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munsonify · 1 month ago

Text

admiring

pairing. bob reynolds x reader

summary. three times bob catches you staring, and the one time he confronts you about it

content warning. slight nsfw thoughts 18+ (very very brief/light detail), a little angst but mostly just a load of fluff, pining, new avengers!era and new avengers!r, mentions of insecurities (bobs), overthinking (both bob and r), non-established relationships

word count. 3695

a/n. i’m hardcore projecting myself into some of this my bad gang. also the dialogue kind of sucks so im sorry. not proofread

———

the briefing room

it had been an oddly quiet day for bob. he’d spent it alone, catching up on laundry that was 2 weeks overdue, finishing a book that’d been glued to his hand for the past couple days. there wasn’t a single interruption, not a single word spoken or an accidental run-in from anybody on the team.

bob hadn’t quite noticed until around 6 in the afternoon, lounging on his bed, staring at the ceiling. music played lowly in the headphones he had on, fingers thrumming against his chest in tandem with the soft bass in the back. normally by now, he would’ve had a knock at his door from walker, or a handful of missed texts from yelena claiming they needed him for something important.

he found that the word important meant very different things to these people.

the only person who seemed to have a grasp on what that was was bucky - who, by the way, was the one who interrupted his incredibly peaceful day. the thrumming of his knuckles against bobs door broke him out of his trance. letting his eyes roll into the back of his head, he pushed himself off of his bed, tugging his headphones off and letting it settle around his neck.

bucky was standing outside bobs door, visibly annoyed. and as if reading his mind-

“can’t let you rest for too long, kid. val wants us down in the briefing room in ten.”

“did she say why?” bob asked, scratching the back of his head. he really didn’t want to deal with her today.

“nope,” bucky told him, shaking his head in disbelief. “she barely ever does. just be there, got it?”

that’s how bobs perfectly fine day turned into a raging headache. val had practically nothing of value to say, and even if she did, he wasnt listening. after five minutes of sitting in those god awful office chairs, his mind began to wander elsewhere. specifically, it went to how comfortable his bed had been just 20 minutes ago.

what snapped bob out of his thought was the odd feeling that someone was staring at him. with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes began to flick through the room until they landed on you.

in the few short months that the team had been living inside of the tower, bob hadn’t quite gotten a read on you. he’d spoke to you briefly in passing, just a simple hello, but never anything more. that seemed to be how you were with everyone though. quiet. he never took quietness personally. needless to say, seeing you staring at him caught him by surprise.

bob saw the way your eyes grew wide the moment he noticed you. you quickly pried your eyes away from his, your fingers that were once fiddling with a pen grew steady, gripping it enough for it to bend and nearly snap in your hold. his eyes lingered on you for a long few seconds, trying to finally get his read on you, only to fall short.

he wondered if, by accident, you had zoned out just like he had. that’s happened to bob before - zoned out directly staring at someone he didn’t mean to be. he remembers how mortified he’d been when that’d happened. surely, that’s what you’d done. simply tuned out of the conversation at hand.

and while bob left it at that, your mind started to spin.

for the weeks that you’d known bob, you’d grown a raging sense of curiosity about him. even from the beginning, there was something about the man that intrigued you - it wasn’t the serum he’d stumbled upon or the powers he’d gained from it, no. it was the way he carried himself, awkward and lanky with a sort of sideways confidence tied in with it. the sharp features he had didn’t seem to quite fit him you didn’t think, though you couldn’t help but admire them, especially in contrast to his soft, round blue eyes.

you were simply admiring bob when he’d caught you staring. god you wished he hadn’t. despite how entranced you were with him, you’d barely spoken to him. you couldn’t quite bring yourself to hold a conversation with him just yet. eventually, you were sure you would.

———

the training room

training with walker was always exhausting. he’s a diligent, hardworking, relentless man who strived for perfection - of course that shines through when he trains. it was good practice sparring with him, and you always felt good about yourself after somehow managing through workouts with him. still, you were over the moon when you finally called it quits for the day.

“you did good, just remember to keep your shoulders back when you’re throwing punches,” walker commented, tossing a cool towel at your chest.

“thanks walker,” you mumbled as you searched around for your crisp water. neither of you were the best with words, so you kept it at that. simple. effective.

your knees nearly gave out on you as you bent down to grab the water you were in desperate need of. walker was somewhere across the training room putting away the rest of the equipment you’d used today. somehow, he still had the energy to do all of it. you simply chalked up to the super serum. it makes you feel better about yourself.

through the clanking of metal, you could hear footsteps approaching the training room. the sound of two voices slowly began to echo into earshot, one in which made your heart miss a beat or two. you looked down at yourself in agony.

with the towel hung around your neck to soothe your heated skin, you began to realize just how worn you looked. your thin tank top clung to your sticky skin, sweat dripping slightly down onto the floor below you. your knees were trembling still, something that only worsened the moment he walked into the room.

yelena strutted her way into the room with confidence, bob right behind her, nearly tripping over the foamy mat as he stepped onto it. you were quick to look at the man - tall and clumsy, wearing workout clothes you were sure he’d never wear out of this room. your mind was quick to move from your appearance at the sight of him.

while your confidence has grown the longer you’d been in the watchtower, you still couldn’t bring yourself to communicate properly with bob. you were beginning to be a little better with it, making small talk that eventually died down after a few minutes. otherwise, you fell short.

“i was just telling bob how you finally did the widow move,” yelena spoke out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. a few awkward moments passed as you realized bob had caught you staring again before you forced your eyes away. “it was pretty badass.”

you hummed out in agreement with yelena, taking a nervous drink of your water as you started your way towards the exit. this was your time to leave before things became worse for you.

“yeah,” you chuckled nervously, small smile playing on your lips. your eyes glanced over at bob, who hadn’t let you out of your sight since he’d caught you. “‘s a pretty cool move. glad to finally master it.”

“oh, i didn’t say master,” yelena quipped, pointing her index finger at you sternly. “i just said you did it.”

“i’m sure you did g-great,” bob finally spoke, stuttering slightly on his words. he knew the widow move, he’d seen yelena do it himself. the thought of you doing it successfully had him choking on his words.

he was quick to move past your stare this time around, his mind otherwise preoccupied. that didn’t stop him from wondering on it later in the day, long after the both of you left the training room. he still chalked your gaze up to nothing but a coincidence, even if it did have him a nervous mess.

———

the kitchen

it was never uncommon for bob to stay up through the night. silence was hard to come by in his mind when he had so much to think about. when he became restless like this, he turned to quiet walks around the tower to try and clear his mind, or a book to read to try and suppress it all. unfortunately for him, none of his coping mechanisms quite worked for him some nights.

the coffee that just finished brewing was the first of many attempts bob made to keep his body going today, the late night turning into a very early morning. he could already see the sunrise on the horizon out of the corner of his eye as he poured the coffee shakily. his normal mug was sitting in the sink, the insides stained slightly by coffee he had drank the day before. the man settled on a mug with a garfield graphic instead.

bob glanced over at the stove, a huff of air coming out of his nose the moment his eyes found the time. 6:05. the grip he had on the mug tightened while he finished preparing it. with hunched shoulders, he shuffled over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair just enough for him to slide into it. he wanted nothing more than to rest in his bed, large and warm and welcoming. but alas, his mind still wouldn’t quiet down, not quite. a buzz rang low and steady in the back of his head.

that’s when you walked in. bobs head snapped up the moment he heard your quiet footsteps, eyes that were once unfocused on the table focused in on your figure as you stumbled into the large kitchen. he could feel his whole body tense, throat tightening up slightly as you glanced over at him and offering him a small smile.

bob noticed that he tensed up around you a lot. he was prone to nervousness around you. everything about you captivated him - the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way you carried yourself. even if you never really interacted with him, he couldn’t help but admire you. a part of him knew that he tensed up around you for another reason. that weird little staring problem you had, one that only seemed to be directed at him and no one else.

“g’morning,” you spoke, voice quiet and a little raw from sleep. bob gave you a half-hearted smile back, mumbling a good morning to you. his eyes began to dart between you and the open space that surrounded him in an anxious sort of way. he wasn’t quite sure where to put his eyes.

“mind if i have some?” you asked, thumb motioning over to the pot of coffee on the countertop. you were already grabbing ahold of a floral mug in the cabinet, though, like you already knew the answer.

“‘course,” bob nodded. he suddenly became aware of how he must look - hair a mess, eyelids drooping and bloodshot, a slump to him that he couldn’t straighten up to save his life. he tried to distract himself from his own appearance with yours.

not in a bad way, never a bad way. simply in a curious way. with your back to him, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, he noticed that your baggy shirt had a few holes in it. it reminded him of the clothes he wears to bed, old and worn and perfect to sleep in. as a matter of fact, there was a hole in the armpit of the shirt he was wearing now. most of his clothes were like that.

bob noticed that you poured an obscene amount of milk into your coffee, almost too much. he was well aware of the bitter taste, a taste he didn’t like much, but this was just absurd. he could excuse it though on accounts of you being so pretty. even fresh out of sleep, you caught his eye.

his gaze snapped back to the table the moment he noticed you starting to move again. you turned around, mug in hand, before waddling yourself over to a seat. you sat at a respectable distance from the man - far enough away so that you weren’t crowding his personal space, but close enough so that it didn’t seem like you were allergic to being around him. you sometimes wished you could consider being a chronic over thinker a hobby.

you found your eyes wandering off to bob again. it’s like they couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. the first thing you noticed about him was his eyes, and how tired they looked. you were aware he struggled to sleep. there had been nights where you had caught him walking the halls of the tower while you were in search of a glass of water or a late night snack. he truly looked exhausted this morning, though, like he was forcing his body upright.

your eyes eventually drifted down to his hands. bob had both wrapped firmly around his mug with two fingers slipped beneath the handle. if you hadn’t known there was a garfield mug inside of the pantry you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint what the orange peaking past his fingers was - bobs hands were large.

you blinked a few slow, hard times as you processed that thought of yours. you watched as a pointer finger of his traced the ceramic rhythmically, a grounding technique of his. you began to wonder what his fingers would feel like against you, dancing against your skin like they were that mug. you wondered what his hands would feel like against your face, warm and a little shaky. you wondered what they’d feel like against your hips, firm and unmoving as he held you close. the thought of his hands drifting further down your body has your head going a little fuzzy.

it wasn’t until bob let out a strained cough, shifting uncomfortably in his seat that you’d realized you’d been staring for far too long. your bottom lip that somehow traveled between your teeth was released from its confines quickly, eyes darting away immediately. now it was your turn to tense up.

while bob didn’t say a word, his mind began to swirl. of course, the moment he’d thought he’d had his mind under control, his thoughts began to betray him again, picking right back up at the speed from earlier.

why were you always staring at him? what he once thought was a coincidence was now quickly spiraling into something that had to be purposeful, personal. was he doing something wrong that was making you stare? were you upset with him? were you wanting the mug he was using? or was this all in his head? couldn’t be.

rather than asking you, bob chose to do nothing but sit in his uncomfortable-ness. this was something for him to deal with when he wasn’t so tired.

———

the common area

it was hard to find peace and quiet in the tower. between constant bickering, mission briefing and debriefing, and simply existing together, noise was something that was inevitable. while a fact, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. that’s why you appreciated any silence you were handed greatly. today was no different.

for the first time in two weeks, the common area was empty, motionless, and quiet. you were quick to occupy one of the squishy rocking chairs that inhabited the open room, resting into it and sighing in relief. the warmth of the sun spilled into the room through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, engulfing you perfectly. the sun wasn’t shining in your eyes, though it gave you the exact lighting you needed to get some reading done.

with your feet propped up on the now reclined chair, you did just that. in peace.

there were only two other members of the team inside of the tower. bucky was in his room, finally finding peace in the quiet tower just like you were. without walker and ava bickering, or alexei’s usual obnoxious demeanor, he didn’t have anyone to rope him into their bullshit. you liked bucky, and bucky liked you. you respected each others personal space.

bob was also inside the tower. though, while you respected each others space, you somehow always ended up within it anyways. at the beginning, you didn’t mind his company. he’s thoughtfully quiet, and you found that he made good conversation. but now? now all you wanted to do was crawl out of your skin and hide while he was near.

he made you painfully shy and insanely flustered and you hated it. the worst part? it didn’t even seem like he was trying.

it’s why you tensed up the moment you saw bob walk into the common area. you were sure that if you weren’t partially facing towards the entrance you wouldn’t have noticed him. the man was always so quiet on his feet. your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing a small smile on your lips to acknowledge and greet him.

bob offered up a small, toothy smile back at you, fingers wiggling slightly in a wave. if you weren’t so caught up in breathing properly you would’ve noticed the way he cringed at himself, nose crinkling up all cute as he overthought and instantly regretted his hello.

he went over to a chair closer to the windows, slipping on his headphones, before fumbling with his phone to find music to play. bob loved having this opportunity. it wasn’t often he could sit and listen to music, simply staring out the window and into the large city. sometimes he admired the sight, looking at what hustle and bustle he could make out down on the streets, scanning the skyline for everything and nothing. other times, he simply just stared, engulfed in his own thoughts or the music he had playing.

and, despite pressing shuffle on a good playlist of his, bob decided that thinking was the way to go today. especially since the thinking had to do with you, and how he desperately wanted to confront you. now would be the perfect time. you two were alone, and bob was sure bucky wouldn’t find his way in here anytime soon.

even if the man didn’t intrude on the conversation, bob felt like he was cornering you. you were so clearly enjoying your quiet time, engulfed in a book he couldn’t quite see the title of. he’d hate to interrupt you. that was until he caught you staring. again.

in your defense, you were also deep in thought. bob looked so cozy in his seat, a large black hoodie engulfing him in warmth, hair slightly disheveled. he finally looked well rested, too. you were simply admiring the man as your mind started to run laps, wondering how it’d feel to hug him, feel the warmth he felt right now. you didn’t even really notice you were staring at him this time.

“do you, like, hate me or something?” bob blurted out, breaking the silence between the two of you. he was quick to take his headphones off, placing it in his lap with a little too much force. your book that was once loosely grasped on your hands was in your lap in an instant, pages fluttering shut, losing your place.

“what?” you croaked out, eyes wide. you began to shake your head quickly. “no!”

bob couldn’t help but scoff. “are you sure? it kinda seems like you do!”

“yes, bob, i’m sure!”

“then what’s going on?” he asked you in a weak voice. his eyes were owlish as he stared at you, face etched in nothing but worry and anxiousness. bob looked like he could cry. “if you want me to give you space i can, i just… i wanna know why you’re always so weird around me. why you always stare.”

your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach as he spoke, guilt and anxiety filling your bones as you tried to think of a response. all this time, bob thought you didn’t like him, that your staring and your awkwardness was out of spite, not out of admiration.

“bob,” you let out, voice cracking slightly as you adjusted upright in the chair you sat in. “i’m sorry, i don’t hate you.”

a hand found its way to your forehead, rubbing gently as you let out a shaky breath. you couldn’t believe you were about to say any of this.

“i stare cause i think you’re really nice to look at. like really nice. and you’re always so kind to me. i just get so nervous around you and i forget how to act. im so sorry i made you think i hated you or something, i actually quite like you.”

those round blue eyes of bobs don’t leave you even after you’re done speaking. they stare into you like it’d hurt to leave, or like he’d miss something important if he didn’t keep staring. you noticed quickly that his hands started to mess with the headphones in his lap, anxiously feeling against the warm material.

he tried and failed to push down the adorable red blush that started to creep up his neck, the tips of his ears thankfully hidden beneath his hair. this way, he was able to spare some of his dignity. your confession had him flustered and at loss for words. which really sucked right now. you were staring at him again, this time expectedly. you’re patient, you always had been - that didn’t stop him from feeling like he needed something to say to you, and quickly.

“oh,” bob whispered, only barely finding something to say to you.

“yeah,” you whispered back, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on it anxiously.

finally, bob had something meaningful to contribute. “i think you’re really nice to look at too.”

he let out a relieved sigh the moment he saw a small smile play on your lips. this time, when you looked over at him, bob didn’t overthink it. he didn’t question himself, or try to fold in on himself. he simply let it happen. he let himself stare back at you, eyes gazing into yours, smiling just like you were. it finally felt right.

#munsonify #bob reynolds #robert reynolds #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds imagine #bob reynolds x you #bob reynolds x y/n #bob reynolds imagines #bob reynolds x reader #robert reynolds imagines #robert reynolds x y/n #robert reynolds imagine #robert reynolds fluff #robert reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader

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thedropsofblood · 7 months ago

Text

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

#bottom male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #uke male reader #sub male reader #idk what tags to add #orginal post #mlm nsft #mlm #isekai #vel fic #gender neutral nsft #gender neutral reader #male reader smut #x male reader #male reader insert #oc x male reader

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smutmind · 26 days ago

Text

The Summer Guest ft. Sana

Sana x Male Reader

The heat wrapped around the house like a second skin.

Sana was here for the summer. She’d just quit her corporate job in the city—something about marketing, a bad manager, too many emails. She wanted to start her own business now. Something artistic, she said, something freeing. But first, she needed space. Time to breathe. And what better place than the quiet suburbs with her older sister and her stay-at-home husband? You.

Your wife worked long hours managing a boutique downtown. You worked from home—tech and marketing projects, mostly. Your days blurred together in email threads and analytics dashboards. Sana’s arrival jolted the routine. Not just because of her presence, but because of how present she was.

She was 27. Confident. That easy kind of sexy that didn’t even feel styled. Tight tank tops, soft skin, no makeup. Her laugh carried. Her hips swung just slightly when she walked. Her tits—gravity-defying, round, unapologetic. Her ass was the kind that made you imagine grabbing it in your sleep, holding it through denim or under a dress. Your wife was beautiful—always had been—but Sana had a pulse that throbbed through the air.

She fit herself into your life like a drop of ink in clear water. Subtle at first. Then unavoidable.

You noticed it in the mornings. Her robe never quite closed all the way. Her nipples pressed against the thin cotton, teasing without intention. Or maybe with. You couldn't tell.

The first awkward moment came three days in. You walked into the kitchen for coffee and saw her there—bent over the fridge, robe rising to show the curve of her thighs. Her bra sat draped on the counter. She looked up and smiled like it was nothing.

“Morning,” she said, voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you mumbled, eyes fixed too long before darting away.

Later, in the hallway, she passed you in a tiny tank top and shorts, bare feet padding against the wood. You turned to say something—you don’t even remember what—but your words caught because her nipples were hard, clearly visible, bouncing slightly with each step.

She didn’t mention it. Neither did you.

But you noticed her bra again that evening—forgotten on the laundry chair. Cream lace. Lightly padded. You imagined how it cupped her. How it felt under your palm.

She was everywhere. Curling up on your couch with one leg tucked under her, reading your books. Sipping wine barefoot on your porch, her toes painting idle patterns on the railing. Sitting too close on the loveseat with her thigh brushing yours. Not on purpose. Maybe.

Every interaction made your pulse climb. She knew how to stretch. She knew how to bend at the waist when she dropped something. She wore dresses that caught wind just right.

You found yourself timing your breaks to when she was likely in the kitchen. Once you stepped in to find her eating cherries with her fingers, juice sliding to her wrist. She sucked it clean, eyes on you.

“Want one?” she asked.

You said no. But you watched her mouth. The way her lips closed around the pit. You imagined things you shouldn’t.

One night, you went to get water and found her in the dim light of the fridge, wearing only a shirt. Your shirt. You recognized it. Too big on her, loose at the neck, hanging low enough to flash a cheek as she turned. She didn’t apologize. Just grabbed a bottle and padded back down the hallway. That was the night you started fantasizing.

Guilt followed you to bed.

You began avoiding eye contact. You locked the bathroom door when you showered. You double-checked the guest towels before doing laundry. Every small measure was an attempt at distance. But desire doesn’t care about rules. It festers in silence.

The turning point came a week in.

You were making lunch. She came up behind you, hands on the counter beside yours. Close enough to feel the heat off her skin.

“Smells good,” she said.

“It’s just grilled cheese,” you replied.

She leaned in, chin nearly on your shoulder. “Still. There’s something about watching a man cook.”

You didn’t answer. Her voice scraped nerves you didn’t know were exposed.

When you finally turned, she hadn’t moved. Inches apart. Her lips shiny, parted. Your gaze dropped to her chest, rising with each breath. You met her eyes. She didn’t blink.

“Do you ever think about things you shouldn’t?” she asked.

You should’ve walked away.

Instead, you lied. “No.”

She smiled. Bit her lip. Turned and walked out.

You couldn’t eat.

The grilled cheese turned to rubber in your hands. You scraped the plate into the trash, running water louder than it needed to be. Her smile lingered like the scent of her shampoo in the hallway—floral, sweet, innocent enough to feel like a lie.

The next morning, she was already on the porch when you stepped out. Legs crossed, sun catching on her thighs. A sports bra today. Tight. You told yourself that meant she was being decent. But the way it cupped her chest, the outline of her nipples firm under the fabric, told another story.

“Sleep okay?” she asked, voice like a lazy hum.

You nodded. “You?”

“Dreamed about thunder,” she said. “Woke up wet.”

You froze. She looked over with a sly smile. “From the rain, I mean.”

“Of course,” you muttered.

She laughed, the sound light and deliberate. You noticed how her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup.

That day, your wife texted—late shift, manager meeting, won’t be back until after dinner. The pattern had become familiar. You worked at the kitchen table. Sana moved through the house like she owned it.

At noon, she came out of the shower in nothing but a towel, damp hair dripping down her back. “Laundry room’s locked again,” she said, stepping close. “Mind unlocking it?”

You did. But not before your eyes dragged across the slope of her chest, towel barely holding.

“Thanks,” she said, and lingered too long.

By Thursday, you were avoiding her like a bad habit. But she kept reappearing—sweeping near you, reaching over you, laughing at nothing. You dropped a spoon. She bent to grab it first, ass grazing your thigh.

“Oops,” she whispered.

You started staying longer in your office, headphones on, door cracked just an inch.

But then came Saturday.

Your wife left early. Sana wandered in while you were fixing a leaking faucet. She stood in the doorway in cutoff shorts and a crop top, licking a popsicle with way too much attention.

“Need help?”

You said no. She sat anyway. Cross-legged, leaned forward, cleavage deep and shadowed.

“Why do you always run away from me?”

You tightened the wrench, jaw clenched. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She tilted her head. “So it’s all in my head?”

You didn’t answer.

That night, she sat on the porch swing while you grilled. Her foot kept brushing yours. When you looked, she held your gaze, licking BBQ sauce off her finger slowly.

After dinner, you washed dishes. She walked up behind you again. Same way as before. Only this time, her hand touched your hip.

“You keep pretending,” she whispered. “But I see how you look at me.”

Your hands shook in the soapy water. “I’m married.”

“I know,” she said, her breath against your neck. “That’s why it’s so hot.”

You turned, too fast, bumping into her. Your bodies met. Her chest against yours. Her breath catching.

“Tell me you don’t want it,” she said.

You couldn’t.

She leaned in, lips grazing your jaw. Not a kiss. Just a suggestion. Then she walked away.

You stood there, soaked, aroused, ashamed.

The next morning, she wore your wife’s robe.

“Laundry day,” she said, spinning slowly. It was too short on her. The belt tied low, hint of hip, hint of skin. You swallowed hard and left for a walk.

Later that day, she passed you a bowl of cherries. Same as before.

This time, you took one.

And watched her mouth suck the pit clean.

The moment felt suspended, sticky with intention. Her lips pursed around the pit, eyes holding yours as she rolled it slowly across her tongue. When she spit it into her palm, she did so gently, like the cherry was some sacred offering. Your throat tightened.

“You’ve been tense,” she said.

You scoffed, but it came out strangled. “Work.”

She stepped closer. “No, it’s not.”

The air between you shrank. She reached out, plucked another cherry, and pressed it to your lips. You hesitated.

“Bite it,” she whispered.

You did. Juice burst across your tongue. Her fingers brushed your chin, slow to fall away. Her breath was warm. She leaned in, slowly, waiting for resistance that never came.

The kiss wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Melted. Her lips opened just slightly, letting the taste of fruit and heat pass between you. You pulled back first.

“We can’t,” you said, voice low.

“But we already did,” she replied.

You left the kitchen. The cherry pit still in your mouth.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The next day, she caught you in the garage, shirtless, fixing the mower. She walked in barefoot, carrying two popsicles.

“Hot,” she said. You weren’t sure if she meant the day or you.

She bit into hers and made a soft noise of satisfaction. You tried to look away. Failed.

“You know what’s killing me?” she asked.

“Sana.”

She moved closer, slow, deliberate. “It’s this time of the month. My body’s aching. Like I’m empty and hungry in all the wrong places.” She licked the melting popsicle, slow circles. “Everything inside me wants to be filled. And it’s worse now. Every step, I feel it. Every brush of my thighs, every breeze through this thin shirt.”

You dropped the wrench. “Don’t do this.”

She didn’t stop. “I’ve been trying those herbal supplements. You know the ones? For energy and balance.” She chuckled. “But now all I do is wake up soaking. Touch myself twice before noon. And it’s not enough.”

She looked you in the eye. “I see you watching. I feel how you hold your breath when I pass. You want me.”

“You’re my sister-in-law,” you said, stepping back.

She smiled. “Your wife’s little sister.” She let the words drip like honey. “Her baby sister. And she left me here with you.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Doesn’t it?” she interrupted. “You think I don’t know how wrong this is? That’s why it’s been building. That’s why it’s this good already.”

She came closer, body warm, eyes glowing. “I’m not asking for promises. I’m asking for now. Right here. In this moment.”

She dropped the popsicle, let it clatter to the concrete.

Her shirt peeled off next. No bra. Her nipples peaked, skin flushed.

“I’m dripping,” she whispered. “I want you inside me. Raw. Deep. Like you mean it.”

You looked away, jaw clenched. “No condom.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s part of it. I want to feel everything. You, the heat, the pulse. I want to know what it’s like to be claimed.”

Her shorts slid down, slow, deliberate. No panties. Her thighs slick, bare, shameless.

“You can still say no,” she said. “I’ll walk away. But if you take one step toward me, I’m not stopping until you make me scream.”

You stepped.

Your hands caught her hips. She gasped, then crashed her mouth into yours. The kiss was teeth and tongue and wild hunger. Her hands fumbled at your waistband, pulling you close.

You didn’t lift her yet. Instead, you pulled back, foreheads pressed. Breathing hard.

“This is your sister’s house,” you muttered. “She sleeps in our bed.”

“And I sleep down the hall, alone,” Sana whispered, lips grazing your cheek. “Alone and wet every night. Because of you.”

She kissed your neck, soft, teasing, the tip of her tongue tracing your pulse. Her hands slid beneath your shirt, palms hungry. “She gets you. I hear her moans through the wall sometimes. I imagine you making me sound like that.”

You clenched your jaw, but your hands tightened on her hips.

“She’s going to come home eventually,” you said.

“I’ll be gone before she pulls into the driveway,” Sana whispered. “But you’ll still be shaking from it. Just like I will.”

Her fingers traced your waistband again, slipped beneath. She dropped to her knees, bare and glowing in the garage light, eyes lifted to yours.

“This is the worst thing I’ve ever done,” you whispered.

She smiled. “Good. That means you’ll remember it.”

She pressed her mouth against your stomach. Warm kisses trailing down your skin. Her voice barely audible. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the first week. Dreaming about sucking you until I forget my name. Until you forget hers.”

You groaned. “Sana—”

She stood and took your hand, guiding it down her stomach, between her legs. Her folds were soaked, swollen, eager. She leaned in, voice hot in your ear. “No one’s touched me in months. No one’s made me beg. I want to beg for you. Just once.”

You slid your fingers over her slit. She shivered, hips arching. “You’re insane.”

“Insane for you,” she said. “Do it, and I’ll carry it like a secret tattoo. No one will know. But you’ll never forget how I sounded.”

She sucked your earlobe, teeth grazing. “Say it. Say you want to fuck your wife’s baby sister.”

Your hands trembled.

“I want to hear you say it,” she whispered.

You exhaled, the words slipping before you could stop them. “I want to fuck my wife’s baby sister.”

Sana moaned like the words themselves touched her. Her lips crashed back to yours. Tongues tangling. Her thigh slid between yours, grinding against your need.

She reached down, wrapped her hand around you, guiding. “You’re already hard. You’ve been hard for days. Give it to me.”

Your mouth moved to her throat, biting gently. “This is a mistake.”

“It’s the best kind,” she whispered. “Now take me like you’ve wanted to.”

You paused. The garage walls felt too thin, too open, too exposed.

“No,” you said, breath catching. “Not here.”

She blinked, then followed your glance to the open window, the driveway. Her mouth parted. She nodded.

“Guest room,” you said.

Her eyes flared. She grabbed her shirt, didn’t bother to dress. Just clutched it to her chest and followed.

The hallway was silent. Your steps careful, adrenaline sharp. You shut the guest room door behind you.

She dropped the shirt. Naked. Wanting. Waiting.

And the lock clicked into place.

You stayed by the door, chest rising, hand still on the knob.

“Tell me you’re sure,” you said.

She turned slowly, stepping backward toward the bed. Her voice came low. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Her body was golden in the dim light, curves casting soft shadows on the walls. She didn’t hide. She opened herself to you, arms loose at her sides, eyes burning.

You stepped forward. She met you halfway.

Her hands reached for the hem of your shirt, tugged it over your head. She kissed your collarbone, soft and reverent, then lower—chest, ribs, abdomen. “I want to feel all of you,” she murmured. “Slow. Like I’ve earned it.”

She sank to her knees, not to tease, but to worship. Her lips pressed to your hip, her cheek against your thigh. “You’ve been so good,” she whispered. “Resisting me. Thinking of her. But not now. Not in here.”

Her fingers slid along your waistband again, then underneath. She peeled everything down, exposing your length. Her eyes lit up. “You’re beautiful.”

She took you in her hand, slow, deliberate strokes, then kissed the tip. Just once.

Then she looked up. “Do you want me?”

“Yes,” you said, without hesitation.

She smiled. “Then lie back. Let me show you how much.”

You did. And she followed, crawling onto the bed, eyes locked on yours. The hunger was there, but under it—something like awe.

She kissed you again. Longer this time. Deeper. Her body slid over yours, skin to skin, heat to heat. And the world disappeared.

She rocked against you, the soft friction of her body over your cock enough to make your hips buck. Her breath hitched.

“You feel like velvet,” she whispered, reaching down to guide you. Her fingers curled around your shaft again, sliding it against her slickness.

The tip kissed her entrance.

“Don’t hold back,” she breathed. “I want all of it.”

You pushed into her slowly, the warmth of her wrapping around you inch by inch. She gasped, hands bracing on your chest. Her nails dug in as your length filled her, thick and deep. Her thighs trembled.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “You’re perfect.”

You bottomed out. She held still, breath shivering, forehead pressed to yours.

“We shouldn’t,” you murmured.

Her eyes met yours. “But we are.”

She began to move, rolling her hips slow and steady, grinding herself down like she wanted to memorize your shape. Her lips brushed your ear. “This is what I’ve needed. Every night I touched myself, I thought of you. Of this.”

Your hands slid to her waist, guiding her rhythm. Her heat clenched around you. She whimpered when you thrust up, meeting her roll.

“You’re inside your wife’s little sister,” she whispered, and the filth of it made your cock throb. “She has no idea what you’re doing to me.”

She rode you harder, hair falling in your face, mouth open, gasps louder with every thrust. Your hands roamed her back, her ass, gripping, guiding.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you?” she cried.

You flipped her over in one motion, pressing her into the mattress. She moaned in shock and pleasure. Her legs spread wide, welcoming, needy.

“Show me,” she said breathlessly. “Show me how bad you want this.”

You grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the bed, body flush over hers. She gasped, eyes wide, then melted beneath your weight.

“I’m not one of your clumsy boys,” you said, voice gravel and heat. “You wanted a man—now take what that means.”

You drove into her, hard. Her back arched with a cry so raw it rattled the headboard. Her nails clawed at your grip but didn’t try to escape.

“Oh fuck,” she whimpered. “You feel—fuck—you feel like nothing I’ve ever had.”

You slowed just enough to speak into her mouth. “You’ve been fucked by boys in suits. Quick, quiet, selfish.”

She nodded, gasping. “In bathrooms... offices... never like this.”

You ground your hips in deep circles, making her sob against your throat.

“They never made you beg,” you said.

“N-no,” she choked out.

You pulled nearly all the way out. Waited. Watched her writhe.

“Beg, Sana.”

“Please,” she moaned. “Please give it to me. Don’t tease. I need you.”

You thrust back in so deep she shouted, legs locking around you.

“Good girl,” you growled. “Now you know what it’s like to be taken.”

Your rhythm was relentless now—long, claiming strokes that made her entire body rock beneath you. Her tits bounced with every slam, nipples flushed, mouth slack.

She babbled your name, incoherent with bliss. Her pussy fluttered around you, desperate, soaked.

“You’re fucking ruined,” you whispered against her ear.

She cried out. “Yes—ruin me—I want it—I want you to wreck me.”

You pushed her thighs wider, deeper than before. Her eyes rolled back. Her moans broke into little whimpers, punched out with every thrust.

“Feel that?” you said, hand on her throat now, not squeezing, just holding.

She nodded frantically. “You’re everywhere. Inside me—oh god—you’re so deep.”

You kissed her hard. Possessive. A claim.

And she kissed back like she’d die without it.

Then she flipped you.

One motion—fluid, practiced—and suddenly you were on your back, and she was straddling you. Her hands pressed into your chest, her hips sinking down again with a wet, welcoming slide.

“Let me show you,” she said, breathless but steady, “what those boys never got.”

She rolled her hips in slow, grinding circles, squeezing you inside her, her thighs flexing. Her breasts bounced as she leaned over, lips at your ear.

“You’ve never done it like this with her, have you?”

You swallowed hard.

“She wouldn’t let you,” she said, riding you harder now, her fingers running down your chest, your sides. “Wouldn’t let you lay back and just feel.”

Your hands gripped her hips. You didn’t answer.

“That’s why I’m here,” she moaned. “To give you what she never could.”

Your guilt twisted, sharp and undeniable. But it didn’t stop your hips from meeting hers.

She smiled. “That’s it,” she whispered. “Give in to me. Just for tonight.”

And you did.

You reached up, one hand at the small of her back, the other cradling her jaw. You pulled her down and kissed her—long, deep, hungry. Her moan poured into your mouth as she kept moving, grinding slow and tight over your cock.

Then you sat up, keeping her wrapped around you, your arms around her waist, your chest to hers.

Face to face.

You kissed her again, tongues twisting, your bodies locked together. She clung to your shoulders, panting. Her hips rolled like a wave, slick and strong. Every time she came down, your breath hitched. She was tight, dripping, and utterly in control—but it was you who anchored her.

She broke the kiss just long enough to rest her forehead against yours. Her voice came out in a low tremble.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you.”

You froze.

She rocked once more, slower now, deeper. “Because if you do, I’ll take you.”

“Sana—”

Her laugh was breathless, bittersweet. “Like I did with my sister’s Barbies. When we were kids. I’d steal them. Hide them under my bed. Make them mine.”

Your heart twisted. Her pace didn’t stop.

“I’d wait until she was gone,” she whispered, “then pick the prettiest one. The one she liked most.” Her mouth kissed your cheek, your jaw, your lips again. “And I’d keep it. Pretend it had always belonged to me.”

You kissed her like you couldn’t help it.

She groaned softly. “So don’t love me, okay?” she whispered. “Just fuck me. Hard. Like I’m your favorite toy.”

And you held her tighter.

She ground down harder, riding you with filthy intention, her hips slamming with desperate rhythm. Her moans sharpened, breathy and raw. Every time she dropped her hips, her walls clenched like she meant to milk every drop from you.

“I can feel you twitching,” she gasped. “Fuck, baby, you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

You grit your teeth. “No. I can’t. I’m not blowing inside you, Sana. You know we can’t.”

She slowed, still grinding, her voice purring against your ear. “But I want it so bad. Want to feel you paint me inside. Want to be your dirty secret, dripping with your cum while your wife’s at work.”

You groaned. “Don’t make this harder.”

Her lips brushed your cheek. “Then let me make it easy.”

She kissed you once—sweet, needy—and lifted off you, your cock bouncing slick against your stomach. Her hand found it instantly, stroking as she crawled down the bed.

Her voice turned playful, wicked. “You’re so fucking hard for me. You’ve been aching since I got here.”

She settled between your legs, hair wild, eyes shining. “Let me taste how much you wanted me. Let me swallow every drop like the filthy girl I am.”

Then she wrapped her lips around you, warm and perfect, tongue circling the head as she moaned like she was devouring a dessert.

You gasped. “Fuck, Sana—”

Her mouth slid deeper, taking more, her throat fluttering around your tip. She pulled back with a slick pop and giggled softly, eyes locked to yours.

“I always wanted to be your favorite. Let me prove I can be,” she whispered. “Just once. Let me ruin you for anyone else.”

Then she sank back down, bobbing slow, one hand teasing your base while the other stroked your thigh like she owned you.

You fisted the sheets, back arching. She didn’t stop. She moaned around you like your cock was her cure.

And you were about to break.

You warned her—one gasp, one broken word. She only moaned louder.

And then it hit.

Your back arched again, hips bucked. You spilled down her throat with a grunt, body spasming as she swallowed you greedily, lips sealed around your cock like she needed every drop.

When she finally pulled off, she sat back on her heels, grinning like the wicked little thing she was. She opened her mouth to show you—tongue out, thick with your cum.

She scooped some up with her fingers and rubbed it over her tits, teasing her nipples until they gleamed. “Pretty good show, huh?” she said, voice husky.

You could barely breathe.

She crawled back up beside you, her body still glowing, still needy. She kissed your cheek, then your chest, then lowered to your nipples, licking them with soft, slow flicks of her tongue. Her hand stroked your softening cock like she missed it already.

“That was perfect,” she whispered.

You stared at the ceiling, chest rising, heart pounding.

She curled against you, tracing circles on your stomach. “I’m here for another week.”

You didn’t answer.

She kissed your shoulder. “Think I’ll get another chance to make you lose your mind?”

Still, you couldn’t answer. You didn’t trust what would come out.

She smiled into your skin. “We’ll see.”

#sana smut #twice smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #smut #male reader smut #kpop idol smut #male reader

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monochromed-elf · 2 months ago

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Random astro notes 1

╔═══════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══════╗

Take what resonates! I'm no professional astrologer.

These observations are made from my experiences.

╚═══════°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══════╝

✮⋆｡ 6h Jupiter and easily gaining weight. especially if you're also Jupitarian.

✮⋆｡ 6h Jupiter also makes you suck at managing your time and tasks (Overly optimistic about it).

✮⋆｡ Again, my experience with 6h Jupiter and being called big animals.

✮⋆｡ Cancer Mercury and what is that handwriting of yours omg I'm sorry you're getting complaints about it😭 I can understand a doctor's paracetamol but not your hello.

✮⋆｡ Cancer/4h Lilith, your mother is most likely to hate on your friend with a Cancer stellium/prominent Cancer placements for no reason whatsoever. Especially if the friend is healing your mommy issues. Your mother will automatically think they're brainwashing you.

✮⋆｡ 4h Lilith also means you always try to save your mother. Don't do it. Stop that. Because she won't appreciate your attempts and will side with what hurts her! Learn that she's not your responsibility.

✮⋆｡ I feel like Gemini Mars will certainly space out during anything sexual, literally getting railed while thinking of taxes or whatever is going on. It's definitely the ADHD lol.

✮⋆｡ Gemini Venus please stop accidentally flirting with us, oh and the mixed signals.

✮⋆｡ Heavy water placements but with an Aries Moon can give off the vibes of the therapist friend with heavy random outbursts when they're tired of therapitizing everyone. Especially if Moon conjuncts Uranus.

✮⋆｡ All of the Capricorn Moons I know have heavy sociopathic traits.

✮⋆｡ Meanwhile Aquarius Moons can't stop blaming body chemicals for their emotions (dopamine and all of that).

✮⋆｡ "Choose the person who has your Moon sign as their Venus sign" is actually true. But it won't last long (maximum 2 years) and you both will become strangers. (unless you both meet daily or live together).

✮⋆｡ Mars conjunct Saturn will make you like BDSM a lot.

✮⋆｡ 4h Chiron, please do not create a family UNLESS you are healed. You'll traumatize all of your kids but fucking be an angel parent to other families. Similar with 5h Chiron but it's mostly with kids.

✮⋆｡ 4h/5h Chiron could be an indicator of being a narcissistic parent too. I'm indeed traumatized.

✮⋆｡ Always remember that Neptune=Delulu. Be careful where it is, it's both a blessing and a curse.

✮⋆｡ A close person's Venus in your 12h and omg they fucking appear in your dreams.

✮⋆｡ 9h Saturn are one of the most closed minded people I've ever met. They are seriously unable to see other perspectives.

✮⋆｡ The Sun House shows you how you treat your own dad. 11h sun: your friend, 10h: your boss, 4h: an actual parent Imao. It also can show why your dad loves or hates you because of such status: "I'm your dad stop treating me like a: (11h) friend/(3h) older brother/(5h) kid".

✮⋆｡ Fire IC/4h ruled by a fire sign is really a strong indicator of a bad family.

✮⋆｡ 3h Saturn natives bond by talking shit about their siblings.

✮⋆｡ 3h Saturn also might indicate having a loud voice (especially with prominent air signs placements).

✮⋆｡ 3h Uranus and yes 90% chance your siblings were unexpected, or you may have an unexpected story of a sibling (like you had a sibling that died before you or smth wild).

✮⋆｡ I find that Lilith/Chiron placements are so...damn, similar. Except that Lilith is horny and Chiron is actually serious about the problem lol. An example: 9h Lilith might fetishize their religious trauma/an experience with a foreigner. While 9h Chiron will be disgusted and crying and trying to fix fix fix. Lilith needs to be embraced as it is, Chiron actually needs the fucking healing instead.

✮⋆｡ One vs one opposite Nodes will either fix or ruin your life. For example you're an Aries North Node. A Libra North Node will be quite the teacher for you.

✮⋆｡ 5h/7h stelliums have the juiciest stories about their love life. But 7h is more likely to give you great advice about love lol.

✮⋆｡ Pluto conjunct Ascendant is very likely to look young compared to their age (my bestie being called a high schooler while she's in college damn).

✮⋆｡ Give a 3h Neptune alcohol and watch them become a professional poet and creatively high (Like those old Chinese/Arabic/Persian poets lol).

✮⋆｡ Neptune conjunct Ascendant, always seen as lazy and sleeps a lot.

✮⋆｡ Cancer/Pisces Mars can be actually super violent and not the usual passive aggressive shit. Especially in men.

✮⋆｡ (Vedic!) We always hate the type of men/women with our DK planet energy somehow (But we end up being really good with them). Mercury DK hates young and childlike people. Venus DK hating overly romantic and artistic people. It's life's way of saying SIKE—

✮⋆｡ Having the South Node in a sign and someone having a stellium/prominent placements of such sign (like, you being Leo South Node and you meet someone with Leo Stellium). Please run away from them. Early meetings and encounters with them feel like heaven but will slowly ruin you.

✮⋆｡ The same goes with your Rising Sign. If someone's stellium/prominent placements is in the same sign as your rising. The stellium person will be better than you at the things the sign values and your rising will become bitter. It'll be ugly. Go for people with your descendant's energy.

Thank you for reading💜

@monochromed-elf

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shouyuus · 8 months ago

Text

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

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theveryworstthing · 9 months ago

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7th Headless Haunting: The Invisible Woman

A ghost's appearance can change over time depending on the emotional connection to their former lives. This change is involuntary and inconsistent. For some, their form shifts to mirror the cause of their death, or emphasizes some other lasting trauma. Others shift into a metaphorical representation of how they view themselves. But most just look like their living forms until time makes the details slip away. Because if there's no one left to remember them properly, and they can't really remember themselves, that can trigger a disconnection from their physical past. This disconnect causes the "sheet ghost" effect, as the soul loses the shape of its previous container.

It's a sad thing, catching a glimpse of a soul losing their face. But that's part of the cycle of life and death. Everything changes. Everything fades.

Sometimes that fading is even done on purpose.

Morgan doesn't call herself Morgan anymore because she doesn't want to metaphysically dox herself.

Through the efforts of the most annoying woman she's ever met, she's become one of the most famous ghosts in the south. She did not ask for this, she does not want it, and every day she wonders how she could have possibly been charmed into a barely 3 week relationship by someone she had to politely ask to stop making tictoks in the crystal shop constantly. It was easy to blame grief and depression for the drastic lowering of standards but still. Good lord.

She realized her mistake pretty quickly, but then "Luna's" roommate supposedly kicked her out with no warning and a sick cat named Quartz. And past!Morgan, who vividly remembered how much being homeless sucked, didn't want her out on the street.

(Okay, mostly she didn't want Quartz out on the street. He was goofy and sweet and the knowledge that she liked him way more than her new girlfriend made her feel guilty.)

This was a mistake.

She opened her home to them. Payed for emergency cat surgery. Dealt with arguments over filming in the house and random strangers coming over for "guided group spiritual exploration" sessions that she wasn't allowed to be in the room for because Luna was "working". Scrubbed Luna's essential oil covered bare ass marks off of her kitchen counters. And in return, she got this woman inviting something into her home.

One night while Luna was out with friends, it came into Morgan's bedroom and left her head on the other side of the house.

She never figured out exactly what got her, but the dark twisted shape made sure to find her terrified spirit before it left, and she could feel its irritation as it inspected her. She wasn't the right target. Luna owed a dept that she probably didn't even comprehend to something very pissed off.

All this would have been bad enough, but none of it was really worth being a ghost about. She'd had worse relationships, and since grandma was gone, almost all of her loved ones were dead anyway, so she really should have left.

But what about Quartz?

She was the one handling all of his post operative care, and after watching Luna forget time after time to feed him or give him his meds or even really pay attention to him when he wasn't serving as a cuddly toy to cry on or an aesthetic set piece for videos, she decided to hang around until he was either stable or dead.

Which is how she found out about the haunted house tours.

Luna had been doing this for a while. It seems that every place she had ever lived was "haunted" and she made sure that the internet knew about all the trials and tribulations of being so spiritually gifted in a world filled with such trauma laden souls. She'd been kicked out of her last place for having a pretend spectral affair with her former roommate's dead best friend, and when she moved it didn't take a day for her to "sense something..." and start secretly profiting off of made up shit about Morgan's grandmother.

But now that Morgan was dead she had a goldmine on her hands. The gory, violent, locked room mystery death of a fairly attractive woman wearing nothing but a low cut night gown was already pretty good, but add in the lesbian romance, Morgan's family history, and the fact that Luna's True Love had recently Saved her from an Abusive Environment and Certain Homelessness? Well, that's money baby.

Morgan's friends, bless 'em, had stopped Luna from livestreaming the funeral, and got as many pictures of her body taken down as they could.

Sadly, the fundraiser to purchase her family home for "spiritual conservation" was successful.

She had no idea that her following was that big.

She really should have checked.

Anyway.

Because of Luna she's spent the last 8 years being stalked by the living. Strangers pay to sleep in her bed and record the ambient noises of her room hoping she'll show up and talk to them. They buy books made of private poetry stolen from her journals. They demonize her dead family members and speculate on horrific abuse that didn't happen because "if you pay attention to how she dressed/read between the lines in her writing, there are clues she had serious daddy issues".

Recently, there was a shitty romance novel published based on her death, implying that whatever killed her was simply mad with lust and wanted to make her his dark bride in hell.

Yes "his". Her proxy was straight in that one.

And way slimmer.

That's a reoccurring thing that she tries not to think about too hard.

But the point is that all this mess keeps her from moving on. She just... can't. She spends all her time trying to sabotage Luna's grift as best she can. She exposes all the little tricks Luna uses during her seances to show she's not talking to anyone. She actively keeps other spirits away from the house just in case any of the ghost hunting gear people haul into her living room actually works (it doesn't but better safe that sorry). She never speaks just in case a recording picks something up and she's thrown away chunks of identifying features like her face and most of her tattoos so that if she is spotted, she's harder to identify.

She's spent years staging the most intensive anti-haunting she possibly can.

Quartz died 6 months ago and walked right past the entrance to the rainbow bridge to settle in her lap, just like old times. He tries to lead her away from the house a lot. Into the sunrise, towards her grandma's loud bright laughter and the bustling sounds of a family reunion in full swing.

She wants to follow him so badly.

She just.

Can't.

#ghost story #ghost

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aciddrattboyy · 9 months ago

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Sԋαɾιɳɠ ιʂ Cαɾιɳɠ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "your boyfriend isagi lets his best friend bachira fuck you while he watches (mostly)"

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛꜱ: ★ Starring: Bachira, Isagi x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 0.8k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Adult Film] dirty talk(its bad), penetration, cucking, squirting, rough sex, threesome (characters are aged up)

▶▶

how you got into this predicament you weren’t sure. the events leading up to this blurry and hard to even try to remember. all you could think about was now. the present reality being you leaning back against your boyfriend isagi while his best friend bachira fucks into you.

“ah shit isagi- she’s so- fuck- so tight-,” bachiras onslaught of crude words made you helplessly clench around his dick. with your legs behind held up and open by isagi, you were getting mercilessly pounded into. you could hear isagi chuckle darkly from right behind you, his hard clothed dick pressing into your lower back as he squeezed your thighs.

“dont forget to play with her clit bachira,” isagi’s voice was light, playful as he let go of one of your legs to grope at your breasts instead. “wanna feel her cum on you dont you,”

“f-fuck yeah- yeah i do,” without a second of delay he lets a ball of spit fall from his lips, both men’s eyes watching as it fell down right above your sensitive clit. the groan isagi let out had your hips bucking into bachira which just fueled him even more. “you’ll cum for me right y/n? you’ll cum on my dick right? your boyfriend said it’s okay so go ahead,” you whined as bachira kept his eyes on you. there was something unnerving in his eyes and the unwavering desperate smile he had.

“a-ah fuck-,” you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of bachira pressing his thumb onto your neglected clit, pressing his fingers into your lower abdomen as he moved his thumb in tight circles.

“y/n you sound so good- hah- cum for me baby please- wanna feel it bad,” he was babbling now, head hung low as he continued to drill himself into you. the room was filled with both you and bachira’s moans along with the wet slapping of his tight balls on your cunt.

isagi, getting a tad jealous, wanted you to direct some of your attention back to him. hooking a finger under your jaw he tilted your head up and sideways to look at him before he placed his wet lips on yours.

“shit thats so hot- so hot-,” meguru’s eyes shot up when he heard your muffled moan, almost cuming right then at the sight of his teammate taking control over your mouth, “i’m close- gonna cum- pretty baby how ‘bout you ask your boyfriend where i should cum,” isagi eyes meguru as he sucked on your tongue, a slight smirk tugging at his lips at how fucked out meguru looked.

“you can’t cum until she does,” isagi’s authoritative tone has bachira’s hips stuttering. with a small whine leaving his lips, he brings his thumb back to your clit, circling it roughly.

“cum y/n please cum- i need it- hah fuckfuck- please i- i need-,”

“shit bachira- right there right there- dont stop,” your moaning had both of their dicks twitching, their eyes locking once before a dry chuckle leaves isagi.

“better keep going bachira make my pretty girl feel good she deserves it,” his voice was teasing as he left kisses along your temple, holding your lower face in his hand as he kept your eyes directed onto the scene in front of you.

“call me meguru- fuck baby please say it say my name,” bachira was panting now, babbling away as he tried so hard to not cum. he needed you to cum. needed to feel you cum around and call his name.

“meguru i’m cum- im cumming ah shitshitshit,” before you had even a moment to realize what was happening, you were squirting around his dick. you were all but seeing stars as isagi reached a hand down to slap at your clit as meguru pulled out.

“ fuck you’re so hot- squirting on me like that fucck-,” both you and meguru were a fucked out mess as isagi continued to abuse your clit and bachira kept bullying his cock before he came onto your stomach.

“yoichi- ‘s too much- w-wait-,” you squirmed in isagis hold as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. his eyes were wide and fixated on your squirting cunt, having not ever seen you do that before. bachira watched with hungry eyes as the sheets below turned dark with your cum, your squirt soaking his dick and thighs.

you began to tear up at the stimulation, desperate moans leaving your mouth as you told isagi it was too much but to keep going. having never seen isagi so dominating, bachira didn’t look away when isagi jerked your head towards him, ordering you to open your mouth before spitting inside. bachira could feel his dick getting hard all over again just from the filthy sight alone.

“fucked her so good you made her squirt,” isagi muttered as he kept his eyes on your cunt. there was no way in hell he was going to tell bachira that he was the first one to do so. “ ‘m gonna fuck her now ‘n since you were so nice to her-,” isagi was quick to reposition you so you were straddling him, laying your head on his chest as you tried to even out your breathing “i’ll let you fuck her ass,”

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

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bytemee · 5 months ago

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SO ANXIOUS, CAN’T TAKE IT — YU JIMIN.

“how do i keep these on? how do i let you know? girl, you deserve a show.

synopsis. karina learns that good things come to those that wait. or she learns that she should make sure your friend mason never speaks to you again.

pairing. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). 18+ smut, g!p reader, p in v (unprotected), one lil slap, pet names (puppy ofc), semi public sex (in a car in a secluded parking lot...whatttttt???), karina is really down bad for reader, they say i luv u so much *throws up*, yeah the smut at the end is so ugh! i cant even omg

words. 4.5k

authors note. i didnt wanna name this naked (bc the lyrics are from naked by doja cat)...prob the last of the series that'll be over 2k words and the last thing i have in the vault. everything else will be requests from u guys

this is the part where i actually make a masterlist!!! & start updating where do you sleep.. iguess

navigation. main masterlist. series masterlist. prev.

the library was unusually quiet for a weekday evening, except for the steady murmur of conversation from a nearby study group and the occasional clatter of dice on a game board. karina sat next to you, one leg crossed over the other, staring down at a confusing mess of cards, pieces, and rules she didn’t understand.

it was one of your nerd friends who made the game—mason was his name. you explained how he’d spent months perfecting it and would proudly be the narrator for your group's first playthrough. karina didn’t care about the game. she barely knew what was going on. but you were there, and that made it okay.

she wasn’t even sure how to play or what she was supposed to do. you had tried your best to explain, but mason had been explaining the rules to the other players the entire time, and karina could barely focus. your friends were mostly the same as always. all a bunch of nerds that you were close to during high school and stayed in touch with through college.

and then you introduced her to your friends; they were a bit shocked when the president of the biggest sorority on campus said she wanted to hang out. but mason quickly welcomed her with open arms.

karina looked down at the game board, trying to understand the confusing mass of colors and shapes. a large blue square seemed to represent a lake, a path snaked through a forest of green, and there were lots of small tokens and miniatures scattered across the map. the rules were long and complicated. she hadn't understood a single one.

you took a deep breath and set down a card in front of karina.

"the evil king has captured the prince's lover!" mason announced. "it is now up to you, the player, to save her. but you have been locked in the king's dungeon. what do you do?"

"i…" karina hesitated, trying to remember the few things you had told her about the game. she could either go to the prince or to his lover. but she didn't know which one to pick. her eyes met yours.

"go to the prince," you said quietly.

"no, go to the lover," mason replied. "the prince is a jerk anyway."

karina sighed, feeling completely lost. she didn’t understand the dynamics of the game—why the prince was a jerk, why the lover needed rescuing, or what the king even wanted. she was just following your advice, since you were the one who had actually learned the rules.

“the prince,” karina decided reluctantly, even though mason rolled his eyes dramatically. she picked up a miniature knight figure and moved it in the general direction of the game board’s castle.

“bad move,” mason said with a grin. “you fell into a trap. you’re dead.”

karina glared at him so sharply he actually flinched. “seriously?”

“you suck at this game,” mason teased, but then quickly backed off when he caught her stare again.

the conversation around the table resumed, with mason narrating another turn, but karina had already tuned it out. she reached over and gently brushed her fingers along the nape of your neck. it was a small touch, but one that grounded her.

for the past three weeks, this had become her life. waiting outside your lectures just to see you. tagging along to the conventions she didn’t understand or care about. sitting through endless, painfully boring games and conversations, all just to be near you. she had hoped that by doing all this, things would go back to how they were before—when the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and all you wanted to do was stay in bed together.

but it hadn’t happened. you seemed content with how things were—maybe too content. you hadn’t even kissed her since your talk in her dorm three weeks ago. instead, it was karina who couldn’t stop herself from reaching for you. every time she did, she hoped you’d do the same. but you never did.

she was losing her mind.

“hey,” she leaned down to whisper in your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. “wanna leave? go do something else—just us?”

you didn’t pull away, but you didn’t look up either. “in a bit,” you murmured, eyes glued to the game. “i’m almost at the next level.”

karina clenched her jaw. mason smirked. she shot him another glare.

later that night, karina took you out—just the two of you. dinner at a small ramen place you both used to frequent, followed by a long walk along the river. it had been…nice. easy, even. but karina had hoped for more. every time your shoulder bumped hers, her heart jumped. every time your hand swung a little too close to hers, she wanted to reach out. but you didn’t.

when the night ended, she brought you back to her dorm. it was late, and when you set your bag down by her bed, her stomach fluttered. overnight bag, she thought. you’re staying the night.

her anticipation skyrocketed as you unzipped the bag—until you pulled out an old, beat-up console and started untangling the cords. karina blinked. you knelt by the tv, plugging the console in like it was the most normal thing in the world. then you paused, your expression nervous.

“am i allowed to do this?” you asked, hesitant.

karina quickly nodded, but she wanted to scream. allowed? was this a sleepover or something?

you started setting up the game, and karina flopped down on the bed, burying her face in the pillows. she didn't know how long you were going to keep this up. three weeks had felt like a lifetime. and she had thought…no, she was sure—she had made up for her mistakes. she was doing everything right now, and yet it still wasn't enough.

the game loaded, the familiar old-school theme music playing softly through the speakers. you adjusted the controller in your hands, fully immersed. karina slowly pulled herself up from the pillows, moving to the edge of the bed where you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the tv.

what was she supposed to do? she had done it all—played the role of prince—princess— charming, and still you were slipping through her fingers like a story without a happy ending.

karina leaned forward, her fingers brushing against your hair before gently weaving through it. her touch was slow and careful, as if trying not to break whatever fragile peace had settled between you. she played with the strands absently, twirling them between her fingers, her mind half on you and half lost in thought.

your hair was soft. it smelled good. but you didn’t respond.

then, she tugged lightly, her fingertips massaging your scalp. this was a thing she did. something you loved.

but you didn’t lean back into her touch like usual. your shoulders were stiff. you didn't look at her. you didn't even seem to notice.

you kept playing.

karina felt a surge of frustration. she tugged harder, her movements no longer gentle. you grunted, your hands faltering on the controller.

"ouch, karina. what was that for?"

karina’s jaw clenched, her fingers freezing in your hair. “what was that for?” she repeated, her tone sharper than she intended. “i don’t know, maybe because i’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for weeks and you barely even notice me.”

you paused the game, setting the controller down on the floor. “i notice you,” you said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

karina moved to sit on the edge of the bed, her legs brushing against your back. “no, you don’t. not really. i show up to your lectures. i sit through hours of your nerd conventions. i come to these stupid board game nights and watch you get all excited. and yet…” she trailed off, pressing her hands to her thighs, digging her nails into the fabric. "nothing."

you sighed, running a hand through your hair where she had tugged too hard. “i'm just listening to what mason has been telling me. i don't want to overwhelm you."

her brows knitted together. mason…who was—oh. that fucking mason. karina blinked down at you, processing what you’d just said. “wait—what? what has mason been telling you?"

you sighed and shifted on the floor, still not looking at her. “mason’s been playing therapist through all of this. he told me that if we’re not a couple, we shouldn’t be doing… couple things.”

karina’s brow furrowed. “couple things?”

“yeah,” you said with a shrug. “like kissing…and you know…he says that we shouldn’t move too fast if we're not girlfriends."

"excuse me?"

mason had no business getting in the middle of her and you. and besides, what did he know about what she could handle?

her brain seemed to short-circuit. “but… you are my girlfriend.”

you finally looked at her, one brow raised. “you never asked me that.”

karina froze. her mouth opened, then shut, and for the first time all night, she was at a loss for words.

the silence stretched until karina blurted out, “do you want to be my girlfriend?”

you blinked at her. “no.”

“what?” karina’s voice pitched slightly higher. “what do you mean, no?”

“that’s not how you ask someone,” you said, shaking your head. “that sounded like you were asking me if i wanted to go run errands.”

karina stared at you, stunned. was that a joke? you had to be joking. but there was no hint of amusement in your expression.

"you want me to ask you out? okay." karina cleared her throat. she was not used to being put on the spot like this. especially not with you. this was usually the other way around.

"y/n," karina started again, her nerves bubbling under her usual confidence. "i’m serious about you. i want to be more than this… whatever this is. i want us to be together—officially. so, will you be my girlfriend?"

you leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “karina, you’re asking me in your room. that’s not how you ask someone.”

karina blinked, thrown. “what do you mean?”

“it has to be… something grand. special. not just sitting on the edge of a bed with a game paused in the background. otherwise, it won’t feel like it means much.”

karina’s shoulders slumped for a second before she straightened, her hands curling into fists. there was no way in hell she was going to let herself fail at this. if that's what you wanted, then fine. karina would make this the most special, romantic thing ever. “fine. you want grand? i’ll give you grand.”

the next weekend, karina didn’t just take you somewhere—she took you everywhere.

she planned an entire day out: a visit to a scenic lookout, a boat ride across the river, a stop at your favorite dessert café, and finally, she led you to a secluded spot on a hill overlooking the city. you walked beside her, hand in hand, admiring the view. the sun had started to set, casting the sky in shades of red and orange. it was beautiful. the kind of view you could only see if you were high above the city. you leaned against the railing, watching the sun dip lower behind the buildings below.

karina stood beside you, her gaze lingering on the side of your face. you didn’t notice. or, if you did, you didn't comment. she reached for your hand again, lacing her fingers with yours. when you didn’t react, her chest tightened. she had a plan. a script. everything she was going to say, and yet now, standing beside you, looking at the sunset, her tongue was tied.

"this is beautiful," you said, your eyes sparkling as the last rays of the sun lit up the horizon.

"it is," karina murmured. she could have said a lot of things. that's why i brought you here. this is what we could have. but she didn't. her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating.

karina turned toward you, the words on the tip of her tongue. "y/n…"

"yeah?"

"i…i need to tell you something."

you met her gaze, tilting your head. your expression softened. "what is it?"

"i want this to be perfect. i want you to remember this moment because i’m serious about us.”

you opened your mouth to respond, but she pressed on.

“i’m not just following you around because i have nothing better to do. i’m here because i care about you. and i want to be your girlfriend. officially. so… will you be mine?”

a smile spread across your lips, and her heart stopped. you nodded slowly, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "of course i'll be yours, karina."

the words had barely left your mouth before karina practically pounced on you, pulling you into a kiss. her hands were in your hair again, her lips pressing against yours with an urgency that left you breathless. when she pulled away, her eyes were shining.

when she pulled back, her eyes sparkled. “so… you want to stay the night?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “karina, it’s our first date as a couple.”

“okay? what does that have to do with anything?”

you gave her a teasing smile, leaning back slightly as you clarified, “it’s the first date as a couple, karina. you know the rules. third base only happens on the third date.”

karina blinked at you, her mouth slightly open as if to argue, but no words came out. instead, she let out a dramatic groan and fell back onto the grass, throwing her arm over her face. “seriously, y/n? third base rule? who even made that up?”

you smirked, stepping back to avoid her exaggerated flailing. “i don’t make the rules; i just follow them.”

she groaned again. "you're so annoying."

"says the girl who just asked me out with a video game paused in the background."

her groan turned into a whine.

by the time the third date rolled around, karina was determined to speed-run the process. she planned another full day of activities—brunch, a visit to an art exhibit, and a movie. afterward, she walked you back to your dorm. you felt lighter than you had in weeks, finally enjoying the ease of being with her.

as you both stood outside your dorm, karina hesitated, shifting on her feet. “so…” she started, hands fidgeting. “since this is technically the third date, maybe you could—”

you raised a brow, waiting.

“—you know, come back to my place?” she finished, giving you a hopeful smile.

you thought for a moment, lips pressed together. “mmm… i think i’m just going to sleep here tonight. my roommate’s gone for the first time in forever, and i kind of want to enjoy having the place to myself.”

karina groaned softly. “y/n… please? it feels like it's been forever since we've done anything together."

your cheeks flushed. "karina, i—"

"we don't have to do anything," she said quickly, cutting you off. "we can just watch a movie and cuddle. i won't even try to seduce you."

"karina," you warned.

"okay, okay. maybe a little. but only if you want me to!"

you laughed, shaking your head at her antics. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

karina gave you a playful pout, stepping closer. “come on, please? just a little more time together. i miss you.”

you sighed. how could you resist when she was being so sweet?

"alright, alright," you relented, giving her a smile. "i guess we could spend a little more time together."

karina let out a soft squeal, throwing her arms around you. "you're the best!"

that night, the two of you stayed up watching a movie, curled up on your small twin bed. karina's head rested on your chest, her hand stroking the skin just below the hem of your shirt. you were barely paying attention to the screen.

after a few minutes, karina lifted her head to look at you. "are you enjoying the movie?"

"not really," you admitted.

she shifted, propping herself up on her elbow. "do you want to do something else?"

you hummed, eyes meeting hers. "like what?"

karina's gaze dropped to your lips. "we could make out a little."

you rolled your eyes, smiling. "how subtle."

"is that a yes?"

"maybe," you replied, unable to keep the laughter out of your voice. "if you play your cards right."

"you're killing me here, puppy."

you shook your head. "come here."

she leaned forward, pressing her lips to yours. her kiss was gentle and warm, and her tongue flicked out to swipe against your bottom lip. you sighed, deepening the kiss. she tasted sweet, and the familiar scent of her perfume filled your senses. the rest of the movie was long forgotten as karina kissed you hungrily. her hands wandered under your shirt, tracing patterns on your skin. you pulled her closer, tangling your fingers in her hair.

when you finally broke apart, karina was flushed and breathing heavily.

"that was…"

"nice," she finished, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

"yeah." you smiled back, resting your forehead against hers. "nice."

the next week, karina found herself in a similar position—only this time, the two of you were in your car, parked in a dark, quiet parking lot. the day had been perfect: a long walk through the park, endless conversation, and laughter that made your stomach hurt.

now, her lips were locked with yours as she leaned over the middle console, one hand cupping your face while the other gripped the back of your neck. your hands found her waist, pulling her in as much as the cramped space would allow. karina’s fingers skimmed along your jaw, her lips trailing down to your neck.

"y/n," she moaned, her lips trailing along your jaw.

"mmm," you hummed, arching into her touch.

"i love you," she murmured, her hands slipping under your shirt.

you froze. "w-what?"

"i love you."

you pulled back slightly, eyes wide as you processed her words. your heart thudded against your chest. “w-what?” you repeated, not quite sure if you’d heard her right. she leaned in closer, "i love you, y/n. i’ve loved you for a while now. i couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

she paused, studying your expression. "is that bad?"

you quickly shook your head, but the shock hadn't fully faded from your face. "no, it's just…i love you too, karina—"

"then it's settled," she interrupted, leaning forward to kiss you again. her touches were firm and confident, and you could feel yourself getting swept away by the intensity of her feelings. karina had always been one to go after what she wanted, and it seemed like now was no different. she wanted you, and she was determined to show you exactly how much.

karina let out a soft gasp as you pulled her into your lap, her thighs straddling your hips. she settled easily against you, the fabric of her shirt slipping up and baring a sliver of her hip. you traced your fingertips along the exposed skin, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

"y/n," karina breathed, her hands cupping your face as she leaned down to capture your lips once more. you sighed into the kiss, your hands gripping her hips as you pulled her closer. karina's body felt hot against yours, and the air in the car seemed to grow thicker as the moments passed.

your hands slipped under her shirt, and the bare skin of her back felt smooth beneath your touch. karina shuddered at the contact, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pressed closer.

"i want you," she whispered, her lips ghosting along the shell of your ear.

"karina," you murmured, your hands trailing along her back.

"i've missed you," she continued, her lips skimming along your neck. "i've missed this. i've missed us."

your hands tightened on her hips, pulling her flush against you. "me too," you murmured, nipping at her jaw.

she pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with yours. her eyes were dark, and her lips were swollen from your kisses. she looked breathtaking.

your hands slipped back under her shirt, your hands grazing every inch of her back, her sides, and her stomach. she shivered, her eyes closing. you couldn't help but smile. she was so responsive to your touch, and it made your heart swell with pride.

a part of you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot where anyone could see you, but another part of you didn’t care. not when karina was looking at you like that. the car windows were tinted, and it was late enough that there were few people around anyway. and besides, you were beyond the point of rationality.

denying yourself of karina for the past three weeks had been torture. you had missed her more than you realized. and now, being with her again—feeling her warmth, her touch, her kisses—was overwhelming. you wanted more. she couldn't seem to get enough of you as well, her hands skimming across your skin, as if to commit the feel of it to memory. your bodies seemed to fit together perfectly, your curves molding to hers as she pressed closer.

karina's lips found your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there. her teeth grazed your pulse point, and you swore you could feel your heartbeat everywhere, like it was thrumming through your entire body. she was driving you wild, and you could feel your control slowly slipping away.

you leaned in and captured her lips once more, kissing her with all the passion and desire that had been building up inside you over the past few weeks. karina moaned against your lips, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulled you closer. she tasted like the cherry lip balm she always used, and you couldn't get enough of it.

your hands slid up her back, pushing her shirt up until it bunched around her shoulders. you pulled away just long enough to tug it over her head, tossing it into the back seat. then, you were on her again, your lips finding hers in a heated kiss.

karina's skin felt hot against yours as your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and dip. you trailed kisses along her collarbone, down her chest, and across her stomach. she arched into your touch, her head falling back as she let out a low groan. your hands skimmed along her thighs, the fabric of her pants suddenly feeling much too restrictive.

you tugged at the waistband, looking up at her for permission. karina's eyes met yours, pupils blown wide with desire. she nodded, her hands tangling in your hair. “just hurry up and take them off,” she groaned.

you slowly pulled her pants down, your fingers skimming along her skin as you went. she shivered under your touch, her eyes fluttering shut. you discarded her pants and took a moment to admire the view. she looked stunning, her chest heaving, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed.

you could barely believe she was yours.

her hands fiddled with the string on your sweatpants before she finally slipped them off your hips. the feeling of her bare skin against yours made you both gasp. it felt like electricity was running through your veins, and every nerve ending seemed to be on fire. karina's fingers tugged at the waistband of your boxers, and you lifted your hips, allowing her to remove them.

karina couldn't even begin to explain how badly she needed you. every fiber of her being seemed to hum with desire, her body aching for your touch. she had been so patient, waiting for you to give her some kind of sign that you wanted this as badly as she did. but now, with your hands gripping her hips as if you were afraid she might disappear, she knew she didn't need to wait anymore.

then, slowly, gently, she lowered herself onto you. the two of you gasped in unison, the sensation sending sparks shooting through your bodies.

"fuck," she breathed, her voice shaky. "that's— fuck, you're— oh, my god."

you clutched at each other as if you were trying to meld into one being, your lips finding hers in a searing kiss. karina began to move against you, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.

karina's rhythm was tortuously slow, like she was trying to make this moment last as long as possible. but you were past the point of patience, and you found yourself bucking up against her, desperate for more friction.

"please," you whined, and she obliged, increasing the tempo.

karina let out a low moan, her hands gripping your shoulders tightly. "i love you," you whispered, throwing your head to the side, biting your lip to keep from screaming out as your pleasure intensified.

"y/n," karina breathed, her hand wrapping around your neck as she pressed messy kisses to your face. "i love you too."

a slap echoed through the car, followed by a small giggle that shortly turned into a moan. karina bit her lip, stifling another laugh as your head snapped over to her.

"did you just slap me?"

karina nodded, still smiling. "i want you to look at me, puppy. i've missed those pretty eyes."

you tried to say something, but the words were lodged in your throat; all you could manage was a strangled moan.

you tried to say something, but the words were lodged in your throat; all you could manage was a strangled moan. karina's fingers trailed along your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone.

"c’mon…look at me, puppy."

your eyes met hers. they were dark and hooded, the pupils dilated with desire. you couldn't look away, not even if you wanted to.

your name fell from her lips in a desperate plea, and you couldn't help but smile. you knew you wouldn't last long—not with the way karina was moving against you, her hips grinding down, her hands gripping the back of your neck. the sound of her voice, the sight of her body, and the feel of her skin against yours—it was all too much.

karina's movements became more erratic, her breaths coming in short gasps. she buried her face in your neck as she reached her peak, her whole body trembling with the force of her orgasm. "y/n," she cried out, her voice muffled by the crook of your neck.

your own climax followed soon after, the two of you clinging to each other as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. you held each other tightly, neither wanting to let go, the air in the car thick with the smell of sex. you didn't know how long the two of you sat there, basking in the afterglow, but eventually, karina's voice broke the silence.

"i love you," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

you smiled, the words falling easily from your lips. "i love you too, karina."

taglist - @brocoliisscared @spidrgamer @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @kyakpack @snsgf @sscieloz @fruityg0rl

navigation. main masterlist. series masterlist. prev.

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irisintheafterglow · 26 days ago

Text

couldn't make it any harder

summary: being in love with dick grayson sucks. dick grayson being in love with you? possibly worse.

cw/tags: reformed playboy!dick grayson, childhood best friends to lovers, angst/fluff with happy ending, reader fell first but he is down BAD, explicit language, absolutely terrible communication on both sides

note: SHOUTOUT DICK GRAYSON FOR GETTING ME THROUGH MY WRITER'S BLOCK RAHHHH also i forgot how much i like writing angst, like even though it pains me to read it is sooooo fun to write angry characters lol. again this was supposed to be shorter but hey at least it's not big ol' one-shot 1k words it's 100 way from being that though

hope you like it :) hello dc enjoyers :) hello dick grayson enjoyers :)

"people like you don't fall for people like me."

there's a pause and everything is still except for the steady rain coming down in sheets. it's the furthest thing from a romantic moment, yet he still looks just as beautiful all the same. the water makes dick's suit glisten, the lightning blue bird in the middle of his chest catching glimmers of flickering streetlight. he looks like a symbol. he looks like a god. and there you were, without an umbrella, something between frustration and pure grief driving your words.

"you don't know that," he replies roughly. it would sting less if you had cursed his entire bloodline for generations to come. "you can't say that." you scoff.

"oh, can't i?" the muscle in his jaw tightens; you want to punch it. why he was angry, you had no idea, but the red in your vision was practically scarlet. "we've known each other our entire lives, grayson. you tell me how many times i've settled for whatever piece of shit comes my way because i've learned my lesson. i've fallen for people like you, however perfect and charming they are, and i know for a fact that they never fall back."

the bouquet of flowers that he'd kept in his fridge all day to bring you after patrol lies forgotten on the sidewalk. it'd been like this since you'd broken up with your last boyfriend four months ago, and your best friend began filling the void that your ex left behind. you didn't start thinking too much of it until dick started looking at you with too much care, a tenderness in his eyes that was setting off every alarm bell in your mind. suddenly, the constant excuses to see you, buy you dinner, clean up your apartment, and all the other times he simply appeared by your side made sense. you finally realize he was pitying you while you were sitting at your kitchen table, watching black clouds roll over the starless sky, and rushing out the door to get some air. he'd caught you walking aimlessly on an empty street, landing in front of you with a dramatic flourish that quickly deflated when he saw the way you were glowering at him.

"really? who, then?" he doesn't raise his voice but he does step close enough to almost be chest-to-chest, emboldened. he was the greatest detective in the city, for fuck's sake, and he's used his skills for his entire life to remember every little detail about you. dick knows everything, down to your shoe size and favorite pair of sheets, so it'd be a new experience for him to learn about one of your crushes that he hadn't already figured out. "what self-righteous, talk-of-the-town playboy did you fall for that made you think you deserve anything less than everything i want to give--"

oh.

the realization hits him right in the abdomen, sharp and present as a bullet.

it's him. he is the reason you think he'd never love you anymore than as a friend.

he can't tell if the moisture on your face is mostly rain or tears; the look on your face is worse than a punch to the stomach. your bottom lip trembles as you look up, close your eyes, and take a breath. yet, when you finally fill in the empty space in the argument, your voice is still helplessly shaky.

"i've been in love with you for my whole life, dick," you sniffle. "i've seen the way people fall at your feet, how you make them seem special and then move on like they were less than the dirt under your boots. you can't blame me for hitting the panic button when god forbid you start making me feel special." the rain starts to lighten. his fingers twitch at his sides, unsure of whether to wipe your tears or take your hands.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs, slowly raising his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing the fresh wave of emotions falling down your face. the world must be ending, you think to yourself. dick grayson is apologizing to you. "i'm sorry i ever made you think i was pitying you."

"do you actually pity me?"

"of course not," he answers without hesitation, his expression hardening into determination. you can't see his eyes behind the whites of his domino mask, but you can feel the intensity of his stare. "everything that i've done for you--been willing to do for you--has been because you deserve it." something softens in your face, your anger replaced by a sad, resolved smile.

"that doesn't change the fact that i've become another notch in your belt." his eyebrows furrow.

"how so?"

"you can add me to that list in your phone of people who fall for you that you don't love back." he shakes his head.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"because i was under the impression that people like you don't fall for people like me," he breathes, his face dipping closer to yours. you allow both of his hands to gently hold your face. "but for the first time, i'm glad to be wrong." before you could reply, his mouth is on yours, slowly, reverently. he kisses you like a promise, his hands slipping to tighten on your hips as if you'd fall through his hands if he let go. "i love you," he whispers in between breaths, over and over and over again. "i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you."

above, the stars finally begin to twinkle.

star divider by @enchanthings :)

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing x y/n #dc x you #dc x reader #dc x y/n

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wisteriaiswriting · 1 month ago

Text

Exploiter Reader Baiting The Killers

Words: 526

Request: Hiii :D can I ask for an annoying reader with hacking/exploit abilities like 007n7? They abuse their abilities to bait and mostly piss off the killers (maybe sometimes saving their teammate too on coincidence) i'd love to see (any) the killers reaction to it (and maybe 007n7 if you don't mind!) Thank youu!!! :D

Kinda fits in with my original reader concept

You were a well known exploiter, definitely not as known as 007n7 in his younger days. As you mainly trolled other players in obbys, hangout games and anything in between. Nothing to capture the attention of the admins, but it couldn’t last forever. Your luck came to an end when 007n7 started messing with a game you were in, and you couldn’t have that.

So that's how you ended up in… whatever realm this was. No hard feelings towards the guy, he was having fun and so was you, and you knew what he went on to do. He didn’t stop you from continuing your fun.

Basic abilities mentioned are:

Clones

Teleporting

Highlights killer for 5 seconds when close

Part of her finds your abilities interesting, a better version of the other one. But he also hates you.

Like, how does she keep falling for your clones, the ones that taunt them by dancing, and he constantly takes the bait. What was meant to be an easy hit or kill turns into them being stunned while the actual you laughs.

Also the amount of times your clone ran in front of another survivor and her hit, saving them while stunning them again, he swears to kill you when she finds you next.

Tries to kill you as soon as possible, even lets everyone else live just to get you.

His first thought of you was that you were cool, I mean, another hacker, like his father? Automatically cool in his mind.

Loses that thought very quickly after one match with you. You absolutely destroyed this kid's view of you.

Half of the time he just starts running whenever he sees you, mostly hiding behind his very confused father while complaining that you’re a bully.

The other half of the time he’s trying to play but has his sight set on you. In his eyes you cheat all the time and he can’t let cheaters play.

In the first few seconds of seeing you he always thinks it’s 007n7, but then stomps his foot and sends his bots after you.

Luckily he likes a challenge, although you are impossible.

Learned very quickly that it’s easier to kill you when you’re the last one alive, and that's what he does nearly every round now.

About to blow a fuse with the amount of times him and his men have cornered you just to find no one there, hearing your faint laughter from across the map.

None of them can sneak up on you due to your ability highlighting them, it gets under all of their skins.

When he first gets dropped into this realm and realises that you’re there, he feels so bad.

Finally remembering what he did, it wasn’t important before, but he makes sure to apologize for getting you sucked in.

Loves seeing what you can do though, even if your abilities are similar, they are unique in their own way.

Starts feeling bad for the killers at some point, especially C00lkidd. Will start lightly scolding you if you cause the kid to hide behind him.

Really wants to know how your abilities work and how they are different or similar to his, especially if you have some gui.

#forsaken x reader #forsaken 1x1x1x1 #1x1x1x1 x reader #forsaken c00lkidd #forsaken mafioso #mafioso x reader #forsaken 007n7 #007n7 x reader #wisteria♥

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messenger-of-babel · 5 months ago

Note

Could you write about the sweetheart grips? Soldiers in ww2 used to put photos of their lovers on the grips of their guns and I think that would be cute with Jason.

Eye for An Eye

Summary: Jason keeps a photo of you in his gun to keep you close to him, even in his hardest moments. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.7K

Notes: dear anon I really, really wanted to make this sweet. But then I got an angst idea and- I tried to do it justice without too many tears. Forehead kisses for you because as soon as you sent this in I legit thought about this idea for like three days straight I fell in love with the concept. I might use it again for other Jason fics you got me hooked (I was a MASSIVE military history nerd). Warnings for description of violence and injury, character death, some choppy writing. Back onto my angst train, I'm so sorry y'all (I'll write this concept sweeter sometime, I SWEAR).

ALSO HAPPY 100 POSTS. It's crazy when I remember I'm still a baby blog. <3

Enjoy~! RiRi xoxo <3

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Bruce had never been one for guns, and while Jason was Robin, he hadn't either.

He didn't consider himself a particularly violent child or had any real craving to use weapons. After all, he never really hit anyone who didn't deserve it, and he got great satisfaction of getting back at people who thought they could hurt innocent civilians just because they were bigger and older than him.

That was until he was taken by Joker and showed just how much hurt someone older and bigger than could inflict.

April 27th, the date that the Joker killed Jason Todd.

Now, he couldn’t imagine his hands without the comforting grip of his pistol. The grips were designed just for him, slotting into the contours of his fingers and worn away in the areas he instinctually rubbed. They were wide so they sat snug in his large palms, with a coarse texture in the areas he habitually flexed. The grip allowed it to stick to his gloves for a steadier shot while it would simply irritate anyone else who tried to hold them.

Everyone knew that those guns were Jasons, but nothing said it quite like the new addition of the faded photo tucked into the grips. The colt's had originally come with wooden handgrips, which were quickly removed while he made his modifications.

"You know the Bat isn't gonna be happy with you getting another set of guns." Dick calls out, approaching his worktable in the cave. Jason just grunts at him over his shoulder, making sure he keeps the screws where he can see them.

"Bruce can honestly suck it up." he huffs, the mention of the Bat souring his demeanour immediately. Jason had wanted to do this in his apartment for this exact same reason. He knew Stephanie would annoy him with questions if she caught sight of him, and that Tim would interject constantly with 'improvements' he deemed necessary. Duke he could deal with, and Cass would leave him well enough alone.

Dick and Damian just managed to piss him off simply existing sometimes.

Mostly when he was already in a bad mood.

His older brother trots down the stairs, a frown forming on his face as he puts his hands on his hips to observe.

"Quiet." Jason mumbles flatly, knowing the older vigilante was giving him a disapproving stare. Dick ignores him, eyeing the photo tucked up near his water bottle.

"Jason," he says, voice a warning tone.

"I said quiet." he cuts off, wiping the area down with a damp cloth. Dick just sighs behind him as Jason gingerly picks up the photo, rubbing his calloused thumbs over it. Dick wants to say something as he eyes the photo but can't bring himself to speak above the block in his chest. He watches the tension ease from his brother’s shoulders, the muscles that had been stiffly held by his ears for weeks. The scowl he wore softened slightly, and he could actually hear him exhale for once instead of wondering if his chest actually was moving or not. Instead, Dick sighs in reluctance, giving in. Dick watches him with sad eyes, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a slight squeeze. "Don't forget to, you know," he leans forward slightly and draws a circle with his finger on a certain point of the photo. Jason's face ripples with a flash of pain, but he watches his younger brother grit his teeth and nod.

"Look after yourself, Jay." he murmurs, pulling back. "Don't do anything stupid."

Jason waits a little bit before turning back the photo, ensuring that Dick had left the cave. A still silence settled over the dim space once more. It didn't help the hum in his head, making his fingers and muscles shake, the white noise refusing to settle in his conscious. He gently drew on the photo of you with pencil, tracing the shape that he needed for the grip and ensuring that you weren't cut out by accident.

It was a favourite photo of his, taken at one of Bruce's galas. He hadn't wanted to go, hardly showing to the events in the first place. "Full of rich idiots trying to get even richer." he had told you, tossing a look over his shoulder to you. You were standing at the door, holding the invite that had been slipped through the mail slot. You waved the thick cardstock, a small smile on your face. "Aw, but I was kinda looking forward to going." you say, looking over the details. "I think it'll be fun."

"The only one who thinks those things are fun are Dick and Steph if she's around. Tim will get bored and probably turn into a loan shark if left unattended too long. So yeah, fun." he grumbled.

"What about Dami?"

Her turns around, eyebrows raised.

"I’m sorry?" he asks. "When did we start calling the demon child, Dami? We're on nickname level now?"

He hates how his heart flutters in his chest when he hears you laugh, melting away his annoyance.

"He's sweet, just a little prickly. like you." you grin, coming to wrap your arms around his neck, pecking him on the lips.

"Yeah, he's sweet to you, he's a little shit to everyone else." he grumbles.

"Sounds like someone else I know." you tease.

He can't help but grin, sighing out through his nose softly. "Fine. we can go." he grumbles, knowing he won’t be able to stay mad at you for long.

The photo he traces was from that night, you tucked into his side. You're staring at the camera with a sparkle in your eye, lips pulled back into a wide grin. You're wearing black to fit the theme of the ball, with red accents, matching him. He’s got his arm around your shoulder, taking the photo with you pressed up against him. He thinks you look stunning, eyes twinkling at him from the page.

He takes the exacto knife and gently runs it over the image, cutting himself out so that he can focus on you. The piece pops free, and he trims the edges. His heart thrums as he slides you onto the handle, fluttering with a tame delight.

"Don't forget to, you know..."

Dick’s voice floats back into his mind, and the corners of his lips twitch downwards once more. Reluctantly he pulls your photo from the handle and reaches for a screwdriver to his left, bringing it above the paper. He feels like he's about to stab you, the way the metal tip hovers above the image smiling back at him.

But he does it, heart clenching with each scrape across your eyes, slowly erasing the twinkle he loved so much. There's something sickening about the feeling of scratching your face out, the gritty sound of the photo tearing and leaving white streaks in its wake making his stomach flip. Finally, it's done, stark white lines blotting out your gaze. All that's left is the upturn of your lips, and the soft smile you wore.

With a heavy sigh Jason slots it back onto the handle, placing the clear protector over you. At least nothing could damage you more than he already had. He told himself it was for the better, as he cleaned his hands on a nearby rag and bit the inside of his cheek. You weren't the most supportive of his guns, but you liked that they kept him safe. You had had a few conversations with him about it but never an argument. He wanted to keep you close, but he knew he wasn't going to be an idiot about it. He wanted to protect you, hide your identity from any eagle-eyed thugs.

"Besides," he thought to himself. "Don't want em seeing what I'm about to do."

Maybe it was for the best that he covered your face for this.

His body hums with adrenaline, still alone in the Batcave. With scarred fingers he screws the cover onto the grip, clear cover sitting flush and keeping your photo secure. Jasons tosses it a few times in his hand, getting used to the feeling of the new colt pistols and making sure you weren't going to shake loose. When he was content, he looked over his shoulder, scanning the shadows for movement.

He knew that Bruce would condemn his actions, he didn’t even need to ask on that front. Dick would be understanding but try to hold him back, and Tim would try to talk him out of it. The only person he felt that silently agreed with him was Damian, the pair of them fostering an unlikely bond in the last few weeks.

Everyone in the manor knew what Jason was thinking.

What Jason was doing spending his nights in the Batcave, the one place he had grown to hate ever since coming back.

What he contemplated as he haunted the halls of the manor, the place he often traded in for the comfort of his downtown apartment.

Everyone knew what Jason was going to do tonight, yet none of them were game enough to say it out loud or stop him.

Therefore, Jason took their silence as compliance because he knew somewhere deep down, they wanted him to do it.

Or was he deluding himself?

He shook the thought from his head, holstering the newly decorated pistol. He was already dressed and strapped for this mission, no turning back now. With heavy hands he donned his helmet, taking a deep breath as he pushed Jason aside to become Red Hood. The air was still, as if the Batcave was filled with spirits watching him in silence as he mounted the bike and pressed the key for the garage door, speeding out.

He was already haunted by too many ghosts.

The streets of Gotham were relatively quiet, the usual alleys he stalked devoid of the thugs he would have expected. It seemed that even the city was holding its breath, civilians tucked safely inside. He knew where he was going.

He had been receiving mocking invites in the mail for the last week, notes attached to crime scenes in a gory fashion just to mock him. So really, it was no surprise when he arrived at Gotham cemetery, parking outside and not even bothering to kill the engine. He wasn’t going to be long anyways.

Just past the cemetery was the crumbling shell of Arkham, ivy covering the brickwork and roof caving in. His boots crushed broken panes of glass as he entered the decaying mental hospital, leaves scattered through the building from wrinkled trees that had cracked through the floors. He slowly made his way to the upper floor, where he had seen the lights.

Instinctually he reached for his gun, and he felt his heart calm sliding his hand over your picture secured into his sweetheart grip. He hadn't felt this anxious fighting in a while, unused to the way that his pulse thudded against his neck or the dryness that crept into his mouth. The corridor felt like it stretched on forever, making his vision swim trying to reach the light at the end.

Candlelight flickered weakly at the end of the hall, luring him in like a moth. As he stepped in he took note of it, hand tightening. Jason knew he was going to play with him, taunt and torture him. The images of you taped up on the peeling walls were enough. Photos that spanned back months, photos of you on dates, at work, in his car, in your apartment, blurry photos of you and him in his bed. His thumb instinctually placed itself over your eyes, despite them already being scratched out.

He didn't need you seeing the messy patchwork of your life.

Jason didn't even mind the photos, knowing the sadist would be doing something like that. What he did mind though were the images of you from three weeks ago, the same images that Dick had refused to let him see, that Tim wiped off the Batcomputer hard drive and Babs had removed from the GCPD database. The ones displaying the blood, the bone, the bruising.

Your eyes, unseeing.

Everything that was so familiar to him, but so foreign on you.

Everything that that one curved piece of metal had caused way back when, stained a dark brown. The same piece of metal that was sitting in the middle of the desk at the centre of the crude shrine, drying with a fresher coat of oxidised red.

He felt his heart rise to his throat, but he wasn’t sure if it was bile in his throat or the taste of blood from his bitten lip. His grip turned white, muscles flexing under the skin and pressing unnaturally hard. He felt the green tinged mania inside him rear its head, threatening to take over his mind and act purely on instinct. The Lazarus pit clawed and pulled at his soul harder that it had in years, gasping at him like a beggar, screaming for a shred of violence to feed it.

He knew the game. He knew all of this was to provoke him, try to get Jason to release the rage inside him. The monster wanted to see him squirm, see him struggle to keep himself in check. He wanted to watch Jason Todd fight against the Red Hood, watch the Bats moral code play out on his face.

Well, Jason wasn't Batman. He wasn't Bruce.

As soon as a skinny figure moved from the shadows to his right, his pistol was out in a flash. His free hand ripped the mask from his face, jaw tight and eyebrows furrowed, but he felt more relaxed than he had been in ages.

He was no Batman. He was Jason Todd.

And Jason was going to do the one thing Bruce had always been too much of a coward to do.

With one crisp bang the clown couldn’t get a single word out before he was splayed on the floor. As Jason stepped over the body he regarded it apathetically, barely biting down the urge to step on it. The bastards’ lips were pulled back in a wide smile, even in death. Maybe he had expected Jason to do this, maybe it was his last hurrah as an asshole, but Jason didn't care.

He didn’t even feel scared at the idea of the aftermath as a retraced his steps out of the abandoned building, mounting his still-running bike.

There hadn't been a single gloat before the gun cracked through the night, not a single joke or pun or taunt to leave the devil’s mouth. Bruce might have entertained it, let him play it out, but not Jason.

For Jason, everything that needed to be said had been said in actions.

The air was strangely cool, devoid of the humidity that nomrally hung in the streets. The city itself seemed to be sighing, taking a breath like the chord holding the city on a leash had been cut. He relished the feeling of it on his skin, the cracks in his suit letting the breeze run across his knuckles and where his mask met his neck. He imagined the cool fingers were you, cradling his face and whispering for him to take a rest, and he let his eyes flutter closed briefly.

As he hit a red light he took a pause, reaching his hand down to pat where you were, tucked tightly under his hip. He didn't care what the reaction was going to be when he reached the manor, or the screaming match that was likely going to destroy what was left of his relationship with his pseudo father. All that matters is that he had done right by you, that he had done what he wished someone had done for him.

April 17th, the night Jason Todd killed the Joker.

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transannabeth · 1 year ago

Text

i don't know how you'll see this show given that they locked all our phones in pouches and i don't know if they're planning a tour. but please see this show here are some nonspoiler things that are kicking around my head right now

the dirt on the hems of nearly every single costume

nick's ptsd

jordan moving away from tom when she was sitting on the table

"a drunken revelation!"

the bathtub

a shirt for every year

nick pushing gatsby onstage

the repeated use of the word "fool"

"do you just own a piano player?"

singing about gatsby's smile and it's literally lines from the book

jokes about depression and suicidal thoughts that are not landing well

"and we're fun fun fun"

daisy giving tom her necklace

the couch moment

"i've never seen you out of uniform"

the use of smoke machines

nick and jordan standing together on the side or in the background. them sitting on the couch together and jordan putting her hand on his shoulder as everyone else is yelling.

"i changed my mind"

the photo "montage"

the damage that you do. we all were just sitting in like shocked silence through this whole song

"i changed it"

gatsby's father

the choreography

"can you hear it roar"

how all the music felt a little foreboding and dangerous. we all know what's coming—both in the story and in history and there's nothing we can do to stop it

the "american myth" is jay gatsby. but it also isn't. he isn't the only myth in this story.

would you like a non spoiler list of things i liked about gatsby: an american myth since i finally got home and am processing

#ILL IM ILL IM ILL. i need to see it again. i cant. but i wANT #what if they did a proshoot and sent it to me and i promised REALLY HARD never to share it #not pjo #all the worlds a stage #i'll make a big post when i see the other one but like i said. lots ot live up to.#i felt like we were having a CONVERSATION wiht this show #which i dont think needs to be necessary w every show #however i think saying something if youre adapting such a well known story is important #mostly to stand out #the great gatsby already has a lot to say and this show managed to say more AND add to its depth and meaning #the reason so little of this is about the songs is because I SUCK AT REMEMBERING SONGS #THEY WERE REALLY GOOD #and i dont wanna fuck up the lyrics when recounting them im sorry :(((#the only one i THINK i got right was 'fun fun fun' and that song i looove for how it feels . dangerous. it feels threatening.#i dont know if im explaining the vibe well #but you can tell something is OFF like its NOT just fun like its like trying to CONVINCE YOU that it is fun #that we're here having fun EBCAUSE WE ARE. FUN.#you know?#ugh im bad at explaining SOMEHOW MAGICALLY SEE THIS SHOW!!#I WANNA BE BACK BRING ME BACK

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fictionalsweethearts · 5 months ago

Text

ENDURE, TAKE, OWN | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: As you take control of your pleasure, Sevika reveals memories that still hurt.

Contains: hurt/comfort, soft!sevika, confessions, kissing, strap-on, vulnerability.

This a sequel of this fic, in case you wanna check it out. Enjoy!

"Huh, I don't remember..." Sevika said. "It happened ages ago."

"Are you calling yourself an elder right now?" you teased her, standing behind her, running your hand through her black strands. "How old were you?"

"Uhm... I dunno, seventeen?"

"Seventeen and sneaking girls into your room?"

"It didn't happen in my bedroom, doll." Sevika grinned just a bit, as if the emotion of the moment had suddenly seized her again, just as it had twenty-three years ago. "It happened in a warehouse where I used to work."

Sevika seemed to go over the events in her mind, she could still smell the alcohol and the aged wood, the girl's perfume, the taste of tobacco. Just the memory made her happy somehow, the expectation and the amazement she felt within those four walls was liberating, as she found herself in some sort of awakening.

"You see… I was still pretty lost when I was seventeen, I made a lot of bad decisions, I met people I shouldn't have hung out with," she explained. "The arguments with my old man were a daily thing, I was kicked out of the house many times. I don't regret it, though."

A gentle breeze blew through the window, and by then you were already running a brush through Sevika's locks. Seeing her with her hair down softened her features in a way you hadn't expected.

"I started working in a warehouse for the Barral Twelve company."

"Wasn't it the owner of that company who…?"

"Who killed himself in the main square? Yes, that same one. Those were different times, people were more… showy." Sevika sighed. "I worked double shifts, just to keep a roof over my head and not come back home with my tail between my legs, like my father expected. I used to steal things from the warehouse, mostly booze. It was more fun to work drunk."

"You drove the company into bankrupt then." you joked.

"Probably." Sevika chuckled, followed by a soft hum as you brushed her hair. "What are you doing?"

"You always wear that boring half ponytail, I thought… I'd change your look. For tonight."

"Just don't make me look like a schoolgirl."

"I won't." you smiled, starting to divide her hair into three sections. "I'm listening."

And Sevika continued.

"There was this girl I worked with, Nina," the woman continued, settling back in her chair as you did her hair. "She was older, I think. Twenty? I don't remember, but I do remember that we would sneak into the back rooms to smoke and drink whatever was on the shelves."

"So your first time happened in a warehouse?"

"Romantic, isn't it?" Sevika shrugged. "I'd kissed girls before, it was fun, but I was interested in what else she could offer."

You started braiding her hair, so delicately that Sevika felt a tickle on her scalp. "I remember taking off that ashen shirt of hers, she wasn't wearing a bra. I tried to suck on her nipples, she liked it…"

Sevika paused to review the events. "It must have happened during the break, we were in a hurry. I wasn't ashamed, rather curious cause I always liked her, she was pretty. Just maybe too much of a junkie for my taste."

"Junkie?"

"The white-nosed ones."

"Geez."

"Indeed." she agreed. "I remember her pushing me up against the wall, shoving her hands into my pants, and the rest happened in a minute or two. She covered my mouth when I came."

"And that was it?"

"First times are just that," Sevika said simply. "They're awkward, fleeting… even borning sometimes."

And that doesn't mean they were worth forgetting, they were steps to step on in an endless staircase of learning and mistakes. Sevika didn't see the first encounters as a problem, but rather as a time to identify what her body had to offer. After that encounter, she wasn't afraid to seek contact with girls in clubs, roommates, neighbors, waitresses or brothel workers. She was trying out the sexual diversity of Zaun, from shy women to shameless ones who enjoyed a slap in the middle of oral or a hand placed on their throat. Sevika accepted everything, in order to learn, in order to feel in control of what her body provoked in others. And she loved to own that power.

"Did you see her again?" you asked then, undoing the braid when you saw that it had become crooked. Not that Sevika was complaining, the feeling of your hands in her hair was delightful.

"No, she died. Overdose."

"Shit."

"Over time you learn to read people better, Nina had been seeing that coming for a long time."

Sevika had learned not to get attached to people whose lives hung in the balance. Death lurks around every corner in Zaun, in the form of drugs, crime and incidents, so seeing her peers succumb to one seemed more of a probability than an isolated case. Many times it was she who was dancing with death, dedicating herself to gangs from an early age, playing with substances that she herself did not know how to handle or exposing herself to Zaunian gases that competed to ruin her lungs with the cigarettes that she smoked day and night. Sevika's body remained firm as a rock, rooted to the land that saw her birth and her greatest tool to carry out a cause that gave her no respite.

Until the cause itself snatched one of her arms.

"I've never dared to ask you," you said after a moment of silence, your fingers gently braiding her hair. By then Sevika couldn't stop sighing.

"About?"

"The arm."

This time Sevika didn't sigh, but instead let out a subtle grunt.

"What do you wanna know?"

"About the experience… if you want to talk about it."

"I'd rather not." she admitted, noticing the way you flinched. "It's not a fairytale, doll. Losing a limb it's something you never quite understand."

"I know I couldn't fully understand it myself." you assured, now hesitant. "I'm sorry, I'm prying."

"What you wanna hear? The pain? The months it took me to get used to a life without an arm?"

You pulled your hands away from her hair, thinking you pushed the subject too far. Only for Sevika to sigh for the thousandth time and draw your hands into her hair again. "Alright... My arm was severely burned after a hex blast. It was completely unsalvageable from shoulder to hand."

And the rest of the story flowed so easily from her lips, that Sevika thought she had been waiting for someone to ask her so she could let out all the intrinsic thoughts she had been holding back since that incident seven years ago. "I still have the scapula and the clavicle, so inserting a prosthesis was possible. The first few days were hard to say the least, the phantom pains kept bothering me in the mornings and the pain in my neck didn't let up."

"Neck pain?"

"The weight of the prosthesis. This thing isn't light."

"I can imagine…"

"I never thought you could mourn a part of your body." Her expression darkened, the subject was as thorny as always. She soon felt the itch for a cigarette, something to somatize the emotions that were surging. She reached for the package on the coffee table. "You mind?"

"Course not." You assured, leaning down to light the cigarette between her lips. Sevika explained some details between smoke clouds, she certainly didn't allow herself to suffer from the accident as much as she would have liked. If the cause took her arm, she would continue with it until it took from her another or her life. Her priorities were ans still are different and to this day she believes that the loss of her arm was collateral damage.

"That doesn't make it any easier, Sev…" you whispered, wrapping your arms around her neck.

"It makes it more bearable," Sevika said. "Life down here is not about making it easier, but more bearable. I have learned to endure and soon enough my missing arm turned into an inconvenience only."

You processed her words in silence. Sevika seemed a woman so resigned to her place in the world that whatever she had to sacrifice for the cause was not a motive for sorrow, but rather for resilience. She believed in the power of overcoming situations, in moving forward and leaving behind what was necessary, and in the meantime, allowing herself fleeting moments of pleasure between gambling and women. Just to keep endure and give her tired soul a brief break.

"Have you realized you act just like a soldier?" You said then, making Sevika chuckle.

"Fuck off." You leaned down to kiss the blue scars on her cheek and neck, softening her frown. "Did you finish my hair, pretty girl?"

"Yeah, you look so pretty."

"Don't use that word on me."

But as soon as she looked at the mirror you brought her, the word no longer sounded so strange. You had made her hair into a loose braid, able to soften her features to the point that Sevika saw for a moment that seventeen-year-old girl, smoking inside the warehouse and willing to do anything to bring dignity to the land in which she lived.

She kept such thoughts to herself, of course, but you felt it in her gray gaze. She liked it. "Enough talking," she said then, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray. "Let's save the mushiness for bed."

-◊-

You felt confident that night, shame no longer tied you down, nor did fear. You felt in control of your own skin and capable of transmitting such courage to Sevika. From the first kiss she was willing to be the one explored on this occasion, and you were grateful for her willingness to allow it. Sevika put her metal hand behind her head, the flesh one caressing your cheek as you spread kisses over her chest and abdomen, descending with tortuous slowness but giving her a view worthy of admiration. You were focused on each kiss, each touch, your thumbs embedded in Sevika's hips, massaging in circles before moving her legs apart, placing a kiss on her inner thigh.

"You have such pretty skin." you whispered.

"Flattering me now?"

"Stating the truth."

Having Sevika naked in front of you was not an opportunity to waste. She didn't usually strip completely, there was something about her that kept her on guard, you didn't know what yet. You thought it was her constant state of alert, she learned to never let her guard down. But today her tan skin was visible and within your reach and you couldn't help but shower it with kisses.

Sevika frowned, meaning she was liking what you were doing. By now you had explored the expanse of her skin and your lips were resting on her breasts. You sucked on her dark nipple, your other hand squeezing the other and you heard her sigh. Sevika followed your every move intently, her hand cupping the back of your neck to signal you to continue, and you caught her hint, taking your hand betwen her legs and rubbing gently, you felt a pang of pride by sensing how wet she was.

"To think that you barely dared to grab my ass before," the woman grinned. "You've improved."

You looked at her, leaning down to give her a kiss on the lips before spreading more on her cheek and the path of scars down to her neck. They were blue, Sevika hadn't used shimmer that night, in fact, you've seen her sober more frequently these days.

"As far as you allow me, Vika." you purred.

"Go downstairs, then." Sevika whispered, cupping your cheek as her eyes lit up. "I know you want it."

You felt a pang of anticipation stir in your gut, it was what you were aiming for and luckily Sevika read your mind before you asked her. You nodded, giving her another kiss before tracing your path from her chin to her pubis again, your breath brushing her pussy with a subtle tickle.

You scattered kisses around, patiently. If Sevika had taught you anything, it was not to rush. Her fingers tangled in your hair with a certain affection, she bent one of her legs as you moved them apart, allowing you better access. "Slow… as slow as you want, doll."

With the pad of your tongue, you spread a long lick from the entrance to the bud, drawing a subtle moan from Sevika's lips and giving you that dose of approval you were looking for. With the tip you traced circles, exploring the folds gently and then sucking on the hood, enjoying the musky taste.

"Just like that, pretty girl." Sevika whispered.

"You taste so good…" you moaned, lying on your stomach as you pulled her legs over your shoulders.

"Getting comfy, are we?"

"I deserve it, don't you think?"

Sevika smiled. "Yeah... you do."

You reveled in the sensations of her, the thought of pleasing her alone, it pleased you. There was something about Sevika’s physicality that drove you crazy. Maybe it was the subtle moans or the way her hips moved against your mouth, or the way her fingers tangled in your locks and asked for more. She wasn’t afraid to give instructions; slower, faster, smooth your tongue, yes so good, oh fuck… higher, suck there, ah shit. And you followed each one of them, committed to her pleasure as much as she was committed to yours.

"Feasting on me, don't you?" she said, followed by a loud hiss. "Look where teaching you got me, I should have done it a long time ago."

And you reached out your hand to trace circles on her abdomen, her muscles tightening under your palm as Sevika moaned, gritting her teeth as if your touch was painful, and it was so slow that it actually hurt. She reached for your hand, bringing it to her tit and you squeezed. “Keep it like that…” she panted.

Sevika wasn't loud when it came to cumming, she was as measured as always, she usually swallowed her moans or smothered them in a growl, followed by a long sigh as her whole body relaxed. If only you could take the weight off her shoulders that she's been carrying for as long as she can remember, if only you could make her feel as good as she does now all the time.

You placed one last kiss on her pussy, tracing an upward path back to her lips and kissing her with so much affection that it was mistaken for devotion; the truth is that you felt both for her. Sevika cupped the back of your neck, caressing it while her other hand brushed a lock of hair out of your eyes. "You've done very well," she whispered against your mouth.

With one look you knew it was time for what you feared and anticipated equally. Your eyes landed on the strap next to the bed and you nodded. "Nervous?"

"A bit."

"We've already practiced, you'll take to it just fine."

You stepped back, letting Sevika leave the bed. You could feel your heart racing, watching her put on the piece calmly, almost solemnly. How many times has she done the same thing with other women? How many times has she repeated this same ritual? Her past intrigued you as much as it made you sick with jealousy.

Sitting back on your heels, you clutched the fabric of your slip dress, suddenly believing yourself to be just as incapable as the first time. Your breathing became shallow, your muscles tensing as you waited for the typical pain you knew and hated, retreating down that path of shame. Until you felt a kiss on your shoulder.

"Don't go there, I know what you're thinking," Sevika whispered, settling behind you as she spread kisses across your exposed skin. Her hands played with the valleys of your hips and waist, you felt the caress of her breath on your nape.

"It will hurt."

"No, it won't." she insisted. "I won't let it hurt."

"Sev."

"Shh..." Sevika slipped her hands under your slip dress, tracing from your hips to your abdomen, inviting you to let go of your traitorous thoughts. She didn't like to see you hesitate, not when she'd seen you succeed before. Fear would get you nowhere, never. She carefully pulled the dress off, leaving you naked before an accusatory mirror in front of the bed. That mirror spared no one, it showed you what you wanted to see, and now you saw a woman too ashamed of herself for her own good, and behind you, a ruthless woman who seemed to have the world in the palm of her hand.

If only you could take from the world what Sevika claims without flinching.

You sighed, parting your legs once Sevika brought her fingers to your core and rubbed carefully. The cold metal of her other hand squeezed one of your breasts and you closed your eyes. You would like to give yourself into her arms and forget the sorrows of your flesh and your conscience for once, just once.

"Do you want to try from behind?"

"I'd like to see your face."

"Alright." she nodded, slowly turning you around, your back meeting the soft sheets underneath as Sevika gave you another kiss.

The strap-on extension wasn't too long, you felt the weight of the piece on your abdomen as Sevika kissed you, and you carefully tested the phallus with your hand. Sevika then brought it against your entrance and you flinched.

"Vika."

"Just grinding, doll, easy…" she whispered, rubbing the tip against you. "I've applied lub, it won't hurt."

And the truth was, you were soaking yourself.

You clung to her back nervously, hearing her pant against your ear as she applied pressure to your entrance, briefly, with no intention other than to soften your ill-used muscles. You had to breathe, you had to breathe, it's what you learned and it's what allowed you to take Sevika the last time you came on her fingers.

You counted to three, feeling the tip push through, you counted to fifteen and you had taken half of it, you counted to twenty-five and let out a whimper.

"Should I stop?"

"No." you begged. "Keep going."

Breath, breath, breath. Endure, learn to endure.

"Doll." whispered Sevika. "You're trembling."

"Just keep going." you insisted.

Be nice, endure.

And you closed your eyes as you felt the contact of her hips against yours, Sevika buried inside you completely. Only then did you allow yourself to cry.

"Hey, baby." she whispered, caressing your cheek. "No, not like that."

It was as soon as a couple of tears rolled down your cheeks that your muscles relaxed and you took her completely. You held on, just like you promised yourself. Sevika kissed your wet cheeks, moving her hips just a little, noticing how your lips parted and you gasped. "Does it hurt?"

"No." you whispered.

The truth is that you felt full, the pressure present but less and less invasive. Sevika began to move slowly, her hips brushing against yours, your walls adjusting to the phallus as you moaned subtly. It was a dynamic of breathing, questions and moans in response. Do you like it like this? Slower? You're doing so well, keep going like that, doll, I knew you would. And soon your hands wandered over her back, over her locks, over her chest, delighting in the extension of her skin, in her warmth, in her hardness. You were so present that your mind had fallen silent.

"Yes… please…" you gasped. "There, there."

"God, you're so pretty."

You felt like you owned something you thought was not yours, a pleasure that was rightfully yours but that you were afraid to claim. You thanked her for letting you have it back, for giving you back the ability to claim it.

"Thank you." You whispered once Sevika stopped to give you a break, cradling you against her chest and leaving a kiss on your temple. She was breaking down walls with you herself, which was both exciting and terrifying.

Sevika laid back on the bed, watching you straddle her lap with such confidence that she smiled. Her hand rested on your hip, you rose up on your knees as you guided the phallus to your entrance. But you stopped.

"Can I take it off?" you asked suddenly, and Sevika didn't know what you were talking about until you pointed at her arm.

"Why?" she asked.

"I've never seen you without it…"

The flicker of terror that crossed her gaze as you unbuckled the strap holding the base of the prosthesis took you by surprise for a moment. You never considered that Sevika's confidence depended so much on that piece, and allowing you to take it off was her way of telling you that she trusted you. And you felt honored.

"Just keep any comment to yourself." she grunted, as you slolwy disarmed the prosthesis.

Being vulnerable was one of Sevika's limits, until she found such affection and comfort in your gaze that she melted before you. You removed the arm, placing it on the table next to the bed, followed by the base and uncovering a stump that Sevika hid with her hand.

"Sev." you mumbled.

"Don't... don't touch it." she spat, her defenses went back up and you didn't argue with it.

"I won't." you stated, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

Sevika laid back down and you took her inside you again, letting out a sweet, controlled gasp. The sensation was different and unexplored, so you began to move your hips slowly. Sevika reached for one of your breasts, you looked at her with your lips parted and sucked between your teeth, taking it to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"You look good down there." you purred.

"You've discovered something tonight." she agreed.

Your breaths lengthened, your mouth no longer holding back moans, you wanted to be heard, by her, by everyone. You leaned in to kiss Sevika and continued, you felt in control and you loved it. By then the reflection in the mirror was not accusatory but revealing, you looked agitated, pleased, whole and present. Your reflection looked back at you.

"Fuck." you moaned as Sevika rubbed her thumb against your bud. "You always know when to touch me."

"Keep moving…" Sevika growled.

You nodded, your eyes focused on Sevika's gaze, on her dark lips, on the gap between her teeth, on her furrowed eyebrows and her blue scars. You wanted to cover her face with kisses. You pulled on her arm, making her sit up, capturing her lips in a panting kiss. You took it upon yourself to touch your clit, you cared more about having her close. "I feel so good." you confessed.

"I can see it." whispered Sevika between kisses.

"I love you." you blurted out, Not as a secret, but as a confession that you openly wanted her to hear. You didn't want to keep anything to yourself.

Sevika responded with a kiss, letting you ride out your orgasm which came out in whimper, falling onto her chest as your body surrendered to the torrent of oxytocin that flowed into you. Suddenly everything was silent, everything was okay, there was no evil in the world, just pure love, just Sevika, just you.

"My braid came undone," Sevika whispered after a long silence.

"I'll braid it again."

You looked at her with full eyes, Sevika seemed to be reading something in you that remained a mystery. Your eyes landed on her stump and she wanted to hide. "I've never seen you as naked as right now." you said, laying a kiss there.

And judging by the way Sevika's body relaxed, you knew she agreed with you.

-◊-

taglist: @bibi4exe @verseandchapterr

#arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane sevika #arcane smut #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x y/n #sevika x you #sevika #sevika my love #sevika smut

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