#i just noticed the detached sleeves

[ode2rin]

It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.

Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.

Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.

Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.

Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.

Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends. 

Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned. 

“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.

Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.

A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”

I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more. 

“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”

And there it goes. 

Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.

“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”

For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.

Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.

You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.

“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”

Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”

I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.

“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.

Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.

Because it will really be a pain, indeed.

note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)

[frostbitebakery]

LOUD.

part one two three four five

Obi watches over him like a shadow the first few weeks he’s in the Temple.

Anakin will wake from a memory-nightmare and his protector will sit on the windowsill, bathed in the ever changing lights.

His warm hand will stroke over Anakin’s hair, soothing and more comforting than words could ever be.

He will offer Anakin to sit with him, watching Coruscant through the transparisteel. And Anakin will inevitably end up cuddled up to Obi’s front, falling asleep with Obi’s heartbeat under his ear, the breath in his lungs.

.

The identities of the Shadows are almost considered inviolable. Due to the nature of their chosen path, secrecy is a tenet they adhere to strictly.

The Council knows who they are, and maybe there are one or two Council members who are uncomfortable with how close to the Dark Shadows operate. But as a whole the necessity is understood.

The Jedi stand and fight for the Light, the balance, for bringing peace and help to those who need it. A calling like that inevitably brings enemies and the need to even the playing field.

“Beacon of Light,” Obi-Wan repeats, hands moving in disbelief.

And code names. It was only a matter of time before he got his codename.

“Fitting, we think it is,” Grandmaster Yoda says, amusement twinkling in his eyes and frog tea.

“Of course, Grandgrandmaster Yoda,” Obi-Wan signs, slipping in the extra grand flawlessly, which results in the sign turning grand to ancient. If Yoda gets cheeky with him, he can very well retribute.

Master Tholme coughs a laugh into the sleeve of his robe.

“Congratulations, Master Kenobi,” Master Windu says warmly and Obi-Wan ducks his head, loses the fight against the blush spreading across his nose. “Master Tholme has prepared a briefing package for you where you can access all relevant information. Like the code name for the Temple here on Coruscant.”

Master Tholme inclines his head in agreement, solemn twist to his lips Obi-Wan knows not to trust. “Old Folks’ Home.”

Obi-Wan wishes he wore the mask so he can wheeze in peace.

.

Jedi move different from the people Anakin has seen so far in his life. They flow, they’re carried by a breeze. Gravity doesn’t have a hold on them unless it suits them. They move like they’re one with nature, detached from sentient-made life and creations.

And then there are a few, like Obi, who move with the undercurrent, with the wind just above the ground. Who vanish with the shadows just to reappear around a corner.

They’re not stalking the enormous hallways or sneaking around like bandits.

Anakin doesn’t think they’re doing it consciously, reflecting attention away from themselves as if they aren’t even there.

Obi’s friend Quin moves like that, too, when he forgets himself, somehow managing to disappear while walking in the middle of the floor.

Quin is a strange one.

But Obi-Wan…

Anakin bites his lips to keep from giggling, hands gripping the banister tightly where he’s peeking. He doesn’t think they’ve noticed him yet.

The training salle they’re practicing in is huge, obstacles dotting the ground for them to leap over or off, hide and take the other off-guard.

It seems impossible, the way they fight and lure each other into traps. Obi is especially good at that. He’s directing Quin into exhaustion he can’t defend himself in anymore, and it’s amazing to watch.

Nothing and no one can beat Obi-Wan. He’s too clever for that.

“I will never stop calling you that, Beacon of Light,” Quin laughs when he jumps out of a roll and onto his feet.

Obi-Wan signs something, his back to Anakin which is aggravating.

He’d change position but both Jedi move around too much.

Quin shakes his head. “Shut up, you know it suits you.” He takes the lightsaber off his belt. “I bet you blushed like a meloroon in season.”

Obi changes into a blue glowing blur in answer.

.

Obi-Wan wants to know where he went wrong. What he did to— He thought the connection between him and Cody—

His vision is swimming, oxygen mask placed over his nose and mouth pumping more than air into his system.

His fingers weakly tap the message on the receiver of the comm device he broke off Cody’s suit during the fight. “Beacon. Light. Force.” Hope and the Force sing to him, even as his doing is detected.

Cody roughly rolls him onto his side, takes the device out of his hand where he had hidden it behind his back.

“The Emperor wants you alive, traitor.”

He’s removed his helmet. The one Obi-Wan had destroyed while it was still on Cody’s head. Just… Cody’s whole demeanor flipped to strange and other. He hadn’t made for his blaster during the fight. Shooting inside a rescue shuttle in the void of space at least still seemed like a bad idea even with Cody’s suit keeping him alive in a scenario like that.

But Obi-Wan couldn’t take that chance. So he’d smashed Cody’s face against a doorframe, breaking the visor and any choice Cody could make in killing Obi-Wan by sudden oxygen depletion.

Of course the fight took care to still break his lungs open, making him gasp for air even before Cody held him down and ripped the mask off.

Lying on his side is easier but the room has decided it is done with him and goes dark.

[ageingfangirl2]

Hello👋😊 I would like to know if it was possible to do a story in which Buggy(still a "prisoner" of the Straw Hats ) started to feel strange(in a good way of course) with Y/N. After a day, the Reader, who had the task of repairing any damage of the ship, but it was a very hot day and Y/N, in order to stay cooler while working, decided to take off her top, leaving just the bikini top and the shorts. But without realizing that she was being watched by a head👀🤭Buggy began to observe the drops of sweat running down to her back, chest and forehead, leaving him with a strange feeling about Y/N👀🤭❤️‍🔥

Sorry if the recommendation is too long😅😅

I Finally See You! Buggy (OPLA) *REQUEST* - Female Reader

Part 2

BUGGY

This was something I'd never live down, being held hostage, well my head being held hostage by a bunch of young adult pirates calling themselves The Straw Hat Pirates. When I first met them there were only three of them but now that number had doubled and I didn't like being outnumbered. They took it in turns looking after my head, but I hardly got taken out of that stinky bag they kept me in. Once I got my body back I'd bounce, and the next time they crossed me I would come out on top.

The only member of this stupid crew I could stand was y/n. I wasn't sure what they did, but they were quiet and kept to themselves making them an easy target. They had some past trauma and hardly any real-world experience so I could be a flirt and perverted and they took it on the chin. Until Zoro nearly threw me into the sea and told me to watch my tongue or lose it. y/n made an innocent remark asking if my tongue could also detach, and after a wink and a 'shall we find out together kitten' comment Zoro sent my head flying across the deck.

Y/N

It was a hot day and you'd told Luffy you'd fix the damage done by Garp, but working under the hot sun was intense. You were in a pair of shorts and a loose blouse now drenched in sweat which clung to your body. Thinking you are alone you take off the blouse revealing the skimpy blue bikini stop Nami had convinced you to buy and the matching bottoms under your shorts. Little did you know someone was watching you.

BUGGY

The dumb swordsman was sleeping again, this time finding himself shade while leaving me exposed in the sweltering sun. I was about to unload a range of colourful insults when the sound of hammering caught my attention. I hop a little on my barrel and gulp, my eyes fixated on y/n of all people. They were inches away from me bent over fixing the side of the ship unaware of my presence.

I assumed y/n was a prude only having seen them in trousers and long sleeves, but I licked my dry lips and raised my eyebrows seeing them in shorts that left little to the imagination and long legs that would be perfectly wrapped around my waist as they rode me.

I shake my head, what was I thinking? y/n was fun to mess with and nothing more.

Next thing I know y/n is taking off the blouse, and if I was attached to my body I might have just got a hard-on. Why did y/n choose to hide such a magnificent body? The blue bikini top is the same shade as my hair, and I vaguely remember y/n saying their favourite colour was blue. As y/n picks up a glass of water I allow my eyes to wander, like a moth to a flame. Noticing how small their hands were as they reached up to wipe sweat from their brow, but could probably easily wrap around my dick, and how when they arched their back their chest jutted out and little droplets of sweat run down them. Fuck, they would look good arching beneath me.

I curse and y/n gasps loudly hearing me, 'Oh my god--'

I smirk, 'Not god kitten, but I can be whoever you want me to be.'

I'm surprised they don't immediately cover up, instead leaning down to my height giving me a very nice view of their chest, 'Did Zoro leave you in the sun?'

I pout, playing the sympathy card, y/n was too nice and I loved attention, 'wouldn't even give me any water, I'm parched kitten.'

y/n liked cats so my nickname was appropriate, even if they didn't understand the real meaning behind it.

'You can share my glass Buggy, I'll scold Zoro later,' y/n huffs, clearly annoyed at the swordsman as they bring the water to my lips and I start drinking, 'I'll give them a right tongue lashing...I think I overheard Sanji say that once.'

I spit out the water and it lands on y/n's chest, soaking into the material, 'you're one of a kind y/n. if you need any advice I'm sure I could offer some lip service. Maybe when the others are sleeping.'

y/n blushes and I'm not quite sure if they understand me, 'I think we've both had too much sun Buggy, let's get us both inside and you can stay with me for the rest of the day.'

Before I can protest y/n picks me up, and for a split second I'm pressed between their breasts before they turn my head. y/n was going to be the death of me, and I wasn't going to look at them the same way ever again.

[minki-moo]

♡‧₊˚ 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙚 ♡‧₊˚

pairing ♡ bang chan x f!reader rating ♡ e for explicit tags ♡ older brother's best friend!chan, university au, fluff, very slight angst (reader is just overwhelmed/kinda insecure), pet names (chan calls reader princess, good girl), oral (f.receiving), aftercare w/c ♡ 2.6k

a/n ♡ hai!! this is my first little fic (on here). its based off a lil convo i had with a chan c.ai bot and i had to write something about it >.<

"hey, what's wrong?"

chan looks at you, standing in front of his dorm door at an ungodly hour. you look like a mess; as expected from someone who ran half way across campus.

you look up at chan, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"i'm-i dont know. i just need to be with someone right now". you take a shaky breath. "i dont wanna be alone."

chans's eyes slightly widen when he sees the tears in your eyes. he gently grabs you by your waist and pulls you inside. "hey hey, listen. it's ok". he moves you to his living room and guides you to his couch, sitting you down. "i'll bring you something to drink and then we can talk about it ok?".

you nod weakly, watching as chan moves to the kitchen. the sight reminds you of your childhood, when your older brother would invite chan over to hang out. chan would often make snacks for them (you included since your brother always had the task of babysitting you), and this scene in front of you was no different.

well, except for the fact that you were always happy back then, cheerful even. but ever since starting university, you've become overwhelmed; the transition and being so so far from home. thank god you were able to get into the same university as chan, or else you would have felt completely alone.

you're shaken out of your thoughts when you feel the couch dip, chan sitting next you. he puts a cup of tea down on the table in front of him and drapes a blanket around your shoulders.

"so bub", chan says, using his childhood nickname for you, "do you wanna talk about it?"

you take a deep breath and start talking about your worries and insecurities from your thoughts earlier. the one thing you love about chan is the way he just listens. he never butts in and just sits there, giving you his attention with the occasional head nod and hum of understanding.

"i just-i'm so tired chan. i'm tired of putting up this 'strong girl' persona. i'm tired of having that expectation tied to me. for once, i want to let go. i want to be taken care of without having to worry about anything else."

chan looks at you with his puppy dog eyes. he moves closer to you and puts his arms around you, holding you close to his warm body. you feel the tears from earlier threaten to spill, but you keep them in, refusing to cry in front of chan.

"bub", he says, his voice vibrating through his body, "you know you can always come to me right? i would never judge you, and i for sure would never leave you alone." he runs his hands through your hair as he gently rocks you back and forth.

at this point, your efforts to hold back your tears fail as the droplets fall, dampening chan's shirt as small sobs leave your mouth.

chan holds you tighter, doing his best to comfort you. "hey, it's ok princess", you notice the change in nickname but choose to brush it off.

after what felt like hours you detach yourself from chan, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. "i-i think i'm a bit better now." you look up a chan with a weak smile on your face. "thank you, channie".

he blushes slightly at the nickname, as you haven't called him that in years. "of course. say, do you want to stay over for the night? i wouldn't want you to go back to your dorm this late."

truthfully, you would hate to stay amd inconvenience chan anymore than you already have, and staying over would make things harder on him.

chan sees the look of hesitation on you face and gives you a stern look.

"hey, i know that look on your face!"

you look at him, startled and blushing slightly. "what look??"

he grins at you, an amused look ghosting his face.

"the look that says 'oh i'm bothering him i should just go home'". chan chuckles as your eyes widen at his answer.

chan sighs and takes your hands in his "bub, i can promise that you are not bothering me. not at all. i barely get to see you on campus, and to be honest-" he looks away slightly, "i'm more than happy to spend some more time with you. i've missed seeing you."

you stare at chan, his face becoming redder by the second. you've always found chan cute (and very, very handsome of course), but you've never thought that he might have similar feelings for you; you always thought he saw you as just a little sister.

chan clears his throat "anyways, let's get you to bed." he gets up off the couch, and you start to follow, until chan pushes back down.

"chan what the-"

he cuts you off when he suddenly picks you up bridal style, forcing a yelp out of you.

chan smiles at you. "i refuse to let you do anything while you stay with me. you deserve a break, and i'll be giving you the treatment you deserve." he makes his way towards his bedroom while you lay your head in his chest, suppressing the feelings that have resurfaced so suddenly.

chan places you on his bed. then starts looking through his closet. "here." he tosses a sweater towards you "change into this. you can take the bed, i still have some work to finish." he walks up to you and brushes back your hair, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead "goodnight princess." he doesn't give you time to answer as he leaves the room and shuts the door.

you sit there, stunned and in utter shock. chan, channie, just kissed you, and you don't think you can suppress these feelings anymore.

suddenly wide awake, you change into his sweater and get under the covers, chan's scent surrounding you, making you dizzy and dampening your panties just a little bit. although his scent is also comforting, you can't seem to calm down, the kiss still running through your mind.

after what felt like forever, you get up and look at the time. 2:03 am. you know chan would still be wide awake, the workaholic he is. you slip out of bed and walk back into the living room.

chan is sitting on the couch, glasses on and looking intently at his laptop screen. hearing your footsteps, he looks up, smiling but also looking slightly concerned.

"can't sleep?" he says as you move closer to the couch, taking the spot next to him

"no", you say, pulling your knees to your chest and pulling the hood of chan's sweater over your head.

he nods, his focus returning to his laptop while you both sit in a comfortable silence.

after a few minutes, you turn to him, unable to keep all the questions in your head any longer.

"chan?"

he looks over, looking at you from over his glasses.

"yes?"

you hesitate, before looking him dead in the eyes and asking him, "why did you kiss me earlier?"

he looks at you, a smile slowly growing on his face as he puts his laptop down, moving so his whole body is facing you.

"why are you asking?" he leans in closer. "did you not like it, princess?"

you look at him, eyes wide and face growing hot. "n-no, i mean-you know what im talking about! you've never done that before so why now?"

chan's smile grows at your reaction. clearly he's enjoying how flustered he can make you with a few words.

"well...i did it because i wanted to."

you look at him, shocked. "you wanted to?"

he nods, moving closer to you and taking you hands in his.

"yes, i did." he takes a deep breath. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that. to kiss you, and to let you let me take care of you. i...i've liked you for so long, but you only ever saw me as an older brother"

there are so many things running though you're head, but you chose to ignore them for the fact that chan likes you back.

he has this whole time.

you reach up, holding his face in you're hands. "i stopped seeing you as an older brother a long time ago." and you kiss him. a short, but oh so sweet kiss that makes everything seem right.

you pull away from the kiss, smiling at the shocked expression on chan's face. "what's wrong?", you say, getting payback from all the teasing from earlier. "you didn't like it, channie?"

he finally shakes off his initial shock, looking at you with a different expression: relief.

"no princess", he puts his arm around you're waist and pulls you onto his lap with one quick tug. "i loved it so much."

he kisses you again, and you can feel the smile on his face as you kiss him back, his movements almost desperate.

chan's hands move from your waist to your back, his hands slowly making their way under your sweater.

you break away from the kiss, panting "c-chan please..."

"please what, princess?"

blushing, you respond, "i-i want more."

chan smirks at you, suddenly grabbing your ass and grinding it down into his lap, causing you to moan in surprise.

"is this enough for you, princess?"

you look his in the eye, the desperation and neediness making your eyes water.

of course it's not enough.

you roll your hips into chan's now very prominent boner, earning a gasp from the man.

you hear chan whisper "h-hey, slow down princess."

"but chan, i need more. so much more, please", you plead, hoping he will do something about the ache in your core.

without warning, chan moves you onto your back and sits in between your legs. he leans over and gives you another kiss on the lips before moving down to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. his actions force tiny moans from you, which only encourage him to do more. as he moves further down, he slowly, almost painfully, lifts your sweater until your tits are uncovered.

without skipping a beat, chan takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while he rolls the other one in between his fingers.

"ch-channie", you gasp, your hands grabbing his hair. chan moans, welcoming the sting, which stimulates you even more.

he takes his mouth off your nipple with a pop, and gives it one final lick before moving down to your thighs. god, your thighs. chan always tried to be respectful when it came to you, but he couldn't deny that your thighs were a work of art, and he always wondered what it would be like to be in between them.

unable to hold himself back, chan rubs the wet spot on your panties, brushing his thumb over your swollen clit. "look at this princess, you're already so wet for me." he continues teasing you, making your whimpers grow louder, and the wet spot on your panties grow larger.

after what feels like forever, chan tugs on the waistband of your panties, lifting your hips with one hand and pulling them off with the other, stopping to take a look at your soaking wet pussy; knowing that he's the reason you're like this makes him even more turned on than he already is.

"now princess", he whispers, blowing a puff of air onto your heat, making you shiver. "let me take care of you, ok?" without warning, he licks a stripe over your pussy, making you gasp and squirm.

"o-oh channie, yes."

he smirks, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. overwhelmed, you buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your pleasure, but he holds down your hips as he ravishes your pussy, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste.

you're in pure bliss. chan's tongue bringing you overwhelming pleasure, the only things coming out of your mouth are broken moans and incoherent mumbling. "ch-channie please, 'm so close."

"you're close, princess?". his moves his attention to your hole, rubbing his index finger over your tight entrance. "can you cum on my fingers? can you do that for me, princess?" you give him a weak nod.

chan clicks his tongue and pushes his finger into you, only to pull it out seconds later, making you whine.

"fuck, channie please. please 'm so close." tears start to fall as you beg for chan to keep going.

"princess, i need you to use your words ok?" chan's change of tone makes you shiver. "can. you. cum. on. my. fingers?", he says while teasing your clit with his thumb.

you nod urgently "yes, yes i can. please just me-"

the feeling of chan's finger finally sliding into your wet heat makes you gasp. continuing his assault on your clit with his tongue forces louder moans out of you. its almost too much. chan adds another finger and you start to see stars.

"channie channie please please 'm so close please don't stop."

chan chuckles, the vibrations on your clit bringing you closer to the edge. he then takes his mouth off your pussy, coming up to kiss you.

"cum for me princess."

the taste of you on his mouth, his voice and the movement of his fingers are too much for you, as your body tenses up and your pussy squeezes chan's fingers. you know you shouldn't be too loud, but you can't help it. the pleasure he brought you was intense, and you couldn't hold back your moans. he continues to move his fingers inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

after you've calmed down, chan removes his fingers from inside you. he takes a tissue from the table beside the couch and cleaning you both, slipping your panties back on and pulling you into his lap again.

"that's my good girl. you did so well."

finally down from your high, you blush, hiding your face in his neck.

"that...was amazing", you say, you're voice no more than a whisper.

he hums, smiling slightly. "glad to hear that princess." he gently brings your face towards his, and plants small kisses all over you're face. "was that the type of treatment you were hoping for?"

rolling your eyes, you smile at him. "not entirely, but it was still amazing." you kiss him on the tip of his nose. "thank you channie."

"anything for you, my princess." the slight change in your new nickname makes your heart (and pussy) flutter, resting your head on his chest and slowly dozing off.

in your sleepy state, you mutter, "can we do this next time?"

he chuckles, "we can do more than just this, if you want."

"like what?"

chan whispers in your ear, "maybe next time i can have you cry on my cock, teasing you again and again until you beg me to let you cum." he looks at you innocently, purposely oblivious to how flushed you've gotten. "wouldn't you like that princess?"

"i-i might like that."

he smiles, giving you a final kiss on the lips before carrying you to his bedroom.

"of course you would princess. now let's get you to bed."

chan walks to the side of his bed, placing you down gently and then getting in himself. he pulls you by your waist, one arm under your head and his hand caressing your hair.

as you drift off to sleep, you utter one more phrase before sleep takes over.

"i love you channie."

a/n ♡ ahahah i totally didn't project or anything ;) (this also turned out a lot longer than i thought it would) i also think i could have added some more dialogue but lmk what you think >_<

[nats-firefly]

look what you made me do

dark!sorority!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: she did this for you

warnings: dark fic, mentions of blood, murder, toxic behavior, stalking, power bottom!nat, strap on use, slapping, scratching, possessiveness, smut 18+

a/n: another repost, this is required reading (she's making a comeback ladies (gn))

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t call herself a possessive person. She was never one to hold on to things for a long time, or really care about them sticking around. 

Until you came around.

From the second you saw Natasha you were hooked. Her smug grin and carefree snarky attitude immediately lured you in. You’d never wanted anyone else so bad in your life, and the redhead never felt so wanted. But the feeling of wanting and being wanted was not one Natasha was familiar with. The fight between wanting to keep you to herself and her detached personality an everyday battle.

She managed it, upheld the same rules she kept with every one else with you, even though everything in her wanted to break them. Don’t spend the night, don’t let them leave a mark, don’t chase, and most important of all leave them wanting more. She was almost as obsessed with how many people chased after her than with herself. Then you came along and threatened to change that. 

She didn’t understand what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you would look for her whenever you had class together, or how if you bumped into her on campus you’d always offer to go for coffee. And that one time Natasha was cold and you offered her your jacket, that was a day she would never forget.

It was early spring and the day looked deceptively warm outside Natasha’s window. The sheer tights, miniskirt, and long sleeve in her closet almost screaming at her to be worn. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she realized those were not enough layers. As if that wasn’t enough of a start to her day, some freshman on a bike almost bumped right into her, the close call sending her into the bushes and making her tights snag on the small twigs.

“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” She heard your voice before she felt your hand on her lower back, her cheeks involuntarily reddening. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She reached down to where her tights were snagged, but couldn’t quite reach.

“I got it-”

“No you have to be careful, it will rip.”

“Yeah, Natasha, I got it, now stop moving,” You hand grabbed onto her thigh, the gesture somehow more intimate that any other moment you’d spent together between hickeys and clothes falling to the floor. “There you go, good as new.”

She noticed the way you stopped yourself from kissing where the twig had been. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at you fighting the urge to connect your lips. She had class to attend. You were just a tardy waiting to happen. “Wanna grab coffee?” 

“I-” A wind blew past the two of you, making Natasha’s words falter as goosebumps rose to her skin. “I have class.”

“Do you want my jacket?” Your question was so unexpected she didn’t even have the chance to protest before you were draping the material over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”

And with a kiss on the cheek you were gone and Natasha Romanoff has never been the same. Ever since she revelled in the attention you gave her, got drunk on your compliments and breathed your admiration every time you were around. She couldn’t let something so sweet get away from her.

You only wished she’d tell you. Ever time it seemed like you were one step closer to her she would take twenty steps away. You weren’t exactly fond of it but Natasha was worth playing games for. You’d be her pawn for as long as she wanted.

She couldn’t help the way her head picked up from the book she was reading in a far away corner of the library when she heard your laugh. Natasha didn’t like the way she couldn’t control the smile threatening her lips, but it quickly faded when her eyes zeroed in on where this girl - is that fucking Gen? - you were with was touching you. It was just a friendly touch on your arm but it still made the redhead sick to her stomach.

You didn’t notice her, too focused on trying to finish the project you were working on with your assigned partner Gen. The project was due the following week and the two of you had procrastinated long enough. Natasha watched you the whole time. She changed where she was sitting to behind the two of you after she had finished her work, not wanting to risk any chances of you looking up and seeing her. 

It wasn’t until the sun had set and the library was closing that you and your partner got up to leave. Natasha was already upset, watching you like a hawk. It wasn’t until you opened your mouth that she got mad.

“Do you wanna grab coffee?” She heard your voice in the distance, making her stop in her tracks. She held her arms close to her body trying to keep herself from pacing.

“It’s late, I probably shouldn’t,” She said, starting to walk away from the library. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Another touch to your arm and Natasha was on her way towards you, almost fuming. Nobody gets to touch what’s hers.

“Y/N, hey,” Her voice had no traces of anger, her hands slid up your arm to your shoulder as you turned to her, her fingers stroking the back of your neck. You smiled down at her, your hand instinctively reaching down to her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Hi Nat,” You answered. She almost purred with your hands on her. “What are you still doing on this part of campus so late?”

“I was just working late,” She said, pointing her head towards the library you were just in. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”

“I’d love to,” You said, then pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have really good coffee at my place.”

“That’s funny, I was just gonna suggest we go there anyway,” She laughed, an airy gasp leaving her lips when yours touched just below her earlobe. “Do you invite all the girls you meet to your place?”

“Only the pretty ones,” You joked, pulling away from her and taking her hand. She slyly let go of it, walking alongside you in the direction to your apartment building. You lived a short walk away from campus, the whole time the two of you walked, Natasha though about all the other places Gen might have touched. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” She said, her arms snaking around yours. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “What were you doing in the library so late?”

“Working on a project,” You answered, walking up to your building door. Natasha noticed how you failed to mention the girl. It meant you had something to hide. In reality you knew how Natasha got sometimes when you hung out with other people. You thought it was hot, you just didn’t want her to bother poor Gen. They were in the same sorority after all. And last time she saw you with another girl from her sorority she kicked her out, you never saw her again.

Natasha nodded her head, following you into the building silently watching your movements. When the two of you stepped into the elevator it wasn’t long until the redhead was pressed against the wall with your head buried in her neck. Her hands gripped your shirt while she pressed herself closer to you, only pushing you away when she felt you sucking a little too harshly.

She turned to the mirror, examining her neck and seeing a deep red fading. “What the fuck, Y/N, you know I don’t like that.”

“Right, you only like being associated with me when it’s convenient to you, must’ve forgotten.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, turning around. The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, the redhead following closely behind.

You unlocked your door, avoiding the redhead’s question. Natasha, however, was not ready to let it go. “Don’t ignore me.”

You sighed a long sigh, putting your backpack down on the floor as she walked through the door, flicking the door closed behind her. Your jaw clenched as you stood back up while Natasha walked towards you with her arms crossed in front of her chest. 

“You act like you own me, but every time I make an attempt to return the gesture you push me away, why is that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“Well if you’re gonna do that, do it like you mean it,” Your face was inches away from hers, an angry fire lit behind her eyes.

“You want me to mean it?” She asked, her hands sliding up to your neck, twirling some of the baby hairs are the bottom of your neck around her finger. 

“Yes,” You whispered, inching closer. She leaned in until your lips were mere millimeters apart. Her hand pulled your head back roughly before your felt her lips connecting to your skin. You moaned, your hands automatically finding their place on her hips and pulling her closer. 

Her teeth grazed your skin, her grip on your hair tightening before she made you look at her again. “You’re mine,” She pushed off of you and pushed you back until you fell back onto your bed. “Not anybody else’s,” She straddled your hips, grinding down on the strap between your legs. “Other people don’t get to touch what’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t want anybody else to,” You said, bucking your hips up against hers. Her hand wrapped around your throat as she leaned over you, putting more pressure against your airway. 

“Mine,” She almost growled, lifting her hips and roughly pushing off of you. You gasped, sitting up onto your elbows while you caught your breath. You watched her shimmy her underwear down her legs, quickly scrambling to take off your own. She moved forward and grabbed onto your hands, completely pulling off your pants down before crawling back onto the bed.

“Do you think she wants you?” She asked, her eyes never leaving your body on the bed as she crawled over you. “Think she wants anything more than this?” Her hand wrapped around the strap, pushing it against you. “This is all you’re worth,” She chuckled, darkly, hovering over you. “And it’s all mine.”

You don’t remember telling her you were ever with someone else, but you were too dazed to care. Her nails dug into your thighs as she lowered herself to the toy between your legs. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips when she took the tip of the strap past her lips. Her head bobbed up and down the length of the dildo, her cheeks hollowing out with every movement. It wasn’t long before the redhead was crawling back up your body. 

“Natasha,” You tried pleading, hand wandering her body as she positioned herself. “You- She-”

“Shut up,” She said, her hand circling back around your throat. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

She lined up the toy with her entrance, sliding the tip along her clearly dripping folds. Your hands moved to slide over the top of her thighs, fingers reaching up to her hips then sliding back down. 

“See what you do to me?” She asked, whining as the strap slid over a sensitive spot. Your lips turned up into a smirk as you gripped her hips and made her sink down onto your strap in one swift movement. “Fuck Y/N!”

You knew you had her.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, bucking up into her again. The moan she released something almost angelic. You wanted to hear it again.

She whined, rolling her hips onto yours as her hand made its way back around your throat. You felt her grip tighten as she licked a long stripe up your neck to your ear. “Do that again.”

Your hands slid around to her ass, squeezing her soft skin and moving her hips up and down your length. She moaned against your neck, her hand scratching down from your neck to the top of your shirt. You hissed when her teeth grazed the skin on your neck, knowing you’d be left with a mark there in the morning. 

“Natasha,” You groaned as she pulled away from you, moving your hips in rhythm with hers. She whined, moving her other hand to grip the top of your shirt before she ripped it open. 

“You look so hot like this,” She placed both her hands on your chest, resting her weight on top of you as she continued bouncing on the toy. “So willing to be used.”

You squeezed her hips as she leaned back, running her hands up your chest to your face. She tugged some loose strands of your har sticking to your skin back, then leaned back down to connect your lips one more time. Your hands wandered down to her ass again, making her whine against your mouth.

She ran her nails down your arms to your wrists, taking you by surprise and roughly pinning them above your head. “You’re mine to use.”

You watched her with a smug grin, loving the way her breasts bounced in her tight shirt. She moaned, a long drawn out sound as she worked herself closer to the edge. “Mine to fuck,” Her voice became airy, her head falling back as she rolled her hips onto yours. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”

She leaned back, moaning as her movements became sloppier. Her hand gripped your jaw, her grip tight as she rutted against you.

“You close?” You asked, gripping onto her hip with one hand and her arm with the other. “Why don’t you cum for me then? Make a mess for me Nat.”

“Fuck,” Natasha moaned over you, her walls tightening around the toy as she rode out her high, moaning and whimpering with your movements. You flipped the two of you over, pushing the toy into her deeper, enjoying the way her face contorted with pleasure. 

“Is that all I am to you?” You asked, face inches away from hers. You pressed your hips further into her, making her whine. “Only something to make you feel good?”

You easily slid the toy in and out of her, the toy hitting all the right spots. She picked up her head to look at you in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back with a sigh before pulling out. Natasha whined, leaning up on her elbows with a confused expression on her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” You picked up a shirt from the floor and moved towards the bathroom. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Nat.”

“Since when did that ever make a fucking difference?” She asked, moving off the bed and in front of you. She slid her shirt over her head and let her skirt drop to the floor. Your gaze lowered to her naked body, her smirk growing as you caught your lip between your teeth. “You don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”

She pressed you back against the doorframe, dipping her head into your neck and leaving a trail of small hickeys down your neck. Her hands slid down your arms and placed your hands on her hips, leaning closer to you. You could feel her slow breaths on your face, and you didn’t realize you moved forward until she was pressed against the opposite side of the door frame. 

Natasha’s smirk grew, her white teeth now peeking out from between her lips. “You don’t wanna press me up against the wall and fuck me until I can’t even think anymore?”

“I never said that,” You growled before connecting your lips again, the redhead’s hands entangling in your hair and pulling you flush against her. Your hands reached down and pulled her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Natasha moaned, her lips trailing down your neck as you slid the toy back into her.

She moaned against your skin with ever buck of your hips, her whole body jolting with your movements. By this point in the night you didn’t even have to look in the mirror to know Natasha had littered your skin with deep bruises. She didn’t want Gen to have a single doubt in her mind, you were Natasha’s, not anybody else’s.

Natasha whined into you, hands pulling your head back to look at her. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” You watched her bounce another few times, waiting for her to become more desperate. You tilted your head, smirking when she tightened her grip on your hair and whined. “Please.”

“I’m all yours,” You said, watching her face scrunch up as her orgasm started washing over her. Natasha’s hands gripped onto your shoulders as she came for a second time, her head leaning back onto the doorframe. Your lips kissed down her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot at the corner of her jaw.

Her legs unwrapped from around your waist, your grip on her hips faltering as you slowly eased her down. Natasha pushed you away before you could leave anything permanent. She slid her hands down your chest, admiring the small bruises she left in her wake, tracing the scratches she etched onto your skin.

Natasha loved when you were like this, when your skin was covered with her. There was no way anyone would look at you snd not think you had someone you belonged to. She was pleased with her work, she doesn’t have to worry about Gen. 

—

Natasha wasn’t planning on following you into the library the next day, she really wasn’t. But you sent her a snapchat of you after you showered and she noticed some of her marks had faded faster that she would’ve hoped. She was only doing this to make sure Gen didn’t cross a line.

She watched you greet her, the same friendliness you had offered yesterday. Everything was fine until Gen stupidly decided to ask about the marks on your neck. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” You said, looking over your shoulder. Natasha wondered if you knew she was there. You didn’t, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you. Gen, however, seemed like she had a death wish by how insistent she was on knowing where all the hickeys came from.

“I just don’t get how you have so many, Jesus, Y/N,” Her fingers traced the ones on the side of your neck and you subtly scooted away from her.

“They’re hickeys, Gen, don’t be a fucking moron,” Natasha muttered under her breath, roughly turning the page of the textbook she was pretending to read. The redhead noticed the way you didn’t welcome Gen’s touch, the way you almost flinched away from it. Gen was about to learn an unpleasant lesson.

Whoever Natasha wants, Natasha gets. There’s no standing in her way.

—

You ended up leaving the library much later than you’d planned. Gen had to leave early, telling you she was being called into an emergency sorority meeting. You knew the drill. You knew it was her gaze you were feeling through the day. 

Poor Gen. She was nice, and she loved Tri Delta, it’s a shame Natasha would have to kick her out.

You were packing up your things when your phone buzzed with a text from Natasha. You were wondering when she was gonna text.

Come over?

You answered you’d be there soon. Natasha might be a little extreme, but just enough to keep you hooked. A sick and twisted part of you loved how she went out of her way to make sure she had you.

Because that’s the way it would always be. She had you, and would have you for as long as she wanted, but you’d never have her. Strangely, that was enough for you.

You made your way across campus to Natasha’s sorority, the usually busy campus eerily quiet at this time of the night. When you walked up to the large house, a cold chill ran down your spine, the usually buzzing mansion suspiciously quiet even for this late at night.

The strong smell of bleach was the first thing that welcomed you as you stepped through the door. You watched as two of Natasha’s sorority sisters walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with bloodied rags and a bucket. 

“What the fuck?” You somehow walked further into the house, ignoring every instinct telling you to get the fuck out of there. You spotted a pledge walking past you, her face pale as she carried a bucket of what seemed like bloodied water. 

You continued your way to the staircase, noticing the small droplets of red on the steps. Your stomach turned, wondering what in the hell could’ve happened and why there weren’t any authorities at the house.

“Maria,” You spotted the brunette wiping down the wall, small streaks of red following the rag in her hand. “What the hell happened?”

“You know how she is,” She shrugged and turned back to the wall. “Just Nat being Nat.”

Your head turned to the other end of the hallway where Natasha’s bedroom was. Your chest tightened at the heavy trail of blood leading into the room.

“It’s a shame,” You snapped back to Maria who continued to wipe the wall. “I liked Gen.” 

You swallowed hard as you took careful steps towards her bedroom, trying not to step on any of the blood. Your hands shook the closer you got to the door, having to wipe them on your pants before you entered the bedroom.

“Nat?” The redhead was straddling a body on her bed, her clothes completely drenched in blood with smudged handprints covering her chest and neck. She turned her head to look at you, roughly pulling the knife out of the unfortunate girl under her. Your eyes widened in horror when you noticed it was Gen. 

“Y/N,” Her voice was sweet, and somehow inviting. “You made it.”

“What did you do?” You walked towards Gen, but Natasha stopped you, the bloody knife pressing up against your stomach as she looked up at you. “Nat-”

“She needed to learn her lesson,” Her cold stare bore into you, invited you in, drowned you in her affection. The blade of the knife slid over your clothes before you felt the tip pressing against you. “Nobody comes between me and what I want.”

“Natasha she never did, she-”

“Shh,” The tip of the knife pressed further into you, Natasha’s free hand gripping your jaw and making you look at down at her. “She needed, to learn, her lesson.”

Your chest heaved up and down, your stomach twisting when you noticed her blood was smeared on your face now. You wanted to throw up. Natasha’s lips tugged upwards, bringing your face down closer to hers.

“It’s okay, baby,” She said, her breath brushing over your face. “There’s nothing between us now, it’s just us.” Her lips touched yours and for a moment you forgot what she had just done. “It’s just you and me now.”

It’s just you and her.

Your eyes were locked onto hers. How could someone so perfect do something like this. Gen groaned from her bed, your eyes trailing towards her. Natasha’s grip on your jaw tightened, the knuckles grabbing onto the knife turning white with rage.

“Don’t look at her,” Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “You’re mine.”

She pushed you back before moving towards Gen again. In one swift move, before you could stop her, Natasha sank the knife into the other girl’s chest. Blood spattered on your cheek, Gen’s body went limp.

Natasha turned back to you, her hands shaking and tears in her eyes as if she had just caught up to her actions. 

“All I wanted was you,” Her voice cracked. “I wanted you to myself.”

You didn’t know what you were doing, but you stepped forward and took her into your arms, her small frame shaking with her sobs. “You have me.”

“I did this for you,” She said as you both fell to your knees, Natasha almost limp in your embrace, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she nuzzled into you. “Look what you made me do.”

[youremyheaven]

Ketu: Detachment & Connection

I thought I would expand more on the nature of Ketu in this post. Although both Rahu and Ketu are shadow planets (they are the north and south node of the moon) they experience this darkness very differently. Rahu seeks intense immersion in their experiences and seeks to absorb as much of their material realm (Rahu is the head) but Ketu is disconnected from this completely (Ketu being the headless torso) and even if they want to, they cannot immerse themselves in the material realm, they find it disorienting or simply feel disconnected from it all. Its meaningless to them.

The Ketu nakshatras are Ashwini, Magha & Mula

Ketu is in the darkness and to be Ketuvian is to be in a tunnel perpetually seeking the light. It can be a very uneasy energy to inhabit if imbalanced but this is why spirituality is so important to Ketu natives, they have to cultivate spiritual discipline if they are to peacefully embody this energy and find clarity in its detachment. Most people struggle with overattachment, so having this Ketuvian energy is a great starting point since you're already detached but grounding is very important as there is such a thing as being too detached or uncaring.

The Ketuvian struggle for connection reminds me of certain 8h themes and I think 8housers and Ketuvians have a lot in common in that regard. You need to have an intense kind of connection to feel anything at all, everything else feels kind of mild to your senses. Only intensity can wake you up and make you feel "awake" or "aware" as Ketuvians are sort of in this passive detached state otherwise.

I noticed many of these themes in Jungkook's solo songs. He is a Magha Moon and Mula Rising (he has such a puppy energy, it must be Mula's dog yoni hehe)

I had mentioned in one of my previous posts that being heavily tatted (a full sleeve of tattoos or just being covered in tattoos) is a very Nodal thing to do because they're plunged in shadows and making a mark spiritually helps them feel more connected or because they have to indulge in the extremes of anything for it to feel impactful.

Jungkook has a song called "Still With You" released in 2020, widely considered a love letter to army. These are the English translation of some of its lyrics that I found correlating to his Ketuvian energy

"That faint voice of yours that grazed me Please call my name one more time I'm standing under the frozen light, but I'll walk step by step towards you Still with you

With no light in the darkroom I shouldn't get used to it But I'm used to it again The low-pitched sound of this air conditioner If I don't have this, I will fall apart We laugh together, we cry together I guess these simple feelings were everything to me"

Fame can be a very intoxicating and addictive experience for Nodal natives. Since they feel very disconnected otherwise, they experience connection when it is pouring in such a large or vast scale. But this sort of dependence on fame and fans can also be destabilising and unhealthy because you never know when it might all go away. Since fame is so fickle, its dangerous to rely on it to feel "connected". This is why soooo many Nodal natives who are celebrities are sooo often self-destructive. You keep chasing that high and you'll never feel satisfied, you can never fill the vacuum you have and the harder you try, the more empty you feel.

I don't say any of this to be discouraging, im only trying to point out the emotional expectations we place upon certain experiences and even relationships and how it turns toxic and unhealthy when we do that. If we were to use another person to feel connected or tethered to the world, whilst it may work for us, they must feel very drained by being our anchor.

Jungkook has another demo called Decalcomania and the lyrics go like this:

When I see you smile in the screen You're good at everything You're just perfect Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me? Do you know who I am? Or how do I look now? You don't like me like that

Come and tell me so much, you beautiful heart Oh, I'm gonna listen to you Please

All the numbers too big Can't get out of your game Oh, I want to paint it like you Please

I want to be your decalcomania I want you I want to be your decalcomania I want I want you

He is singing about himself and how he feels dissociated from himself. Fame can be a very dissociative experience for Ketu natives as their search for connection means they feel even more disconnected from the person they become to achieve this connection. Decalcomania refers to the process by which engravings are transferred to another surface (paper, pottery etc). It ties back to Ketu's need to be marked upon, they need something to make an impression on them, literally, because otherwise it does not feel real to them. Jungkook is asking himself to transfer the person he sees on screen to himself, so that he can embody the lightness and joy he sees on him.

Jungkook has another solo song called My Time in which he sings:

"24, feels like I became a grown-up faster than everyone else My life has been a movie, all the time I ran to where the sun rises every single night It's like I've been to someone's tomorrow The boy who found the world too big Keep on runnin' errday, pick the mic up Friends ridin' subway, I'll be in the aeroplane mode All over the world rock on, I made my own lotto But is it too fast? There are traces of losses Don't know what to do with, am I livin' this right? Why am I alone in a different time and space?"

Nodal natives (both Rahu & Ketu) regardless of whether they're child stars or not, have to grow up faster than others. This again makes them feel very disconnected from kids their age, you feel vv lonely.

Oh, I think I was in yesterday 'Cause everybody walk too fast I'm a little kid grown up not knowing it (Like a child who got lost) This got me oh just trippin’ It feels I'm roaming over Don't know what to do with, am I livin' this right? Why am I alone in a different time and space?

It feels confusing and disorienting to live a life that others cant relate to you. Immense wealth and fame can make you feel this way but Ketuvians feel this way in general. They look around them and they feel lost like everybody else is moving too fast.

"Sometimes when I'm gasping for air I wear my hat low and keep running Yeah, I don't gotta know where I go Even if it's opposite of sun One time for the present Two time for the past Happy that we met each other Now 'til the very end"

He's expressing his gratitude for everything even though it feels so alienating and confusing.

There is another song called Stay Alive in which he sings:

"그림잔 커져가지만 Although my shadow grows larger,

괜찮아 너란 큰 빛 덕분이니 It’s okay because it’s thanks to the great light that is you"

This is such a sincere explanation of what its like to be a Ketuvian in the limelight, he's thankful for having such a vast fanbase, the source of his "light" (remember that Ketu is in darkness and is always seeking light) but chasing this light means having to morph into somebody else/feeling disconnected from yourself which he succinctly expresses through the line "my shadow grows larger". Since Ketu is in perpetual darkness and is a shadow planet, it does not confront its shadow on its own. Its the seeking, the constant chasing for the light which they need that brings them to see their shadow.

Perhaps you feel very void and disconnected in general but you have a friend or a partner who makes you feel very tethered, through them you absorb their light but this also means you learn to look at yourself more clearly (Ketuvians are blind to their own nature) and this can be a very disconcerting and difficult experience if you've seldom ever felt "seen".

Emma Watson, Ashwini Sun, Mula Moon

I remember reading this interview in like 2010 where she said that whilst doing red carpets for the last Harry Potter movies she would have these moments where she looked into the mirror and felt very disconnected from the person she saw.

She subsequently turned to yoga and meditation and is even a certified yoga instructor. She has also mentioned going on silent retreats.

Ketu natives truly find balance in their lives when they cultivate a spiritual practice and devote themselves to it. Emma has largely stayed out of the limelight in the last decade or so and will probably continue to do so, this is very Ketuvian again, these natives find social interactions, especially the kind of intensive press tour celebrity life to be very draining, they need to retreat and do things in a way that is "real" to them. Emma has spoken about taking a break from acting and working behind the scenes.

Jungkook deleted his IG despite having 40+ million followers and like most Ketu natives he is very private and has no social media. It does not feel natural or real to them.

In her British Vogue interview, Emma said,

"...Her characters have felt, at times, “much realer” than she was. “I’m just so glad that I did [step away from acting] because I have this feeling of having my own voice and creative space and sovereignty in some way that I don’t think I did before".

This time has allowed Watson to concentrate on her “inner scorecard” (how you feel about yourself on the inside), versus her “outer scorecard” (your outward success, as seen on social media, for example). “I get a front row seat [with] some of the most successful, beautiful, incredible people in the world,” she says of Hollywood’s inner sanctum. “And when you have that seat it becomes very, very clear that there is just absolutely no level of success that will make you in any way happy or content if you do not like who you are or enjoy what you’re doing when no one’s watching.”

All of this feels like evolved, balanced and mature Ketu energy.

Miranda Kerr, Ashwini Sun

She is another person who I've always thought embodies a very healthy and evolved Ketuvian energy

Here's an excerpt from her interview:

“First, I try to do a little meditation and yoga, depending on how I feel. I've been meditating since I was 18. I've learnt Transcendental Meditation and Kriya Yoga Meditation, but sometimes I'm just too much in my head and so I need to put on an app. I use Insight Timer, which has different guided meditations, from a five- or 10-minute meditation or deeper ones which help if I can't sleep.

“Gratitude puts everything into perspective. The way that we speak to ourselves is really important, and to be aware to pull yourself up if you’re being self-critical and try and look at things in a positive way. For example, we can look outside and say, ‘oh my goodness, I can't believe it's raining’, or we can look outside and go, ‘well, it's cosy when it rains, I'd love to be inside and I get to wear my favourite scarf’ – we can switch our whole perspective on so many things. For me, waking up in the morning and thinking of at least three things I’m grateful for is so important. Just simple things like, ‘I’m grateful that we have fresh running water’.”

Salma Hayek, Magha Rising

Salma has been practising meditation and yoga for decades and has said: “It’s actually feeling the energy,” she said. “It moves and it dances inside of you, different sensations and emotions. So I use a lot of the frequency machines.”

Hayek claimed that her meditation works wonders for her appearance. “Sometimes when I’m doing it, people tell me when I come out of the room, ‘Oh my god. You look 20 again,'" she said.

She also warned that if she stopped meditating, her face would suffer. “When I don’t do it for a while, guess what?” she said. “The face starts to drop and everything starts to drop.”

Spirituality comes easier for women than men imo and Ketuvian women are more likely to buy into all things spiritual like crystal cleansing, chakra reading and even other offbeat spiritual techniques.

Gigi Hadid, Ashwini Sun & Rising

Gigi is another person who embodies really healthy Ketuvian energy

In her interviews, she always sounds very grounded and tethered. She said:

"I got pregnant and I really started to think about what I wanted after, when the world opened back up. (she got pregnant during covid) It kept coming back to just a more stabilized schedule where I’m not in a different country every week. This is very stabilizing. I have an office that I come to. I know everyone here. I don’t have to look a certain way to show up. It’s a different experience for me, and it was the right time because I was ready for that,” 

To realize what is causing you to feel unstable and deliberately manoeuvre your life to create that stability requires self-awareness and maturity.

Arnold Schwarzenegger, Mula Moon

He has talked about how bodybuilding and building his physique really helped him feel connected to himself in a different way. I think this is an interesting manifestation of Ketu's disconnection and need to go to extremes to feel anything. Arnold's workout routine from his Mr World days is pretty insane, he worked harder than anybody else and was single-mindedly focused on it. Pushing yourself to such extremes and committing to it is difficult but those Ketuvians who can do so will benefit from it immensely.

Ketu is detached from the material realm. For a Ketu native that isn't tuned into their spiritual side, this can mean feeling disconnected in general but the blessings of retreating to spirituality, slowness, stillness etc means shifting to a version of life where you feel anchored within yourself without depending on anybody or anything to feel that way.

All of the people I mentioned above turned away from the spotlight or made choices to make their lives more grounded and stable and as a result they feel content and satiated. They are detached from the material realm but firmly tethered to the things that matter to them.

I just wanted to make a brief post about how Ketuvians embrace their shadows and how spirituality anchors them.

I hope this was insightful.

[arielburrow]

Hii I have a request for aftercare with joe

Hold Me

smut + fluff (little freaky moment for your Monday pick-me-up 😈😘)

You feel goosebumps rise as Joe’s sleeves rub against the back of you’re legs. With each turn of a corner you feel yourself deepen the kiss, Joe desperate to get you in bed. You finally feel him place you down on his mattress, slowly releasing you from his grasp, not daring to break eye contact.

His figure becomes a silhouette against the faded moonlight coming through his bedroom window. You can’t really see his face as it’s mostly dark, but you watch as he reaches to his waist to pull off his shirt, moving closer to you in the process. You sit up, head tilted up towards him as you open your legs, allowing him to stand as close to you as possible. He looks down to you with a smirk, reaching down to cup your face.

“I need you sweet girl.” He quietly, but sternly insists. “So take me Joe.” you smirk as you push yourself backwards on the bed, welcoming Joe’s presence. He climbs up until he’s hovering over you, two hands pressing down next to both sides of your face. You feel him tug at the hem of your dress and you move to allow him to remove it from you, which he does in a instant. He scans your body with a smile, no matter how many times he’s seen you like this, it always feels like the first. He comes down to your neck, nipping all the way down to your collarbone, earning a whimper out of you. He reaches to unclip your bra and removes it with one hand, while the other immediately attaches to your breast. He kisses and tugs at your breasts, smiling at each little sound that escapes your sweet lips.

Once he detaches his mouth, he kisses down your tummy, spreading your legs as he continues down inside your thighs. He bends your legs up and settles between them before meeting your line of vision. You watch as he teasingly removes your panties with a smirk, those baby blues holding strong contact the whole time. Once he’s done teasing, his tongue latches with your clit. You instantly moan out, not expecting his quick movement. He sucks and laps at your clit and smirks at your moan.

“Oh Joey…baby…” you continually moan his name which only turned him on more. There was something that just added fuel to fire hearing his name come off your lips when you were in this position. He adds a finger, slowly thrusting in and out before picking up the pace. Before you know it, Joe is pumping in and out of you as fast as he can, knowing your on the edge.

“Joey i’m gonna cum!” you practically scream out.

He detaches his mouth and continues to finger you. “Cum on my lips baby.” he pleads as he goes back to feasting on you. You feel your orgasm rise and before you know it you feel Joe’s tongue lapping at the mess you made. Looking down you notice your man smiling like a kid in a candy store. He continues to lick you clean until he’s satisfied, only earning more little moans from you. He brings himself back up to you, pulling you into a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. He pulls away and flips you on your tummy, barely giving you time to catch yourself in the process.

“I’m gonna take you just like that my girl.” he purrs, making you forget the fact that you came just seconds ago, already aching for him. You hear him remove the rest of his clothing and before you can brace yourself, you feel him push himself into you. When you and Joe first had sex, he was slow to let you accept him, knowing it was a lot. He knew you were far more than capable now, and knew how much you liked when he was surprising rough with you. “oh my god” you breathily moan out. “Such a good girl, taking my whole cock at once.” he slowly starts to thrust, running a hand down your back, sending a shiver down your spine. He picks up the pace as he rests a hand on your butt, loving the way he felt you rock against him. You moan out to him, “more Joe!” to which he smirked. You feel him remove his hand from your skin and in an instant he gives your ass a smack. Joe knows exactly how to be with you, he knows you loved that sting, but didn’t want to leave you with any lasting marks. You cry out to him feeling the slight sting as he continues to thrust. “Again Joe!” You call out barely able to form words from the feeling of his cock inside you. “Be patient baby, I want to take my time.” he whispers. The next few minutes are filled with the sounds of skin slapping and curses from both of your mouths as you both recognize that familiar feeling. You feel Joe’s palm come down on your ass again, causing a heavy moan to leave your lips as you push back hard against Joe. Your climax takes over and a string of sounds fills the room as Joe joins you in his orgasm.

With a few more thrusts, Joe pulls out of you and you both topple over onto the bed. Nothing is said for a few moments, just heavy breathing. He turns to you, taking in your state and your breathing. “You okay?” he questions sounding concerned. Your eyes stay glued to the ceiling but you smile. “That was so good Joey, it’s just been a while since we’ve gone that hard.” You both laugh and he pulls you towards him.

“Did I go to far?” he whispers. “No baby, you know exactly my limits, that’s why I love you.” you respond pecking him on the nose.

“Hold on.” He says and you watch as he gets up from the bed and heads to the bathroom. He comes out with a wet washcloth and takes a seat next to you on your side of the bed. He gently pulls your legs towards him, careful not to hurt your now sore legs. He wipes your legs and massages your muscles a bit, earning sweet coos from you. You watch as he inspects your body, not in a sexual way, but in a loving and protective way. He grabs sweats from your drawer in his dresser and lays them next to you.

“Go pee, I’ll go get us a snack, that was like a full body workout.” He says leaving the room as his laugh trails behind him. You giggle to yourself as you walk to the bathroom to pee and change. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you blush as you notice the little red marks along your chest from your lover. You touch each one as they trail down your torso. You smile as you change into your pajamas and get back into Joes bed, beneath the covers. You turn on the TV and find a show you know will keep Joes attention.

Cosmos

Joe enters the room with two bowls. He sets them down and gets into bed with you, wearing nothing but his boxers. He reaches back to the bowls and hands you the bowl of raspberry sorbet.

“my favoriteeee” you purr and Joe smiles as he takes a scoop from his vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. “You’re such a child,” You tease. You loved the rough and intense side of Joe, but you also adored his sweet-innocent side that never seemed to disappear. You both sit in silence eating your ice-creams and watching the space show that held Joe in a trance. Once he decides to call it a night, he reaches over to shut out the lamp. You curl up next to each-other and you feel his arms snake around your waist.

“You need anything baby?” he whispers one last time. “No Joey, just hold me.” you respond moving your head closer to his. “I love you y/n,” you hear him mumble with his eyes shut.

“I love you too Joe,” you whisper. He holds you tighter as you both drift to sleep.

[crystaljellie]

I honestly think that there are so many interesting songs that fit the life series characters so well, so I’m going to talk about them here and explain why I associate them with these songs!

Bdubs - Never love an anchor by the crane wives

"With this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful" | It's guilty because Bdubs feels bad, he feels bad he couldn't achieve what he should. He feels bad that he killed Impulse in third life, betrayed him, and even then it got him nothing. He's guilty because he knows the harm he's caused

"There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would burry you if it had settled on your shoulders" | I notice that Bdubs has a lot of trust and faith in his companies, something about this brings back the 'He loves me' scene from last life back. Bdubs loves a lot more than people seem to think he does, so he must hold it back in case of that love being used against him

"I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel" | Maybe things that Bdubs wants to be, for the sake of letting go and letting himself detach from these people so losing them doesn't hurt as much. Letting other people label him as such

BigB - Know How by the Crane wives

"I am not brave; I keep my focus on what is safe," | I think this is fitting to BigB even if it's not necessarily true; I think from his perspective how he feels, ignoring how he is actually very brave. But at the same time he does keep his focus on what is safe, there's a reason why he always makes it to the final or session before the final.

"Just because I know what I'm supposed to do now, doesn't mean I know how" (Edited line to be shorter) | I'm not sure how to explain this but I do think it really fits him, he knows all the things he's meant to do, to survive, for example killing with the boogeymancurse, but he dragged it out till the very very end before he killed Cleo in last life, because he didn't know how he was supposed to do it.

Etho - I don’t know anyone I am by Salvia Palth

"I don't know anyone, I am in relation to anyone I guess" | Etho has always been seen as a loner throughout all seasons, he doesn't very much get the time to make meaningful bonds or understand his teammates. It makes sense he would struggle to see himself as more than just a survivor as well, he hasn't given himself the time to focus on anything else.

Scar - Icicles by The Scary Jokes

"Their shallow observations will only stall the transformation" | This is very secret life scar to me, maybe something something the watchers talking to him, everyone forcing the title of villain onto him, yet the watchers see him as a gift to them, as a victor and they're trying to make sure Scar keeps doing what he has been and not back out because they're calling him 'villain'

"But I admit it would be easier, To be relieved of all this shame and not have to wear it on my sleeve." | This fits Scar's feelings on the matter, not wanting to go forward, not wanting to be shamed and outcast by the rest of the lifers.

"I can only be forgiven if I'm giving myself up to you" | Secret life in general but also back in 3rd life, Scar believing he can only make up for killing Grian at the end by having Grian kill him, something something 'slay me and take the enchanter'

"My world has turned so cold, but I won't cry, 'cause icicles don't soften when they die so why should I" | Despite Scar being constantly alone, he stayed strong he never 'softened' or cried he also became cold which is why he won.

Grian - Bird Song by Florence + The Machine

"And he sang about what I'd become" | How Grian had slowly lost his mind in third life as well as all the other games, how Grian had became someone obsessed with getting kills, going out of his way to trick and trap people and find loopholes to kill

"I picked up the bird and above the den I said 'That's the last song you'll ever sing" | Grian doesn't want to think that he might be a bad person, or he might be going crazy, so he has to silence anyone saying otherwise, anyone that might prove a danger to him. Maybe because he can't let the watchers get word that he's exactly who they say he his. Maybe even so this is relating to the theory that he might have been the one to curse Jimmy.

Impulse - A Mask of My Own Face by Nature Tapes

Okay now hear me out on this one, Impulse is constantly in and out of alliances especially in third life, lying to everyone to gain vantage.

"And none of them would know that I am secretly myself" | Because they trust that Impulse is putting on a facade all the time, but maybe what they are missing is that the facade is what he considers to be him. Or at the very least keeps him safer

"I'd blame it on the person that nobody knows I am" | Something about him always being like 'Oh I did this so they'd trust me more I'm still on your side I promise' Or 'I did this for the task!' When he could have absolutely targeted anyone else.

Martyn - Metaphors by The Crane wives

"I've gotten good at living on someone elses page" | It's the way Martyn is always deceiving and always planning to betray, living on someone else's page, being content and loyal until he has the chance not to be.

"You can't trust a single thing I say" | Idk something about him talking about how he was planning to betray Ren in third life.

"Don't look too hard cause you won't like the scars he left in me" | THIS BEING SO TREEBARK LISTEN TO ME. HE GAVE UP SO MUCH TO REN THERE ARE SO MANY SCARS CAUSED BY FOLLOWING THE ORDERS TO KILL SOMEONE YOU LOVE

Lizzie - The Crooked the Cradle by The crane wives

"There's blood in the water" | Thinking about Lizzie showing up in limited life to play Pearl and the first thing she was tasked with is killing. Like she showed up and instantly was given the title of boogeyman, a gimmick that was only there in the one other season she was in, a sense of familiarity and a sense of dread.

"The quiet are restless the silent are still" | When there is peace on the server and it is quiet there are people waiting to kill. When it is silent it is because all is dead. And Lizzie knows that well being quick to die each time, she is the silent, especially when she fell into the void, she died alone and in scilence.

"If Mercy's abound I'll be safe I'll be sound, and the devil won't know of the love I just couldn't let go" | Something about Joel being the cause of her death In Secret life... loved him so much she went down for him, she couldn't let it go and it got her killed.

"Can anyone hear me?" | Her in the void not being able to be heard....

Mumbo - Saint Bernard by Lincoln

"To remind me that I am a fool" | I am very strongly of the headcanon that Mumbo is also a watcher, something something he needs to remind himself that he is fooling himself into thinking he could fit in with the world of the watchers or the world of the players

"When I am dead I won't join their ranks because they are both holy and free" | And Mumbo's not, Mumbo doesn't get to go where they go, he still has more to do, more to make up for. Still instructions left to follow

"There's really just one thing that we have in common, neither of us will be missed" This is so Mumbo talking to Grian coded for me

Pearl - Here I am by the Crane wives

"How long have I been here all alone" Double life Pearl in her tower....

"Settled in, had a plan but I never factored in, Everyone else saying goodbye" | Basically also double life Pearl she had a plan with Martyn go to the nether get stuff come back find her soulbound, and then they all left her.

"This ghost town is making a ghost of me" | Everyone dying around her, and being alone like this without chance of redemption slowly killing her.

"I promised myself I'd learn to be the one who leaves" | Throughout the next games, like secret life, she'd be the one who leaves instead of gets left behind, but she didn't seeing how she was always last one alive out of her teammates

Skizz - Wrecking ball by mother mother

"I made a fist and not a plan" | Skizz is usually quite reckless and goes action first plan second.

"You gotta see the artistry In tearing the place apart with me, baby" | This but more in the ironic sense, because Skizz while he wants to reign chaos he is also fiercely loyal and kind to his allies, so tearing the place apart with me, is important. He doesn't just want to cause chaos he wants connections

Scott - Icarus

"Climb ye higher and higher and higher 'Til you're far away and breathing cleaner air" | Scott winning last life, climbing higher and higher through the ranks until he breaks through the clouds into what he had hoped was cleaner air spoiler alert it’s not.

"Who have you become in the wake of all that's happened here?" | What’s happened to you, what happened in last life that changed you, what made you so cold and bitter and so quick to assume the worst when double life came

"Spreading out the ashes of a love That only gave and gave" | Either this as flower husbands, being the ashes of a love that only gave to others, or specifically Scott’s love, that only gave and gave to the one whom he loved

"There's no room for all the hearts who will not stay" | For the people who will not stay with him, the watchers pressuring him to do better and leave the, behind. He won’t though.

Joel - The Wolf by the crane wives

"I will join the wolf at my door Breathing out storms when she comes around" | Well yes we know Joel is a dog boy clearly, but also how he is oh so aggressive to everyone he meets, ferocious and knocking things down.

"I am always burning, burning, burning" | Burning with rage? Burning things down? So many emotions they're lighting up his world so much that it blinds him from seeing anything else

Jimmy - Hollow Moon By the crane wives

"In the darkness, Slowly crawling over my skin, Whispers at the door, "let us in, let us in" | Whispers of the watchers, or maybe his curse, something knocking to let death in.

"I won't be sleeping, There's too many monsters in the backyard" | Okay yes funny because of Minecraft mechanics. But also, idk something about Jimmy not being able to see the watchers but still feeling their presence.

(I'm giving Jimmy an extra song because he's special)

Strawberry blond by Mitski

"I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached" | YES I AM BACK ON MY FLOWER HUSBANDS BULLSHIT! Trust me so much they're so insanely in love, they love the world because they love each other, their relationship is so sweet and soft.

"All I need, darlin', is a life in your shape I picture it, soft, and I ache" | because all they ever needed was each other, not the death not the violence, just to be in love

Tango - Monster by Dodie

"I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain" | Tango's anger and wondering if those reactions made others see less in him. Make him a monster

"You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead" | Idk... something about this and Tango, he always dies relatively early too, maybe it's only death that'll comfort him

Cleo - The Garden by The Crane Wives

"My stone, My shield, my steady hand, Hold your light To the darkness in my head" | Something about this being about how Scott has been her friend and ally throughout all seasons

"Give me something pretty to wear beneath my blood-stained clothes" | I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT BUT THIS IS LIMITED LIFE CLETHO, DOES ANYONE HEAR ME PLEASE TRUST

"My darling, the devil knows my name" | Cleo makes a name known for herself by fighting, making a point with their sword

"Get on your knees and, Dig up the garden, Won't you throw down that spade and, Dig up the garden, darling?" | Something something a wife talking to her husband

Ren - Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

"I died in your arms tonight" | Martyn killing Ren in 3rd life....

"I lost sight in your arms tonight, it was nice" | Lost sight of the goal so obsessed with his kingdom and the Red army

"I cry hard because I have died, and you're alive" | Martyn out living him (Not by very long) In third life

Gem - The Well by the Crane Wives

"All the words I couldn't say to you Fill up the spaces in my chest" | This being Shiny Duo and Gem and pearl being on different sides unsure of how to stay together

"Send me anywhere, take me out I'm the well they're gonna drag you down" | Gem knowing she's only going to be used as a catalyst to hurt others despite her wants

"That old house, those rotting memories Burned easier than I'd have thought" | Those short memories of limited life being replaced by the nicer memories of at least the first half of secret life

And I am done yapping, mayhaps I will do more someday

[deliciousangelfestival]

Silent Heir, Hidden Dangers - 3

Character: Lawyer!Bucky x Female Character

Summary: She suddenly inherits a fortune from an unknown father, navigating dark secrets with lawyer Bucky Barnes in a suspenseful journey of deception.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -

Main Masterlist

As Bucky introduced Y/N to Mark, an unsettling tension filled the room. Underneath the mask that obscured his face, Mark raised his voice, frustration evident in his tone. "Why should I care? She never appeared, and suddenly she's the one who got the money?"

Y/N, caught in the crossfire of familial disputes, felt a surge of confusion and anxiety. "That money? I didn't ask for any of this!"

Mark, his emotions boiling over, directed his anger at Bucky. "You damn traitor!”

Maintaining an air of composed detachment, Bucky responded, "This is your father's wish. I'm just carrying out what he asked me to do.”

As Mark clicked his tongue, dismissing the gravity of the situation, he menacingly declared, "This matter will be done in a second." With a swift motion, he aimed the gun at Y/N's head, ready to pull the trigger and end the unfolding chaos.

However, Bucky, ever the cunning strategist, had another trick up his sleeve. With a quick click of a button hidden in his pants, the window, previously shattered and exposed, suddenly closed down, forming an impenetrable barrier. 

It was a modification Bucky had made, revealing a level of preparation that caught Mark off guard.

Seizing the opportunity, Bucky, quick on his feet, threw something at Mark and his partner. The distraction allowed Y/N the chance to free herself from the remaining bindings.

Y/N's eyes widened as she watched Bucky, in a breathtaking display of agility and skill, engage in a fierce battle against two adversaries. 

The room became a blur of swift movements and calculated strikes, with Bucky seamlessly evading and countering the relentless attacks.

His every motion was a testament to years of training, a dance with danger that unfolded with a fluidity that defied the chaos surrounding them. 

Bucky's movements were deliberate, each punch and kick executed with precision, creating a dynamic spectacle that left Y/N both mesmerized and awestruck.

With Mark and his partner subdued and unconscious, Bucky swiftly took control of the situation, grabbing Y/N and efficiently collecting everything of importance in the room. 

As they prepared to make their escape, Y/N, exhausted from the ordeal, stole a weary glance at her step-brother sprawled on the floor.

Noticing her hesitation, he said, "Leave him. He's not our concern right now.”

Together, Bucky and Y/N hurriedly left the compromised "not-so-safe" penthouse. As they navigated the dimly lit corridors, Bucky murmured with a hint of satisfaction, "Luckily, I put that unit into insurance."

Y/N, gritting her teeth in frustration, rolled her eyes at his nonchalant remark. "Insurance? We just got attacked, and you're worried about insurance?"

Bucky, undeterred, replied, "It's not just any insurance. It has some unique perks.”

And he dropped another bombshell. "You have three other siblings."

Y/N, incredulous, halted in her tracks. "What? You should've told me that before all this chaos!"

Bucky, unapologetic, responded, "Would it have changed anything? The less you knew, the safer you were."

Y/N, exasperated, retorted, "Safe? So, the other three want to kill me too?"

Bucky, with a sardonic grin, confirmed, "Oh, for sure.”

Y/N, clicking her tongue in frustration, muttered, "I felt safe already," her words dripping with sarcasm. 

Both of them got into the car and left. The penthouse, now behind them, seemed like a distant memory as the labyrinth of family secrets expanded.

As they navigated the city's shadowy streets, Y/N couldn't shake the burning question. Turning to Bucky, she asked, "My other siblings. Do they have the same mother?"

Bucky, pausing for a moment, finally responded, "Different. You have two brothers and one sister. Each of them has different mothers."

Y/N, incredulous, couldn't contain her surprise. "What? You've gotta be kidding me."

Bucky, chuckling with a hint of irony, explained, "Your father Max was a womanizer.”

Y/N, piecing together the fragmented puzzle of her father's life, couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and understanding. "No wonder why my mother hated him so much.”

Y/N, still grappling with the revelations, muttered, "So, not only do I have to survive attempts on my life, but I also have to navigate through sibling drama. Great.”

Caught in the crossfire of her father's complex legacy, Y/N couldn't help but question the man beside her. "Since you're close with my father, are you the same womanizer like him?"

His mind wandered to the times he had to drag Max out of clubs, deal with irate former flings throwing tantrums because Max never replied to them, and navigate the intricate web of Max's romantic entanglements.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Bucky couldn't suppress a wry smile "Yeah, I guess so."

In the dimly lit room where Mark had awakened, he fumbled with his phone and made a call. "We messed up. She's still alive.”

On the other end, a mysterious figure studied Y/N's documents and photos in the darkness. Mark's voice echoed through the line, "I'm sorry, I failed."

The room plunged into silence before the unseen figure, frustration palpable, stabbed a photo of Y/N and Bucky taken from a traffic camera. "Fine, I'll do it myself.” The person who just spoke is Mason, Max's oldest son.

A mature woman's voice sliced through the quiet, accompanied by the moonlight revealing only the glimmer of a large jade ring on her hand. "Make this right. She's just one person." 

The woman, known as Mrs. Mallory Wolfe, exuded an air of authority that hinted at a deeper connection to the unfolding drama.

Another woman, her voice filled with a seasoned assurance, joined the conversation. "She's alive because Bucky is beside her." 

This was Madeline Wolfe, Max Wolfe's second wife, her calm demeanor masking the complexity of her motives.

In the shadows, another woman with a younger voice, tinged with nervousness, questioned the unfolding events. "Do we really have to do this?" 

The voice belonged to Marianne Wolfe, the youngest stepmother in the enigmatic Wolfe family, a woman caught in the intricacies of loyalty and fear.

Mason, wearing the weight of responsibility, responded with a voice that carried his family's legacy. "Don't worry. I will take care of it."

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 ,-

Author Note :

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Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

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[stinkysam]

Buggy the Clown - Who's got it bigger ?

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “jealous buggy x reader. where the reader is complementing cabaji's biceps. then buggy goes "Mines bigger".” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

You were sitting in the empty circus tent, watching Cabaji throw knives for the big spectacle you were all preparing. You yawned, watching at first the knives he grabbed and played with, before looking at his hand throwing them. Then your eyes moved to his arm, to stop at his biceps, flexing and unflexing as he moved.

Damn, they're big ?

Your eyes widened a bit as you stared for a few seconds before standing up, walking to him.

“Wait, Cabaji !” You stopped him, walking closer as you rolled up your own sleeves “Let me look at your arms ?”

He looked at you, surprised, but said nothing, nodding instead, letting you look at his arms. You flexed yours, putting it next to his biceps.

“Damn you have big muscles !” You exclaimed, laughing, making Cabaji chuckle, unaware your captain was behind you. He had stopped dead in his tracks as he had heard you, frowning.

He removed his coat, grumbling, placing it on one of the empty chairs and walked to you two.

“Mines are bigger, if you wanna be impressed.” He said proudly, flexing his arms.

You squinted your eyes, looking at his biceps then at Cabaji's.

Came to you two possibilities. Lie, but make your captain happy, or tell the truth and possibly make him mad. You tried not to smile as you grimaced, thinking hard.

“What's with that face ?” He asked, growing annoyed by your silence. Where was your amazement, huh ?

“Well…”

“What !? They are bigger ! Look better !” He yelled, placing himself next to Cabaji who had stopped flexing, not wanting to anger your captain even more. “Do it, idiot !” He said, slapping his arm.

Cabaji held in a sigh and obeyed, flexing again. You could tell he was trying to make it look smaller than before and Buggy noticed.

“Raah ! You're all… stupid !” He stomped, annoyed, throwing his hands in the air, and walked away. “You're lucky you're both needed for the show or else you would've been fired !” He menaced before disappearing, leaving his coat behind.

Buggy ignored you for the rest of the day, even when you brought him back his coat, still upset you found his biceps smaller than Cabaji's.

Then, came nighttime and you went into bed with him.

“Come on, stop sulking.” You said pulling the covers over you, your head resting on Buggy's shoulder.

“I'm not sulking.” He replied, glaring at you.

“I love your muscles.” You shifted a bit, grabbing one of his arms, hugging it. Buggy scoffed. “It's true !”

“Stop lying.”

“I'm not ! I was just surprised that Cabaji got biceps this big !” You explained and his eyes twitched, still not pleased. “Come on, I like your little muscles.”

“They're not little !” He yelled, trying to get away from you.

“I was joking.” You laughed, pecking his lips quickly before he could move more. “I don't care that they're smaller than Cabaji's, I don't like his muscles.”

Buggy grumbled, still trying to get away, he detached himself from his arm before getting out of bed.

“I don't care, you're leaving me your second favorite part of you.” You said, pulling your tongue out. “Wanna know what's the first one ?” You smirked, knowing you had picked his interest. “It's your cute nose.” You said with a wink.

Buggy froze at your words, blushing a bit before stomping.

“Are you mocking me !?” He yelled, hiding his nose behind his free hand.

“I'm not mocking you.” You simply said, nudging his arm with your cheek. “I love you, it's only normal I like your nose and your arms. My head is resting so perfectly against it.” You sighed, happy. “If you had too much muscle it wouldn't be comfortable.”

He glared at you, unsure of what to do.

“It's up to you to come back to bed. I'm fine sleeping with only your arm in your bed. You left me your hand so I can hold it if I want. I don't really need you.” You said, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your lips, kissing it. Buggy stared with wide eyes.

“Oi !” He exclaimed, jumping back into bed. “You can't have only the parts you want !” He said, reattaching his arm to himself.

“Good. Because I lied. My favorite part of you is all of you.” You said with a grin, kissing his cheek and wrapped your arms around him, caging him against you.

Buggy grimaced, trying not to let your words win him over.

“I love you.” You said, kissing his shoulder, resting your chin on it.

You heard him grumble quietly, looking away slightly embarrassed before replying.

“I love you too.”

“Were you jealous ?” You finally asked, after a moment of silence.

“I wasn't !” He replied a bit too fast, his cheeks reddening quickly.

You chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Don't be. You're the only one I love.”

“I told you I wasn't jealous !”

You hummed, one hand turning his face toward you and you kissed him, making his heart jump in his chest.

“Let's fucking sleep.” He said with a pout, trying to hide his blush by turning the lights off with a flying hand.

[leorawright]

Can I have the lords (Re8) with a partner that is able to detach and reattach their limps and body parts, and when they are detached they are able to move around on their own please?

That's so cool!

Lords with s/o who can detach and reattach limbs

Alcina Dimitrescu

She's quite interested in your ability

You nearly gave her a heart attack when you first detached one of your arms though

But now whenever you casually detach an arm or a leg, she barely notices

If you make any jokes when she asks for a hand and you throw one of your arms at her, you're about to get your arm thrown with full force at your face

Donna Beneviento

Her first thought was how similar your abilities were to dolls being able to do the same

She also notices how sometimes you struggle to reattach your arm when you're wearing long sleeves

So she makes you special clothes to help accommodate your abilities

Salvatore Moreau

He fainted when you detached your leg because you hadn't told him what you could do

So after you explain he's very much relieved that you weren't about to bleed out

Please warn him, though, if you're about to detach a limb because if he's not prepared for it, he might throw up

Karl Heisenberg

For a second he spaced out before realizing that you literally just took your arm off of your body

Cue a small panic attack before you explain your abilities

He's much more comfortable with you randomly detaching your arms and legs now

If he asks for a hand and you throw your arm at him, he tries so hard not to laugh before he eventually gives in (and plus his laugh is adorable)

[aqricus]

SHAMELESS ! feat. bachira meguru

V SAYS . . . “bachira is greedy, especially when it comes to you, and he doesn’t care who knows about it.”

+ WC . . . 4.7k

+ sfw material. suggestive. character aged up 21+. fem reader. bachira is a little off his rocker. heavy(ish) makeout session. bachira likes lipstick prints. just take it, i’m too tired for real editing.

@m-ikage i can no longer be saved.

if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about bachira, it’s that he’s selfish.

ever since your paths briefly intersected years ago when he was nothing more than a daredevil candidate for the national team with a tenacious streak and wild eyes housing an adrenaline-starved monster, he’s been self-centered. you’ve watched him from the sidelines, even if he wasn’t always aware, eyes analytical and inquisitive as you witnessed him storm the field with enough brazen confidence to shave four years off your life. it was evident from the jump that he preferred hoarding the ball, relying on his own abilities and viewing other players as experiments for his own personal gain rather than as teammates. you didn’t need to be perceptive to notice that the intense hunger for victory and superiority that flowed through his veins was palpable.

but, above all else, he’s selfish when it comes to your attention.

having been the first person to earnestly return his confession without regard to his idiosyncratic personality, he clung to you, craving to be showered in affection and reassurance that you do, indeed, still share his feelings. meeting and befriending like-minded individuals among blue lock was beneficial to healing his social detachment, but having a romantic partner was entirely different. the warmth that seeped beneath the old scar of loneliness was brand new to him. it was silken and ticklish, caressing the tips of his ears with heat every time you touched him, each word of praise or sentiment from you swaddling his brain in a honeyed varnish that left him tugging obnoxiously on your sleeve or whatever limb is closest just to ask you another question.

it’s intoxicating, leaving him desiring more and more of your touch, of your attention, of your time. he’s borderline obsessive, perhaps, in the passing—envious, bachira might also claim—opinion of certain teammates of his, but when you’ve always indulged his touchy-feely behavior, could you truly blame him?

even now, it's the same.

loose granules of cinder crunch beneath the sole of your sandal as you shift your weight from one leg to the other. the jumbled chatter and buzzing conversation swirling among bachira's team as they mingle a little ways away has dulled to nothing more than white noise as you focus your attention on rooting through the mess of miscellaneous items stashed in the bag slung over your shoulder. it's light, the straps not pressing too heavily into your shoulder. light . . . very light. almost too light, you notice with a furrow in your brow.

"something the matter?"

you glance up at the sound of a familiar voice to witness bachira separating himself from the sea of color-block jerseys with a slight, inquisitive tilt of his head and an easy upturn of his lips. you return his smile and shake your head. “no, i’m fine. i just thought my bag seemed a little lighter than i remember. it’s probably nothing.”

he hums and extends his hand without breaking eye contact, seeking your own as if out of habit. “you sure?” his fingers lace through yours. the pads are calloused from countless hours spent honing his chiseled physique and bear a slight chill against your skin. he lifts your hand and sandwiches it between his own as if attempting to shield it from the cool breeze wafting through the scenery. “mm, could just be nerves, y’know.” he muses. his round eyes spark with energy as he squeezes your hand between his own, energy practically rolling off him in waves and prickling along the light dusting of hair blanketing his arms. “i hear the team we’re gonna play is pretty tough!”

“yeah—”

“isn’t it exciting?” he exclaims abruptly, and your eyes soften.

whereas most people would be wracked with nerves when preparing to face a team rumored to be one of the most formidable on the field, bachira has always welcomed such challenges, rivaling them all with a ferocious tenacity and a drive to succeed. and, after spending all that time meditating in complete stillness and sharpening his mind’s focus before boarding the bus, it’s only natural that he’d be buzzing with such energy and enthusiasm. “i spent hours watching footage of their plays, so i know them like the back of my hand now. one of them is super good at dribbling, but i’m still better.” he boasts with a proud grin. “man, i can’t wait to crush them on their own turf! hey,” he leans forward until the tip of his nose is just shy of bumping into your own, gaze trained on yours in a moment of sobriety. his golden irises glimmer as he inquires, “you’re staying for the whole match again, right? you’ll be waiting for me?”

“of course,” your laughter is quiet, but his eyes sparkle, anyways. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else. i even brought—” your sentence is cut into silence when you’re struck by a moment of clarity, and your eyes widen as you finally recall the item absent from your bag. “my camera!” your hands wrench away from his with a gasp, and he makes a small sound of surprise at the sudden absence of warmth that engulfs his hands. the bite of your fingernails into his triceps when you grip at his upper arms is blunted by the polyester material of his jersey. but he doesn’t seem to mind, eyes instead darting feverishly over your own to analyze how dire the situation truly is. “i was gonna take pictures!” you lament to your boyfriend, a whine pitching your voice. “i was gonna be right up front, too! i wanted to print them out and put them in that scrapbook i bought. oh, my—how quickly do you think i can run?”

“pictures . . ?” bachira echoes, but his tone is remarkably less perturbed than yours and so low it can barely be classified as a murmur, as if the idea of you being his own personal photographer was too outlandish to process. ignorant to the way the cogs in his brain are rotating on overtime, you release your death grip on his arms with a groan and whirl around to face the cluttered rows of parked cars stretching nearly as far as the eye can perceive. but, bachira doesn’t seem even remotely interested in assisting you, all of his attention transfixed on the small wrinkle of frustration creasing your brow and the way the artificial light glistens off the fresh film of sparkly gloss overlaying your lips when you pensively press them into a line.

you’re unaware of the way his attention is trained on your side profile despite the intensity of his gaze, pupils constricted with a razor-sharp acuity that most would consider to be borderline predatory. his expression is completely neutral as his gaze sears holes into your temple, which would most certainly make the situation that much more unnerving and disconcerting—if you were paying enough attention to notice, that is. it’s as if his mind has stalled, suspended in limbo as he processes your words. “you . . . were gonna take pictures of me? and print them out? like, with ink and stuff? and put ‘em in a book?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you shift your attention back to him with little care for the off-putting way he’s surveying you, more aghast that he could even be so oblivious to how photogenic he appears whenever he’s focused on the game than anything else. granted, this would be your first time capturing snapshots of his time on the field with an actual camera instead of your phone; however, you both know that this definitely wouldn’t be his first time being photographed on the field. after bearing witness to the incessant clicking of shutters and obsessive fawning from the team’s fan base more times than you can count, you can say that with full certainty.

you hook your thumb beneath the strap of your bag and slide it higher up on your shoulder. “i take pictures of you all the time on my phone, as do your fans.” you explain casually, eliciting the pucker of his lips into a tiny ‘o.’ “i can promise you that there are at least a hundred people out there right now with personal photos they took of you taped to their wall. they . . . wait, you knew that, right?” you blink.

of course, he knew about his fans. after having numerous photos of himself and body parts shoved in his face, all vying for the opportunity to have his name scribbled across them in scarlet ink until his wrist ached, it’s impossible not to be aware of the spike in popularity that accompanies being a member of such a distinguished team. however, to have you, someone perched upon a golden pedestal of admiration and reverence in his mind, find such delight in his abilities that you wish to immortalize them is far different, and it makes his heart swell with pride. you really do like him, it seems. 

the suggestion of such a sentimental gesture only nourishes the pre-existing, vivid gleam of excitement alight in his eyes. plumes of fiery adoration seep through the depths of his gaze, bleeding all the way to his irises and trickling down his sternum to cause warmth to pool in his chest. this time, when he smiles, it’s unrestrained, and he does little to mask the faint flush of rose that scales the tips of his ears.

the thrum of his heartbeat now slightly more noticeable to him, he reaches for you. your attention shifts back to him at the feeling of his fingers curling around your upper arm. “is something wrong?” he wants to coo at the innocuous twinkle in your eye—so attentive yet unassuming, so blissfully ignorant to the underlying touch of mischief to the toothy grin curving his lips as he shuffles a step closer. 

sometimes, you tend to forget that bachira is romantically stunted from having dedicated himself to advancing his physical prowess, this exposure to a brand new situation causing his emotions to fester and swell without a proper outlet before finally manifesting in his own . . . interesting ways. even now, instead of attempting to vocalize his appreciation, his fingertips tingle with the urge to pinch your cheeks, to ensnare you in his arms and smush you against his chest until you have to fight for breath, to just engulf you until you feel him as intensely as he does you. he’s an ardent lover—always been, but that’s part of why you adore him so. 

“baby,” it’s the teasing, crooning lilt in his voice that you recognize as his hands start to drift toward your waist, a warning you’ve learned to identify that’s usually succeeded by some type of embrace or grip you end up having to struggle to escape. it lures you deeper, closer into range, his hold on you barely more than a whisper over your skin until the distance between you is short enough for it to snap shut around you, ensnaring you with an iron strength he has no business having.

he bears a playful glint in his eye and a ticklish touch to match, but you know better. “no, you don’t,” you laugh, palm pressing flat against his stomach to edge him back a step. “meguru, i need my camera.” you lean closer to place a chaste peck against his cheek, which, admittedly, was your first mistake. “you need to be with the rest of your teammates right now.”

your second mistake is lingering to offer him a warm smile. while bachira is sweet to you, you should know by now that he has no problem playing dirty. he tilts his head, teeth vanishing into a closed-lipped smile. “mhm!” however, as soon as you relax, he’s quick to take advantage of it. one of his hands clamps down on your hip before you can turn away, keeping you pinned in place. “but, only if you give me my kiss for good luck.” you’re not surprised at his attempt to bargain with you; although, with how firm his hold is on you, it’s less of a compromise and more of a demand. “it’s tradition.” he reminds you cheekily.

while that much is true, you both know that you would be more than willing to indulge him and uphold your little pre-game ritual, which means that, considering the way he’s taking extra precautions by holding you still, whatever is coming next most certainly entails more than one kiss.

still, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, knowing that utilizing all of the time allotted for warming up his muscles is quite valuable to him—your third mistake. “that’s correct,” you agree. “but, i’m wearing lip gloss, and you’re about to head inside, so we have to be careful.” with that, you clasp your hands behind your back and tilt your chin to plant a brief kiss on his almost comically puckered lips. 

but, it’s not enough for him. the retraction of your head is calm, a sharp contrast to the desperation in his touch as the hand resting on your hip abruptly flickers up to cup your jaw and halt your withdrawal. “me—” your gasp of surprise is interrupted by the sealing of his lips over yours once more. the motion is uncalculated and uncoordinated, more spawned from a yearning for close proximity than anything else, but you don’t particularly mind. the press of his lips to yours is firm, the tip of his nose smushed against yours in an endearing display of inelegance that causes the corners of your lips to quirk upward into a small smile. his fingertips are alight with a lively heat that dances over your skin as they adjust into a more comfortable position, and you giggle against his lips at the ticklish caress of his thumb over the hollow of your cheek.

the moment you slip from his hold and start to turn away from him, regret begins to settle in, and you find yourself wishing to return to the warmth of his body when the crisp evening air rushes to engulf the ghost of his touch. regardless, you need to hurry up. unfortunately—or fortunately, whichever you may decide—you only make it a few steps before you feel the familiar weight of his hand on your shoulder once more, spinning you back to face him. 

the silent inquiry twinkling in your eyes is met with a spark of something ravenous, insatiable, puddles of vibrant gold sharpened to an acute point that pierces directly to your core. despite the secluded area of the parking lot and the clear inattentiveness of his teammates, you feel exposed—vulnerable—as if bachira’s gaze alone is intense enough to feel as if you’re being riddled with countless stares from every angle, each watchful eye stripping you down to your bare skin. it’d be unsettling if you were any less involved with him; but, as you relax in his hold, you’d figure you’re well-accustomed.

“meguru,” you chuckle, “i have to go.”

but, he wants more. one more kiss—no, two more, or perhaps three more if fortune deems him worthy. bachira knows you like the back of his hand—knows how to talk to you, where to touch you, and how to kiss you to sap your knees of their strength and leave you pliant enough to refashion your will to align with his. “one more, promise.” his voice is sticky-sweet, but his vow is empty, devoid of even a modicum of truth. it always is when it comes to your affection. just spend five more minutes with him in bed, give him one more kiss before you bid him farewell and head off to work, just let him hold you for one more minute—lies, all of them.

although, when you recognize his attempts to pour a year’s worth of reverence and adoration into such a simple gesture, you can’t quite find it in yourself to protest. so, you allow it, acquiescently tipping your head to connect your lips in a single kiss. but, just as you anticipated, he has no intention of releasing you just yet. every small, unhurried shuffle you take backward, he takes one forward, closing the distance you try to gradually squeeze between you. his presence is inexorable, curling around you and encompassing you entirely until there’s nowhere you can look—nowhere you can reach—that isn’t already occupied by him. he trails after you as if his body is operating on autopilot and all brain activity has idled, unabashedly—obsessively—pursuing you with the intent of stealing a kiss with every footstep if manageable. 

you can feel your resolve weakening with every brush of his lips, heart fluttering and limbs growing cumbersome as you try to focus on placing one foot behind the other. you know you’re a goner, as does he. any long-term resistance is futile. but, it isn’t until the tip of his tongue sweeps mischievously over your bottom lip that you cease motion altogether. your muscles tense, and your eyes widen as you sharply break the kiss, voice a tad breathless when you anxiously object, “wait—”

but, even if he hears you, bachira doesn’t seem to care. you’ve always been more cautious about monitoring the affection you two show each other in public, constantly worried about intimate photographs being snapped and stamped along countless tabloids and magazines with both of your names smeared across the headlines like a stain. you enjoy the privacy you’re afforded, something he can understand. but, he also reasons that it isn’t quite a good enough reason to keep his hands off you. he’s positive his extroverted nature plays a major role in his thought process, but in his mind, it’s quite straightforward—you two are together, and he will not allow anyone to influence that.

it doesn’t matter how envious certain fans may become or how much his manager may gripe about such a “distraction,” every external force and nagging complaint dwindles to white noise with the press of your body against his. you’re all his—his pretty girl, his sweetheart, his girlfriend, and he knows that there exist those who would cheat and steal to experience a fleeting slice of the treatment you lavish bachira with on a daily basis. why wouldn’t he want to show you off? 

with that, he tilts his head forward one final time, enveloping your lips in a kiss far deeper and far more torrid than any of the previous ones. you tense, a small murmur of surprise slipping from your throat, when you feel the slick tip of his tongue delve between your lips, coaxing them further open to allow him unrestrained access to every nook and cranny. his kisses are always energetic, overwhelming in the best way that leaves your knees wobbly and your brain buzzing from oxygen deprivation—this one is no different.

it’s as if you have to switch off conscious control of the rest of your body in order to focus well enough to maintain the fervent movement of his lips against yours. you know that if you fall behind, he’ll be quick to seize the advantage, and that is something you cannot afford right this moment. bachira is shameless with his affection, and only god knows how he’ll utilize any inch of surrender you offer.

you blindly scramble for purchase to balance yourself and manage to curl your fingers into the material of his jersey. the tight pull of the fabric into your fist is met with the feeling of his lips twitching into a grin against your own. contrary to his typical touchy-feely behavior, this time he doesn’t make any move to steady you, and your ears burn at the thought of him actually deriving amusement from your dependence on him after previously demonstrating such resistance. bachira is nothing if not impish—you knew this; yet here you are, hopelessly entangled in another one of his countless ploys contrived to submerge you in the same desire that courses through his veins on a nearly daily basis. he made sure you’d be fighting an uphill battle the moment you allowed him to lay his hands on you; and now, that’s crystal clear to you.

although, you aren’t sure whether the heat coalescing in the pit of your stomach is one of indignation or carnality.

“bachira!”

your heartbeat spikes.

someone’s acknowledged him. someone sees you.

all you can muster is a spark of strength, but it’s enough to break the kiss and retract your head. your stomach flutters at the sight of a strand of saliva webbing between your and bachira’s lips, and you hastily smear the back of your hand across your mouth to disconnect it. oh, god, please let it at least be someone meguru knows. the heat brewing beneath your clothes is almost stifling, the new twinge of desire at the apex of your thighs even more so, and you promptly swivel your head toward an empty area of the parking lot. it’s safe to say that you’re still reeling from your boyfriend’s bold ministrations, so you’re certain that one glance at your face will incriminate you. you exhale slowly. i can’t be seen like this.

you’re embarrassed to have been noticed, to say the least; but, bachira clearly is not. he reacts without any sense of urgency. his eyes twinkle as he observes you, watching you lean closer to rest your cheek against whatever part of him you can reach first. she’s warm, he notices as he lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, his pinky grazing the nape of your neck. how sweet. his giggle is quiet, an unnervingly sharp contrast to his prior actions. you’re so cute; it makes him want to eat you up—to swallow you whole and keep you all for himself. tempting. instead, he tucks you against his chest and nonchalantly turns his head toward one of his teammates who has detached from the main group and is now standing a few yards away with his hands planted on his hips.

he doesn’t appear ruffled in the least at having caught bachira’s tongue shoved down your throat—more exasperated than anything else. “hurry up,” he advises, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at where the rest of his team is still mingling. “we’re leaving in a few minutes.” 

“yeah, ‘m coming!” bachira calls back, as ebullient and carefree as ever.

his teammate starts to turn back, only to glance over his shoulder at the last minute. “and, wipe your face, too. the paparazzi will eat you alive.” he gripes.

wipe his face? you quizzically lift your head from its place nestled against him, only for your eyes to pop wide with horror at the sight. “meguru!” you gasp. his lips are framed with visible fragments of glitter from your lip gloss, saliva having trickled down to the point of his chin in rivulets of tacky translucence and kaleidoscopic shards. his jersey is a bit wrinkled from where you’d been clutching it, and you clumsily run your hand over the creases to try to smooth them out. “oh, my god, i totally forgot about the lip gloss. i—” you reach into your bag for a clean tissue or napkin—anything, really—and fish out a wadded napkin that seems otherwise untouched. “here, use this to wipe it off.”

“and let it all go to waste?” bachira lifts his chin a bit and touches his fingertips to his bottom lip with a cheeky grin, and your heart almost stops when he angles his face toward the more populated area of the parking lot. “don’t wanna. the color brings out my eyes.”

“what are you talking about? it’s clear—” your teeth close on the tip of your tongue, tension already beginning to stack in your chest. this isn’t new behavior by any means; he’s always had a strange fondness for having your lip prints stamped across his skin, whether it’s his cheeks, throat, or chest. and, it’s not that you don’t like it, no—it’s just that there cannot be a worse moment for him to decide to keep them.

“meg,” you reach for his face to squish his cheeks between your palms and turn his head back toward you, and his lips pucker at the fire in your eyes. “your fans will literally crucify me if you walk out there with lip gloss all over you. they’re insane.”

“ah,” you can tell he isn’t enthusiastic about having to adhere, but he accepts the napkin from you, nonetheless. “fine. but,” his toothy smile returns. “you gotta make it up to me when we get home, m’kay?”

“what do you mean?” your eyebrows furrow, perplexed. “you mean more kisses? i mean, of course, you can have more—”

but, you fall silent when he shakes his head. “nope. ‘s not all i want.” you don’t get the chance to ask for clarification before he’s inclining his head until his face stills mere inches from yours. your eyes flicker down to the space between you when he raises a hand to tap his forefinger against his cupid’s bow. you can’t bring yourself to avert your eyes, his gaze pinning yours in place. “i told you, i liked how it looked.” your stomach flips at his words. “sent a real good message, too.”

“but, you’re making me wipe it off.” he reminds you, as if the blame lies with you instead of his fans. you do like seeing your lip gloss on his skin; it proves that he’s yours. you just don’t want to have to deal with the consequences if photographs spread; because, while he’s not an actor or musician, he still has his own share of unsavory, possessive fans. “so, you gotta make it up to me by givin’ me some more after i win. one for each goal i score—and i get to leave it on.”

your brain idles for a split second. “that’s . . . what you want?”

“mhm,” he nods. “a favor for a favor. so,” he leans forward, bumping his forehead against yours. “we have a deal?”

you’re quiet for a moment, mulling over his words, before dissolving into soft laughter. to make a trade such as this, bachira truly is odd. but, you tilt your chin up to place a chaste peck to the tip of his nose. it’s cute. “we have a deal.” you agree with a smile. “now,” you press your palms against his abdomen to ease him back a few steps. “i’m getting my camera. your team is waiting for you.” this time, he doesn’t object and lets you go, but you can still feel his eyes fixated on your back as you begin your trek through the rows of vehicles. 

“actually . . . i changed my mind.”

you turn back at the sound of his voice to spot a roguish grin playing on his lips.

“the color. i want red, instead.”

[mari-lair]

That’s a lot of questions, but I’ll try my best to answer them all!

.

Aoi doesn’t care about an individual perception of her, she genuinely has no interest in a stranger because she always assumes they have bad intentions. They want to hurt her: It does not matter if they are jealous or worship the ground she walks on, they they will hurt her. Which is a sad way to view the world, so she defends herself.

Her attitude is a big wall that says “If I don’t care about you or your opinion, you can’t hurt me”. 

She detaches herself from it all, preferring apathy over being vulnerable and opening herself to be hurt. This lack of confrontation, this apparent lack of care (she doesn’t seem to ask even simple things most kids would in her situation “Why are you bullying me?”) makes her feel arrogant, which feeds into people’s bad view of her and prove her trust issues right, which gives her more reasons to believe she is right and became more arrogant.

Akane was always there to stop anyone from going too far when messing with her, so she can look down on others even when they got aggressive without fearing for her health. She can’t be hurt emotionally in her indifference, and she doesn’t care about physical injuries, not when the most she’ll get with Akane around to protect her is a scratch.

So she keeps this up to the point Akane genuinely starts believing she is a tough girl that doesn’t care when people are mean to her.

But she does.

She just pushes it all away, and pretends she is above it all. Growing genuine in her arrogance after training herself to not care all the time, convinced the way the world sees her doesn’t matter, because they don’t matter.

Aoi can’t use this defense when she already cares about someone, but she still naturally assumes the worst of people when it comes to how they view her, so something as small as a petty fight with someone whose views she deeply values can be extremely hurtful.

She is scared.

“Akane hates me, he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, he never liked me in the first place!"

She is also visibly angry: She hates that she cares, she hates that she can’t hide it. Notice how she doesn’t say anything or try to run after Akane. She is trying very hard to convince herself she “Doesn’t care”, she wants so badly to ignore Akane, or to hate him, but she can’t do either, so she defaults to being angry at herself.

The reason Akane finds her crying so cute is not because the tears look cute, is because it shows how much she cares about him. Under all that bravado and arrogance Aoi is a sensitive girl who wants to be loved, and she is very attached to the people she considers friends, she can act tough all she wants but if a loved one says "I hate you" she is so distressed she cries.

Aoi hates how sweet and 'weak' her heart under all her icy defenses. Akane finds it cute.

Akane was her only friend for most of her life, so the person she pays the most attention to, and the one she compares herself to the most is Akane.

Akane is the direct opposite of her: People are unfair to Aoi and she react by closing her heart so no one can hurt her. People are unfair to Akane, making him do annoying work without giving him anything in return, and he reacts by loudly acknowledging people are being unfair instead of bottling up any discomfort, and trying his best anyways instead of running away, keeping his heart open and wearing his emotions and feelings on his sleeves. 

Akane doesn’t care about others opinion of him, he’ll swing his bat like a crazy person at school and be rude as fuck to people he just met, but he help other because he wants to help, he is a nice person.

In comparison to Akane, Aoi feels selfish, cruel, and cold. She only ever cares and worries about her close friends because their opinions matter to her.

Akane is someone even she, with all her walls, can’t help but love. And since she is the oppose of him... Is easy to come to the conclusion she is unlovable. She may not care about a stranger calling her a slut, but she can see people don’t like her. Again and again, people always find some problem with her.

She hates herself too, so she is convinced even the people that claim they love her don’t care about her, they just love the sweet personality they come up with after seeing her pretty face, and they’ll hate her when they realize there is more to her than a cutesy smile.

She is unlovable by design, so she assumes the only reason her friends don’t hate her yet, is because they don’t know her true self.

The “cute, sweet, and friendly, popular girl with a pretty face!” is loved. She is Nene’s best friend, the girl all the guys want and all the girls envy.

But Aoi? The arrogant and distant coward that is scared of caring too much? She isn’t loved by anyone. She is sure she will be rejected if she act honest, so she doesn’t even try.

Her life was never a “perfect life”. 

Aoi is either by Nene's or Akane’s side. She isn’t close to anyone else.

The manga is in Nene’s point of view so her situation is narrated through rose tinted glasses: Nene lives in a fantasy world where Aoi’s life is perfect since being popular is Nene’s dream, so Aoi’s popular life must be amazing! Right?

Nene can’t break this view. Even when the truth stares her in the face. She does not change her view.

Aoi was a wreck when she tried to apologize, but she does regret trying to kill Nene, she wants to apologize, so she tries her best to get out of her comfort zone and face her biggest fears for Nene: She is willing to have a confrontation instead of hiding

Instead of asking Aoi how she feel, or making any questions about her behavior, Nene immediately dismissed all of Aoi’s actions. Nene doesn’t want to deal with Aoi’s problems, she just wants her popular bubbly friend back.

Their hug in chapter 96 means Nene embraced the “popular girl bff with a pretty face” and rejected Aoi. 

Aoi is hurt by this, but she is a coward, so she accepts it, pretending nothing happened. (I go into more detail about Nene’s views, and why Aoi doesn’t open up: Here.)

Despite all her flaws, Aoi is not nearly as bad as she sees herself as, she is mostly insecure, desperate to be loved even when she feel like she doesn’t particularly deserve it. 

She is harsh on herself, wanting to keep all her emotions under tight control, but she is sweet to her friends, she genuinely loves them and tries to fight her bad habits. She wants them to be happy! 

She’ll get invested in topics she doesn’t personally care about, because she knows Nene likes it, and worry about Akane’s health for the simple reason that she cares, she wants the best for them.

Her sweet side clashes with her bad habit to always assume the worst.

Despite being a sweet girl at heart, caring about others is still very painful. It does not come easy for Aoi, who has trained herself to be isolated from her peers.

She wants her friends to look at her, she wants to be important and be reassured she is loved! But even when she is shown love, she doesn’t believe in it

She convinced herself they don’t care about her, just like all these strangers don’t care about her. And she is arrogant enough to believe she is always right, so if she can’t see this ‘wonderful girl’ Akane sees, it just means Akane is the wrong one. That this isn’t her insecurities talking, Akane is the one lying, he is the one that doesn’t truly love her. 

 Aoi believes she has misled him just like she had misled Nene, and she wants to talk about it, she wants to be honest, she is so tired of hiding her flaws! But she is too scared to risk losing the love she is given so she will keep hiding, she’ll keep lying to herself that it doesn’t matter, as she has done since she was a small child.

All the things that she claims to hate about Akane, the things that make her feel envious, and lacking in comparison, are also what she wishes she had, things she genuinely admires about him. Things that make him so special and “easy to love” in her eyes.

The idea Akane isn’t lovable does not compute to her. She never says “he is not my type” even when she is neck deep in denial because to Aoi, only an idiot wouldn’t see how lovable Akane is, and Aoi is too arrogant to lower herself to the level of an idiot.

She adores him so much that even when she believes the “cute humble and popular Aoi” is the only Aoi he’ll ever love, she can’t let go. She keeps him at arm's length to not get too attached, but she can’t bring herself to truly run away, to reject him point blank.

She wants him after all, when we get a glimpse of her alone with her defenses down, she melts just from watching him work hard.

She wants them to be closer (unrelated but I can’t get over how she went “watching Akane from my window isn’t enough, let me lean on my balcony, so we are closer.”)

She wants them to be side by side. She wants to accept his confessions. But she is too scared to admit even to herself that she is smitten.

Opening up is hard for her after all, and admitting he cares about him so much? That’s terrifying. 

So she runs. 

Because if Akane gets too close he might see her flaws, and if her “unlovable self” make him stop loving her, if her flaws make him leave her, she will crumble.

When her usual defense of “I don’t care, you can’t hurt me!” isn’t effective, her second one is to distance herself from what is hurting her so she has some ‘control’ of the situation.

The drug no.6 gave her may have lowered her empathy, but “discarding people so they can’t hurt her” and “running far far away” has always been an itch she had. She always dismisses any stranger from her life, because she doesn't need them. She always runs away when she is hurt.

Is a desire born from the ugliest, most selfish, and insecure parts of her heart, something her kinder and friendlier side never allowed her to act on. But it is a part of her, the one she hates: this is the “unlovable Aoi” to the extreme, fully out.

Is a part she constantly tries to hide, but is always there, as important to her character as her kindness. A part of her that is resentful of the world and wants to stop caring altogether, to hide and hide forever, make it so only she can hurt herself.

She assumes if Nene asks Akane out he’ll accept, despite how much Akane only focuses on her, so she spends a week without going to school to spare herself the pain.

She accepts Akane “have been lying and secretly still likes Lemon” right away because of a silly ghost game, going straight into depressive mode and running away from the pain.

She genuinely wants Akane to be happy, and while she wants him to be happy with her, she hates her possessive nature, using her usual defense mechanism and trying to convince herself she doesn’t care about him, that he is disposable.

She doesn’t want to hurt anyone but she is arrogant, so she doesn’t protest or do anything to show she likes Akane (even when its obvious), going “I hope you’re happy” and running before she says what she really wants and ‘ruin their fun’ and ‘give her feelings away’.

She wants control over the situation: To leave before others ‘inevitably’ leave her. And Akane knows.

But he genuinely like her for who she is, he know how sensitive she is under her smile, so he always run after her to calm her down.

Akane is her biggest weakness and Aoi despises feeling weak and out of control. So her crush on him is a two edge sword.

She genuinely believed Akane doesn’t love her real self, but she also used it as an excuse to have control over her crush, to justify her lack of courage to pursue a relationship. 

She is still the same scared kid that cried when Akane said he hates her and got mad at herself for crying about it.

She is too arrogant to admit Akane has control over her feelings even when her composure is shattered.

Part of her genuinely doesn’t want to care, she wants to raise her walls and keep Akane away so he can’t hurt her! That is why she stabbed him and tried to throw him away in the first place.

She tries so hard to use her usual “I don’t care about you, so your opinion can’t hurt me” strategy with him, it's frustrating that it doesn’t work. 

She is a flustered mess by the point Akane start gushing about a flaw she hates so much and makes her life difficult.

The reason she is uncomfortable with Akane is because she is uncomfortable when she can’t control her emotions. And Akane? He could make her blush even when his approach was so tactless she dissociated from his shower of  neverending compliments, so this assertive approach, practically forcing Aoi to accept that he likes her for who she is and that she can’t run away from his love no matter how hard she tries, it’s as much of a dream (she always wanted to be loved fully) as it is a nightmare (he is too direct! He does not give this poor coward a break!!).

He doesn’t allow her any escape. He is taking her far far away from her comfort zone. Her panic is completely and utterly genuine. Help her cause she does not know what to do.

She isn’t able to give him a verbal answer when Akane asks “Do you like me, even just a little bit?” but Akane never expected an answer.

He only acted so bold in the first place (holding her and kissing her neck) because at this point, he already knows she loves him.

Aoi doesn’t deny his claim, she doesn’t use meaningless excuses like “We can’t marry because that would make me Aoi Aoi” , she just... cling to him, holding on.

Only after she hugs him back (which is a silent “I love you too” in this context) does Akane go for the kiss.

Let's compare when Akane tries to kiss her to a similar scene where she is genuinely uncomfortable so I can show you she is more nervous and flustered by his advances than truly scared or uneasy.

In chapter 24 Hanako possessed Nene and tried to ‘seduce’ Aoi. Aoi had no idea supernaturals exist at the time, and she even goes “Nene-chan...?” to show she fully believes this is Nene, not some ghost possessing her friend. 

There is a lot of focus on Nene’s reaction, an attempt to make it comedic, but Aoi is extremely uncomfortable with this forceful behavior.

Aoi likes Nene, Nene is one of the two people she considers a friend, but she hated this: She is sweating, there isn’t even a hint of blush on her face, and she keep her hands far away, having her back on a wall. She likes to hold hands with Nene, comfortable being touchy with her friend, but in this situation, her instinct is to lean away. She doesn’t want it. She is uneasy.

Now let's go back to chapter 69. There are a lot of similarities, both Hanako (who she assume is Nene) and Akane hold her chin before trying to kiss her and both have her backed into a wall. Akane should arguably be worst cause she hasn’t been touchy with him in years while she is constantly holding Nene’s hand, but not only does Aoi blush, she doesn’t try to run from her feelings like usual, she reaches for him, holding on to his jacket.

She isn’t confident, she is sweating and shocked, (which makes sense considering how chaotic her night have been) but there is light in her eyes: She is scared, but she wants to kiss him too.

She have craved to be closer to Akane for ages but this talk didn’t magically heal her issues, no matter how much she dislikes this part of her, she is still an arrogant coward at heart: This kiss is hard for her. Any sort of intimacy is. It goes agaist her instinct to hide and sabotage herself.

That’s why she always blushes��hard and gets extremely nervous with Akane when he gets too close. Even when what he is doing isn’t forceful, it feels overwhelming to Aoi.

She needs to hold back the urge to run. She needs to fight the urge to think about the worst and trust him, allow Akane to have sway over her emotions.

She still have a long way to go, and I’m rooting for her.

[folkwhorerain]

Just like clockwork.

Sam Carpenter x afab!Reader

gif not mine.

summary: Sam proves you that you don't have to face everything alone.

warnings: description of PMDD symptoms, depression, mood swings, insecure reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, bad writing (english is not my first language). Feel free to tell me if I should add more!

(Maybe a little out of character for Sam, but I needed to write this for my own benefit.)

author's note: I got diagnosed with premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) two weeks ago and I did not take it well at all. I just had another PMDD episode and it was really bad, so I wanted to write something to get it out my chest and since Sam is my current comfort character I wanted to write a ff about her comforting reader.

Please remember that this is based on my experience with this disorder and I do not intend to make anyone feel uncomfortable.

Enjoy!

It hit you suddenly.

You were fine days ago until you weren't.

It intoxicated your brain without you noticing. You just thought you were being overdramatic as always but, like it happened almost every month just like clockwork, your mind proved you wrong.

It started with a numb sensation on your legs and an inexplicable fatigue, after a few days you started sleeping excessively and leaving the bed was more and more difficult everytime the blanket rocked you in its embrace.

Next you began feeling that heaviness inside your chest that haunted you just six or five days before your menstruation started. Again, just like clockwork. It doesn't happen every, single month but when it does, it's tough dealing with all the symptoms that accompany it.

"Shit." You whispered at the realisation that your PMDD was at its peak again. You will never get used to it. Everytime your period passed you mentally mocked at how much you overreacted, gaslighting yourself into believing that you were just being dramatic and that your disorder wasn't real, which it was actually. It was very real. You just needed to get into the next wave of depression to realise it, just to curse yourself for being so dramatic when your period passed again. It was a cycle you couldn't break.

As it always happened during these excruciating days, you were lying in bed with a urge to cry and a fatigue that came out of nowhere. You knew your symptoms would disappear as soon as your period started, but right now you just let yourself go at the inevitable sensations your disorder provoked you.

Your friends noticed you were detached from them and everytime they would offer you to spend time together or watch a movie, you would always refuse, taking a snack from the kitchen and heading immediately to your room, leaving your friends with a confused look.

You weren't ready for people to know about your disorder, so you only told your favorite sisters and Quinn since she's so nosy that she eventually figured out something was wrong.

"Is Y/N okay?" Chad asked with a hint of concerne in his voice and Tara attached to his sleeve. "She hasn't come out of her room for the past two days."

"I hope it has nothing to do with us," Mindy joked with her mouth full of food. Anika was at her side, stealing some chips from her girlfriend, who was too busy looking at Sam for some sort of explanation to notice. "We're good company, so that would offend me."

Tara looked at Sam with a knowing look. Her face held the same concern as the rest of the group and it only worsened when Sam stayed quiet, too lost looking at the calendar app.

Like the good girlfriend she is, she tracked your period just in case you needed extra help with your PMDD, so when the phone in her hands gave her the confirmation you were about to get your period, she immediately knew what was wrong and it almost annoyed her you didn't tell her like you promised to.

You were never one to ask for help or even talk about your feelings. You would rather walk on lava than saying something was bothering you, and Sam understood that. She was never open about her feelings herself and just suck them up until they didn't bother her anymore or she learnt to live with them. But when it comes to you and your health, it's different so she stood up from the couch of the apartment you, Quinn, Tara and Sam shared and walked towards her room which was now yours as well since Quinn moved in with you and took your old room. Not that you spent a lot of time in it anyway. You were always with Sam and most of your stuff was already in her room anyways.

"Y/N?" You heard Sam crack open the door and slowly walk towards the bed. You had your back to her, body fully covered by your weighted blanket. You stayed still. Hopefully she wouldn't hear you cry and just leave you be.

When you didn't answer the brunette thought you were asleep and contemplated if leaving was the best decision, but when she heard a sob escape your mouth (much to your dismay), she climbed into the bed and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, it's that bad again, isn't it?" She asked sympathetically as she stroked your back slowly. Her heart sank knowing you were feeling like this again and you decided to deal with it all alone.

You turned to look at her with red, puffy eyes. It took you a while to nod your head yes, not wanting to bother her with something that was only your problem and would probably just drag her into your spiral of sadness. But hiding was no use, it was clear as the sun that you were feeling shitty. "I wanna be alone, though."

Sam sighed quitely and squeezed your shoulder. "Don't push me away, Y/N, please. I'm not leaving you. I just wanna help."

You usually loved how she knew you like the palm of her hand, but as of right now it just annoyed you and it took all the strength you had in your already aching body to not snap at her. Therefore you took a deep breath and gave yourself some time before saying something you would regret. You weren't even angry at Sam. You didn't know what you were so angry about. You just were. You always felt like you were on the verge of exploding.

"I just–" you couldn't finish your sentence as you covered your eyes with both your hands and let out an annoyed groan.

Sam frowned sympathetically, both of her hands gripping gently your wrists in an attempt to not let you hide your feelings from her, no matter how bad they were. But you were persistent and there was no way you would've let her see you this way, so your hands didn't move. Not even a inch.

Sam took a deep, shaky breath as she thought about what could make you feel better. Keeping her composure was hard in a situation like this, but she knew it wasn't easy for you first. After all, it was you who had to deal with it in the first place.

You uncovered your eyes when you felt the weight on the bed was gone and your girlfriend had disappeared.

You pouted and tears started streaming down your face again, both from sadness and anger towards yourself. You couldn't believe you felt sad she left when you were the one who told her to leave you alone in the first place.

"Why do I have to be like this?" You whispered as you pulled yourself up and sit on the bed, throwing your phone on the bedside with too much force.

You hated it. You couldn't believe you had to feel like this because of something so… natural. Periods should be associated with life and birth. Hell, in some historic culture a menstruating person was considered sacred, you couldn't believe you had to deal with it in such a painful way.

You can't even say you couldn't wait for your period to start, because once you start bleeding, your ovaries feels like they're being stabbed over and over again.

Mentally excruciating PMS and painful menstruation. Great combo.

After a few minutes you heard the door open again and your girlfriend was standing there with a tiny smile and a glass of water accompanied by some snacks in her hands.

Your gaze softened at the sight and you wondered how could someone like you ever deserve someone as caring as Sam Carpenter.

"I know you forgot to take your meds, so here…" She cooed as she gave you the glass and your pills, which you gladly took but not before smiling appreciatively at the brunette. "I understand you want to be left alone and I accept it, but I just want to be with you throughout all of this. Please, let me take care of you."

"Sam–"

"We don't have to talk. We can just stay here and exist together." She was standing in front of you with a hopeful expression, waiting for you to give her permission to stay.

You took a few moments to think about it and meanwhile you got lost in the sight before you.

She had bags under eyes due to the tiredness two shitty jobs can give you and her usual jeans and sweater were replaced with pajama shorts and a blue tank top you were sure she stole from you. You loved how her black locks were styled perfectly even after a six hour shift and her dark eyes glistened with hope.

You must look like shit compared to her, not having the strength to comb your hair or eat a proper meal. You were even surprised you menaged to take a shower and brush your teeth. You'd probably look at yourself with disgust if you had a mirror in front of you. No way someone else would look at you differently.

Yet there she was, still looking at you like you were her whole world and when she looked at you like that it was almost impossible to say no to her, so you smiled weakly and patted the place beside you on the bed.

She smiled widely before she sank into the bed, covering her body with your favorite blanket. "Do you want me to hug you or you don't feel comfortable being touched?"

You suddenly felt a urge to be comforted and held, so you took this opportunity before you felt the need to be alone again and welcomed her in your arms. She wrapped her arms around your body, legs now entangled with yours. Her left hand wiped away your tears and the other stroked your arm slowly.

Guilt made its way through your body and that painful weight in your chest became heavier.

You hated yourself for being such a burden.

You didn't want people to deal with you when you were at you lowest. If you could, you wouldn't even deal with it yourself. But it was your mind and body, so ignoring its needs was not an option. But your friends and family had the opportunity to leave, to tell you to fuck yourself when you'd yell at them without an apparent reason, yet they didn't. Even when you pushed them away just like you did an hour ago and they decided to spend time together anyway. Of course that made you silently sob as you saw they could live without you.

It wasn't fair to think like that, you knew. But it wasn't you who had control of your mind when your depression was at its peak, it was your disorder and you could not disobey its will. No matter how much it hurt you.

"I'm so pathetic." You whispered with eyes full of tears again. Your thoughts were the worst part of these episodes. The voices telling you that you're not enough were persevering and it was hard to not listen to them. "I'm sorry you have to endure all of my shit. I would leave if I was you."

"That's not true, Y/N. You know you don't really think that." She whispered softly, placing sweet kisses on the crown of your head. "You're not pathetic for feeling this way. You didn't choose it."

You stayed silent, feeling paralyzed. The only thing you did was hug her tightly and stroke her hip affectionately.

Sometimes it scares you how much she knows you and how you think.

"I'm here no matter what. You are not your disorder. I knew there were gonna be ups and downs when I chose you, but just like you knew it when you chose me." She stopped talking just to give a few kisses on your neck, easing a little bit of the tension you felt. "If we gotta be honest, I'm the daughter of a serial killer who almost got herself and her friends killed just because of that. If there's someone who should leave, that's you."

A weak chuckle escaped your mouth at that last phrase. You weren't gonna leave her for that. Hell, you would rather be attacked by Ghostface than leave your girlfriend.

It didn't matter what Sam did or who she was. You knew the real her and you thanked the universe everyday for being able to see parts of her she hardly showed to anyone else.

You knew how hard it was for her after Richie turned out to be Ghostface and she decided to move to a city where people saw him like the victim and her like the villain.

Trusting new people wasn't an option for her and you were no exception when you responded to the anonymous ad of when her and Tara were looking for a roommate.

The first time you met her it almost looked like you were being interrogated, but when you left aside the thought of how pretty she was and you recognised her as one of the survivors of the Woodsboro attack, you understood why.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt her lips on your shoulder, and when you turned your head slightly to look at her, you saw she was already staring at you with a glint in her eyes she reserved just for you. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

She bit your shoulder playfully at your comment making you crack a smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too Sam." And with that she gave the palm of your hand a kiss, next she shifted to your neck, your jaw and finally your lips.

You couldn't help but smile as you tried to ignore the heaviness you still felt in your chest.

It was hard dealing with you when you felt like this but, everytime you needed, Sam was there.

Just like clockwork.

That's all, people!

As usual, I hope you liked it.🫶🏻

If your PMS is so bad that it effects your daily activities, please talk to your doctor about it. It may be sign of PMDD or other premenstrual disorders.

Remember you are not alone and I'm always here if you need to talk.

I love you all. <3

[heli-writes]

A marriage of convenience, part 4: the honeymoon.

Pairing: Yoriichi x you

Summary: Yoriichi's friends think that Yoriichi is too lonely and needs a wife and family to take care of him. They propose a marriage of convenience to a woman who's in need of a husband. The arrangement of the marriage is simple: both parties live their lives as before, y/n takes care of Yoriichi as a wife and Yoriichi keeps unwanted men (and demons) away. Love is not required, friendship is appreciated. However, how detached can one be when living so close to each other?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Series Masterlist

*~*~*~*~*

It's a special day for Yoriichi today. The Kamado family promised to visit today. It's the first time he and (y/n) have acquaintances over. He noticed that (y/n) is somewhat anxious about it. She did her best in preparing food and cleaning the house. It's clear that she wants to make a good impression on his friends.

The Kamados arrive around midday. Yoriichi, (y/n) and (y/s/n) greet them at the door and invite them into the modest house. (Y/n) starts to serve lunch and the rest settles around the small table. It's almost too small for everyone. Maybe we need to get a bigger table, Yoriichi thinks to himself. "So, Yoriichi, have you and (y/n) settled? It must've been quite the change for the both of you.", Sumiyoshi initiates a conversation. "Yes, it was, but we get along fine.", Yoriichi answers the unspoken question by his friend. Sumiyoshi nods content. "That's good to hear.", he decides. At that moment (y/n) brings over the last plates and takes a seat next to Yoriichi. They wish each other a good meal and start eating. Sumiyoshi compliments (y/n)'s cooking and she thanks him with a red tint on her cheeks.

"So, (y/n), we've heard that you have your own business? That must be quite a lot of work.", Suyako asks (Y/n). (Y/n) nods and replies: "Sometimes it is. But it's work I love, so most of the time it doesn't feel like work at all." "That's the best kind of work. It means you've found your calling.", Sumiyoshi points out happily. (Y/n) nods smiling. "Actually, the art of healing runs in my family. My mother taught me as her mother taught her.", (y/n) explains. "So, it's a family business?", Suyako asks. "Well, it's just me these days. But our knowledge has been passed down and expanded over generations.", (y/n) answers. Sumiyoshi nods approvingly. "It's reassuring for us to know that someone with your abilities lives together with Yoriichi. In his line of work, you never know when one comes home hurt.", he states. "I understand what you mean. I worry about this too. But so far Yoriichi hasn't come out with even a scratch.", (y/n) notes. Yoriichi clears his throat and joins the conversation: "I wouldn't want to be a burden to you." (Y/n) puts a hand on his arm that rests on the table. "You could never be a burden.", she exclaims, "You know, Yoriichi really is a low-maintenance man. He never asks for anything or complains.". Yoriichi notices how Sumiyoshi and Suyako exchange glances after seeing (y/n)'s hand on his arm. He pulls his arm away in embarrassment.

"Oh, we totally forgot to ask! How was your honeymoon?", Suyako suddenly exclaims excitedly. Sumiyoshi quickly pokes her with his elbow. Surely that's the last thing Yoriichi wants to talk about. However, when he looks into the perplexed faces of (y/n) and Yoriichi, he and his wife are flabbergasted. "Wait… you did have a honeymoon, right?", Suyaki asks. "Well…", (y/n) starts out. "We haven't had the time yet.", Yoriichi helps her out. At this moment, (y/s/n), who sits next to (y/n), grabs the sleeve of (y/n)'s kimono and points toward Sumire who is settled on her mother's lap. "Do you want to go play?", (y/n) asks the two children who nod in return. "Alright, you don't have to sit at the boring adult table. How about you play some games in the bedroom?", (y/n) says and gets up. She takes the two children to the bedroom, happily to escape the awkward honeymoon conversation.

After (y/n) is out of the room, Sumiyoshi and Suyaki turn to Yoriichi with an outraged expression on their faces. "You didn't take her on a honeymoon, Yoriichi?", Suyaki asks reproachfully. "There was no need for it.", Yoriichi answers calmly. "Of course, there is!", Sumiyoshi stresses, "Especially in your case." "I don't think I can follow. Honeymoons are for newlyweds in love.", Yoriichi states. "I mean, kind of yes," Sumiyoshi replies. "But it's also great to get to know the other person better. Considering you married a total stranger, it would be good to spend some time together and get to know her.", Suyaki explains. "I got to know her here as well.", Yoriichi tries to argue. "Oh really?", Suyaki says crossing her arms, "So what does (y/n) like to do for relaxation?" Yoriichi thinks for a moment. "Tending to her herb garden.", he concludes almost triumphantly. Sumiyoshi and Suyaki exchange appalled looks. "You mean her herb garden from which she makes her medicine that she then sells?", Suyaki says disapprovingly, "That's work, Yoriichi, not relaxation." Yoriichi presses his lips together in a small line. He hates to admit it but he actually has no idea what (y/n) does for relaxation or a hobby. "You see, Yoriichi, a getaway together is not a dumb idea. You'll live together with this woman, well, forever, I guess. You could at least make the effort to get to know her.", Suyaki concludes. Yoriichi stays silent, too embarrassed to admit that Suyaki is right. Sumiyoshi tries to lighten the mood and proposes: "Well, it's not too late for a honeymoon. Why don't you and (y/n) take off a few days? You could walk up to Mount Kameshima. Rent a room at the local village for a few days and enjoy the hot springs. What do you think?" Yoriichi is not happy about his friend's idea. "I'm not sure (y/s/n) would have a lot of fun. He's a really active child, you know…", he tries to worm his way out of this situation. Suyaki gives him a bittersweet smile. "That's not a problem. He can stay with us. That way you can really get to know your wife." Yoriichi looks at her defeatedly. Seems like there is no way out of this. Suyaki claps her hands together and stands. "Then it's decided. I am going to tell (y/n) about this.", she says. Sumiyoshi looks at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, my friend. Once my wife sets her mind to something, there's no going back."

*~*~*~*~*

The atmosphere is so thick one could cut it with a knife. (Y/n) and Yoriichi walk silently beside each other. After they dropped off (y/s/n) at the Kamados, they started their walk up to Mount Kameshima. Since the drop-off, they haven't really spoken to each other. (Y/n) tried to stir a conversation a few times but quickly noticed that Yoriichi wasn't in a good mood. It's clear to her that he's rather upset about the whole honeymoon idea. While they make their way up the mountain, (y/n) gets lost in her own thoughts. When Suyaki told her about the honeymoon, she was surprised but not opposed to it. She can't see what Yoriichi's problem is with this. The lines are drawn and it should be obvious that they won't be crossed at home or in a nice guest house at a hot spring. (Y/n) can't remember when the last time was that she had a day off. She loves (y/s/n) dearly, but being a mother also means always being on duty. She can't wait to hit the hot springs and relax for a couple of days. Suyaki was so nice and organized the whole thing for them. All Yoriichi and (y/n) had to do were pack their bags.

It will take them half a day to walk up to the local village. (Y/n) prepared some lunch boxes for both of them. Since it is their holiday, she even went all out and baked some cake with sweet icing. They only had a quick breakfast and they're already halfway there. (Y/n) starts to get tired and feels her stomach rumbling. "Hey Yoriichi,", she says almost out of breath, "Can we take a break somewhere soon?" Yoriichi still looks as fresh as when they started their walk but nods when he sees the slight layer of sweat on (y/n)'s forehead. "Great!", (y/n) beamed, "But I want to have lunch with a view! Let's see if we can get away from these trees so we can look onto the valley.". The two leave the path and walk for a while until they find a spot close to the edge of the mountain. They sit down beneath a tree and (y/n) takes out the lunch boxes. They start eating in silence. It's a nice day. It's warm and sunny but not too hot. (Y/n) closes her eyes for a moment and enjoys the cool breeze on her face and hair. She doesn't notice Yoriichi staring at her. Yoriichi clears his throat. "So, what do you wanna do the next days?", he asks her. (Y/n) crooks her head. "Hm, good question. I definitely want to soak in the hot springs! I've also heard that there are some caves around this area to which locals offer guided tours to.", she says. "Caves?", Yoriichi asks uncertainly. (Y/n) nods, "Yes. There's a creek that flows through a cave system. Part of it can be safely explored on small boats. It's a tourist attraction around here." "We can do that if you want to.", Yoriichi notes. (Y/n) smiles at him happily. Yoriichi starts to feel a bit bad. It's clear that (y/n) is excited about this trip and he would prefer to be anywhere else than here. "Is there anything you would like to do?", (y/n) asks him. Yoriichi shrugs, "Not really." (Y/n) expected this answer. "Well, we can also split up somewhen. You don't have to do all the things I would like to do.", she proposes. Yoriichi can't meet her eye at that. Clearly, she noticed that he doesn't want to spend time alone with her. "Hey", she nudges him, "Just because Suyaki calls this a honeymoon, it doesn't have to be one. For me, it's just a kid-free vacation. You won't have many of these in the future, so you should make sure that you enjoy it!". (Y/n) gives him a lopsided grin ad Yoriichi relaxes at that a bit. They finish their meal in peace and then continue their journey.

(Y/n) is exhausted by the time they arrive and even Yoriichi feels a bit tired. The guest house they are staying at is run by a nice elderly couple who have already been waiting for them when (Y/n) and Yoriichi make their appearance at their front door. Mrs. Nakamura shows them their way to the room. "This guest house is often booked by newlyweds. So I'm sure you will enjoy your stay.", she explains as they arrive at the door. "We also took care of your extra requests. If anything is missing, just tell us.", she says as she quickly disappears into the hallway. "Extra request?", (y/n) wonders out loud and Yoriichi only shrugs. When they enter their room, they quickly notice what Mrs. Nakamura meant. In the middle of the room lies a large two-person futon with rose petals on top which form a way to the front door. There's also a bottle of sake and some mochis on a table near the wall. "This must be Suyaki's work.", Yoriichi notes. "That's for sure.", (y/n) deadpans. She walks into the room and puts down some of her luggage. As she turns around to Yoriichi, she asks: "But she's aware of the circumstances of this marriage, right?" Yoriichi nods. "She is, but she's also a hopeless romantic.", he points out. "Or she likes teasing us. I'm sure we can ask Mrs. Nakamura for another Futon.", (y/n) says softly when she noticed how Yoriichi kept staring at the futon. He nods and says: "Right, let's do that.". "Like right now?", (y/n) asks. She hoped they could freshen up a little bit first. She's desperate to get out of the clothes she's wearing. "It's fine. I go, you can stay.", he says, as he turns for the door.

"I am really sorry for the inconvenience. Newlyweds usually take a futon like that.", Mrs. Nakamura apologizes after Yoriichi stated their case. Yoriichi shifts uncomfortably. It is usual. Indeed it is unusual for them, a married couple, to ask for separate futons. "You see," he tries to explain, "I didn't really know (y/n) before we got married.". Mrs. Nakamura gives him a knowing glance. "Oh, young man, don't worry about that. First time I saw my husband was at the altar and everything worked out fine.", she says reassuringly, "But it's very considerate of you. I will put a second futon in your room so you have a choice tonight." Yoriichi feels his cheeks burning up. Clearly, Mrs. Nakamura had the wrong idea why they didn't want to sleep in the same futon. He thanks her nevertheless and walks back to their room. Still deep in thought, he opens the door without knocking. He's face to face with (y/n) in an open kimono. Instantly, (y/n)'s face turns beet red. He quickly slams the door closed. Taking a deep breath, he leans against the door. He waits outside while (y/n) finishes changing. Eventually, she leaves the room. Her cheeks are still slightly red and she can't meet Yoriichi's eyes. "So, uhm, you want to change too?" she asks. "I'm ready to hit the hot springs.", she points out while holding a bag with a towel. Yoriichi nods and quickly changes behind the closed door as well. When he's done, they walk to the nearby hot springs. Yoriichi's glad that the hot spring is divided into an area for men and one for women. He doesn't think he could handle a mixed bath after what just happened.

After they've soaked in the springs for a while, both of them leave the bathhouse a lot more relaxed than before. By then, it's already early evening. "Wanna take a stroll and then look for a place to eat?", (y/n) proposes. "Sure.", Yoriichi agrees. They walk through the village for a bit. They eventually find the market square. (Y/n) asks a local when the next market will be. The woman explains to her that the next day there will be a normal market in the morning and in the afternoon, there will be a handcraft market. (Y/n) thanks her and walks back to Yoriichi. He sees her eyes glistening excitingly. It's clear she's excited about the news. "Would you like to go to the handcraft market tomorrow?", he asks her. (Y/n) nods vigorously. "Absolutely!", she exclaims a bit too loud. "But you don't have to tag along.", she quickly adds. "It's fine. After all, I asked you.", Yoriichi answers. Also, it's not like he has anything else to do. "Great.", (y/n) smiles, "Then let's find a place to eat."

After a good meal, the two of them arrive back at the guest house. They take turns in the bathroom and get ready for bed. While (y/n) is in the bathroom, Yoriichi rolls out the second futon and sits on top of it. "Are you already tired?", (y/n) asks Yoriichi after she enters the bedroom in her sleepwear. Not really, Yoriichi thinks. After all, he's used to staying up late into the night chasing demons. However, he also doesn't know what else to do with (y/n), so he just gives her a shrug. (Y/n) pulls out a deck of cards. Yoriichi doesn't recognize the design of the cards. "My sister got this for me during her travels abroad.", (y/n) explains, "Do you want to play? I can teach you some games." Yoriichi gives her a nod and (y/n) starts shuffling the cards. (Y/n) teaches Yoriichi a variety of games. It turns out that he's terrible at a game called Cheat which (y/n) finds especially amusing since she manages to sniff out his lies despite his never changing facial expression. Yoriichi beats her a couple of times at a game called Rummy. At that, (y/n) mumbles something about a blind chicken which Yoriichi doesn't get but also doesn't ask about. Eventually, it gets late enough to go to bed and the two settle in their respective futons.

They lay facing one another but it's dark enough that they can't see each other's faces. Yoriichi can't fall asleep and according to (y/n)'s breathing pattern, she's not asleep either. "Hey, Yoriichi?", (y/n) asks into the dark. "Yes?", she hears somewhere next to her. "Is it really okay for you to be on this trip to me?", she asks him. Yoriichi knows there is only one right answer to this question, but he doesn't want to lie to her. "I don't feel comfortable."; he tells her truthfully. (Y/n) knew this, of course, but hearing it from him still stings. She turns away from him and stares at the pitch-black ceiling. "I'm sorry Suyaki made us do this.", she says. She hears Yoriichi shifting in his futon. "She meant well," he replies, "I'm sorry that I'm not as excited as you. I'm ruining the mood for you." (Y/n) has to smile at that. Yoriichi doesn't let it on, but he actually cares a lot about other people's feelings. "Is there anything I can do to make it more comfortable for you?", she asks him. Even though (y/n) can't see him, he shakes his head. "No, this is in my head. Nothing you can do about it.", he answers her. (Y/n)'s silent for a while. "You know," she says quietly, "I had a whole honeymoon planned out. Everything was already booked and paid for. I was more excited about the honeymoon than the actual wedding. The wedding was for the others, our family and friends, but the honeymoon… that was supposed to be just for us." (Y/n)'s voice sounds less steady at the end and Yoriichi feels his heart sink. How selfish of him, he thinks, of course, she's hurting too. The whole day he was all gloomy thinking about how he shouldn't go on a vacation like this with any other woman than Uta. He turns his head in her direction. "How do you do it?", he asks her. "Do what?", she replies. "How can you be so happy about this vacation? How can you think about anything else but him?", he clarifies. (Y/n)'s stunned at that for a moment. With a stoic man like Yoriichi, it is easy to forget that he can feel this deeply. "This is not a honeymoon for me. It can't be. If I would entertain that thought, I couldn't be like this.", she says into the dark. Yoriichi can feel his eyes burn. "Will this ever get better?". Yoriichi doesn't notice that he says this out loud. (Y/n) turns back to him. "I'm not sure I even want that", she tells him, "Wouldn't that mean we're forgetting?". Yoriichi doesn't trust his voice, so he only shrugs. "I don't want to forget", (y/n) concludes. "You shouldn't hurt so bad though.", Yoriichi states quietly, "I wouldn't want that." (Y/n) has to smile at that. Yoriichi really is a sweetheart. She reaches out for him with her hand. After some searching, she finds his face. She gently wipes the quiet tears away she knew that would be there. "I don't want that for you either.", she says. Yoriichi touches her hand and squeezes it lightly. "Hey, how about this? Let's make this arrangement about not forgetting but stopping hurting.", she proposes. "That sounds like a good idea.", he replies. (Y/n) pinches his cheek. "Then let's start tomorrow. Let's think about them and have a good day.", she says. "Okay.", Yoriichi whispers. (Y/n) pulls her hand away. "Good night, Yoriichi", (y/n) whispers back, "I hope you dream about her."

[joelsgirl]

May I make a request? Of Din Djarin and reader. Where what if the reader and him are in a secret relationship being that only the cult and greef karga know they are together. Anyways what if reader gets jealous by how close bo and din are getting and she gets insecure because she feels like Din could do better than her and she believe that grogu and Din need someone like bo so she ignores din and when he finds out why? Maybe from Bo who noticed the jealousy then he spends all night heheheh smut ensues showing her how much she means to him and how he worships her?

Muse: Din Djarin Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, Jealousy, Worship Kink, Praise Kink, Beskar Collar, Fingering with His Gloves On, Use of Daddy, Hand on Throat (not choking), Use of Wife, Squirting, Claimed Reader, Keeping the Armor On, Daddy!Kink, Rough Sex, No Use of Y/N A/N: This uh... this got away from me a bit...I had to physically stop myself from going any further haha. Set post s3 finale in his gorgeous home. He has the crest, the star fighter and his house. + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here!

You can't help but notice the way they talk with each other, the tilt of their helmets as they communicate; sometimes in ways unspoken. It's isolating, made worse by the fact that you can't talk freely about your relationships.

Perhaps that's the issue, the beskar collar you wear, hidden when away from the covert, feeling all too heavy around your neck. Like it doesn't belong, like you don't belong. You hate the way you can't seem to push that fear aside, that he belongs with her...

You're so lost in your head you don't hear him come home, the subtle shift of his armor barely audible. He doesn't mean to move so quietly all the time, it just happens, habit.

You're wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, long sleeved to abate the chill in the air; or maybe that's just your heart breaking... and that collar he gave you. Your back to him as you fuss over the covers on the bed you both share.

Greef had gifted him this home, and somewhere along the line, it had become yours, too. He seemed to like that you were here; but he seemed to like Bo, too so what did you know?

Shaking your head, you try to snap out of this spiral; it doesn't help that he's so damns stoic all the time. You never know what he's thinking, but you've been like this for days now, feeling more and more detached as you watch them from afar.

Gloved hands slide down your waist, his ghost of a presence suddenly all consuming as you feel his chest press hard against your back. He's not wearing the helmet, you can tell without even needing to look back over your shoulder... but the rest of him his clad in full armor. You secretly love it when he has it on... Always were a sucker for a man in uniform.

Biting your lower lip, you fight back the swell of emotion as you try to push thoughts of him with Bo out of your head, struggling with the feeling that perhaps he deserves better than you; a lowly mechanic he picked up from another planet. "Do you know what this means?" His lips press against your throat as a hand raises to trace a line along the beskar collar.

You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes.

"It means that you're my wife." You blink, trying to understand... it couldn't, could it? He gave it to you so casually... "It's custom in my religion; we don't do rings or fancy ceremonies, but this collar, it means you're mine, means I don't want anybody but you, baby." You can feel his cock hardening against your ass, so big and thick, it still intimidates you slightly. "But... I don't understand... what's-"

You want to ask him why he's telling you this, where this is all coming from, but the hand tracing your collar now locks around your throat, tilting your head back towards him as he kisses you hard. The passion he always gave you right there, so present in the kiss and the tight squeeze of his hand.

His other hand slides down your waist, slipping down over your navel and in between your thighs. He growls in approval at the discovery of your lack of panties. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you baby?" You can't help but moan at his words, letting them wash over you as your eyes flutter closed.

The rough fabric of his gloves adding to the friction as he finds your sensitive clit, rubbing tight little circles. "My beautiful wife, you don't need to worry... there isn't anyone else for me; it's just business." He says the word business but he means war, he means battle plans, means all the other terrifying things he tries to shield you from... but ultimately, it's nothing, purely platonic.

You on the other hand? "Can't you feel what you do to me, baby? How much I need you.."

You can't help but feel your chest swell, your back arching for him as his words of praise fill you with a sense of pride. Moans falling freely from the way he's teasing you. Three fingers find your tight little cunt, pressing in deep as his palm continues to grind against your clit. The gloves making him thicker, so big you wonder how you always manage to take it.

You grind against his hand, loving the way the fist on your throat tightens just a little bit more, causing your back to arch and press you against him so he's deeper inside you. Your worries slowly melting away as you lose yourself to him, to what he's doing to you. "That's a good girl, taking me so well, baby... love you so much." He groans, never hiding his own need for you. Fucking you hard, fingers grinding back and forth in your cunt as he hits that spot every damn time.

"Gonna fuck you all night, show you exactly what you mean to me, wife."

You know he means it, can feel the threat against your ass, achingly hard now as he rolls his hips against you almost lazily, a constant reminder of how much you turn him on. "You going to cum for me, sweet girl?"

He can feel your walls tightening around his fingers, can feel your orgasm building as he fucks you faster, his palm a relentless grind against your overstimulated clit. You can barely speak, hardly thing as your moans fill the room. "Yes, daddy... going to... oh god!" Your thighs tremble as you gush all over his hand, soaking his gloves. He never seems to mind. He doesn't stop, though, keeps going, riding the orgasm out with you. "Want you to do that again, baby, cum for me... such a good girl."

You know he likes doing this to you, making you cum over and over, until you're a mess, a shell of what you were before he started. He'd always have to pick you up and put you to bed when he's done with you and he would; cares for you like nothing you've ever known. Would hold you while you slept, the reassurance from the warmth and strength of his body caging you the only reminder that love is real.

You lose track of how many times he makes you cum like that, four? five? more? You couldn't say, but by the end of it, that hand around your throat and the fingers in your cunt are the only two things keeping you standing. Your knees gave out long ago.

Gushing over his hand, your juices dripping down your thighs as he focuses entirely on you. On giving you what you want, what you need, until you're damn near insane with desperation for him. He'd paused at some point, long enough to free his thick cock and let it slide between your ass cheeks, grinding against you to give himself some friction as well.

You're just about to cum again, eyes rolling back as you feel the pleasure build. "Daddy, I can't, it's too much..." It's not, and you both know it; you're just so overstimulated the orgasms are coming faster and harder than before. "Doing so well for me baby girl, just like that, keep going... love when you cum for me, so pretty aren't you?" His praise always gets you, making you weaker than anything his sinful fingers could do. The next orgasm rolling over you in waves as you convulse against him.

"Yes, baby, that's it, knew you could do it... so proud of you, wife."

You're at the peak of your orgasm when his huge cock presses against your cunt, his fingers slipping out to swat at your swollen clit as he slams home. Replacing one thickness with another. You always forget how big he his, sheer strength the only reason he can bury himself to the hilt in your tiny hole. He's so big compared to you, so overwhelming as he towers over you. The force of his thrust lifting you off the ground, your toes barely scraping the floor as he holds you up.

"Knew you could take it, made for my cock, aren't you baby? Look at you, such a good girl for me. Taking my cock so fucking well." God, you loved it when he got like this, running his mouth as he fucked you. Made you feel so good, so wanted. That hard shell exterior he always wore dissolving as the real him came out, that need and yearning never hidden.

He fucked you hard, slamming into your cunt in a brutal pace, the thrusts so intense you felt like your bones were breaking and you begged him for more. Pleas falling freely from your lips as he slapped your clit again. You could feel another orgasm threatening to crash over you, and he knew it. Could feel your walls milking his cock as he fucks you harder, encouraging you.

"That's it, babygirl, let go for me, I've got you, cum on my cock... Going to show you just how much I love you. Going to be a long night for you..."