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chronically-ghosted · 2 months

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rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without – Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come. OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!

*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*

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Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits.

Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang.

He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle.

And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on.

Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –

Her.

He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.

He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights.

His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will.

It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor.

Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.

So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him.

What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down.

“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”

“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.

“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”

The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window.

“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”

He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.”

The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world.

All in the time in the world – for what?

To fail? Again?

He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell.

Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:

“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?”

Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –

“It’s unlocked, Pero.”

His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men.

And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again.

But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet.

Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable.

“Yes?”

A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.

But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare.

“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”

Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again.

“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.”

He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword.

There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.

“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm.

He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.”

You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.”

All the longer without you.

“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.”

You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.

“He finds them all beautiful.”

Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too.

This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight.

But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.

“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with.

It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?

“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”

He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.

“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”

The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand.

“You watched me dance?”

“All guardsmen were required to –,”

You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.”

Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm.

Sana, sana.

“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”

“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”

You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?

“Not even to . . . say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”

He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?”

There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.”

Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way?

“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.

“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.”

The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.

He bows to you.

“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”

The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.

He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart.

He gets to the door and pauses.

If you have nothing else to say . . .

Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.

Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–

Nothing comes through, but one single word.

“Don’t.”

The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.

“What did you say?”

A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar.

Fuck it.

He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.

“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.”

The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth.

He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel.

Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.

“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?”

“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”

Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?

You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last.

“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape.

"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."

That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you.

You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.

He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob.

“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.”

“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.

“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under.

“Pero, I –,”

“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.”

For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his.

The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.

There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar.

All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe.

“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.

A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.

"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on."

You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.

"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”

He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him.

“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised.

“Unless you don’t want –,”

The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places.

He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword.

A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress.

Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.

Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed.

You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him.

His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh.

Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor.

“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.”

He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both.

“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips.

This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.

Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils.

That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”

“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.

The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.

“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”

He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”

His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm.

“Oh, oh, Pero—,”

With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand.

“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.”

The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body.

“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing.

“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress.

“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.

With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace.

He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs.

But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.

When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear.

“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth.

Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough.

With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly.

“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving.

His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.

“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”

His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire.

Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets.

With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again.

“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”

The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.

Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care.

Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter.

The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.

Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.”

You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest.

“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.”

“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.”

You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.”

His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more.

“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss.

“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”

At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.”

You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.”

“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.”

You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.

“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.”

Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble.

“Tell me, Tovar!”

He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs.

“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”

He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides.

“Have you had your fun yet?”

“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.

“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.

“You are everything to me.”

You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.

“You’re so very lucky I love you too.”

His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.

“I know, ranita, I know.”

He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips.

His heart lurches with the wanting of you.

There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest.

He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks.

Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted.

He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it.

You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known.

The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart.

I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you.

He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.

El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.

Translations:

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."

el orgullo - pride

dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation

amorcita - little love, romantic connotation

Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"

Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow

puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it

Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.

ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)

the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!

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syn0vial · 10 months

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man, i continue to be blown away by the thought put into astarion's romance, even in seemingly throwaway scenes.

i just did zethino's test of love with him at the circus of the last days and there's such a stark difference between what wins you approval with him and what wins approval with the other companions.

for those who haven't played this bit, zethino's test of love involves a dryad, zethino, testing how well you know your romantic interest by asking you personal questions about their inner lives—their hopes, their fears, their likes, and dislikes. for most of your companions, this is very straightforward: when you answer a question about them correctly, you win approval points with them. when you say something untrue or insulting, you lose approval points , bc they realize that you're trolling or that you don't know them as well as they'd hoped.

unless you're romancing astarion. in which case, you have to do almost the complete opposite to win his approval.

the other characters want you to prove you know them by answering correctly. astarion wants you to prove you know him by lying—or, at least, refusing to pick the most accurate answer.

case in point: astarion does not like it if you tell the truth about his hopes and fears. like, really doesn't like it. answering honestly about his greatest fear, in particular (his fear of being enslaved again), causes you to lose a whole 4 approval points, twice as much as you lose with the other companions for outright insulting them. you can lose another one before that for answering honestly that his greatest desire is freedom. in both cases, he'll acknowledge that you're right—and then express dismay that you'd disclose that kind of information to a stranger. hell, you can figure out from the very first question that he's not comfortable taking this test with you at all; when the dryad asks what makes astarion happy, you lose approval if you say he's happy to take this test with you now.

so if astarion doesn't want you to pick the most accurate answers for him and honestly doesn't really seem to want to take this test with you at all, which answers can you pick to win approval with him?

well, whichever ones are funniest, of course! you don't win points with him for picking the deepest, truest answers, but the silly, flippant ones that make him laugh. what's astarion's greatest desire? well, me, of course! what's his greatest fear? breaking a nail, obviously. he's delighted by your refusal to take the test seriously and actually approves more of funny, light-hearted answers than badass, flattering ones.

i just think the whole sequence is such a fun and interesting exploration of his character and your relationship with him, all in a silly little side-activity where it would've been easy to just give all the characters the same win-conditions. little details like this are really the game's brightest moments, imo!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion meta #i also absolutely love that astarion likes your silly answers about him more than the badass ones #like astarion WILL like it if you answer that he's a fearless assassin out for revenge #but he'll like it even more if you say he's a lovestruck fop afraid of breaking a nail #i just find that delightful

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ellecdc · 3 months

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hi again tehe! can i request poly!marauders or poly!wolfstar (whichever you choose) with a reader who's touch starved? like she just really wants a hug and a night at home cuddled up with her boyfriends but she's afraid to ask 🥺🥺🥺 maybe they tell her she doesn't have to ask for anything like that, cue the hurt/comfort?? thank u so much if you do decide to do this babe!!

hi darling!!! so I took this in a bit of a direction (I hope you don't mind): touch starved reader who also happens to be James' sister and it's a secret relationship!! this was so fun - thanks for your request

poly!wolfstar x potter!sister reader

You didn’t even have a right to feel this way right now; this had been your idea.

The three of you had been hesitant to announce your...unique relationship to your friends on account of you being James’ sister. But it was you who had decided to keep your addition to the relationship a secret. You liked seeing Sirius and Remus out in public knowing that they were stealing furtive glances your way every so often. You especially liked the shared looks, the hidden touches, all of the intimate moments you had right in front of everyone that no one ever saw.

But today...today, it hurt.

You felt so unbelievably dejected all day, feeling as if you were crawling out of your skin with want. You wanted to be held, caressed, comforted, squeezed.

But you were left having to wrap your own arms around yourself and hope for the best.

You’d gotten to the Great Hall and sat in your usual place across the table from Remus and Sirius, each of whom shared a soft smile and wink at you in a secret hello while James lamented about the Chudley Cannon’s most recent win. You felt someone’s foot – Remus’, if what you were feeling was indeed a pair of converse shoes and not Sirius’ Doc Martens – gently nudge your ankle and tried to let that be enough for now.

But it wasn’t enough, because immediately after dinner the gang all gathered together in the Gryffindor common room to set up for the party, and then immediately after that, you and the girls left to change, and by the time you were finished with that, the party was in full swing.

So, you were sitting on a loveseat pushed up against your brother who was gesturing dramatically as he recounted the Marauders latest prank on Slytherin whilst your boyfriends sat across from you, Sirius’ head in Remus’ lap as Remus ran his fingers through the other boys’ hair, both of their eyes on James as they corrected various pieces of his story. And whilst this view would usually warm your heart or cause butterflies in your stomach, right now it filled you with grief and longing.

It wasn’t fair to even ask because it had been your idea, but why did it have to be you? Why were you the one who had to sit here and pine? The one who had to find ways to comfort themselves while affection was given and taken freely between the other two as often as their hearts desired.

And then you felt guilty because you were happy that they had this with each other. But you wanted it for you.

“Prongs! Do you wanna go see who might be interested in a round of truth or dare?” Sirius asked, interrupting James mid-sentence. You figured that if James a) hadn't been as tipsy as he currently was or b) didn’t really want to play truth or dare, Sirius’ interruption would have vexed him.

“Great idea, Pads.” He opted to say, jumping up to go ask partygoers who may be interested in a game.

“Come on.” He said to you quietly then, gesturing with his head for you to follow him and Remus up to their dorm.

You felt simultaneously overjoyed at the opportunity for alone time with your boyfriends, and nervous that you were about to get a scolding for your sulking.

You walked through the door and Remus closed it behind you as Sirius turned to give you a look laced with concern. “What’s the matter dolly? You seem far away.”

Your eyes welled and your sinuses filled painfully as you let out a whimper. “I’m sorry.” You moaned miserably.

Sirius look like you had ripped him in half as Remus rushed to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Awe, dovey.” He cooed. “What’s going on?”

“It’s silly.” You cried, tightening your hold around yourself as you looked to the floor in shame.

“It’s not silly if it has you this upset, baby girl. Please? What’s the matter?” Sirius begged, taking a step towards you.

“I...I just- ugh.” You tried, looking to the ceiling as if you could convince your tears to ebb through sheer determination.

“I just missed you guys today.” You said, sobbing halfway through your sentence.

“Oh, dovey.” Remus moaned commiseratively. He turned your body towards him and pulled you flush to his chest, and you were abashed at how quickly the tension left your body as you melted into his embrace.

“Sweetheart.” Sirius called to you. His tone sounded like it wanted to be chiding, but it was too full of love to do much other than make you whimper in response. “You mean you’ve been feeling this sad all day because you wanted a hug?”

You were so unbelievably embarrassed, but you knew there was no point in lying so you nodded miserably into Remus’ chest.

Sirius scoffed. “Well, that just won’t do.” He stated as he came up behind you and hugged you awkwardly between him and Remus, causing you to chuckle wetly.

“It doesn’t have to be like this; you know that, right?” Remus murmured into your hair. “Pads and I are more than ready to tell James.”

“Been ready for far too long.” Sirius pouted behind you.

“I just...I don’t... I don’t know. I don’t want to tell him.” You argued.

“But I want to be able to hug my sweet girl whenever she needs a reminder of how loved she is.” Remus countered.

“And I want to snog you in front of the whole Great Hall so that they all know exactly who you come home to at night.” Sirius added.

You made a sound between a laugh and a groan as your burrowed impossibly further into Remus’ chest.

“James came first...” You admitted, voicing your greatest insecurity. “I don’t want him to have an influence on this. I don’t want to have to share this with him.”

Remus hummed in understanding, but you could feel Sirius shaking his head behind you.

“He’s already been sharing this with you, and you with him; he just hasn’t known he was.”

“He may be miffed at first, you’re right about that.” Remus conceded. “But that won’t change the way that Sirius and I treat you, and he won’t stay mad forever.”

“He’ll likely be the most miffed to find out we’ve been hiding this, quite frankly.” Sirius concluded.

You sniffled and rested your ear against Remus’ chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rubbed soothing circles into your back, and Sirius trailed his hands up and down your arms.

This is all you wanted, right here. You didn’t want your brother to know. Not yet. Because though you trusted Remus and Sirius, you knew that some things were bound to change once James found out.

“It hurts me too, not being able to reach out to take your hand at breakfast. To not be able to carry your books and walk you to all your classes.” Remus said.

Sirius hummed in agreement. “And I’ve wanted to punch every single bloke I’ve ever seen even look at you right in the mouth. And I can’t, because that would be weird, and it sucks.”

“We have to tell him eventually, dovey.” Remus pressed seriously. “I don’t want you feeling like this for a single moment longer.”

You groaned in protest, but you knew that it was futile. You were going to have to tell your brother, or he was going to find out. Either way, one day James Potter would know that his two best friends were dating his twin sister.

“Can we tell him tomorrow?” You yielded. Remus physically deflated and you heard Sirius sigh in relief.

“Oh, thank gods.” Sirius whispered.

“Thank you, dove. You’re so brave.” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Had anyone else said that to you, you would have thought them to be patronizing. But you knew Remus truly meant what he said.

“And just in case James does condemn me from the Potter Manor, I’ll just go stay with Moons.” Sirius said jovially.

You knew that would never happen, and you knew that Sirius knew that would never happen. Which meant he’d only said it so he could see you smile.

“I love you.” You said reverently as you lifted your head from Remus’ chest. “Both of you, so much.”

Remus smiled in adoration whilst Sirius looked proper chuffed with himself. “Still can’t believe a disowned blood traitor managed to land the two most perfect wix in all of Hogwarts.”

Remus snorted. “I still can’t believe this poor half-blood half-breed werewolf managed to pull two of the most wonderful wix in the school.” He countered.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “I can’t believe I ended up with such saps.”

“Oi!” Sirius barked at you whilst Remus sucked in a dramatic gasp.

“You little minx.” He growled at you before he pushed you backward onto the bed and laid his long body across the top of you. You groaned dramatically, pretending as if you were suffocating under Remus’ weight even though you could tell he was supporting himself in such a way to keep the brunt of his weight off of you, even though this is exactly what you’d been looking for only moments before.

“Sorry Pads, now you gotta go play truth or dare with Prongs while I coddle our poor girlie.”

Sirius scoffed indignantly. “Fine! But if I pick truth and someone asks me who the best snogger in Hogwarts is, I’m saying Y/N!” And with that, he fled the room.

“You know what?” You said calmly. “If he lets it slip when neither of us are there, that means we don’t have to deal with the fall out.”

Remus chuckled and nosed affectionately at your cheek. “Fine by me.”

Fine by me, indeed.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar x you #poly!wolfstar fluff #poly!wolfstar #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #hurt/comfort #fluff #ellecdc fics

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mclarenviolet · 11 months

Text

Cherry Wine

Astarion x GN!Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood/hunting, shameless flirting and a smidge of fluff

WC: 500+

A/N: Continuing the trend of naming my Astarion fics after Hozier songs because the combination is ✨chef's kiss✨ As always I try to keep reader gender neutral but as I haven't proofread this one particularly well please let me know if there's any slip ups!

You enter the firelit camp after your evening bathe in the nearby river, glad to have washed away the intense grime of the bog you'd been traversing for the last few days. You cast your gaze over to where Astarion lounges against a log, wine bottle in hand, his crimson eyes already fixed on you with a mischievous glint.

"Well, well, well," he purrs, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "If it isn't my favorite person in this whole wretched world."

You roll your eyes, failing in your attempt to hide your smile from the handsome vampire. "Spare me your flattery, Astarion. I might just faint from the shock."

He chuckles, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. "Oh darling, your heart can surely handle a few well-placed compliments from time to time."

You settle down beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. "And what makes you so certain that I'm not immune to your charms?"

Astarion leans in closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. "Because, my dear, I've seen the way your cheeks flush whenever I grace you with my presence."

You fight back a laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He grins, his gaze smoldering as it meets yours. "Ah, but you love every bit of it."

You feign exasperation, throwing up your hands in mock defeat. "Fine, you win. I'm utterly captivated by your snark. Happy now?"

Astarion's laughter is low and melodic, "Delighted, actually."

As the night wears on, the camp grows quiet, your companions settling down in their tents, undoubtedly exhausted from what felt like endless days of battling amidst that miserable bog. Astarion however stays firmly planted by your side, silver hair seemingly glowing in the moonlight as he stares up towards the stars.

"You know," his tone soft, "despite my 'snark' as you so eloquently put it, I really do quite enjoy our time together."

Your heart skips a beat as his playful façade gives way to a vulnerability that takes you by surprise. "I know." your voice equally gentle.

He leans slowly towards you, gaze meeting yours once more, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "And if I were to do something that's shockingly out of character, would you be too surprised to stop me?"

Your breath hitches as his fingers brush against your jaw. "I guess we'll just have to find out."

And with that, his lips capture yours in a passionate kiss fueled by weeks of teasing and flirtatious banter, of stolen glances and lingering touches.

Astarion's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his fingers tangling in your hair. You can taste the coppery tang of whichever creature he hunted earlier mingled with the cherry wine he's been leisurely sipping on all evening, a mixture you find unexpectedly intoxicating.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both pull away, breathless and dazed. Astarion's confident smirk fades into a genuine smile, his inquisitive eyes searching yours.

"Surprised?" he asks, his voice a low whisper.

You grin, all too aware that Astarion's keen hearing must be picking up the way your heart pounds in your chest. "Very."

He leans in to press another kiss to your lips, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back. "Well, my dear, prepare to be surprised more often."

A/N: Welcome to another episode of Violet doesn't know how to end her fics 😌 Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated as always 💕

#I am so deliriously tired after writing this lol #I am off to bed #Hope y'all enjoy 💕#astarion x gn!reader #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #baldur's gate 3

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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

#bts #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook drabble #very brief mention of seokjin x namjoon #bangtan sonyeondan #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut

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perlelune · 1 year

Text

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | vi.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

"You know you shouldn’t lead him on like that," Mindy muses from your bed, her eyes not lifting from the Stephen King novel she’s engrossed in.

You place your phone above the vanity drawer after hanging up. You just decided on another study meetup with Ethan.

It’s been a few weeks since he began tutoring you. There’s been a sharp improvement in your grades and you’re starting to believe that maybe you’ll be able to graduate just like the rest of your friends.

Before, all those things felt as unreachable as the stars in the sky. But Ethan, with his kindness and unlimited supply of patience, made it a reality.

Sure, you won’t be a top student anytime soon, but at least now there’s hope of you not failing the course and falling behind.

"What? I’m not leading him on. Ethan and I are just friends," you defend, puckering your lips as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup before the big game. Your gaze keeps bouncing to the clock. The playoffs begin in a little less than an hour.

Tensions are high tonight. This is no regular game as whichever team wins will go on to compete in the national championship.

It’s one of the reasons Chad and most of the guys on the team have been in a weird mood all week.

Besides, honor’s at stake when a team plays on their own turf.

The pressure’s been off the charts for the cheer squad too, Alana having run the team into the ground to perform well today and not miss a single step.

Despite how exhausted you are, you’re almost thankful for that. Focusing on cheerleading has helped you file away that god awful night.

The humiliation you experienced still burns a hole inside you whenever you remember it.

While you can’t quite shake the lingering sensation of being watched, you can at least try to reclaim a semblance of normalcy.

Hopefully Ghostface had his fill of tormenting you and won’t do anything like that ever again.

Mindy arches her brow and scoffs, "It’s pretty obvious he’s got some desperate puppy crush on you." Under her breath, she mumbles, "...And I’m still not entirely convinced he’s not Ghostface."

You pause, the tip of your lipstick almost snapping as you press it tight against your mouth. You unleash a heavy sigh and whirl to her, brows drawing together.

"Mindy, please. Not that again," you plead.

It's not the first time your best friend has shared her doubts regarding Ethan and you wager it won't be the last.

Every time she catches you texting him or hanging out, disapproval paints her features. She also squints and gestures at him that she’s watching him whenever she crosses paths with him.

It saddens you that she can’t get along with him and won’t relent regarding her suspicions.

Ethan’s helped you so much. It’s unfair that your best friend keeps claiming he’s a murderer without any evidence to back it up.

And outside of tutoring, he’s been a great friend to you, always here to wipe your tears and listen to you talk about anything, however trivial. Every time you ramble on about cartoons, your collection of stuffed animals and how you’d love to get more, clothes or anything really…Ethan wears that same fond smile on his face.

Outside of Chad, you never had a guy best friend. Unfortunately since getting into college, you haven’t seen much of him since he’s so well liked and has developed such a large circle of friends.

So Ethan’s a breath of fresh air.

You relish the ability to talk without fear of judgment or being belittled for the things you pluck joy from or how forgetful and absentminded you can be sometimes.

Ethan has not made fun of you once for misremembering a word or your tendency to get lost around campus. Instead, he escorted you to class and promised to be with you more often so it doesn’t happen. He also agreed with you that it’s not your fault because every building looks the same, which everyone in your friend group laughed at you for mentioning before.

Mindy leaps from the bed, exclaiming, "Come on, Ethan? Shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s so shy and dorky." She lets out a humorless laugh. "Maybe he went all 'if I can’t have you, no one can' and decided to get rid of the competition…permanently."

Your eyes roll as she concludes her theory with a repeated stabbing motion towards her throat.

"You’re ridiculous." You get back to gauging your reflection. As you adjust the pink bow in your hair, you add, "Ethan’s cool. And I can actually understand some of the stuff Professor Atkins says in class now thanks to him."

In the mirror, you watch a sullen Mindy fold her arms behind you.

"I still don’t trust him." She flicks her hands skyward and exhales in defeat. "But I can’t tell you who to hang out with."

You step away from the vanity to make your way to your pouting best friend. She accepts your hug, a deep scowl still etched on her face.

"Let’s just drop it, okay?" you offer. "I hate arguing with you."

Mindy sighs against your shoulder.

"I’m just trying to keep you safe."

Leaning back, you squeeze her shoulders and smile.

"I know, and I love you for it…but you gotta ease off him, Min." She groans at that, tossing herself back onto your bed with her arms spread. As she glowers at the ceiling, you maintain, "Ethan’s been an amazing friend to me."

More curses are grumbled under her breath. Shoulders slumping, you elect to give it a rest and stop trying to convince her.

You know how stubborn Mindy can be. There will be no changing her mind tonight, or anytime soon.

Casting the upsetting topic aside, you hop to the center of the room and spin in your cheerleader outfit.

"How do I look?"

"Like a fembot specifically designed to appeal to the male gaze," Mindy deadpans.

You angle your head sideways. "Is that a good thing or bad thing?"

She chuckles and smiles at you before elaborating, "You look smoking hot, babe." The befuddled frown on your face vanishes, an elated grin supplanting it. Mindy returns to her reading and gives you a thumbs-up. "Break a leg."

Grimacing, you grab your pom-poms from underneath your bed and head for the door.

"Hopefully not or Alana will kill me."

You’re on your way to meet up with your squad when you stumble upon Ethan in the hallway. As usual, he’s dressed simply in a blue button-up and dark slacks, damp locks of his curly mane kissing his forehead.

He greets you in that bashful way he does while you beam at him, shaking your pom-poms.

You jog in his direction with a bounce in each step.

"Ethan, hey!"

His gaze widens as it roams over you, pink dusting his cheeks.

"Wow, you look…"

Placing a hand on your hip while the other lifts your pom-pom above your head, you adopt a cheerful pose.

"Cute?" you suggest.

Ethan’s throat ripples as he gapes at you.

For a while, he only does that, stare at you open-mouthed.

His face then turns an even brighter shade than before as he dips his head down momentarily.

"Y-Yeah. Something like that," he stammers.

His reaction drags an amused chortle out of you. You surmise it’s the first time you’ve addressed him in your full cheerleader getup and he must be somewhat taken aback.

"I didn’t know you liked sports," you observe.

He shrugs.

"Not particularly but everyone is going and Chad’s my roommate." He points at the camera hanging from his neck. "I also kind of got roped into taking pictures for the school paper."

Some of the other cheerleaders wave at you as they’re running out to the field. The impatient clamor of the crowd already swells from the bleachers, loud enough to be heard even from the corridor.

One of the girls from the squad, Lisa, stops as she catches sight of you and Ethan. A quiet conversation flows between the two of you, an inquiry swaying in her hopeful blue orbs.

You give her an imperceptible nod and she smiles at you, quickly averting her gaze and striding away when Ethan glances from her to you with a look of utter confusion on his face.

"What the hell was that about?" he asks, thick brows drawing together.

"About that…It’s good that I ran into you because there's something I meant to tell you, hm, more like ask you."

He inches closer, his eyes on you wide and alert.

"Ask me what?"

A sliver of hesitation zips through you but you remember the promise you made just a few hours ago at cheer practice.

You can’t back down.

You swallow a lungful of nerve and reveal, "So…one of the girls in my squad sort of has a massive crush on you."

"Oh," he exhales, his shoulders sagging. His smile fades, understanding seeming to dawn on him. "You mean that girl I just saw?"

You nod and explain, "Her name’s Lisa." He considers you blankly. You wave your hands in front of yourself. Words rush out of your mouth in an apprehensive string. "I know. I know. Trying to set up your friends is so cringe but she noticed you since the beginning of the year. The thing is she’s shy and doesn't know how to approach you. I promised her to ask you if you’d be interested in hanging out sometime." You twiddle your thumbs and mumble, "She’s super pretty and so nice, and she’s even into that same board game you told me about the other day…" You trail off, forehead creasing as you try to remember the name.

Ethan tonelessly corrects you when you misspell the name of the game.

You perk up and giggle, "Right. She just told me. I don't know how I forgot."

Ethan studies you long enough that it becomes unnerving and you start fidgeting under his sizzling focus.

You grow nervous, wondering what he’s thinking. Usually, you wouldn’t meddle with anyone’s love life. But Ethan’s done so much for you. If possible, you want to do something for him too.

You just don’t know what you could do to thank him.

Setting him up with someone from your squad seemed like a good idea, especially since you’re pretty sure Ethan’s single. You haven’t seen him hang around any other girl besides you.

A heavy sigh drops from Ethan’s chest as his lips lift into a small half-smile.

"The thing is, I already like someone," he confesses, patting his camera.

Your eyes bulge as a wave of embarrassment washes over you.

"You do? I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize." You blink up at him in curiosity. "Who is she? Does she know?"

He chuckles. "She doesn’t know anything."

You approach him and squeeze his arm encouragingly.

"Well you’re awesome so if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, you’re allowed to move on."

Ethan lets out another wry laugh.

"If only it were that simple."

Your brows knit. "What do you mean?"

He runs his hand through his thick curls and exhales a long, weary breath.

"She’s all I can think about. Literally." He pauses, his gaze corralling yours. "Every hour of every day, I think about her."

"Wow, that’s intense." You rub his forearm and send a sympathetic smile. "Sounds like it’s more than just a crush. Sounds like you’re in love with her."

"Yeah, I guess I am. Silly me, huh?"

"Don’t say that. I’m sure things will work out in the end. You deserve to be happy, Ethan."

His attention on you sharpens before a slow smile unfurls on his lips.

"You know what? I think I do."

"Of course you do."

Your answer makes him smile wider.

The moment is shattered when one of the players wedges himself between you and Ethan and steals an ephemeral, chaste kiss from you.

The buff brunette quarterback flashes you a pearly grin.

"A kiss for good luck?" he says, winking at you.

"Uh, sure," you reply shyly, butterflies swarming your belly.

He smiles at you one last time before jogging towards the stadium.

"Who’s this guy?"

You blink, Ethan’s deep, blunt voice startling you.

Pivoting back to him, you explain, "Oh. Tyler and I met at the boba shop the other day. It’s too early for anything serious but he’s cute and has been super nice to me."

It’s been pleasant to bask in some sense of normalcy again after what happened last month. You craved it. Tyler’s easygoing, fun to be around and he’s never pressured you to do anything once.

Ethan’s jaw clenches as he scoffs, "Do you just go for every guy who buys you candy or gives you some half-assed compliment?"

Your mouth hangs open in shock. "Ethan? What do you mean?"

He scrutinizes you for a few seconds before sighing and moving to walk away.

"Nothing. Don’t worry about it."

The hand you wrap around his wrist stops him, Ethan halting in his tracks. You tug him back with a contrite pout, your concerned gaze rising to meet his.

"I am going to worry about it. Ethan… Did I say something upsetting? I feel like maybe I did. I'm sorry about Lisa. I thought she'd be your type. She's everyone's type."

"Well, she isn't mine," he replies icily.

Budding tears tickle the back of your eyes but you repress them. It’s not the time to weep. The game’s about to start.

So you swallow them with ease, deciding you’ll give Ethan a proper apology later on.

Instead you give a sunny smile and ask, "Are you coming to hang out with everyone after the game? We all decided to meet up for chili fries and beers whatever the outcome is."

Ethan’s eyes fall on your hand wrapped around his wrist. He shifts your grip so your small hand rests in his larger one. He studies your twined hands, rubbing his thumb against the back of yours.

When he looks at you again, a glint dances in his chestnut orbs.

"Thanks but I’m gonna be busy actually." He flashes you a broad grin. "I just remembered I have some trash I need to take out."

#ethan landry x reader #scream fanfic #bimbo!reader #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry x you #scream #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x bimbo!reader

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tu2tru · 3 months

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i was wondering could you do a MC who kinda just- craves their help? Like somewhat like a daddy issues trope type thing, an MC who wants the brothers' help and just wamts them to always give them affection/touch. An MC who wants Lucifer to put his hand on their wrist or thigh, an MC who likes to play cards with Mammon, an MC who likes to lay in Levi's lap while watching anime, an MC who loves to lean against Satan while reading, an MC who likes it when Asmo holds their chin while he does their makeup, an MC who holds hands with Beel while snacking, an MC who cuddles and rarely lets go of Belphie when sleeping. The previous were just like examples btw-

✎ Obey Me Brothers જ⁀➴ Providing Attention

In need of attention? The brother's got you .ᐟ They all want to take care of you, and this is how they'd do it -`♡´- .ᐟ

⸝⸝ gender neutral , sfw ⸝⸝

・❥╭─────────────╯

.ᐟ 𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗋

Going to lucifer while he's working, he's ready to focus all his attention on you. Taking a break from everything just to be with you. Lucifer will let you sit on his lap, holding you close to him. You're special to him, and he wants you to feel comfortable with him and the environment. Putting on some calming music for you, laying back, and drawing circles on your back with the occasional kiss on the cheek or forehead. He mostly stays quiet during this, but is as comforting as can be. Though, the exceptional "Are you feeling well?" and "I love you." will be said, just to check in on you.

.ᐟ 𝖬𝖺𝗆𝗆𝗈𝗇

Mammon would want to to be happy, so he takes you out to fun places that'll get you excited. How about a theme park? He'd be pretty touchy, holding your waist from behind, kissing your neck, always holding your hand, wrapping his arms around your shoulder, stuff like that! He'd also be very vocal, constantly asking you if you're enjoying yourself, and there's always a stream of compliments coming from him. His attention will be focused on you and your happiness. He will even try to win a prize for you! Possibly embarrassing himself in the process, but as long as you're happy, it doesn't matter to him.

.ᐟ 𝖫𝖾𝗏𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇

Typically, Levi is the one who would prefer to be receiving the attention, but with you, he loves any interaction with you. He's happy to care for you, no doubt about it. He knows the best way to go about this is to do what he knows helps him. He'll cuddle you closely while watching an anime of your choice. He gives you access to his secret stash of snacks to share together, and he will be feeding you sweets so you can focus on the anime. You'll lay your head on his shoulder, and he freezes up, but will quickly adjust and lay his head on your head too. A comfortable, loving silence under a blanket together, going into the night. Tonight, it's just you and him.

.ᐟ 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝖺𝗇

"Relax with me. I want to take care of you." Satan will start off by making a pot of tea or coffee, whichever you prefer. As it's being made, he picks out a book from his wide selection. He specifically aims for one with beautiful words, just as beautiful as he sees you. Once your drinks are made, and the book is chosen, he sits down, and motions you to sit between his legs. You lay down, your head on his chest. Wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your head, holding the book in front of you. He slowly and softly reads the pages to you, while taking breaks here and there to kiss you on the head.

.ᐟ 𝖠𝗌𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗎𝗌

Awww , Asmo is happy to give you attention! He will quickly set up a beautiful bubble bath for you! Complete with flower petals, a bath bomb of your choice, calming candles, and the lights dimmed! He's got matching face masks too! He gets in with you and begins to massage your shoulders with a sweet lotion, complimenting your shoulders and just about every inch of you, especially your face. He finds you so cute, he'd be pinching your cheeks if it weren't for your face mask. Though, this doesn't stop him from placing kisses on you everywhere he can. He washes your body and your hair, constantly praising every bit of you. Once you two get out, he's already got matching robes prepared for you. And, a little box of chocolates! He will hand feed them to you, all while still massaging and kissing you. You both get caught up in doing your hair and nails. This goes on, and you end up staying the night with him, falling asleep in his arms.

.ᐟ 𝖡𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗓𝖾𝖻𝗎𝖻

Beelzebub will cook a special meal for you. He knows just what you like. He's been wanting to cook this for you for some time, but was waiting for a proper moment. Now is that moment. Once he finishes, he sits down with you, and will feed his meal to you while holding your cheeks. Any food that falls onto your face will be kissed off by him, but he will kiss you even if there isn't any food on your face. All while looking you in your eyes. He loves your eyes, and thinks you look absolutely delicious. Every bit of you. Ready for dessert? He's ready too. He wants to bake cookies with you. He stays close to you, helping you along the way. You two have fun baking together, and look! He's baked a cookie in the shape of a heart, just for you! As you two eat your cookies together, he can't help but think that you'll always be sweeter than any cookie in the whole world.

.ᐟ 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗀𝗈𝗋

A nap together, of course! He has a big, warm bed of blankets just calling your name. And so is he. You lay with him, and it's like laying on a bed of clouds. A very warm bed of clouds. He holds you so close to him, and strokes your back with his hand. He absolutely will not let go of you. He whispers sweet things to you, and kisses your head constantly. He watches you sleep in his arms, admiring you. Despite being tired, he stays up a bit longer than you, just so he can watch you, kiss you, and hold you. He soon falls asleep with his nose on your forehead, and you both breathe in sync. This will be the best nap he's had in a while.

・❥╭─────────────╯

i had a lot of fun writing this one, especially asmo's and beel's part! so many kisses! thank you for requesting me- i hope this satisfies :> !

my requests are open, i have more plans for the brothers too! bye ! :) ఌ︎

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signedkoko · 4 months

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GOSH, all your writings make me feel all bouncy and giddy I swear AaaAAAA

Feeling slightly inspired by your previous Lucifer and Lilith with a reader who ends up attacked, might I request a Vox X Reader, where while they're both out together, Reader notices someone apparently brave enough to attack Vox and just- autopilot takes the hit to protect him? Turns out afterwords it wasn't an Angelic weapon of any kind, so even though it's nasty and painful, they'll ultimately be okay...

But did Reader KNOW that? Nope. Could Vox have probably handled it himself with how powerful he is? Yep. Did either one of those thoughts even cross Reader's mind until after? NOPE.

Reader just saw harm approaching the one they love so much and just went into instant protect mode...

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which someone attempts an attack on Vox, but you decide to get in the way. Reader is genderneutral.

It was just another press conference, the same as all the others

VoxTek had a new announcement, and reporters flocked to be the ones with the most interesting story or the first, whichever got them more praise from their lousy boss

Both the CEO and spokesperson, Vox insisted on being the face everyone knew and saw, as well as the voice they all followed

You were a not-so-recent addition to his empire, and some cameras were sure to catch a frame or two of you as you waited on the side, smiling and waving to the crowd

You were only here because it made Vox happy and because you would rather be seen than not

VoxTek had some of the highest security, with mostly Vox himself watching over everything

You always wondered how he could keep track of so many tasks at once

But the screams of everyone sounded different, less like a thousand questions and more like terror, incomprehensible yells as someone broke through the crowd

They had a gun; it looked white and gold, you weren't sure if Vox hadn't noticed or didn't care

All you knew was that your body moved, and suddenly you were between the bullet and fov when it pierced right into your side

The space cleared of voices before one of the bodyguards tackled the man and wrestled the gun from his grip

While you stood there, clutching your abdomen, the lava-like pain burst through your abdomen

Before Vox could react, flashes began again, most of the crowd recognizing the occurrence or snapping photos of you stood there, still in shock from the shot

What did you expect from demons? They'd win a bonus if they caught the first image of you being shot

Before you can think much of it, Vox is running, carrying you, and applying pressure with his hand and yours over the bullet hole

Thank god the press release was in the Vees tower, he's laid you on a counter in the lobby, his jacket bunched up under your head and his claws tearing through your shirt to access the wound

There's no time for a hospital; besides, he knows everything, he can be the best doctor in the world in a second, and he's going to be if it means helping you

" Thank go- "

" Thank god what! I could take that shot! Shut up! "

You decide to listen because, well, you can barely speak through gritted teeth

He's calling Val to come down and bring any kind of anaesthetic.

He's able to fix you up more than enough, but just to be safe, he's called in his private doctor to come take a look at you

Once everything has calmed down and you're back upstairs with Vox, he's got a million different questions

Why? I mean, he could take a bullet with ease! hes moslty metal, everything can be replaced!

Even worse if you really thought it was an angel weapon, because that would have absolutely killed you!

" It's not like I had time to think, Vox. I just moved! "

He's frustrated that you'd ever be in harm's way, but it's hard for him to stay mad knowing you just wanted to protect him

Author's Note - I wasn't sure if I should go for an angst or romantic note on this one, but I felt a little humour coping was more like Vox so I went for romantic! Thank you for requesting 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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deerlino · 9 days

Note

Can i please request an arcade date fic w han? Or a nap date fic w han? Like whichever one you choose can you make it with a lot of hugs and face kisses? If you choose the arcade one can you like make it like a double date w like chan and his gf and like make it so each couple is competing w each other or girls v guys?????

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR ( HJS. )

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Sypnosis: You and your boyfriend Jisung hit the arcade for a double date with your friends Chan and his girlfriend. It’s game after game with the loser buying dinner. (746 words)

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Arcade (Double) Date, Competitive Spirit, Crack, Humor, Teasing & Banter, Kisses, Hugs, Dinner Date, Pet Names

Warnings: Strong Language (Cussing)

Author’s notes: I’m obsessed with arcade fics, so thanks for the request, anon! <3 I usually don't write fics with more than two characters (you can probably tell after reading this 😅), but it was fun to try something new! There’s more interaction between Jisung and the reader (Y/N) than between Chan and his girlfriend, but if you want Chan’s and his girlfriend’s POV for this night, I’d be happy to write it—just let me know! Hope you enjoy this fic! 🖤

You walk into the arcade with Jisung by your side, the neon lights reflecting off his bright smile. Chan and his girlfriend are already inside, waving enthusiastically. The air buzzes with excitement, laughter, and the constant clattering of game machines.

“Finally! We thought you guys got lost or something,” Chan jokes, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Please, we were just fashionably late,” Jisung retorts, his arm snug around your waist. “Ready to lose?”

“Oh, it’s on,” Chan grins. “Losers buy dinner, right?”

You nod, feeling the competitive fire in your belly. “Prepare your wallet, Chan.”

The first game is basketball hoops. You and Jisung face off against Chan and his girlfriend. Jisung winks at you, his confidence infectious.

“Okay, babe, show ’em what you got,” Jisung encourages, squeezing your hand.

You take a deep breath and start shooting. The balls fly out of your hands in a blur, and you manage to sink a few good shots. Jisung, meanwhile, is a machine, sinking basket after basket with ease.

“Yes! That’s my girl!” he shouts, pulling you into a hug, his lips brushing against your temple.

Chan’s girlfriend isn’t too shabby either, and she and Chan are racking up points fast. It’s neck and neck, but in the end, Jisung’s steady aim pulls you both ahead.

“Ha! In your face!” Jisung crows, doing a little victory dance. You join in, laughing as he twirls you around.

“Alright, alright, you won this one,” Chan admits, feigning defeat. “Next game!”

You move on to the air hockey table. Chan insists on a rematch, and you can see the determination in his eyes. You and Jisung huddle close, strategizing.

“Just keep hitting it towards Chan’s left side,” Jisung whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “He’s terrible there.”

You nod, determined. The puck flies back and forth in a flurry of intense concentration. Each time you score, Jisung’s whoops fill the air, followed by a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You got this, babe! One more point!”

You give it your all and, with a final swift move, score the winning point. Jisung lifts you off the ground in a bear hug, peppering your face with kisses.

“Attagirl, you got this!” he exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

Chan throws his hands up in mock despair. “I can’t believe this. Next game!”

You move from game to game, the stakes growing higher with each round. Skee-ball, racing games, whack-a-mole. You and Jisung are in sync, teasing and cheering each other on, sharing quick hugs and kisses every chance you get.

At one point, during a particularly heated dance game, Jisung accidentally steps on your foot. He immediately stops, concern written all over his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, baby!” he apologizes, crouching down to inspect your foot. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Sungie,” you assure him, giggling at his overreaction. “Just don’t step on me again!”

He stands up, giving you a sheepish smile before pulling you into a hug. “Never. Let’s win this.”

And win you do. By the end of the night, the scoreboard is clear: you and Jisung have won more games than Chan and his girlfriend. Chan groans dramatically, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes.

“Fine, dinner’s on us,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “You guys are too good at this.”

“We’ll try to be gracious winners,” Jisung says, giving you a mischievous look before planting a kiss on your lips.

You all head to a nearby diner, collapsing into the booth in a fit of giggles and exhausted happiness. Jisung sits close to you, his hand never leaving yours. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I had so much fun tonight,” he murmurs. “We should do this more often.”

You smile, turning to kiss his cheek. “Definitely. But next time, we’re upping the stakes.”

Jisung laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “You’re on, babe.”

As you all dig into your food, the conversation flows easily, filled with teasing, laughter, and the warmth of good company. Jisung keeps sneaking kisses, his fingers laced with yours under the table.

By the end of the night, you can’t stop smiling. It’s been a perfect date, full of fun, love, and a healthy dose of competition. And as Jisung walks you home, his arm around your waist and his lips pressed to your forehead, you know there’s no one else you’d rather be with.

© deerlino (est. 150624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

#han jisung x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #han jisung fluff #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han jisung x you #stray kids x you #han jisung imagines #han jisung scenarios #han jisung fanfic #*writing

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chaesparklez · 2 months

Text

victory (pt.1) | taerae x reader

wc: 2.7k

reader: femme afab

warnings: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI

teasing, lap dancing, oral m!receiving, sloppy oral sex, tension, slightly bratty reader, subby taerae

synopsis: game rules

- whichever player makes the opponent cum in the shortest amount of time wins. the opponent only has to cum once for the player to win.

- the game is timed. the timer starts upon first contact with the opponent's center.

- acts of foreplay like kissing or heavy petting excluding the genitals do not count.

a thrilling game of control and domination. whose victory will it be?

a/n: i am so so happy to have written this story! the idea and writing process for this piece flowed out so naturally and i had so much fun writing it. as a kkultarae i feel like a taerae fic was long overdue. enjoy the story and stay seated for pt 2 :)

cross-posted on wattpad and ao3. available through user @/chaesparkle

“let's play a game."

taerae looks up from his computer, slipping his headphones off one ear.

"what was that, jagi?" he replies.

you smile mischievously and take a couple steps towards him where he sits at his gaming desk. you ruffle his hair and rest your hand on the nape of his neck.

"i said, let's play a game. a really fun one." you smile, massaging his neck with your hand.

he looks up into your eyes, his gaze a mix of curiosity and amusement.

"what game is it?" he asks.

you grin deviously.

you and taerae had been dating for a year and a half now. initially shy, he had opened up wonderfully with you, appreciating how you were always ready to lead him and teach him something new. whether it was explaining some cool academic concept, a technique on how to fold a fitted sheet... or how to eat pussy.

with his lack of experience, you guys started off pretty slow so he could learn the basics. but once he got going... well.

the thing about taerae was that he was incredibly hardworking. he knew what he lacked in and worked tirelessly till he perfected it. and he did so with this quiet confidence that you'd always found insanely sexy. not overly cocky, never too critical of himself, just aware of his good points and always ready to improve.

you can imagine how that translated into the bedroom. over the course of the past year you had basically given him a 101 on how to drive a woman crazy, and needless to say you couldn't keep your hands off eachother once he had grown comfortable exploring.

and today, you decided you wanted to give a surprise test to spice things up a bit.

"let's see who can make the other cum the fastest."

his eyebrows raise in surprise, caught a little off guard at the unexpected proposal. but shock is taken over by amusement, then competitiveness as his eyes glint with determination.

"what are the stakes?" he asks.

"winner doesn't have to do the dishes for a week."

he laughs and ruffles his hair. "can't pass up that," he takes his headset off and swivels around in his chair to face you fully.

'okay, any rules?' he asks.

you purse your lips in thought for a second, deciding how you wanted to do this. "hmmm."

you set out the following rules:

- whichever player makes the opponent cum in the shortest amount of time wins. the opponent only has to cum once for the player to win.

- the game is timed. the timer starts upon first contact with the opponent's center.

- acts of foreplay like kissing or heavy petting excluding the genitals do not count.

taerae loved this organisation. he smirks and nods his head, loving the prospect of both winning a competition and getting to see you crumble before him.

"sounds good to me. get ready to have the fastest orgasm you've ever had." he grins.

"unfortunately that'll be you." you smile.

"guess we'll just have to see about that. who should go first?'

"i will. come to the sitting room in 10 minutes." you reply, already having decided what you'd do with a smirk.

"okay then," he replies, gazing at you with darkened eyes. 'i’m anticipating it.’

you smile and plant a kiss on his neck. "may the best player win." you whisper.

"oh, he will." he breathes.

"honey, you can come out now!" you call.

taerae enters the sitting room to find the lights dimmed and a chair placed in the middle of the room. you are nowhere to be seen.

"jagi, where are you?" he calls back, mildly puzzled.

"you'll see plenty of me in a second," you chirp with a grin from the adjoining room. 'sit in the chair and wait in the meanwhile.'

he takes his place and laughs quietly to himself, anticipating to see what you've prepared. you had a habit of surprising him but he was sure he wouldn't fall for it this time being determined to win the game.

well, he was sure in for a ride.

all of a sudden, he hears music filling the room. the speakers were playing a song from all corners of the space. he looks around bemused.

"jagi?" he calls out.

showtime.

"yes?" you reply innocently, stepping into the doorway.

taerae's eyes widen with shock for a second, then he bites his lip with a smile, throwing his head back with a chuckle knowing that he's already in danger of losing by how his cock is twitching in his pants just at the sight of you.

you stand before him dressed in a baby tee and plaid micro mini skirt, white thigh high socks and platform heels. the only accessories you wore were a kitty headband and a white garter with a bow around your thigh. much of you was on show not leaving a lot to the imagination; although taerae's imagination right now was running wild. you smile, knowing this outfit would drive him crazy.

you knew that your gamer boyfriend was secretly into the stereotypical sexy female twitch streamer getup despite him insisting he was different. after all, he was still a man. and you were going to play this to your advantage to win the game. you were going to give him an agonizing lap dance.

you strut slowly towards him and circle around his chair while caressing his shoulder. he places his hand on top of yours as you brush it across his hoodie, to which you remove your hand immediately.

"no touching yet." you whisper, waggling a finger at him mischievously.

taerae bites his lip and covers his face with his hands, knowing that having to sit still while you give him a lap dance barely clothed might actually make him cum in his pants if he doesn't control himself. his cock was already throbbing like crazy.

all he could think about right now was how fucking sexy you looked in that outfit. like a present wrapped up for him with that bow around your thigh. he wanted nothing more than to fuck you in this getup, removing your garter with his teeth. bending you over and sliding your panties aside before thrusting his throbbing erection into your core, watching you teeter in those stilettos...

but here he stayed sat on the chair as you tortured him with your wily charms. he sits on his hands purely because he wasn't sure he could refrain from touching you if he didn't.

now slowly, more deliberately, you strut to the back of his chair and run your hand along his chest where you can momentarily feel his heart pounding, tracing your fingertips up along his neck then pulling his head back with a tug to his hair. you exhale warm breath onto his exposed neck before gently kissing him below the lobe then nibbling on his ear.

"fuck." taerae breathes, fighting not to let out a moan.

he was struggling to keep his resolve as you knew exactly how to make him crumble- by targeting his erogenous zone. the tingling sensation of your breath on his neck and your gentle nibbles on his earlobe drives him insane, exhaling shakily with his eyes closed. he swallows nervously and purses his lips together.

you release him with a smile, continuing to circle round with your hand tracing his other shoulder, down to his chest, then his thigh, till you stand before him. you place your leg between his thighs, stiletto resting on the polished oak of the chair. then grazing his inner thigh with your foot. he clenches his teeth in desperation, using all the power in him to not forfeit the game and fuck you right in this chair.

you draw your hand up your thigh beginning at the knee, brushing past the lacy garter. taerae's gaze follows your touch; your panties were visible as your skirt hiked up past your thighs. he stared with longing at your parted thighs, wanting nothing more than to grab them and bury his head between them..

you lift his chin with a finger forcing him to look away from your leg and at your face.

"look at me, baby." you whisper.

he nods in submission, prompting a tingle to spread through your center at the yearning look in his eyes. you step back and begin to dance for him, letting the music wash over you as you sway your hips, flip your hair and draw out every movement so his eyes linger on the arch of your back and your tantalising ass peeking out from under that micro mini skirt. taerae watches you intently, entranced and still struggling to ignore the aching bulge in his pants.

"you're determined to win this, huh?" he rasps.

"of course." you reply, cocking your head to the side and grinning.

running a hand through your hair, you amble slowly towards your tortured lover. then straddle him in the chair, legs either side of him with your chest in his face. he swallows nervously at your proximity, gazing up at you with longing.

“you can touch me if you want,” you whisper.

he runs his fingers up the side of your exposed waist, making you shiver gently. you begin to move your hips, grinding against his clothed cock and feeling it graze your center. you bite your lip to stifle a moan, the both of you engaging in a torturous battle of restraint; you weren’t sure who’d lose.

you continue to undulate against him and lean down to plant kisses on his neck. you suck and nibble at the smooth skin, peppering his neck with splotchy red love bites. he lets out a shaky breath and you feel his cock twitch. gingerly, he palms your breast, long fingers running across your nipple and squeezing gently. you let out a soft moan against his neck and retract, gazing into his eyes as your chests rise and fall against eachother. you feel yourself start to lose focus and remember suddenly to maintain your resolve, breaking the moment of catharsis by planting a kiss on his full lips and leaving his lap.

knowing your ass looked great in this skirt, you decided to tease him further by facing away and bending over slightly, tracing your fingertips down the back of your thighs, shaking it a little with a giggle. you can practically hear him stop breathing trying to control himself.

placing your hands on the arms of the chair, you flick your hair while swaying your ass side to side before sitting in his lap, this time pushing your clouded thoughts aside determined to win the game. you hook your arm around his neck and begin to grind again, slower but more firmly this time. rolling your hips and feeling his erection poking your ass as you move against it. you brush your other hand across your chest as you lose yourself in the movements.

"jagi... please.." he rasps in your ear.

pretending not to hear his plea, you give yourself a sly smile and rise from his lap.

then you sink down to your knees in front of him looking up at him with pseudo innocence.

"please what, baby? are you asking for something?" you ask, batting your lashes.

"touch me. let me touch you. please... so hard." he groans, clenching his jaw and throwing his head back in agitation.

"someone looks bothered. let's see if we can get rid of some of that tension." you reply wily.

you rub his thighs with your hands, deliberately avoiding his cock to avoid breaking the rules. he exhales shakily. you smile, finally deciding to reward him for holding out this long.

"you've done so well, baby. let me make you feel good." you whisper.

you pull down his pants enough so his erection springs out, tip leaking a bead of precum. even though you were trying to assert dominance right now, the sight of him this hard made you suddenly aware of the wetness building between your thighs.

you reach under the chair for the stopwatch you had placed there and hold it facing towards him.

"let's start." you say, and press the 'go' button.

taking a moment to push your hair back, you take his cock into your hand and spit on it before stroking it gently. you gaze up into his eyes and slowly lick along the dorsal vein at a painstaking pace. his cock twitches in your hand as if it calls out for more. starting at the shaft, you plant sloppy kisses all the way up his length till you reach his angry pink tip, then deepthroat him. taerae lets out a deep moan, the feeling of his cock all the way down your warm throat sending tingles down his spine.

you swirl your tongue around his tip to lick up the leaking precum before slowly sucking him off, your mouth travelling halfway down before coming up again. he looks down at you with a dark gaze, pupils focused on you intently.

you begin to suck him off more intensely, starting off slow then progressively getting faster, sloppily spitting all over his cock making a warm sticky mess all over the both of you. you watch as the saliva runs down his length; it momentarily remains a string suspended in air between your lips and his cock, and as you jerk him off it makes a delectable sound.

he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "doing so well, baby. you look so hot right now drooling all over my dick."

you smile in satisfaction and carry on. you pick up the pace, head bobbing up and down rapidly as you suck him off with your ass jiggling in time with your movements. you deepthroat him again and stay there for a couple seconds, moaning so the vibrations from your throat send him into a new plane of ecstasy. your eyes water slightly from the pressure but you continue at a slowly increasing speed, feeling him get closer to climax as his groans of pleasure grow louder.

then your final weapon. you enclose your lips around his tip while your hand remains wrapped around his length, and suck.

"f-fuck. oh my god. fuck." he breathes, stuttering from the sheer stimulation. your lips targeting the most sensitive part of his cock while you jerk him off sloppily drives him insane. he screws his eyes shut and moans.

"i'm close," he pants. you maintain the pace and carry on sucking and licking the smooth head of his cock, making eye contact with him once again.

and he shatters.

with a deep grunt, he cums, hot fluid spurting all over your tongue. you slow down the movements of your hand and suck his tip clean of every last drop of cum, then swallow, releasing his cock from your mouth with a pop. you move the hair out of your eyes, slightly out of breath and panting.

he looks down at the scene before him: his cock covered in a mix of spit and precum, your chin covered in saliva, cheeks red and lipstick smudged. he holds your chin and wipes a smear of pink away with his thumb.

"have to give this one to you, baby. you never fail to surprise me." he laughs wearily as you gaze at eachother.

taerae's face is flushed and his pupils waver from side to side as you kneel before him a mess. hair tangled, makeup smudged...

you hold up the stopwatch.

"five minutes twelve seconds. think you can beat it?"

he takes a moment to regard you, then smiles, leaning forward in his chair with a knowing expression.

what you didn't know was that taerae was just as competitive as you- if not more. and while you had gone above and beyond his expectations right now, he still had something in store for you that would have you folding immediately.

planning, organising, calculating like a true 'T' on how to give you the fastest orgasm of your life. you didn't stand a chance. he smirks at you with an air of utmost confidence, caressing your cheek.

"i think you'll be surprised at what i have in store for you, jagi," he breathes in a deep voice.

and you find yourself a little thrown off by his sudden resolve, thinking you hadn't crumbled him to dust as finely as you thought you had. but overwhelmingly what you felt right now was... lust.

his dimples appearing as he flashes that sly smirk, eyes filled with competitiveness and that quiet confidence that made you very aware of how your core was soaking wet and throbbing.

noticing your expression, taerae chuckles again and leans forward so your faces are only inches apart.

"let's see what you have to say to my plan." he whispers in your ear.

*and the game continues…*

#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 fanfiction #zb1 imagines #zb1 fics #zb1 smut #taerae imagines #kpop smut #kim taerae #taerae smut #taerae x reader #zb1 x reader #zb1 scenarios #zb1 taerae #zerobaseone taerae #taerae scenarios #kim taerae smut #zb1 x you #zb1 hard hours

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thefirstknife · 5 months

Text

Also! New Festival of the Lost armour sets voting is ON! And I suspect it will cause a great community war, but over something actually silly and not horrible. The theme is wizards and we can vote for good wizards or evil wizards:

They're honestly both really good. I really want the good wizard Titan, but I prefer the other two as evil wizards. But whichever one wins, I'll be happy, they're really cool sets.

They'll send an email with the link to vote, but you can also click here and you can also vote for each individually. Voted for good Titan, and evil Hunter and Warlock personally.

#destiny 2 #festival of the lost

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blue-aconite · 6 months

Text

book club activities || r.b.f

Summary: Bob's girlfriend has a book club.

Warnings: Suggestive texting, absolute nonsense, somehow Bradley and Jake stole the show (idiots)

Word Count: 940

Pairings: Bob Floyd x f!reader

Authors Note: Happy birthday @bobfloydsbabe! This is the dumbest thing I've ever written and it also sucks but it has your favourite lil dude in it and I love you! I hope you've had a great birthday! Enjoy this insanely weird drabble.

“You should really read it.”

Bob sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Sweetheart, I’m not reading Twilight with you.”

His girlfriend pouted from the corner of the couch, aiming a kick against his shin. “But you liked the films.”

“No, I said I thought they weren’t bad. I never said I liked them.” They had watched all of the films a weeknight ago, which Bob initially had only done to please her.

“And you said the films were better than the books.” Bob argued, reaching over to right the blanket covering her body as it had half fallen to the floor.

“Yes but I still think you should read the books.” She said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I will go out and get you your favourite food, two new books, a new notepad and pencils if you don’t make me read the books.” Bob placated, hoping that it would satisfy her.

She looked thoughtful, eyebrows drawing together as she contemplated his offer.

“Which books?

Bob smiled, knowing he was winning. “Whichever you want, darling.”

She stared at him for another moment before tossing the blanket aside to cuddle into his side.

“I want Pho, I don’t have the last two books of ASOIAF and please get me a A4 notebook, not A5,” she paused momentarily, hand splayed against his abdomen, “and cuddles please.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, slouching slightly so she could get more comfortable. “Yes ma’am.”

The rain was smattering against windows, the sun setting just behind the tree line they could see from their backyard.

Ever since Bob had found out he was going to be stationed permanently in San Diego, they decided to get a house and set down some roots.

“I love you, even if you don’t want to read Twilight with me.” She whispered against his T-shirt, making Bob laugh. She soon joined in and they giggled together for a few moments before once again settling into the couch.

“I love you too. Do you want Pho from the place close to base or the other one?”

She hummed, eyes falling shut as she snuggled into his side. “Base please.”

Bob waited a few minutes before her breathing evened out and then gently untangled himself from her embrace.

After making sure she was properly tucked in for her nap, he grabbed his keys and wallet. He had a promise to make good on.

Next Day

“Dude, you should read them though, they’re actually pretty good. Not the writing but the story. Love triangle, vampires, werewolves and hybrid babies.” Rooster said through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

Phoenix snorted, rolling her eyes. “Not the most intriguing introduction, Roos.”

Bob watched as they jabbed back and forth, pushing his food around on his plate.

Hangman and Coyote sat down with their trays, interrupting the squabble happening across from Bob.

“What’s up?” Javy asked.

“Are you team Edward or team Jacob?” Rooster asked, completely serious.

Coyote’s eyebrows shot up, mouth pressed into a tight line. “Dude, are you talking about Twilight?”

“Yes! Bob watched the films with his girl and he doesn't want to read the books but I think they’re pretty good and Nat says they’re crap and now we gotta decide what team.” Bradley rambled, earning another smack to the side.

Javy stared them both down, an unimpressed look on his face. “I don’t like fantasy.”

“WHAT? Dishonour on you, dishonour on your family, dishonour on your cow!” Rooster dramatically gasped, clutching at his chest.

The entire table rolled their eyes at their teammates' dramatics, all of them now used to Bradley’s antics.

“Okay fine. I didn’t care enough to choose a team, the films were good and I’ve already read the books but don’t tell my girlfriend that. She’ll never let me live it down.” Bob spoke up, making Bradley smile.

“I knew it. Everyone has read those books, except Javy here, apparently.” Rooster announced proudly, reaching across the table to fist bump Bob.

“I personally am Team Bella. Neither Edward or Jacob were good for her. Jacob was an immature kid, not his fault, it’s just his character and Edward had issues. Real issues. The best thing for her would have been to get the hell out of Forks and work on becoming her own person.”

The entire table fell silent, staring at Jake who didn’t even look up from his plate. No one spoke for a few beats before Bradley began clapping like a seal, shit eating grin in place.

Bob shook his head as he reached for his phone, texting his girlfriend. She would enjoy the currently bizarre conversation that was taking place and maybe he could get out of book club if he mentioned that apparently both Rooster and Hangman were fans of the series.

Hangman and Rooster like Twilight.

Make them bring food and the books next time you invite them over.

PS, you’re still gonna read the books with me, pls.

Damn, he really thought he’d gotten away with reading the darn books again.

If you and I are going to have a book club, no one else is welcome.

How come??

Club activities are strictly taking place in the bedroom.

He sent off the last text quickly, before pocketing his phone and turning back to the conversation.

He didn’t receive an answer until he was scheduled to fly. There was a short message and a picture attached.

Fine.

And beneath the text was a picture partially obscuring the view of what seemed to be his girlfriend’s favourite lingerie set and all four books of the series.

Bob couldn’t wait to go home.

Taglist: @wildbornsiren @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster@notroosterbradshaw @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics @septemberrie @somenamewithepineapple @seresinsweetie @crescentwolf @seresinhangmanjake @waklman @roosterforme @rosiahills22 @dempy @i0veless @ilovewriting06 @kmc1989 @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

#fe writes #HAPPY BIRTHDAY HELENA #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction

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astrologylunadream · 7 months

Text

How They Want to Spend the Holidays With You 🛷⛄🧣 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Happy holidays!! It's Lunadream🥰 We're getting in the festive spirit with how your person imagines spending the holidays with you.🍫🤍 hope you find your message~✉

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the spending christmas with that special someone, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~♥️

Pile 1🎅🏻

Pile 2📍

Pile 3🎧

Pile 4☕

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🍫♡

Pile 1🎅🏻

Sign energy: Conflict, Lesson, Cold, Message, Reality, Mercury, Fire, Scorpio, Vertex, North node, 🚷🩹🧎‍♀️🗡

🧣Your person's energy: Alright for your person there are some very distant vibes, I feel like they don't get along with others the best. They have an intimidating way about them that others fear slightly, your person could easily start arguments with people accidentally🙊 They have a lot to learn when it comes to connecting with others through words, and the universe plans for them to learn many lessons most likely the hard way and through trial and error🥺 Virgo, Gemini and Scorpio could be possible placements. I'm getting that your person can be more cold with what they say, definitely don't sugar coat much.🚫🍰 Very straightforward and heavy attitude, which makes them very captivating though.🥴 Your person may have issues facing reality or dealing with matters that affect their future, they have a lot of inner conflict in their heads⚔💭💥 Now I'm totally seeing that this person is very forceful in their approach to communication, they tend to be very intense or blunt. But even though they tell it like it is, they aren't one for over sharing. Like, they have more of a "back off" mentality, and prefer to keep things to themselves. Could be introverted for some of you, I definitely see they aren't fond of many people but a few. For my pile 1's I'm seeing that your person seems to push you away and then pull you back strangely, very hard to read indeed🔍😳

🛷How they want to spend the holidays with you: Vulnerable, Competition, Crown, Comment, Jealousy, Libra, Chiron, Saturn, Juno, 3rd house, ♂️🍁🍋♨️ Okay my pile 1's this person is really possesive over you I just had to mention😭❤ They don't want anyone to take their place with you this year. Canada may be a place they want to spend the holidays with you, definitely dates I'm seeing. Your person imagines stepping foot in the snow with you all dressed in thick clothing, and briefly mentioning proposing to you as either a joke or a little hint🤭💍 I think your person really wants to spend the holidays with you knowing you could be committed to them, they want that deeply♥️ They honestly would hate it if any other potential love interests came in the picture for this time, they are very vulnerable to jealousy and possessiveness over you. They get very bitter and hurt if they feel like 2nd place to someone else I'm hearing. My pile 1's your person is very competitive to win your commitment, so they may imagine doing so during the holidays like finding cute and fun activities to impress you with.💗🤗 Omg like going to christmas cafes, shopping and driving you around to see the christmas lights together.✨ They want to become more successful and stable during this time simply to seem more like dependable/marriage material to you and also so they can buy you lots of gifts!!🥰🛍 I'm also hearing they want to be very hot and attractive for you haha like they're working on their body or appearance maybe as your little christmas present lol♡🎁😳

📮Messages from your person: Thinking of you, You must be desperate, You're mine forever, I'm always supporting you, I worry what people will think of us, I can't stop looking at you, You're too pretty to be sad this christmas, How are you so pretty? (AHH🤧♥️ So sweet oml) Extra cards: Foreign, Finger, Love letter, Explosion, Jawbone

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the santa emoji~🎅🏻 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🥰

Pile 2📍

Sign energy: Affection, Name, Violate, Care-taker, 9th house, Aquarius, Leo, South node, Uranus, Moon, 😰🧚‍♀️🧩🤚

🧣Your person's energy: Okay so the first thing I noticed is that your person could have a unique name, one that isn't common or spelled differently. They are pretty smart I'm hearing, and their method of learning things is quite odd but effective. This could be aqua moon but over all Aquarius placements, Sagittarius, Leo, and Cancer.😌 Your person is very sweet and kind, they empathize with others often. I feel like they are the kind to cry at the strangest time in a movie like it wasn't even that sad??😂😢 But their emotions work differently than most people's, like their reactions may be delayed or odd reasoning. Your person is so caring though♥️ People may tend to invade their personal space or business I'm getting, but they don't say anything to be nice.🥺 Definitely over empathize with people, I think more so in the past. Also the way they show love may be in strange ways, like they may study you if they find you interesting also being overly friendly buddy-buddy with you haha😂 I feel like that is how they express their love or interest in someone they like. Omg and people buzz around them like flies I'm getting, they may have people oddly involved in them. You may start out as friends with this person or that is the dynamic you would have, like friends who really care for eachother I feel like they really care for you!! Now your person may have put a stop to something that they used to do.. I'm called to say being too nice or letting others use them. People definitely took advantage of your person in the past or it feels that way to them. I think they allow invasive behavior they shouldn't out of pure sympathy for those people, they might be putting a stop to that now or at least trying.✊😊

🛷How they want to spend the holidays with you: Unheard, Cute, Inspiration, Violence, Practical, 10th house, 4th house, Pluto, Venus, Leo, 🎤☔👑🧛‍♂️ Ahh so your person wants to spend the holidays with you doing cute cozy things like decorating and spending quality time together😫😭 This is so cute, they would want to go somewhere nice and fancy but also very pretty!! Like somewhere iconic or recognizable from a movie📽♥️ Think grand and unforgettable. My pile 2's your person definitely wants to do cute stuff with you like making snowmen and all the old fashioned traditions🥰 I feel like they imagine a romance movie between you two like this is so much sweetness. My pile 2's they want to be inspired and unlock their creative side with you, aww I bet they want to write you a card too. Somewhere familiar and cozy like a cabin would be their dream with you, sipping on hot cocoa by the fire.☕🔥 They imagine watching cute vintage christmas movies and cuddling together, and then waiting for the perfect moment when you least expect it so they can hush you quietly and push you down to steal your kiss.💋 Now things would probably get really spicy between you two if it were up to them but we won't get in to all that😅😳 They really want a moment like that with you, somewhere quiet and well thought out. Like they would plan it all so perfectly for you, and they're just waiting to create those soft memories with you.🥺💌♥️ I think they currently feel it isn't achievable in some ways, but if there is ever the chance to do what they have in mind they would take it without hesitation. My pile 2's your person wants to make it real for you😍

📮Messages from your person: You leave me wondering, I left a mark on you, You are not alone, Stay positive, Soon, Calm down, What are you hiding? It's love at first sight. (Pile 2 yess!!💋) Extra cards: Cupid, Note, Star, Head, Top

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the red lollipop emoji~📍(it's actually a pin but y'know it had to match😂)Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💫

Pile 3🎧

Sign energy: November, Side effects, Home, Less, Nose, Taurus, Gemini, Venus, Lilith, Pluto, ♍🎸🤕🪓

🧣Your person's energy: Okay for my pile 3's your person sure has a lot going for them♡ May be born November or fall, Taurus, Gemini, Libra, Virgo or Scorpio placements. Very prominent Taurus energy for this pile!! Your person may have a noticable nose, I feel like they are insecure about their nose but it actually looks really good on them🥺♥️ They have a very clear and soothing voice, but also hot oml🥵 Like they could do ASMR and everyone would be obsessed😭😭 For some of you this person may not have family or a "safe place", they feel lost in some way. I feel they look really good in plaid, they may enjoy rock music or grunge. Listening to music heals them I'm hearing, they find it very pleasing and calming to their chaotic mind.🧠🎸 Your person may be harsh on themselves, also they take a lot of hits in life like they've been through so much.😢 Now my pile 3's your person has such an intense energy about them, it definitely makes them very attractive too. They have a huge effect on people's minds, especially feminines. People get obsessed easily with this person, and they don't even ask for it😫 I'll just say people definitely think your person is hot, they have this dark side to them that is so mysterious and eye catching. People talk about them behind their back and all. But what your person is really looking for is a safe place, something that is home to them.🏠

🛷How they want to spend the holidays with you: Fear, Outfit, Decision, Zoo, Limits, Sun, Eros, Pluto, 2nd house, Fire, 🥳😴😎🦴 Ohh they really want to go christmas shopping with you!! I'm surprised, like they are actually really sweet for my pile 3's🍫 They wanna buy matching outfits for the winter, letting you choose and all. But they do have their limits to what they can and cannot wear so they wouldn't just let you pick out everything for them.😂 They may want to go see winter animals with you like penguins, huskies and snow bears🐧🐺🐻🤍 Spending money on you is something they want to do, because it's truly their choice. I'm definitely seeing that my pile 3's you turn them on like they are actually so attracted to you omg!! They are secretly afraid of this attraction to you because you make them so obsessed.😳 Like just as they are intimidating to others you are intimidating to them😰♥️ Definitely a hot attraction to my pile 3's. They may stop themselves from fantasizing of you otherwise they could fall too deep into it, they really want to have control over you and your experiences this christmas. They wanna visit winter gardens with subtle slow music so you two can dance together, ohhh but they would definitely imagine feeling all over your body with that chance.😫🧤 Omg and they would want to see you in a classy white dress that fits you well, they're wanting neck kisses by the fire~💋 Eating out at a nice candle restaurant with expensive food to celebrate the season, ooh and enjoying a christmas party with you🍷 They have a fear of disappointing you, perhaps you have many expectations when it comes to the holidays each year so they feel it takes a lot to impress you. But trust me when I way they really would put in the effort if they could for you because oml they just want to make you pleased♥️

📮Messages from your person: If it's what you want, I can't stop, We're apart this christmas, I won't let you be with anyone else, Everything is real, I can't control you, It's awful, Tell me your secret wishes. Extra cards: Compliment, Cafe, Self love, Signs, Luck

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the earphones emoji~🎧 (idk why there isn't an earmuffs emoji yet but yeah🙄) Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading😘

Pile 4☕

Sign energy: Summer, Fluff, Touch, Creativity, Captive, Pluto, Fire, 3rd house, Mercury, Venus, 💔🦚🗻🚨

🧣Your person's energy: There is so much softness to this pile♥️ Okay we have some creative vibes for your person, they have a very artistic mind. This could be someone you met in the summer, or ended the relationship at that time. For others this person may be born in summer☀️ Scorpio, Virgo, Gemini, Taurus, and Libra Libra placements. Possible mercury-Venus aspects. You are stuck on this person, and they may be stuck on you. Long distance or something is keeping you apart, but over all they are distant with you. My pile 4's for some reason your person is agitated that you are thinking of them, because they want what's best for you. Part of them hopes for you to stop loving them for your sake, but they also don't want to let go.😢 You think of their touch sometimes and it causes you to overthink. (They have a siren's touch)🤯❗ Your person is very magnetic and their love captivates you, but your attraction to them can take you over sometimes. They are cute and gorgeous, but they also make you lovesick I'm hearing.🥺♡ They have a soft touch to them, may be more soft spoken or at least with you. My pile 4's are a little obsessed with this person, but you can't help it!!😫😭 You love the way they speak, like they word things in such a pretty format💕 Your person may have specific feminine's obsessed with their beauty and charms. They have very kissable lips I'm hearing. Often wear outfits that stand out and may enjoy wearing fluffy winter clothing.

🛷How they want to spend the holidays with you: Off, Purpose, Special, Break, Reality, Chiron, 12th house, Aquarius, 6th house, 11th house, 🆕️🤵🍒🦴 Ohh okay so your person is really worried about your hopes this year, they don't want to let you down. But they definitely have something in mind with you♥️ They want to break routine and spend the holidays in an abnormal unique way, I'm definitely seeing that your person wants to facetime with you for christmas.🎄 They wish they could send you cute messages and tell you "happy holidays!"🤗🎉 They want to spend christmas with you even in separation, if only to connect on a soul level to spend this special time with you.✨ It is hard for them to know you miss them, and want to spend the holidays in their presence. They really want your wishes to come true, to be there for you.🥺💝 They want to spend the holidays connecting on a higher level, through spiritual contact can they give you their warmth and love for christmas. Who knows, maybe they may even appear in your winter dreams as a little christmas gift to you~💌 How sweet, They want to do something meaningful for you. Something that will heal you, and keep you going. Spending the holidays at a festive gathering with you, giving you hope and cheer is all they want to do. They want this year to be a fantasy for you, and they imagine making christmas crafts, immersing yourselves into christmas movies, and exploring the winter wonderland together.☃️☁️🤍 I'm melting like a snowman this is so cute.

📮Messages from your person: Things aren't going that way, I don't look at other people, I'm mad at you, I hate that I love you, You should stop, Would a kiss be enough? I love when you get shy, I want to be with you. (Aww😍💕💌) Extra cards: Kabedon, Structure, Mermaid, Phase, Endless

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!♥️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the hot cocoa emoji~☕ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗

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Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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