#Literally like a brighter version of you
Note
Are you going to keep Goosefeather's curse? If so are you going to change anything about it? From my memory the book was... depressing.
It will probably get rolled into Pinestar's Crusade, building it up into an SE rather than just a novella. There's actually a lot going on in that specific moment, and it makes sense to go over it all at once.
So to answer your question, yes, most of Goosefeather's Curse is staying. Most of the Crusade Generation have depressing stories to tell. If the Thistle Period is defined by the fact that Thistle Law metastasized and went terminal, and if the Campaign Era was when it was newly born, then the Crusade Era was when it was first conceived.
I've been thinking about Pinestar's Crusade idly and mentioned it a few times, but here's my fragments so far;
PINESTAR'S CRUSADE
(Fuses Pinestar's Choice and Goosefeather's Curse)
We start in the Crusade Era; there is now more focus on 3 major characters, though it's still built around Pinestar as the POV
Pinestar, Goosefeather, and eventually Pinepaw's apprentice Speckletail.
Pinepaw is born into the start of the Crusades, a bloody period where the Clans are invading Chelford and brutalizing cats in the hopes of appeasing StarClan. He only begins to learn the full story of what happened in Darkstar's Commandment once he begins going to Gatherings as a warrior
The truth being that Oakstar came up with this idea because he couldn't take an L
But even as an apprentice, it becomes quickly apparent to him that what they're doing is evil. They were brutalizing kittypets who aren't trained to fight back.
During his first raid as an apprentice, he allows a ginger-and-white mother and her kittens to escape
This came back years later, when that queen, Crystal, forms BloodClan in response to the Crusades.
Pineheart watches Oakstar die barely a year later to the queen he saved, using early claw extenders to cut right through him. Even if he hadn't been on his last life, it would have ended him.
But, Crystal lets Pineheart go, recognizing the Clan cat who had saved her life.
Watching his dad die along with several friends, and countless more innocent Chelford, plus being released by Crystal, is a Formative Moment.
Doestar continues the Crusades in the name of revenge for Oakstar, but now that BloodClan exists and is ARMED, the easy raids become bloodbaths.
They slowly peter out, not with a bang but with a whimper. She never announces an official end, eventually she just stops organizing them. No one gets closure, especially not Pineheart.
But the 'peace' doesn't last. Just before Heatherstar takes power from Smallstar and begins the Campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland, ThunderClan deals with the Great Hunger
Pineheart and Goosefeather become very good friends, part of a little buddy group that also included Tawnyspots and Pheasantfeather (who will become One-eye later)
Pineheart was given his first apprentice, a rowdy little one and the niece of Doestar, Specklepaw. He's tasked with helping her fill the pawsteps of greatness she's destined to walk in.
Just like canon, Goose predicts the Great Hunger... though, he is an adult this time around because of some timeline changes.
And, like canon, it fails. They couldn't stockpile enough food to last an entire year of famine, a scorching summer and a frozen winter, they end up losing a huge stock of their food as if it was destiny.
Goosefeather was forced into a role he hates, given horrible visions of the future, and argues ferociously with Pineheart; if they hadn't tried to stockpile, they wouldn't have lost all that food to begin with.
It is in this moment, he comes to realize that every time he's fought back and used his visions like a warning, it's backfired.
So, perhaps, they are instruction.
But, meanwhile, Pineheart can't loose his apprentice or his friends. While others were hunting desperately, he was keeping cats alive through scouting for grubs, foraying into other territories, and...
Every bite of kittypet food he took for himself was a morsel in someone else's mouth. But this... this he kept quiet.
It started a "bad habit" he could never break.
Having lost the previous deputy to starvation and on her deathbed, Doestar nominates Pineheart to the position. He was shocked and upset by this, but he was the obvious choice.
Son of Oakstar, Hero of the Hunger, the cat who had kept Specklepaw alive when all the other kits and apprentices starved.
But, Pinestar took the helm to extreme controversy.
Everything Pinestar's ever done that worked was nonviolent. He's never seen battle do anything but bring harm, and the thought of leading people into war... it makes him feel sick.
But the rest of the Clan can't see what he sees. They yearn for the glory days (even though they were not glorious at all), itch to die for a cause, and leave this old, disgusting subsistence survival behind them. ThunderClan wants blood and Pinestar just wants peace.
Taking back Sunningrocks is an example of this. To avoid losing Clanmates, he proposed to Hailstar that they would have a Joust, instead.
ThunderClan's strongest against RiverClan's strongest. Adderfang vs Mudfur.
It didn't go well.
The problem with those sorts of situations is you have to abide by the deal. RiverClan took Sunningrocks for 6 months. It was humiliating for ThunderClan.
Even the cats he'd saved from the famine were furious with him
The only things that DID seem to please the Clan was when he would throw them fully into battle. Such as Goosefeather's prophecy that WindClan's herbs needed to be destroyed...
Every time a situation like that happened, where Goosefeather would phrase things as a Holy Struggle, Pinestar was thrown right back to the Crusades
Terrified eyes, screeching, cats begging for mercy, his father dead at his paws and feeling horror and relief swirling
Sitting vigil for old friends killed in these horrible fights, like Moonflower, it made him feel like how he felt the day he buried Oakstar.
And the bile rose in his throat, remembering that Oakstar was not there at his Leadership Ceremony, damned to the Dark Forest.
A thought was born, here. What does StarClan truly want? What do they expect of him? If they will send the architect of the Crusades there...
What of a cat who stayed fed on human food and fed grubs to his Clanmates? Or a leader who never knows the right thing to do?
When Mumblefoot retired and Sunfall became deputy, the Clan seemed to love him more than Pinestar. He found himself just... sitting back, and allowing Sunfall to call the shots.
It was towards the end, when Leopardfoot proposed an Honor Siring. He was from a glorious legacy, she wanted kits... and on his end, he wanted the peace that raising kittens could bring.
The warmth of human dens was calling him, but perhaps the warmth of love for children could keep him home.
UNLIKE CANON; Nothing about Tigerkit was born evil.
There was no StarClan vision of Tigerstar; Goosefeather knew full well that Thistlestar was the Leader of Prophecy.
But Pinestar would never give Thistleclaw an apprentice in time. Nor would he ever give his own little son to a cat as vicious as him.
Goosefeather never hurt anyone... but Pinestar just needed a push.
Pinestar was already anxious, unhappy, clinging to the goodness that was his little kits. Even as two of them were lost to minor illnesses, shortly after receiving their names.
It wasn't a lie. It was just half of the truth.
"Pinestar... you have a choice to make. StarClan has given me a vision of blood and war, and Tigerkit will have a role to play in it."
He DID have a vision... of Thistlestar. Not Tigerkit. But that was enough for Pinestar, his fear and trauma took the helm from there.
He'd seen his friends, his apprentice, the kits who had been born and died in his rule, all of them turn into the monsters Clan Culture demanded
Nothing he did ever seemed to work, why would THIS moment be different?
How could he prevent Tigerkit from becoming like that too?! Was StarClan telling him to KILL his son??
Pinestar's never had a vision from StarClan. He doesn't have the aptitude like a Cleric... what he has is a nightmare, of Tigerkit growing so large he crushes the whole camp under his claws
After a week of agony, Pinestar unknowingly creates a prophecy of his own,
"Can only the death of a child break fate?"
Sensing he was close to victory, Goosefeather dipped his head, not denying his question.
And it's the last straw.
And that is the climax of Pinestar's Crusade. Broken from his experiences, every turn taken for peace causing him more pain, the idea that he might have to hurt his own son plaguing his mind, he makes the choice to leave.
It wasn't hard, he'd still had that old bad habit of taking bites of kittypet food, a couple friends on the other side. But what he doesn't know is that by leaving with his life... he prevents Sunstar from acquiring his own.
Sunstar had ONE single life, StarClan was not able to give him more with the previous leader still alive. For leaving his Clan, for unknowingly preventing the transfer of power, and for dismissing the Warrior Code, Pinestar is sent to the Dark Forest after his death.
He can choose to walk there, or spend time in the mortal plane as just a spirit, but StarClan offers him no place in the cosmos.
#Pinestar's Crusade#Better Bones AU#So yeah it's still depressing LMAO sorryyyy#im a sucker for the theme where someone you raised and loved became part of an evil system#failure to protect. How COULD you have done differently? Was there anything at all that could have saved them?#i've mentioned it before but I love Pinestar most as the foil of Firestar#and it's very underexplored as an idea#How Firestar succeeded where Pinestar failed#Literally like a brighter version of you#someone who never gave up past the point where you would have broken#and how painful and uncomfortable that idea must be#It doesssss things to me#Also I am still shuffling the timeline#Pinestar might end up being old enough to remember Mapleshade... BUT we'll see#It might be pretty funny to have Pinepaw watch his dad take several Ls in Darkstar's Commandment#''this is my cringefail boomer dad who I have a complicated relationship to. he cannot swim. oh god. oh fuck''
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bf!wonwoo thoughts
pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader genre: fluff word count: 0.47k warning(s): none
requested by @pepperonidk: bestie i need you to continue your revenge bedtime procrastination bf!seventeen thoughts and focus them onto dk josh or wonu 🙏🏼 i am on my knees 🧎🏻♀️
thinking about bf!wonwoo who’s so soft for you, he’s literally the definition of partner privilege. he’d quite literally say yes to anything you ask of him because he’s just that whipped for you. you want to put stickers on his hair? go ahead, baby, his hair is yours. you want to do a duet with him at a karaoke session with the guys? he’s belting to the most heartbreaking songs with you immediately.
bf!wonwoo who would give you book recommendations so very often. he’d leave books around the house for you to read and leave cute little notes inside them for you to find, most of them being stuff like “this reminded me of you.” or “let’s go there one day.” that makes you swoon every single time you find them.
bf!wonwoo who would be so excited if you wanted to play video games with him. it doesn’t matter if you’re absolutely horrible at the game, he’d be your number one defender against toxic teammates and would totally carry you to victory every time. reserves the good loot for you to take first too (he’s so whipped)
bf!wonwoo who is so endeared by anything and everything you do. always has a lovesick smile plastered on his face whenever he looks at you. you could be embarassing yourself in front of everyone in the room and he’d still think you were the cutest person in the world. the members definitely notice, but they choose not to call him out for it (you make him brighter, after all)
bf!wonwoo who’s the most attentive listener even if he doesn’t seem like it sometimes. you tend to talk his ear off about anything that happens throughout your day, but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually be paying attention and remembering the little things you’d mentioned to him in passing. you talked about seeing escape rooms on tiktok and finding it cool? he’s immediately searching up the best escape rooms to try and taking you there as soon as he can, much to your surprise.
bf!wonwoo who has trouble opening up to people, but tries his best when it’s you. he’d talk about how much he loves you while you’re in his arms at night when he thinks you’re asleep. he doesn’t know you’re listening, and you don’t plan on telling him in case he stops. you make sure to do it back to him, though, and you definitely don’t miss the softest of smiles forming on his “sleeping” face every time you do it.
bf!wonwoo who thanks his lucky stars for being able to meet you and have the opportunity to love you every time. he’s so grateful to you for being there for him and for motivating him to be a better version of himself with each day that passes.
a/n: bye i am so incredibly soft for these it’s feeding into my delusions so much 😵💫😵💫
masterlist
#kflixnet#i need minghao to un-delulu me rn#ICY WRITES#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenarios#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo scenarios#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo imagines#jeon wonwoo fluff
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Coming out of my cave to post art on here again
I'm trying ( heavy emphasis on trying 😭 ) to make designs for every arc 1 WoF character, and since mudwings are the easiest tribe for me to draw I started with clay and his siblings
Their shapes and stuff make sense in my head and have reasonings but I can't put them into words rghHHgdgGGRRRghhgfh
CHARACTERS; CLAY [ TOP LEFT ] , SORA [BOTTOM LEFT ] , UMBER [ TOP RIGHT ] , REED [ BOTTOM RIGHT ]
For Clay I wanted to make him simple, going along with him not thinking that he's anything special and not fit for the prophecy. He's still brighter than his sibs though, and has the brightest colored scales before his underbelly. (Do those have a name?? )
For Sora I wanted her kinda deer-like, with softer/less bold edges than the others. She has a scar in the same place Crane's death wound was.
For Umber I just stuck pretty closely to the canon design, adding some splotches and giving him a different shape than the others.
Finally, for Reed I just made him clay but duller, and more red. He nearly looks just like clay shape-wise, but is more inward. (I have no idea how to describe this 😭)
CHARACTERS; MARSH [ TOP LEFT ] , PHEASANT [ BOTTOM LEFT ] , CRANE [ BOTTOM RIGHT ]
I had the most fun with these guys can u tell
For Marsh I made him more sharp and edgy than the others to go with his anxious personality. His colors are very similar to Clay's, but he has splotches and light colored horns. (I love Marsh, he's underappreciated)
For Pheasant I wanted to base her off of a pheasant. Her markings are similar to those of a ring-necked pheasant, with her reds being the same as Umber's. She originally had green-ish yellow on her to go with her eyes (and also because pheasants have green on them) but I couldn't get it to work. (crying spongebob image) Her shape is more 'elegant' than her sibs. I think her design is my favorite out of all of these.
For Crane I based her lightly off of a crane. (🤯🤯🤯) She shares colors with sora and umber. (Sora because obviously, Umber because I needed his reds 😁) since really all we know about her is that she was protective of her sibs (as literally all of them are) I made her fierce and determined looking. Version without her death wound below
I got more confident in not following the canon designs super closely the more designs I made and it shows 😭😭 I never realized how much variety you can make in mudwings despite them being the 'boring' ones
adding image ID/alt texts tomorrow I needed to post this before I forgor but it's almost 12 and im tired goodnight jasper fans
#wof#wings of fire#mudwing#mudwings#clay wof#clay wings of fire#wof art#wof sora#sora wof#umber wof#marsh doesn't have a tag :(#i feel like that image of an ant with a bindle rn
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Trolls Band Together
I watched Trolls 3 and I loved it. It's not the perfect movie (there are so many plot holes and things that don't make sense), but it's still really good and entertaining. The story itself was very heartwarming and moving for a 90-something-minute kids' movie.
One thing that I noticed about specifically Branch and his brothers is that they are so much duller than all the other trolls. It's very obvious when you compare their Brozone-era selves to their adult selves. Compared to other pop trolls, the Brozone brothers dulled as they aged. I don't think that it's just because they got older, because we see Poppy and Cooper as babies and they didn't really change in color as adults (you can kind of argue that Poppy got brighter if you look closely at her as a baby and as an adult). Another troll character that we see two versions of is King Peppy. We see him as an old man and we see a flashback of him, 20 years younger, in the first movie. Even then, the only difference between current King Peppy and younger King Peppy is the gray streaks in his hair.
These three characters are all consistent in their colors. Poppy is pink. Cooper is pink and blue. King Peppy is pink and orange.
And then you have the Brozone brothers:
Now, not all of them had a drastic change like Branch did, but all of them are definitely duller than when they were young. I think that Branch dulled the most, followed by John Dory, Floyd, Clay, and Spruce. Since we know that Branch lost his color due to his clear decline in mental health (especially after his grandmother's death), I think that that's why Spruce was the one who lost the least amount of color. I think that out of all his brothers, he's the one who's done the best for himself after leaving.
Spruce is a business owner; his business partner is his wife (I loved Brandy so much) and he's a father. I think that of all his brothers, he and Clay were the ones that really 'grew up'. Spruce talks about how he changed his name to Bruce to leave behind his boyband days when he became a father. In the first flash back, Spruce is the one that butts heads with John Dory the most. During the scene where John Dory, Spruce, and Clay argue Spruce says "Why do you think I left? So that no one would treat me like you did." to John Dory. I think that even though Spruce was upset with his brothers and affected by the end of their band, he managed to get back some happiness with the family that he formed.
Clay is the second on my list because I think that he was able to find support in Viva and the other Putt-Putt trolls. Out of all the brothers (excluding Branch) we know the most about Spruce and Clay's lives after Brozone. And while Spruce found solace in his family, Clay had the Putt-Putt community. Clay, during the band days, was considered the 'fun one' and people (John Dory) did not take him seriously because of it. With the Putt-Putt trolls, Clay is well respected as the 'boring' half of the operation (in Viva's words). Clay has moments in the movie where he denies having any fun at all. We also see at the start of the movie that Clay can feel insecure when he looks out into the crowd and mutters how much pressure the performance is during the first flashback. Between him and Spruce, they are the only two brothers with cemented careers (Spruce as a business owner and Clay as a licensed CPA).
Floyd is third on my list because of one real reason and the rest is speculation. The reason why is because we know literally nothing about anything that he did after he went off soul searching. I assume he probably just wandered around by himself for a while or (my personal favorite headcanon) he lived with another type of troll, personally my mind goes to the rock trolls.
John Dory is after Branch because I don't think that twenty years of isolation is good for anyone (I mean, look at Branch). From what we know about John Dory he spent twenty years alone with only Rhonda (and we don't even know how long he has had Rhonda by his side). I think that she might be the reason he isn't gray-gray like Branch is, because we see how much he loves and cherishes her.
Branch is first, obviously because he's physically the dullest one and we know the most about him. He was abandoned by his brothers when he was a child, a few years later his grandmother was murdered right in front of him and he blamed himself. He isolated himself in a bunker that was meant to be a hideout for himself and his brothers (who abandoned him) for years-- let's say fifteen-ish years-- before Poppy wormed her way into his life. At the end of the first movie he regains his colors and in the first holiday special, we see that his colors have faded a bit. He's not as gray as he was at the start of the first movie, but he's also not the same vibrant blue that he was at the end of the movie. Throughout the movies and holiday specials his colors fluctuate, but he never really goes back to gray or blue.
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Hello! I am the tumblr anon who keeps getting you stuff from your wishlists. i was having a horrid day, went to your throne selfishly to see if you had anything that would cheer me up, then realized that i couldn't think of anything to buy for myself that i wanted, so i settled on buying stuff for an internet stranger that they wanted, hoping that at least that might make things in the world somewhat brighter. hope it worked!
MY ANONYMOUS BENEFACTOR
i was actually going to post about my throne wishlist ONCE AGAIN getting cleared out, because my stuff got here
and while throne alerted me to the fact that i would soon be receiving many novelty beverages to drink while listening to a podcast about alex jones, i did NOT realize there were also AMAZON WISHLIST ITEMS
so now my desk at work finally has a matching pink cat paw mousepad, and i have a little cold roller for my aching feets, and a special serum distributor to distribute serums on my scalp. i don't actually have any serums right now so i cannot review it but now that i have a special thing i'm gonna invest in some serums.
here are my reviews thus far of NOVELTY BEVERAGES, which you did not ask for but i'm doing it anyway
so i added an olipop sampler to my throne wishlist because i was intrigued but wary. they have a health angle and stevia so it seemed like it would taste bad. but i liked their design and also i didn't mind the stevia in that apple pie tea, so i thought maybe i got over my stevia thing
olipop cream soda: this was a bad one to try first because the flavor profile of a traditional cream soda is mostly sugar. it's just vanilla sugar, carbonated. so a sugar-free version is very stevia-forward. there's not enough other flavor to overpower the weird mouthfeel. i can drink it but it needs to be chilled and sipped in small amounts, maybe in a fancy glass.
olipop root beer: tbh i may have been wrong about the cream soda because this one also had weird overpowering Something flavor. i assume it's the stevia but maybe it's their proprietary blend of plant fibers, which is a weird thing to flex about your soda having. as a sarsaparilla and birch beer enjoyer, i like more bite than a standard root beer, and this has less. you'd think with their branding they'd be able to really lean hard on MEDICINAL ROOT FLAVORS but instead they chickened out and made it so mild it's barely different from the cream soda.
i haven't tried the other olipop flavors yet, but will report back with my findings
i also got a wild bill's craft soda sampler because. it looked good. and i was right. also now they keep sending me emails like YEEHAW PARDNER THANKS FOR BUYING OUR PRODUCT HOWDY GIDDY UP
wild bill's strawberry cream soda: it's so good. you can tell it's bad for you. the strawberry flavor is powerful and candy-like. it's like one of those crunchy grandma strawberry hard candies, in drink form.
wild bill's rocket pop soda: literally tastes like a melted popsicle got carbonated. it's everything i dreamed. i cannot possible afford to drink this regularly but i want to.
i haven't tried grape or orange cream yet but i'm guessing they'll be good. their website says they have a ring pop flavor now and i wanna try it so bad.
i'm also very excited to try the hot cocoa when it gets here, and to have more of the tasty beef jerky :3
#original#THANK YOU ANON ILU#i am sipping my rocket pop with glee#and i am so glad you got me the olipop so i could try it without feeling terrible
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✨Beyond saving - Pt. 3✨
Summary: I hate summaries, so this is part 3 of "Beyond saving".
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: 18+ only!, Smut, mention of rape (well, detailed), Language, Angst, Hurt, soft dean (literally), it´s just a loooot
Word Count: 7600
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
As another week has passed, Sam entered the kitchen, noticing you sitting alone on the ground, your eyes fixed on the table where Dean had inflicted so much pain upon you. He approached you cautiously, sensing the weight of your emotions hanging heavy in the air.
"Hey", Sam said softly. "How are you holding up?".
You glanced up at him, your eyes weary and filled with sadness. "I'm… I'm trying", you replied hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sam sat down beside you, offering a comforting presence as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "I know it's not easy", he said sympathetically.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Sam's embrace, the weight of your pain almost too much to bear.
"I know it's hard to believe right now, but Dean still loves you", he said gently. "He's hurting too, maybe even more than you realize. He hates himself for what he's done to you, for what the demonic version of himself did. It wasn't the real Dean, you know that, right?".
You nodded slowly, tears brimming in your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with Sam's words. "I want to believe that. But it's so hard, Sam. Every time I look at him, all I can see is… is what he did to me".
"I know", he mumbled. "But you have to remember that Dean would do anything to take back what happened, to make things right between you two. He's fighting his own demons right now, just like you are. And I know that deep down, he's still the man you fell in love with".
"I know it's going to take time", he said gently. "But I truly believe that you and Dean can find your way back to each other. You've been through so much together, and I know that love doesn't just disappear overnight".
"Thank you, Sam", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you".
Sam smiled warmly, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to thank me. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We'll get through this together, I promise".
As the days passed, you found yourself greeted each morning by the aroma of freshly prepared meals and the sight of a bouquet of flowers adorning your doorstep. With each delivery, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and hesitation, unsure of how to respond to Dean's gestures of remorse and affection.
Yet, despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the sincerity of his efforts. Each handwritten note contained memories of the happiest moments you had shared together, reminding you of the love and joy that had once filled your relationship.
With each meal and each note, Dean sought to bridge the gap between you, to remind you of the bond that had once bound you together. And though you remained guarded, the warmth of his gestures began to thaw the icy walls around your heart, slowly but surely.
As you sat alone in your room, reading through Dean's heartfelt words and savoring the meals he had prepared, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for forgiveness and reconciliation after all. And with that thought in mind, you found yourself daring to believe in the possibility of a brighter future, one where love and trust could prevail over pain and sorrow.
As the days passed, you found yourself slowly opening up to the idea of letting him back into your life, of giving him a chance to make amends for the pain he had caused.
With each meal he prepared and each note he left, Dean showed you that he was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness and rebuild the trust that had been shattered.
Two weeks later, as Sam ordered Pizza, Dean made his way towards sam and the delicious smell. As Dean reached for the pizza, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Startled, he turned to see you sitting next to Sam, your gaze fixed on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.
But then, a flicker of hope ignited within him as he realized what this moment meant. After weeks of isolation and silence, you had finally taken a step forward.
With cautious optimism, Dean approached you, his movements slow and deliberate. He sat down beside you, careful not to startle you, his heart pounding with uncertainty.
"Hey", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's, uh, it's good to see you".
You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his briefly before flickering away. Dean's heart ached at the sight of your pain.
As the dinner progressed, a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional clinking of utensils against plates. Dean tried to muster up the courage to speak, to break the tension that seemed to suffocate the room, but the words caught in his throat.
Your gaze fixed on your plate, unable to meet Dean's eyes or engage in conversation. Every fiber of your being screamed with discomfort, your stomach churning with anxiety from being in such close proximity to him.
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He longed to reach out to you, to apologize for everything he had put you through, but he knew that words alone would never be enough to mend the damage he had caused.
Finally, unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the tension with a forced smile. "So, uh, how's the pizza?", he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room.
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak, your throat tight with emotion. Dean swallowed hard, his own discomfort palpable as he forced himself to take a bite of his pizza, the taste turning to ash in his mouth.
Despite his best efforts to push aside his guilt and make things right, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud. As the dinner dragged on, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to truly make amends for the pain he had caused you.
As the tension lingered, Sam attempted to lighten the mood with small talk, but his efforts fell flat against the weight of the unspoken turmoil between you and Dean. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the heaviness in the air suffocating.
Dean's heart ached with every glance he stole in your direction, the sight of your pain etched into every line of your face piercing him like a knife. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you, to beg for your forgiveness.
For you, the meal was a torturous ordeal, you struggled to suppress the torrent of emotions threatening to consume you.
After dinner, Sam tentatively suggested watching a movie together, hoping to provide a distraction from the heavy atmosphere that lingered between you and Dean. He could see the strain etched on both of your faces and desperately wanted to find a way to bring a sense of normalcy back to your lives.
You hesitated, the thought of spending more time in Dean's presence filling you with dread. But with a small nod from Sam, you reluctantly agreed.
As Sam set up the movie, you and Dean found yourselves sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a palpable distance separating you. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but for the moment, you both focused on the screen in front of you, allowing the movie to serve as a temporary escape from the turmoil that surrounded you.
Despite the heaviness that still hung in the air, there was a glimmer of hope in Sam's eyes as he watched the two of you attempt to coexist in the same space. He knew that healing would take time and effort, but he was determined to do whatever it took to bring his family back together, one small step at a time. And as the movie played on, he silently prayed that tonight would mark the beginning of a new chapter for all of you.
As the movie played on, Dean found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from you, his heart aching with every fleeting glance he stole in your direction.
A torrent of guilt and remorse washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths.
In that moment, Dean would have given anything to ease your suffering, to take away the pain that he had inflicted upon you. If cutting out his own heart and offering it to you would mean healing your wounded soul, he would do it in a heartbeat.
But as he sat there, watching you, he felt utterly powerless, his own torment mirrored in your tear-stained eyes.
Another week passed, and tentatively, you began to open up to Dean once more. Your heart clenched with uncertainty as you heard his voice, but you knew that avoiding him forever would only prolong the pain for both of you. So, you found yourselves sitting across from each other at the large map-table.
Dean's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. "Are you able to sleep again?", he asked, his voice laced with concern and regret.
You hesitated for a moment, the memories of sleepless nights and haunted dreams flooding back to you. But then, with a small nod, you found the strength to answer. "Yeah, I am", you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
It was a small victory, but it felt like a significant step forward.
"I'm so sorry", he whispered, his words heavy with regret. "I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for what I did to you".
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you met his gaze. "You hurt me, Dean", you said, your voice quivering with emotion. "You hurt me in ways I never thought possible".
Dean's expression crumpled, his heart breaking as he listened to your words. "I know", he murmured, his voice choked with tears. "I know and I hate myself for it".
"You… you raped me, Dean", you continued, the words catching in your throat. "You violated me in the worst possible way".
Tears fell down Dean's face as he listened to your confession, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm so sorry", he repeated. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you".
You took a shaky breath, your heart heavy with pain. "I want you to understand", you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I want you to understand what you did to me".
"You shoved me against the table, Dean. You didn't care that I was begging you to stop. You didn't care that I was in pain".
Dean´s voice choked with tears. "I know, I know. I was a monster. I should have never—". But you cut him off. "You broke my wrists, Dean. Do you even realize how much that hurt? Every time I moved, every time I tried to do anything, I was in agony".
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never should have touched you".
By now, your voice was trembling with emotion. "And my ribs, Dean. You broke them too. Every breath felt like knives stabbing into my chest. I couldn't even breathe without feeling like I was going to pass out". Tears started streaming down your face.
"And then you… you fucked me until I bled, Dean. Do you understand what you did to me? Do you understand how much pain you caused?". You paused. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you, Dean. But I want you to know… I want you to know what you did to me".
Dean sat there with teary eyes and wet cheeks, his heart breaking with each word that fell from your lips. He listened to the pain in your voice, the anguish in your eyes.
Every detail you recounted of the horrors he had inflicted upon you pierced his soul like a thousand knives. He couldn't bear to look away, couldn't bear to turn his gaze from your tear-streaked face.
In that moment, he felt the weight of his actions crush him with a force he had never known before. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to hold you close. But he knew that he didn't deserve it, knew that he had caused you too much pain to ever be worthy of your love again.
All he could do was sit there, his heart heavy with regret, and pray that somehow, someday, he could find a way to make amends for the irreparable damage he had done.
"I lay there for hours", you confessed, the memories still vivid in your mind. "I couldn't move, couldn't even catch my breath. Every inch of my body was screaming in pain, and all I could do was lie there and pray for it to end".
You continue, your voice laced with bitterness and sorrow. "After that, I stopped looking for you", you admit, the words heavy on your tongue. "I stopped trying to save you, stopped caring".
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words sinking in.
Dean's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to your words, his knuckles white from the tight grip he held on his emotions. "I wanted to kill myself", he confessed in a voice barely above a whisper. "That's how much I hated myself for what I did to you".
Your words cut through the heavy silence like a knife, each syllable dripping with the bitterness of your pain. "I'm already dead because of what you did to me", you said, your voice laced with a coldness that sent a shiver down Dean's spine.
His eyes closed in anguish, the weight of your words bearing down on him like a crushing burden. You were his everything, the love of his life, and the thought of spending his days without you was unbearable.
"I wanted to marry you, to build a future together", Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I wanted to have children with you, to grow old with you by my side. But I… I broke you".
The pain and heartache radiating from him was palpable, and despite your own suffering, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the man who had once held your heart in his hands.
"I know", you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're hurting, Dean. But… but what you did to me, it's something I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive".
Dean's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to contain his emotions.
"I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't expect you to forgive me, not after what I've done".
During the following two weeks, Dean spared no effort to demonstrate that he was no longer the monster he had once been. He cooked for you, cleaned the bunker without being asked, and even went out of his way to avoid any situation that might make you uncomfortable. Every gesture was infused with a desperate longing for redemption, a silent plea for your forgiveness.
As you sat in the TV room, enveloped by the soft glow of the screen, a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap, you felt a sense of tentative peace settle over you. It was the first evening Dean and you had been alone since Sam and Cas had left on their hunt, and for once, the weight of the past seemed to lift ever so slightly from your shoulders.
Lost in the movie playing before you, you barely noticed when Dean appeared in the doorway. His eyes lingered on you, filled with longing.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. But then, with a hesitant step forward, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room.
"Mind if I join you?", he asked, his voice tentative as he gestured to the empty space beside you on the couch.
You hesitated, torn between the desire to push him away and the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. After a moment's pause, you nodded silently, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.
As Dean settled in beside you, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with gratitude and relief.
Dean watched you, his gaze lingering on your profile as you became engrossed in the movie playing on the screen. A flicker of recognition crossed his features as he realized it was the same movie from your first night together in the bunker—the night when everything had felt so new and full of promise.
"You remember this?", he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at you, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as memories of that night flooded back. "Yeah", you replied, your voice tinged with warmth. "It feels like a lifetime ago".
Dean's expression softened at your words, sadness clouding his features. "I miss those days", he admitted. "I miss us".
You turned to look at him. "I miss us too", you whispered.
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, lost in memories of happier times.
Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope or forgiveness. "Are you willing to give me another chance?", he asked quietly. "All I want is to make things right, to hold you in my arms and ease your pain. I want to heal what I destroyed, to show you that I'm not the same person I was back then".
You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret reflected in their depths. Part of you wanted to believe him. But another part of you was still wary, still hesitant to open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt again.
"I don't know, Dean", you admitted. "I want to believe that you're capable of being the man I once loved. But… I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt again".
Dean's heart sank at your words. "I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to show you that I'm worthy of a second chance. Just… please don't give up on me".
As you sat there, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, memories of your past with Dean flooded your mind. You couldn't deny the depth of your love for him, even now, despite the pain and betrayal you had endured.
You remembered the way he used to make you laugh, the warmth of his embrace, and the way his touch could make your heart race with excitement. Despite everything that had happened, a part of you still longed for those moments of intimacy and connection that you had once shared with him.
But alongside the memories of love and happiness, there was also the lingering shadow of pain. You couldn't forget the agony of that fateful night, the way Dean had shattered your trust and left you broken and bruised.
Yet, as you looked into his eyes now, you saw the same love and longing reflected back at you.
Dean's voice trembled with emotion as he opened up to you, his words raw and filled with longing. "I've missed you so much", he mumbled. "I miss the way you used to sleep on my chest, your soft breathing. I miss the sound of your laughter, the way it could light up a room and make all the darkness disappear".
He reached out tentatively, as if afraid you might pull away, and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Without you, I'm lost".
You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you listened to his words, seeing the pain and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything that had happened between you, you couldn't deny the depth of his love for you, or the longing in his voice as he spoke of wanting to make things right.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes with Dean, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. A whirlwind of emotions churned inside you—fear, longing, uncertainty—each vying for dominance as you grappled with the decision before you.
Part of you wanted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of your own walls and protect yourself from the possibility of being hurt again. But another part of you, a part that still held onto the memories of love and happiness you had shared with Dean, yearned for connection, for healing, for the chance to rebuild what had been broken between you.
And so, with trembling hands and a heart that threatened to burst from your chest, you leaned in slowly, ever so slowly, towards Dean. Each inch felt like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders as you closed the distance between you.
As your lips met his in a tentative kiss, a surge of emotion washed over you, overwhelming in its intensity. It was a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty, as you allowed yourself to let go of the pain and hurt that had consumed you for so long.
You cupped Dean's face in your hands, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.
Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure where to place his hands, afraid of scaring you away with too much intimacy. His heart clenched at the touch of your lips, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he finally felt the softness of your kiss again after so long.
Despite the pain that lingered in your heart, there was a sense of comfort in Dean's embrace, a familiarity that whispered of happier times gone by. For a moment, the world fell away as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the moment, each kiss a silent promise of hope and redemption.
But beneath the surface, there was still a lingering sense of uncertainty, a fear of the unknown that threatened to overshadow the fragile connection you were trying to rebuild. And yet, as you pulled away from the kiss, a glimmer of hope flickered in your heart.
With a shaky, uncertain voice, you whispered the words that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue, the silent plea of your heart reaching out to him. "Hold me", you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with the weight of your uncertainty.
Dean's heart skipped a beat at your request, his chest tightening with a mixture of hope and fear. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin as tears welled in your eyes.
Dean's hands trembled as he gingerly brushed over your back, his touch tentative yet filled with a quiet tenderness. With each gentle stroke, he tried to convey the depth of his remorse, the ache in his heart mirrored in the way his fingers traced soothing patterns against your trembling form.
You clung to him tightly, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you let out the pain and anguish. Your body shook with the force of your sobs, the emotional turmoil threatening to consume you entirely.
With a tenderness born of regret and longing, Dean pulled you closer to him, his lips hovering over your forehead as he held you in his embrace. His touch was gentle, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as you continued to sob against his chest.
Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked down at you, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the knowledge of the pain he had caused you.
"I love you", he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything in this world. I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, for the pain I've caused. But please know that my love for you has never faltered, not for a single moment".
As you looked up at him, your tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips betraying the turmoil within you, Dean's thumb gently brushed away your tears with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance that this fragile moment of connection wouldn't shatter beneath the weight of your shared past.
With a trembling breath, you leaned into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips met yours once more. The kiss was featherlight, tentative yet filled with an undeniable longing—a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a chance to start anew.
As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw emotion and longing. With a newfound sense of courage, you straddled Dean's legs, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving with a desperate urgency born of years of pent-up emotion and longing.
Dean's hands remained at his sides, a silent testament to his fear of causing you further pain or discomfort. He was surprised by your boldness, by the intensity of your kiss, but he dared not move, afraid that any sudden gesture might startle you and send you fleeing from his arms once more.
Instead, he surrendered to the moment, allowing himself to be consumed by the warmth of your lips, the softness of your touch.
As the kiss intensified, your tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Your hands roamed over Dean's broad shoulders, urging him to reciprocate, to touch you in return. Yet, he remained still, his hands trembling slightly at his sides as if unsure of what to do.
But then, as you pressed closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace, you felt it—a hardness pressing against you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Dean's erection, unmistakable beneath the thin fabric of your pajamas, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body, freezing you in place.
For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to proceed. The realization of what was happening between you, of the undeniable attraction and desire that pulsed between your bodies, sent your mind reeling. Could this be happening? Could Dean still desire you, after everything that had transpired between you?
But before you could gather your thoughts, Dean's voice broke through.
"I… I'm sorry", Dean murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to… I just…".
His voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet your eyes. You could see the conflict etched on his face, the turmoil raging within him as he grappled with his own desires and fears.
"It's okay", you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached out to cup his cheek, gently guiding his gaze back to yours.
But even as you spoke the words, uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could you truly forgive Dean for what he had done? Could you trust him again, after the pain and betrayal he had inflicted upon you?
As you took Dean's hands in yours, feeling the tremble of your own shaking fingers, you guided them slowly and cautiously to your hips. The simple act of touch sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, causing Dean's heart to race and his body to react with a twitch of arousal.
But despite the undeniable chemistry between you, Dean remained hesitant, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort. He wanted to be sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay with this, that you were ready to take this step together.
For a moment, the air between you crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between your bodies. But then, as you met his gaze with unwavering determination, Dean felt a surge of courage welling up inside him.
With a shaky breath, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was soft, gentle, a silent promise of all the things left unsaid between you.
Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, his words laced with both desire and restraint. "Do you… Do you want to go to our bedroom?", he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or reluctance.
You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you at his words, a mixture of longing and apprehension swirling in your chest. The idea of being alone with Dean in the intimacy of your shared bedroom filled you with both excitement and trepidation, a reminder of the love and passion that had once defined your relationship.
But as you looked into Dean's eyes, seeing the vulnerability, you knew that this was a chance for healing, for closure, for the two of you to finally confront the demons of your past and forge a path forward together.
With a nod, you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently as you rose to your feet. "Yes", you whispered.
Dean walked slowly, his footsteps deliberate and measured, as if he were afraid to rush or startle you. His hand, warm and comforting, brushed against yours in a gentle caress, a silent reassurance of his presence by your side.
As you followed behind him, the hallway stretched out before you like an endless expanse, each step echoing the rhythm of your racing heart.
And as Dean finally reached the door to your bedroom, he turned to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. Without a word, he reached out and gently pushed the door open, inviting you into the sanctuary of your shared space.
With a shaky breath, you stepped across the threshold, the weight of the past hanging heavy in the air around you. But as Dean closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.
Dean hesitated for a moment. "Is it okay if I… if I pick you up?", he asked softly.
You nodded slowly, your own voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, that's okay".
With a gentle smile, Dean reached out and scooped you up in his arms, his touch surprisingly tender as he cradled you against his chest. Despite the years that had passed, the memory of his strength and warmth flooded back to you, comforting and familiar.
As he carried you across the room, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt a sense of trust and safety wash over you, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that still existed between you.
And as he carefully lowered you onto the bed, his touch was feather-light against your skin.
As Dean hovered halfway over you, he hesitated, his voice trembling with nerves as he asked, "Would… would it be better if you were on top?".
You noticed the veins on his throat and arms standing out, evidence of the effort he was exerting to hold back for you. "It's alright", he mumbled. "If you want to be on top, it's fine".
His eyes searched yours for a moment, before you nodded slowly and before Dean lowered himself down beside you, his body trembling with anticipation and desire.
Dean´s fingers trembling slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt.
With a gentle touch, he lowered his mouth to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he brushed the shirt off your shoulders, revealing your naked breasts to him.
You met his gaze with a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes—vulnerability, longing, and a hint of fear. But despite the tumultuous storm raging within you, you nodded slowly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm okay", you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
With a gentle touch, Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he continued to undress you, his touch both reverent and filled with longing.
As you straddled his la, got rid of his shirt and pulled Dean closer, your body pressed against his, you feel the warmth of his skin against yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your nipples graze against his now naked chest, eliciting a soft moan from both of you. Dean's arousal, evident and undeniable, presses eagerly against you.
Dean's hand ventured beneath your pajama pants, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body. As his fingers brushed against your skin, he realized you weren't wearing underwear, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. His hand hovered tantalizingly close to your pussy, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.
"Can I touch you there?", he asked quietly.
Dean's heart skipped a beat as he watched you nod slowly, your breath heavy and your heart racing in sync with his own. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to crackle with electricity. With a nervous bite of your lip, you gave him the permission he sought, sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins.
His hand trembled slightly as it moved lower, tracing the contours of your soft folds. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively towards his touch.
Dean's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. With each gentle stroke, he teased and tantalized, his fingers dancing over your most intimate parts with a skill that left you breathless. Your head spun with desire as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment.
As the heat between you grew, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace. In that moment, there was nothing else that mattered—no past, no future, only the raw, primal desire that burned between you.
As Dean felt the warmth and wetness between your thighs, he knew you were ready. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to ease down your pajama pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.
"You okay?", he murmured softly, his voice laced with concern as he continued to undress you.
You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you struggled to contain your desire. "Yes, Dean", you whispered. "I want this".
With a final tug, your pants were discarded, leaving you completely exposed before him. And as Dean rid himself of his own sweatpants and boxers, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him—powerful and virile, his desire evident in every line and curve of his body.
Your breath hitched as you caught sight of Dean's erection, fear and uncertainty flashing in your eyes as he hovered above you. Sensing your hesitation, Dean froze, his own desire momentarily forgotten as he looked down at you with concern.
"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort or unease.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "I'm just… I'm scared", you admitted.
Dean's expression softened, a look of understanding and compassion flickering in his eyes. "I won't hurt you, I promise", he whispered. "I'll go as slow as you need me to".
Feeling reassured by his words, you let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Thank you", you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
As Dean continued to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tension and apprehension creeping into your body. Despite his best efforts to reassure you, you remained nervous and tense, unable to fully let go of the fear that still lingered within you.
Sensing your unease, Dean pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours again. When he saw the hurt reflected in your gaze, his heart clenched.
"What can I do to help you relax?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I want to make this special for you, to show you how much I care. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it".
You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the turmoil raging within you. But then, with a shaky breath, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need… I need you to be patient with me", you admitted, your words tinged with vulnerability. "I need you to understand that I'm still scared. And I need you to hold me, to reassure me that everything will be okay".
Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest in a tight embrace. And as you melted into his arms, you felt a sense of comfort and safety wash over you, the tension slowly beginning to ebb away in the warmth of his embrace.
"I'll be gentle, I promise", he murmured, his voice soothing and tender. "We'll go slow, at your pace. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?".
You nodded, a sense of trust and gratitude washing over you as you buried your face in his chest. "Okay", you whispered.
With a gentle sigh, Dean leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. His touch was soft and tentative, his lips moving against yours with a tender reverence that made your heart flutter.
As the kiss deepened, you felt his erection pressing against your wet folds, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your lingering apprehension, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between you, the desire that burned hot and fierce between your bodies.
With a soft moan, you pressed yourself against him, your hips rocking instinctively against his, seeking the delicious friction that would ease the ache deep within you.
Dean’s breath was heavy with anticipation as he looked down at you, his eyes burning with desire and longing. “Can I…?”, he began, nodding towards his between the two of you. His hand moved to his shaft, as if to emphasize his need.
Your heart raced at the thought of finally feeling him inside you again, of surrendering yourself to the passion and intensity of your shared desire. But a flicker of uncertainty danced in your eyes, a lingering reminder of the pain and heartache that had once torn you apart.
“I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with”, he assured you. “I just want to make you feel good, to show you how much I love you”.
With a shaky nod, you reached out and took his hand in yours, guiding him towards you. As his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, you felt the heat and urgency of his desire washing over you, igniting a fire deep within your core.
As Dean pressed slowly inside you, his movements careful and measured as he sought to ease your discomfort. But as he felt you wince beneath him, he immediately stopped, concern flashing in his eyes.
“Are you okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with worry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you met Dean’s gaze. “It’s okay”, you assured him, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I just… I need a moment”.
Dean nodded understandingly, his heart aching at the sight of your discomfort. “I’ll stop”, he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been more patient with you, especially after… after everything”.
You reached out and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You’ve always been patient with me”, you murmured, your voice filled with gratitude and love. “Even before that awful night”.
Dean’s eyes softened at your words. “I just want to make things right”, he whispered.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. "I want you to go on", you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to replace those memories of that terrible night with something beautiful, something loving".
Dean's eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling. "Are you sure?".
You nodded, your gaze never wavering as you met his eyes with unwavering determination. "I'm sure", you whispered. "I want this, Dean. I want us".
As Dean slowly pushed himself inside you, the sensation of being filled with him once again sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly and breathlessly, your body instinctively responding to his touch. But just as Dean buried himself completely within you, the memories of that terrible night crashed over him like a tidal wave.
His movements faltered, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the weight of his past mistakes bearing down on him. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to push the memories aside, to focus on the here and now, on the love and desire that flowed between you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the haunting images that lingered in the depths of his mind.
Feeling himself going soft again inside you, Dean’s heart clenched with frustration and self-loathing. He wanted nothing more than to give you pleasure, to show you how much he loved you, but the ghosts of his past refused to release their grip on him.
With a heavy sigh, Dean pulled away from you. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t do this right now”.
His gaze full of shame, as he got up from the bed and started to get dressed.
As you pulled up the blanket, your heart sank at the sight of Dean's retreating figure. Anxiety gnawed at your insides as you watched him hastily get dressed, his movements tense and hurried. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one more tumultuous than the last.
Was it something you did? Something you said? Was your hesitation the reason he couldn't stay hard? The weight of your own self-doubt threatened to suffocate you as you struggled to make sense of the situation.
Dean couldn't even look at you right now, so consumed was he by his own guilt and remorse.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him hastily getting dressed, his actions leaving you feeling confused and hurt. The weight of your own self-doubt pressed down on you like a heavy burden as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened.
“Did I do something wrong?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Was it because of me?”.
Dean paused, his hand hovering over his belt as he turned to face you. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something, to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault. But before he could utter a word, the door swung open, and Sam burst into the room, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him.
Misinterpreting the situation, Sam’s eyes darted between you and Dean, confusion evident on his face. “What’s going on?”, he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he took in the scene before him.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 4
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Taglist: @mayafatimakhan
#jensen ackles#deanwinchtser#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester#sam and dean#supernatural#spn#hurt/comfort#hurtful#violent love#love
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Yandere! Dragon x gn! royal! Reader
I told myself that i'm just going to write one for today, but the writing prompt was so good I just had to do a yandere version of it.
The Dragon has a human and humanoid form.
Also help this was so long and my mind was literally hazy from being sleepy while writing this.
TW: blood, massacre(?)
The Dragon was someone who was feared all in his life.
He was a symbol of greed, of death, of despair.
A symbol of a faith worse than dying when confronted with.
Yet despite being so infamous, he didn't give a second glance to the people who feared him. He only slept, hunted, ate, and occasionally roasted the humans and non-humans who dared to enter his palace.
He knew he will die alone, so he just awaited for his death.
That is, until he met you.
Sweet thing you are, walking around the forest outside his ruined palace looking for your lost dog who somehow got out of the castle grounds. You seriously didn't want to get out here in the forbidden woods but you loved your dog so much that you just had to.
The dragon was looking at you with a careless gaze, seemingly disinterested with your actions and was about to fly away when you suddenly stumbled into the trap he made to catch food for himself.
He sighed before transforming into his human form, jogging towards you.
But what he didn't expect to see is you going ham on the net, biting and gnawing on it like a feral little monkey.
The world was in a standstill.
Your face started to heat up and you let go of the net from your mouth. You cleared your throat and waved at him, embarrassed yet trying to sweep the incident under the rug.
The dragon's human body shook, a laughter bubbling in his throat threatening to escape. You looked away in shame and told him it was okay to laugh. And he let out the loudest laugh he had laughed after years upon years of living.
After laughing for what feels like an eternity, he freed your body who was dying of shame with a hidden blade near the tree.
You thanked him, still can't look straight as his face before running away. You tossed him a ruby before you ran though. It was also an off color. Giving the ruby an gradient of orange to red like a fire.
He smiled gently and picked the ruby up, caressing the cool feeling and bringing it up to his lips. With a kiss, the dragon kept it in his mouth, transformed, and flew away back to his palace.
The days go by and the dragon continued to watch you from the ruined palace. He loved watching you run around (with the dog that he found shivering close to a pile of rubble inside his territory) and do your royal duties. But he can tell that you prefer being active and was constantly being chased by your maids and servants.
Every night before he goes to sleep, he developed a new sleeping habit where he transforms into his humanoid form and just holding the off color ruby you gave him.
With this ruby, you gave him a new will in life.
It sounds superficial, but you made him look forward more to living.
He decided to secretly defend the kingdom by patrolling the territory, wanting to protect your smile that was brighter than the embers he blows.
Yet despite this, your father was a greedy, greedy man.
He wanted to tip the balance between other kingdoms that he considers his enemies.
So, the king offered your hand to the men who could kill the dragon in the ruined palace in search of a great swordsman.
The dragon was shocked, not because of the sudden manhunt, but the fact that the king placed wanted to give you away to some nobody.
He gritted his teeth.
Nobody was going to take you away from him.
He will make sure of it.
So he burned, massacred, and killed the men who tried to bring his head to the king, crunching their bones and spraying blood to the walls of his palace. The once ivory pillars with a little bit of char was now stained red, almost like the off color ruby he always safekept. The horrible stench of death wafted from the forbidden forest, warding off soldiers and warriors who wanted to be your spouse.
When nobody succeeded, the king gritted his teeth and tried to summon for the dragon. What he didn't know he would actually come.
"Sir dragon!" The king delightfully welcomed him. He was obviously afraid but was keeping his shivers intact. The dragon glared at him and sat down on the throne. The king gritted his teeth and yet he can't do anything.
The dragon glared down at him. The sun and mural at the back casting a fierce golden glow around him that reminded the king that he's not in charge anymore, but this fearsome Dragon.
"May I offer something priceless, sir Dragon. In exchange for your subordination with me!" The king boldly asked.
The dragon raised his eyebrow and burned holes with his stare at the king. "Speak, what is it?" His low, guttural growl emitted stray clouds of ember at the edges of his lips.
"My child!" The king yelled happily. "My only child will be your spouse. To heck with those who died trying to kill you in order to take them as their spouse. You can have them!"
The dragon's breath hitched, a heat bubbling on his stomach.
"Your child? You mean your one and only heir?"
"Yes! Them!"
The dragon leaned back and hid his smirk. This king, despite being so shitty, drives a hard bargain the dragon could not resist.
You sighed as the double doors opened. Your fate was already sealed when your father told you that you were a prize, a reward for the greatest swordsman out there who can kill the dragon.
You also thought you're free when the dragon lived with all the men who attempted to kill him die.
But why are you here, at the end of the church, walking towards the front in a wedding attire and a bouquet in your hand?
Instead, you were offered to the dragon as his spouse.
How cruel.
As you started getting close, you felt such an intense stare from the humanoid dragon, your groom, as he looked at you from afar.
You felt like he'll devour you alive.
Your father offered your hand to the dragon, and the dragon gripped your hand securely. As if when he'll try to loosen it, you'll run away like you always do.
"Look at me."
The guttural voice of the dragon made your hair stand on end so you looked up, your mouth letting out a gasp as his humanoid form transformed into one of a full human.
The human you met at the forbidden forest weeks ago.
The dragon was satisfied with how you looked at him in awe, fear, and familiarity.
As the ceremony went on, the exchange of rings took place. So he brought your hand up.
Your eyes widened when you saw your wedding band. It was made from a golden ring with a small off color ruby on it. Ruby that looked so familiar.
The dragon kissed your ring finger and looked at you with such an intense gaze once more.
"You're finally mine, love."
#yandere boyfriend#male yandere x reader#yandere writing#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere male#yandere!dragon
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I think the portraits in the game largely reflect how Harry sees the characters, and Kim's and Jean's portraits are framed in very similar ways. The pose and angle is the same, they're both wearing solid-color jackets with similarly-shaped collars in a contrasting color - and they both have halos.
I didn't notice Jean's black halo until I saw someone on reddit point it out. It's mostly hidden by the blond wig until the end of the game. That halo feels absolutely rank with meaning about Harry and Jean's past relationship, but we can't know with certainty what that meaning actually is, because we just don't know very much about Jean. Maybe Harry kind of deified him, like Dora (and Kim), until Harry became disillusioned and started resenting him for failing to be a saint; that seems the most symbolicly plausible, but I don't think there's anything in their interactions that suggests they had that kind of relationship. Jean is ten years younger than Harry and newer to the RCM.
But I think the similarities in their portraits suggest that Harry subconsciously sees Kim as a shiny, new, more exciting replacement for Jean, even before he knows who Jean is. When you look at them next to each other, it's striking how colorless Jean's portrait is; Harry sees Jean as kind of washed out and lifeless, even if he doesn't consciously remember their history. Kim's portrait is literally brighter and more full of life: his whole face is illuminated, whereas half of Jean's face is in shadow; Kim's looking directly at the viewer (Harry), whereas Jean is looking away; Kim's expression looks somewhere between engaged and neutral, whereas Jean just looks sad; and of course, Kim's halo is still white.
I have a relatively cynical interpretation of Harry and Kim's relationship, and I have to wonder: what happens when the novelty wears off? Harry's amnesia gave him a chance to start over and do things better this time around, and there are definitely versions of him that would do better, but there are also versions of him that would become resentful of Kim just like he might have done with Jean, if he starts seeing Kim as a flawed human being. And versions of Harry that would cling to Kim with an unhealthy dependence if he won't stop idolizing him, like with Dora. Dora and Jean kind of represent two different failure paths in Harry's past relationships, and I think post-Martinaise Harry could easily fall into the ruts of his past mistakes.
#disco elysium#de meta#kim kitsuragi#jean vicquemare#de os#i feel like jean's halo is probably common knowledge to jean-enjoyers#i didn't have particularly strong feelings about jean but honestly thinking about the possible meanings of the halo#has made me appreciate him as a character more#or... hm maybe not so much as a character in his own right but for what he might symbolize in harry's life
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nct 127 and their black cat partner
pairing: nct members x (gn) reader
type: headcanon?
warnings: none really
request: yes?
notes: i got an interesting request and i wasn’t sure how to go about it until i saw this svt reaction and so i went more this route
how i personally define a black cat personality: dark energy/vibe usually accompanied by a dark aesthetic but doesn’t always have to. not super fond of affection or prefers affection on their own terms. sassy with good quips and comebacks. has an interest in “darker” topics such as horror, the occult, “dark” psychology, etc. chronically unbothered. FIERCELY protective once you gain their love/loyalty. occasionally unhinged and feral (gets the zoomies whether physical or mental/verbal). big scorpio energy tbh
not taking requests at this time/cleaning out my inbox
masterlist | info
——————————————
taeyong- god he’s in love with you. like simp doesn’t even begin to cover it. you eventually become his protector since he’s so sweet and pure, you must fight anyone that hurts him. the best thing in the world is when you’re in your head and to everyone else it just seems like your brooding or annoyed or something, but taeyong sees right through that. he just comes over, kisses your face and hands you a switch like, “let’s play some animal crossing” 🥰
taeil- he’s like the brighter version of you in that you’re both really lowkey and don’t say much but he has like a happier energy. like you’re there to spread negativity and he kinda cancels it out. like black cat and brown cat vibes. he just generally finds you amusing. like all these people in the room and the only thing he really cares about it you. as much as he loves how protective you are of him, he does have to keep you reigned in a bit bc you are a bit of a “feral cat”. he still loves you all the same.
johnny- he’s lowkey your golden retriever bf. he’s like bouncing around and has all this energy and you’re sitting there like 😐. he makes you do more things than you really wanna do bc he’s an adventurer and you’re an indoor cat fr. “fine i’ll go but i’m not gonna be happy about it.” “yes!!!” he’s just happy to have you around and eventually you do kinda like wherever it is he’s brought you to. he brings you out of your comfort zone and you ground him.
yuta- my god does he love you. you’re the only one that can keep up with him. he’s mean but it’s in a flirty way and you’re mean in a “jokey” way but he loves it sm. sarcasm is y’all’s love language fr. he would quite literally d!3 for you if necessary but a big ol’ uno reverse card on that one. you’re just as fiercely protective of him and god, does he love it. one time you nearly got into blows with a “fan” who was harassing him. the smirk on her face when she went running, PLEASE!
doyoung- you’re his angel… fallen angel but an angel nonetheless. he LOVES teasing you in a playful way just to have you stare at him like 😒. he’s also super affectionate with you which you’re mostly indifferent about but he’s amused by your lack of amusement. his favorite thing is the way you show love bc it’s v cat like. you find little things to gift him like his favorite snack you picked up while you were out or a crystal you think he needs or something he said in passing that he needs or wants. you’re also great a quality time. just sitting with him reading a book or playing your switch while he’s doing something for work or himself. you’re just his favorite person to be around.
jaehyun- he just has this permanent smirk on his face watching you. like you’re 1000% in full gremlin mode, eating peanut butter from the jar, messy hair, in a hoodie that hasn’t been washed in a while, but he’s just like obsessed with you. he LOVES how sassy you are with people and the comebacks you have are god-tier. he loves to spoil you bc you kinda sit there and just stare at the thing for a few mins trying to process why he would spend money on you but 1) you’re his whole world and 2) he likes your reactions. it’s funny and cute to him.
jungwoo- so this man is so baby girl it hurts. some days you don’t even know how or why you’re with him or why he likes you but you learn just not to question it. but you’ve gotten attached to him and anyone that hurts him 😈👹 must d!3 👹😈. you’re the only one that can “be mean” to him but he has a degradation k!nk so he loves it. he’s pretty respectful of your space but every once in a while he needs a cuddle.
mark- another beast boy and raven duo (see my skz one) but y’all are so chill with each other but mark is chill… in a doofus (lovingly) way. i can also see kinda april and andy vibes. “someone will d!3…” “of fun?!” he’s a little scared of you but also a little turned on by you. but he’s always down to invoke the powers of darkness with you as long as you go get food together.
haechan- he’s intimidated by you in like a simp way. normally with everyone else he’s a little shit but you’re so hot and intimidating that he can’t help but 🧎🏻♂️🧎🏻♂️🧎🏻♂️ sometimes all you have to do is give him a look and he 😐. but he loves you so fucking much. if you aren’t a cuddly or affectionate person, you will be by the time he’s done with you. he gets real excited when your feral streak kicks in and y’all are lowkey manic together. the way this man hypes you up in a fight, if you ever get that far 😂
#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop fanfic#kpop scenarios#kpop reactions#nct#nct 127#nct imagines#nct fic#nct scenarios#nct reactions#nct imagine#nct headcanons#nct 127 reactions#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 blurbs#nct 127 scenarios#nct 127 fic#nct 127 headcanons#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 imagine#taeyong#taeil#johnny sun#nakamoto yuta#doyoung#jaehyun#jungwoo#mark lee#haechan
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look. I know there are probably a million and a half takes on this, but I had this thought, and it wouldn’t leave my brain, so now you have to deal with it too.
ian is not the sun.
ian is the moon, and mickey is the sun.
mickey is the sun, at least in ian’s eyes he is, because ian’s whole world starts ends and revolves around his husband. the pull mickey has on him feels like a gravitational orbit, stronger than any crush or infatuation ever has been, and no matter how much distance (physical and metaphorical) ian puts between them, he always—always—comes back to mickey. and mickey, well he burns hotter and brighter than just about anyone else they know, all barely checked temper and hot seething rage, and hell hath no fury like a mickey scorned because he will burn you faster than any fire ever could. and god, his eyes—do not get ian started on mickey’s eyes—they’re as blue as a cloudless sky on a summer’s day, all warm and wide and vast as the horizon, and ian could stare at them for hours the way he’d stare up at the sky in the backyard as a kid. and yeah, maybe sometimes you can’t look directly at mickey, like maybe you’ll get hurt if you stare for too long, but ian’s best friends are a pair of sunglasses and a bottle of spf, so he’s not exactly new to the sun game, and if he’s the only one who knows how to handle it—that’s more than fine with the both of them
and ian—ian is the moon the way mickey needs air to breathe, because yeah, maybe he’s all smiley and lukewarm to everyone he fucking meets, but that’s not ian, not the real ian, that’s just good fucking manners or whatever shit ian says, but mickey doesn’t care about that. mickey cares about the ian that’s only for him, the one that is there for him through everything, even the bad shit, like the little sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains on a really dark night, the little bit of comfort that’s enough to get him through the dark times and keep going until morning, like the guiding light on the sidewalks when he wanders home from work or the alibi or whatever late at night when the streets are empty and he’s alone. because mickey’s never really alone, not now that’s for sure, but not even then, when there were miles (metaphorical and literal) between them, because mickey would look up at the moon through the bars on the rec room window or the patio from his apartment in mexico and he’d think of ian, and his stupid fucking lopsided curved grin creeping up on his face like a crescent moon in its own right, and it’d be enough to get him til morning. even now, when he can’t sleep and he’s restless, he still looks for the moon, only now he doesn’t look out the window—why would he when he has the real thing on the other side of his mattress—he throws an arm and a leg over his husband like he’d lasso the moon if he could, and he pulls ian closer.
ian goes through phases, up down then up again, and they’re manageable, almost predictable if you study it close enough, like the phases of the moon or the flow of the tide, in and out, waxing and waning, and mickey loves all versions of ian, the full bright smiles and the dark barely there days, and every variation in between. because ian is still ian, no matter what stage he’s currently in, the same way the moon is still that bright glowing rock in the sky night after night, and mickey is happy to get pushed and pulled like waves on the shore under ian’s influence.
mickey studies the galaxies printed on ian’s body, across his chest and stomach, his shoulders and his arms, even the little ones dotting the backs of ian’s hands, and mickey finds peace in the stardust that paints ian’s skin, in the constellations he maps out on ian’s face with his lips, and even tho the freckles there are more faded then when they were kids, mickey still knows where every single one of them is. he brushes his fingers over the new one above his eyebrow, the one ian got after spending a little too much time with his tomato plant the other day, and mickey feels like an astronomer discovering a new star that he just never would’ve been able to see five, ten years ago on his own personal night sky, but he’s here to see it now so he kisses his latest discovery and falls asleep dreaming of a name for his newest constellation
#nobody asked for this bit it wouldn't leave my head#these are the kinds of things i'm thinking about at any given time#idek if this makes sense but here you go anyways#gallavich#sun mickey#moon ian#sun and moon#shameless#gallavich ramblings#mickey milkovich#ian gallagher#ian x mickey#mickey x ian#inner monologue#shameless us#ian and mickey
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Times I Remember Well
(and Some That I Don’t)
Part 3
author’s note: Thank you for reading this ridiculous story. Now for the good stuff.
pairing: female!OCxjake
time frame: 2016-2018
word count: almost 7.8k this part
warnings: language, underage drinking (implied), mentions of sex and sexual situations, nudity, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected penetrative sex
You know how most people’s lives change pretty drastically when they move away for college?
What, were you expecting me to claim that I was different, special in some way?
I’m not.
If you’re wondering, Sam and I were fine. I guess he’d matured enough to keep speaking to me when he found out I’d almost fucked his brother. I was still immature enough to give him a classic three day long silent treatment over the whole Sam said he thought you were fucking that guy you dated thing.
I even made him agree to never bring me up to Jake again. Ever.
Anyway, my first semester of college kind of kicked my ass. I was smart enough, but I couldn’t decide on a major and it made the whole experience feel like a waste of time. I didn’t meet anyone worth much of my effort to get to know, and I spent a lot of nights alone in my dorm room. I barely even liked my roommate. Meanwhile, Sam was at home breezing through his last year of high school and preparing to actually go on tour.
Like a real tour. It was my worst nightmare. And I had to hear all about it when I came home for winter break.
But he was excited, of course he was. And I was proud of him. And Josh, and Danny. I couldn’t bring myself to have positive feelings for Jake. After he’d rejected and embarrassed me (again), I’d run off to school determined to lose my v-card to literally anyone who’d never been to Frankenmuth or heard of their band. Fortunately for me, almost no one had heard of either.
So, I did. And Matthew Nowak had been a very cursory and lazy fuck, but he got the job done. I mean, he popped the cherry or whatever, he didn’t make me come, and I never gave him another opportunity to try.
I almost didn’t even go home for Christmas, my dad had been begging me to come see him, but I knew if I didn’t go home, I might never see my best friend again.
Was that a little dramatic? Sure, but the dates for tour were going to start around my birthday, before he even graduated, and he wouldn’t be home for the entire summer. There were talks of getting signed, to a fucking label. Releasing their music to the world. Jake’s dreams were coming true and he was stealing my best fucking friend from me.
He really was an asshole.
I went back to school in the spring a little sad, nostalgic for a time when things were easy and fun, and I always had a weekend smoke sesh in the Kiszka garage to look forward to. There was nothing for me to look forward to in Ann Arbor. Until I met Soph.
Sophie and I were paired up within the first few days of one of our classes, and thank God we were. We clicked instantly, she was almost like a female version of Sam with even better hair.
She got me out of my slump, out of my dorm room and out of my own head.
As we started hanging out more outside of class, we learned about each other’s lives at home, and she let me talk endlessly about Sam. About moving away from Traverse and finding the best friend I’d ever had, growing up with him, becoming an adult at his side.
I don’t remember exactly when it happened, but eventually I ran out of stories and didn’t feel the need to talk about him much anymore.
For a few months, we worked hard and partied harder, and I felt more and more like myself, or my new self, with her help. My new self must have been putting out certain vibes that attracted attention, because I wasn’t hurting for it. Not that I really had back home, but home had narrowed my view, the Kiszkas my whole world. Even when I did date boys, Sam was there to tell me he didn’t like them, then Josh was there shining brighter than the sun, blinding me to them.
Then Jake was there. Ruining me for everyone else, just by existing.
In Ann Arbor, Soph had the opposite effect. Every guy was cute, cute enough to talk to, flirt with, party with. A select few were hot enough to make out with, let them touch our bodies, we would touch theirs. Dance with them, let them pull us close, throw our arms around them and tell them to take us somewhere quieter.
There was that one time, I’d gone back to this guy’s dorm and he’d put a playlist on shuffle. Ya know, so we wouldn’t be heard. And right before I put his dick in my mouth, fucking Highway Tune started playing.
Instant no. I left him there with a hard-on and zero promises of returning.
But anyway, Soph and I had fun every weekend, studied every weeknight. By the end of the second semester, we’d decided on my major, and made sure we would share more classes in the fall.
When summer break rolled around, we spent the first half with her family in Grand Rapids and the second, reluctantly, with my mom. Home was weird without Sam, but he was off galavanting across the U.S. Communication between us had been sparse, though he did call me once every few weeks to fill me in, and let’s be honest, brag. I didn’t mind the bragging, much, but even with how well things were going at school, I’d have given anything to drop it all and be with him.
Even if it meant tolerating Jake.
Life goes on, time keeps on slipping, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning and all that.
College was hard, but Soph and I really buttoned up in the fall. More studying, fewer boys, a little less fun, but Michigan gets cold fast and running wild all over campus didn’t hold the same appeal. We vowed to live it up in the spring, maybe settle down and get some boyfriends. Maybe not.
“Holy shit holy shit!”
We were in the library, Soph across the table from me with wide eyes, laptops, books and notes spread out between us.
“Shhh! What? What the fuck?” She leaned in conspiratorially and I turned my phone around to show her the screen.
“They’re playing in Detroit. They’re coming home!”
“Will you be quiet? Who, Sam’s band?”
That made me laugh every time. I always called it Sam’s band, because he would’ve loved it and someone else I knew would have loathed it.
They hadn’t been home in forever, they were hardly even in the states, and when they’d played the Fillmore in the spring I’d been so bogged down with new classes and so much fucking homework, I couldn’t justify leaving campus let alone the city.
But they were coming back, and I’d be on winter break. Sam had sent me their schedule, which I’d thrust into Soph’s hands.
“Aww, reunion! I wish I could go with you.” Her pouty face was unmatched, but she was going with her parents to visit family in Ohio for the holidays. For a moment, that realization made me panic. I wanted to go, needed to see my best friend, but to do it alone? Why did that make me nervous?
Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in two years. Maybe because I hadn’t seen him in more than two. I doubted I’d even get to spend much time with Sam, and I doubted further that I’d be able to get him away from the others.
Not that I wouldn’t want to hang out with Danny, or even Josh. But… well, you know.
I wondered if they were going home for the brief break between Detroit and Seattle, and I made a mental note to ask Sam.
I’d insisted on buying my own ticket to the show, their third added at the Fox after the first two sold out, but Sam wouldn’t hear of it. He set me up with a ticket and access to see them backstage, and I tried not to let it get to my head. It's not like they were famous or anything.
Selling out multiple shows.
I FaceTime’d Sophie so she could help me decide what to wear - I hadn’t put this kind of pressure on an outfit since the night I kissed… yeah, you saw how that went.
We landed on skin tight faux leather pants, an extremely low-cut black and tan floral print top with a fitted bodice and wide, flowy sleeves, and chunky black boots. I planned to top it off with a vintage fur coat Sam and I had found thrifting a few years back. We’d always joked that it originally belonged to the old lady they named their band after.
“Okayyyyy, so what about your underwear?”
I stopped spinning in front of my phone, where I’d been showing Sophie the whole get up.
“What the fuck do you mean, my underwear? Who cares?”
“Babe, it’s a rock show! What if you meet a super hot guy with like, tattoos and a tongue ring that wants to rock your world?” I watched her eyebrows waggle as she stuck her own tongue out at me.
“Yeah I don’t think that’s really their demographic.”
But… an idea started to form. Sexy underwear would make me feel sexy. Who would be irritated to see me, looking and feeling sexy, arguably hotter now than I’d ever been? Who would be downright furious to watch me get a little flirty, a little provocative with another man? Men? His brothers?
Ohhh, Jake Kiszka was gonna kill me. And it was gonna be worth it.
The ticket Sam held for me was in the front fucking row. Of the seats, behind the pit floor, but still. How embarrassing, what if I didn’t know any of the words? I didn’t really listen to their music, not since I was in high school, watching them practice or play at Fischer.
As you can imagine, I didn’t need to worry. Every, single, song was familiar. Songs that they’d written or started writing when Sam was barely fifteen. But the people around me knew them all, better than I did actually.
That was… pretty cool.
I left my seat as the guys were blowing kisses and throwing flowers into the crowd, stopped in a bathroom to check myself out, and followed Sam’s directions to make it backstage. The guys made it there before me, I could hear their excited voices from the hall as a security guard led me to their green room. We slowed as we got closer, and I stopped the guard before we reached the door, composing myself, slipping my coat off, smoothing my hair and controlling my expression.
You should've seen his face when I walked through the doorway, slow clapping and wearing my best deadpan. They all turned their heads in my direction, but his face was the one I sought out.
His cheeks were still flushed from the stage (he honestly goes crazy up there) but he immediately turned so bright pink I hoped his head would explode.
“YOU’RE HERE! Holy shit, you’re here!” Sam rushed at me and instantly my feet were off the ground, he swung me around and I couldn’t help the smile that stretched wide as I laughed with him.
“You’re sweaty! Put me down, idiot!” He dropped me to my feet and grabbed a hand, lifted it above my head and spun me in a circle.
“Look at you, you look hot, T!” His laughter cracked loud and joyous and my heart soared. He didn’t mean anything by it, of course, but he was right and I knew it.
Danny approached me next, taller and even broader than I ever remembered him being, and wrapped me up in another sweaty hug. “Good to see you, did you get tinier?” We laughed and I slapped him away. Then Josh caught my eye, arms crossed over his bare chest under an open black vest and leaning against the vanity, grinning.
I moved toward him and he met me in the middle, opened his arms and threw them around me. He didn’t make fun of me, or comment on the way I looked. Our cheeks were pressed together and he turned his face and dropped a kiss to mine. “We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you guys too, more than you know.”
He let me go and his grin stretched into a blinding smile. “What’d you think of the show?”
“It was fucking awesome, I can’t believe you guys are like, legit rockstars! Seems like yesterday you were jamming in your garage.” Sam sidled up and threw a long arm over my shoulders.
“To be fair, we didn’t really stop jamming in the garage until last year, T.”
I knew that, I guess. But I’d missed it, and I’d missed the moment my best friend grew up. But this wasn’t the time to get weepy about that. I still had a mission to accomplish.
Turning out of Sam’s hold, I faced him. He no longer looked apoplectic, but his nostrils were flared and his arms were crossed, one hand running a finger across his chin below pursed lips. His focus was distinctly somewhere on the floor, but I walked toward him and watched his eyes connect with my boots and then travel, slowly, all the way up my body.
Get a good look, asshole.
And he did, his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second on my hips, and then again on my chest before it finally met my face.
Say something stupid, I dare you.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
My own eyes rolled in my skull. “Good to see you too, Jacob. How have you been?”
His features twisted in confusion for just a moment before he smoothed them back out. Good.
“Fantastic, living the dream, ya know. How have you been, Tiny?”
“Oh, really good!” I crossed one arm, tucking it under my tits and pushing them up while I twirled a finger through a strand of my hair with the other hand. “I’m majoring in English and Writing and aced all of my finals this past semester. Just really living my best on-campus life. Work hard, play hard and all that.”
It was so satisfying, the way he’d accidentally looked at my chest and then failed to look back at my face until I was done speaking. I swear to you my pussy fluttered when he swallowed, hard, before responding. It was that satisfying.
“That’s- ahem, that’s great. Glad to hear it. Thanks for coming by to say hi or whatever but we need to pack up our gear and head to the hotel.”
Nice try.
“Oh, cool! I’d love to come with you guys, I just miss you all so much.” His face started turning pink again before I looked over my shoulder. “Sammy! Can I come with and hang out at the hotel? Just for a little bit?” I whipped my head back, my hair swinging with it, to see his face before Sam even answered.
I wanted to see if steam came out of his ears.
“Fuck yeah! You can crash with me if you want!”
One corner of my mouth lifted and curled. “Perfect!”
I regret to inform you that no steam came out. But I think it was pretty close.
When I pulled in at the hotel, I texted Sam and he told me they were in the lobby so I flipped my visor down, checked my face and fluffed my hair. After a deep breath, I got out of the car and made my way inside.
The hotel wasn’t anything too ritzy, and I figured despite it all, they weren’t that famous. Sam still looked and sounded like the best friend I’d grown up with, though there was something about him that had become more attractive. All of them actually exuded more… sex appeal?
Ugh, musicians.
My timing was pretty good, I entered the building in time to catch them getting in the elevator, Jake being the last left in the lobby. But we caught each other’s eye and instead of walking on, he backed up a step. The doors closed and the elevator rose without him.
He stood there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, and waited for me to reach him. When I did, he spoke before I could.
“What are you doing here, T?”
I painted confusion on my face instead of the pure gratification I actually felt. “Visiting my friends? What are you-“
“Cut the bullshit. It’s unbecoming.”
Okay, that was a little wrinkle in my plan. I hadn’t even started shamelessly flirting with anyone yet and he was already cursing at me. I doubled down.
“I came to see them, Jake.” I pressed the button to call the elevator back down and crossed my arms.
“And what about me?”
“What about you?” Just as I glanced up, feigning more interest in the LED display of numbers as the elevator came down than this conversation, he stepped closer and gripped my arm. Pulled me closer.
It felt familiar.
“I’m not buying it. Come on.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to an empty car, but he was already pulling me down a hall toward a stairwell door. It swung open as he shoved through it, yanked me through and pushed me ahead of him, and it slammed shut behind us.
The stairwell was silent, our breathing was amplified and bounced off the walls. His voice made me flinch.
“Third floor. Go.”
Four flights of stairs and two landings separated me from their room. That was fine, I could do it.
Except he stayed behind me the entire time and didn’t speak a word. By the time I pushed the door to the third floor open, my nerves were fried and I was still trying to discern his reasoning for taking the stairs. If he had yelled at me or pushed me to the wall and kissed me in the stairwell, it would’ve made more sense. Instead, he placed a hand low on my back and led me down a deserted hallway to room 307. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, ready to abandon the plan completely and run to Sam, use him as a personal human shield for the rest of the night.
But he pulled a key card out of his pocket and slid it into the lock, and the heavy door opened to a dark, empty room.
Jake stepped inside and flicked on a light, holding the door open for me. I didn’t move.
“Jake, what-“
“Get in here, we need to talk.”
It sounded like a terrible idea, I hadn’t come here to talk. I came to spend time with Sam and do enough harmless flirting with the guys to drive Jake crazy.
“No. Where are the guys?”
He just stared at me for a tense few seconds before he sighed impatiently. “In Sam and Danny’s room.”
“And which room would that be, exactly? I’ll just go knock-“
“Please.”
I know, I know. Did he really have to go and ask nicely?
“Fine, you know what? You have five minutes then I’m the fuck out of here.” He had the nerve to give me a tight-lipped smile, lift his palm and wave me in as I started to pass him and head into the room. Then he let the door swing shut.
We were alone.
The room was pretty standard, two queen-size beds, a table and two chairs. Not exactly rockstar shit. I tossed my coat onto the closest bed.
“You want a drink?”
I dropped into a chair, crossed my legs and folded my hands over my knee. “No, I don’t. What did you need to talk to me about? You have four minutes.”
He pulled a White Claw out of the mini fridge, popped the tab and sat at the end of the bed closest to me. After a swig from the can, he leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees.
“Three minutes.”
“Jesus, give it a rest, T.” He pinned me with a glare and my eyes widened. “Don’t. Don’t act all affronted because you’re not getting your way, I’m sick of it.”
“I don’t know what you mean, I-“
“Stop! Tell me why you’re really here.”
“To see Sam! I told you-“
He stood from the bed, leaned across me and slammed the can onto the table. I jumped in my seat, but then he bent down and gripped the arms of the chair on either side of me. Right in my face, he ripped me to shreds.
“I’m tired of this, T. Since day one, everything has always had to be all about you, your feelings, your stupid ideas, your fucking games.”
That was ridiculous and it straightened my spine, I sat up taller and put us nose to nose, but he didn’t stop.
“How many times have you come between us and Sam? Pitted us against each other? Run away when you didn’t get your way, with one of us or all of us?”
With a huff, he pushed himself away from me but now I was ready for a fight. Launching from the chair, my body followed his. “And what about you, Jake? You spent years fucking with me, leading me on, just to humiliate me over and over again!”
“Is that really what you think?!” We were squared up now, hands flailing as we yelled in each other's faces. “I didn’t do shit, and you spent years avoiding me, making me feel awkward and unwelcome in my own house because God forbid I ever be in the presence of such a self-entitled, delicate fucking princess!”
“Oh, you fucking prick. Fuck you-“
“So eloquent, that’s really lovely Tiny.”
You already know that he said that on purpose.
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I was fuming, the steam was probably coming out of my ears, and that pissed me off further. Everything about this was infuriating, my night completely off-railed, my time with my friends ruined. I was done.
I threw my hands up and then put them on his shoulders, with all intention to shove him out of my way and walk out of the room with some part of my dignity intact, for once.
But that’s not exactly what happened.
Because once I touched him, the tension reached a breaking point. And boy did it break.
Before I could push him away, his arms were around me, his hands spread across my back, and he pulled me in.
Yep, he was kissing me.
Our mouths slammed together and all the anger, all the fury, combusted between them.
My own hands betrayed me and shot from a grip on his shoulders to a grip in the hair at the back of his head, still slightly damp from sweat or a shower at the venue, I had no idea. And I didn’t care.
He ravaged my lips until they felt bruised, opened them with his and forced our tongues to battle for dominance, sucked the air from my lungs until I couldn’t breathe. I pulled away to drag some back in but he hardly gave me the chance, tugging me back in to kiss my lips, bite my jaw, murmuring between the attacks.
“Why are you really here…”
His hands slid up my back and sunk into my hair, pulled my head to the side so he could continue his attack on my neck, my throat.
“Say it, the truth.”
My brain was in shut down, I forgot what words were and how to make them. His teeth reminded me, scraping along my skin.
“You. For you.”
His lips closed over mine again and he was moving me, two steps backward and we turned, the back of my knees hit the bed where he’d been sitting. Our mouths broke apart, our hands fell away. The sound of our breathing, fast and uneven, thundered between us.
“I’m not gonna stop this time, T.”
My heart stumbled over its next few beats.
“I don’t want you to.”
We fell back into silence as he reached forward and slid his hands up underneath my shirt, rough fingertips pushing the fabric up over my ribs, my chest, I lifted my arms and let him pull it over my head and shook my hair out as he let it drop to the floor.
There was just enough light coming from the only one he’d flicked on, and the moonlight spilling through the uncovered window, that I saw his nostrils flare. His eyes trailed over my lace and silk covered chest before meeting mine.
“You’re so beautiful,” My breath caught, I held it. “I’ve never told you how beautiful you are.”
I couldn’t speak, emotion squeezing my throat, the words I’d always wanted to hear from him tightening every muscle in my body. So instead, I mirrored his actions and tucked my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt. Soft, heated skin met my touch and I flattened my palms over his hips, up over his stomach and I swear he trembled. Seriously! When they made it to his chest, I could feel the hard, steady beat of his heart, rapid beneath my hand.
Maybe he knew I could feel it, maybe not, but he leaned in and pulled a soft, sweet kiss from my lips before he took over and tugged the shirt over his head.
“Jake…” His chest and stomach were lightly toned and completely flawless, a glimpse of which I’d gotten when he was onstage, shirtless under an open jacket. I wanted to tell him just how perfect I thought he was, he’d always been, but the words wouldn’t come. So I bent my knees and dropped to the bed, the barely there happy trail leading up from the low waist of his pants now directly in front of my face.
I leaned forward and kissed it. A strangled noise came from above me, I smiled against his skin. Then his hand was in my hair and he pulled, forcing my face up. He smirked.
“You ever done this before?”
Asshole.
Blindly I reached for and found the button of his jeans, popped it open and worked his zipper down slowly.
“Please don’t piss me off, or I won’t be nice.”
A chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Just making sure.”
His grip in my hair kept my chin tilted up, eyes locked with his. I peeled the denim over his hips and pulled it down to his knees. Heat rolled off his body in waves, I was dying to look at it, take it all in but there was fire in his stare and I was burning. My fingertips mapped out what I couldn’t see, found the subtle V that led down into his briefs and traced it before I tucked them under the elastic and rolled it down his legs.
Jake Kiszka’s cock bobbed in the air between his hips and my face. Crazy, I know. I wrapped shaky fingers around him, felt how thick and hard he was before I’d even seen it, tried to picture what I could remember from his dark bedroom.
“Fuck, T.” I tightened my grip on him, just a little, stroked him once. His eyes slid shut. “I can’t believe you’re here.” I stroked him again and his grasp on my hair loosened, my chin dropped and there it was. As perfect as the rest of him, his dick was big, the head flushed pink. My mouth watered.
For real.
In that moment, I wondered quickly what he liked, how fast, how slow, how hard? My tongue slid out and tasted him, just the very tip, and he snatched my hair up again. The sting in my scalp made my eyes water and I opened my lips and took him in, wrapped them around him and swirled my tongue over his skin. He whimpered.
I could be remembering that wrong, but I swear he did.
He wanted to take control, I could feel it in the smallest amount of pressure from his knuckles on my scalp, but I wanted to be stubborn. I was tired of the control he seemed to have over every one of our interactions. I released him with a soft pop and his eyes shot open.
“C’monnn,” he groaned. I took my hand off of his dick and pushed him back, he almost stumbled, his legs still trapped in his half-removed jeans. I stood from the bed, spun us around and reversed our positions, then pushed him by the shoulders to sit.
“Patience, Jake, patience.” I flicked the front clasp of my bra open and felt the unrestrained relief as my tits spilled out, then that flutter of satisfaction as his eyes went wide right before going soft and dreamy. What can I say, Jake’s a breast man. “Aht.” He’d reached for them, lifted his hands like he just couldn’t wait to feel them again, but they paused in midair. “I said patience.”
He huffed out a sigh and dropped them, so I continued. Made a little show out of unzipping my boots, sliding them off and peeling the skin-tight material of my pants down my legs. His fingers flexed against his thighs the entire time, clenching into fists and releasing over and over. I waited until I was left in just the lacy thong to instruct him to remove his pants.
His boots were kicked off and denim tossed away in an instant.
And there we were again. Jake, fully bared to me while we stared at each other, my tits out and pussy covered. But this wasn’t going to end the way it did two years ago.
Not if I had anything to say about it.
I dropped to my knees and his legs spread, making room for me to kneel between them. His cock jumped when I touched him, just my fingertips, up his shins and over his kneecaps before I placed my palms flat on his thighs. When I peeked up at him through my lashes, he was staring hard, jaw clenched and nostrils flared again. So I continued to trace my fingers over his skin, further up his thighs, over his hips, up and down his happy trail.
Through gritted teeth, “Baby, please.”
Baby? I was throbbing, slick between my thighs already but that hit me like lightning.
I wrapped a fist around him at the base and took him all the way to the back of my throat.
I had to.
A string of rough curses fell from his lips and a hand tangled in my hair, but I kept my composure, sucking him in and stroking with my fist, letting him sink as deep as I could without choking. His skin was hot velvet on my tongue, I could taste his desire, his need, and I couldn’t help the moan that rippled up my throat around his cock.
“Jesus fuck.” His hips jerked, I gagged around him, he fisted the hair at the back of my head and yanked me off of him. “Get up here.”
Remember how I wanted to maintain the control here? Yeah, I failed.
He used his grip on my head to bring my lips to his, his tongue sweeping in to dance with mine immediately, his hands moving down my body to pull me up and into his lap. I threw my arms around him and rocked into it instantly, his roving hands landing on my ass and pulling me in, his dick rock hard and slick with my spit grinding against my silk-covered pussy.
Just like that, I lost control of my insolent mouth too.
The kiss broke and I rested my forehead on his, my eyes trained on what was happening between our hips. “God… I-“ The head of his cock caught on my clit, I gasped at the feeling. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Embarrassing, I know. But then… ohh then.
His hands skimmed up my ribs until they were cupping my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples.
“I’ve wanted you longer, T. Forever.”
Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps ran up my arms, I shivered, my nipples tightened, and he pulled one into his mouth. He sucked and lapped at it, thumb still moving over the other, and without hesitation he sunk his teeth in.
“Fuck yes, yes yes…”
His tongue circled it again and he released it, pressed a hot and fast kiss to my mouth.
“You still like that, huh?” He chuckled as he opened his lips over the other side. The silk between my legs was soaked, I could feel how easily I was sliding over his cock, and I was getting impatient despite the way I’d reprimanded him hardly ten minutes ago.
“Jake, please…”
He popped off of my nipple and pulled another kiss from my lips, then leaned back and let one corner of his mouth curl up, self-satisfied and cocky.
Still an asshole.
“Please what, baby? Tell me.”
My eyes rolled, even as he tucked his face into the crook of my neck, nipped and licked me there.
“I want you inside, please fuck me.” Self-control, out the window.
“Mmm,” he hummed into my skin, “No.”
Before I could be properly offended, and believe me, I was, he gripped my thighs and hauled me up, then deposited me onto the mattress. Well, tossed me, really. I bounced once, arms and legs flailing, hair falling in my face. By the time I pushed it away and propped myself up on my elbows, he was standing at the foot of the bed, dick in his fist. I opened my mouth to speak, to yell at him or beg him to stick it in, I don’t know, but he was stroking himself, and he moaned. My mouth snapped shut.
“I’m not gonna fuck you,” I scoffed, offended, pissed even. “Yet.” He let himself go and placed his hands on the mattress, then climbed onto the edge of the bed and started crawling towards me.
It was so fucking hot. His cheeks were flushed, his hair wild from my hands, his eyes dark. I backed away, moving up the bed until my shoulders met the headboard. He didn’t stop coming, and I didn’t want him to. Instinctively, my knees bent and my legs fell open, inviting him in. But he didn’t settle there, when his hands reached me, he grabbed me by the calf and threw my leg over his shoulder on his way down.
His mouth opened over damp silk and I cried out, his name or God’s, I’m not sure, but his lips and tongue were moving against me and I may have blacked out. I came to when one of his hands skimmed up my inner thigh, and he broke away long enough to slip two fingers under the material and tug it aside.
Jake Kiszka’s tongue was on my actual, bare pussy.
My shoulders sagged against the headboard as I reached for him, burying my fingers in his already tangled and unruly hair, our eyes met and he dragged his tongue over me again and again.
“Shit, you were right, this is better,” I panted. He smiled against my cunt and I felt it. I smiled too.
My cheeks hurt I was smiling so hard, until he laser-focused his attention to my clit. His lips wrapped around it and he sucked it past them, my jaw dropped.
“Oh, oh my God, oh my God!” He was good at this. Too good. The beginnings of an orgasm were already swirling, tightening in my belly, making my toes tingle. The tip of his tongue moving against me until he opened his mouth over me again, and I felt it plunge inside me. The sounds I was making were unholy but I had no shame, I couldn’t feel anything other than need. I needed to scream, I needed to come, I needed him.
He brought a hand up around my thigh and ran his thumb over my folds, licking himself as he lapped at me, then swirled it over my clit as his tongue fucked me. Before I could even moan, two fingers from his other hand replaced his tongue inside me.
“Jake!”
His head tilted and he pressed his lips against my thigh, kissed it and grinned. “Yes?” Fingers everywhere, filling me and fucking me, circling the most sensitive part of me - I forgot what I wanted to say, if I had even wanted to. Instead I pulled his mouth back, he slid his thumb away and flicked his tongue against me.
“Yessss, yes just like that, please!” I let my eyes close and stars were already dancing behind my lids, I was close, so close, and I told him so. I moaned it and his fingers plunged deep and curled. I screamed it and he sucked my clit back into his mouth.
I came hard, nails dug into his scalp, bucking my hips against his face, screaming his name.
It was unreal. College guys had nothing, fucking nothing, on him.
Before my muscles had even relaxed, he lifted his head from between my thighs and moved up my body, his fingers still pumping slowly inside me as he kissed my hip, my stomach, my breast on his way up to my mouth. He tasted like me when my tongue touched his, and he eased his fingers from my body.
“Absolutely fucking stunning, breathtaking.”
His breath was taken? I still couldn’t breathe, my chest continued to heave as he left the bed, taking my panties down my legs with him, and I could barely lift my head to see what he was doing. My eyes closed and I felt the mattress dip with his weight as he returned and settled on his heels between my legs, still splayed open. I cracked an eyelid and found him watching me, wrapped condom held between his fingers.
Under his gaze, I shifted down until my head rested on the pillows, spreading my legs wider, pussy presented to him on a silver fucking platter.
This was happening. There was absolutely no way this was not happening. Not this time.
“Now, Jake.” Unrecognizable, my voice had a distinct sex kitten-like quality that I loved as soon as it hit my ears. He must have loved it too, because his dick twitched and he gripped it. I reached up and snatched the condom from his fingers, tore it open and started rolling it on while his eyes bugged out and his jaw fell slack.
“Jesus, not your first time, huh?” My hand replaced his around him and I stroked, he leaned over me and I guided the head to my center, moved it through the slick pool of arousal there. He paused, poised to enter me, and met my eyes.
“I’m pretty much out of firsts, Jake.”
His eyes closed, his hips rocked forward, and he pushed just past my opening, the tip not even fully inside me.
I tilted my own hips up, he slipped a fraction of an inch deeper. I whispered, and it was sexy, and seductive. “It could’ve been you.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, opened his eyes and we watched each other’s faces as he sunk deeper, slowly, to the hilt. “It should’ve been me.”
Stunned, speechless, we stayed like that. Unmoving, bodies connected, eyes locked. He broke first, dropping his lips to mine and rocking into me softly. A sound I’d never heard before, quieter than a moan, crept up his throat, trapped behind his lips as they caressed mine. My legs lifted, cradling him between my thighs and wrapping around him.
It was gentle, sweet. The exact opposite of how I knew it would’ve been, if I’d let him be my first, thinking he wasn’t.
I felt my cheeks warm, my eyes pool with tears. I blinked them away. This was everything I’d wanted and more. I knew I’d been an idiot to think otherwise. Especially when he pulled back and delivered a quick, deep thrust and there was no pain. Only pleasure bloomed inside me, hot and volatile.
“Again, more…”
An excellent listener, he repeated it. Again, again, and I met each thrust with my own. Our kiss turned frantic, sloppy, lips and tongues clashing and pushing, pulling and taking. The temperature in the room was rising with the heat of our skin, our bodies slipping against each other. He lifted his chest from mine, hands braced on the pillows on either side of my head, and the conditioned air on our damp skin made us both groan in ecstasy.
I damn near came again, almost commented on it but he dropped back down and shoved an arm between me and the mattress, rolled us both. We laughed as we landed, his hair strewn across the pillow and mine falling in his face. My laughter stuck in my throat when he grabbed onto my thighs and pulled, tucking my knees against his hips and forcing me to sit. I propped myself up with my hands on his chest and fell back into the rhythm, my hips rolling.
“Goddamn, you feel so good, look so good riding me.”
My head fell back as his words rippled through me, his fingertips digging into me, his hands moving my body over his. He brought one to my chest, squeezed me roughly, rolled my nipple with his fingers, pinched it. Hard.
“Yes!” He did the same to the other, my pussy clenched around him.
“You like when it hurts a little, don’t you?”
“I- I don’t know, I guess so- ohhh!” He wrapped a hand around each tit and sunk his fingertips into my flesh, then kneaded them both, ran the pads of his thumbs over the peaks.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re fucking perfect.”
Yeah, I lost my mind a little bit. My hips bucked wildly in his lap. Perfect? Me? My nails pressed into his skin, I dragged them down his chest, reveling in the sharp hiss sucked between his teeth, the way his own hips lifted from the bed and he fucked into me. Sharp, fast thrusts hitting me so deep I was screaming his name. He sat up and pulled my face to his, kissed me hard, bit down on my bottom lip, and then tipped me backwards.
My head was nearly hanging off the end of the bed, but really, who cares? My ankles locked behind his back and he was slamming his hips into the back of my thighs.
Fuck, was I gonna come? He had to be close. I lifted my head, now very much hanging off the bed, to ask him.
Beep. Click.
His hips stuttered and paused, we both whipped our heads to the door, which was fucking opening.
Josh appeared, his foot crossed the threshold and he was looking down at his phone.
“GET OUT!!” We yelled in unison. Josh’s head popped up, his eyes went huge, and then he laughed.
“Shit, sorry guys.” He started backing out into the hall, the door creaking closed. “About time,” We heard him chuckling to himself and the door clicked behind him.
Jake turned his face back to me and seemed to realize for the first time that I was barely on the mattress. An arm wrapped around my back and he shifted us until I could look him in the eyes.
“What the fuck…” I whispered up at him.
His smile was subtle and affectionate before it stretched to a full grin, and he huffed a laugh.
“There was no fucking way I was stopping.”
I matched his grin and lifted to pull a kiss from his lips. “Good.”
He tucked his face into my neck and began the roll of his body into mine again. I let my hands roam across his back as he kissed and nipped my skin and his thrusts picked up speed. The orgasm that had been teasing me before we were interrupted built again quickly, and Jake was panting in my ear.
But then… then. A whisper. Low and deep, but a whisper nonetheless.
My name, my real name, hit my ear and I gasped, right on the edge.
“Come for me. Please come for me.”
How could I say no?
It broke, crashed, consumed me. His name on my lips as I tightened, writhed, and shook for him.
He didn’t stop, didn’t slow, he chased after me and followed into the flames. My name burned into my flesh by his kisses, a guttural groan as he came inside me.
Easily the best orgasm I’d ever had. Easily.
Because he’s just a man, albeit an incredibly hot, multiple-orgasm-inducing man, he collapsed on top of me. I let him. I ran my hands over his sweat-dampened hair and the soft skin of his back and we both caught our breath. Then he started giggling.
I pinched his ass. “What’s so funny, Kiszka?”
His head popped up and he propped himself on an elbow, a wide grin splitting his face in half, gorgeous. “I can’t believe we waited so long to do that, that might’ve been the best sex I’ve ever had.”
We both laughed as I slapped his chest. “Might be?!”
“Okay okay, you’re right.” He looked at me dreamily, his eyes bouncing around my face. “It was the best.”
Because I’m a woman, albeit a mind-blowing sex goddess, I started overthinking. I couldn’t help it! You should’ve seen the way he was looking at me.
“Jake…” He lifted his eyebrows, I lifted a hand to his face, tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “What does this mean?”
Those eyebrows knitted together, a quick moment to think that over. Then he kissed me, soft and slow.
“I don’t know what it means. But I do know this hotel has free breakfast downstairs, so be up and ready by nine.” His smile stretched again, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oooh, do you think they have French toast? That’s Sam’s favorite.”
He attacked me, tickled me until I had tears in my eyes, kissed me until I was breathless, and fell asleep with his arms around me.
The truth is, I don’t remember the exact moment I fell utterly, completely in love with Jake Kiszka. Maybe you should ask him.
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Love Languages
Death x Reader Headcanons
A/N: I’m so tired and I need comfort and I’m craving physical affection right now which is weird since it’s my least favorite form of affection. So here are some Muerte x Reader love language headcanons.
1. Acts of Service
You don’t have to say anything. Death can smell fear, discomfort, and even illness. If something’s wrong, he’ll ask you what’s up and find a way to make you more comfortable.
Whenever he’s not away at work, he’ll help with chores, and keep your place tidy and clean.
Traveling around since the beginning of time means that Muerte has had many different meals. He’ll cook you food and leave some extra if he’s gone for a while. He’s also the type to bring home interesting foods he’s found from the different places he’s been to. You get to try a lot of new (and ancient) foods with him around.
Tired? Offers to carry you bridal style or on his back.
Cold? Need comfort? Literally anything at all? His poncho is on you immediately.
Also, he will murder a man for you. He is ridiculously protective of you and your life. He knows you can die and that he has the ability to protect you. If you are in harm’s way, then he will go to the ends of the world to save you.
2. Receiving Gifts
See above point about food.
Muerte is a bit like a crow. He brings you shiny things that he finds while he’s working
At some point, he gets you your own poncho. It has little skulls embroidered in it.
You really scratch your head trying to figure out what to give him. He’s been around for forever, what could Death possibly want?
You know that whistle of his? If you consider yourself a musical person, you compose a full version of it. If you don’t, you work alongside a friend to compose a full version of it.
Listen, I just think that Muerte would like to have the eerie little major key tune he whistles turned into a lovely song you two can dance to.
Muerte honestly really just appreciates any and all gifts you give him.
Yes, he’s been around for ages, but the gifts you give him are special because they were given to him by you.
That being said, flowers aren’t the best gift idea because they tend to die quickly around him.
It’s the thought that counts.
3. Quality Time
Unfortunately, Muerte is a very busy immortal. He’s got a very important job.
But that just means you two make the most of the time he has when he’s off.
Alternatively, you start traveling with him.
Either way, you two are big on storytelling. You tell him about your day, he tells you about his.
He has ranted about a certain gato on multiple occasions.
For your sake and for his piece of mind, he teaches you how to fight and defend yourself with a weapon of your choice. (If that weapon happens to be your fists, he won’t say no. But he does want you to at least have a dagger on you.)
This also makes sparring with you a lot of fun. (He can and will say things that he knows will make you flustered, giving him the ability to knock you to the ground, pin you down, and give you a little kiss).
4. Words of Affirmation
It’s been said before, but Muerte loves giving and receiving praise.
He pulls you close and whispers all the things he loves about you in your ear. You wriggle a bit and laugh.
He gives you pet names in different languages (he knows all of them), explaining what they mean to you before using them.
He will remind you constantly that you are a handsome and/or beautiful being whose existence makes his own existence brighter.
Muerte will joke that it’s impressive you were able to get him to fall for you considering that he’s Death straight up. But, you realize, it’s the other way around.
Being Death means that not a lot of people like him.
He’s learned to use his frightful reputation to his advantage, making his existence a little more entertaining when souls realize he’s not a bad guy.
But hearing you tell him all the things you love about him, whether it’s his laugh, his gentleness, and especially his eyes (which so many people are scared of), makes his tail wag.
(Listen, you can’t tell me that everyone being terrified and/or hating you doesn’t take a hit on your self-esteem).
5. Physical Touch
Nose boops, nose boops, nose boops-
You have booped the snoot many times. He wrinkles his nose a bit, but he loves it really. He also boops your nose.
Death is the king of surprise hugs and cuddles. Early in your relationship, you screamed a bit every time his cold arms wrapped around you. The cold embrace of Death is, in fact, really freaking cold. But your surprised yelps were hilarious to Muerte, so he kept doing it.
But this only started a war where you’d see who could scare the other the most.
This means surprise hugs from behind, finding tickle spots, and in Muerte’s case, lifting you up from your seat and planting a large kiss on your forehead.
Muerte loves scritches behind his ear, even though he’d never admit it.
He plops his head on top of yours or in your lap when he wants attention.
Going out and about, Muerte always has an arm wrapped around you or a hand in yours.
He can't sleep (immortal things), but he will lay in bed wrapped around you protectively. It's a comforting sort of cold pressure he puts on you.
#puss in boots#the last wish#puss in boots death#puss in boots muerte#death x reader#.writing#x reader
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25 Days until Tears of the Kingdom Release. Is it really? Haha the smaller the number gets the more I doubt reality. I've just been waiting for this game for so long that even with all the marketing and the trailer analysis it's hard to believe its actually happening.
Spoilers under the cut for the last batch of screenshot trailer analysis.
So this tear has the recall chicken symbol on it. I checked. Zelda also has the Master Sword with her. Either she's fixing the sword and that's something only she can do or Zelda is in the past so the sword isn't broken yet and she is leaving something there for Link.
Ganondorf, mummy version I'm assuming, spewing red malice stuff but much brighter red this time. I wonder if Malice is just Ganondorf's version of fuse. Link gets green glue and Ganondorf red. After this there is a shot where the red stuff hits the sky and starts summoning monsters. The trailer transitions it to make it look continuous but once we get into the game we'll most likely find that it's separate cut scenes or different parts of the same cut scene but not continuous. Honestly, I think this might be where Link and the Master Sword get attacked but I'm still not giving up on the possibility that the malice emerges from the Master Sword outwards as Fi looses control on Demise.
I'm pretty sure I mentioned the lack of lynels in the other analysis I did. Welp here they are with their massive antlers (oof on the damage those things will probably cause) and the sword looking thing sticking out of one of their heads. I wonder what fusing Lynel horns to shields, swords, or arrows will do. I think I'll fight some just for that.
What else do I have to say? It's the main man, Ganondorf. I can't wait to kick his ass again.
Never seen this enemy in any of the Zelda games I've played. However, I will look forward to this boss fight/mini boss fight and whatever skill or item we need to defeat it. Maybe ascend or some ice weapon? I heard that ascend works on certain enemies and I'm very curious about which ones. It'd be interesting if this enemy tries to swallow Link and Link just ascends through the roof of its mouth.
This is Hylia or some version of Zelda from the past (yeah I'm aware that Hylia is technically a version of Zelda but whatever.) I think she's very pretty, super amazing, and very strong considering she laser beams a bunch of Molduga with no sweat.
RIJU!!! Look at my girl double wielding swords (Can we do it too as Link? Nintendo?? I wanna duel wield.) Riju appears to have grown into her own and mastered her lightning powers without needing the Helm. I'm so proud of her and I can't wait to fight along side her.
I can't tell you how cool it is to see that Link will be working and fighting alongside other citizens of Hyrule. The resistance in Twilight Princess walked so that TOTK NPCS can run. At least that's my hope. Also neat looking sword Link.
Now this part of the trailer nearly gave me a heart attack. I was like no freaking way will the new champions literally fight besides Link and not just in a cut scene. How sick is this? Of course, I heard some people say co-op but I don't think that's what's happening. You see the blue glowy stuff on Sidon? Yeah it was on Tulin too. I think the new champions might be like summons, automated companions. I think Nintendo took the wolf link amiibo and the Yunobu follow quest and beefed it up. I'm very excited about it.
So Riju doesn't have a tear that we can see and they haven't shown Yunobu but Tulin and Sidon have different tears. I'm very curious about what these things do. I'm also amused that Sidon got blue and Tulin green considering the colors of Mipha's Grace and Revali's Gale. I'm not sure about the symbols on them since I don't think they correspond to any of the abilities icons unlike recall. Anyway, it's just another thing that can't be answered until the game is out.
Giant fire gleeok or three headed evil dragon or whatever it's called, it's a sick looking boss that I can't wait to fight. Also the weapon that Link is using looks so other worldly. It's got the shape of a wing and its probably ice related. I wonder what enemy Link got it from but it does remind me of Naydra so maybe it's a dragon part? Nintendo really popped off with the Fuse ability.
So Ganondorf is most likely what this mural figure represent but look at the Hylian (i think it's a hylian, could be a Zonai) beneath him. I think the figure with its hand raised represents either Link or the person who owned the ancient hand and sealed Ganondorf.
It's a bit hard to see but see these four warriors? I think they might represent the four champions since these guys are the only warrior figures in the middle of the horde of monsters. The warriors that aren't yet in the midst of monsters must represent the other NPCs, the citizens of Hyrule that are also fighting back. I think the mural is neat and I wonder where we might see it in the game.
Lastly, Zelda holding the Master Sword and saying "You must find me Link." The first time I watched the trailer I went "Zelda?? If Link has to find you then where the heck are you??" And that's where time travel to the past is looking like a more and more likely theory. The only other theory I have involves realms/alternate worlds since A Link Between worlds exists and so do the Twilight and Silent Realms. But again, I think we'll just have to wait and see what the game has in store.
Thank you for coming to the end of this analysis with me. I'm ecstatic to have my questions answered on May 12, 2023.
Edit: It has been brought to my attention that Riju does in fact have a visible tear and I even posted a picture where it is visible. Guess my brain was so focused on how badass she looked while duel wielding swords that I missed it. Welp that's three for three tears so I'm expecting Yunobu to have one.
#totk link#tears of the kingdom#loz#legend of zelda#loz totk#princess zelda#botw totk#loz botw2#botw2#totk#totk trailer analysis#loz link#picture
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(One of) the things about the end of Black Sails that's so great is it's really impossible to know whether Flint ended up with Thomas or if Silver killed him.
Like, the evidence that Flint ended up alive with Thomas is that we see it. And up to that point, we (the audience) have only ever seen things that have a basis in either reality or an emotional truth. Like, the show's conventions up to that point are that dream sequences or hallucinations are all very clearly framed as such. (i.e. In episode XXXVII, when Woods Rogers sees Eleanor's 'ghost' knitting in the corner, we know that it's either mystical or a manifestation of grief...but for sure it's not literal). Up to this point, when the show calls into question the truthfulness of a story beat, it very purposefully keeps the audience in the dark about what happened. We, the audience, either know when a character lies because we saw the truth with our own eyes...or we don't know what happened because we didn't see it and only have one character's version of events to go on. But we know when we know and when we don't know.
So when we see Flint and Thomas together that says to the audience "this is real."
And yet...
For all that I was talking about how the show's been clearly delineating dream/hallucination/afterlife from reality, up to this point...it's also true that the end montage with Thomas an Flint is put together in a very dreamy way. It's all slow motion; there's no dialogue; just string music and Silver's storytelling. It's got a bit of a washed-out look to it...like the light is just a bit brighter than it should be. So it's got just enough of a dream-like vibe to it that it could be meant to just be showing what Silver is imagining as he talks to Madi...or what Flint saw as he lay dying.
The show's also put in a lot of legwork showing us that Silver would do anything to keep Madi with him and away from harm. And we know that Flint (and by extension, the audience) think we know Silver...but really Silver's character's been keeping a lot close to the chest. So would Silver kill Flint to keep Madi out of harms way? Absolutely. Would Silver spin a story to Madi about Flint surviving in order to prevent her from leaving him? Absolutely. Would Silver rather avoid all of that and present Flint with the opportunity to live and be with Thomas? For sure.
Would Flint believe Silver when he told Flint that Thomas was alive...thus 'unmaking' Flint and letting James McGraw go live out his life on that plantation? Maybe? It's really a question of whether Flint truly has put his trust in Silver as much as it seems. It's a test of their relationship more than anything else.
Anyway, that's why half a decade after it aired, I still sometimes think about this ending...because you really can't know which way it went. And that's part of the point.
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An Unexpected Trip to the Past
Satan
I have no idea what's going on. One second, we were inside the House of Lamentation, and the next we're in some brightly lit forest. It's possible that the door I opened led us outside, but something about this forest seems too...bright. Like, brighter than anything in the human world.
I almost dismiss the idea as me simply overthinking everything when Simeon frowns and remarks that he recognizes where we are.
And then Beel starts walking towards us.
Only, it's not the Beel I know. For starters, this version of him has a goddamn halo circling the top of his head.
"Oh, not this again," MC groans, which raises even more questions. What do they mean by again? I mean, there's no possible way they've been here before, right? They weren't even alive when Beel and the others were angels.
"What are you doing here?" Beel the angel asks, looking rather stern. I suppose his reaction makes sense. We are intruders, after all.
"It's okay, Beelzebub," Simeon replies softly with a smile. "Don't worry. It's me." That seems to relieve Beel a little.
"Simeon, who are these two? Are they with you?" Simeon nods his head.
"They're acquaintances of mine, you see. They're angels, actually. Both of them." What in the world is he thinking?! MC might be able to get away with it, but there is no way in hell I'd make a convincing angel. I open my mouth to protest, but MC squeezes my hand and quietly instructs me to play along.
"We're talking about this later," I whisper. Simeon introduces us to angel Beel, and I thank my lucky stars that he remembered my human world name. I don't even want to imagine the alias he would have come up with if he didn't. It'd probably be something stupid, like Sully.
"So, Beelzebub, what's Lucifer up to?" Simeon asks.
"He's at the Celestial Palace in a meeting with Michael and all the other higher-ups." Beel pauses, narrowing his eyes at Simeon. "Shouldn't you be there, too? I thought all of the seraphim had to attend."
Simeon struggles to come up with a good answer to that question, making me anxious. He's never done well under pressure.
"He was busy rescuing us," MC pipes up.
"Rescuing you?" Beel repeats.
"Daniel and I fell into a pit someone dug as a trap, and we needed someone to help us get out. We sent out a message, and Simeon was the first to respond." Apparently, MC's story is plausible enough, for Beel simply nods his head and tells them that he's glad that we got out safely.
It intrigues me how they're able to come up with lies on the spot like that. Even Diavolo admitted that if he didn't have the ability to tell when people were lying to him, he would have totally believed MC's story of Lucifer trying to recreate Irish coffee with Devildom ingredients back when the two of us swapped bodies and I was saying a bunch of stupid shit in an attempt to embarrass my brother.
I've wondered from time to time what MC would be like as a demon. Not because I want them to lose their humanity or anything; I'm merely intrigued by the possibility. I feel like one of their powers would lie in speechcraft, specifically the ability to make someone believe whatever it was they're saying, even if it had no basis in any reality whatsoever. Perhaps their tongue would literally turn silver as they spoke. How many people would fall victim to it? I imagine quite a few, since MC appears trustworthy. Unlike, say, Mammon or Asmo, who people can tell are trying to sell them something from a mile away.
We're incredibly lucky that we have MC on our side, because if we had to fight them...
"Yo, Beel!" Great. Mammon's joined us. "What're you doing hangin' out here? And who are they?"
"Looks like two real cuties!" And Asmo, too. "So, tell me: what are your names, hm?" His nearly baby-like voice is making my skin crawl. It always does. I may not get along with him sometimes, but at least the Asmo that I know can modulate his voice to sound like a reasonable adult. This version of him, on the other hand, appears to only have one setting.
"Are you friends of Simeon's?" Man, where is everyone coming from? I feel like Levi literally popped out of thin air.
Simeon introduces us to the other angel brothers, and Asmo takes the opportunity to try to flirt with me. In that godawful baby voice. I feel like my glare towards him is justified.
"Beelzebub, you mentioned you were looking for Belphegor, right?" Simeon asks. I must have missed that part of the conversation. "I have an idea where he might be. MC and I will go find him for you. In the meantime, look after Daniel for me, would you?"
That sneaky little angel. Using the opportunity to be alone with MC is one thing, and for the most part I let that sort of thing slide. But Simeon has always lamented the fact that I never got to experience life in the Celestial realm as my own individual, since I was stuck in Lucifer's head until the fall. I keep telling him that I don't really have a desire to know that kind of information, but he doesn't listen. Or care, it seems.
I will get him back for this.
#obey me shall we date#obey me satan#obey me mc#obey me simeon#obey me beel#obey me beelzebub#obey me mammon#obey me asmo#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me levi
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My question is: let's imagine that Nightmare had a childhood friend, his one and only childhood friend, and that she was a little girl who liked to fight to protect him and who literally had scars because of that because she literally fought every day to defend him, let's imagine that she survived the "incident", After the corruption of Nightmare how would he be with her? Would he be distant because he doesn't want to remember his past and the fact that he needed someone to defend himself, would he be tsundere with her or would he have a soft spot? Because I mean, his brother did not protect Nightmare because he was not aware of the others who harassed him, but she was the only one who had protected him, in part in any case. sooo.. would he be able to hurt her as much as he would be able to hurt Dream? After all, it's not as if she had protected Nightmare from absolutely everything, because as you said, it's not the only reason why Nightmare became corrupt and there were many others who added up.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ (i love that enoji-)
I really love your version of Dreamtale! Joku doesn't give any more news so I have trouble orienting myself with Dreamtale’s story, but you show a whole new vision of things with Soulsborne! The philosophy you gave to Nightmare is much more complex than that of the original but I really hope that Joku will develop Dreamtale in the future! And we're counting on you for Soulsborne and his development 🫵🏼
thank you for such kind words omg
this version of dreamtale literally came to mind when me and @neotxnic were reading the original dreamtale comic after we had a session of elden ring - it was also around the time i was delving deep into the dark souls trilogy lore.
i wanted to add more depth and tone to the world of dreamtale and fromsoft games have really good story telling and lore so i wanted that to reflect on our revision of the story.
note that i'm not trying to compete with joku and the original dreamtale. i think the original is good as is and very fun + heartfelt to read.
on anotherrrr note - this will be a really long response to the initial question so buckle up because i will lore dump.
For this specific scenario, I won't make this character's insertion into the lore canon yet - I actually want you lot to share your opinions on the addition of Nightmare having a childhood friend.
-
Nightmare and Dream were both born from the roots of Motus Arbor (the Tree of Feelings, the very being of Nim or what's left of her). The two of them are task to guard the tree - Dream guarding the negative apples and Nightmare guarding the positive ones.
Dream sought out to the people, he believes that through guarding the tree, he also has to guard the feelings of others. Thus, he often travels around the kingdom where he does his best to help his people have a brighter day.
Meanwhile, Nightmare keeps to himself and guards the tree while Dream focuses on their people to keep their emotions stable. He usually sits by the bed of motus arbor and reads books under its huge shade.
Because of Nightmare guarding the positive apples and the stereotype people have formed of him being the guardian of negativity (despite Dream's attempts to let people know that Nightmare isn't a bad person), many other kids would go behind Dream's back to harass Nightmare and accuse him of taking advantage of the positive apples.
This happens often but Nightmare never paid mind to these claims or mistreatment. Because of his pessimism being influenced by the positive apples that he guards, he's more of a realist (pessimism-leaning) - and so he doesn't see much value in the bullying.
However, a young girl around his age would stand up against the bullies, speaking up about their prejudice and unfair treatment. She called them out about how their judgement held no merit because they didn't know Nightmare personally, what right did they have to come to such conclusions about a person?
As the kids went away, Nightmare told her that there was no need for her to stand up for him since he wasn't affected by the mistreatment. He was perfectly fine simply ignoring the flock. She shook her head at his statement,
She told him her belief that passiveness won't progress society to a better environment. If we simply ignore the bad, does that make us good? Does that stop the evil? Does that stop the dishonesty? How will a wrong become a right if nothing is done for it to be so?
This philosophy was quickly dismissed by Nightmare; "Fighting fire with fire never bears any good fruit."
Despite their opposing ideals, this girl would pursue a friendship with the dark prince. She was true to herself despite how different their worldviews are but somehow, some of their morals were seen to overlap - such as their respect for intellect and honesty. The two both found enjoyment in books and being less social. It was a blissful friendship where they didn't feel the need to be someone else and the other was perfectly fine with it.
However, the conflict between Dream and Nightmare happened. Nightmare saw that Dream was being mistreated by the other kids, that they were abusing his kindness - and he hid his feelings from his very own brother, Nightmare. The guardian of negativity slowly realized that Dream's ignorance and selflessness - whilst spreading happiness… it was happiness given the wrong way. It was a clear imbalance.
And for the first time, he'd heed his friend's words: something had to be done.
-
and as for how nightmare would treat this friend of his in the present time? well, he holds no attachments. he had already stripped himself for any positive feelings towards anyone - including the very friend that pioneered his current ideals. however, deep down, he respects her integrity - a thought lingers within him that she'd understand his plans if one day she were to find out. however, if he finds reason to, he'll kill her with his own hands.
#lore dump#way too long waaay too long#long post#agdt#ag dreamtale#ardent gospel#wyllaztopia rambles#dreamtale au#nightmare sans#dream sans#ask
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