoned with some of my things, I honestly don't know what I’d do without anything from my world, especially my comfort shows.” They mentioned offhand, chopping it up with Floyd.

“Though we don't have mermaids in my world, we do have a lot of TV shows about them. I wonder how they hold up here?” Azul continued to scribble on his papers as he eavesdropped. “Oh, I know! What if we have a sleepover and binge-watch some of them, maybe you guys can rate how accurate or offensive they are!” Floyd practically squealed with glee at the idea, and he knew he had no choice in the matter.

It was the end of senior year now, and he was packing his things to head to his home in the Coral Sea. He also never thought he would go back there too, but he supposed spending some time with his family should do some good. As he packed everything out of his safe, he examined the box that he was given on that fateful day, old and torn up, and he opened it up again.

An alien laptop attached to a projector was inside. On a piece of paper were the password and log in. It was also ironically one of his best projects to demonstrate his magic comprehension. One of his finals was to prove he knew how to do a proper protection spell, and what better to protect than one of his most prized possessions, more valuable than the coins he loved to collect?

Azul remembers the praise he was given by one of the professors that visited NRC. The spell was one of the most powerful he’s ever seen! Not even a fingerprint could be left on the thing, and it was completely waterproof as well! But what was he wasn't expecting to be praised for was the device itself. “Now did you make this thing, Mr.Ashengrotto? I must say it is quite impressive! I have never seen this sort of technology before!”

The mage was blindsided by the praise, not even knowing how to react. He wanted to stop the professor, correct him, say that his friend was the one who made it, but the words seemed to die on his tongue. If he talks about you right now, he would cry, and if he cries that means you mattered to him, and he still doesn’t know how to feel about that. He didn’t even call you his friend when you were alive, calling such a term now seemed unfair. And yet you were. You are arguably the first friend he ever had. The first friend the trio even had, and he didn't even have the courage to consider you one until you died.

Azul held onto the box as he and his friends pass through the mirror, promising to all meetup and hang out again soon as they made their way home. His mother was the first to greet him in a tight hug as she rambled on about how much she missed him and how proud she was of him, how she made his favorite, and how she can't wait to celebrate his graduation. His grandmother greeted him from the kitchen as he and his stepfather carried in the few boxes he took with him back to his room.

His mother soon came in to help him unpack, and she stumbled across the old torn box from earlier. Azul didn't even realize she opened it until he heard it open and a familiar tune played.

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, Little fishie in the sea~

Tiny little fishie, who could you really be?~

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, magic sets you free~

“Ahahaha! Is this some sort of kid's show, shrimpy?” “Hey! Ponyo is for all ages, firstly! Secondly, it's my favorite movie and it's mermaid themed!” The prefect defended themselves from Floyd's teasing. Azul chuckled in agreement with Floyd's words as he made himself comfortable on the couch with Jade. “Well so far there is nothing offensive in this movie, however, I do find it offensive that you see us as children, Yuu.”

“I don’t! Im just trying to show you my favorite movie first!” Yuu bit back at Jade's snark as the tune plays, the prefect messing with the computer and the projector attached to it to project it onto the white curtains of their dorm. Azul never expected to even care about some stupid kid's movie, yet as it drew out he was completely invested. The brightly colored film even manages to keep Floyd enraptured until the end. Jade commented on how much of a delight it was.

They continued into the night, watching show after show, some corny, some fun. “This is far from accurate!” Azul huffs, “People actually watch this where you're from?” “H2O Just Add Water was a big deal for a while actually!” “I’m curious prefect, is this how you thought mers were?” Jade teased, leading to another mini-argument.

“Haha! Imagine if we actually turned into mermaids if we touch water though! That would be funny~” Floyd chuckled, reaching onto the table filled with food and snacks and shoving a handful of candy into his mouth. The atmosphere was lively, and the night was perfect, he had never been so relaxed before, especially around his dormmates, it felt almost domestic in a way— was this what it was like to have friends?

The very next day it was back to normal, but that stupid little movie kept playing in his mind. He would rather die than admit it was his new favorite movie, however, but it seems Yuu always knew. Their gift proved that.

Azul seemed to freeze in place as the sound from the laptop continued. “Son?” His stepfather asked as he watch the mer shake. He thought he was done mourning. A sudden sob of anguish escaped his throat as he nearly screamed, years of guilt and sadness coming out all at once. Azul sobbed into his parent's arms, choking back sobs as he apologized, stuttering out gibberish as he inked. He never told them about you, he never even told him about his overblot, but tonight, he will, you would have wanted him to heal.

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, Little fishie in the sea~

Tiny little fishie, who could you really be?~

Ponyo, Ponyo, Ponyo, magic sets you free~

Oh pretty fishie, will you swim back to me?~

Jamil Viper

His parents never gave him the time to mourn, even when Kalim told them it was okay. “You need to watch over him!” His mother scolded. “He is our employer's son! If anything happens to him—“ Jamil blanked out at the rest, his mind immediately shutting when he was getting yelled at for the sin of grief. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he would have probably yelled at them. Actually, he wished he did, it’s what you would have wanted for him.

Jamil never expected to be so close to you of all people, and he especially never expected you to understand him. But, you did. In fact, you stood up for him. He remembers how you would often distract Kalim for his sake, allowing him to get some much-needed rest from being at his beck and call 24/7. You helped him with his chores as well. He doesn’t even remember when you officially became his friend, it just felt so natural.

Finally, after all of these years, he had someone that cared about him, that listened to him, that understood him. He could never confide in anyone until you came around. He remembers vividly talking about his parents off-hand while you were in his room. He didn’t mean to vent about them, you just asked how they were doing since they sent him a letter and it all came out.

They barely even wrote to him, they only asked about Kalim, it's like he doesn't even exist! They don’t do this to Namja, not that they should, he loves his sister, but it is just so… frustrating. It’s just like he's just an extension of someone else!

He didn’t even realize he was crying until you put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” Jamil whispered. “Don’t be.” You smiled at him, a warm, genuine understanding smile. You didn’t speak as he vented, and you didn’t try to offer solutions or pity, you just listened and validated him, the very first and only person who has ever done that. The topic soon changed to music, he thinks it's because you brought up some of the headphones he had in his room, and you both exchanged your opinions on the subject.

“The music here is so similar yet so different from my world, it's good don't get me wrong, it's just… strange.” “What is the music from your world like?” He asked as you swung your legs on the edge of your bed. “Uhh, what's genre you like? I’ll try to find something similar on here.” You held up your phone as Jamil started describing the music he liked.

After a moment, a song played from your phone. Beautifully unique instrumental unlike anything he's ever heard started playing. He started to understand what you mean by similar but different. The singer began to vocalize, but the language was utterly incomprehensible, the language unlike anything he has heard.

“Oh right, I forgot, language barrier, different dimensions, hold on!” The student took off the enchanted necklace given to them at the beginning of the year and handed it to him. Jamil hesitantly took it, clasping it around his neck. The minute it clasped around him, the lyrics suddenly started making sense.

I hear echoes of your laughter

In the corners of my mind

As I memorize each detail of your intricate design

In your hair, there is symphony

Your lips, a string quartet

They tell stories of the neon valley street where we first met

Now somewhere time pursues us

As we love in technicolor

But I dwell in silence of your words that move me like none other

This time I shall be unafraid

And violence will not move me

This time we will relax

This time we will stay in our movie

“Woah…” Jamil whispers. “I know trippy right?” You asked the interdimensional gibberish from their lips suddenly making sense. “Hearing you speak my language sounds so surreal, it suits you though!” You smile. “Oh if you like this song, I know another one you're gonna love!”

You were such a great friend, you still did everything you could for him despite your own situation, so he reciprocated. You couldn’t eat today because Crowley had you run all his errands? Good thing he made an extra lunch today, for no reason of course. No time to study because of that overblot that happened? Oh no, it sure would be a shame if his old graded assignments with the correct answers written on them got mixed up in your stuff.

He didn’t explicitly state his intentions, it would take him a while for him to truly open up and say what he meant because of his upbringing, but you didn't care. You understood. And he was here for you the same way you were there for him. When you complained about your master's most recent demands, he was there to listen the same you did when he complained about his.

He was devastated when he heard the news of your death. If it wasn’t for years of keeping his composure, he would have fallen apart then and there. He felt sick, the earth was suddenly spinning around him. Everything Crowley announced after was a blur, Jamil didn’t even realize Crowley was talking to him until he said his name for the third time. A small box was held out to him, note attached to it in Yuu’s handwriting.

Jamil took the box and continued to stare off into space until the announcements came to a close. Kalim was inconsolable as they walked back to the dorm. Kalim wiped his tears holding onto his own box, and both wordlessly went into their rooms, needing time for themselves. The minute the door shut behind him, Jamil let out a cry of pure agony, collapsing onto his bed as he wept.

For the next few weeks, Kalim tried his best to not rely on Jamil, even ordering him to take a vacation though he didn't have the power to do so, it was ultimately up to his family. Still, Jamil appreciated the sentiment. Kalim would try to cook for himself and do his own makeup, even if it wasn't the best. It was ironic that even in death you continued to help with Kalim, your death making Kalim more independent, and mending their relationship by proxy

Jamil hadn’t opened the box yet, nor read the note. He hasn't had the courage to, but tonight was different. He opened the small box, peering at the device inside. It was an MP3 player of sorts, he assumed, along with a pair of high-quality earbuds. His eyes watered too much to read the note properly, but he did see the password to the device. Pulling out the device, he noticed that the necklace Yuu used was also in the box.

Jamil clipped the necklace onto himself and entered the password. He placed the earbuds into his ears and swiped through the device. He paused as he saw the albums you created for yourself with all sorts of names. Study Playlist, Rock, Love Songs and Pining, and one simply titled For Jamil.

He shakily tapped on it. More tears rolled down his cheeks as he scrolled through all of the songs you put in it, all of them songs of genres or vibes you thought he would have loved. It would be too much to listen to it right now. He tapped back to the list of albums and kept scrolling though, abruptly stopping at one album.

This Time I’m Really Gonna Do It, it was titled. He tapped on it and immediately started the playlist. Most songs were about loneliness, homesickness, derealization, self-harm. Jamil sat, hunched over, laser-focused on the lyrics of each song.

Mary is the one that leaves you to rot.

She says I am real and you are not.

She says

I am real

And you are not…

Jamil began to sob again as he listened as it all sunk in for him. You were gone, and for the entire time you were here, this is how you felt. You were always there for him. You always comforted him. And he couldn’t do the same for you. If he was just there a little more, if he just truly asked and truly listened would you still be here? If he asked about your family and your home, would you have been able to find it easier here? If he were more honest…. As he sobbed another song started playing, lyrics resonating deep within him as it played.

Hold on tight to this time this place,

Cause everything you know will be erased.

You were born inside your head.

And that is where you’ll go when you are dead.

Vil Shoenheit

When he received the news of your passing, he decided to take a break from the spotlight, announcing his hiatus to his manager and his social media. He was less strict in ruling dorm, and much more forgiving of Epel's outburst of rage, knowing that he was mourning in his own way. Rook was a blessing with how much he understood and stepped up to give Vil a break, an unspoken thank you between the two of them.

Vil kept you in his mind while doing everything for a while. Even as he applied his skincare he found his mind explaining it to himself as if it was his first time. He imagined explaining the process to the overworked prefect who seemed to never have enough time to care for their skin, or afford it. “Now exfoliate gently in circles like so,” his mind would say, and he would close his eyes and pretend he was doing it to you. He never even got the chance to gift you the cleanser he made for you.

As he prepares his salads, he finds himself making an extra one on the side. He remembers how you would occasionally complain about skipping meals because of Crowley, and he would imagine that if you were still here, he would have given the meal to you while lightly scolding you.

When he applies his makeup, he experiments slightly in the way you would. You seldom wore makeup with how busy your schedule was. The few times he saw you with it, he remembered you mentioning that one of your friends did it for you. If you were given the materials and time, how would you have applied it? Would you use a brush or sponge for your foundation? Perhaps your eyeliner would follow the trends from your world?

As he led his club, he remembered what you would mention about the shows from your world and how you viewed magic from an Outlander's perspective. He found himself looking at some of the graphic novels and manga from your world that you lent him before you passed. You said they were made into movies, some good but most bad. As he flipped the pages he saw the sticky notes you wrote on each one, translating the foreign language for him. Your handwriting was comforting.

He wondered which one of these were your favorite as he read, admiring the storylines. How did movies work where you were from? Did you miss them? This comics would make for a good one, maybe he can direct one based on them…

Vil didn’t want to use social media, but he opened it up to go and find yours. Going onto some of the freshman’s socials, he found you in their followers. You were a private account, and he couldn’t see any of your posts. He mindlessly requested a follow, not expecting to be let in immediately— you must have already been following him, and he couldn't help but go through your entire account.

You didn’t follow a lot of people, and only your friends along with a few bots followed you. Most of the posts were of photos around NRC or of friends along with some inside jokes. Some posts consisted of memes or images that weren’t like anything of that of his world, captions talking about how much you miss home. The horrible realization of you being an Outlander seemed to sink in even more at the caption. No one here truly knew you, you had very few to remember you. Your family will never even know what happened to you, that you died. Vil shut off his phone, regretting his decision to reopen Magicam.

The Dormleader even found himself eating a bit unhealthily, in moderation of course. He remembered how you would practically shove everything down your throat before having to go off and do your next task without any etiquette whatsoever. He even remembers Epel saving up to buy junk food and sweets to give to you as gifts. Apparently, you couldn't afford them or had nothing like them in your world. He even remembers the captions of you complaining of only eating one thing all day and such.

He requested Epel to tell him some of your favorite desserts you enjoyed or the ones he planned on getting for you, perhaps he could understand you more if he ate them, or perhaps consume them for you since you never got the opportunity to enjoy them. Epel had no use for his gifts anymore, so he shoved most of them into the communal fridge.

In one of his runs, Vil noticed that the freshman’s mood seemed to sour more as his phone continued to ping. “Epel. Your phone. Either turn it on silent or respond.” Vil reprimanded. “Ugh, I can't! They keep finding me on everythin’! Even harrasin’ my folks at home!” Vils brows knitted together, “What are you talking about?”

“Ever since you followed Yuu or something like that I’ve been getting a buncha DMs and stuff asking if I knew anything about you or who Yuu is to you, seriously it’s driving me insane! It's happening to Ace and the others too! Assholes doxxed me and even got my number so I can't just block em.” Epel wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. “Can't even be left alone to mourn…”

“Let me see them.” Vil opened Epel's social phone, seeing notification after notification pop up. Opening his social media, he saw that even with the restricted access and privating of his account, almost all of the comments were about him.

>Hey! Hey! Hey! Do you know Vil???

>Please DM me for an interview!

>Hello there Mr.Epel, do you know a person named Yuu?

>Do you know who Yuu is to Vil??? Are they like together or something???

The sight made Vil feel sick as he turned off the phone and handed it back to Epel. “I’ll take care of this Epel, I’m sorry you have to put up with this.” Vil knew making a simple announcement wouldn’t be enough. He sighs as he sends a message to his manager, requesting her to get him an interview.

***

Vil sits up straight on the seat across from the interviewer, going over introductions and greetings as the camera rolls, broadcasting everything live. The interview goes smoothly. Vil already has his answers to simple questions about his career memorized. “So, Vil, I’m sure you are aware of the recent news going on about who you followed.” Vil nods, throat suddenly going dry. “Yes, I didn’t know that it would blow up if I’m being honest.”

The interviewer laughs for a moment. “So who’s this ‘Yuu’ person now? It’s not every day you follow a private personal account, they anyone special?” Yes, yes they are Vil thinks. Vil takes a deep breath. “I actually want to address the recent drama regarding them,” Vil pauses to hold back a stutter, it was strange, why was he being so emotional now of all times?

“Yuu is…” There were so many ways to describe them, but nothing came out. “They are no longer with us. They have passed away recently and…” Vil wiped away tears forming in his eyes. “I want to ask everyone to please stop harassing everyone, they are all— we are all mourning their loss and…” Vil suddenly chokes back a sob, and the weight of it all suddenly starts to sink as grief envelops him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to stop this interview here, I need… I need some time for myself…”

Vil stands up and goes off-screen, covering his mouth with his fist as he walks off. On the car ride back to NRC he hesitantly turns on his phone, looking at the notifications that pop up. Opening his Magicam, he looks through some of his comments, most of which are now apologies from overbearing fans and inquiries about his mental state. One notification stands out from the rest, a small red dot near his messages. Tapping on it he sees a DM from no other than Neige LeBlanche himself asking if he was alright and that he was always here for him.

“How could you forgive everyone around you for mistreating you?” The blond asked the prefect in front of them. “Everyone here has treated you horribly.” The prefect merely shrugged, “It’s much better to make a friend out of an enemy than to destroy them, after all my first meeting with Ace and Grim was far from perfect.” They chuckled before sipping on their drink as they sat across from the model. “If I started shutting out everyone because of a few bad experiences, I would have never met you. Besides, I can't let things get to me that easily!” The last part is now ironic as Vil reminisces.

Vil wiped another tear, before pressing accept on the DM request.

Idia Shroud

It was like it never happened. You were just offline, the Shroud reasoned upon seeing your profiles on everything no longer active. To an outsider, it was like Idia didn’t care, he continued on his computer without a tear shed.

To Ortho, however, it was obvious that everything he was doing was to preserve what was left of you. You were summoned with a few items, one of them being some portable gaming device that was now his. Idia remembers when you first showed it to him when he was curious about how games were from your world. He remembered you were a bit upset that you couldn't play a majority of the games together as it required two devices, and Idia being as tech savvy as he was merely snickered before hooking up the device to his computer and copying the files.

A bit of coding and emulating later, the young man now had an entire library of interdimensional games on his pc for him to enjoy, and now he can join your sessions online. From farming sims to FPS, he thoroughly enjoyed all of it, fascinated at how similar yet different everything is. Certain buttons are mixed up, common gaming terminology from his world wasn’t used.

He would often join you in all sorts of random games. Even games he never thought he would enjoy like that weird ‘Skate 3’, ‘Power Washing Simulator’, ‘Raft’, ‘Animal Crossing’ or even ‘Stardew Valley’. It was fun to visit your farm or island, or to skate with you, or even to power wash things. There were so many fun and unique games that your world had, and since your passing, he wanted to try and share it with everyone. He didn’t have time to mourn with how busy he was!

The games you brought over made him happy, and now he wanted to share that feeling with everyone else in a way to honor you. The media wondered why STYX of all companies started releasing a bunch of free games to download. The only thing they charged money for was the soundtrack, where all of the proceeds went to mental health and suicide prevention programs.

All the time he spent on his computer was him testing every game you had and adjusting them to work on these world’s devices with ease. Occasionally when he got to a game you especially adored, he would add a few features that he remembered you mentioning wishing were in it before uploading them. Each game's credits had you listed in them as one of the creators as well.

When he wanted to take a break, he ended up playing his new favorite game, Skate 3. He didn’t necessarily care about the gameplay however, rather it was a feature he learned about only after you died. Even when your friends were offline, their character would occasionally appear and skate with you. It was the only way he could ever hope of playing with you again, and every time he finds your character, he pretends that for a moment you are in your dorm on your couch hopping on with him.

He still on occasion opens your other games and cares for your Animal Crossing island, your Minecraft dog, or crops in Stardew Valley. Ortho would also occasionally play one of those multiplayer games with him too like Mario Party, Halo, Terraria, or Smash Bros. Ortho was mourning you as well, you were like another big sibling to them. He would still play the Minecraft world you all shared and visit your house, adding decorations to it as he progresses to include you in a way.

The kid hated whenever someone misinterpreted his brother's actions, often passionately correcting before getting emotional over the thought of what he was doing. He's preserving them, but why did he have to do so already? They were so young.

Idia was on the last few games he needed to upload. He looked over at one of the first games you introduced him to, an emulation of Mario Kart Wii.

“Yeah it’s pretty old but it’s pretty nostalgic to me. I used to play it with my family all the time! It’s one of my favorites! I managed to move all my ghost data onto here too! Still, hold the record!” You beamed proudly as you showed the two brothers. “Ah, you appreciate oldies too huh?” Yuu nods. “If only I downloaded more before I came here. I think you would have loved some of the classic games we had.”

Idia loaded up the game with you, hooking up your device to the big screen in his room so you could all play. Ortho grabbed his favorite controller, and you all chose your characters to race as. Sure, you had the home-field advantage, but he’s played tons of racing games before! He has this in the bag.

The pair never stood a chance. With every map, you seemed to know a perfect shortcut, a perfect glitch, a perfect setup to always come out in first place. Even when the two said you had to play fair and you complied, you still easily beat them both while humming the music under your breath. Yet despite the frustration, it was still fun, especially since you included Ortho in everything as well.

Idia loaded up the game again, for old time's sake. He didn’t put much thought into the map or character he chose, he was too busy imagining that day you all were together, laughing and exchanging the things you loved. Rainbow Road was loaded up, the hardest track in the game and your favorite one, he remembered how much you laughed at his misery when he played on it. A few extra carts appear in the track that weren't the bots he was playing against, they were translucent much like ghosts, and had names over each one.

One of them he recognized as yours. As he began, he saw the ghost carts glided across the road. It was then he realized that these were the previous top three records that were saved. Idia wasn’t thinking, as his competitive streak overtook him. In the very first round, he beat the one in third place, putting in his name ‘Gloomurai’. He played a few more times, each time optimizing his route and techniques to get faster with each run. He’d even watch your racer’s techniques so he could copy.

After what felt like hours, he finally beat your character's time, and mentally celebrated when the option to put in his name popped up. The small smile on his face suddenly faded for a moment as he thought back to what you said. “I used to play with my family all the time!” You said. “It’s one of my favorites!”

Idia’s hands shook. When you showed him this game, it was obvious you adored it. He even caught you playing it by yourself a lot. Those other names, were they your family? Your friends? The realization hit him. This wasn’t your favorite game just because of nostalgia, it was because you still play with your family.

All those other ghosts he beat, they drove the exact same route, the exact same way your loved ones did and he overwrote them, and now, he overwrote you on your favorite route. Not only did he get rid of you, but he got rid of the only trace you had of your old life. Panicking, Idia dove into the files of the game, looking through everything he could see if there was any way he could save your data, frantically scanning each line of code. He knew the answer in his head though, the minute that box popped up, it was deleted instantly.

Idia suddenly stopped, clenching his fists. He didn’t care that your ghost was probably on other tracks. That one was your favorite one. He got rid of you. He got rid of you on your favorite game. The sadness finally caught up to him, he was too exhausted to keep coding at this point.

“Idia?�� Ortho called into his shared room with his brother. “Idia? Your heart rate is acting up on my scanner—“ Ortho creaked open the door to see his brother with his head in his hands, violently sobbing. “They’re gone.” He mutters. “They’re gone.” Ortho shut the door behind him, floating over to where his brother was, and pulls him down to hug him. “It's okay,” the boy soothes. “They still live in you.”

[silvershiningtarot]

🫶🏾🤲🏾🙏🏾💋👅PAC18+ What’s The Dynamic Between You & Your FS Getting To Know Each Other🎈🎉 (Channeled Message)

*Take a moment to breathe in and out. This is about how you and your FS getting to know each other. Dynamics of it all. Five minutes to look at it. This is a general reading. Take what resonates and let the rest fall off. I'm sorry if you keep getting channeled messages. Y'all husbands wanna talk to you.

Pile 1: It seems like when you and your partner get to know each other, it will be a big ass transformation. I mean a big one. A lot of people will start falling off. Friends, family, and co-workers. That goes for them as well. Because they'll start to wake up and see the bullshit about the people in their life. It is like you are their clarity. You awakened them. They are the clarity for you. They are very hardworking. It can turn toxic like they can become workaholics in their work. They'll buy you gifts. Some of your husbands/wives have money. I heard the CEO of their company, they'll help you with your career. You are their wish fulfillment and vice versa. I can you and them might go through some issues while you getting to know them. You have the 5 Of Wands. It seems like if they going through a breakdown you and they will find a solution to fix the issues. You will have some flashbacks about your past. Maybe this manipulative female hurt you badly or them. Cause it seems like your partner will be going through some tough shit. A few of you might be dealing with some tough memories. This older woman had fuck with your partner's mind and yours as well. You both probably went through similar situations. That's why you two are on the right path together. You had a bad breakup with your ex-girlfriend/ boyfriend. I don't want to delve deep into this but maybe some of you, your ex, or their ex bullied them. They were depressed for a while and felt very insecure about themselves and vice versa. So you start working out. Being flexible, and getting back into good health with yourself and vice versa. It just seems you two had gone through a lot in the past. Now you two will face it together. Whatever you heal on your own now it is time you two heal it together. If that makes sense. They will help you with your career I can see that. I mean they'll be your supportive partner to you. I heard them say “I'll pay for this and pay for that”. So basically they will pay for everything with your career. They won't throw it in your face. Not at all. They love helping people be independent. This is a partnership between you and them. I felt an instant connection between you and them. You are on the right path with them and vice versa. Honestly, I don't see any issues like that in the beginning with them. Woah, tying the knot oh my god. It looks like they want to marry you. Or they are seeing a future with you. They think that you are their destiny after all the transformation you both have gone through. No wonder they wanna propose to you. Haha 😂💎. I heard them say “You're my special diamond.” Aww 🙀☺️☺️. You are their special diamond. It seems like this spouse has some words to say to you. If you wanna hear it. Before I tell you their message it seems like they would send you sexy nudes, and other pictures just to be teasing you and vice versa. I think that you two like teasing each other. They will be falling for you deeply. They like flirting with you and you too. Here’s their message to you.

😱“When I first saw you, I thought you were rude. Sorry for saying that. But then in my mind, I was like I'll give this chance. Because I don't do relationships like that you feel me. I've been hurt in the past by plenty of other females/males to ever crossed me again. I won't be fucked over no more. I know I sound paranoid as hell. But I don't know when I'm next to you my walls go down. You are my lucky star. I shouldn't be having these feelings for you. Because what if I end up sabotaging this connection with you and then you leave me? Ugh, I couldn't take that kind of heartbreak. Don't get me wrong I had my ideas of you. Don't act like you didn't either about me. So I wanted to tell you that I truly care about you. I can't stop thinking about you, I love talking to you. You are funny and very easy to talk to. You are smart and an amazing person to be around with. I love your energy and you are so incredible. Yes, I shouldn't compare you to my past exes and I'm sorry for that but wow, you have been patient with me. I love the magic we have together and I’ll never want to lose that for sure. So I know we have known each other for a while. Will you be my girl? My intuition told me I should trust my instincts. So I am a man/woman about my shit. So will you?”

Woah, this is your husband! I’m gagging yes! Lol 😂 this is the second time marriage came out for the both of you. I think a lot of you or some of you will go straight into just marrying them. After getting to know them, you’ll just marry them. I heard when you two get to know each other it’s like you two already dating in y'all mind. This is your divine masculine. Of course, you two will be having sex, I mean passionate fucking sex. Hahaha, I heard tearing that pussy up. Wooo 🥳 that’s awesome 👏🏾. But They are leaders, they don’t like to look back at the past. Yes, sometimes the memories will come up with both of you. They’ll never go back to their past mistakes. They do have a big ego. I think you too but I sense more like they are confident. This FS is confident of what they want. They don’t play any fucking games. The second they got feels for you, they will tell you. In the beginning, you will have a crush on them and vice versa. So it feels like a lust whirlwind romance and that's why you two will be quickly getting married. You'll love spending time with them and you won't stop thinking about them either. Again you two will be boyfriend and girlfriend. Even after hanging out for a couple of months or weeks instantly, you two will be dating. Public kissing. I think that you will think that you are pregnant but I feel that you'll be excited about it. They can't sleep without and you can't sleep without them. They are possessive over you. Sometimes when you are not home, they'll be moving around in bed trying to sleep but they can't. Whenever you are next to them, They feel better. I think either you or them might be stuck in drama or I heard we're stuck in drama. I believed co-dependent can get toxic sometimes. Sometimes they might be in a dark headspace and need to release. I do believe that they will be clingy to you. Or you might be like that with them. In my opinion, I feel like this person will make you feel safe that you both will be co-dependent on each other. It can get toxic. You two are yin and yang! Split soul. This is your other half and vice versa. You guys incarnated down here in the 3D world to be together. You guys need each other. You're so stunning to them. I mean fucking gorgeous in their eyes and vice versa. You meant to have new beginnings with them. Plenty of opportunities will come your way. Sacred Support! Wow, you two are divinely guided and divinely secured. This is an unbreakable bond between you two. It is meant to be. I think that once you two do that then you'll start to trust it. Since your FS is paranoid as hell, they started to believe it. 🙏🏾✨🙏🏾✨🙏🏾. You would start loving yourself, and vice versa yes they are confident about what they want but they have their self-esteem issues. You love spending a lot of quality time with them. Maybe that's your or their love language is quality time. I heard “They don't like their time being wasted.” I don't blame them. I honestly agree with them. Seriously.

Pile 2: Since you have the 3 Of swords makes me feel that you two will be helping each other with some type of heartbreak. I can see some type of possessiveness. I feel like they will be clingy to you and vice versa. Yeah, you'll help them with all the disappointments that happened in both of y'all lives. I can see that both of you are close. They're masculine I sense that they'll be your first everything. Like your first kiss, first-time sex, and first date. I know that some of you did have those experiences then you going to have sex with the right person you can trust. You two will be honest with each other. I can see that you'll be comfortable with them and vice versa. I think that you'll argue with them heavily. I think that because they might be too clingy and possessive. I sense that like if you are at work and if you are working with some dude or a girl they'll be jealous. It will become toxic for a minute and then you two will break up and make up. It was like an off-and-on thing between you two. But I think that you or they will make a promise to each other, I heard them say “ I'll come back to you.” A lot of y'all Future Spouses are very masculine. But you guys will break up a lot they can't sleep without you and vice versa. It will become toxic they will be too attached to you. So there has to be a balance. 🙀. So of course they'll be petty and you will be too. I sense that both of you will be childish. That's why you two will make up and break up. I think that when you two see each other it’s like sex! Passionate steamy sex. HA! I told you heavy passionate sex! You guys will still have sex even after getting to know each other. Damn! So creamy! Woah, intense you two have. I can see the passion. Even when you two get some space from each other you'll be having sex and talking to each other. Geez! Woah, ethereal love! Both of you are head over heels for each other. Yes, they are street-smart but they are childish. I was right, again you two are fucking childish. It's like once you two start growing tf up if you want to. You two will have a beautiful connection. Don't get me wrong it seems that they are very intelligent. They are probably the CEO of their company. Tying The Knot 🪢🪢 Wow you two would want to get married and I think that you two will have sex with them while you getting to know them. I won't say like instantly but maybe a couple of dates you go on with them and then bam 💥 your and their clothes is on the floor. I can hear their message to you.

“ For once in a lifetime I never thought I met someone like you before. I'm sorry for being clingy, and possessive but I can't help it. I like being next to you. You are so special to me. I am to you too. Please don't ignore me. I know how I make you feel. When you look at me what do you feel? Do I get you horny? I know that I do. We have this great chemistry together. I fucking like the fact you can booty call me and I still can come over and lay it down on you. Kiss me 😘. That kitty is still on fire. I know I was a jerk to you and I missed things at work and I'm sorry 💔I can't see you with no one else but me and only me. I know I was being petty and childish and overly protective but what the fuck do you want me to do. Like I am a fucking hot head. You see what you make me do. I know I'm not blaming you for my action. It's just, I need you here with me. Please don't give up on me. Not just yet💔. I mean if there is someone else out there for you then I won't hold you back. Hahaha!! What am I saying? Of course, I'll snatch your little ass back into my arms real quick. I don't give up period. I know that's so crazy I tried gaslighting you back to me and yeah that deserves a slap across my face. How about this? Why don't you come over tonight so we can discuss where we stand? But I just wanna take care of you always and forever.”

It seems that you or they will be battling some addictions. I can see that. You two will get through it together. They are your devil in a good way. They are very handsome looking, masculine, and well charming. They do tend to be a bit cocky. I see that in the beginning, you two will try again on the second date you'll have your lazy days with them, and vice versa. They have a body of a god. Wow, I think neither of you won't be seeing sides of the story of the other if that makes sense because I think that because you two are childish sometimes you two will be blaming each other. In my opinion, I feel that when you two don't see eye to eye on things maybe take a step back from each other and relax. That's what I think you should do. Ahh, I see they'll be addicted to you, and I feel that you'll be the same with them. They'll be very possessive over that pussy. Wow, intense I see. Sex to you two will be healing. I mean very healing for y'all. It won't solve all of the problems but I think that sex is a very important part of your dynamic with them. You guys share a bonded connection. You can manifest this connection with them instantly. It is very powerful. I sense that you two are each other’s mentors. That's the feeling I got from that. Woah, that’s so funny! Didn't it say, First Kiss? So basically of you, I believe that this is your first everything with this person. That's beautiful to me. A few of you, I sense that this is your High Vibe Soulmate. I can't explain how much important this connection is. If you ever watched Harry Potter when the Phoneix Bird burst into ashes and rise back up again. That's exactly how this dynamic is. No matter how times you two fall you always get back up. No matter what. I send all my love and positive energy to this connection. Good luck to y'all. Muah 💋💋💋. Yes, I do feel that your FS is a celebrity but let me explain by celebrity. I think that they are upcoming celebrities like they are probably an independent artist or I sense like an artist for some of your FS. But a few of you hmmm. They are probably well-known celebrity but I heard they flop a few times. I feel that you two will come across the dark portal that surrounded y'all connections. A lot of inferences I'm seeing. A lot of outsiders will be in your ear. Awe they'll draw you a bath. You'll be taking a bubble bath together, just enjoying each other. I feel like either you or they fear being alone. I sense that more part from their side. Why do I sense this spouse is older than you? Some of you I sense younger than you too. Not like baby young but middle age ’20s or late 20s.

Pile 3: I sense that you two will feel at home with each other. With the 4Of wands, I sense that you two will bring a lot of stability, security, and a lot of nurturing. A lot of self-care with both of you. They'll start being more confident and vice versa. It seems that you two will create something together. Maybe painting or music. If some of you do music then you'll be doing music with them without a doubt in my mind that you will. In my opinion, you two will start dating quickly for some of you. It's like you'll have a fast-paced love with them. But I feel like with them, they know what they want and there's no choice that they'll ask you out. I see the Empress' card, Wow, can you start paying more attention to yourself If that makes sense? There's a lack of focus with you two. Probably with you, I’m sensing that. That's why they'll help you get back on track. Do not strain away from your path. I know that they'll be frustrated sometimes about it not with you but In my opinion, I feel that they will sometimes. I can see you saying “I'm sorry”. They don't blame you but just know that they'll stand by your side no matter what. I do sense of a bit jealousy from them. I don't think that they'll be unfair to you or envy but I get a possessive vibe from them. Maybe simping for you. Woah, I believe that they'll be in love with you. I told you that if they know what they want then they'll be don't mind looking like the fool for you. Ahh, I'm gagging right now! Marriage, no wonder with the 4 of wands. You two see a future with each other. For some, this is like fast-paced love 💋they were very instantly connected to you. You'll be doing a lot of shadow work with them, crying, and rebirth a lot with them. I can see them holding you two tightly while you scream and cry your eyes out. In their mind, they say “I'm your husband.” I can hear their little message coming to you.

“ My little sweet tooth, the moment I saw you I wanted to just protect you always. You keep me standing all the time. I love the moments we share. Taking selfies and I admire you so much. I just want to protect you from everything. I'll still give you your independence. But let me stand beside you no matter what. You can call on me I’ll be right there. You are my new beginning and I am yours. I feel so complete with you, I can do anything when I'm next to you. When I'm with you I feel limitless. I never thought I could love again because I’d drown myself in work left to right. I'm not saying you were my distraction I'm saying that you help me concentrate better. I can be in two places at once without feeling drained. My sweet darling I care about you so much. I can't wait for the world to see how much we can create together as a family. That's right you are my family.”

You'll be having sex with them a lot, it seems that you going to have multiple orgasms with them. Wow, very intense. They are street smart and probably used to be a dealer or they know their street very well. If that makes sense. Unexpected sex haha 😂 it's going to happen unexpectedly as you can be chilling with them the next minute and then your clothes are on the floor. I think that for some of you, it might happen when you smoke with them and then after that, you wake up to happen. It has been written in the stars for you and them. This is destiny, you guys are meant to incarnate down in the 3D world to handle each other mission and your own. There are a lot of debts that are ending between you and them. I can see that with families, friends, and breaking this generational cycle. Everything you had learned from your home life, school, and life itself. You might help them with some financial issues or vice versa. Somebody probably stole from them or owed people money. That shit fucking sucks ass. You two will end a lot of family karma. You two will break off the family ties. Some of you won't even talk to family after this. Wow, I'm sorry 💔💔. But I think that you'll be free from family after everything they put you through they like fuck it. I heard them say “We got each other”. Don't matter if they got kids or not or whatever the situation is I believe that they'll take their kids and it'll just be you and them and their kids make y'all own family together.

Pile 4️⃣: It seems that you two will be going through a lot of heartbreaks or dealing with some heartbreaks. Because this FS is a celebrity for sure. It's a lot of self-doubts, but you'll be avoided a lot of confrontation, especially with them. I don't think that they like confrontation. FIVE OF WANDS, THREE OF SWORDS, and ACE OF WANDS. This makes me feel you two will come to terms with that no more running away from your problems and theirs as well. Even if you two have your disagreements you shouldn't avoid them period in my opinion. It seems like with this FS they like to swerve their ass to different topics I mean the second they feel they are in a hot seat or you, they'll switch the topic quickly. I heard that they'll feel like you are attacking them and vice versa. You two I feel like you guys are highly defensive. You'll try to defend your argument even if you are wrong you still defend it even with them as well. At the bottom of the deck, you got the KING OF SWORDS AND DEATH. So a lot of shadow work needs to be done with you two. By yourself of course and then with them too. If you two decide to keep avoiding situations like this, imagine the bigger situations. But I think that one of you or them will start to realize and be like fuck it let’s talk about it. You guys have to compromise and start to take things slow. If they are mad at you let them breathe for a minute and vice versa. You guys will talk about it after. Okay, there are the issues. I think that they are a player, yes they are part of the music industry and I believe that some of you might be part of it or meet them. But they might be taken or I sense that you might be coming in unavailable and they'll sneak their ass and come snatch you. But that's up to you if you decide to take that road with them. Spiritual hater, I don't sense either from their side or yours that they are a spiritual hater. There is a lot of jealousy, especially about what type of industry you guys are in. So much dark magic involved in the music industry. That's why I feel like if some of you are going into the with them know the business that you are in. In my opinion. Reliving the past I think that a lot of old habits that you guys used to do will sneak their way in. You have to catch those patterns. Self-control and self-awareness are very important for both of you. Trust in the process! I think that your guides would want you to have faith in them. Again if they are taken or you are they'll be patient and vice versa. That's why I feel there isn't any cheating going on I don't feel that way. This will happen in divine timing with you both. You guys are soulmates it's just a lot of baggage you two are carrying from your past, trauma, and memories. I think that they have a message for you. But you both will retreat a lot together I think that some of you will start as friends first or at least in my opinion just acquaintances.

“Hey, you! I was wondering if I can get a moment of your time, please. I just wanted to say that for the past few months, I've been getting to know you and I have been better. The way you make me feel it's breathtaking. I love it though. Even though you are with someone else at the moment no worries my chance will come. I can feel it. I like it when you kiss me on my forehead and tell me everything is going to be okay😍. I like making you blush. I know I am a celebrity and I know what comes with that. Fans, fame, etc. But don't even trip about that nothing in this world compares to you. My emotions are high right now. The way how I feel can't even match up with the way how others do to me. If that makes sense. You're like my best friend I know sounds a bit strange but I get it though. All of my thoughts about you are running through me right now. I wanna kiss you, hug you, and rip your clothes off. I'm trying to control myself so let me breathe for a second. I know I avoid a lot of problems with us but baby, trust in us okay? Don't give up on me not yet. I believe in us and I know you do too. Don't worry our chance will come. Once it does you best believe I’ll break down that fucking door to come and get you. I never thought after my ex's situation I never thought I can fall in love again or feel this way about another woman again. You did that for me. I am slowly working on myself by doing a lot of self-healing with myself 🙀. I realize a lot of issues start from home the way how I grew up and everything. I'm sorry for putting this on you. I hope you can forgive me, and can you? There are so many dark forces that are trying to separate us and including myself, because I am afraid of getting hurt that's why I run away. I love spending time with you, I love you for giving me your time and energy to me💜💜🩵. That right there makes me feel very special. I appreciated it😍. I never felt appreciated in a very long time. I want to feel needed and loved. So I am sorry for pushing you away like that🪢🎈. Let's not push each other away anymore whatever we have to face we’ll face it together as partners. You are my yang and I'm your yin. Let's put our pieces together and fix the puzzle. Shall we? Thank you for sharing your time with me💫💫🌸. I dedicated a song to you, please listen to it for me. Listen to my message.” 💋💋

Wow, their message to you seems so respectful and appreciative. They know what type of business they are in and they went through a lot of transformations. You two will activate each other psychic abilities and awaken each other's gifts. You'll start to recognize your patterns and vice versa. This manipulative female I don't know who that can be but she's going to get cut off for sure. I think that you going to get pregnant but you'll keep it private. Only you and they know about it. A lot of flashbacks and memories will happen. You two will be shedding a lot together. This connection and dynamic is a huge transformation for both of you. I think that you'll be intimidated by them because they have been through a lot, especially in the music industry they are in. Oh boy, they went through hell. The friends, family, and business just fuck this person over heavily. I think they sometimes have suicidal thoughts. They just wanna leave this earth. They feel alone. I heard they still do. That's why I feel like they dedicated this song to you. Even I feel drawn to this pile as well. Ohh I see the issue ⚠️⚠️this ex can be dangerous or might be dangerous. I don't sense harming you but stop your connection with them like delaying it. If that makes sense. I think they are going to decide to say fuck her or him because they are going go stand up to this ex. I don't know if this ex might return but whatever you or they decide to do that's up to y'all. You guys are each other new beginnings, a new fresh start. There's a lot of jealousy I sense that on your side you might be jealous of this ex! I heard no need to be. They have their eyes on you and only you. But they might be beefing with their ex probably even right now or they are trying to ignore them. You take their breath away. They can’t sleep without it and vice versa. You both will be heavily attracted to each other. Everlasting love! Awww I'm not going to say this is forever because I don't know if that is between you and them to make it last forever. They are going to say I love you first. Sexy whisper mmmm 😘☺️😘☺️😘. They seem very private but show off as well. I'm getting Virgo/Sag and Capricorn vibes from them. A little bit of Leo too because they crave your attention. I think at times they'll be jealous too. Knowing what type of FS oh yeah they'll be jealous. But they have your back and you got theirs. This pile was quite tough but fucking worth it. Even if you are taken or they are you two will at least respect each other relationship and be patient with each other and when the opportunity is open you'll take it and so will they.