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catchastarorten · 6 months ago

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—More than anything.

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x lover!fem!reader

Summary: You had supported him through everything, but when you fell sick, he couldn't save you because of debt, so he participated in the games. The blood, the violence, it was all worth it because it was all for you, but he still couldn’t save you, even after winning.

Warnings: angst, illness, death, grief/loss, mentions of violence, guilt/sacrifice, emotional distress, Sang-woo won the games in this au, english isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: ~ 1.9k

The first time you met Sang-woo, it was in the bustling hallways of Seoul National University, your books pressed against your chest as he nearly toppled over you in his haste. Apologies poured out of him, flustered but composed, but it was the soft smile that followed that made you pause. You didn’t know it then, but that clumsy encounter would change both of your lives forever.

From that moment, he had become everything to you. And soon enough, you realized you were everything to him too. Sang-woo was the kind of man who always seemed in control of himself. But with you, that cool demeanor softened. He would laugh more, touch your hand absentmindedly, watch you as if you were the only thing in the world worth looking at.

You supported each other through the tough years at university. His mind was brilliant—quick, sharp, and endlessly determined. It wasn’t hard to see why he was the pride of his family, the hope of his mother. He was going to do great things, you always believed that, and you reminded him every chance you got.

Sang-woo always spoke of a future where he’d be successful, where his mother would never have to work a day in her life again. And somewhere in that future—he said with a tentative smile—was you.

Years passed, and the challenges of adulthood crept in. Sang-woo’s ambitions, once so pure and noble, became entangled in desperation as he fell into debt. It started small—a few bad investments, a loan here and there, promises that he’d make it all back soon. But soon, the debts piled into something worse, a mess that loomed over both of your lives.

He had so much promise, so much potential, and you wanted to see him succeed. So when he started to falter—when the world wasn’t as kind, when the debts began to gather up, and his once-unshakable confidence began to fracture—you did what you thought any partner would do. You helped him.

You saw the way the guilt ate away at him. He tried to hide it, but you knew him too well.

“I’ll pay off this part for now,” you’d told him gently, holding the bank statement in your hand. He had stared at you, his expression tight, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white.

“No,” he had said firmly. “You’ve done enough. I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”

But you didn’t care about that. You knew he felt ashamed, that his pride was bleeding, but you loved him too much to let him drown. “Sang-woo,” you whispered, reaching out to place your hand over his. “I’m doing this because I want to. Because I believe in you.”

He looked at you like you were his lifeline, the only light in his darkening world. He kissed your hand and said nothing more, but no matter how much you reassured him, the guilt lingered. He began to withdraw, the weight of his mistakes crushed him.

Then, as if the universe wasn’t cruel enough, you fell ill. It started with fatigue and a persistent ache in your chest. You brushed it off at first, telling yourself that it was just stress, but when the symptoms worsened, you finally went to the hospital.

The diagnosis was a gut punch. The doctors spoke in clinical terms, but all Sang-woo heard at the moment was that it was serious. You needed treatment, the treatment was possible, but expensive.

The hospital bills mounted quickly. You had always lived sparingly, but this was different. The treatment you needed was far beyond what either of you could afford, especially with Sang-woo already drowning in debt. You had tried to remain strong, tried to reassure him even when your body weakened and the days became harder to endure.

But Sang-woo wasn’t strong. At least not in the way you were. He didn't want to put up the pretense of having a "perfect" reputation anymore, he just wanted you.

One night, as you lay in your hospital bed, pale and shivering despite the blankets covering you, he dropped to his knees beside you. He gripped your hand so tightly it hurt, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

“I’ll get the money,” he said, his voice trembling with determination. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, you saw the man you loved falling apart. His face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot, guilt and desperation consuming him.

“Sang-woo,” you whispered, your heart breaking for him. For both of you. “I’ll be okay... don’t do anything reckless.”

But he shook his head, his jaw set in that stubborn way you’d come to know so well. He pressed his lips to your forehead, a lingering, desperate kiss.

“I’ll come back,” he said. “With the money. Just hold on for me.”

You wanted to believe him, but as you watched him walk away, a part of you knew that he was heading down a dangerous path.

At first, you tried to think light. You thought he had simply left to clear his head. Maybe he was meeting someone to talk about loans or some other last-ditch effort to save you. But then the days turned into weeks, and Sang-woo didn’t return.

You tried calling him, but his phone went unanswered. You asked the nurses, his mother, even some of his old university friends, but no one had seen him. You didn’t know whether to be angry, scared, or heartbroken. All you knew was that he wasn’t here, and you were running out of time.

The nurses came and went, offering kind smiles and gentle reassurances, but it wasn’t enough. What you needed—what you wanted—was him, by your side.

You missed his voice, his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand and promise you that everything would be okay. You told yourself that he was out there fighting for you, but as the days stretched on, doubt began to creep in.

In your quieter moments, you wondered if he’d given up on you. If the burden had become too much and he just left without a trace. But deep down, you knew Sang-woo. You knew how much he loved you, how determined he could be. He’d find a way back to you. He had to.

In your final days, you thought about him often. You tried to convince yourself that he had a plan, that he would come rushing through the hospital doors at any moment with that look on his face, telling you everything was going to be okay, that you could heal properly now. But he didn’t.

Instead, you were left with an empty chair by your bedside, your heart aching with the absence of the man you loved more than anything in the world.

On the last night, you couldn’t fight the tears anymore. You whispered into the quiet room—“I just wish you were here.” Your voice cracked, and you closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion finally take over. You dreamed of him one last time—of the way he smiled when you first met, of his hand in yours, of the warmth that had once filled your life.

What you didn’t know—what you couldn’t know—was what Sang-woo was enduring.

He had entered the games through a salesman with a suitcase and a card with a number on the back. The games were a deadly competition where the stakes were higher than anything he’d ever faced. Life and death were decided in brutal, messed up versions of childhood games.

At first, he told himself he was doing it for you, for the money that could save your life. But as the games progressed, as blood stained his hands and the faces of those he’d sacrificed haunted his dreams, the lines began to blur.

How much of himself was he willing to lose to save you?

Every decision, every betrayal he made, weighed on him. He thought of you constantly, your smile a light in the darkness. When he felt the weight of his actions crushing him, he clung to the hope that he could still save you. That he could win, come back to you, and make everything right, no matter how exhausted he was, no matter how much pain he had to endure, it was all for you. Because how could he call himself a man—your man—if he couldn't even keep you by his side? If he couldn't even get the money to save you and have you in his arms again, healthy and full of life?

When Sang-woo finally emerged from the games, clutching the blood money that was counted from each of the lifeless bodies of the other players, he felt hollow. His actions, the lives he’d taken, the people he’d betrayed—all of it threatened to suffocate him. But he pushed it aside. None of it mattered now. All that mattered was you.

He rushed to the hospital, his heart pounding in his chest. He imagined the look on your face when he walked through the door, how you’d smile and tell him that he’d always been your hero. And for the first time since the games, he smiled. He smiled.

But when he reached your room, he froze, and everything inside him seemed to shatter.

You were still, too still. Your chest didn't rise or fall, your lips were pale, and your eyes—those eyes he had loved so much—were closed forever.

The nurse had pity in her eyes as she approached him. "I'm sorry... she passed away a few hours prior. We... we tried calling you, but..."

“No,” he choked out, he staggered to your bedside, falling to his knees onto the mattress of the bed, his hands reaching for you. “No, no, no… please, no…”

He pulled you into his arms, cradling your lifeless body as tears streamed down his face. “Wake up,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please, wake up. I have the money now. I did it. I got it for you. You can get better now. Please, just… open your eyes.”

But you didn't. You couldn't.

“I got the money,” he whispered, tears falling from his eyes. “I have it. We can pay for your treatment now. You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay…”

Sang-woo's hand trembled as he cupped your face. Your skin was cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth he remembered. He pressed his forehead to yours, the card that contained all the prize money laid forgotten on the floor, a cruel reminder of what he had to sacrifice to save you—of the blood, the death, and the lives he had destroyed in those games. He had told himself it was all for you, that he could endure anything if it meant seeing you smile again. But now, as he held your cold body in his arms, he realized it had all been for nothing.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve been here. I should’ve stayed with you. I thought… I thought I could save you.”

He had done everything he could to save you, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. And now, he was left with nothing, because you had been his everything.

#sang woo #cho sang woo #cho sang woo x reader #sang woo x reader #cho sangwoo #squid game #cho sangwoo x reader #squid game imagine #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #player 218 #squid game fic #squid game season 1 #player 218 x reader #cho sang woo x female reader

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colouredbyd · 3 months ago

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“Tell Me You Will Believe Me”

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary: Your visions as a Seer used to be harmless—until they turned dark. Now, you find yourself caught between protecting the people you love and the terrifying truth only you can see.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: emotional abuse, graphic violence, dark themes, angst, betrayal, emotional withdrawal, mental health struggles (anxiety, depression), trauma, past trauma, death of a loved one, remus being a sweetheart, visions of future tragedy, so much hurt/comfort, LOTS of angst but then happy ending <3

authors note: i should be studying but this idea has been on my mind for weeks so i decided to just write it, enjoy the major angst with comfort. Im trying to test my skills, idk should i do part 2 or leave the ending like this?

part 2 masterlist

It started slowly. Almost imperceptibly.

At first, you skipped breakfast. Said you’d meet them later in class. You didn’t.

Then you stopped holding Sirius’s hand in the hallways. Your fingers used to seek his like a reflex—lacing together as naturally as breath. Until one day, his hand brushed yours and you flinched, pretending not to notice. He didn’t say anything, just shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away.

You stopped waiting for James after class too. Where once you leaned against the wall with a playful grin, teasing him about being late, now you left as soon as the bell rang. “Thought you’d already gone,” you’d lie, when he showed up confused and breathless, eyes searching the corridor for you.

You started skipping Hogsmeade weekends, claiming migraines, unfinished essays, fatigue. “I’ll just stay in and rest,” you’d say, brushing kisses onto their cheeks like goodbyes. “You go. Have fun my love.”

They noticed, of course. The boys weren’t blind.

But you were clever.

You still smiled when spoken to. Still said “love you” back. Still sat beside them at meals—even if you barely touched your food, barely looked up, barely breathed. You learned how to be present without being there. An echo. A ghost in your own skin.

The boys watched you like you were slipping underwater, helpless to stop it.

One evening, James sat beside you on the Gryffindor common room couch, his voice low and joking, “You’ve got this whole ‘mysterious tragic poet’ thing going on lately baby. Should we be worried?”

You forced a laugh. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “We miss you.”

“I’m right here, Jamie,” you whispered.

The smell of fire, of burning flesh. Someone’s laugh twists into a scream that ends too fast.

But you weren’t. Not really.

“Take her and RUN, Sirius!” Remus roars, storming forward and grabbing him by the collar, shoving him back like the fire behind him hasn’t already started swallowing everything whole. “NOW!”

There’s blood in Remus’s mouth when he speaks, on his hands when he clutches Sirius, on his temple where something struck too hard, too fast. His lips are trembling but his eyes are terrifying—brighter than the firelight. They burn with something final.

“Moony—” Sirius chokes, voice hoarse with panic, tears already rising. “I can’t—”

“THERE’S NO TIME!” Remus howls, like it’s killing him to say it. “You don’t look back. You don’t come back. You take her and you fucking run, do you hear me? You keep her safe—Sirius, please—

“Hey hey hey pretty girl, look at me breathe for me come on.”

Sirius’s voice breaks through your fog. He’s kneeling in front of you now, his dark eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Dorca and Peter are there too, hovering close by, their faces twisted in worry. They’re all looking at you, their concern thick in the air.

“Are you alright?” Remus asks, voice soft, but there’s something underlying—something urgent in his tone. He crouches beside you, his eyes searching for an answer you don’t have.

You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. You feel pathetic having a panic attack infront of everyone. The vision’s weight is still on your chest, pressing down on you, suffocating you. It feels like the whole world is closing in.

Sirius looks like he might reach for you, but he hesitates, as if afraid to touch you. The intensity of the moment hangs heavy in the air. “You’re scaring me princess.” he says quietly, eyes softening.

And for the first time in days, you feel something like a tremor in your chest—like the weight of their love, their worry, is finally sinking in.

“please just hold me.” you hiccup through sobs, your voice sounding too small, too fragile. But the words feel hollow in your mouth.

And they do, they hold you until you feel safe enough.

It was Remus who saw through it first.

He’d catch you staring into the fire too long. Flinching when the wind howled against the castle windows. He noticed your fingers trembling when you thought no one was looking. The way your hands hovered just above the boys’ shoulders when they leaned in—like you wanted to touch them, like you were afraid to.

“Are you alright, dove?” he whispered one night, his hand brushing your arm.

You blinked, startled. You hadn’t even noticed him sit beside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, too brightly. “Just tired.”

He didn’t believe you. He never did.

But he let you go.

After that, everything became quieter, not the visions though. They got worse, more clear, and more horrifying.

You stopped calling Sirius by his stupid nicknames. No more “Padfoot,” no more “Starboy.” Just “Sirius,” plain and clipped.

You forgot James’s birthday. The guilt nearly ate you alive, even as you watched him pretend not to be disappointed.

You stopped reading with Remus at night. Once, you’d fall asleep curled against his chest while he read aloud, voice soft and warm against your temple. Now, you claimed headaches. Stayed in your bed. Doors locked.

They started whispering when they thought you couldn’t hear.

“She doesn’t laugh anymore,” James murmured one night.

“I think she’s scared,” Sirius replied. “Of what, I don’t know.”

“Us?” Remus said quietly.

“They know. They know, James—run!” and then footsteps and a crash and nothing.

A golden ring in a pool of blood. The sound of Sirius sobbing into Remus’s shirt. “They said she was dead. They said—”

Remus’s breath on your neck. “Run.”

Smoke curling under a door you don’t recognize.

The sound of chains dragging across stone. Always the chains.

Blood on parchment.

Your name scrawled across it again and again and again.

You pretended you were asleep, but your pillow was wet.

Until one night, Sirius finally snapped.

You were halfway through dinner in the Great Hall when he slammed his goblet down and growled, “Alright, what the hell’s going on with you?”

You blinked, startled.

“You don’t look at us anymore,” he hissed. “You don’t touch us. You barely speak. If you want to leave, just say so, but stop pretending everything’s fine.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you said, voice breaking.

“You already have.”

And when you looked at him—really looked—you saw it: the shadow of his future, the one you’d dreamed a hundred times. Screaming behind bars. Eyes hollow.

You turned away. “Please. Just let it go.”

And he did. Because even angry, Sirius would always choose you. Always love you, even when it tore him apart.

Then weeks turned into a month.

Then a month turned into two.

And you kept fading—slowly, quietly, like death by a thousand unspoken words.

Until Remus couldn’t take it anymore.

Until that night in the library when he found you curled into yourself like a broken star, and you shattered in his arms and told him everything.

You were in the library at nearly midnight—eyes hollow, curled in the farthest back corner like you were trying to vanish into the stone.

You didn’t hear Remus at first.

But suddenly, he was there—standing in front of you, pale and shaking, with something desperate in his eyes.

“You’re done hiding.”

His voice trembled. You looked up, startled.

“I tried to give you space,” he said quietly. “I tried to trust you. Its been two months and 4 days (Y/n). I can’t anymore. You’re fading right in front of me. And I don’t care how much you lie and pretend you’re okay—you’re not.”

You stood too fast, the chair scraping behind you. “Please, just let it go rem.”

“No, dammit!” he snapped. “You shut us out. You stopped letting us love you. You look at James like you’re already mourning him. You look at Sirius like he’s glass. And you haven’t looked at me like anything in weeks.”

Your hands were shaking. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t want protection, I want you!” he shouted.

The silence that followed was deafening.

His eyes were glistening. “Tell me what’s happening. Even if it hurts. Even if it ruins everything. Please.”

You stared at him, throat tightening, vision blurring.

Remus’s hands trembled as they gently cupped your face, his eyes searching yours for answers. The weight of everything was pressing down on him now, and he could feel the tension in your body, the way you were holding yourself back.

“Please, just tell me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, pleading. “I need to know, I need to understand what’s happening to you.”

You closed your eyes, tears brimming, throat tight with the truth you couldn’t bear to say. You’d been holding it in for so long, the fear, the guilt. It was all too much.

“Tell me you will believe me,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Please. Tell me you will believe me.”

Remus’s breath hitched at your words, his grip on your face tightening slightly as if to pull you closer to him, as if to anchor himself to you. His heart was racing now, but his voice was steady. “I will,” he promised, his voice raw with desperation. “I believe you. I always will.”

You sank to the floor, legs giving out, and he followed, arms catching you before you could crumble completely. And then, for the first time in weeks, you told someone the truth.

“I’ve been having visions.”

He froze, but didn’t speak.

The words hung in the air between you like a spell. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t face his eyes yet. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, but then Remus exhaled like he had been holding his breath too, his hands moving to hold yours tightly.

“What do you mean? Visions?” His voice was filled with concern, but there was something else there—something dark, like he already knew this wasn’t just a simple problem. This wasn’t something you could brush off with a shrug and a laugh.

You pulled your hands away, holding them against your chest, as if protecting yourself from the storm you knew was about to break.

“It’s like—I see things. Fragments. Pieces. But they’re never in order, Remus.” Your voice broke, and you cursed yourself for sounding so weak, for not being able to keep it together just a little longer. “Sometimes, I’m in them. Sometimes, I’m not. But it’s always horrible. Always the same. It’s—it’s the end, Remus. The end of all of us.”

Remus’s eyes never left you. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t say a word, but his face twisted with confusion and concern, his brow furrowed like he was trying to make sense of the puzzle you were handing him.

“The night we’re all going to die,” you continued, your throat raw. “I’ve seen it, over and over again. I—I see James… He’s screaming. I see Sirius… He’s… he’s not himself. And you’re—” You stopped yourself, unable to finish the sentence, the emotion too raw to put into words. “You’re not there. You’re gone, Remus. And it’s my fault.”

Remus’s face went pale as he absorbed what you were saying, his jaw tightening with the weight of your words. He reached out, his fingers grazing your arm, but you jerked back, your heart racing as you continued, desperate to say it all before it consumed you.

“I’m not always there, but when I am… It’s like I’m not even alive. I watch from some place far away. Sometimes, I see myself dead.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. “I see James and Sirius, and I—God, I can’t breathe. I just… I can’t fix it, Remus. I can’t stop it. There’s a traitor, someone in our circle, someone close, and they’re going to betray us. James dies, Sirius gets blamed. They throw him in Azkaban… And I—I get taken, or worse.”

Remus’s hand reached out, but you flinched away, guilt and fear flooding your chest. You couldn’t look at him anymore. You couldn’t look at anyone, not with this knowledge hanging over you.

“I’ve been pushing you all away,” you whispered. “I’m scared, Remus. I’m terrified. I’ve been trying to protect you, to protect all of you. But I can’t stop what’s coming. I can’t stop it. And it’s eating me alive. I’m watching all of us die and I can’t do anything about it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You were already too weak. Too broken. You couldn’t bear to show him any more of your fragility.

“Please, Remus, you have to promise me—promise me you won’t tell them.” Your voice was barely a whisper now, a plea. “Not yet. Not until we know what to do. I don’t know how to stop it, but I have to try. I have to do something, and I can’t do it alone.”

His hand was trembling as he cupped your face, lifting it so that you had no choice but to meet his eyes. His gaze was filled with so much pain, but also an understanding that shattered you further.

“Don’t ever think you’re alone in this, dove,” he whispered. “I’m with you. Always. We’ll find a way to stop it.”

You collapsed into his arms then, the sobs you’d been holding in finally breaking free. He held you tight, letting you cry it all out, his hand rubbing your back in comforting circles.

When the tears subsided, he whispered into your head, “ I believe you, dove.”

And in that moment, you finally allowed yourself to believe it too—believe that together, you might still have a chance to rewrite the ending.

The days that followed were desperate, and the sense of dread hung thick in the air.

The Marauders—Sirius, James, and Remus—refused to leave your side. Remus spent hours with you, pushing you to strengthen your Occlumency, your focus unwavering as he guided you through each mental block. His presence was a steady reassurance, though the unspoken tension between you both never quite lifted. The weight of what you’d seen in that vision was suffocating, and you had to push yourself to stay strong for them. For him.

Every moment, every glance you exchanged with your boyfriends felt charged with the weight of a looming secret. You knew things were changing, but you couldn’t tell them yet. Not until you knew the truth.

And so, you turned to your studies, hoping that if you immersed yourself in magic, in spells that might give you a fighting chance, the gnawing fear would subside.

It was a normal evening. The fire crackled merrily in the common room, casting a warm, golden glow over the four of you. Sirius sprawled out on the couch, teasing James as he flicked through a Quidditch magazine, his signature grin pulling at the corners of his lips. James was laughing, leaning over to nudge Sirius, while you and Remus sat across from them, trying to hold onto a semblance of normalcy.

For a fleeting moment, everything felt right. Remus caught your eye from across the room, and his lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. You returned it, but deep inside, the unease never fully disappeared.

“So, how’s the study session going baby?” Sirius asked, turning his head lazily toward you.

“It’s… fine siri.” you replied, your voice betraying none of the storm inside you. “Just trying to get through all this Occlumency nonsense.”

Remus laughed softly, his gaze never straying from you. “You’re doing great. You’re stronger than you think.”

James grinned. “You’re both scary smart,” he said with a wink. “I’ve been trying to catch up, but it’s been a slow process.”

Sirius chuckled, his usual mischievous energy making it feel like everything was just as it should be.

But then, in the blink of an eye, the room seemed to shift.

The dizziness hit first, so sudden you barely had time to brace yourself. Your vision blurred, and a rush of cold air washed over you. You pressed a hand to your temple, trying to steady yourself, but it was no use.

It wasn’t just dizziness. It was like the world itself was slipping away, replaced by something darker. A vision.

The world is suffocating—darkness swallowing everything.

The air is thick with screams—raw, guttural, pleading.

James’s glasses fall, shattered into pools of red.

The earth is drenched, soaked with fear, with blood, with everything you never wanted to know.

“Run!” Sirius’s voice cracks as he yanks you forward

You hear Remus, pleading, begging—

“Please, don’t look back. Just go!”

The air is heavy with the crack of spells, the sickening sound of bones breaking.

Sirius’s grip is all you have left to hold on to. You feel the weight of everything pressing down on you, but his voice is a lifeline.

“We need to go NOW.” You don’t look back, but you hear it. That scream.

James.

It’s not just a scream. It’s the sound of everything breaking. The sound of life ending.

It rips through you, through all of you, tearing something deep inside that you can’t even name.

Remus’s eyes lock with yours for a brief second, and in them, you see everything: fear, love, regret. “Don’t look back,” Remus’s voice is barely a whisper,

The screams keep coming, one after the other. A storm of death and pain. Then, the worst sound of all.

Remus.

You hear him cry out—no, not cry out—begging. His voice breaking, splintering as if his very soul is being torn apart.

The sound cuts through the air like a knife, a desperate plea for mercy that doesn’t come.

The trees are closing in, but you can’t outrun the screams. You can’t outrun what’s happening.

Sirius stumbles, dragging you with him, but you both know it’s too late.

The ground is shaking now, trembling with the weight of death.

Something moves in the distance. Something that’s always been there, lurking, watching.

It’s him.

You hear the soft whisper of a name in your mind, but you don’t believe it.

The world stops.

The truth crashes through you, breaking you wide open.

The traitor.

The one you trusted.

The one who sold them out.

Everything you thought you knew is shattered.

Gasping for air, chest heaving, you felt the pressure of hands on your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Hey—hey, stay with me. You’re okay.”

It was Remus. His voice was strained with worry. But it didn’t make sense. None of it did.

The world was still spinning, and the faces around you were all blurry—except for one. The one that you couldn’t pull your eyes away from.

Peter was standing by the door. His eyes were unreadable.

And in that moment, you knew.

“Peter.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it hit the room like thunder.

Remus’s grip tightened, his voice full of panic. “What are you saying? What do you mean?”

But you couldn’t answer. Your mind was reeling from the truth. The betrayal that had been right in front of you all along.

It was Peter.

#poly!marauders x reader #marauders era #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders fic #sirius black x reader #peter pettigrew #poly!marauders x reader angst #poly!marauders x reader fluff #sirius black angst #remus lupin angst #james potter angst

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11cupids-tarot11 · 9 months ago

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Pile 1- Nine of Cups, Knight of Swords, Nine of Coins, Seven of Coins, The Emperor, Knight of Wands, and Queen of Wands.

Hi my pile 1 pookies ><

So this person hesitated a lot and although I usually do my readings starting off with pile 1 they made me skip them and work on pile 2's and 3's first instead? I think this person is really nervous about something. Kind of in a cute anxious way like 😅 but I had to listen because no cards would come out no matter how hard or long I shuffled. What's with this person? 🥴😭

Alright so this person feels very watery and emotional about you, I think their very thing about sex with you is definitely when you're on top, taking control. I think they really like the intimacy of the positions like cow girl or reverse cowgirl, they really like when you straddle their lap in general even when you two aren't having sex and just chilling on the couch. They really like watching your face as you ride them, they like watching your body move against them, they have the perfect view of you they said lol how cute eek ><

So if you don't want kids, that's okay, it's just in this person's fantasies they want to fuck you til the point the two of you actually want to take the condom off or maybe you both forget you have to pull out because you're both so emersed in pleasure and fucking each other? They want to get you pregnant but in such a wild way, they might not actually be ready for a kid yet, but the idea of it excites them so much they're hoping that you feel the same way and also want to have their babies.

This won't resonate with everyone but I'm picking up on a situation where you guys could already be married or just have children together already, this person could really like making babies with you, the sex that leads up to all, all the love that went into it!!

I think this person really enjoys angry sex, when you're mad at them and they get off their high horse and apologize first and they love to make up with sex afterwards, this person kinda just caves cause they love you and don't really want you to stay mad at them.

This person also likes it when you surprise them with sex, they love foreplay, they really like it when you two draw out sex and don't give it to each other right away, lots of teasing and just being playful until maybe you or them starts begging the other to do something more. I think this is partially because they really like spending time with you, this is only one of their favorite ways to spend quality time with you.

So this person could be a coworker or you might meet through work, something about business here. This person right now is at the top of their career, likes to present themselves as an Emperor. This person could really want to move forward in the connection with you if you know of them already, they're brainstorming lol. They really like you, they see you as a queen in their eyes, you could present yourself very carefully, like you have this clean look about you and you're pretty I heard! You take good care of yourself and your person really loves that about you! They're bananas for you? They said some cute cheesey pick up line or maybe a punch line that I'm unfamiliar with? ><

♡ Messages from them: "The way I have treated you was wrong."

"You are so different from everyone around me."

"You've triggered me."

"I can't handle your love."

I hope you enjoyed this reading!!

Pile 2- Seven of Cups, Three of Cups, Knight of Swords, Two of Pentacles, Seven of Coins, The Empress, and Ace of Chalices.

Hi my pile 2's!

So right away I feel like there's a message here for someone that you might know of this person already, that won't be for everyone so if it doesn't fit let it fly 🪽

So your future spouse might like how different you are in the bedroom than you are irl. Like you could come off as very shy or just someone that's not very kinky and your future spouse might've perceived you as inexperienced but your person loves it when you surprise them, take the lead and I'm hearing ride them lol. They like it when you're more dominant in bed, you don't have to be the dom every time but your person loves it when you are, they'll love for you to ride them until your thighs give out lol.

This person loves close sex, sex that's very emotional and clingy to one another. I think this person will have an emotional attachment to you, like even if you don't get married in 20 years this person will love you literally the same, even if you decide to take a break, this person will still carry so much love and respect for you! They love showing you how much they care for you during sex, they'll hold you a lot, and take the lead in bed most of the time to show you, they're very emotional when it comes to you. You guys might like to have sex in bed a lot, during the day, first waking up, because your person loves being close to you. I feel like they might like it when you lay there a lot while they give you oral, they love it when you're a pillow princess and they can bring you so much pleasure.

This person loves rough sex with you, the kinda sex the two of you can't keep your hands off each other and just can't get enough. They'll still be mindful and gentle with you, they love it when you communicate your needs and let them know what you want, they'll want to indulge in your kinks and make your fantasies happen, this person is safe to explore with. I think they might like to spank you if you're open to the idea! They're not super into bdsm but they're not vanilla either, I feel like this person actually wants to see how freaky you can get and they'd just match your freak so the sex will be better and better, it's never the same really, this person can be soft one night and super rough and wild another.

This person could love missionary a lot, bringing you to an orgasm in missionary so they can see your face, they could just love seeing you orgasm in general, in pure bliss beneath them, it's like it turns them on knowing they're the ones making you feel good. This person also likes that you're an Empress, you can stand your own ground with or without a significant other, they could love to watch you masturbate. I think this person loves chasing after you, it could turn them on lol! They love the idea of pleasing you, impressing you. They really want you lol how cute.

♡ Messages from them: "I know that we have a soul connection."

"I fantasize about you."

"They will never compare to you."

"You deserve better than them."

I hope you enjoyed this reading!!

Pile 3- Four of Pentacles, King of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, The Lovers, Three of swords, Page of Coins, and Three of Cups.

Hi pile 3!

So right away I heard a funny little message that this person actually likes it when you yell at them, they said it in a hushed way so I feel like this person doesn't want you to actually know that 😭 lol, this person will do all kinds of things just to see you a bit angry and frustrated with them just because they find it hot? Kinda sadistic if you ask me 🥴

Your future spouse is kind of a wild card, but you might be too. I think you wouldn't imagine in a million years to settle down with this person because they always feel like they're on the move and really hard to stay in one place because they're constantly thinking of other things to do, they're very work oriented or something but I feel like at first they might not pay much attention to the relationship, they might even go as far as seeing other people but this is only in the beginning of the relationship obviously, this person will feel very drawn to you and will feel like you're they're missing puzzle piece, suddenly they don't have to be on the move anymore because no one is as interesting as you to them, you'll fill their senses I'm hearing! They'll just suddenly be so enamored with you.

I think when the two of you are intimate this person will become selfish, they'll only want you to come to them for everything, they'll really want to be your knight in shining armor, even during sex, this person will be all touchy and very sensual, they like having passionate sex with you, even if they are usually rougher you've made this person want to be all soft with you, maybe not during the whole time, but this person will definitely slow down suddenly and start giving you slower and deeper strokes, they love intimacy with you and just want to savor the moment and make sure the both of you will remember it, they want you coming back to them for more and only them. Even if this connection starts as friends with benefits this person would slowly come to hate the title, and realize they're scared of you choosing someone else over them because the title isn't permanent enough.

This person could really want to rip the clothes off you, they could rip your underwear right off you and it might surprise you. This person really loves your breasts, regardless of size they really like to suck on your nipples.

This person likes when you let down your guards for them, it could be a flex for them that they actually get to touch you in a way that this person admires you a lot and in their head they're yelling at themselves like "omg I can't believe I get to sleep with THEM, THEY'RE ACTUALLY ALLOWING ME TO???848&(_(_(&!'(&(!_(" This person thinks you're adorable, they just adore you! You could catch them staring at you a lot, like a puppy with big ol puppy dog eyes, it's the sweetest thing ever.

Even if you don't like this person the first time around or something happens that you two decide to break it off, this person would try really hard to come back around, I heard they love you even after you break their heart.

With the Page of Coins I feel like this person is actively working on the things in their life right now, all the things they want to get done they're getting done, they might be a student and they could be focused on studying a lot right now as well, but I feel like this person can't wait for the day this all pays off and they can finally reconnect with not only themselves but with friends as well, they could be in a moment of isolation right now because they're so busy studying or working.

They feel sad and lonely and their favorite thing about sex with you is being with you, they want emotional and healing sex with you, just to be close and feel the warmth of you, something about not feeling as lonely anymore with the comfort of you. :(

♡ Messages from them: "I feel lonely."

"I don't want to be alone."

"Emotions overwhelm me."

"I am better with my mind than my heart."

I hope you enjoyed this reading!!

#pac love reading #pac tarot #pick a card #spirituality #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarot messages #tarot love reading #18+ tarot #18+ channeled messages #18+ pac #18+ pick a card

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writingbuckets · 5 months ago

Text

𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧-𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

paige bueckers x reader

wc: 6.8k

synopsis: Y/N and Paige Bueckers are caught in a tense moment after Paige’s jealousy and neglect come to a head. With emotions running high, both struggle to navigate their complicated feelings, forcing them to confront the future of their relationship.

warnings: angst, jealousy, explicit sexual content, slight manipulation, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, slight violence (physical restraint)

a/n: i present to you... jealous paige bc this is one of my favorite tropes literally ever! this was 16 pages on google docs so i apologize for that, gonna go through all my posts and add warnings to them so i shall see you later <3

You’re sprawled out on your bed, limbs heavy against the soft blanket, phone clutched in one hand. The screen casts a faint glow in the dim room, illuminating the furrow of frustration etched into your brow. Your thumb idly scrolls through your message thread with Paige—a barren wasteland of unanswered texts. Each message feels like a tiny stone dropped into the pit of your stomach, adding to the growing weight.

Monday

Hey, how’d practice go? You alive?

Wednesday

I know you’re busy, but can we talk soon? Paige?

Friday

Cool. Guess I’ll take the hint.

You sigh heavily, locking your phone and tossing it onto the bed beside you. The device bounces slightly before settling face down, but your mind refuses to let it go. A sharp buzz suddenly cuts through the silence, jolting your heart into a sprint. For a fleeting moment, hope flickers. You snatch up the phone, only for disappointment to flood in when Jasmine’s name lights up the screen instead.

You swipe to answer, switching to speaker and tossing it back on the bed. “What’s up, Jas?” you say, your tone flat and lacking its usual warmth.

“Clearly not you,” Jasmine replies, her voice teasing but tinged with concern. “You sound like someone kicked your puppy. Is this about Paige again?”

You pause, chewing on your bottom lip, the weight of your emotions threatening to spill over.

“She’s been ghosting me all week,” you finally admit, bitterness seeping into your voice like a slow drip. “I get that basketball keeps her busy, but is it really that hard to send one text? Like, ‘Hey, sorry, can’t talk right now’? That’s all I’m asking. It’s not rocket science.”

Jasmine’s incredulous tone comes through loud and clear. “Wait. She hasn’t responded at all? Not even a quick ‘Hey, I’m swamped’?”

“Not a word,” you reply, the edge in your voice sharpening. “Meanwhile, she’s out here talking about how much she likes me and how she wants to make things work. For what? So I can sit here, feeling like a damn afterthought, while she… I don’t even know what she’s doing anymore.”

“You deserve so much better,” Jasmine says firmly, her voice a grounding presence.

“Tell me about it,” you mutter, picking up your phone again despite yourself. It’s a reflex, a bad habit you can’t seem to break. You open Instagram, swiping through stories without purpose, when something stops you cold.

KK’s latest post dominates the screen. It’s a picture of the team crammed into a booth at Ted’s, smiles wide and carefree. Paige is smack in the middle, holding up Dirty Shirley, her grin so effortless it’s like she hasn’t ignored a single text in her life. She looks happy. Relaxed. Completely unbothered.

The caption reads: “Dubs only, baby! Turnt up with the squad 🏀.”

Your grip on the phone tightens as heat rises to your cheeks. Your jaw clenches involuntarily. So, she has time for this? Time to party, to hang out with her team, to go to Ted’s of all places—your spot—but can’t find two seconds to acknowledge you?

“Unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath, the words simmering with anger.

“What happened?” Jasmine’s voice snaps you back to reality.

“She’s at Ted’s,” you say through gritted teeth. “With the team. Laughing, drinking, looking like life is perfect while I’m over here wondering if she fell off the face of the Earth.”

“Oh, hell no,” Jasmine says, her indignation matching your own. “She thinks she can ignore you and get away with it? Nope. Get up, put on your hottest outfit, and remind her who the hell you are.”

You sit up, heart pounding as the idea takes root. Your glare is fixed on KK’s post, as if staring at it hard enough might erase the image entirely. Locking your phone, you toss it onto the bed before swinging your legs over the side.

“You know what?” you say, your voice steady and laced with resolve. “Maybe I will.”

The moment you’ve had enough, something shifts inside you—like a fire being reignited. The frustration that’s been simmering all evening finally boils over, and you grab your phone with newfound determination. Sitting upright on your bed, you unlock the screen, your fingers flying across the keyboard with practiced ease.

Y’all down for Ted’s tonight? Need backup.

The message is direct, no frills. This isn’t just a night out—it’s a mission.

Jasmine’s reply comes almost instantly, as if she’s been waiting for an excuse to hit the town. Say less. On my way in 20. Her energy is palpable even through a text.

Seconds later, Veronica chimes in: I’m in. Let’s cause some trouble. Her signature wink emoji follows, and you can’t help but smirk.

Finally, Serena’s response lights up your screen with a single word: Bet. Short, sweet, and packed with confidence.

With your friends locked in, you toss your phone onto the bed and head straight to your closet. It’s time to make a statement—one that’s impossible to ignore. You stand in front of your wardrobe, fingers brushing over hangers as you mentally critique each option. Too casual. Too plain. Too predictable.

After what feels like an eternity, your hand lands on the one. It’s bold, sleek, and undeniably sexy—a figure-hugging dress that accentuates all the right places and practically demands attention. You pull it off the hanger, holding it up in front of the mirror. The deep color complements your skin perfectly, and the hem does the absolute minimum in covering the bottom of your ass.

You slip into it carefully, smoothing the fabric over your body and adjusting it until it fits like a second skin. Taking a step back, you examine yourself in the mirror, tilting your head as a small smile plays on your lips. You look good. No—scratch that. You look amazing. But tonight, looking amazing isn’t enough. You want to turn heads. You want Paige to feel it.

Not done yet, you move to your vanity, flipping on the lights. Your makeup bag sits waiting, and you dive in with practiced precision. First, a flawless base, smooth and glowing, like your skin was kissed by the perfect Instagram filter. You follow with a contour that defines your features, giving you a sharp, sculpted look. Then comes the winged liner, bold and dramatic, with a flick so precise it could cut glass. Smokey eyeshadow enhances the look, making your gaze impossible to ignore, and a high-shine gloss adds the perfect finishing touch to your lips.

You lean back, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror. Every detail is on point, down to the faint shimmer of highlighter catching the light on your cheekbones. It’s flawless, if you do say so yourself.

As you’re spritzing on your favorite perfume—a scent both intoxicating and unforgettable—your phone buzzes again. Jasmine’s text reads: Outside. Let’s do this.

You slip on your favorite pair of chunky, heeled boots, the ones that make you feel like you own every room you walk into, and grab your bag. The rhythmic click of your heels on the pavement mirrors your determination as you stride out to Jasmine’s car.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you’re met with a low whistle from Jasmine. “Damn, girl,” she says, giving you an approving once-over. “Are you trying to destroy someone tonight?”

You smirk as you buckle your seatbelt, tossing your bag onto your lap. “Not destroy. Just remind a certain someone what she’s about to lose.”

Jasmine’s laugh fills the car as she reaches over for a fist bump. “Now that is the energy I needed. She won’t know what hit her.”

The ride to Ted’s feels electric. The bass of the music pulses through the car, a perfect soundtrack to your rising confidence. Jasmine keeps hyping you up the whole way, stealing glances at you every so often.

“You look so good, you’re probably going to start a fight,” she teases with a grin.

You meet her eyes with a smirk, adjusting a strand of hair in the mirror. “Good,” you say, your voice dripping with confidence. “Let her be mad. She’s got it coming.”

Jasmine’s laughter rings out, blending with the music as the two of you pull into the crowded parking lot. The neon sign for Ted’s glows against the night sky, and the hum of voices and laughter spills out into the cool evening air.

You step out of the car with purpose, adjusting your outfit one last time as your heels click against the asphalt. One final glance in the car’s side mirror confirms what you already know: you’re a vision, and tonight, you’re a force to be reckoned with.

Ted’s won’t know what hit it. And neither will Paige.

The low buzz of voices and the faint clinking of glasses hit you the moment you step into Ted’s. The warm glow of string lights overhead bathes the packed bar in a golden hue, and the energy in the room is palpable—loud laughter, animated conversations, and the occasional cheer erupting from the direction of the pool table. Your heels click against the floor as you make your way in with Jasmine, Veronica, and Serena flanking you like a well-coordinated squad.

It doesn’t take long to spot her. Paige is exactly where you expected, seated in a large booth near the back with Azzi, KK, Ice, and Jana. She’s dressed casually, black denim shorts, a black crop top, and an unbuttoned, white shirt, but she might as well be wearing a neon sign with the way she draws attention. She’s laughing, leaning back with her arm draped casually over the seat, completely at ease. You can see the sparkle in her eyes from here, even as she remains blissfully unaware of your presence.

The sight makes your stomach twist, but you shake it off. Tonight isn’t about Paige. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

“Let’s hit the bar,” you say, keeping your voice steady as you lead your friends in the opposite direction, deliberately ignoring the booth and the person in it.

The bartender greets you with a smile, and you order a couple rounds of shots for your group, letting Jasmine and the others hype you up as you throw them back the second they’re placed in front of you. Once you feel enough of a buzz to quell your anxiety, you decide to settle for a mixed drink to sip on for the remainder of the night. It isn’t long before you notice someone approaching, a tall, athletic-looking girl with broad shoulders and an easy grin. She’s wearing a fitted T-shirt and jeans, and the confidence in her stride is unmistakable.

“Hey,” she says, leaning against the bar. Her voice is low, smooth. “You look like you’re having more fun than anyone else here.”

You flash her a smile, tilting your head slightly. “You could say that.”

Her grin widens, and she introduces herself, launching into a conversation that you quickly match. Her compliments come freely—your outfit, your laugh, even the way you carry yourself—and you don’t hold back, laughing a little louder than usual and letting your fingers brush against her arm as you talk.

Across the booth, KK nudges Paige, a look of concern flickering across her face. “Uh, hey, isn’t that Y/N?” she says, nodding toward the bar.

Paige’s head snaps toward KK, her expression darkening as she follows her teammate’s line of sight. Her brows knit together as she takes in the scene—your effortless smile, the way you lean into the girl’s space, her hand resting on the bar just a little too close to yours. She recognizes the look in your eyes, it’s the same look she was on the receiving end of the first night you met.

“Yeah,” Paige says shortly, her voice clipped. She sets her drink down with more force than necessary, her grip tightening around the glass before she looks away.

Meanwhile, you pretend not to notice the silent storm brewing across the room. You keep your focus on the girl in front of you, leaning in just enough to keep the conversation flowing, though you can feel the heat of Paige’s jealousy from where you stand. It sends a thrill through you, equal parts satisfaction and spite.

As the girl laughs at something you’ve said, you turn your head to the side slightly, trying to catch a glance at the booth where Paige sits. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her tense, her hand balling into a fist on the table as she murmurs something to Azzi.

You can feel it in the air, Paige is reaching her breaking point. And that’s exactly what you wanted.

Paige sits stiffly in the booth, her grip on her drink tightening as her knuckles blanch. Her jaw works furiously, muscles twitching as if she’s holding back an eruption. The sound of your laugh, airy and effortless, cuts through the din of the bar, and Paige’s eyes flicker with barely concealed rage. Her teammates exchange uneasy glances, sensing the storm brewing beside them.

Azzi nudges KK and leans in. “Uh, is she okay?”

KK shrugs, her voice low. “I don’t think so.”

Paige suddenly stands, her movements sharp and deliberate. The scrape of her chair against the floor draws their attention.

“Where are you going?” Azzi asks, concern softening her voice.

Paige doesn’t look at her, her gaze fixed like a laser on you across the room. “I’ll be back,” she mutters, her voice clipped.

She doesn’t wait for a response, weaving through the crowd with purpose. Her steps are quick, her shoulders tight, and her eyes never leave you. You’re at the bar, leaning casually against the counter, completely absorbed in your conversation with the tall, athletic-looking girl beside you. The girl leans in close, her hand grazing your arm as she says something that makes you throw your head back with a laugh.

Paige’s chest tightens, and the corners of her vision blur with the heat of her jealousy. Each second feels like an eternity as she closes the distance, her blood boiling at the sight of the stranger getting a little too comfortable with you.

When she reaches you, she doesn’t pause to think. Her arm snakes around your waist in one swift motion, pulling you firmly against her side. The sudden contact makes you gasp, your conversation abruptly cut off. The flirty girl takes a step back, startled and clearly intimidated by Paige’s possessive presence.

“We’re leaving,” Paige says, her tone low and commanding. Her words are sharp enough to slice through the tension in the air.

You turn your head sharply, blinking in surprise as your eyes meet hers. The fire in her gaze burns so brightly it could scorch you, but you’re too stubborn to back down. “Now you have time to talk to me?” you ask, drawing the sentence out with deliberate sarcasm. “I think I’m fine right here.”

Paige’s jaw ticks, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, her arm tightens around your waist, her fingers pressing firmly into your side. It’s a silent warning, one you choose to ignore as you plant your feet against her attempts to steer you toward the door.

“Paige, what the hell?” you protest, your voice rising with irritation.

“Not here,” she snaps, her tone cold and final. Her grip remains unrelenting as she continues to lead you away from the bar.

Your friends notice the commotion, Jasmine standing halfway out of her seat. “Y/N, are you good?” she calls, her brows furrowed with concern.

You twist in Paige’s hold just enough to look back at them, throwing a hand up in a dismissive wave. “I’ll text you!” you shout over your shoulder, your voice dripping with frustration.

Paige doesn’t slow her pace until the two of you are outside, the cool night air biting at your skin. She releases you near her car, and you immediately step back, glaring at her.

“Seriously, Paige?” you snap, your voice sharp as you cross your arms over your chest. “You think you can just show up, ruin my night, and drag me out like this?”

Paige’s nostrils flare as she turns to face you fully, her expression thunderous. “I think I just did.”

Eventually you arrive at her apartment, and she has to practically pull you out of her car by your arm. The second you step into Paige’s entryway, you rip your arm out of her grip with enough force to make her stumble slightly. You spin around to face her, your chest heaving with frustration. The door slams shut behind you, echoing through the space like a gunshot.

“What the hell is your problem, Paige?” you shout, your voice cutting through the silence like a blade. Your words are sharp, fueled by anger that’s been simmering for days.

Paige whirls around to face you, her face already twisted in fury. “My problem?” she fires back, her voice rising to match yours, letting out a humorless chuckle. “You’re out there all over some random girl, and you’re asking me what my problem is?”

You take a step closer, refusing to back down. “Yeah, I am! Because you ignore me all week, and the second I talk to someone else, you suddenly care? Make it make sense, Paige!”

She runs both hands through her hair, pacing in jerky, frustrated strides between the door and the counter. “Do you know how insane it made me to see you with her?” she snaps, her words laced with raw, unfiltered emotion. “Laughing, touching her, looking like you were having the time of your life? Like I didn’t even exist?”

You laugh bitterly, the sound sharp and humorless as you cross your arms over your chest. “That’s rich, Paige. At least she actually talked to me, which is more than I’ve gotten from you in weeks.”

The room feels charged, every word hanging heavy in the air, but Paige isn’t done. She steps forward again, her voice low and rough with frustration. “You think I don’t care? You think I don’t want to talk to you? You’re all over her, touching her like it doesn’t matter, and it’s driving me crazy—"

“Gee, sounds like you finally get it,” you fire back, your words sharp with bitterness. “But hey, don’t worry, I’ll stop talking to people if it’ll make you feel better. Maybe next time, I’ll just sit in the corner and wait for you to remember I’m here, like some sad little backup plan.”

You turn your head, preparing to walk out, but before you can take a single step, Paige’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist with a force that stops you in your tracks. Your heart pounds in your chest as you turn to face her, ready to throw another snarky remark her way.

But before you can speak, she’s there, bringing her hands to grab both sides of your face, her lips crashing into yours with an intensity that takes you by surprise. You freeze for a split second, then instinct kicks in. You try to pull away, pushing against her chest with as much force as you can muster.

But she doesn’t let up. Her kiss deepens, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. The anger you’ve been carrying fades, replaced with confusion and something else you can’t quite name. You can feel her tension, her frustration, her need for something—maybe an answer, maybe redemption.

She slides one of her hands down to anchor around the front of your throat, her other hand drifting to grab at your hip through the thin material of your dress. She slowly starts to back you towards her kitchen, not stopping until the top of your ass is pressing against the island counter. She brings both hands to your hips, tapping the side of your ass with one hand, encouraging you to jump, and roughly squeezing your hip with the other.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as she lifts you effortlessly onto the cool marble countertop. Her hands slide possessively up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher. She steps forward, wedging herself between your parted legs.

"You look so fucking good in this dress," she says, her voice low and thick with desire. One hand slips under the fabric to caress the bare skin of your hip while the other tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your throat.

She dips her head, warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin before her lips press against your racing pulse. Your back arches as she nips at the delicate skin, soothing the pinch with her tongue and surely leaving a mark. A breathy moan fills the air and it takes you a moment to realize it came from you.

Her lips trail lower, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. You shiver as her tongue flicks out to taste your skin. The hand on your hip slides inward, fingertips skimming teasingly along the inside of your thigh.

You wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her in closer, desperate for more contact. She chuckles darkly against your throat, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure racing down your spine. "I love it when you get like this," she murmurs approvingly. "All desperate and needy."

To punctuate her point, she rolls her hips, grinding against your center. The pressure and friction draw a keening whimper from your lips. Your hands fly up to grip her strong shoulders, nails digging into taut muscle through her shirt.

Her lips glide over your skin, a delicate yet fervent touch, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. As she moves up from your jawline, each kiss ignites a spark, and her breath, hot and teasing, touches your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine. "I've been thinking about having you like this all night," she murmurs.

You whimper as her hands skim higher, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric. She captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim your mouth, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

She reaches up to pull your dress down, revealing your bare breasts. Her lips immediately latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and biting it gently. You arch into her touch, a moan escaping your parted lips as she places full attention on the sensitive bud. Her tongue flicks and swirls, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Her other hand palms your neglected breast, kneading the supple flesh. She rolls the pebbled nipple between her fingers, pinching and tugging in time with the ministrations of her mouth, each pull sending another rush of heat flooding your body.

"So pretty, baby," she says, the words vibrating against your skin. She gives your nipple one last hard suck before trailing her lips across your chest to the other breast, circling her tongue around the straining peak. Her mouth is relentless, her tongue swirling and flicking over your nipple until it’s aching, her teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. Her free hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing the curve of your hip before slipping between your thighs. You’re already wet, your panties soaked through, and she groans against your skin as her fingers brush over the damp fabric.

Your head falls back as you cry out, hands fisting in her silky hair to hold her close. She smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the reactions she's pulling from your trembling body. Your back arches involuntarily, pressing your body closer to hers as you desperately seek more of her touch, the sound of her soft chuckle making you shudder with pleasure.

"Patience," she whispers, the word barely audible as her fingers trace lazy circles around your clit through the lace of your underwear. The sensation is frustrating, and you can't help but whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily in search of more contact.

You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, your body responding to her touch in ways you never thought possible. You already know she's jealous, you saw the way she looked at you earlier when you were talking to that other girl. But you can't help but feel thrilled at the way she's touching you now, as if she's trying to claim you as her own.

You lean back on your hands, your eyes locked on Paige's as she continues to tease you. Her gaze is intense, fiery, and you can see the possessiveness in her eyes. It sends a thrill down your spine, making you even more turned on.

"You're mine," Paige murmurs, her voice low and husky, filled with an undeniable possessiveness. The words send a thrill throughout your body, making your heart race with excitement. “Say it.”

"I'm yours," you whisper back, your voice barely audible as the tension builds within you. You can feel the pressure growing more and more intense, your body aching for release.

Paige's fingers finally slip under the waistband of your underwear, making contact with your sensitive skin. The feeling is electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You cry out, your hips bucking wildly as she begins to stroke you. Her touch is firm and confident, her fingers expertly finding your most sensitive spots.

You feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm, your body trembling with anticipation. Paige's gaze is locked on yours, her eyes filled with a fierce intensity that makes you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "Come for me, baby."

And with those words, you finally let go, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out her name. Paige holds you close, her fingers still moving rhythmically as you ride out your orgasm. As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Paige pulls her fingers away from your clit.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Paige is on you again. She moves with a speed and agility that takes you by surprise, pushing your back onto the counter with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your body splayed out beneath her, you feel a thrill of excitement run through you. You're completely at her mercy, and the thought is intoxicating. Paige's hand makes its way back to your throat, her grip firm and unyielding. She pins you to the counter by your throat, her body pressing against yours as she holds you in place.

You gasp at the sudden change in position, your heart racing with a combination of fear and excitement. The feeling of being completely dominated by Paige is both terrifying and exhilarating, sending a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Paige's other hand slides back between your legs, her fingers finding your entrance with ease. You can feel yourself growing wetter with each passing moment, your body responding instinctually to her touch. She finds your g-spot easily, her fingers curling and pressing against it with just the right amount of pressure. You moan softly, your hips bucking as she begins to stroke you, her movements slow and deliberate at first, before building up to a feverish pace.

But she’s not content with just bringing you to orgasm. She wants to claim you, to mark you as hers in every way possible. And as she continues to finger you, her grip on your throat tightening ever so slightly, you know that you're completely and utterly hers.

Paige's movements become more insistent, her fingers moving faster and harder as she brings you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel yourself teetering on the brink of another orgasm, your body writhing and bucking beneath her touch. Your breath comes in short, ragged gasps as she continues, her movements growing more frantic as she feels your body starting to give in to the pleasure. “Paige, I can’t… it’s too much.”

“Nah, baby, I’ve been so mean to you this week, I just wanna make it up to you.” You moan louder now, your voice echoing through the room as Paige brings you to new heights of pleasure. Your body feels like it's on fire, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure. “C’mon, I know you can take it.”

And then, with one final stroke, you reach the peak of your orgasm, your body convulsing and shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Paige's fingers continue to move inside you, prolonging your orgasm and sending you spiraling into new heights of ecstasy. When it's all over, you collapse back onto the counter, your body spent and satisfied. Paige pulls her fingers away, a satisfied smirk on her face as she looks down at you, bringing her fingers to her mouth to suck at the remnants of your orgasm.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended, though the heat in your cheeks betrays your embarrassment. You quickly move to fix your dress, suddenly feeling self-conscious now that the moment is over.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” Paige replies, her voice steady but softer than usual. Still, her gaze doesn’t waver, her blue eyes fixed on you.

The silence in the apartment feels suffocating, filled with the weight of everything unspoken. The distant hum of the refrigerator is the only sound, an almost mocking contrast to the charged tension between you. Sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter, you swing your legs idly, trying to feign a casualness you don’t feel. The cool surface beneath you does little to soothe the heat creeping up your neck as Paige stands in front of you, close enough that her presence seems to fill the room.

When you finally look at her, expecting that same smug, self-satisfied smirk she’s perfected, you’re caught off guard. Her expression isn’t cocky; it’s something else entirely. The spark of amusement is gone, replaced by something heavier, something raw. Her blue eyes hold yours, steady and searching, as if she’s trying to find the words buried somewhere between you.

Paige shifts slightly, her hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. She takes a breath, her chest rising and falling in a way that betrays the steady confidence she usually exudes. For a split second, it feels like the world narrows down to just this moment, just the two of you.

Her voice finally breaks the silence, low and uncharacteristically serious. “You know we need to talk about everything.”

The words hang between you, heavy and undeniable. Her tone is firm but carries a vulnerability that makes your stomach twist. She’s not brushing this off or dancing around it like you half-expected. No teasing grin, no playful deflection—just a directness that makes it impossible to pretend this is something you can both walk away from unscathed.

Paige shifts her weight slightly, standing even closer now, the space between your legs shrinking until there’s barely any left. The warmth of her body radiates against you, and you suddenly feel hyper aware of every inch of space she occupies. Her eyes don’t leave yours, and you can tell she’s waiting, giving you the chance to push her away—or pull her closer.

But the way she looks at you, so open and unguarded, makes it hard to do either. It’s a stark contrast to the Paige who had been ignoring your texts all week, and yet, it feels so achingly familiar. You’re torn between wanting to stay guarded and giving in to the pull of the moment. Finally, you arch an eyebrow, your voice steady despite the swirl of emotions threatening to surface.

“Okay,” you say, your tone more challenging than you intended. “Start talking.”

Paige’s shoulders stiffen, and for a second, you think she might retreat into that wall of stoicism she hides behind so well. But then her jaw tightens, and she steps even closer, her closeness making your nervousness spike, but you don’t flinch, meeting her gaze head-on.

“I can’t stand seeing you with someone else,” she says, her words thick with frustration. “I don’t want you flirting, laughing, or even looking at anyone but me. I want you, Y/N. Only you. I want us to be exclusive. I’ll do better. Just… don’t ever do that again.”

Your breath catches, and you almost flinch at how accurately her words cut to the truth. Still, you say nothing, giving her the space to continue.

“I messed up,” she begins, her voice quiet but deliberate. “I know I’ve been distant. I know I’ve made you feel like you’re not important to me, like basketball or… anything else in my life comes before you.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to maintain your composure, the snarky defense you’ve built up around yourself threatening to crack. You cross your arms, fighting to keep the sarcasm in your voice, even though your insides are a tangled mess of emotions.

“Exclusive, huh?” you challenge, your voice sharp, almost taunting, as you raise an eyebrow. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest, creating a barrier between you and the vulnerability she’s suddenly laying at your feet. “And what happens when basketball gets in the way again? When I’m just another item on your to-do list?”

Paige flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The slight crack in her usually unshakable confidence stirs something in you—satisfaction, maybe, or guilt. You can’t quite tell. Her jaw tightens, the muscles working as if she’s biting back the first response that comes to mind. Instead, her gaze shifts, no longer carrying the frustration or defensiveness you’ve grown used to. Instead, there’s something softer, rawer, in the way she looks at you now. The intensity of her eyes locks you in place, her expression quietly pleading yet resolute.

“I’m not going to let that happen again,” Paige says, her voice low and steady. “I know I’ve screwed up before. I’ve made you feel like you’re not a priority, like you’re just… there, waiting for me to fit you in.” She pauses, the weight of her own admission hanging heavily between you. “But that’s not how I see you. That’s not what I want us to be.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. There’s no rehearsed apology, no empty promises. Just a raw honesty that feels like she’s peeling back the layers she’s kept hidden from everyone else. Your heart twists, torn between holding onto your frustration and the pull of what she’s offering.

You narrow your eyes, unwilling to let her off the hook so easily. “And how do I know this isn’t just another one of your moments? That it won’t be the same cycle all over again?”

Paige exhales, her shoulders rising and falling with the weight of your skepticism. “Because I don’t want to lose you,” she says simply, her tone almost breaking. “Because when I saw you with her tonight, it felt like the ground was being ripped out from under me. I don’t want to feel that again, Y/N. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not enough, or that you’re not worth my time.”

You’re still sitting on the counter, and the height difference gives you a brief sense of power, though it doesn’t last long under the intensity of her gaze.

“You’re not some item on a list,” she continues, her voice softening as she tilts her head to meet your eyes. “You’re the list, Y/N. You’re the one thing that matters more than all of it. And if that means I have to rearrange my life, show up differently, or prove it to you every single day, then that’s what I’ll do.”

The vulnerability in her words catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and bitterness you’ve been clinging to starts to loosen its grip. Still, you’re not ready to let her win that easily. You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly as if to study her, daring her to flinch under your scrutiny.

“You’re really laying it on thick, Bueckers,” you quip, though the usual sharpness in your tone is softened by the faintest hint of a smirk.

Paige’s lips twitch upward, a flicker of her usual confidence returning. “That’s because I mean it,” she counters, her voice steady. “I’m not going to let you walk away from this—not without fighting for you.”

You’re quiet for a moment, the air between you charged with unspoken feelings and the lingering tension of everything that’s gone unsaid for far too long.

“So, you’re telling me I’m the priority now?” you ask, your voice quieter this time, a little softer, though you keep your arms crossed in a weak attempt to shield yourself. There’s hesitation in your tone, an uncertainty you can’t quite hide, but the words still slip past your lips. “Not basketball, not your schedule, not the team?”

Paige doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t waver. Her blue eyes hold yours with an intensity that pins you in place, her conviction written all over her face. “Yes,” she says, her voice steady, as though the truth of it is something she’s carried for a long time. “You. Only you, Y/N.”

You look down at where her hands rest, then back up to meet her eyes—those piercing blue eyes that seem to hold nothing but honesty and a hint of fear, as if she’s bracing for your rejection. Your defenses falter. The weight of her confession, the raw emotion in her voice, the way she’s standing there, so vulnerable—it all seeps into the cracks of your resolve. Slowly, your arms drop to your sides, the tension in your shoulders easing as you exhale a shaky breath.

“Paige,” you murmur, your voice quieter now, fueled with something more forgiving. “If you screw this up—”

“I won’t,” she interrupts, her voice firm but not forceful. Her hands slide up slightly, resting on your hips now, anchoring herself to you. “I swear to you, Y/N. I won’t.”

You hold her gaze for another long moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt. But all you see is determination—determination and something deeper, something so achingly familiar it makes your heart clench.

“Okay,” you whisper, the word barely audible, but it’s enough. Enough to make Paige’s expression soften, her shoulders relax, and a spark of hope flicker in her eyes.

Her grip on your hips tightens slightly as she steps closer, standing between your legs, her face just inches from yours now. “Okay?” she repeats, as if she can’t quite believe it.

“Okay,” you say again, your voice steadier this time. You tilt your head slightly, a small, almost teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “But you’d better back it up, Bueckers. I’m not making this easy for you.”

Paige chuckles softly, a sound filled with relief and affection. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Before you can respond, she leans in, her hands sliding up to cup your face gently, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks. She hesitates for the briefest moment, giving you a chance to pull away, but when you don’t, she closes the distance.

The kiss is slow at first, almost tentative, as if she’s trying to convey everything she can’t put into words. But it doesn’t take long for the intensity to build, for her to pour every ounce of her emotions into the connection. Her lips move against yours with a mix of passion and desperation, and you can feel her heartbeat pounding in sync with your own.

Your hands find their way to her shoulders, then slide up to thread through her hair, pulling her closer as you kiss her back with just as much fervor. The tension, the anger, the frustration of the past week melts away, replaced by a warmth that spreads through your chest like wildfire.

When she finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, foreheads resting together. Paige’s eyes search yours, her lips curling into a small, almost shy smile. “I’ll make it up to you, Y/N. Every day. You’ll see.”

You can’t help but smile back, your fingers still tangled in her hair. “You’d better,” you reply, your tone soft but teasing. “Because I’m holding you to it.”

Paige grins, and for the first time in what feels like forever, it feels like everything is falling into place.

#paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wcbb #wcbb #wlw fanfic #wlw post #uconn x reader

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moonlit-tulip · 3 months ago

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It's often noted, in discussions of the Death Note anime, that it's much weaker than the manga in its rendition of post-timeskip events partly for pacing reasons: the pre-timeskip parts of the anime adapt ~6.5 manga-volumes in 25 episodes, while the post-timeskip parts adapt ~5.5 in 12 episodes, so a lot more important detail-work is lost and the whole thing ends up feeling kind of perfunctory.

Much less often noted as far as I've seen, but nonetheless also true, is that the Death Note anime removes some important characterization-nuance from Light, starting right near the beginning, whose presence elevates the manga to be substantially better than the anime even before the time-skip.

In particular: the Death Note manga is, at its core, a tragedy in classic "character who has everything falls into ruin due to a fatal personal flaw" style. Light is a brilliant student who, in the future ahead of him, has the potential to do practically whatever he wants. He's driven to ruin by the fatal flaw of unwillingness to admit, either to others or to himself, when he's made a mistake. This flaw is an essential piece of his characterization, in the manga. And the anime pretty much entirely skips over it.

As portrayed in the manga, Light's decision to become Kira—which ultimately leads to his downfall—is made in the following way. First, he finds the Death Note, and is led by morbid curiosity to write a name in it, killing someone. Then, still not really believing it, he kills a second person too. At which point it hits him that he's killed two people. And at that point, after a viscerally-horrified breakdown about what he's done, the inability to admit mistakes kicks in, and he proceeds to rewrite his own value-system such that it yields the result that killing those people was actually okay, and in fact morally good. Because the alternative would be for him to acknowledge himself as having made a terrible mistake, and that, more than anything else, is something he's unwilling to do if he can see any other option at all. And then, having convinced himself that those two murders were good, he proceeds to reason that, if they were good, then doing more like them is good; and thus he becomes Kira, leading eventually, far down the line, to his ruin. The anime, by contrast, substantially deemphasizes this flaw of his, portraying him as much more calmly put-together through that series of events and thus making him come across as having been tempted in becoming-Kira-ward directions all along.

Similarly, in the anime, when Light leaks a bunch of information to L about his identity by using non-public information acquired via police channels, he declares that actually this was deliberate as a means of baiting L out so he can kill him, and the anime presents this declaration pretty uncritically. The manga, by contrast, presents it as an extension of that same character-flaw: Light is unwilling to admit to having actually just straightforwardly messed up, and therefore makes up a new plan to view himself to have been following-all-along, thus leading him to take more risks in his game against L going forward and thus, once again, helping him along the path to ruin.

Et cetera.

Compared with the manga, then, the anime's version of Light's characterization ends up less interesting. And, moreover, it introduces a plot hole, when the Yotsuba arc comes around! It makes it much less clear why an amnesiac Light would be so straightforwardly aligned against Kira. In the manga, this is pretty clear: a Light who never killed anyone wouldn't have rewritten his values to consider killing people to be good, and therefore would look at Kira as straightforwardly evil. And, in fact, his amnesiac self has trouble taking the possibility of his having been Kira previously, even as the evidence starts building up, because becoming Kira would be a mistake according to his value-system of the moment, and this leaves him having a very hard time contemplating the possibility of its having in fact happened! Whereas the anime, by deemphasizing Light's big flaw, makes his amnesiac-self's differences from the way he is for most of the story up to that point come across as much more out-of-nowhere, much less narratively well-founded.

So, overall, the people who talk about the Death Note manga as superior to the anime specifically post-timeskip strike me as somewhat understating things. The manga is superior to the anime pre-timeskip, too, via that extra layer of characterization and a resulting improvement both in character-interestingness and in plot-coherence. And thus I consider the manga to be very much the definitive version of Death Note from start to finish, despite the anime's relatively-higher popularity.

#Archive #Death Note #Analysis #there was a gap of about a decade between when i first watched the death note anime and when i first read the death note manga #(the me of ~2011-2012 when i first watched the anime was bad at recognizing characters / following action / etc. in black-and-white comics #and thus impaired in her manga-reading abilities in general)#but i'm glad i finally got around to reading the manga eventually #even if it did take me a while #(to be clear: i read it in 2022; this post isn't downstream of having recently read the manga)#(just of having recently been thinking idly about it and thus remembering this as an infodump-possibly-worth-posting)

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belovedenzo · 2 months ago

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nsfw theodore nott headcanons…

various sexually explicit headcanons w/ bf! theo

┃words; 1.4k

┃notes; just some things about bf! theo sex. this is my first theo post so I hope you enjoy it !

┃ warnings; NSFW MDNI 18+. toxic! theo. explicit and kinky themes.

┃ Dominant. No matter how tired or lazy he’s feeling, Theo always likes it best when he’s in control. Watching you squirm and lose yourself in the pleasure he gives you, provides him with best high imaginable. He thinks it’s cute if you ever try and make him submit in any way but no matter how hard you may try, you always end up at his mercy.

┃ Sharing. It’s a guilty pleasure of his to watch the eyes of his closest friends eye your figure up and down when you walk into the room. At first it made him see red but once he became confident that you are his and no one else’s- he finds it cute. The idea that any of them think they could have some of you amuses him- the sight of them pining after you even started to turn him on. Eventually he may even let one of them fuck you in front of him, on his terms of course. Mattheo… if you were wondering.

┃ High sex. When you two finally get alone time together- Theo loves to spend it smoking joints in what ever spot he chose that day. Muggle weed has always had it’s way of putting him in the mood- it doesn’t take long before his lips and tongue are all over you. When he’s high he loves to take his time with you, his touch much more gentle that it typically is. He even lasts longer than he usually does, causing you to ache the next morning. ache so good

┃ Brat tamer. If he feels disrespected by you in any way you can except to be face down ass up by the end of the day. If you do something that rubs him just right the wrong way he makes sure that you understand what you did wrong while he’s deep inside of you. His insults and demands can be half heard through your fucked out conciseness- face stuffed in what ever surface he chose to press it into. You try to apologize over and over through your moans and gasps but he won’t be satisfied till your full of his cum. When Theo decides you need to be tamed he’s not nice about it- if there’s one thing he can’t stand it’s a brat. He loves it.

┃ Protective. No one has the nerve to mess with Theo’s girl- but if they did they’d have to get through him first. He loves to have you on his arm- showing you off like a present. In all truthfulness- watching their jealous eyes wander away quickly as he catches their glance turns him on. Their anxiety and fear that they got caught while his sweet girl is tucked under his broad shoulder. Something about the power he holds in that situation makes him want to fuck you in front of them- all of them.

┃ Face fucking. There’s nothing better than the view Theo gets of your mouth wrapped around his cock- deep down your throat. Tears sit in the corners of your half lidded, blissed out eyes, streaming down the sides of your rosy cheeks while he pushes your limits. He loves having you like this, fist fulls of your hair entagled in his fingers- having full control over your mouth and the pretty little head attached to it. If you try and intervene, punishment will be near in your future so you’ve stopped trying. However he knows you love the attention so the alligator tears don’t fool him.

┃ Thigh Riding. His hands hold onto your hips unyieding- your flesh making contact with his. He has you situated, your legs around the midst of his thigh. It always starts out painfully slow, Theo loves taking his time dipping your hips up and down closer to his thigh to tease your clit with contact. Once he starts giving you that sweet tension your pussy is begging for it doesn’t take long for you to finish all over his firm thigh. He never lets you have control of your own hips while your ride, but you’re always content submitting to him.

┃ Ass guy. Theo loves your ass and that’s final. Of course he thinks all of you is sexy but he can’t deny he’s an ass man. Most of his favorite positions to have you in, include your ass posted up nice and spread for him to see. The way it moves along with the snapping of his hips while he’s fucking you, or the way it shimmies behind you as you walk. It’s a huge turn on for him.

┃ Choking. The place his hands have always gravitated towards has been your neck. Even if it’s an innocent grab at your nape to show affection as you walk through the halls- his hands can be found resting on your neck. More often though, the reasonings aren’t as innocent. This is the best place for him to make you as small and vulnerable as possible. His grip is consistently anchored stiff but depending on his mood he may actually allow you to breathe.

┃ Cheating. Theo loves you- a lot. In fact, the feelings he’s had for you over the course of your relationship have been some of which he’s never experienced before. However that may be hard to believe due to his past of unfaithful actions. If you don’t give him enough attention for what ever reason it may be- Theo will eventually cheat. Some of the reason may be even out of spite, he can be just as vile as he can sweet. Any time you have attempted to stand up for yourself he simply manipulates you into forgiving and forgetting. Aka he makes you cum

┃ High pony tail. Undeniably- there is nothing you can do with your looks to turn him on more than a high pony. The way it pulls all of the hair out of your face has always been a big factor in the ponytail being a favorite but that’s not the only reason. It reminds him of how you look when both of his hands pull your hair back nice and tight- gripping it at the crown of your head to keep it out of the way while he forces his length down your throat. It makes you look sexy and brings back good memories- what’s there not to love?

┃ Mirrors. One reason why Theo loves fucking you in the prefects bathroom- is the mirror. Forcing you to watch yourself get the best dick of your life should be considered a treat. He’s always wanted to show you how fucked out your face looks when your below him and with a mirror- he can do just that. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t also like to watch as he pounds your cheeks from behind, watching you close your eyes in embarresment through the reflection at the slapping sounds. If you keep them closed for too long- he’ll force them back open if he has to, you have to watch. The way your face contorts and emotes amuses him, proving to himself yet again that he has you dick whipped.

┃ Hair tugging. This is one that you’ve almost grown to hate. Not only does Theo love to pull your hair during a usual rough sexcapade- he also does it when he thinks you need to be taught a lesson. Theo has never been afraid to hurt you and you know that- but merlin do you hate the snappy little hair pulls that he does when he doesn’t like something you said or if you disagree with him in front of his friends. Yeah- he has the nerve to do it in front of everybody. His long fingers yank and pull at your longest strands, a small sting kissing your scalp- his way of saying “stop.” When he’s in an extra loving mood he’ll even play with your hair which you love- but if he’s in an extra terrible mood you can except your hair to be yanked just a little harder while he takes his shitty day out on your pussy.

luv, spell

taglist; plz lmk if u need to be added or removed! @draco-malfoys-lovergirl @dearmisshoney @shyamanuensis @riddlesbunny @enzosbabyangel @juliet-017 @ur-local-wizard @nottsstar @nottsamor @nottslove @riddlesrizzler @riddlesgirlie @riddleswhcre @riddlesgrl @eternalbuckley @obsessedwithceleste @pizzaapeteer @nemesyaaa @hayleygrrr @nemesyaaa @prythiansprincess @writingsbychlo

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shoukokus · 3 months ago

Note

After chapter 6 I just love the sound of Vil aggressively giving Yuu a signed autographed picture of himself. Yuu is neutral on it but Vil pushes so hard they feel like they have to take it from him.

Yuu: maybe the real autographed picture is the friends we made along the way

prefect/vil schoenheit

Vil never liked to leave a favor unpaid. After Styx where he was admittedly saved, he had a debt. With Rook and Epel, it was simple. He was able to see them regularly, and swoop in when an opportunity presented itself. The Prefect however, was proving to be a challenge.

Every thing he came up with didn't seem right. Simply helping them with schoolwork, the group effort everyone put into Ramshackle, inviting them to dine at Pomefiore... None of it was the correct way in Vil's opinion. It had to be something real, something the Prefect could always see and think of him. In a completely platonic way, of course. Not in a, I'm starting to see you and I like it, way. Obviously...

He hums to himself as an idea begins to form in his mind.

The next day after classes, Vil finds the Prefect in the courtyard with their circle of friends. It was quite impressive, he has to admit, that they found such companionship despite the circumstances. Even Epel, of his own dorm, found solace with the magicless Prefect.

Vil approaches elegantly, standing directly in front of his target as the others watched with baited breath. "Come with me for a moment."

Standing stiffly, they follow, even as a chorus of "oohs" and "they're in trouble," sounded behind them. Turning corners, Vil leads them to a quieter hallway, and finally presents the perfect way to repay the debt.

"Uh," the Prefect takes it, looking a lot less ecstatic than Vil would have thought. "Thank you... what is it?"

That question nearly shatters Vil's perfectly crafted image, but he grits his teeth. They're from another world... they just didn't understand the significance yet. "It is an autographed photo of myself," Vil explains with pride. "From one of my most exclusive magazine shoots. This particular picture wasn't used in the edition, but I kept it, because I look so stunning."

"Yeah..." The Prefect nods as they examine the photo, looking much too confused still. "It's nice."

"N..Nice?" Vil is starting to look a little scary. "That photo alone is worth thousands of thaumarks. With the autograph, maybe triple!"

Something finally seemed to click in their eyes as they looked down at the picture, then back up to Vil. Mouth slightly agape, Vil feels like he's finally gotten through. Until they speak.

"You know I'll help you out anytime, right?"

"You... what?" Vil was flabbergasted at that response.

The Prefect smiles. A dazzling smile so disarming that even he can see the raw charm they possessed. "I don't need anything from you, Vil. I wanted to go to Styx to help, not to..." They gently wave the photo. "Get things from you guys."

This time, Vil was well and truly speechless. They truly were an interesting, little one...

"So, here," they try to hand the picture back. "I don't need a prize for doing what's right."

"Absolutely not." Vil crosses his arms. "Keep it, I insist."

A small pout forms on their lips, and Vil tries not to think of how cute it looks. "Take it, Vil."

Turning his nose away, the Pomefiore dorm leader doubles down. "You are keeping it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are."

The back and forth continues, and will probably stay that way for the foreseeable future. At least until Vil find the perfect way to tell them the real reason he wants a picture of himself with them at all times.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader

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uyuforu · 5 months ago

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❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。 ༻ Astro Observations XI ༺ ❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Union Asteroid in Natal Chart

જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno Aspects in Natal Chart

જ⁀➴ Astro Observations X

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⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Natal Chart

❀ I read somewhere that Aries Rising often ignore people, even the closest people. My sister does that often, and she is also Aries Rising. ❀

❀ Also, the Rising sign and degree can say often how you look, your appearance but don't forget planets and other placements in your 1H! ❀

❀ Moreover, the Ruler of your Rising can also tell a lot about your appearance, meaning the sign and house placements of your Ruler. ❀

❀ I also noticed that whenever the Sun or Venus was transiting my 1H I was changing something on my appearance. It can also just be me adopting a new way to do my hair or my make up, etc. ❀

❀ Having Aries Descendant is a sign you'll have a spouse who will make you realize you are too nice, you are too generous with others, and they will teach you it's okay to tell people to go f*ck themselves. ❀

❀ Men who have Virgo Rising are the finest in my opinion, perhaps because I'm Virgo Venus but girl they are just so neat and take care of themselves so much, it's so refreshing. ❀

❀ Moreover, Virgo Rising men often age like fine wine. Their hot era is never ending. Just take Benjamin Bratt as an example. ❀

❀ If Pluto transiting your Natal Chart will give you clarity over which house it transits, and it will also be a huge transformation in it. I have it in my 4H, and I can tell you I see my family differently and learn a lot of hidden things. It hits like a b*tch. ❀

❀ Can we stop generalizing MC signs ? Cancer MC doesn't mean necessarily the person will do a job related to taking care of others. The sign over your MC is often a way to describe your needs in a career, but the planets in the 10h and the sign it is in matters, AND the ruler of the 10H as well. ❀

❀ Saturn conjunct Juno often means you'll marry your destined person later in life, and you could also meet later in life as well. ❀

❀ Juno conjunct Chiron is a sign your FS is wounded, in depression, or that they will need to heal to be with you. Being with your Future Spouse could also require a lot of sacrifices. ❀

❀ 4H Ruler in 7H people could often depend on their partner emotionally. They can also be the kind of person to want to only settle down with a partner. ❀

❀ Saturn 7H can have the same effect as Venus conjunct Saturn , you could have a delay in your love life, or find yourself having many lessons about it. You could have to live some failed relationships or romantic interactions in your early life, yet perhaps around your Saturn Return, you could have a better and long lasting love life. ❀

❀ Jupiter conjunct Saturn 7H could mean a delay in your marriage, perhaps marrying close to your 30's, but it could also mean after being married, your life will be very good, and you'll gain a lot because of marriage, and perhaps a lot of knowledge and wisdom as well. ❀

❀ I feel like even if you try hard, you'll never really know someone with Sun 8H/12H. They are quite good at showing exactly what they want you to see. ❀

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Synastry

❀ Rising conjunct Venus often means Venus person will think Rising person is their ideal type. ❀

❀ I often found that when it's not a romantic connection, Sun in 7H Synastry is not a good relationship, yet often a toxic one. Sun person can tend to hate 7H person. ❀

❀ I feel like 2H, 6H & 10H are really underrated houses in Synastry. I think it's really good to have those houses, mostly if big 3 are there. ❀

❀ Sun conjunct Venus often makes the Sun person think Venus person is very attractive. They could also find Venus very charming and their type. ❀

❀ I often saw Juno 1H Synastry when there was love at first sight between two people. Often Juno person having love at first sight for 1H person. ❀

❀ Venus/ Juno/ Jupiter is very beneficial for "finding the house person good looking", and often if you have those planets in someone's 1H or conjunct their Rising, they will be your type. ❀

❀ Every time I had a friend who wanted to befriend me and who was also someone I got along with so much, they have a Stellium in my 11H. ❀

❀ Sun 12H Synastry can possibly make the 12H person forget about you often. ❀

❀ In some relationships, Venus in the 12H can say that 12H person doesn't feel the love Venus person try to give them, and could also feel unloved. ❀

❀ Moon conjunct Saturn can also be that Moon person feel totally misunderstood by Saturn person, or they could feel judged often by Saturn person. ❀

❀ Mars 3H can mean Mars person can often know the right words to hurt 3H person, they can speak to them in a harsh way as well. ❀

❀ Sometimes 12H placements aren't that bad, so take it with a grain of salt. For example, my mother has a Stellium in my 12H, and we are very connected. ❀

❀ Sun conjunct Jupiter often makes the two natives adore each other, they often get along very well, laugh together but also they often share the same opinion. Jupiter person often teach a lot of valuable lessons to Sun person. ❀

❀ Chiron conjunct Moon often means Chiron person will hurt Moon's feelings. I have this aspect with my uncle, he often is harsh with his words. I was scared of him when I was little. ❀

❀ Sun 8H can mean 8H person can feel like Sun person doesn't like them. ❀

❀ Moon 12H in Synastry can often tell us that Moon person will struggle to say to 12H person how they feel, or often share personal things about them. Though, it can also be a sign of deep spiritual connection. ❀

Thank you for reading!

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pencil-n-pen · 4 months ago

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EYE TO EYE, THIGH TO THIGH

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

──────────────────────

rafe x fem! black cat! pogue! reader

previous part | masterlist | kofi

this is a sequel but it can be read as a standalone!!

summary: you’ve done it. you’re actually dating the Rafe Cameron. He’s everything you didn’t think he’d be. So maybe you’re a tiny, little bit in love with him.

cw: honestly not much considering this is a rafe fic, relationship insecurity, references to past bad relationships i guess? rafe is rafe and reader is reader :P

tags/tropes: Rafe spoiling reader bc i feel like we didn’t get enough in the last fic, relationship insecurity, fluff, reader is secretly shy and has so much anxiety she just hides it by being a bitch (me too girl) reader feeling safe enough with Rafe to be soft, squishy, shy, and girly-girl <3

a/n: okay so yall at that last fic up i am surprised i will admit. also guys pls appreciate the fact that the color scheme for the first fic was blue and now it’s pink. also fairy warning, the tone of this fic is way different than the first one, we’re highlighting reader’s insecurities so she’s not as maneater-black cat. Rafe is showing her she doesn’t have to be all of that with him :) He loves spoiling his girl <3

title taken from Little Bit by Lykke Li —the original, not the remix— aka the sequel’s anthem. i highly suggest giving it a listen (especially while reading !!)

──────────────────────

݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

Despite projecting confidence and arrogance, you don’t actually know that much about relationships. It’s easy to act like you know better when you know better, and for the most part, you do.

After that fake relationship fiasco, you had to be painfully honest with yourself about what you would and wouldn’t tolerate in a future relationship, if you ever were to get in one.

And now you are in one with the least likely person you ever thought you’d start dating, and well. You kind of feel like you’re bracing for pain that —hopefully— won’t come.

You’ve upheld a strong belief that all relationships are terrible to some extent. The bickering, the clinginess, the cheating. Lack of chemistry. Lack of physical attraction.

None of these things are present in your relationship with Rafe. Except the bickering, but it’s not real fighting. Rafe just enjoys riling you up so he can kiss you senseless after. It’s a hobby of his.

Your first and only real argument thus far was about your house.

“My dad is a real estate developer,” He’d said, jaw tight. “And your house is the size of a fuckin’ postage stamp. Just let me fix it.”

“Rafe, that kind of renovation and repair costs thousands of dollars. Not hundreds, thousands. I can’t be indebted to your family like that.”

Rafe had just groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, baby, you need to get this through that thick fucking skull of yours, but we’re rich. Filthy. Fucking. Rich.”

He’s enunciated the last three words, practically spitting them.

“And you’re my girl. I am your boyfriend. I’m your provider. I take care of you. That’s my job. Can you let me do my job? Can you afford the repairs? Look at me in my eyes and tell me your job at that cafe is going to pay for the renovations.”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. Look, it’s a win for everybody. You get your house repaired for free, and my dad gets to boost his public image. He’s always stressing about that.”

It was hard to complain about things while you were staying in their mansion during the repairs —which, shockingly, didn’t take long. You suppose your house is pretty small and the damage wasn’t that bad.

Your stomach churns with guilt every time you think about all the money that it cost to have the work done. Money you didn’t pay.

It keeps you up at night, a constant, disgraceful, litany.

Money money money money money money money money money money money money money—

So you finally decide to approach Rafe about it.

He’s seated at his desk, headphones on, playing some game with Topper and Kelce.

You peer over his shoulder, trying to figure out if this is a game he can pause or not.

You should wait then, he’s busy, and like, he’s going to think it’s stupid. Actually, maybe you shouldn’t ask him at all—

“I can hear you lingering back there. Do you need something, baby?”

“You can’t hear me,” You grumble, stepping forward so you’re lingering next to him, instead of behind. “I don’t need anything. Just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Ooooooooo!” Topper and Kelce both coo, their voices tinny and barely audible through Rafe’s headphones.

“Shut up, both of you,” You say, leaning down to rhe microphone on the side of Rafe’s headphones, “Neither of you have girlfriends.”

“Yeah,” Rafe chuckles, “The bitchless don’t get to say anything.”

“Rafe, don’t call girls bitches.”

“But you call girls bitches.”

“That’s because I am a girl. And a bitch.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re not supposed to understand it.”

He shakes his head then pushes his headphones partway off his head. “What’d you need to talk about? Something important?”

You shake your head. “It can wait.”

He frowns, muttering out a quick “bye assholes,” To Topper and Kelce before clicking out of his game and taking his headphones off.

He spins in his chair, facing you. “How’s it work that you call me a dickhead without shame but can’t tell me when something’s wrong?”

You shrug. “Cause sometimes you’re being a dickhead.”

“And the other part?”

A slight, embarrassed flush begins to creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”

“Mmm,” He hums, clearly dissatisfied. “What did you want to talk about?”

You steel yourself.

“I don’t want you spending so much money on me anymore.”

“Absolutely not.”

His words are firm and resolute, leaving absolutely no room for argument.

It’s a good thing you were graced with the ability to make room for an argument. Runs in your family.

“Rafe,” You start, crossing your arms- to which he immediately rolls his eyes with a groan, “I’m serious. You gotta stop. It’s too much.”

“It’s not.”

“It is! It keeps me up at night, worrying about all the money I owe you—“

He drags a hand down his face. “I’m going to stop you right there, because you’re being stupid again. You don’t owe me anything. Why do I spend money on you, baby?”

“Because… you have poor spending habits?”

He rolls his eyes again, reaching forward to grab your hands in his, tugging you forward. “I spend money on you because I like to.”

“I don’t know why.”

“You’re not supposed to understand it,” He says, parroting your earlier words back at you. “Seriously. There’s no way in hell I’m going to stop spending money on you.”

You sigh, and he squeezes your hands consoling.

“I know, I know. Must be so hard having an unlimited budget and a hot boyfriend.”

“Shut up.”

He pulls you down for a kiss, something gentler than usual. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Despite what he said, your guilt prevails. Then, it sticks its greedy little fingers into your brain and takes root, and suddenly you’re thinking about all the other ways Rafe spoils you. And surely it can’t last, right?

It’s a little twinge when he picks you up from work. (it’s not that far from his house, but multiple trips is a lot of gas, and gas isn’t cheap and that’s more money—)

It’s a prickle on the back of your neck when he insists you borrow his clothes or use his shower. (Luxuries, because his clothes are so much better made than your own and imagine the water bill with another person using the shower—)

And sometimes —it sounds stupid but you can’t help it— he’s just too hot. You just look at him- at the set of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbones and the rippling muscle of his bicep and how he fucking smells, and you just can’t seriously believe that he’s yours. (He always says he’s your boyfriend with such emphasis on the word yours. Like he belongs to you, not the other way around.)

You hate it, because really, you need to enjoy what you have, because it’s what practically every girl dreams of having, but the fear, the guilt— it’s invasive. A little parasite that eats away at your confidence. Makes you feel just a little sick, all the time.

“Alright,” Rafe says one day, pulling you aside into the travel section of Barnes and Nobles —the most secluded, because who even uses the travel section anymore?— and leveling you with a look. “You need to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wro—“

“Don’t give me that shit,” His voice lowers, “We’ve been in here for nearly thirty minutes, and you haven’t picked out one book. You haven’t even looked at one. For you, that’s like the apocalypse. What’s wrong?”

You freeze, panicked. “I think we should break up.”

“No.”

“Wha— You can’t just say no.”

The muscle in his jaw jumps. “Yes I can, because that isn’t the issue.”

“Yes it is, this isn’t working out—“

“Yes it is.”

“Are you just going to refute everything I say?” You hiss.

“I am because you’re lying, right to my face.”

He leans down so you’re face to face. “I’m gonna ask one last time. What’s. Wrong.”

“I don’t know!” You explode, whisper shouting. “I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t know if something’s wrong with me, or if we’re not compatible or what. I just…”

You sigh, slumping. “I feel so guilty, all the time. For all the money you spend on me, and all the stuff you do for me. I feel like a bad girlfriend, and I feel like you don’t think I can take care of myself.”

He leans back against a bookshelf. “So when I spoil you, the thing that’s my job as a boyfriend, you feel guilty?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I’m doing this because I don’t think you can take care of yourself?”

“Yes? I don’t know.”

He gazes at you for a beat, eyes flicking over your form.

“If you would just tell me the name of that guy—“

“No. You would actually kill him.”

“He’d deserve it.”

“Not the point here, Ray.”

“Kind of is,” He mumbles, turning his head.

You’re both silent for a few moments, and you’re sure you’ve gone and ruined things when he speaks again.

“Tell me what you need.”

Your shoulders hike up to your ears. “I don’t know what—“

“Yes you do,” His eyes are half-lidded as he looks down at you. “Tell me what you need. Use your words.”

Your skin feels hot and flushed.

“You’re not going to like it.”

He sighs. “You get all up in your fuckin’ head about stuff and you never stop to ask if I even care.”

“You—“

“I’m obsessed with you. I will always give you whatever you want, every time you ask, whenever you ask. Do you understand?”

You nod.

“No. I want to hear you say it.”

“I understand.”

“You understand what?”

“That you’re obsessed with me, and you’ll always give me whatever I want, every time I ask, whenever I ask.”

He hums, satisfied. “Good girl. Now tell me what you need.”

“Reassurance,” You breathe, a rush of words and air. “It’s stupid, because—“

“Don’t start with your independent woman bullshit.”

You frown, but continue. “I just don’t want to be overbearing.”

He snorts. “I don’t think you could be overbearing if you tried. You hardly ask for anything. Crank it up, baby.”

You groan, stepping forward into his awaiting arms and smashing your face into his chest. “But that’s exhausting.”

He wraps his arms around you, slowly rocking you side to side. “And doing everything yourself isn’t?”

“Different kind of exhausting.”

“Mm. I see.”

You pull away, peering up at him through your lashes. “Are you really obsessed with me?”

His lips twitch. “Is that all you got from that conversation?”

“It was the only important part.”

He leans down and plants a kiss on your nose. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person who hasnt noticed.”

He tugs on your hand, leading you back through the store and letting you wander through your favorite sections, this time stopping to actually look at things. Every time you step away without handing it to him he pushes you back, giving you a stern look.

“I don’t want to get the whole store, Rafe.”

“You could.”

“You’re not helping.”

With effort, you manage to thin the stack to the ones you actually want, not just everything you’re interested in. Rafe gives a huff but allows you to put some of the books back, but only under the promise that you’re not doing it because “you’re being stupid again.”

When you get back to the car, small stack of books in your lap, you decide to give the whole ‘asking for things’ a go.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Are you upset with me?”

The rumble of the engine starting reverberates through the car. “No.”

“Are you annoyed with me?”

“Hold onto your books, I’m turning. No.”

“Are you planning on being upset with me anytime soon?”

He squints at you. “Is this going to take long?”

“Depends on your answer.”

“No.”

“No to what?”

“Your dumbass question.”

“It’s not a dumbass question.”

“Yes it is. Who the fuck plans to be upset with someone?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You’re so lucky I’m obsessed with you.”

—

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?”

You’re sitting on his bed, legs crossed with his head pillowed on your thigh, arms wrapped around your waist. It’s a warm evening- his bedroom window is cracked open and the salty breeze wafts through the room, pleasantly cool air coming with it. You’re wearing a matching set of silk pajamas— they were expensive as hell and probably one of the only things you don’t feel bad about Rafe buying for you, just because they’re so damn comfortable.

His eyes are closed in contentedness as you slide your hands down his neck and over his shoulders. He’s forgone a shirt tonight, and if you look closely, you can see goosebumps left in the wake of your slow, deft hands.

“Before we started dating- that time in the car. You said you like me because I’m mouthy and stubborn. But I’m not really that mouthy and stubborn now. Do you like me less?”

He squeezes you tight. “Doesn’t your brain have an off switch?”

“No.”

He grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, his throat vibrating against your legs as he does it.

“Okay, first of all, you’re still mouthy and stubborn as hell, just in a different way. And no. I don’t like you less. If anything, I like you more.”

You worry your lip between your teeth. “How come? I thought most of my appeal came from the challenge.”

“That’s bullshit, baby. I like that you’re mouthy and stubborn. I also like that you’re soft and squishy too.”

His hand drifts lower, kneading flesh as it goes. “Really like that you’re squishy.”

“Mm. I think I’m a little too squishy.”

He presses his face closer to your tummy. “Are we talking physically or metaphorically here? You’re losing me.”

“Mm. Bit of both.”

His nose presses into the plush flesh. “No.”

“Just no?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

He squeezes you once, then relaxes again. “Please go back to rubbing me, baby. Your hands feel so fucking nice.”

“Where do you want rubbed?”

“Anywhere. Jus’ wanna feel you.”

He falls asleep before the sun sets fully, breaths tickling your stomach and arms still firm around your waist.

The guilt starts to whither.

—

You’re going to do it. You’re going to ask him for something before he can offer. You’re gonna do it. It’s not hard. You can do it.

You slide into the passenger side door, leaning over to give him his customary kiss.

“How was work?”

“Can we please stop at that coffee place I like on our way?”

He blinks, taken back by your request for a moment. He recovers quickly, a smile tugging at his lips as he gives you another kiss, this one a little more heated than yours.

“Of course we can. You want that drink you like? The one with the cold foam?”

You nod, trying to discreetly rub the sweat from your palms onto your pants.

“Aww, look at you,” He coos, “So worked up over a little coffee. You spent your whole shift worryin’ about this, didn’t you?”

“Not the whole shift.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“It’s just a little coffee,” He teases, “No need to start worrying.”

“Too late.”

“Then we better go get that coffee, huh?”

He stretches his arm across the console, hand finding the meat of your thigh and just resting on it. It feels almost like a reward.

—

He catches on quick that you are, actually, trying to ask for things. Even though your skin prickles a little bit everytime, because you can do these things yourself, of course, but Rafe always gets this pinched look on his face when you insist on doing something yourself.

Rafe says that you’re the weird one in this scenario, not him. That most girls jump at the chance to sit back and let their boyfriend’s do all the work. But that just doesn’t sit right with you. It feels… unequal. If he does everything, if he takes care of you, then what are you bringing go the relationship?

“Your hot ass, for one.”

You swat his arm, sitting on towels on the beach in front of his house.

“I’m serious Rafe!”

“When are you not?”

You swat at him again, but he just chuckles, pushing up so he’s leaning back on his elbows. “Any chance you’d be satisfied with the ass answer?”

You give him a look.

He sighs. “Figured not. Okay,”

He rolls over, lying on his stomach and staring up at you. You cross your legs, absentmindedly taking his face in your hands.

He tips his head into your palms. “Permission to get mushy?”

“Permission granted.”

His eyes, nearly the same shade as the ocean behind him flit over your face before he speaks. “Well for one, you don’t take my shit. Pretty sure my family likes that about you.”

“As if you actually listen.”

“Don’t interrupt, I’m being mushy for you. You take care of me too. It’s cute as shit. You don’t even realize when you’re doing it. You’re doing it right now.”

You frown. “I am?”

“Mhm,” He taps your hands on either side of his face, “Just like this. So stop worrying about it.”

“But like, this doesn’t require any effort and I like doing it, and—“

He raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, you maybe have a point,” You concede, brushing a thumb over the crest of his cheekbone. “But it still doesn’t feel equal. I’m not doing anything, really.”

“You are. Don’t sell yourself short, angel,” He presses a kiss to your palm, then turns back to you, hand sliding over yours. “I promise you. It’s fair.”

“You promise?”

“Mhm.”

“You have to say you promise.”

He leans up and captures your lips in his, slow and soft and warm. The kind of thing that makes your stomach flip and your insides melt.

He pulls back, lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“I promise.”

—

Slowly, slowly, you allow yourself to enjoy things. Enjoy your insanely hot boyfriend, enjoy not having to worry about money- for anything, big or small.

Sometimes you buy something small just for the thrill of it. Sometimes it makes you guilty afterwards, sometimes it doesn’t.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah baby?”

“There’s a sale at Victoria’s Secret—“

“Get in the car.”

Some things he’s definitely more enthusiastic about than others, but, for reasons you don’t understand, he really does just enjoy spending money on you. “Doing his boyfriend duties,” as he’d put it.

A small part of you is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the longer it doesn’t, the more you settle into the comfort and, dare you say it, love that he wraps you in.

“Ray?”

“Hmm?”

You’re at a bonfire at the Boneyard, a scaled down version of the usual event that the bonfires end up being. Not a big turnout tonight— probably because of the cold snap threatening to turn summer into fall.

Rafe comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dipping his chin into your shoulder, lips warm and soft where the meet the skin of your neck.

“You need something, sweetheart?”

You hum for minute, thinking. Sometimes you just want him near. You’ve come to learn you’re actually a very tactile girlfriend— when your boyfriend actually makes you feel loved and cared for.

“Can we go home soon?”

“Of course baby.”

“We should stop and get some food. M’ a little hungry.”

“Yeah? We can stop wherever.”

“And I was thinking,” You pause, the teeniest curl of apprehension poking your chest, “Maybe we could go out tomorrow? Go to a couple shops?”

He mouths the side of your neck, breath warm. “I think that’s a great idea. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Cause I get to show off my girl. My beautiful,” He sucks at the skin of your neck, a shudder running through you, ��beautiful girlfriend.”

“Mm, what about me? Don’t I get to show off my handsome, sexy boyfriend?”

He grins against your skin. “Anytime you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

You aren’t either.

݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

717 notes · View notes

oatmealwrites · 6 months ago

Text

JJK Mens' New Year Sex Resolutions!

(fem. reader )

The 2025 resolutions of your favorite JJK men! How they want to start the new year with a bang!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Higuruma Hiromi, Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: p in v, orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m & f receiving), public sex, car sex, lazy sex, anal, rimjobs, fingering, blindfolded, nudes, cuck, 18+, MDNI, NSFW

A/N: not proofread, just threw this together hehe

masterlist

HAPPY NEW YEAR

~~~~~~~~~

Nanami Kento - Public Sex

You and Nanami have a routine and regular sex life that fits perfectly into both of your schedules. It’s final exam week at your uni and you’re stressed? He’s already checked your exam schedule and makes sure to fuck you senseless as soon as you’re home from the last final. He has a big project due at work soon? You already know he can spare 15 minutes to have you suck him off in the home office! The resolution to make it even better? More public sex!

This is because you and Nanami have already banged against every orifice in your apartment. He’s already filled you up with his cum in a mating press on the living room floor next to the coffee table.

Public Sex is his resolution because while yes, he loooves to take his time with you, taking the initiative is something he wants to get better at. In the car on the way to a big presentation: he’d love to empty his balls into your cute little mouth. At the mall and trying on a new dress: let’s see how it looks from below when you ride his face in the large dressing room stall.

The thought of being caught and ruining the ‘put together’ facade is enough to make his cock twitch painfully in his slacks. When he sees you hop in his car wearing the sluttiest little skirt, that you swear you didn't know showed off your panties when you bend over, would be hiked up to your waist while you ride him in the back seat. (of course the car is parked… in the parking lot of your uni ;) )

Overall, Nanami will still take his time with you and be the perfect gentleman he is…. He just wants to show you how much you mean to him in the moment as well. Fogged car windows and dressing room noise complaints are in your sex future for 2025!

Choso Kamo - Nudes

You and Choso have a very passionate and playful sex life that’s incredibly fulfilling. He’s a gamer (headcanon) and loves when you tease him while he’s on the mic with his friends (Inumaki and Yuji always make fun of him). Choso gets so hard he has to mute his mic and listen to his friends make fun of his shitty KDA while he’s balls deep in your pussy while you ride him. You also loveee the way he’s always trying to learn about you and your body better; he literally begs you to let him finger and eat you out because he wants to be the best boyfriend ever! So what could make your sex life better than extending it to photos and videos!

He of course would never make you send something you didn’t want to do (fucking you irl is best the thing ever anyways) … he’d be fine sending you nudes even if you didn’t reciprocate.

BUT, if you did want to partake and send Nudes …

He would get so hard seeing a ‘ping’ on discord and opening it to a photo of your hard nipples through your baby t-shirt. Or imagine you’re at work/cramming for exams and you get an audio message of him moaning your name while he’s jerking himself off. Choso would go ahead and buy the 2TB storage of Google Photos to make room for everything. Every photo he sends of his painful erection in gray sweatpants would be favorited, and every lingerie mirror selfie you send goes straight to ‘my eyes only’. (let him take your photo after he cums on your tits and he’ll even consider buying a ring for your pretty little finger)

Even if you two travel or spend the night with friends, there will always be a steamy video/photo/audio waiting in your messages to keep you company. Messages with the subject ‘don’t open in public’ are in your sex future for 2025!

Geto Suguru - Anal

Ok so to start, you and Suguru are very content with your current sex life as is. There is no better feeling than the delicious sting of his cock splitting you open while fucks you drunk, and no better sight than seeing his hot cum spilling out your weeping cunt. Suguru never oversteps a boundary, grateful to have you in his life through every dark and depressing moment he has; and you’re so lucky to have a boyfriend that would literally destroy the entire world if it made you happy.

That being said, whenever he has you in doggy, he can’t help but look at the other puckering hole. He swears it winks at him. In 2025, it would start naturally: by him just dragging a finger on your rim, and him casually licking lower to graze your asshole every time he eats you out. If you notice and call him out, he would act casually that he was curious and would stop right away if you were uncomfortable.

BUT, if you’re into it and want to explore that side? He’s more than enthusiastic to try Anal. Suguru would purchase more than enough lube to coat one finger and work its way into your ass while the other hand rubs circles on your clit to keep you stimulated. Words of praise leave his lips with every act; he’s only quiet when you let him eat out both holes. (he would also consider letting you eat his ass… it happens when you’re sucking his cock and your finger grazes his balls and asshole… it makes his mind open a bit)

If you get to the point you want him to fuck you that way, he’s so slow and patient with you. Enough lube to turn the bed into a slip and slide, and vibrator on your clit to keep you on edge, Suguru would start out slow before fucking you into the mattress. His new favorite sight is seeing his hot cum seep out of your cunt and ass while you’re wearily panting from such intense orgasms.

Water-based lube and small butt plugs are in your sex future for 2025!

Gojo Satoru - Lazy Sex

Ok, hear me out, because Satoru is so damn busy all the time, and despite his carefree attitude, he would want some slow sex in 2025. He’s constantly traveling for jobs, ‘educating the youth’, and running the household of his own family, so a lot of times this leads to passionate and intense sex whenever the moment arises. Fucking in the backseat of a car (with the divider up, so there’s some privacy), while Ichiji is trying not to crash at the sounds of moans filling the air, sucking him off with only 10 minutes to spare before his next meeting, and riding his face while Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara blow up his phone asking what the next lesson is. It’s amazing, but exhausting.

Neither of you are unsatisfied, but this year he wants to take his time.

Lazy Sex applies to the soft side Satoru has (which most people in his life forget about considering he's constantly viewed as only a weapon).

2025 will bring slow sex in bed on Sunday mornings before either of you get up. Soft kisses on the back of your neck while his erection grinds into your ass, Satoru would hike your leg up and slide in. Lazy thrusts, open mouth kisses, and light praises make up the scene; the gentle sunlight on your face when you cum is enough to make Satoru’s heart do backflips.

Lazy sex would also be riding him in your shared apartment, movie on the television, and dinner ready on the table but long forgotten. He’d hold your gaze and whimper everytime you praised him and acknowledged how good he was making you feel. Though his schedule rarely allows it, Satoru would love slow sex with tooth-rottingly sweet aftercare. Cuddles and slow kisses with limbs intertwined, a quiet moment with you could satiate him for a lifetime.

With Satoru, fuzzy throw blankets and warm baths together post-fuck are in your sex future for 2025!

Higuruma Hiromi - Blindfold

Higuruma and you have a great sex life currently, making time for each other in between work and daily activities; you’re both super satisfied. He loves when you ride his face and rut against his slutty nose, creating moans from your lips so angelic he’s sure this is heaven. And despite his attentive nature to you, the way he bullies his cock into your cunt has you wondering if he secretly hates you.

This year, he wants to try something new..well, new in the bedroom. Everyone knows justice is blind… so why not bring that into the bedroom with a Blindfold in 2025?

He approaches you with his satin black tie one evening, awkwardly wondering if he could cover your pretty eyes while you two had sex. What you weren’t expecting was the way every sensation was heightened. Each thrust of his cock into your snug cunt had his cock kissing your cervix so much better than it ever felt before. Seeing his cum drip out of your pussy from the mating press you were currently in, your eyes still covered as pants escaped your lips, have Higuruma ready for round 2 or 3/4/5/6..

After using his tie on you, it doesn’t take much convincing to use it on him. At first he’s a cheater, lifting up the fabric to watch the way your tits bounce as you ride him into oblivion; he only stops when you pry his hands away from his face. The pleasure of the sensation has him wondering why you both hadn’t tried this sooner! Though of course he still likes to watch your eyes roll back in your skull when his cock splits you open… so maybe he can use his tie to tie you up? Maybe in 2026…

With Higuruma, get ready for satin ties and blindfolds in your sex future for 2025.

Ryomen Sukuna - Live Studio Audience!

Now, Sukuna is a man with a big ego (and big cocks), so he’s always trying to find new ways to make your mind drunk in pleasure. Any position is ok with him, and he’s not threatened by sex toys… though if you cum, it HAS to be on his fingers, tongue, or cock. So when you’re already fucking in public areas and in the privacy of your home… what else is there than to bring someone else to the scene with a Live Studio Audience.

This isn’t a three-some, there’s no one else you need to satisfy your desires anyways, it’s a cuck. The idea of having someone else walk in while he’s balls deep in your cunt turns him on more than he would like to admit. A third party watching the way you come undone from his touch feeds Sukuna’s ego even more.

But if you were genuinely mortified, he wouldn’t keep leaving the door unlocked (on purpose). Sukuna also genuinely enjoys having his alone time with you; it’s nice to get away from the stupidity of everyone else and just ravish you for an evening. BUT, when he’s jealous or especially needy, having someone watch the way he’s ruining your cunt turns him on more than he’d ever admit. (never Yuji or Jin though… he’d rather die than his family watch the way he’s about to continue the bloodline)

With Sukuna, unlocked doors and a chair conveniently facing the bed are in your sex future for 2025.

this is my first post like this! lmk if you like this style in addition to longer fics and one-shots! (also idk where this idea even came from, i had 5 hours till ball drop and decided why not)

likes/reblogs/comments all appreciated

happy new years everyone! ╰(´︶`)╯♡

-oatmeal

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solarpunkwarlock · 2 years ago

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Ways to Live in Direct Opposition to Capitalism

I am by no means an expert in any of these things I’m gonna talk about, so keep that in mind! I am just making a compilation of things I know of that we can do to lessen the stranglehold the capitalist lifestyle has on us while enriching our lives, our surroundings, and the lives of others. Please add anything I miss or correct anything I may be getting wrong! Anyway here goes!

Use what you have, fix what’s you can, make what you can, accept from others, thrift what you can, and finally purchase as a last resort.

This is advice I have seen float around here a couple of times that can apply to a lot of things including clothing, furniture, food, and more besides. It’s meant to be done roughly in that order as it applies to what you’re wanting/needing/doing. It’s about preventing waste, promoting self-capability, having a heightened reliance on your community, and consciously rejecting the ingrained habit many of us have to just purchase things or services.

Here’s where you can read about growing an indoor garden!

Here’s where you can read about sewing things yourself!

Here’s an online site for giving and receiving items for free!

Here is where you can find a local Mutual Aid to get things from, learn skills from, give do, volunteer for, etc. (in the U.S.)

Be politically active! (from a U.S. perspective)

Vote for every election. Know your representatives and those who will be competing in the next election. Vote without ignorance and without falling for unfounded claims. While operating within the system that actively oppresses us will not bring about the future we want, it can serve as damage control (preventing worse candidates from taking office) and it can potentially create a national atmosphere more open to change.

Here’s a good article about getting more involved in the U.S. political process.

Here’s a site that will show you how to register to vote, when and where elections are held, and more!

Here’s good advice on finding protests in your city!

Here’s some readings on unionizing! It’s your legal right to unionize!

Here’s a more user friendly site for learning about unions!

Be active within your community!

Developing strong, motivated, capable, knowledgeable, and inclusive communities is the ultimate way to combat the relentless and bleak present and future. When you’ve worked on the things above and have gotten good at it (or even if you haven’t gotten good at it yet), start spreading what you know and what you can do with others!

Give your neighbors, coworkers, and friends some of the vegetables you’ve grown.

Invite your community members to volunteer events.

Talk to folks about how to vote, when you’re doing it, etc.

Take part in Mutual Aids to teach what you’ve learned or whatever you may be an expert in! Invite neighbors, friends, and coworkers when you take part in the Mutual Aid!

Accept your community. Take them for who and what they are. Discrimination is the enemy of cooperation. You have much more in common with everyone in your community than a single billionaire or corporation. We’re all passengers on this spaceship earth.

Do it one step at a time!

Obviously we can’t do all of these things at once. Do what you can when you can, and you’ll start to notice real change in your life!

Our online communities where we talk about our visions and hopes are fantastic, but they have little impact if we don’t actually get up and do the real work that change requires.

Want to be better, and keep hope for the future!

Harbor and nourish that desire to be a better person and to be the change you want to see in the world. You need to be hungry for a better future if you plan to make it through the rough times when everything feels pointless and without hope. Reach out to others when you’re down, and be someone others can lean on when their lives get hard.

That’s it! Please interact with this, spread it to others, and add your own thoughts and ideas! It’s important that we do the real work to get the change we crave!

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natashashill · 6 months ago

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tell me you love me

pairing: agatha harkness x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ angst, hurt/comfort, cunnilingus, thigh riding, happy ending

a/n: this was my first time writing smut so tell me if it sucks so i can improve lowk but i have some more reqs to get to so hopefully it’s only up from here!!!

summary: based on this req

Opening up the text, you couldn’t focus on anything else for the rest of the day. Agatha’s text was vague, asking you to meet by the campus cafe once you were done with your classes. Her text lacked its usual warmness, something that was reserved for you alone. You turned your phone off immediately after shooting off a quick confirmation, trying to focus on your upcoming meeting with Professor Maximoff, who never tolerated distractions. You were so close to finishing your senior project, and her guidance is crucial to helping you finish.

The meeting flies by, with the two of you reviewing source material necessary for the finishing touches on this presentation. Soon enough, you were packing up your things and getting ready to head to the cafe. You check your phone for any other messages from Agatha, but there were none. You make your way to class with a slight frown, a funny feeling in your stomach deeping with every step made.

You see her sitting at a corner table, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at her phone. You take a few hesistant steps towards her, until she can see you. Her head slowly raises, a small smile gracing her face but it fails to meet her eyes. She gets up to meet you in a hug and waits until you both place your orders before saying anything.

“Y/N, I know that you’re about to graduate and I just need to say this now and get this out of the way. You’re such a smart girl with such a bright future ahead of you and my precious girl, I cannot be the one to hold you back. I’ve seen the way you worked so hard for this degree and I refuse to hold you back. I love you so much sweetheart, but you have your entire life ahead of you. You have all this time to explore the world and meet new people, and I know it will be a matter of time before this comes to the end. I don’t want this to end bitterly, I love you so much and I have only love for you. I will always cherish you and be rooting for you, but I can’t keep seeing you anymore, I need to let you go.”

You stare blankly at her while your brain starts to process what she just said. Almost at perfect timing, your server comes back with your orders, and she drops eye contact to focus on her drink. Your eyes start to well up with tears and suddenly your throat feels extremely dry.

“Agatha, I don’t want to break up with you. I love you, I only love you. I don’t want anyone else in my life, but you. I couldn’t have made it through this year without you, I can’t imagine my life without you now.”

She looks up at you with a watery smile, but you can tell she’s made up her mind. Your heart plummets at the thought of the situation. You start to replay all your moments in the head.

The movie nights at her place after she came back from work and picked you up from college along the way. Your head on her shoulder as you both giggled through another cheesy romcom and shared a pint of ice cream.

Your birthday, where she pulled out all the stops to make you feel cherished. Inviting all your friends and planning a special party, where you ended up going to a beautiful dinner before returning to a surprise party with all your closest friends. You knew she was behind the entire thing especially when she came up to you with a small box at the end of the night containing a small necklace with a heart pendant that you haven’t taken off since.

You slowly go to grasp the necklace when you realize what she’s doing, paying the bill. You hear her say that she knows you won’t understand right now but she loves you and is looking out for you. You face the window as she exits, not willing to believe that she’s truly walking out on you right now, six weeks before you were graduating.

You blew up her phone for the next week when you realized what she had actually meant but you received nothing from her. No texts, no calls, and not a single voicemail. Two weeks later, she sends you single text stating how much she loves you yet she cannot continue to be with you when you have your whole life ahead of you. At that, you cry. You cry and cry and cry and mourn all the good times you have had that she seemingly gave up on.

—------

Three months have passed, and you still can’t get her out of your mind. You graduated, she sent you a bouquet of flowers with a congratulations note you couldn’t bear to throw away. It sat tucked away in a small corner of your bedroom until it died, where you could throw it away without another hesitation, although you did save the card, not that you would ever admit it. You started your first job, now stuck in a cycle of long days, before mustering the last of your energy into making something to eat and passing out until the next morning at 6am sharp. You mourn the love you used to have with Agatha, how lively everything was with her, and her encouragement that would set you ready for whatever you needed to face.

Agatha wasn’t doing any better. Her days became increasingly longer since she decided to end things with you. She couldn’t stomach her thoughts, wondering if you replaced her yet, someone new and younger who was more worthy of your affection. She knew deep down that she made the worst decision of her life by ending things with you but she couldn’t escape the thoughts that made her feel that maybe she was saving herself from the heartbreak that would have occurred if she waited until you met someone else. She avoided everything that had anything to do with you, too afraid that she could run into you while you’re with someone else, not even eating the same ice cream brand anymore. Her work days became increasingly longer, hoping that she could avoid the outside world, and hopefully you.

Her co-workers drag her out one Friday, deeming that she works to hard and needs to get out more. They drag her to a local karaoke bar where she immediately beelines to the bar, ordering a double shot of tequila and a lime. She started to loosen up for the first time in three months, starting to forget about you. Her time came next, choosing to sing Shallow. Just as she finishes wrapping up the song, she sees someone enter, someone who just happens to be you. She hurriedly exits off the stage, hoping you wouldn’t notice her. She orders another drink and nurses it, hoping you wouldn’t recognize her there. Unexpectedly, she hears your voice next to her as you order out a martini, and she hesitantly lifts her head up.

Interestingly, your friends decided that evening would have been the perfect time to reconnect through all of their busy schedules. You dressed up for the first time since graduation, hoping that you would finally be able to focus on anything but her.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

Your head whips around faster than it ever has, and all of your pre-gaming efforts went out the window as you lock eyes with her. You’re unable to speak, but you notice her. The subtle differences, how dimmed her eyes look now, how her eyebags grew. You manage to slip out a simple hello when you realize you’ve been staring at her for quite a bit now.

She reaches out towards your hand on the bar, stopping her hand right before yours, hesitant knowing she doesn’t have the right to reach out to you anymore.

“How are you sweetheart?”

“I’ve missed you”

Oh.

You shouldn’t have said that, but you couldn’t help but blurt it out. Her eyes have always been hypnotizing to you, and you couldn’t help but be putty around her. Your gaze quickly drops to where your hands are before slowly returning to her face, catching the way she’s looking at you hungrily. You have just a second before she leans in closer and kisses you. You kiss her back, arms wrapping around her and moving closer, you hope you never have to break apart.

Her arms wrap around your waist as she stands up and tugs you closer. Her lips capturing your bottom lip before leaving your mouth entirely.

“I’ve missed you too sweetheart, so much my darling.”

That’s all it takes for you to bring your lips back to hers. She kisses back for a second before slowly pulling back and leaving you with a small pout. She chuckles but takes a long look around making sure her co workers are thoroughly distracted, before gently moving towards your ear.

“Come home with me baby, even if it’s just for tonight, let me make you mine again.”

You let out a small gasp before whispering a small yes. You see the smile return to her face, the same way it always used to be. She covers both of your tabs before ushering you to her car, focused on getting you both home as soon as possible.

She just barely gets the front door open before you’re on her again. Lips desperately meeting hers and she kisses you back just as desperate. Her hands meet your waist again and she guides you both towards the couch. She lays you down before breaking the kiss, hands making their way towards the hem of your shirt, making a single tug, eyes meeting yours in a silent question. You nod and she starts unbuttoning your shirt, leaving small kisses and praises as she goes. After eagerly throwing your shirt somewhere you’d have to search for tomorrow, she goes straight to unhooking your bra. You look down at her with your eyes half-liddled, practically keening in anticipation with what she’s doing but to your temporary disappointment, she makes her way back up to your lips.

She meets you in a harsh kiss before making her way down to your neck. She starts sucking harshly and you let out a breathy moan, letting your hands get tangled in her hair. She makes her way down to your tits, lightly teasing one of your nipples with her tongue, before wrapping her lips around it and gently sucking. Your hands tighten around her hair and press her closer. She brings one hand to twirl and twist around your other nipple while bringing the other closer to your pant zipper. She takes your nipple out of her mouth with a small pop. She quickly unzips your pants before bringing them down leaving you bare with just your panties. You lock eyes with her as your hands untangle from her hair and move along her back until the reach the zipper of her dress. She gives you a small nod before you quickly unzip the dress. She busies herself back in your neck in the meanwhile, leaving marks that you’ll have a hard time justifying to your friends when they see it the next day. Leaning back to step out of the dress, she slowly removes her own bra for your enjoyment, savoring the look on your face as her tits come into your view. She leans eye level with your crotch, lightly rubbing your clit through your soaked panties.

Another moan escapes you and your hips involuntarily buck upwards, desperate for more. She softly slides your panties to the side, before slowly licking a stripe up your core. The first taste of you makes her desperate and suddenly she’s harsher than before. She places one arm at your hips to prevent you from moving, while they other goes to keep your thighs apart. Her tongue swirls around your clit before bringing her lips down and harshly sucking a few times. You can’t stop the moans that leave you and you bring your hands back into her hair, lightly pushing her head closer to where you need it. She doesn’t relent, lips harshly suckking your clit before slipping her tongue inside your core. Your fingers tighten around her hair and you feel the vibrations from her moan against you. She focuses back on your clit, sucking and teasing before slipping a finger into your core. She starts to pump her finger in and out, and your moans grow increasingly louder. Your fingers tighten in her hair, your thighs start to shake, and she knows your close. She adds in a second finger, sucks extremely hard on your clit, and suddenly you’re falling apart for her. She works you through the aftershocks, lightly pumping in and out while whispering sweet praise, before removing her fingers and bringing them up to her lips to taste. She catches the look in your eye and she sends you a small wink while gently rubbing her other hand against your thigh soothingly.

As she stands up, you let out a soft whine of displeasure to which she shushes you softly. She gently leads you upstairs to her bed, settling you in the center and slipping out of her panties before making her way to join you. Your lips meet once again in a passionate embrace and her hands hold your face as if you could slip away any second. Every moan that leaks through only spurs her more as she straddles one of your legs. She starts rocking her hips and your hands attempt to guide them, before she pulls them away and pins them over your head. The new angle gives her a better angle as she rocks her hips and her hair drapes over her face. The sight is too much for you to handle and you wish you could frame how she looks in this moment. Spurred on by your eager gaze, it doesn’t take long for Agatha to call you her desperate slut and push her leg closer to your center. Her degradation only turns you on more and you eagerly buck your hips against her thigh, desperately seeking whatever friction she allows you. Agatha watches you desperately hump her, the sight only pushing her closer to her climax. Pressing her knee right at your core, she eagerly watches as your face twists in please and it only takes another second for you to reach your peak. Watching you come undone, sends her over the edge as well and she breathes out a desperate I love you while she comes. She drops slightly next to you, out of breath but refusing to take her eyes off of you. She looks up at you with a soft smile and sweetly asks you to stay, and you knew you couldn’t resist her. You settled against her chest with the covers wrapped around you both and when your eyes started to droop, you didn’t resist.

Everything came crashing the next morning when you woke up to an empty bed. You look around desperately, hoping that there’s still a chance she may be in the bathroom or the kitchen. When you hear nothing, tears start cascading down your cheeks rapidly. You check for a note but there’s nothing and you can’t wrap your head around the fact that she just left you alone. Wrapping the covers around you, you start to sob and bring back all the hurt and pain that you felt when she first broke up with you. Suddenly, you hear keys rattling in the door and you rush downstairs as she’s entering the door. She drops her bags at the sight of your tear-streaked face and engulfs you in a hug as you reach her. Your sobs turn into wails as you bury your face in her neck. She rocks you both gently while whispering sweet nothings hoping to soothe you slightly. She gently pulls you away before reaching to wipe your tears.

“My darling girl, what happened? What’s gotten you so upset this early in the morning?”

You take a deep breath as you attempt to answer and she gently rubs your back encouraging you to speak.

“I thought you left me again. I woke up and you weren’t there and there wasn’t a note or anything saying you would come back and I thought you wanted me gone. I don’t want to be gone, I wanted to wake up in your arms again. I missed having you with me, I hate every day that I don’t get to be with you, and I wanted you back. I assumed that you thought this was going to be a mistake and that we can’t see each other again anymore. I love you so much and I want you to love me back.”

You look up to see tears glistening in Agatha’s eyes as she takes in your words. She gently cradles your face in her hands before speaking.

“My love, I’m sorry I haven’t made things clearer for you. I love you so much, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you the entire time we were apart. It was my own insecurities that lead me to break things off with you. I refused to believe that you would still want me after you graduated, that you would see past this infatuation and find someone who’s more your age. I didn’t realize the extent to which I woud hurt you and for that I can’t even begin to apologize. As for last night, I have to admit, I was worried about where to go from here, but I don’t think I can leave you again. You mean too much to me for me to walk away again and I want you to stay with me for as long as you wish. My intention this morning was never to leave you alone, I went on a quick grocery run to get ingredients for breakfast in case you were willing to stay. I’m so sorry you woke up alone my love but I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

You don’t respond but you fall right into her arms again, allowing yourself to fall and trusting her to take care of you. She knows that you love her just as much and that you will talk more on this later, but she focuses on making sure you’re alright and letting the future deal with itself. She guides you back to bed, bringing you back under the covers and wrapped safely in her arms as you start to drift asleep. She presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before letting sleep claim her as well.

notes: i absolutely adored this prompt so thank you to whoever sent it in. i hope this is okay and everything you could hope for!

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #talia’s fics ໒꒱.*

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