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#it was also a really good practice for shadows and lighting
thebiggesttree · 26 days
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ENENRA TOMAS!!!
(My version of it)
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talentforlying · 3 months
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father grimaldi: forgive me, lord, for i have sinned. constantine: — understatement of the bloody century, that is. father grimaldi: the chapel is closed to the public! who are you? how did you get in here . . .? constantine: did you know vatican city has the highest per-capita crime rate of any nation state in the world? i'd have thought a touch of breaking and entering's pretty much par for the course around here.
so #1, an undeniable slay.
#2, how long do we think he was sitting in the confessional booth waiting for the guy to wake up from ellie's fake vision quest. like an hour? checking his light, practicing his Big Reveal Pose TM? he probably brought a book with him and just shoved it underneath the seat cushion when it was time to show off.
#3, knowing how intensely he studied & continues to study in order to teach himself magic at such an absurdly advanced level without any teachers to formally guide him? and how that level of dedication would absolutely carry over into researching a mark / making sure he had every corner of a confidence scheme nailed down pat? i like to imagine that the day before this meeting was spent with his severely under-caffeinated ass parked at a public library computer, squinting at articles for 'most important things to know about vatican city before you travel' or 'top 10 little-known facts about vatican city' and using the back of his boarding pass to take notes on what would be the best throwaway line to blow off all the usual questions with.
also, he probably woke up still in his travel clothes less than two hours before this scene and had to hustle to get suited up in time for his Dramatic Apparition. the demon blood was boiling so bad in that chapel that it was giving him a killer migraine. he didn't get breakfast so his stomach was growling the ENTIRE time. but all that meant was he had plenty of room to eat UP the runway and that's EXACTLY what the fuck he did.i'm
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#always torn in half between 'john is a freaky little weirdo who just Knows Things and Picks Up Vibes and it usually works for him'#and 'john is the most Normal Dude in the whole london occult scene he just works w/ magic like a grad student prepping for finals week'#and you know what? the answer is always 'Both. Both is good.'#also on the one hand i'm truly obsessed with the idea of john just?? Always having a bunch of weird trivia available w/ his eidetic memory#like he read about the apostolic palace once in a book when he was with the peace convoy and his brain latched onto it forever#and it just Happens to become convenient later on and this happens VERY often and no one ever really knows how he does it#but there is a real real charm in considering that he's still Just A Guy beneath all the layers of false confidence and mysticism#still someone who had to work to get to where he is now and who will always have to work to Maintain as well#i like the mental image of him pacing around his temporary digs with index cards and drilling all the necessary details for the scam#or him and ellie getting blasted the night before and dramatically playing out their Big Final Confrontation to iron out all the beats#you just Know they were laughing til they cried workshopping shit like 'MY OLD ADVERSARY! WE MEET AGAIN!' and 'DO YOUR WORST HELLSPAWN!'#still trying to keep straight faces the day of the fake fight while drastically improvising to try and throw each other off their game#idk!!! i always enjoy the Strange and Off-Putting things about him but all of the Really Really Human stuff is also just. so so precious#we always get to see The Myth The Legend as shaped by the errors of The Man. but especially in later years actually SEEING The Man gets rar#all this to say that for every perfectly executed and properly horrifying loom out of the shadows with a glimmer of his freaky glowing eyes#there is always at LEAST half an hour or more practicing angles + expressions + mood lighting in the mirror going on behind the scenes#and that is very very special to me!!!!#( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.#( visage. ) AND I'M A BASTARD.#sched.
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lustspren · 3 months
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D.A | Con te partirò ft Hanni
length: 12.8k words✦
Hanni & Male Reader. 
Diamond Eyes AU.
genres: sub! Hanni, blowjob, oral sex, hard sex, breeding, daddy kink, creampie, fluffy, anal, car sex, love making ✧ 
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Did you need to rent a Ferrari? Absolutely not. Would it be worth it? Absolutely yes.
So many months of hard work streaming 8 hours a day had to somehow be worth it. You could afford it, and you were going to do it. The only bad thing about that decision was the time it took you to choose a car at the dealership. About half an hour wandering between cars until your capricious ass decided to choose the most expensive but also the most practical. A Ferrari Purosangue, the brand's newest, expensive and most innovative model. Choosing it in red would have been the most normal thing, but you chose it in all black, even the interior.
With the car already chosen, you received instructions regarding its functions and handling, upon completing it and having all the paperwork already done, you went directly to drive through the streets of Milano, your hometown. You linked your Spotify account to the car stereos through the digital panel behind the steering wheel and blasted Kanye West's Carnival at the highest possible volume without bursting your eardrums, which helped make you feel like a god as you drove past the Palazzo Reale di Milano.
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After about 20 minutes you had already made lap after lap through the city center, just enjoying the beautiful roar of the twelve-cylinder engine and your music. But just as you turned the corner after a traffic light, you received a message from the real reason you had flown to Italy from Korea in the first place.
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She then sent you a full body photo of herself. You had to alternate looking between the road and your phone screen. She looked so stupidly beautiful that she made you question all your past decisions to know if you really deserved her. You came to the conclusion that you were simply an overly lucky bastard. To respond to her you had to wait until another traffic light.
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After finishing talking to Hanni, you put the phone between your legs and took a new street in search of something to eat. Your stomach was growling; since you landed in Milano that morning you hadn't had the chance to even have a full meal, you had only been eating sweets that you brought with you from Korea. You were crazy to get your teeth into something, and since you were in Italy, you couldn't find a better option than going to your favorite Pizzeria in the entire city: la Zia Esterina Sorbillo on Via Agnello.
After having eaten a delicious salami and cotto pizza, you just waited in the car, parked in a square covered by the shadow of a building to your right, which you didn't mind too much considering everything the car offered in terms of comfort. It had already been an hour since Hanni had entered the event, but it wasn't until two hours later when you received the message you were waiting for.
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With the green light already granted, you made the respective call before you forgot—again—, you pressed the touch button on the steering wheel to start the engine and headed to the Fonderia Carlo Macchi, the place where the Gucci event was taking place. It would be approximately 15 minutes of travel from where you were, you would have to make a good selection of music if you wanted to enjoy the journey. You started with Lord Pretty Flacko Jodye 2 by ASAP Rocky, Who Dat Boy by Tyler the Creator, 5% TINT by Travis Scott and Justify My Thug by JAY-Z.
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When you entered the Via Enrico Cosenz you had to considerably reduce the volume of the last seconds of the last song. The entire street was filled with people and camera flashes, as well as luxury cars and police guarding the perimeter around the warehouse. As soon as you approached, an officer blocked your path with a wave of his hand, you rolled down the window and he stood next to you.
"Buon pomeriggio, signore. Dove sei diretto?" he asked. You knew he did it routinely and that he kept doing it considering there were more cars behind you.
"Sono qui per ritirare uno degli ambasciatori dell'evento," you responded, one hand on the steering wheel.
"Nome?"
"Hanni Pham. Se hai bisogno di un'autorizzazione, posso ottenerla per te."
"Sì, grazie," you called Hanni's manager and handed the phone to the officer, seconds later, he returned it to you, "Avanti, buon pomeriggio."
"Grazie mille! Anche per voi," you smiled at the officer, rolled up the window again and drove until you parked next to the curb.
Parked there, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you were out. While you were waiting, you watched as the camera flashes took over the entire street. The photographers and the crowd of people were in constant movement, celebrity after celebrity being photographed as they entered their respective cars; you should have expected it, but you were still shocked to see Salma Hayek so close while she was leaving the event. You also saw Kirsten Dunst, and as a lover of Sam Raimi's Spider Man movies you couldn't help but fanboy a little.
From one moment to the next you noticed how the crowd of people began to concentrate much more towards the gate that led to the warehouse; You noticed that the flashes also multiplied. You sharpened your eyes to be able to distinguish any notable figure among the mass of photographers moving outside, until you finally saw her. Much more radiant and charming than could be seen in any photograph.
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As always she saw everyone with a warm smile and she greeted all of her fans with contagious joy; she came over to sign a few autographs here and there, with camera flashes and dozens of phones pointed directly at her. You couldn't take your eyes off her for a single second; her walk was mesmerizing, from how her hips swayed from side to side to how she exuded pure class and elegance. She was fine as fuck, and she knew it perfectly.
A little more than a minute passed when the crowd finally dispersed and she could have a clear view of the road. It was then that she saw your car and had to put her hand over her mouth to cover her shock, but no matter how much she tried to hide it, you could see it in her eyes, and you were more than happy to surprise her.
She approached the passenger door, opened it, and greeted a few more fans before entering the car, where no one could see what was happening inside thanks to the tinted windows, not even from the front.
"Oh my god hiiii!" she squealed in pure happiness, lunging at you for a tight hug.
"Hello, Phampy," you smiled, reciprocating the hug and then separating, putting your hands on the wheel. You drove onto the road again, "How was everything?"
"Everything was wonderful! The organization and treatment were incredible, and I met many nice people!"
Every word she said was like music to your ears; she had one of the most beautiful Australian accents you had ever heard, and it was one of the reasons she drove you crazy.
You reached the roundabout and made a U-turn to return along the street you had arrived on.
"I also had to take a lot of photos and make videos, but it was all very nice. And my goodness! What is this car?" She laughed in amazement, examining her surroundings.
She ran her hand across the leather dashboards and touched the carbon fiber of the roof. You noticed her wanting to touch things on the touch screen she had right in front of her but she restrained herself.
"I couldn't come pick you up in a piece of tin, could I?" you saw her out of the corner of your eye, "Hanni Pham only deserves the best of the best."
"Oh yeah? That's why I have you too, right?"
She leaned towards you and grabbed you by your face to plant her lips on your cheek. You were sure that her lipstick must have been left marked on your skin.
Just when you were going to talk to her you received a call from her manager. You left one hand on the wheel and answered as you rounded the curve at the Piazza Giovani Bausan roundabout. You put the call on speaker so Hanni could hear too.
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"Yeah?" you asked.
"You better take her directly to the hotel, she still has a pending appointment tonight," the manager told you from the other end of the line, the severity in her voice telling you that it was best to obey.
"You say it as if I were going to take her to Greece. Well, I don't lack the desire to do so."
"Don't even dream of it. Just take her to the hotel, please. I'll send you the location."
"Yeah yeah, chill. You know you can trust me."
"I only tolerate you because Hanni likes you. Bye," she finally hung up.
Hanni laughed at that. Seconds later you received the location of the hotel. It was the Palazzo Parigi Hotel, possibly one of the most exclusive in Milano. You weren't surprised.
"How lovely," you joked, putting the phone back in your pocket.
"I would tell you that she is just joking, but you do make her life a little miserable."
"She'll have to get used to me. Straight to the hotel then?"
"Uhm, we don't have a choice, I guess..." she said, and then she thought for a few seconds looking out the window, then looked at you again, "Daddy... Do you think this outfit suits my body?"
You knew her and that tone well enough to know where she was going with that question.
"Well, of course. That skirt highlights your hips very well... and that top makes your tits look very pretty."
You turned right and entered Via Valtellina, driving straight towards the city center. Low by SZA started playing on your Spotify, you raised the volume a little with the button on the side of the steering wheel. Hanni became thoughtful again, she looked at the road for a few seconds and then at you.
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"And... Do you think it also makes me look more fuckable?"
"Where are you going with that question, Phampy?"
She remained silent. She waited until you stopped at a traffic light so you could see her, then she slowly hiked her skirt up until it was all wrinkled at the top. Her perfect, pale pair of fleshy thighs were exposed to you, as well as her red lace panties, which you noticed were also Gucci. You were automatically turned on, but the light turned green and you had to turn your eyes to the road.
"I don’t know… you tell me."
Her hand went to your crotch, slowly squeezing and massaging the bulge in your pants. You noticed her gaze fixed on you, but you couldn't turn around in any way unless you wanted to cause an accident.
"Fuck Hanni..." you muttered, pursing your lips.
"Mmm..." she let out a subtle moan, "You're already hard daddy."
She pulled up the bottom hem of your sweater, unbuttoned your jeans and lowered your zipper to reach into your boxers and pull out your cock, which was already completely hard.
“Baby, we are in th-” you tried to protest.
"Hush. Eyes on the road."
She had seen you turn up the volume on the stereo a few minutes ago, and she used the visual information she remembered to reach her free hand over to the wheel and turn up the volume as well. A few seconds passed and the song changed to The Color Violet by Tony Lanez. You had no choice but to continue driving through the streets of downtown Milano, taking as many roads as possible to divert you from the original destination while she slowly jerked you off.
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Seconds passed. Hanni kept moving her hand up and down your cock, which was throbbing between her fingers. Her movements were slow and perfect, the months of experience you had together allowed her to know how you liked to be touched. You felt a drop of precum leak from your tip; she noticed this, and took a moment to kick off her heels, climb on her knees onto the seat and bend over towards you, leaving her butt raised toward the passenger window and her face right above your cock. Then, grabbing it by the base she took it into her mouth, her glossy lips wrapping around your shaft.
Luckily for you, just at that moment you stopped at a traffic light, which allowed you to look to the right and see Hanni's thick ass raised and adorned by the g-string she was wearing, both buttocks on full display so you could grope them and squeeze them. All the while, she moved her head up and down slowly, taking in a little more than half of your cock with each pump in a sensual, slippery blowjob.
A few seconds passed and the traffic light turned green. You were forced to look forward again, but that didn't stop you from grabbing Hanni's panties and pushing them to the side to rub your fingers on both her plump pussy and her butthole. She responded with a deep moan around your shaft. You gave one of her ass cheeks a dry spank before taking your middle and ring fingers to your mouth to fill them with saliva and take them inside her pussy. Hanni moaned louder around your cock again and increased the pace of the blowjob, taking you out of her mouth at times to fill your shaft with kisses and licks.
The song changed, now playing Bermuda Triangle by Zico, Crush and Dean, the bass from the stereos making the seats vibrate. You took your fingers deep into Hanni's pussy, and there you began pumping rapidly in and out. She matched the pace of your wrist and moved her neck accordingly, now she was giving you a sloppy, frantic blowjob.
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“Fuck,” she pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp intake of breath.
She jerked you off quickly. Your cock now completely soaked with her thick, hot saliva. When she raised her head you noticed that a string of saliva was hanging from her lower lip.
“I need you to fuck me right now daddy, I can't hold it,” she begged, placing kisses on your jaw and chin.
"I'll look for an alley to stop in."
"No," she quickly said, "You just keep driving and leave it to me."
She sat back down in her seat and raised her hips to pull her panties down her legs. When she took them off, she took them in one hand and wrapped them around the base of your cock, a detail that was enough to make you gasp. Then she maneuvered herself over to your seat and climbed on top of you, planting her feet on either side of the seat and taking advantage of her short stature so she could completely impale herself on your cock.
"Oh my god Hanni," you moaned, slowing the car down on pure instinct as she slowly went up and down on your cock.
"I really needed to feel your cock filling me again daddy... mmmh," she moaned into your neck, wrapping her arms around  and clinging to it.
You thanked God that the suspension of that car was that good, it made driving in that state much easier. Still, you had to do an incredible concentration job to focus on the road with Hanni's heavenly moans in your ear distracting you.
Hanni subtly stroked the hair at the nape of your neck, tangling her fingers between your strands and giving them subtle tugs as she filled the entire side of your face with wet kisses. She started bouncing on your cock. Frantic and strong jumps that, no matter how difficult it seemed, could be heard even with the music playing at full volume in there. Ironically and completely randomly, at that moment Be Quiet and Drive by Deftones started playing.
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"I fucking missed you so much daddy... oh god!" She moaned in your ear, clinging even tighter to your neck.
There came a time when pleasure inevitably made you drive worse. You made strange gear changes, and also strange steering wheel movements. Anyone who saw the car from the outside would be alarmed thinking you were having a seizure or some weird shit, but the reality was you just had a Gucci ambassador jumping like crazy on your dick.
"You missed daddy huh? Then fucking cum on that cock," you growled, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. You entered la Corso Sempione, a wide and uncrowded street at that time. Perfect to let yourself go a little.
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"Yes daddy, yes! I'll cum for you like a good girl!" she whimpered, pressing more kisses to your neck.
You roared the engine a couple of times and accelerated up the street, that made Hanni cling harder to your shoulders and crash into your pelvis much harder—apparently the speed sensation managed to give her some kind of stimulus. If she kept giving you those jumps she would probably take your breath away for a few seconds, but it didn't take long for her to explode in a tide of spasms and screams. She slumped down, lowering her knees and squeezing her thighs on either side of your hips. She ground back and forth as she rode out her orgasm, and then began to move sensually up and down.
"Fuck, I can't take it anymore," you gasped, "The hotel will have to wait a little longer."
You took a curve to the right and hit the accelerator straight ahead, desperately looking for an alley in which to stop. It was not an easy task, Milano lacked this type of space since it was full of short buildings stuck side by side, but finally you found the perfect place: the back alley of an old warehouse, to the right of which was the left fence of el Cimitero Monumentale—you were outside of it, so you weren't desecrating anything. There were a couple of cars there, but at that time no one would be out since it was still working hours. You went to the end of it, stopping when a small gate cut off the path.
You turned off the engine and could finally focus on her. You wrapped both of your arms around her perfect body and pressed her against your torso to kiss her. She moaned against your lips and cupped her hands on either side of your face to get deeper into the kiss; your tongues met and swirled around each other again and again. You moved your hands to her ass and then gave one of her butt cheeks a harder spank. She squealed and bit your bottom lip.
"Fuck me hard, daddy," she begged in a sensual, pleasure-laden voice, "Fuck me and give me all your load."
"I wouldn't want to stain that outfit in any way..." you peppered her chin and neck with kisses.
"Then make sure no drop goes to waste... put it all inside me."
"Are you sure?"
"I've been taking contraceptives for months, there won't be any problems..."
"Let's go outside then."
You opened the car door and made her get off your cock so she could get off first. You noticed the nervousness in her eyes as she looked toward the beginning of the alley, so you found it necessary to comfort her.
"Honey, I know this city like the back of my hand, no one will come here," you said, getting out of the car as well.
Those simple words seemed to make her nervousness disappear, as she immediately lunged at you with both arms around your neck and kissed you again. You wrapped your arms around her naked waist and lifted her into the air; she wrapped her legs around your torso and you took a few steps forward, positioning yourself on the side of the hood of the car and sitting her on the edge of it.
She let go of your torso and spread her legs wide, leaning back and leaning on her forearms to give you a look that you always interpreted as 'destroy me'. You pulled your pants and boxers down to your ankles, and with her panties still wrapped around the base of your cock, you sank back into her wet, warm pussy.
Hanni let out a loud moan that you silenced halfway by putting a hand over her mouth—no one would be out at that time, but you still had to be careful. She let her head hang back, and you grabbed her legs by the back of her knees to start moving your hips back and forth. You made sure she received every inch of throbbing cock with every thrust, jiggling the flesh of her thighs and her buttocks.
She was an obedient girl, so just one time of covering her mouth was enough for her to silence her moans on her own. She did it in several ways, but the most common was to put an arm around her head and press her mouth against the inside of her elbow. You thrust fast and hard, letting out grunts of pleasure as you felt the quivering flesh of her thighs between your fingers.
Hanni's eyes rolled back as you heard her let out loud squeals of pleasure. Out of the corner of your eye you saw how her toes curled. You brought her legs together and then pressed them towards her body, hammering her pussy so hard it echoed throughout the alley. You tried your best to keep your mouth shut as well, but her pussy felt so good and so wet that you couldn't help but let moans escape from your mouth.
She couldn't scream it for obvious reasons, but if she could she would have screamed at you that she was going to cum around your cock again. It wasn't necessary, you could tell by how her eyes glazed over and then she laid her back flat on the car hood. Seconds later she exploded once again, and she had to add her other arm to make sure that her intense screams of pleasure did not escape in any way.
Her pussy clenched around your cock and suffocated it, a sensation that was deadly to you and your senses. You spread her legs and now held on to her waist—which was possibly one of your favorite parts of her body— to fuck her with all your might and enter the final stretch.
Her body shook back and forth violently. She raised herself up on her elbows again and looked at you with those deep, lustful eyes again. You grabbed her by the gold necklace she was wearing and pulled her towards you to grab her neck with both hands. You pressed down with your fingers and cut off her breathing. It only took a few more thrusts for you to explode inside her.
The pleasure unconsciously made you press harder on her neck. You grunted giving her slow but aggressive thrusts, shooting stream after stream of cum into her silky pussy. She grabbed your wrists and gave one of them several pats that brought you out of your trance. You let go of her neck, noticing that you were squeezing too hard.
"Fuck... I'm sorry baby..." you gasped, still pumping until you finished draining inside her.
"You gave me the fuck I just needed today… don't apologize daddy," she managed to smile at you, even with heavy breathing.
"And what would have happened if I wasn't here? Would you have fucked some other Italian guy?" you raised an eyebrow.
"A few minutes ago I begged you to fill me to the core with your cum...," she leaned forward to give you a small kiss, "And here you are, balls deep inside me after shooting a thick, hot load straight into my womb. That makes me completely yours."
"Completely mine huh? I love the way that sounds coming out of your mouth," you cupped her face with your hands and gave her multiple short kisses on the lips.
"Yeah, and if that wasn't enough, you fucked me in a Gucci outfit, on top of a Ferrari, and in Milan. So consider yourself the luckiest guy in the world," she patted your chest a couple of times.
"I'm the luckiest guy in the world since I kissed you for the first time, Phampy," you continued to shower her face with kisses as she giggled.
"Damn, what a rizz huh?" she joked.
"Shut up dude," you laughed back.
"Hey, how much did this thing cost you? I feel like if I dent it I'll get a million dollar lawsuit."
"Two thousand euros a day, and if I want to buy it it's four hundred thousand euros. I’ll save money for it."
"Yep, I better get out of here asap," she nodded and gently pushed you back.
Your cock came out of her pussy, from which not a single drop of your cum came out. You took her into your arms and helped her off the hood. Once on the floor you removed her panties from around your cock and held them out to her.
"Nah, keep them as a souvenir," she gave you a kiss on the cheek, pulled down her skirt as if nothing had happened and got back into the car.
"Well damn, sure thing," you nodded, watching as she climbed into the passenger seat.
You pulled up your boxers and pants and got into the car again. You put Hanni's panties in the storage compartment between seats, earning a laugh from her. You left the alley, and after making sure there were no snitches around, you headed towards the hotel. After about 10 minutes you were already around the corner.
"Hey, there won't be any fans here now right?" you asked, the car stopped before turning.
"I'm sure not. But there will be later," she leaned to the right in the seat to try to make sure there was no one, "I think only my bodyguard will be there."
"I hope you're right."
Just as she said, the street in front of the hotel was completely clear. Only her bodyguard, who you recognized instantly, was there waiting patiently. When he saw you approaching with the car he approached the sidewalk, but first you made a small U-turn so that Hanni's door faced it.
"See you inside daddy," she gave you a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. The bodyguard closed the door back, and then escorted her inside.
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You parked the car diagonally across the entrance, in an area marked out just for that purpose. You turned off the engine, grabbed your things and got out. You walked around the car and went to the trunk to get your backpack out. With nothing else to do out there, you crossed the street to enter the hotel lobby, which alone looked like a beautiful and elegant royal palace, made almost entirely of perfectly polished marble. Hanni wasn't there, you assumed she had gone straight to her room.
After having gone through a small security check by one of the workers, you approached the reception and began the entire procedure to get a room. Using Hanni's room never crossed your mind, it was a controlled environment that Gucci had given her and that her manager probably also used, so you were never going to have privacy. You had to get a deluxe room, which wasn't cheap at all and gave you another little pain in your wallet.
Once everything was done, you were given the key to your room. You took the elevator and went directly to your floor to look for your door. Inside the room you were greeted by a short hallway, with a small counter on the left where was a small plate with cookies and biscuits, an espresso coffee maker and a bottle of San Benedetto sparkling water. To the right was an electric door that led to the bathroom, which had a double sink and a large mirror, in front of which were first the shower cubicle and then the bathtub.
Past that hallway was finally the bedroom. The king size bed was to your right, with two nightstands on either side and a wide stool at the bottom edge. In front you had the large window, whose light was blocked by white curtains that could be folded even more to cover the window completely. To the left was a glass table with two chairs on each side and a pot with beautiful white orchids on top of it. Finally, next to you as you exit the hallway, a smaller circular table with a tray full of fresh fruits, plates with napkins and cutlery, two covered drinking glasses and a note from the hotel staff giving anyone who entered the room a welcome.
The first thing you did was drop your backpack on the bed and lie face up on it to close your eyes for a moment. After your small minute of rest, you took out your phone and told Hanni that you could come now. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the knock on your door. You got up and hurried to open it.
"Damn, you're fast aren't you?" you asked with an amused expression.
"Being away from you hurts my little chicken heart, don't you understand?" She stood in front of you to give you a kiss. She then walked in front of you towards the bedroom.
"You got a scolding from her, didn't you?" you sat on the stool in front of the bed to look at her.
"A small one, yeah," she sighed, "But I honestly don't care, I feel exhausted."
Having said that, she began to undress, first taking off her heels, then her skirt, her top, and finally her necklace, which she left on the table next to the orchids. The only thing she needed to take off was her black bra, and once she did she dove face down onto the bed, her feet dangling next to you.
"Go take a shower then, sweetheart," you said, climbing into bed with her, only to lie down with your face right against her ass.
You made yourself comfortable there, hugging her hips as if her buttocks were your pillow—they weren't too far from that, they were soft like cotton.
"Mmm only if you come with me," she giggled, subtly shaking her butt under your cheek.
"I should be ashamed of how easily controlled I am by this piece of meat, but it's okay, come on."
You gave her a kiss on the buttock and stood up to go directly to the bathroom. She came in behind you, and helped you undress between adorable little kisses on your lips and chin. Once you were both naked, she tied her hair in a high bun, and you entered the shower cubicle, whose space was not too big and forced you to be slightly close together the entire time—it didn't bother you at all.
You and she took a completely normal bath without lewdness. It was a purely romantic and fun experience for the two of you, where kisses and caresses were not lacking. It was the perfect example that many times intimacy was not just about sex, and you enjoyed those moments as much as the sexual ones, they made you feel that there really was something there and that not everything revolved around carnal pleasures.
Once bathed and dried you went back to the bedroom. Hanni took off the towel, untied her hair, and threw herself back onto the bed.
"Your manager said you still had a pending appointment tonight, how much time do we have right now?" you asked, taking off the towel to continue drying your hair.
"Mmm… we have three hours, then I'll be there for about two more, and after that I'll be completely yours," she told you as she crawled under the covers and settled herself towards the center of the bed.
"Aight," you nodded, leaving the towel on the floor to go turn on the air conditioning, "Anything in particular you want to do?"
"I want you to take me out to eat and drink, can you?" She asked you, covered up to her neck with the blanket.
She looked so adorable and cute that you couldn't help but grab your phone to take a photo of her.
"Hey!" she laughed, giving you the perfect smile you needed for the shot.
"Of course I can, baby," you nodded, "I know the perfect place, in fact."
"I almost forgot that you were born here. Let's see, would you say something to me in Italian?"
"Tesoro, ho bisogno di dormire perché sono seriamente esausto," you told her, going to close the curtains. The room was now left in subtle darkness.
"That was so fucking sexy, oh my god," she breathed in, surprised, "But what did you say, I know tesoro is a cute thing."
The way she said that word made you smile.
"I said I'm exhausted and I need to sleep, honey," you climbed onto the bed and got under the blankets with her.
"Well, that's timely, because so am I," she sighed, turning her back on you so you could hug her from behind.
She raised her head, and you put your arm under her so she was resting on it. Then she pressed her back and her ass against you, and you wrapped your free arm around her in a warm hug that felt like lounging at a campfire in a Dark Souls game. You buried your face between her shoulder and the back of her neck, breathing in the delicious red fruit aroma of her skin.
"Hey, how do you say I love you in Italian?" she asked in a small, soothing voice.
"Ti amo," you responded with your eyes closed.
"Then ti amo, honey… uh, how do you say a lot?"
"Ti amo tanto," you said with a giggle, and opened your eyes to place kisses on her neck and cheek.
"Yeah, ti amo tanto baby," she laughed too, and turned her head so you could kiss her lips multiple times.
"Go to sleep now, dude, you have things to do later," you gave her a couple more kisses and returned to your initial position on her back.
"Yes daddy!" She responded obediently and clung to the arm you had around her body to sleep.
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As was usual every time she and you slept together, you woke up first. You gave her a kiss on her temple and carefully got out of bed to go put on some clean boxers, brush your teeth, and return to her. You climbed onto the bed and crawled carefully.
"Honey, wake up, it's a matter of time before the harpy calls you," you said softly, shaking her shoulder lightly.
"Mmmm..." she shifted on the bed and opened only one eye to see you, "What time is it?" she asked with a frown.
"6PM."
As soon as you told the time she sat up and started rubbing her eyes, then she got out of bed and checked her phone.
"Damn, I need to hurry. They're already waiting for me in the lobby."
"Already? There's still an hour left."
"Yeah, but you know how things are," she moved around the room looking for something, "Damn, I left my luggage in the other room. There's a landline phone here too, right?"
"Uh huh, next to the bathroom."
She ran into the hallway, and then you heard her talk to her room service to bring her luggage, which arrived just before five minutes. With her clothes already in your room, she put on clean underwear and went into the bathroom for a few minutes. When she came out, she started to get dressed. All while you were checking your phone without bothering to put on anything other than your boxers.
"So, how do I look?" she told you, coming out of the bathroom for maybe the 6th time in half an hour.
You looked away from your phone and examined her from head to toe. This time she had put on a black cardigan with gold buttons, some flared jeans and a couple of elements from her previous outfit: the red heels and the gold necklace. She gave you a couple of flirtatious spins and blew you a kiss.
"As beautiful and spectacular as always," you winked and smiled at her.
"I'll be back. Wait for me right here, okay?" She approached you, placed her hand on your chest and gave you a kiss on the lips.
"I don't feel like going anywhere else without you, honey. Go," you nodded toward the exit hallway.
"I love you! See you later!" She grabbed her handbag and with the phone in hand she disappeared down the hallway.
"I love you too!"
You heard the door open and then close again, a sign that you would be alone for the next two or maybe three hours. You had slept less than three hours in twenty-four hours due to all the hustle and bustle of the trip and the trip itself, so you took advantage of the moment to sleep again.
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A weight on top of your body and multiple soft kisses all over your face were your alarm clock. You slowly opened your eyes to find a cute smol bean straddling you, an adorable smirk on her face.
"Wakey wakey, sleeping princess," she said as if she were singing you a lullaby. You almost fell asleep again.
"Hmm?" You rubbed your eyes with your fingers and finally opened them to take a good look at her, "Did you just get here? How did it go?"
"Nope, I got here an hour ago, but I wanted to let you sleep a little more," she leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Everything went great, I had one of the best cheesecakes I've ever had in my life, honestly."
"Did you bring me sum?"
"I would have if I had paid for it," she chuckled, "come on, get up, we have a date honey."
"Has everyone left down there? I thought I heard the commotion when you arrived."
"It's 11 at night, people should sleep, right?"
"Yeah but some people are crazy. You know how things are."
"Take it easy babe, we don't have to leave the hotel together anyway. It can be like when you picked me up at the event early."
"The most discreet thing is to go out as if you weren’t going to do anything important at all, it attracts less attention."
"You just want to leave the hotel holding my hand, right?" She raised an eyebrow. You were caught.
"I mean," you pursed your lips and shrugged, "Yeah."
"Alright, alright," she laughed, "But go get dressed then, I'm ready to go."
"If you would just get off of me I could, sweetie."
"Right, sorry," she nodded, and then got off of you.
Looking back at the amount of time it took Hanni to get ready and how long it took you made you feel a little ashamed of being just a man. It had only taken you about ten minutes to get ready to leave. You combed your hair, put on perfume, and put on all your rings: two on your right hand and two on your left. Choosing an outfit was quite easy for you, especially if you took into account that you were going to have a late-night dinner in one of the fashion capitals. A white turtleneck sweater tucked into khaki pants, a dark brown trench coat, and black Chelsea boots.
During the time that you had been getting ready, Hanni was taking photos of herself all over the room, in the end she showed you one that she took in bed and another that she took in the mirror.
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"You look gorgeous, what the hell. Are you gonna post them?," you asked, making a few final adjustments to the collar of your sweater.
"Yeah, why?"
"Nothing, I just want you to make sure I don't show up in any mirrors or some shit," you laughed, "I'd be hung by the balls in ADOR."
"Honey, there aren't that many mirrors in the room."
"Knowing my bad luck, my stupid ass face would show up in the reflection of the bathroom mirror," you grabbed your phone and your wallet to put both things in the pockets of your trench coat.
"But it didn't, let's go!" She gestured you toward the door.
"Did you make sure no one was outside?"
"Manager nim is aware of that, as the hotel security, so we have the green light."
"Aight, but what happens away from the hotel is our business, right?"
"Yup," she nodded.
"Fair enough," you sighed, "Let's go, honey."
After making sure you didn't forget anything, you and she left the room heading out of the hotel. You were lying if you didn't say you were nervous as shit as you walked through the lobby with her holding your hand. As you walked through the revolving door of the hotel you couldn't help but think that the best thing would have been to put on a mask and a cap, the same for her, but at that point you didn't give a damn. You were just a couple of very young adults wanting to be happy together.
You left the hotel looking in all possible directions, then you crossed the street and went to your car to get into it.
"Well, that went well didn't it?" you asked, starting the engine, which roared through the block.
"I mean, I can assure you that this thing just drew all the attention here," she laughed, and you drove away from the hotel grounds.
"In this city we're used to the sound of sports cars, honey, no one cares anymore," you laughed, driving down Via Pontaccio.
"Waaaaoh, that's the most presumptuous thing I've heard you say since I've known you."
"Non è che sia una bugia, amore," you turned for a second only to blow her a vain kiss.
"Yeah yeah whatever you say Mr. Pepperoni," you couldn't help but burst into laughter, "Can I play music?"
"If you have a perfect song that's about five minutes long, go for it," you nodded, still smiling.
She, who had perfectly understood the mood and the context in which you were, played PRIDE. by Kendrick Lamar.
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"Damn, this city is beautiful, especially at night, isn't it?" She said looking out the window as you passed around the Giuseppe Garibaldi statue.
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"Yes it is," you nodded, "It's gotten a lot better since I left. It feels good to be back."
"Would you bring me here again? I'd love to go sightseeing here with you..." she continued looking out the window, completely mesmerized by the city.
"Of course honey. I could even take you to meet my grandparents."
She turned around with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.
"What?!" She exclaimed, causing you to laugh, "Oh no no no, I'm not ready for that, shut up."
"Sooner or later you will have no escape."
"I know, but I don't want to think about it. Shut up, shut up."
After a few minutes you arrived at your destination, the Horto Restaurant, located on the Medelan terrace, a historic building that was previously known as Palazzo Broggi. Now it was full of shops, offices of major banks and conference rooms. You went up to the terrace, asked for one of the tables on the balcony and went to sit down. It didn't take long for the waiter to arrive to pick up your order.
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"I didn't ask you earlier, but how the girls are?" she asked you.
You went blank for a few seconds, formulating the answer in your head because that question encompassed a significant number of girls in your life at that moment.
"Fuck, where do I start," you sighed, "Well, Sullyoon and Haewon are perfect, I haven't been able to spend almost any time with either of them because they've been busy with their activities. Chaeyoung and Sumin are on tour. Rei is giving concerts too. And Yeseo gave a concert yesterday, I think."
"And what about Jinni?" At that moment the waiter brought you two glasses of Masseto wine, "Thank youuu!"
"Grazie mille," you thanked too, "Well, Jinni doesn't talk to me anymore. I can imagine her reasons," you shrugged.
"Oh… that sucks," she grimaced.
"Yeah but I'm not at a point in my life where I want to worry too much about that. How’s Dani?" you asked her, taking a sip of your wine.
"Oh she's great!" The smile returned to her face, "She's on vacation with her family in Australia, I guess she told you."
"Yup, but I haven't talked to her in a few days. The last thing she told me was that she wanted us to meet when the three of us were back in Korea."
"Sleepover at your house?" She took the wine from her with both eyebrows raised.
"You are more than welcome," you smiled.
"Can we take Minji?"
You stopped to think about what that question entailed and you thought about it for a few seconds.
"Only if you promise to behave," you crossed your arms, looking at her with your head tilted.
"We always behave... daddy," she gave you an innocent little smile and seconds later your food arrived.
By the end of your dinner you had also finished your first glasses of wine. The next thing you did was order a dessert, along with two more drinks. She ordered a tiramisu, and you ordered panna cotta. When you also finished the dessert you stood up, wine glasses in hand, and approached the railing to admire the city.
"Gosh, what a view huh?" she said as she looked at the west wing of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. She took a photo from there.
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"You like them?" You took a sip from your glass as you looked at her.
"Are you kidding? I feel like I'm in a Renaissance painting, it's beautiful."
You took a step back and pulled out your phone to point your camera at her as she drank wine.
"And I feel like I'm in a Michelangelo painting looking at you, sweetie."
Hanni had a small moment of panic at your compliment and put her hand to her mouth to squeal in the middle of a silly smile. It was your perfect moment to take the photo. Then you sent it to her.
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"Were you waiting all night to say that line?"
"Nah, it came spontaneously from me."
"Uh-huh, you wouldn't believe it yourself," she laughed, setting her almost-finished glass back on the table to approach you, "Hey... thanks for flying all the way here just for me babe... I was feeling kind of sad to have to be here alone during such an important time."
At that moment, Vivo per lei by Andrea Bocelli was playing inside the covered area. It sounded somewhat muffled due to the distance but it was perfect for the romantic moment, because the breeze also began to blow stronger.
"You have nothing to be thankful for, Phampy. And hey, you wouldn't be alone, you'd be with the harpy," you both laughed.
"Yes, it's basically like being alone," she snuggled into your chest and looked up at you, "But seriously, thank you, it means a lot to me, honey. You're wonderful... and I love you."
You should have told her that you loved her back, after all it was the most normal thing, right? Well no. Up there, under the clear night sky of Milano and with one of the most beautiful romantic pieces in history playing in the background, the first thing that came from the bottom of your heart was to surround her waist with your arms, press her to your body and kiss her.
Hanni wrapped her arms around your neck and clung to you, stroking the hair at the nape of your neck as your lips danced together in a slow, tender kiss. What you were doing was not entirely responsible, you were in a more than public place and on a terrace from where almost anyone could see you. You knew it, yes, but you didn't care in the least. That was a significant moment for you, one that would remain embroidered in your memory and your heart forever, the last thing you needed was to worry about a random snitch.
"I love you too, Phampy," you murmured against her lips, who knows how long after you'd been kissing, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, this honestly feels like a dream."
"You're so cute, god, stop it," she giggled and gave you a peck, "You know, the night is still young..." she put her finger on your chin and traced soft scribbles on it, "Why don't you take me back to the hotel to put the icing on the cake?"
"By cake you mean your cake, huh?" You raised an eyebrow with an amused expression.
"By cake I mean I can't wait for you to fuck my ass today. You know what the icing is... daddy," she moved closer to your neck and gave you a quick lick so no one else would see.
"Aight, we're getting out of here."
You hurried to pay the bill (another hard blow to your wallet) and you both got out of the building, got into the car and headed to the hotel again, which you arrived in record time and probably breaking some maximum speed limits. You hurried to take the elevator and go up the hallway, but Hanni, seeing that there was no one there, couldn't hold back the urge and kissed you right there.
You moved between kisses with clumsy steps and slight stumbles, in the end you saved yourself any future effort. As soon as you opened the door you picked her up so that she clung to your torso with her legs and you entered the room. You threw her back against the bed, and being between her legs you went deeper into her kiss. All tenderness had already disappeared, now you were eating each other's mouths in a fierce and passionate way, she letting out constant little moans against your lips.
Hanni took your coat off your shoulders and you helped her by taking it off your arms—when you threw it on the floor your phone must have taken a good hit, but at that moment you didn't even think about it. She also took your sweater out of your pants and put her hands in to caress your abdomen and chest. You separated from her lips and dove into her neck to fill it with kisses and light hickeys. As you did so she pulled the hem of your sweater up to take it off as well, and with your torso now bare you returned the favor by unbuttoning her cardigan and opening it wide, to reveal her black bra underneath it.
As you took off each shoe with your feet you began to trail your kisses down to her collarbone and her shoulders, making sure not to leave any non-wet areas before moving on to the next. You focused now on her tits, which contrary to what they might seem, were not small at all. Each mound was filled with kisses and licks, but before you freed them from the annoying bra, you now moved towards your favorite part of her body.
Kissing Hanni's belly always felt like kissing a soft sugar cloud; it was so perfect that you could literally spend hours just being there, filling it with kisses and licking it multiple times. While she caressed your hair and gave it little tugs with one of her hands, you unbuttoned her jeans and lowered the zipper, and without still lowering the jeans you now kissed her lower belly and her pubes above of her panties.
"Mmm..." you heard her moan softly, "Is daddy going to eat me? I would love for daddy to eat me..."
Her low, angelic voice always managed to make you feel things, and at that moment it turned you on so much that you pulled her jeans and panties down to her knees in one tug. She gasped, seeing you kneeling in front of her with the biggest 'fuck me' eyes. You took off her heels and threw them to the floor, and with her feet now free you finished removing her jeans and panties off her legs.
She crawled into bed and laid her head on a pillow to spread her legs wide, bringing one hand to her pussy to rub it up and down with two of her fingers. You dropped onto your stomach so that your face was just inches from her crotch. Normally you would have done some foreplay and been gentle, but you were too hungry for her. You grabbed her by both her soft, fleshy thighs, and without thinking twice you buried your mouth in her pussy.
"Hmm!" she moaned louder, "Yes daddy... eat your little baby's pussy, make me cum all over your face, please..."
You could always be the top and the dominant, but the truth is you were at the complete mercy of her and her requests. If she told you to jump into a puddle of mud so she could pass, you went at record speed to do it; if she ordered you to bungee jump without any type of rope, you would jump blindfolded. That was the level of control she had over you.
With how turned on you were, you didn't bother to be passionate or sensual, you got straight to the point with intense, wet kisses up and down her slit. Hanni tangled her fingers in your hair and grabbed a handful of it to tug gently. You used your tongue to give her frantic licks up and down, the velvety folds of her beginning to get wet and delicious.
Your grip on her thighs tightened. The flesh beneath your fingers trembled, and her fingers pulling at your hair made it harder and harder. You noticed her wanting to close her thighs around your head like she always did and like you always loved it, but you wanted to make her wait a little.
"Just like that daddy… yes, yes!" She squealed, pulling harder on your hair but also stroking it knowing that she hurt you.
You pressed her thighs as far back as you could, concentrating on attacking her clit quickly and sloppily, alternating between long up-and-down licks and stimulation on her hole. With your peripheral vision you noticed how she reached one hand under her back and unclasped her bra to take it off. She just left her open cardigan on. Her beautiful pair of breasts were exposed, and you soon reached up to grope one of them.
Her thighs were already too tight to contain, so you let go, and as soon as you did she trapped your head between them in a tight, soft meat sandwich. You intensified your efforts, now also adding one of your fingers to pump it in and out of her.
"Don't stop daddy..." she gasped, "Oh my god don't stop don't stop don't stop!!"
And you didn't do it in any second. Not until the pressure on either side of your head became so strong and her body became so trembling that you knew her orgasm was just around the corner. Seconds later she came, arching her back and gripping the pillow beneath her head with both hands. You collected every delicious drop of fluids with your mouth, sucking and licking up and down her pussy until they were gone.
She finally let go of your head and relaxed her legs to the sides. You wiped your chin, and knelt up to look her in the eyes.
"Do you feel like sucking daddy's cock?" you asked, unbuttoning your pants and unzipping them.
"I always feel like sucking daddy's delicious cock..." she responded breathlessly, then sat up and took off her cardigan to throw it in with the rest of her clothes.
Already completely naked from head to toe, Hanni got on all fours and crawled up to you with hungry eyes, looking up at you when she was in front of your hard bulge. She grabbed the hem of your pants and pulled them down to your knees. Her lips were planted on your bulge above your boxers, kissing the outline of your cock and also kissing your balls. It didn't take long for the drops of precum to leak through the fabric and make a stain, which she then collected with her tongue before lowering your boxers as well.
"How can I not always want to suck daddy's cock?" she asked as she set your throbbing shaft free, "It's so juicy..." wet kisses on the backside, "So big..." kisses now on your balls, "And it fits so well in my mouth."
She gave your cock a long lick from the balls to your tip and swirled her tongue there before taking a couple of inches into her mouth. A few sucks on your tip were enough for her to take a couple more inches, then she started pumping back and forth, taking a little more than half of your cock in and out of her warm mouth.
You had a wonderful view: her beautiful arched back and her perfect upturned ass. While she slurped over and over on your cock you leaned forward slightly to grope her ass to your heart's content. You squeezed each of her ass cheeks hard, and also gave a couple of spanks hard enough to make her moan around your cock.
She pulled you out of her mouth with a sharp gasp of air and spat a large amount of saliva onto your cock to jerk you off quickly. She looked into your eyes for a few long seconds, her mouth purposely half open so you could see how a thread of saliva dripped from her lower lip onto the bed.
"Does daddy want to fuck her little baby's mouth?" she asked, then started sucking your balls and filling them with saliva.
"If you promise to be a good girl and swallow it all..."
You grabbed a handful of her hair and made her lift her head slightly to lick all the way from her chin to her upper lip. That made her moan.
"I'm always a good girl... you should know that daddy… Now put that hot load down my throat,"
By her saying that you forced her to return to her initial position. She opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out as far as she could. You gathered as much of her hair as you could into a ponytail and held it to take your cock into her mouth. You let out a long gasp, starting to pump your hips back and forth.
Hanni stuck to being a good girl as if it were a divine commandment. She remained with her tongue hanging out and her mouth wide open; it didn't matter how deep you pushed or how fast you did it, she always did what she knew you would love. And in that moment, as you fucked her mouth faster and faster, you felt like you were going to explode at any second.
She wasn't able to take you all the way down her throat, but she did such a good job with her tongue that you didn't care at all. Her saliva began to spill down her chin, bubbling and falling to the mattress with each thrust. You moaned loudly, releasing her ponytail to now grab two handfuls of her hair with both hands, then you began to move her head against your cock.
The frantic gag sounds were like music to your ears. You growled, releasing one of the fistfuls of her hair to give her a harder spank that made her moan again. The vibrations sent to your cock were the finishing touch that with a couple more pumps, made you explode inside her mouth. You buried her head against your cock as much as you could, shooting your entire load down her throat.
"Oh yeah... take it all baby," you gasped, hearing her cough and seeing the veins in her neck pop out.
She closed her lips around your cock so that no drop of cum would escape as she swallowed it all. You stroked her hair and then the side of her face, as a reward for swallowing your entire load once your orgasm passed. You pulled your cock out of her mouth, and she took a sharp breath. Multiple thick strings of saliva connecting the tip of your cock to her lips.
"See daddy? I'm always a good girl... I swallowed it all," she stuck her tongue out for you to check.
"And since you're such a good girl..." you leaned in to give her a kiss on the forehead and another on her nose, "You deserve for daddy to make love to you."
Hanni's face lit up like a streetlight and a smile spread from ear to ear. She knelt and then fell back to lay on her side, her head on the pillow.
"Come here and kiss me then, dear," she said back in her small, soothing voice.
You raised knee by knee and finished removing your pants and boxers off your legs; then you lay down on one side of her and pressed her back and your chest together. You repeated your same sleeping position, her lying on top of your right arm and her entire body against yours. Only this time you took your cock with one hand and made her put her ass back, so you could make your way between her buttocks and find her pussy, which you rubbed several times with your tip. Your cock was already well lubricated and her pussy extremely wet, so it took no effort at all to take your entire cock inside her in one smooth motion.
"Mmm..." she let out a long, adorable moan. You hugged her with both arms and began to shower her jaw with kisses, "God..."
You began to move your hips slowly, taking the entire length of your cock in and out of her wet pussy with sensual movements. It was the perfect moment for you both to enjoy each other's bodies as much as you could. With your right hand—the one around her neck—you grabbed one of her tits and massaged it, playing with her nipple from time to time. With your left hand you explored every possible corner of her body within your reach; you started with her perfect belly, caressing it from top to bottom with the palm of your hand; then your hand went to her soft thighs, squeezing one of them and later moving to her ass, which you also squeezed hard.
From her position Hanni couldn't do much, but she used what little mobility she had to caress your hair, the side of your torso, your hips and finally your butt, which she also squeezed before turning to look at you. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyebrows were arched in pleasure. She looked at your lips, and pulled you towards her to kiss her.
While you shared a kiss full of passion and small moans you lifted one of her legs, holding it by the back of her knee and pressing it against her torso. Hanni moaned louder against your lips, and you did it back, feeling in absolute heaven as you fucked her with slow, strong, deep pumps.
"Oh my god... you drive me so fucking crazy darling..." she murmured against your lips between gasps.
"You drive me crazy too, baby..." you bit her lower lip, then looked into her eyes, "I absolutely love every part of you... you're so fucking perfect."
You gave her a few harder, faster thrusts for a few seconds, now kissing her chin and neck. She pulled you gently by her hair.
"Absolutely every part of me is yours... my entire fucking existence belongs to you, fuck," she moaned, breathing becoming louder and more ragged.
You let go of her leg and let it fall back so that it was bent toward her body. Now you rested that hand on her soft waist, holding on there with your fingers as hard as you could.
"Say it... tell me you're completely mine," you murmured against her neck, which you then bit gently.
"I'm completely yours, damn it! And I love you so much that I wouldn't mind being it forever! Fuck!!"
That last sentence of hers, said between loud moans and gasps, was the precursor to one of the strongest orgasms you could ever cause in her. She clung to your right forearm with both hands, letting out beautiful squeals of pleasure that urged you to kiss her again. You fucked her non-stop during her orgasm, which made her writhe in your arms and let out a small load of hot fluids that you felt soaked part of your cock.
"And you..." she whispered, "You are completely mine," she looked into your eyes, "You belong to me. Every part of you, from head to toe. Everything about you says Hanni Pham’s property."
Her words were a breaking point for you. You couldn't take it anymore, and with a sudden burst of energy you forgot that you were making love to her. You fucked her as fast and hard as you could, holding on to one of her tits as if your life depended on it and putting such pressure on her waist that it could very well hurt later. You buried your face in her neck once more, and it only took a few seconds for you to explode inside her again. This time filling her pussy with so much cum that you felt like it was already spilling out after a couple of pumps.
"Oh yeah... give me all that load dear, put it all inside me, fill me and make me more yours than I already am..." she said in a low voice as you spilled the last drops.
"You're lucky you're on the pills..." you mumbled between tired breaths, "Because if you tell me that I just want to put a baby in you."
"Right now it's impossible... in the future, who knows."
You looked up to look at her for a few seconds and then kiss her again as you let your cock slide out of her pussy—forming a massive pool of cum on the mattress that you didn't bother to clean up at the time. You two completely lost track of time, two minutes or two hours could have passed while you were kissing. You didn't know, what you did know is that it didn't end there. And also that you already felt ready for one last round.
"The icing is still missing on the cake... don't you think?" you asked, and she gave you a mischievous smile.
"Did you bring lube? I didn't think I'd need it."
"Unlike you..."
You got out of bed and went to your bag, you dug to the bottom of it and took out the water-based lubricant that you and she always used.
"I'm always prepared for anything," you winked at her and went back to bed.
"How do I know you haven't had it there since you went to fuck Haewon or some shit like that?" she raised both eyebrows in an expression that made you laugh.
"As real as that sounds to you and me, no. I put it there thinking exclusively of you," you gave her a peck on the lips and gave her a little spank.
"Wow, that's thoughtful, isn't it?" you noticed the sarcasm in her voice, "Does that mean you really fucked her ass?"
"I don't know, why don't you ask her?"
You grabbed her by the waist and forced her onto her stomach, then she herself lifted her butt and got on her forearms and knees for you. You settled on your knees behind her pretty round ass, your cock resting between her butt cheeks.
"Because I don't care, no ass will feel better than mine to you."
She looked over her shoulder at you with a mischievous expression and arched her back even further, pressing the side of her face into the bed. You took the bottle of lubricant and started pouring it all over her ass, including your cock in the middle. After having poured a not at all modest amount you put the bottle aside and began to spread the liquid, making her pale buttocks so shiny that they reflected the ceiling lights. You repeated the process with your cock, and then used your fingers to spread it into her butthole as well.
"That's a pretty humble take, huh?" you imitated the sarcasm in her voice.
"Put that cock in there and you'll find out, daddy," she returned to the spiciest tone of voice, the one that made you fuck her in the middle of an alley.
You didn't make her wait. You took your cock in one hand, pressed it against her butthole and slowly sank into it. She frowned and moaned, engulfing your cock inch by inch until it disappeared between her ass cheeks. You let your pelvis rest against her ass, all the while you just looked at her.
"Fuck, maybe you're right. I don't think there's an ass that feels as good as this one."
You gave one of her buttocks a hard spank, the hardest of the night, and repeated the same with the other. Hanni let out little squeals at both of them. You began to move slowly back and forth, slow pumps at first to let her walls get used to it.
"Is this daddy's favorite ass then? Hm?" she asked with a provocative tone.
Certainly Haewon's ass was a strong contender, and Rei's wasn't that far off either, but you had to give in to the truth.
"Yes it is..." you replied as you made circles on her buttocks with your hands, "now shut up and let daddy pound it really good."
As a good man of your word you did so. You clung to her waist with both hands, making sure she was looking at you before you began to increase your pace. With each thrust Hanni's face twisted more and her face became redder with pleasure. Her body shook with increasing violence as your pelvis slammed harder against her ass and filled the room with the sound of your lewd act.
"Give me your damn hands," you ordered, and she obediently put her hands behind her back.
You put her hands on top of each other and then grabbed both of her forearms with your hand. With that point of grip you began the real action, now fucking her ass in such a way that even that bed squeaked every few seconds. You raised your free hand and gave her another hard spank.
"Oh fuck!!" She squealed, "Give me more daddy! Let your good girl's ass fucking red!!"
You switched the hand you had on her forearms and now gave her other buttock a series of consecutive spanks that made her scream into the sheets. You didn't stop until her right buttock was as red as a tomato, and then you repeated the process with the other. With Hanni's request fulfilled, you brought her knees together and made her lie on her stomach to now fuck her prone bone.
"Now you feel kinky huh?" you growled.
You let go of her forearms and leaned forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and lifting her head just to shower her neck with kisses. Hanni clung to your neck with one hand and you felt her grip her fingers around it. You pumped up and down as hard as you could, pinning her against the bed.
"I-I..." she stuttered, "D-Daddy, I'm going to... HMMM!!"
Just before she finished her sentence you noticed all the muscles in her ass tighten around your shaft. Hanni's legs began to shake, and she rolled her eyes back as she grunted in pleasure. You stood up straight again and released the handful of her hair with a sharp downward push. She leaned on her hands and watched you over her shoulder as you continued fucking her ass.
"So? What are you waiting for to put the icing on the cake daddy?" she raised an eyebrow letting you know that she was ready for more.
"I hope you know how to hide the pain in your legs, you slut."
You pulled out of her ass and made her lie on her back. She spread her legs wide, gripping her own thighs, and you returned inside her butthole with a single strong thrust. Now you were looking into her eyes, and she was looking straight back at you. You let her take care of holding her legs, and you concentrated on bringing her hands to her neck to press your fingers around it.
"I don't care about the damn pain..." she managed to say through her throat slightly clogged by your fingers, "Just put all that load inside me, daddy..."
You didn't need to remember how much power she and her words had over you, but those damn words made you feral. You removed her hands from her thighs and grabbed them yourself, only to pull them back and press them tight against her torso. You leaned forward, and placed your hands on her sides to use your body as weight.
Now your face and hers weren't too far from each other. She cradled your face with her hands, and made you stare at her while you pounded her ass like an animal. The tide of stimulus soon became too strong. Her deep eyes fixed on you; her blushing cheeks; her mouth half open and gasping with pleasure; her sweaty skin constantly rubbing against yours; and above all, her incredibly tight ass, which in a few seconds brought you to one last orgasm.
"Mmmghh!!" you growled, tensing all the muscles in your neck as you gave one last hard push down.
"Hmm!!" She moaned with you, "That's it daddy, give it to me all... all of it!!"
You didn't hold back the urge to kiss her as you shot thick jets of semen into her ass, now giving slow, deep thrusts so that she felt absolutely every drop of it filling her. She moaned against your lips, and released her legs from the pressure of your body to wrap them around your torso. Then she wrapped her arms around your neck as well, and once again, you kissed for longer than you could imagine.
"What a way to end the night, huh?" you asked between labored breaths once you maked out for about five minutes.
"Oh yeah..." she nodded, placing kisses on your chin and another on your nose, "It was more than necessary."
"Are you flying to Korea tomorrow?"
"I think so, and you?"
"I don't know, I might stay here a couple more days before I take the flight."
"And keep paying for that damn beast down there?" she laughed.
"Oh hell no, our mechanic friend already did his job perfectly. But maybe you'll see him again in Korea."
"Then I'll pull your ears for spending that kind of money."
"It's not like you didn't like it," you laughed.
You stood up and started looking for things for you and Hanni to clean up. Once both bodies were clean, you turned on the air conditioning and turned off the lights. Now you only had the light from one of the lamps on each side of the bed. You settled under the blanket, she clinging to you with her arms and legs like a koala clinging to her branch.
"I love you, Phampy... sweet dreams," you kissed her forehead and then her lips.
"I love you too dear… thank you for being here with me," she said softly before closing her eyes.
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Spren Notes: Well, first of all, I must apologize once again for filling this piece with so much Italianness everywhere lmao. It was necessary. This is probably the most personal and close to my heart piece I have ever written. I just hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
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mariasont · 2 months
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can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??
Marked Territory - A.H
A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet
THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
wk: 1.2k
pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader
warnings: heavy makeout, jealously
You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.
"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."
You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."
Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"
You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."
A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."
You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.
You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.
The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.
You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.
"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"
The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.
"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.
With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist. 
"Honey--I, we're in the office."
His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."
An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"
Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.
With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.
A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive.  Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."
Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."
His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."
Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.
"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."
"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."
A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."
Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug. 
"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
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foervraengd · 10 months
Text
Mirre’s “How i render gemstones” tutorial!
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(note: image above is not what is shown in the walkthrough. It is an example piece)
Ingredients:
Art program that has layers and selection tools
Patience (hubris or stubbornness is fine too)
(recommended) photo references of gemstones and/or prisms
(Optional but very helpful) Knowledge on how to use Reference layers and anti-overflow in Clip studio Paint
For this tutorial i am going to use clip studio’s “anti-overflow” feature. This post is not going to explain how to use that specific setting but you should be able to find guides on how to use it on clip studio’s official website or on youtube.
Please Note: The result of this technique will not 100% represent real life gemstones. These are more simplified but should still make an impression of the brilliance and appeal of gems, crystals and diamonds.
If you don’t work in CSP: the best workaround is to use the polygonal lasso selection tool for the same purpose.
This ended up being a long post so I am putting it under the readmore:
First off; Basic idea on how the light refracts inside a solid transparent object:
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Wether it is acrylic, glass, water or crystal, the way light pass through more or less should behave the same as long as it is solid and not hollow inside. Pay attention to how the darkest parts of the stone goes along the inner edges, leaving a ”mid tone” sort of in the center. However, this might vary depending on the light setting. But it is a generally good rule-of-thumb to follow if you’re drawing something not based on a photo. Another thing to pay attention to here is how the placement of the highlight will lit up the inside of the gem in a parallel line. It also shows through on the cast shadow.
Light refraction on a cube:
I have already made two posts on this, so definitely go through them:
CUBE BREAKDOWN POST HERE
But a rough summary from those two links would be: Every side/facet of a gem or a cube etc refracts the light individually and not as one entity (that would make it look hollow and not solid). Think of it like how each piece in a broken mirror individually reflect your face back to you. Like a weird patchwork!
Putting this into practice:
For this tutorial I’m going to be nice to myself and not try to draw perfectly accurate gemstones. Instead I’m gonna draw them with a more ”natural” looking set of facets. Which actually isnt as common in real world as video games makes us think. Some crystals have geometric shapes naturally, but a lot of other stones are not as fancy. Anyway, im taking artistic liberty on these example stones because the technique I’m going to use will work for these just fine.
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So, in clip studio paint, I first draw the stones on a vector layer. I give them facets for the front side. Then I duplicate the layer, remove the front facets and replace them with the facets on the back of the stone. The third image here shows both layers visible on top of each other. I now put these into a layer folder and mark the folder as ”reference”.
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Now, on a layer below the lineart folder, fill with your base tone. Then make a layer on top (if you can clip it to the base tone, do that), this layer is where you decide where the highlight will be placed. In some cases the highlight is only lighting up one single facet - it really depends on the design of the stone. You can also blend and soften the highlight here if it looks good for you, just make sure not every facet is highlighted. The highlight layer should be on top of all the other layers clipped to the base tone layer.
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Now it is time for the juicy juicy stuff! Turn on both lineart layers so they’re both visible. I hid the hilight layer here because it was in the way, but might not be needed in your case. Make a layer clipped to the base tone and paint in the darkest tone. This is where anti-overflow helps me out, because when i run my brush over all these crossed lines it will make the stroke pop in and out for each facet. If you dont use CSP, this is where you can use the lasso tool and select every second facet. It will take a bit more time but it should work similarly.
After the darkest tones I then make a layer for the inside light that the highlight has lit up. Here i keep it inside the darkest tone but this might vary depending on the light setting. If it looks good to me, then that’s what i stick to.
The way I approach rendering the facets here is like the grid in the example images above, every shade and tone appear more or less in each facet but the amount is relative to their position. So a gradient wouldnt have a smooth transition; it would be slightly scewed in each square on this example grid. Essentially like how some bathroom window glass panes look like.
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Now it’s time to hide the lineart layer folder and check if the gemstones look decent to you. If not, then you can look up some reference photos and analyze where the values group together the most; be careful not to focus too much on the photos 500 million sparkles. Squint your eyes or blur the reference and try to see how the overall values behae.
I, personally, am satisfied with these rocks so I slap on a gradient map (you can manually color in them too if that’s your thing) and call it a day. The lit up inside of a gemstone tend to have a brighter and more saturated color than the mid tone.
Other Examples with this technique:
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If you look up ”gemstone types” you can often find images displaying various facet types from more than just front view. These can serve as useful base templates for practicing this rendering technique. The backside of a gemstone is called the “pavillion” and is really useful to have at hand when it comes to painting the inner refractions. You can probably also use 3D models and convert the wireframe into lineart. But that is slightly out of my pool of knowledge.
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Applying this knowledge without using a base lineart layer is of course possible. In this painting I followed a simplified summary of how the facets sparkle: Keep the highlight shape to match the front facet design, and all the inner refractions should be more scattered and split up but face a direction towards the center of the gem. Now don’t you think this sort of makes the gems look like eyes? That’s right! You can, and absolutely should, apply this on eyes to create the most sparkly anime eyes ever.
Now, refracted light that lands on the surface surrounding gemstones varies depending on the material - and if the gem is inside a metal frame it usually doesnt create this much refraction around it. But I want to have fun so i decided to break this rule in the name of pretty sparkles. :)
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baddiewiththebook · 8 months
Text
ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 2]
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n I tried to tag everyone I saw, but some of y'all weren't linking. Also, there is a part three because part two became so long. Whoops!
[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3]
-> <-
“You're eventually going to have to talk to them,” Robin shimmies her backpack into the empty chair next to her rather than being strewn across the lunchroom table. “As far as they know, you changed your hair and your clothes and now you hate them.”
You place your lunch tray onto the open space, then sit across from her.
Distancing from your friends was cruel, and you knew that. Robin is also right. Still, you wake an hour early to get to school ahead of them. Taking windy pathways past the gymnasium that stunk of socks to avoid Eddie on his way to his classroom that is two doors away from yours. You carry all of your heaviest books now because Gareth’s locker is across from yours. You do regret leaving that sandwich in your locker though. Gross.
With a routine schedule, two months have flown by without a hitch in the plan. Robin likes sitting with you at lunch, but she does wish you chose to sit here rather than watching you screw away at a tight bond with the boys over at the other table.
Things were desperate by the first week when you shoved toilet paper up your nose in order to fib to Eddie that you were too sick to go anywhere. You missed two days of class just so you could keep away from him.
Then, there was the band performances. You never missed a single night that Corroded Coffin played music at the scrappy biker bar at the outskirts of town. The boys had stopped inviting you after “missing two,” but you snuck into the shadows in the back of the bar. No one really bothered you there. Stage lights distracted the performers enough to where they could only see the front row of drunks.
All of the practice in Gareth’s garage paid off. Corroded Coffin was good - no, excellent. You were so proud of the boys.
You wish you could tell them.
And, so, maybe Robin is right. All of this running around is silly and reckless. You miss all of your friends dearly. Even Eddie, who still you find absolutely and undoubtedly the most complicated soul you ever met in your entire life. Your friendship is more to you than desperately clinging to his ankle like a shaken chihuahua in heat.
Maybe there is a part of you that still wishes he’d see. All the effort you put into your hair, your skin and your nails isn’t just about proving that you aren’t just one of the guys. You knew this from the very beginning. Still, even after your conversation with Gareth that one night, you still play out this plot a little longer.
You like the shiny bling and the tighter clothes that get you a bit more attention. But, you didn’t have to change yourself completely - right?
“Isn’t it time for me to mingle with people who have similar interests as me?” You say finally out of your head. Snagging one of Robin’s fries, you drop down in the seat across from her.
“You've proven you can be a chick with or without that frizzy haired freak. Don't act like you don't like the same stuff they do,” she flicks your jacket, which has hours of patchwork done. You had sewn on patches of your favorite bands. Most of the bands, you had learned from Eddie, himself.
Hours of listening to music together in his trailer, while sharing a blunt. Eddie would get a wind of energy and then he’d leap onto his bed for a solo performance. Fingers stroking a guitar that never existed. You laugh as he tumbles over his mattress, and he tells you that’s when the crowd will carry him - to victory!
You warm at the memory.
Eddie is the only person at his lunch table. Kicking his foot up onto an empty chair, he lounges and he waits for his friends. He’s always the first to get there because his class is so close to the cafeteria. It takes Gareth and Jeff a longer time because they come from the gym. And, the freshman come from the opposite side of the school, so they take the longest to get to the cafeteria.
“Go on,” Robin nudges you. “I’ll see you in math later.”
By the time Robin kicks you thrice in the shin, you get over your worries. You want to patch your friendships up with the boys, but you’re not sure what to tell them. Explaining the truth felt horrific. That you like - er - liked Eddie. Gareth’s confession in the kitchen.
Yeah, the truth seems far fetched.
Your second option is to beg for them to quit calling you ‘one of the guys,’ but that too came off risky. You've never had a problem with their comments before, or their disgusting antics and habits. Once you smell a Jeff fart, then all of the other farts seem forgiving. Seriously, no one should ever give him cheese again. Yet, they do.
Anyway, talking to Eddie first feels less daunting then to come up to all of them at once. But, with your stalling, your wish comes to late. The boys rush the table, hollering and whooping like unkept animals.
You stop in your tracks fully when you see two women beeline for the table. They never invite people to their table. Or at least, they never invite just anyone.
Roxie is easy to recognize. Candy coated red lips meet that of Eddie’s pale cheek that blushes a deep crimson at the affection. Eddie hangs his head, so he can smack a wet kiss to her lips. She uses a free hand to swipe the spare lipstick from his mouth.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie cooed.
Roxie touches his hair in a way that makes his eyes droop low, and he rests his head on her chest. All while he keeps his conversation with Jeff going.
Meanwhile, the other woman is her opposite.
Brunette hair cascades down her back, and tangles amongst her woven sweatshirt. Arms wide open with her slender fingers covered by the net sweater she hid under. She sneaks up on Gareth, and hangs over his neck. Gareth cranes his neck, and whispers in her ear making her laugh sweetly. He touches her wrist with gentle fingers and he pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose with his free hand, before they have a chance to slip further down her face.
“Indie!” Dustin shouts.
The girl hanging from Gareth picks her head up, and grins with a shining sparkle in her eye at the young freshman. She reaches over to ruffle his hair.
You panic.
Slamming into someone’s shoulder, you apologize and you retreat like a mouse being stepped on. Time slows down. You move around people as fast as your feet will carry you.
You can hear your breath in your ears meeting up with your heart banging against your ribcage.
Robin calls to you, but you can’t hear her. Blood rushes through you, and you swear your can feel the swimming and the tingling. Your fingertips tingle when you push open the door into the hallway.
Technically speaking, you couldn’t be out here if you're on our lunch period. A few classes still go on, but mostly the teachers didn’t want anyone to catch them smoking in their classrooms where they shouldn’t be. It’s not like the smell lingers.
Somewhere down the hallway, a classroom is having a heated debate. Voices bounce from wall to wall. Echoing into your eardrums. All. Too. Much. You aim for the big showy doors at the front of the building.
Cool damp air hits your cheeks. Trees stand tall. Birds hold meetings on their branches. They sing soft melodies. Outside smells earthy.
Immersing yourself in the sourness of the damp remains of rainfall, you slow your jagged breathing. Your heart beat regulates.
Keys trembling in your fist, you find your car parked not too far away in the parking lot. Some asshole has blocked your passenger side in, so even if you wanted too you wouldn't be able to get in that way.
Kicking yourself for taking the cowards way out, you catch a tearful glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Mascara slips down your cheeks. Your drowning in two inches of water.
Eddie's bandana sits in your glove compartment. It still remains his with the lingering tang of old cigarettes and sweat. You told him if he left that nasty thing in here that you'd wash the stink out.
You haven't.
Clinging to a tissue, you use that to pat your face dry. Dabbing at your eyes, you don't want to disturb your makeup. Funny how a few months ago, you would be scrubbing your cheeks raw to get anything off of your face.
The tapping on your window startles you because you think a teacher has seen you. However, you find only Robin with a pitiful expression on her face. She waves for you to roll down your window, then holds out your backpack and your jacket that you’ve left behind in your scurry to get out of school.
“You left your things,” she looks at your puffy eyes and your worn out makeup. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you reach out for your things, only to put them in the passenger seat next to you, “I think I’ll go home.”
“Indie is a really nice girl-,”
“I’m not worried about Indie.”
Robin winces at the sharpness of your tone slicing through the air like butter. You apologize to her.
“I’m going to go home, Robin.”
“Roxie and Eddie are only going to last for a day - I guarantee,” her shoulders bobble. “It’s Roxie.”
“Yeah,” you say thinly.
Robin taps your car. “Get home safe.”
“Will do,” you say. “Thank you.”
-> <-
When you arrived at school the next day, you're in class for less than fifteen minutes before your name blasts on the intercom to report to the main office. Robin salutes you from her seat in the back of home room like you’re taking a final walk, before they take you around the back and shoot you between the eyes. Well done, soldier.
Although not as dramatic, you were served a detention slip for after school. You suspected as such, since you left halfway through school without an explanation. Next time you'll go to the nurse, and heat up the thermometer with your tongue. Give her a cough, or a sneeze and she would send you home.
You tap your fresh manicure across the etchings in the desk. Profanities. Markings of once was, and forever will be.
Low rumbles cause for distraction. You pick a desk next to a window where you see the gray clouds clustering in close. They spit at the ground. Droplets of water slip across the glass. You guess which droplet will get to the bottom first, and silently cheer the winner.
Your eye drifts to the front of the class where your chest rises and falls at the next person to walk through the door. All those months of hiding your head felt worthless when Eddie shows up.
For a moment, you think, he’s looking right at you. You swallow, but you try waving. Eddie does ignore you and plops himself into a chair at the front of the classroom. His backpack drops with a thunk.
Tipping your attention back to the window, the rain comes down harder in flashes of wet thunder and lightening. Dark and stormy weather is your favorite. Because, after the rain stops, you like splashing in every puddle until you can’t see the color of your boots anymore.
You can’t do that in your new sneakers. Not a speck of dust on them. Barely out of the box.
“Everyone in their seats,” a man in a blazer walking with an arch to his spine tells us. He hovers at the front of the classroom with both hands on his desk, while peering just above his square framed lenses. Wild gray hairs stick out on end near his ears. You wonder if he’s done this on purpose to accentuate that despite he’s bald on top of his head, he still in fact has hair. “I’m Mr. Clark, and this will be an hour long detention session.”
You came prepared with notebooks and homework to do for the next hour.
“I’ll be taking attendance, and then you may quietly do your homework or read . . . for all I care, bang your head against the desk just be quiet,” he aims the metaphorical bullet at Eddie and misses, and hits the wall just over the top of his head.
Eddie clicks his teeth. “You got it teach.”
“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark groans. “Will I ever get tired of seeing your face?”
Eddie grins famously. “Oh, you know you’ll never get tired of me, Dick.”
“It’s Richard,” he clears his throat, then straightens his tie, “Mr. Clark to you.”
You miss the banter. The smart mouth Eddie that has you drooling. Oh, God, please resist getting sucked in again.
The notebook in front of you has pages of blank white paper. You focus on filling in the lines with your math equations.
“Solve for E,” you tell yourself in a hushed whisper. “What ever happened to X?”
So, you solve for E.
You raise your hand when your name is called for the attendance. Pretending that Eddie didn’t whip around at your name, instead you solve for E. You solve for E because E is the equivalent of- E is the equivalent of-
Eddie can’t help, but watch your eyebrows get closer and closer to your nose. You get frazzled easily when you know you’re close to an answer that’s on the tip of your tongue.
You’re breaking now. Keeping your head down, as Eddie burns holes into the top of your head. E isn’t an equivalent of anything. E is the most complex and confusing letter of the alphabet. You swore up and down that you would avoid E. E’s in front of you. There’s no way to escape E for an entire hour. Even when you think you've solved E, you still have to see E living in a trailer across from you. E’s lights still on. Eating. Watching TV. Changing. Sleeping. Dreaming.
Crap, you are not thinking about the fifth letter in the alphabet. And, you are certainly not thinking about math.
You throw down your pencil in frustration.
Eddie waits for Mr. Clark to finish his attendance taking. In mere moments, the old geezer passes out despite his fifth coffee of the day. He rocks back in his chair, arms at his side with a trail of drool spilling out down his chin.
That’s when Eddie moves.
“Hey,” you have your head down on your desk by now, but Eddie doesn’t care.
He doesn’t understand why you’re avoiding the group. Obviously, he misses when you would sit at the table and you correct his homework from the night before. You’re too smart for him. Eddie knows this. You’re more than a brain to him, though. The way you speak with your hands more and more when you get excited.
Eddie likes to pretend not to understand why he gets nervous when you lean over his shoulders to show him how to work out a problem in one of his classes. He pretends to not notice the scent of your soap that smells so sweet and delicious. That the smell lingers when you leave.
What he can't shake, however, is why you haven’t been speaking to him for the last two months. Darting into empty classrooms when you think he’s not looking. When your home, you'll keep the lights off or low enough that he might forget you’re home (he doesn’t). And, you think you’re clever sneaking into the back of his performances with the band, but Eddie sees you there dancing by yourself with a grin on your face that could break apart the gray days and bring back the sunshine. You haven’t missed a single performance yet.
So, where have you been?
You bring your head up from the table because you know Eddie is smarter than to think you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes you talk, or you twitch your arms - Eddie’s seen this when you knock out after a long day. He'll let you sleep there, but he'll take off your shoes so that you're comfortable. And, he'll even place a blanket over you because you'll start to shiver. But, he never stays. He doesn't want you to wake up because Eddie is notoriously clumsy. Instead, Eddie would sneak into the living room twiddling his thumbs making no noise until you wake up. He wouldn't turn on the television. He wouldn't warm anything up in the microwave. He wouldn't even open his fridge. He would sit on the floor of his living room kicking his feet together, and plucking at the carpet fibers.
You never sleep long - thirty minutes at most.
Eddie thinks about how much time you spend together in his trailer at this moment. You’ve shared everything. Clothes. Towels. Blankets. Toothpaste. Food. Secrets. You've made a mark on him when he wasn’t looking. If there is a way to tattoo someone into their brain, into their heart, you're there.
That terrifies him.
“Hi,” your voice melts him.
Eddie stumbles over his words. “Erm-,”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt. “I just-,”
“How are you doing?” Eddie wants you to keep talking. He’ll ask about anything to keep you here with him. Tempting you like a rabbit, and him holding onto a carrot, he waits for you to bite.
“Good,” you reply. “You?”
“Yeah, good.”
You can’t hold back. “You’re with Roxie, now?”
“Hm?” He hums. “It’s casual.”
“Casual,” you repeat. “Like I said- erm- I’m sorry that I haven’t been around. My classes-,”
“Don’t lie to me,” Eddie’s eyes swell, and you fall deeper into the trap. “What’s happening to you?”
Okay, truth time.
“I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back,” you stretch out your top. “I even tried changing my look, but that seems pretty pointless now. But, I guess I just got tired of being compared to a boy.”
Eddie could faint. You're infatuated with someone so much that you changed your entire wardrobe. Guilt rubs at him.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie's denying what he already knows about himself. That if he kept comparing you to one of his guy friends that certain emotions couldn't grasp hold of the surface for air.
“Who's comparing you to a boy?”
He had to be sure.
“Seriously?” you frown. “Everyone. You. Gareth-,”
Confirmed.
“Is this about Gareth?” Eddie clenches his fist around the back of his chair. “I swear to God, I’ll pummel that little sack of shit.”
“Eddie,” you scold. “It’s not Gareth- never mind.”
“Wait, who’s the guy?”
You hum. “What?”
“You said you liked some guy?” Eddie pieces together. “It has to be one of us, right? I mean you stopped talking to all of us specifically, so which one of us is it?”
“That’s not important,” you suck in a breath. “Eddie, I’m doing homework.”
He snorts, the flips the page so he can read the question, “you’re doing it wrong.”
You roll your eyes. “Aren’t I usually the one who’s correcting you?”
“Gareth’s girlfriend has been helping me since you- never mind,” Eddie sees the tension in your jaw. “Okay, so to solve for E, you plug in this number here and then you take the square root there.”
You’re irritated, but Eddie is right and you mark your paper up how the equation should be.
“Thank you.”
“So, it’s Gareth,” Eddie presses on.
“What?”
“The boy you like that doesn’t like you back?”
“No,” you write another math equation out on your piece of paper. “Actually, Gareth liked me, and I didn’t feel the same.”
Eddie knows this, but he just needs to hear you say you don't like his friend.
“The plot thickens,” he gets comfortable. “Is it Jeff? Come on, Jeff is a catch.”
“Eddie, please drop it,” you beg.
Eddie throws a few more names out that you can ignore over your homework. But, slowly he begins to run out of ideas. You know where he’s going, and you’re not sure how to react when he says,
“It’s not me is it?”
Your pencil stops scribbling, and if you’re careful you can pretend to be thinking really hard about - what two plus two equals. Oh, damn.
“It is me.”
Those three little words trip you up more than Eddie’s jaw being on the floor right now. You stammer for a little too long. Tripping over the right words to say to him.
This is it.
The moment you’ll lose him for good.
You want him to just tear your heart from your chest and squeeze it until it pops. Make the pain of an aching heart go by so much faster.
“Mr. Munson,” Mr. Clark rose like a zombie from the afterlife. “Is there a reason that your seat is empty?”
Eddie whirled around. Still stunned, he replies,
“Uh. . . right, sorry.”
Without making too much noise, Eddie puts himself back into his original seat towards the front of the classroom. Fidgeting with his pencil, someone might mistake that he’s doing homework for the first time.
Eddie lives across the trailer park from you. How could he not see this coming? All the nights he's spent rescuing you from the clutches of your mom, who, despite being a wonderful host, has this unnecessary plea that you embrace your ‘femininity.’ That’s what you call it, he thinks.
Oh, and now to let you down.
Eddie’s seeing someone great. Roxie. She’s - she’s - she’s not as much of a slut as people say. And, he likes - no he loves that thing she does with her tongue.
Okay, he’s getting distracted.
You’re one of his closest and longest friendships he’s had. And now, you, have to go and change that.
Eddie’s mad. Angrier than angry. How dare you bring this to him.
Two months you kept away. You ran around the school like a chicken with your head cut off trying to avoid all of your loyal friends. And, you brought Robin into this mess?
Robin, at the very least, is a sweet and a neutral party. Okay? She doesn’t involve herself with anyone’s drama. She just sticks to the side of the drama like she's riding in a sidecar, and she takes notes. She lingers.
Eddie rubs his eye.
Maybe if you and he went on one tiny - the tiniest - date. As in, he doesn’t pay for food, kind of dates then you’ll get whatever you want out. You can go back to being friends, and Eddie can still see Roxie. Because, he likes Roxie.
He doesn’t like you like that.
Eddie wants nothing more than to forget the conversation you two just had. Yet, you’re lodged in his brain like a damn tumor. Yeah, a tumor. Growing at an alarming rate, he wants to smush your pretty little face. Not in a violent way - no, he’s not like that. He just wants to get out the tension, and - and hold you for a night? Does that make sense?
No, Eddie it does not.
Eddie wishes you didn’t smell so good today . . . and all the other days. If you smelled like an ogre, he could stop thinking about taking you on that ‘barely-call-it-a-date’ date. Although, if you were an ogre and you did smell as good as you do right now - ugh, that doesn't matter!
None of this matters. Why is he thinking like this?
In theory, he’ll take you somewhere romantic. To release you of your crush faster, he’ll spend the money - okay? He decides to break the bank for you.
Only once.
There’s a little spot outside of town that has the most delicious steak dinners. They have a dimly lit dining room, so Eddie wouldn’t have to see the dress you spent hours deciding on wearing. Your bare skin softened by the scented lotion you bought just for the night. He can hear your laugh like a song he knows by memory. You tilt your head back, exposing the flesh of your neck.
After your dinner, that he pays for - not you, he’ll walk you down the street where he parked his van earlier. He’ll have cleaned out and scrubbed the seats until every stain kicks the bucket. Driving you home, he’ll feel that knot in his chest that he knows from watching cheesy romantic comedy movies as practice for when that crap happens to him (he doesn't do that . . . shut up.). That knot tighten a little more by the time he gets to the trailer park. And, by the time he gets out of the car his fingertips start to shake.
Eddie will open your door, if he can get there before you. Taking your hand in his, he’ll feel the warmth of your skin against his. How right the moment feels. How nervous your breath is against his. How close you are to him. He’ll be the one to learn in first - you're too nervous to make that leap.
Lips as sweet as milk and honey. He would kiss you for a long time, always coming back for more. Eddie won't find himself getting enough of you. You’re touching his hair, and he melts.
Eddie will never want the night to end.
“Munson!”
Eddie doesn’t recall falling asleep. Yet, his eyes snap open. Mr. Clark’s slobbering from the side of his mouth. He’s so close that Eddie makes out the patches in his face where he’s forgotten to shave.
The classroom is emptying. He only catches a glimpse of you leaving.
“Go home, boy,” Mr. Clark begs. “You and I both know you don’t want to be here for any longer.”
No, Eddie does not.
In fact, Eddie would much rather be wrapped in your arms in either his bed or your bed.
Eddie shoves his notebook and his pencil back into his backpack knowing full well he heard something crunch unhappily in there. Racing out of the classroom, he sprints after you in the hallway.
But, you’ve already gone.
-> <-
tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia
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taevbears · 7 months
Text
Movie Night
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When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.
⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all
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“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”
The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.
The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.
The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.
Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.
You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.
“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.
“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.
You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.
But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.
Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.
Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.
Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”
“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”
You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”
He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”
You find yourself smiling back at him.
“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.
Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.
In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.
Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.
But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.
Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”
You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.
“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”
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When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.
His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.
The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.
The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.
Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.
And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”
On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.
As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.
Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”
One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.
He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.
Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.
“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.
“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”
You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”
It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.
“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.
“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”
“Yeah?”
You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”
Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.
“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”
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The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.
But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.
You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.
To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.
What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.
The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.
He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.
And in return, you told him that you loved him.
When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.
Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.
Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.
Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.
Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.
Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.
What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.
You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.
But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.
It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.
And from there, everything was history.
With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.
With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.
Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.
“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.
“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”
“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.
“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”
He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.
“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.
You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.
Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.
Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.
“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.
The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”
“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”
“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”
“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.
This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.
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“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 
The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.
“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.
Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”
“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”
Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”
He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.
“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.
From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.
Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.
Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.
“Tan!”
You know that voice. How could you not?
That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.
Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.
“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.
“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”
“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.
Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”
“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 
It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.
“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”
“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”
His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.
“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.
“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.
“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”
You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”
“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.
You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 
Why now?
What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?
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“I don’t like that guy.”
Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.
“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”
The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.
Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.
But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.
“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”
“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”
On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.
Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 
“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.
Silence follows the tension.
Then, you inquire, “Again?”
The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.
Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.
“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.
“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”
As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 
He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.
Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.
This Jungkook scares you.
Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.
“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.
You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.
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“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.
It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.
After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.
That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.
The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 
You don’t want to talk to him.
At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 
You don’t want to see him.
Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.
“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.
The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.
Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”
You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.
And you’re starting to see what he meant.
“I didn’t know where else to go.”
When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”
“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”
So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.
Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.
“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”
“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”
“There’s nothing going on between us.”
That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.
“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”
Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”
“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.
“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”
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Hey. It’s Jungkook.
You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.
Are we breaking up?
You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.
You scared me, Kook.
His response is immediate.
I thought you weren’t scared of anything.
You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.
Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.
Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.
I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.
You think about it.
I miss you. Bam misses you too.
Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.
Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.
But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.
Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.
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Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.
You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 
As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.
His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.
“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.
“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.
But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”
“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”
He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.
This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.
Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.
“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.
The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 
A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.
One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.
Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.
But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.
Your smile fades as the next scene shows.
The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.
You remember that night, but…
“Jungkook. When did you record this?”
You had no idea he was filming you then.
You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.
“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 
You feel so sick to your stomach.
“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”
But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.
The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.
It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.
The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.
How long has Jungkook known about you?
How long has he been targeting you?
It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 
“Jungkook, what the fuck?”
It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.
You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.
More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 
It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 
The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”
He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”
You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.
And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.
“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”
“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”
The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.
It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.
The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”
“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”
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Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!
1K notes · View notes
jeannineee · 9 months
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Could you do headcanons on the Bat Boys + Lucien and Eris where reader puts them on a sex ban? Like how would long would they last until they start basically begging reader to let them touch reader.
I feel like Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t last that long and start trying to find ways to get reader give in lol.
Sex Ban with the ACOTAR Men…
a/n: this was actually really funny to write
nsfw under the cut (18+ please)
Rhysand:
He’s lasting maybe a week. MAYBE.
Rhys would also be cocky enough to think that you weren’t serious about banning sex
And then he’d be shocked when you follow through
He’d pretend to be unbothered
But he’d quickly turn to endless flirting to try and make you change your mind—mostly with his daemati abilities.
You’d be at an inner circle meeting or at lunch with friends and he’d send mental images of him fucking you, or you on your knees for him, etc.
“I bet you miss feeling me inside you,” he’d say into your mind.
You’re not leaving the bedroom for a couple of days when you finally lift the ban
Cassian:
Poor Illyrian baby isn’t making it more than a single day
He has a high sex drive so this would be a nightmare for him LMAO
He definitely pouts. Not obnoxiously, but he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, placing wet kisses along the crook of your neck, murmuring how much he wants to feel you wrapped around his cock.
And when you say no, he continues telling you all the filthy things he wants to do you, smirking as he scents your arousal.
Tons of lingering touches—a kiss on the cheek, or a light squeeze on your ass as he walks by you.
When he’s finally had enough he’ll press his hardness into you from behind, practically whining.
And the way he nips at your ear makes it almost impossible to deny him.
Azriel:
He could wait for quite some time, honestly.
He has the self-control for it!!
However!! The longer you make him wait? The longer he edges you when you finally give in.
MAN he would have a field day when you finally lifted the ban.
He’d waste zero time in tying you up, be it with rope or his shadows.
For Azriel, he gets a lot of pleasure just from watching your pleasure. So he’d bring you to the edge, be it with his tongue, his cock, his fingers.
Only to pull away at the last moment. He wouldn’t stop until you’re begging him.
And boy does he love to hear you beg!!
Once he finally lets you come, he’s overstimulating you too.
He’s a lil mean but we love it.
Lucien:
Like Azriel, I feel like he could wait quite a while.
But he tries his absolute hardest to get you to break!!
Whispering what he wants to do to you when the two of you are at an important meeting or out in public, where you can do nothing about it.
Walking around the house shirtless—bonus points if he just finished showering or working out.
He definitely gets a bit more touchy than usual, constant hugs and kisses.
But when he’s finally had enough, this male is not above begging.
Good luck walking the morning after you finally give in ❤️
Eris:
He could go maybe two weeks before he becomes feral.
Definitely uses touch as a way to try and get you to give in.
Heated makeouts, his tongue exploring your mouth, as his thumbs caress your nipples; grinding against you, etc.
And then he’ll grumble when you deny him.
“Don’t forget how easily I can turn you into a mess,” he’ll say.
He definitely proves that statement when you end the ban!!
When you finally end the ban, he draws at least 3 orgasms from you back to back, and makes you beg for each one.
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faetreides · 1 month
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🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!
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cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes
patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts
consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!
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They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.
Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.
Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.
Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.
You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.
You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.
Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.
You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.
“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.
She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?
There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.
“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”
That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.
“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.
You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.
“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.
Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).
Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.
Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.
When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.
That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.
Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.
Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.
Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.
And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.
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- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai
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livingemkayde · 9 months
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en route
joel miller x f!reader (post outbreak) | 3.5k
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↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f!recieving, light choking, dom!joel, a mild enemies to lovers mixed with sunshine!reader and grumpy!joel miller. no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.
↳ a /n: hey guys...heres a little one shot in a followers/blog milestone celebratory fashion (!!!!!!!). this sort of turned into a one shot from the scrapped ideas regarding my new series. its also helping me gear up for taking on the task of beginning to write a new dynamic (i am definitely putting off completing chaser because i have an emotional attachment to that story BUT itll be out sometime this week). i love you all so, so, so much. you have no idea. thank you for everything (can you tell i live for a flashback fic).
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize.  He takes a step toward you. You take a step back.  “You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.” Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you.  “Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
You can’t stand him. 
You really can’t stand him. Hate is a strong word. Maybe not one you use often. But the disdain you feel for Joel Miller hinges to the breaking point each time you run into him. 
What a fucking asshole — you finally willed yourself to believe after weeks of kindness. It was practically seeping from your skin but it seemed to brush off his worn leather winter coat onto the fresh powder. It died there, and so did your hopeless attempts. 
“Hi,” you breathed out, that first fateful time. It was a surprisingly clear winter night. He had just moved in. The women were fawning over him, ogling, jaws dropping in the town square. You just observed and tried to keep your face neutral. As neutral as you can be. 
But Joel stood in front of you and just grunted in response. 
It made you try harder. 
“I brought these — made these for you,” you said, extending a pack of sandwiches for him and the girl you happened to see by his side. You figured she was with him. You traded a hell of a lot to get the meat for the sandwiches. But kindness and new neighbors seemed to fare well. At least in your very limited experience. 
“What is this?” he questioned. He didn’t take them from your hands. His fingers—big and rough and calloused, picked at the skin of its own. He didn’t take a step outside the threshold. You were suddenly unwelcome. You felt the weight of the sandwiches grow tiresome in your outstretched arm. 
“Sandwiches. Thought I’d say hello since you’re new around here,” you smiled, sort of shaking the pack, here — fucking — just take them, jesus. 
But he didn’t, and your arm grew tired, and so did your smile. 
“‘M good, thanks,” he mumbled in response, and shut the door in your face. 
And yes, of course he was handsome. He was — rugged — and you can see the wired muscles stretch the cotton of his shirt on patrol sometimes. In those especially unfortunate circumstances where Tommy has the nerve to pair you two up together. 
Handsome, yes. With a hulking bounding step over snow, and menacing shadow when he towers over you. A southern drawl—something so pitch-deep and honey-like, something you’ve never heard before. Not until you met him. And you were nursing a stupid hopeless crush over a guy you hate, but not really. And that drove you insane. 
Because he was fucking, rude, yes. Definitely. 
But you lost it. That last time you saw him. Because what’s worse was he wasn’t even being Joel Miller, his usually brooding self. He was being — nice? Kind? Funny? Maybe. You weren’t sure. You couldn’t hear much over the piercing ringing in your ears. 
“You like this route, Joel?” you said, peering over your shoulder at him on horseback. 
You tried to keep it up, the kindness, the fucking — benefit of the doubt bullshit. You really did. He seemed keen on it sometimes more often than not. 
“‘S fine,” he replied back in a rumpled, annoyed way. 
“You gotta see my favorite part,” you say, almost to yourself, almost forgetting about his dark drawl, only thinking about the meadow half a mile from the checkpoint. 
 He just snorted at that. You just tried to keep a happy face on. 
The songbirds twinkled around in the surrounding trees. The winter snow was receding, making the small dribble of water a full stream. You followed it, straying slightly from the beaten path, earning a couple protesting growls from Joel, but you ignored his pleas, and surprisingly, he just followed you. 
You got off your horse. Joel followed suit. You trudged across a little bend of water. He let out a scoff sounding more like a complaint each time he let one echo in the silence of the forest. 
“C’mon,” you said, smiling, that time, a real smile. Maybe this would make him smile too. 
You reached the crest of the small hill, hiked up your sleeves over your elbows, and bent down to touch the soft petals of the flowers beneath you. 
“Look,” you said, sending him a sideways glance behind you. He was still clamoring to the top of the hill. 
“Yeah, alright,” he groveled. You ignored him. 
Joel joined you at your side, his chest puffing slightly out of your skewed peripheral vision. 
“‘S beautiful, isn’t it?” you said to no one in particular. He didn’t respond. You didn’t expect him to. 
You bend down, picking a strewn orange flower blossom from the floor. Something broken off with the wind. 
“This what you do all day? Pick flowers?” he mumbled.
“Maybe,” you grinned, maybe you were finally getting him to crack, too. “And what do you do all day?”
“Not this,” he said, shaking his head. 
“Really?” you said, “Enlighten me. What does Joel Miller do everyday?”
“Joel Miller minds his business,” he replied, snarky, but he smirked. 
It made you a little scared, you remember. Maybe you were under some sort of falsehood that made hating Joel Miller easy. So when he actually talks to you, teases, follows you through the meadow, it seems a little intimidating suddenly. 
It’s different. 
It’s fucking weird. 
“Which one’s your — favorite,” he whispered, gesturing out to the field in a vague sort of motion with open palms. 
“Lilies,” you replied, tense. You pointed down at a brighter purple lily plant to your right. Joel’s eyes followed your hand. 
You wouldn’t dare look at him, but you could feel him moving beside you. He was in front of you suddenly, his indomitable presence made you turn your head and look up at him through the sunlight. 
He lifted his hand, in line with your ear. Your head backed away from it instinctually, but you kept a keen gaze on his eyes. 
Your brows knit together. So did his. Your mouth parted, almost speaking into the soft mountain air. But he moved his hand again, closer to your face. And you saw a flash of something orange. Like the little flower you picked up. He brushed those big calloused fingertips on your cheek, and slipped the orange flower between hair atop your ear. 
You were so confused, you didn’t know what to say. But it was bad. He was risky. You tried not to think of the fact that maybe, if he wasn’t so fucking rude, and you didn’t hate him so much, maybe that small little schoolgirl crush would blossom into something bigger. 
Because that’s all it was. A small, fucking stupid crush. He teases you. Pulls at your hair. Shoves you off the monkeybars. You put on a kind face anyways. 
And you hate him for that. Decidedly. 
“We should go,” you whispered. He dropped his hand. You both rode back in silence. 
That put you in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. And when you went to sleep and woke up this morning still in a horrible mood, you know exactly why. 
Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this. He can’t make you hate him and then pull the rug out from underneath you. Especially not with something as low as putting a fucking flower behind your ear.
You show up at the patrol meeting in an equally sour mood. 
And maybe, yeah, you are being irrational. But at this moment you couldn't care less.
You find the assignment board for next week and see your name card slotted under Joels.
“Perfect,” you huff, already moving quickly out of the building, saving your usual chit chatting for another time. Maybe when you’re less pissed off. 
“Hey,” a voice calls after you and you know. You could pick that voice out of a hundred recordings. It pulls you back, and you fight hard to keep moving forward. You’re close to your house already so you continue walking. 
He calls your name this time. 
You don’t falter in your huffing steps. 
“Stop,” he says, grabbing at your arm, pulling you around towards him. When he sees your face, he hesitates. Though the air seems a little humid and sticky, you wrap your arms around yourself. A shield. 
“What, Joel?” 
“You—left,” he breathes out, looking down to your body slightly. It’s unnerving, him making you squirm. 
“Yes. I’m leaving,” you roll your eyes, turning around again, but he locks hard onto your arm and pulls you back to him. 
“What’s—” you shake out of his grip, “what’re you doin’?”
“I’m going home,” you say, and then under your breath, “Obviously.”
“What’d you say?” He's a bit defensive now, maybe falling back into old habits. Back when things were so perfectly hostile between you two. 
“I’m going home, Joel,” you say, annoyed. “Is that okay with you?”
He doesn’t say anything. His mouth parts in confusion. You start walking again, this time, he lets you, falling in time with your steps next to you. 
“Are you alright?” he says, almost worried now. Your footsteps fall faster as you see your mailbox sneak into view.
“I thought Joel Miller minded his business,” you grumble under your breath. But loud enough for him to hear. You know it. You reach your porch, stepping onto it. The morning dew springs to life from the vibrations of your rough boot. 
“So you’re gonna throw a tantrum?” he growls, following you up, reaching the first step, you, on the top one. 
“Real mature,” you say, turning around, hands on hips. 
“Right,” he nods and looks down to his feet, “Ignoring people is mature?” 
“‘M not!” you say, looking down at him, throwing your hands out at your sides, “You’re right here talking to me!”
“Yeah ‘n I had to chase you down the fuckin’ street,” he extends one arm towards the road. 
“No one asked you to,” you bite, the venom sneaking past your lips. 
He doesn’t even flinch. 
“You wanna play that?” he mumbles. An empty threat at best. You hope. 
“No,” you say. Tears are already in your eyes. “No, I don’t wanna — fucking — do this anymore, Joel,” you whisper while unlocking the door and walking inside. It doesn’t shut behind you, not all the way. And you hear his boots follow you in. 
“The hell is your problem?” his voice echoes. He follows you in your house, to the skinny hallway which leads to your room. 
You spin around, pushing at his chest with a pointed finger. 
“You are my fucking problem,” you affirm. 
You crane your neck to look up at him. His hair is pushed back, like he just got out of the shower before attending the patrol meeting. His chest puffs in time with your rapid heartbeat. 
He doesn’t leave. He doesn’t say anything. 
“You’re—” he quirks his brow at your attempts, “you’re an asshole, Joel,” you finalize. 
He takes a step toward you. You take a step back. 
“You’re rude. And inconsiderate—” he smirks, it makes you more mad, “—and snarky and a jerk for no reason.”
Your back hits the hallway’s wall. He takes another experimental step towards you. 
“Okay. Yeah, keep going,” Joel breathes out, encourages, like you're amusing. “What else am I?”
“You’re —” your breath accidentally catches in your throat. He places his palm on the cold wall next to your head, leaning down closer to you. He’s fucking intoxicating. You’re drunk off his lowbrow and the curls that form at the base of his neck. What you wouldn't give to run your fingers through them right now—
“C’mon,” he chastises. His mouth is so close to yours, you keep switching between his eyes and his lips. 
“You’re an asshole,” you mumble. 
“Yeah?” you nod. “You already said that, baby.” 
Baby.
“Don’t stop,” his lips get closer to yours, “What else?” 
“You’re…” you look at his lips. He gets so close that his chest brushes up against yours. “You’re mean…and you’re arrogant.” 
You find it in you to put your open palms gently on his chest. You don’t find it in you to push him back. It’s not like you want to push him back though, not when all you need is to bring him closer. His breath punches gently on top of your nose. 
“Can I tell you what I think?” he grumbles, you shudder. He snakes his head down to whisper in your ear. His beard brushes the delicate skin on your neck. 
“I think,” his lips brush over the spot right under your ear. You breathe so hard you might get light headed. “You’re a pain in my ass,” the hand on the wall catches on your waist. You squirm against his body.
“With your distractions, and your sandwiches, and your little flowers,” he’s so close, he’s almost kissing you. He slots his thigh between yours. 
“Shut up,” you say, because that’s all you can say right now. The dark hallway encases him in the shadows. Even when he picks his head back up and looks into your eyes. 
“Careful,” he warns. 
You stay there, silence filling the air. Your shoulder blades dig into the wall there. 
“You need to learn some manners,” he mumbles, shaking his head, looking down at your lips. 
“I have manners,” you breathe, admittedly a little shaky, “just not for — fucking —”
“Not for what?” He smirks. 
“Not for you,” you push against his chest again. He doesn’t flinch. 
“Yeah?” something in his tone makes you fight harder, “You gonna be a bad girl?” 
“Shut up,” you say, because you don’t trust yourself. You brace yourself against the wall in a desperate attempt not to whine. He’s making you slip. You silently chastise yourself. What happened to ‘Joel Miller doesn’t get to do this’?
You suppose all rational thought flies out the window when his roughed hands land on you. 
“You can be a bad girl,” he said, pushing his fingers under your shirt. They’re surprisingly warm. You fight the urge to groan. Your eyes flicker down to your bodies touching and drag them back to his eyes. “I’ll teach you how to be a good girl, too.”
“Fuck,” you whisper, half under your breath. Joel’s eyes dance with yours, flickering from your lips to your left eye, to your right. Your nose, your eyebrows. Then back down to your parted mouth. You’re fighting a losing battle, you both are. You had no chance of winning it. Not even in the slightest, not at all. And you both know it. 
So, fuck. 
You kiss him. You learn forward, as much as the space between you will allow, and kiss him. He smells like pinewood, and fresh soap, and something smokey. He almost tastes sweet. His fingers splay across your waist. You feel the tips of them dig in there. You fight the urge to groan when you shift on top of his thigh slotted between your legs. 
He hauls you into your bedroom, you sink down on the bed. He takes off his flannel. He’s slow, in his movements, almost like he’s teasing you.
Punishing you. 
“Joel,” you say. You hate how you sound so whiny, so desperate. But after all, maybe you are desperate for him. 
“Sit back,” is all he says, in that honeyed drawl. 
You do. 
Joel stands in front of your slightly open legs, playing with the hem of your shirt in his fingers. 
Contemplating. 
“You gonna be a good girl?” he mumbles, his eyebrows furrow. He doesn’t look at you, just raises your shirt up slightly. 
And you know what? You don’t have an explanation for it. But you just say it—
“Yes,” while looking up at him. The salt and pepper on his patchy beard. His hardened brow and quirked lip. His fingers drift from the hem of your shirt up, up, up. Until his thumb grazes your nipple and you moan at the feeling. 
“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, his thumb playing at your chin, your bottom lip. Your hands dig into the comforter at his words. Your bottom jaw slowly falls under the weight of his singular thumb. 
He pushes in, tugging your mouth open. You suck his finger obediently. 
“‘S good—baby,” he whispers so low under his breath you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. 
You look up at him through your lashes, he pushes you back with his hand in your mouth until you’re laying flat on the bed. 
“Take off your clothes,” he says, pulling back his hand. While he shucks off his shirt, you undress frantically. 
You snap your legs shut when your panties are finally off. The cold air bites at your ankles. 
He nudges them apart until he’s slotted in between your open thighs. Your cunt stares back at him, glistening. 
He runs his hands along your frame, kneading at the skin on your thighs. His fingers, big and rough and calloused—but it feels fucking good. 
“Fuck—” you puff out, reaching for him, “I—”
He puts his finger up to his lips. Quiet. He says. 
You listen. 
“Just let me—” he says, drifting off when his fingers brush over your cunt. “Jesus—baby,” he mumbles, running his thumb through your slick. You moan and whine against his hand. 
“Joel,” you say again. Pleading. 
“I know,” he is all he says before twisting his hand and slipping a thick finger into your cunt. You gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and at the cotton beneath you. His free hand comes up near your neck, resting there. Not really doing anything.  
“You’re loud,” he points out, pumping out, adding a second because you’re so wet. You moan, gasp, whimper.
“’N you never fuckin’ listen.” he mumbles, looking at his fingers pumping out of you. 
“I do—” 
He shuts you up with a strong hand wrapping around your neck. Not enough pressure to really do anything, but enough pressure to cut your words short halfway garbled into an excuse. 
“Is that what you needed?” he groans, straining against his boxers, rutting up against your thigh. “Needed someone to tell you what to do?” 
You’re close. You moan. He thumbs at your clit. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering into his ear. His hand finds yours, pinning it back to the gray cotton there. 
“You needed me, baby?” he drawls.
Just when you’re about to come, he stops. Your eyes widen, he’s breathing heavily, his fingers are statues deep inside you. 
“Joel—just, fucking—” you whine. He starts pulling his fingers out, receding away from you. “No—fuck, please, I—please,” you reach for him. 
He looks at you. You whimper. 
“I—fuck—I needed you,” you whisper. And you think to yourself that it’s true. “I need—you.”
His face goes soft. 
“Okay,” Joel breathes, pulling out, but reaching down to take himself out of his boxers. Your legs part silently. “Fuck, angel. Okay.” 
He guides himself through your folds, you squirm underneath him. He mumbles something into your ear but you can’t focus on anything besides he dull stretch when he pushes past your walls. He’s stretching you out already, just the tip. But the pain feels surprisingly good. 
“God, Joel,” you whine. He goes slow. Excruciatingly slow. 
“You—” he eases into you. He groans against your hair. “You’re — fuck.”
“Shit,” you curse out, he slips into you all the way, until his hips are flush with you. “Shit—you feel f-fucking good.”
He stays like that for a bit, letting you mold around him. He pants into your ear. You scratch designs into his back. Memorabilia for when he returns back to his house and gets a good look in the mirror. You grasp at the curls at the nape of his neck. They’re soft. Just like you thought they might’ve been. 
He pulls out—almost all the way. And then thrusts back in. You both gasp into each other’s mouths. 
“Goddamn — tight, fuck,” he says, finding a pace that elicites the most unintelligible moans from you and sets it. He’s rough—but not too rough. And he’s hitting that spot that inches you further to a pulling blinding light. 
“Good, fucking girl—” he moans, he holds himself up above you with a strong hand next to your head. “You’re doin’ so—fuck—so good, pretty girl.”
Maybe it’s the pretty girl. Or his praise, or his cock punching deep inside you, so deep that you can feel him in your fucking stomach, but you get closer. Tighter around him. He can feel it too. 
“Joel—gonna—ngh—” you whimper. He hikes your leg over his hip, hitting something deeper. 
“C’mon, angel,” he groans, “lemme — ah — lemme f-feel you.” 
He drags it out of you, your muscles pull taut and your vision pulls white and he keeps going through it all. You moan, whimper, maybe even yell. But he keeps up his relentless pace. You dig your fingers in his back, marking him with little crescents to go with all the rest of them. 
“Fuck—fuck,” he pants, his hips stuttering while you clench around him. 
He thrusts into you, one, two, three more times, your aftershocks sending towards his release. 
He lets out a broken groan spilling into you, rocking his hips with each pulse of his cock. “Shit,” he says, gripping your waist, “You — jesus, fuck.”
Joel collapses down next to you. He cleans you up, too. You both drift off to sleep. He kisses your forehead in between a floating, dreamless slumber. 
Somewhere between then and dinner he leaves, mumbling in your ear. You’re too tired to wake up and walk him to the door. And when you wake up, and make your way downstairs you spot it, sitting pretty on your front porch through the glass. 
A little makeshift bouquet, with fraying string wrapped around two stems.
Lilies.
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Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!
Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior
Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver
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Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool
Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)
When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from
Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom
But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god
Mhm totally normal
Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:
Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES
Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this
Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate
Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that
Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing
Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else
You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal
Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)
I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war
And now the three of you were together! How lovely!
Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so
He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of
And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again
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Wait what?
What do you mean with that?
Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?
Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him
Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"
Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness
After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)
One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."
Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)
Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises
Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second
But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point
That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying
I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure
And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation
I'm letting you imagine what happened
Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family
The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)
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A second of silence
And then the screaming started
“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”
Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised
You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly
But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?
Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this
Totally not jealous
He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you
But he was happy as long as you were
After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather
So of course he couldn't be family with you
That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you
Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?
Ouch… that punch must have hurt
Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person
Don't let his loud mouth fool you
This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family
For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever
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ctrlchar · 4 months
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thinking about high sex with johnnie😮‍💨 i love your fics btw🙏
lit up
a/n:YESSSS it would be so intimate and shit,also i wrote this high so if it’s a little off yk why😭
you and johnnie were sitting outside at his and Jake’s shared house. his lighter lied flat on the table as he took a large hit from the joint he had just lit before passing it to you.
bringing it to your lips you take in a smaller breath before breathing out the smoke, johnnie exhaling by the time you inhaled
“have you ever shotgunned before” he asks as he takes a hit from the joint between his fingers.
you shook your head no at his question sure you had seen it be done but you hadn’t tried it yourself.
he nods as he breathes the smoke out before handing the roll between his fingers to you. he tells you to take a hit and then blow the smoke into his mouth,soon after you bring the joint to your lips.
you took a hit and did as Johnnie said,you slowly exhaled into his mouth your lips barely touching.once you had pulled apart he inhaled before exhaling once again.
the two of you repeated this several times,giggling at ‘how close your lips were yet so far away’
by now the there was about quarter left and you and johnnie were already pretty fucked up and therefore decided to ash it before putting it back in a swishers bag
“m’ hungry” you say to johnnie as you stumble through the patio door that lead to the kitchen.
he follows you into the kitchen wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you while you searched the kitchen for food.
it’s not until then you feel his hard cock poking against your back side making you turn around with a giggle.
with his hands on your waist you placed your around his neck before pulling him into a passionate kiss.
the kiss grew more intense as the effects of the weed had now fully kicked in. after a couple more moments he pulled away,his lips were slightly swollen and he had a dazed look in his eyes
you had been pressed against the counter as johnnie tapped the sides of your thighs signaling for you to sit up on the counter.
you sat atop the counter before pulling johnnie into yet another kiss,this one more sensual and needy.
his lips trailed from your mouth to your neck as he began to suck gently on your sweet spot,leaving a hickey as he then slid his hands up your shirt resting them on your waist
“can i take this off baby?” he asks looking up at you to which you nod. he slides the shirt over your head,your breasts now visible to him. He groped your tits before placing small kisses down them.
you moaned softly before you softly spoken “johnnie please” you whined “i need you”
your words were enough for him to quickly rid himself of his pants as you did the same. he pulled your panties to the side,sliding his cock between your folds. coating his cock with your slick.
you let out a moan as he slowly slid into you,one of your hands holding onto the counter while the other held onto johnnie’s hair.
“feels so good” he practically whimpers into your ear as he burries his head in the crook of your neck.
the weed coursing through your veins heightened every feeling. you almost felt like you were floating as your boyfriend continued to ram his cock in and out of you.
your body began to grow limp as you told Johnnie you were close,which he could tell judging by the way you clenched around him.
it was so sloppy and you loved every second of it,you couldn’t tell if you loved him so much or if you were just really really high but johnnie looked ethereal,his hair sticking to his forehead as he kept rutting his hips in and out of you, the kitchen light behind him shadowing some of his features
within seconds you came all over Johnnie’s cock a loud moan eliciting as he came deep inside you,his cum dripping out of you and onto the surface below.
he pulled out despite you still clenching around him,his hands at your puffy cunt as he let the cum pool on his fingers before sliding it back inside of you
he then begins to pepper kisses along your thighs until he gets into his knees, his chin resting in between your legs as he looks up at you with needy eyes practically begging for you to give him just one more orgasm
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angelkhi · 10 months
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lavender haze - a.a
pairing: abby anderson x f!reader
summary: you find yourself at abby anderson's house party, turns out she's a really attentive host. (no outbreak au)
warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI) mentions of alcohol (they both have like 1 beer, 2 max) and smoking, abby (she's a warning), owen (he's a trigger warning let's be real), fingering, pet names (pretty girl, baby), semi-public sex, biting, slightly mean abby but like in a hot way.
word count: 2.5k
a little note: first abby fic, low-key nervous👀 not beta’d cause i’m sleepy. part two to little miss sunshine is coming but also i’m being lazy. anyways this is for my fellow girl kissers, love u bye x
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A heavy beat thumps through the floor as you move through the crowded kitchen. Flashing lights and grinding bodies envelope your senses and you grip your bottle a little tighter, pushing through the crowd until you're practically tumbling out of the back door.
You round the corner, finding comfort in the shadows and take a deep breath. The evening breeze and cool brick soothes your warm skin, the slight drip of condensation from your bottle dripping down your fingers.
You hadn't expected to spend your Saturday evening amongst a sea of sweaty bodies and smoke, but Ellie had forced your hand, refusing to let you spend another weekend cooped up on the sofa.
The same Ellie who had conveniently ducked out on you the second she saw Dina.
You're no stranger to this type of thing, but recently the solitude of your home has outweighed any desire to go out partying. Even now, in the throes of it all, a minute alone away from it feels good. You tilt your head back, eyes closed trying to extract just a moment of calm from the screeching and playlist of 90's throwbacks.
"Hey stranger."
Even in the dim light you can tell she looks good. A tight black tee stretches across her broad shoulders, moulding to her trim waist. Her arms bulge slightly when she takes a sip from her beer, eyes never leaving yours.
"Hey Abs."
Abby Anderson. Friend by proxy, craved by default. She'd worked her way into your silly little brain the day she met you with her coy smiles and rasping voice. You still remember her knocking at your bedroom door, her body taking up most of the frame as she asked for the code to the wifi.
Why Ellie couldn't just give it to her you don't know, but you couldn't complain. She'd hunched over your shoulder, repeating every digit bsck to you as she typed it into her phone. Then, before she left she gave you a simple friendly pat on the thigh and said “thanks pretty girl” with one of those half tipped smiles.
You spent the nights following face down in your pillow, riding your fingers imagining it was her strap pushed deep inside you.
She continues watching you, skin tinted purple and half concealed by the shadows. The silence stretches to an almost uncomfortable width between you and you clear your throat.
“Nice party.” Maybe you should’ve stayed silent. Abby just shakes her head and smiles, clearly amused by your futile attempts at conversation. For a while she just stands there, nursing her bottle, always watching you.
“You’ve been avoiding me?” She speaks after a moment. Abby loves this, making you squirm. Making statements and disguising them behind questions. You take a special interest in your scuffed shoes avoiding her gaze, because beneath her insufferable cockiness, she’s not lying.
Being in her presence alters your brain chemistry piece by piece until all that swirls around you there is Abby Abby Abby. Still you don’t give her the satisfaction of an answer, settling on shrugging your shoulders instead.
She takes a step closer and suddenly the brick against your back feels icy rather than soothing. You’re trapped beneath her gaze and her slow approach.
“C’mon pretty girl, you not gonna give me an answer?” There she goes again with that pretty girl. Questions that aren’t really questions. Maybe if she was less everything you’d be able to function like a regular human being around her.
“No apologies? No sorry for making you miss me Abby, huh?” She’s so ridiculously close to you now, making her demands. She’s putting her cards down on the table, waiting, pushing until you pull and unravel the thread between you two.
“What are you doing Abs?” You feel the ghost of her knuckles tracing your arm, leaving a burning fire in their wake. She takes another step closer, until your shoes bump one another.
“Tell me to stop.” She puts her bottle down, resting her now empty palm against the brick, inches above your head. “You tell me right now to turn around and walk back into that party and I will.”
“I-“
She’s everywhere. In your dreams when you sleep, on your mind when you wake. And now she’s here. In the flesh. She smells like pine and alcohol, sweet with a bitter edge, grounding you in what you’re struggling to believe is reality. Your words die on your lips. Of course you don’t want her to leave, you’d do just about anthony to make her stay.
“Hm, that’s what I thought.”
Her broad nose nudges your cheek, cold against your burning skin. She presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, a taunting smirk lighting up her features as you keen for more. Her forefinger and thumb grip your chin ever so lightly, eyes trained on your lips, making you stew in the unrelenting tension.
Finally, her lips touch yours, slow and exploring at first, as though she wants to savour the moment as much as you do.
Her hands grip the glass bottle as your hands go lax at your sides, placing it next to hers on the old rusting barbecue.
Then her hands are on your hips, rough yet soft, commanding your movements and giving you the chance to back away all at once. You don’t.
Abby has never been a patient person. She always takes what she wants when she wants it. You can’t complain though, she does it do damn well. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your body. Abby Anderson is kissing you, not in some dream where she evaporates into the harsh morning sun, not in some shower time fantasy that runs up your water bill. She’s here. Tangible. Kissing you.
She tastes faintly of mint and cheep beer, her soft tongue moving harshly against yours as she all but claims you in a kiss. Her thumbs stroke the soft skin of your stomach, the rough pads of her fingers a source of electricity.
You rest your hands in the nape of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer. Her soft blond hair tickles your fingertips and when she nips your lower lip, your back arches, moulding you perfectly into her.
Her thumb strokes just above your bellybutton, small torturous circles sending your stomach into spasms and your thighs clenching. It’s impossible to stay as calm and collected as her, especially as she pops the button on your jeans, taking her sweet sweet time to pull down the zipper.
Her lips suckle on the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a pretty purple mark. It’s so visible, unable to be hidden by your shirt. No matter where you go tonight, everyone will know that Abby Anderson has claimed your body. Not that she didn’t already own your mind and soul.
Her rough fingers, tracing the your damp cotton panties, not giving your enough pressure to truly feel her. But she’s there. So close to where you need her.
“Please.” Your voice is quiet and hoarse, every function of your being focused on getting Abby to touch you. You desperately push your hips into her, gasping from the small bit of pleasure that’s not nearly enough to give you relief.
She pouts at you, removing her hand entirely and you wonder how she could be so cruel and give you so much at the same time.
You’re surprised you don’t fold there and then, that single touch enough to have you needling against her lips. She presses her fingers against your sensitive clit, rubbing in small circles, trailing down to your sipping hole and back up. She keeps you like that for a while, on the edge of pleasure, desperate and doe eyed all for her.
Maybe it’s the way you whisper her name like a prayer, or the soft dazed glint in your pretty eyes, but she relents sliding a finger inside of you right to the knuckle, pressing her lips against yours to quieten your soft sounds.
You grip the tight material of her shirt, anchoring yourself to her as you get lost in her taste, her scent, her sounds.
“More. Please Abs. Need to feel you.” She didn’t think it would take so little to get you babbling like this, half way to sinking into her like a rag doll. She presses another of her digits into you, groaning as your tight wet channel greedily sucks her in.
“You’re so good for me baby.” Her lips are warm and soft against your cheek when she pecks you, a stark contrast to the images she has of you floating around her head, or the way her hand moves between your legs.
“Gonna let me stretch you open, ruin this perfect little cunt?” Another demand. One that has you clamping down on her. You nod, the only words on your lips her name. Abby Abby Abby over and over.
The pads of her fingers nudge something inside of you when she curls her fingers, palm smacking your clit with the force of her thrusts. She actually chuckles when your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth opens. You look so pretty like this, bent to her will.
She alternates her thrusts, keeping you panting from her unforgiving pace one moment and whining from the slow grinds the next.
But it’s not enough for her, for either of you. Her hands make quick work of helping you yank your t-shirt up and bra down, exposing you to any prying eyes.
The image would startle anyone, Abby’s build frame hunched over you, her hand down your trousers as she sucks at your exposed breasts, barely concealed by the shadows, not even 10 steps from the porch.
"Such perfect tits." The light breeze picks up slightly, brushing over your sensitive nipples, wet with Abby's spit.
“Abby, fu-uck” Your voice breaks off into a harsh moan when her teeth sink into your flesh. It’s barely enough to hurt, but it leaves a small mark, like her own personal claim on you. You buck your hips further into her hand, almost buckling when the rough callous of her thumb presses against your clit.
She has some type of power over you. The kind where your brain takes a while to catch up with the rest of you, leaving you to blurt out stupid things.
“Imagined you fuckin me dumb on your strap, making me take it.” Your breath catches in your throat when her wrist flexes, changing her angle slightly. “Feels so good.”
A triumphant grin breaks out on her face and she tilts her head slightly, swallowing down her own moan.
"You think about me when you're playing with this pretty cunt of yours?" She whispers, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Don’t go all quiet on me now.”
You’re a babbling incoherent mess, bent to her will. Your body moves as one with hers, your lips move when she tells you, your brain turns to mush as she wishes. In this moment you’re hers. All you can do is nod.
“Did you leave your door open on purpose? You want me to catch you lookin so pretty with your ass in the air, huh? Whining my name like a bitch?” There’s a condescending edge to her voice that spurs you on more than you’d like to admit.
Any initial embarrassment you’d felt is washed away the instant you realise that she had enjoyed it just as much as you. Abby Anderson enjoyed perving on you as much as you enjoyed the thought of her using you into the mattress.
“You love it don’t you, knowing I watched you fuck yourself.” You can’t contain the whine that bubbles up and out of your throat, paying no mind to the fact that someone could be listening.
She laughs again.
“Yeah, you fuckin do.”
You rest your hands on her stomach, her muscles rippling beneath your fingers with each precise movement. You let your hands roam, wondering if she'd let you pin her down and rub your puffy clit against each perfectly sculpted ridge.
"Abby!" a voice calls from somewhere around the corner, "Abs where are you?"
Your head turns quickly, seeking out the disembodied voice in the dimly lit garden. You should push her away, maybe pull your shirt down and have some decorum. But of course she’d never let you, instead pressing her body closer to yours, keeping you exactly where she wants you.
“No no no, eyes on me, thats it pretty girl.” Her fingers grasp your chin, forcing your eyes away from where the vaguely familiar voice had called out to her.
The sound of her fingers fucking into your messy cunt is downright filthy, drowned out only by the spike in music when someone steps outside. You grip her braid when she hunches over, tongue flicking at your nipples again. Her lips are soft yet torturous when she suckles on them, pulling wanton moans from you.
She hooks her fingers, grinding her palm down on your clit, shifting her other hand from your chin to your lips, muffling your cries.
“He doesn’t get to see you like this.” Your nails dig into her biceps when her pace becomes bruising. “C’mon baby, use me, cum all over my hand.”
You have no choice to comply. There’s no way you couldn’t when you’re practically riding her hand, her thick fingers so perfectly hitting every spot you need them. She pushes her palm flat against your sensitive clit, teeth scraping lightly over the marks on your tits and you’re done for.
You press your hips into her hand, riding out your orgasm as the world becomes a little hazy, a slight ringing in your ears as you all but gush all over her palm.
Gazing up at her barely illuminated face, she looks about as wrecked as you feel. Her pretty cheeks are tinted pink and her lips are a swollen cherry red. She looks so pretty like this. A slight bit of jealously sets in your stomach when you consider anyone else seeing her like this. It’s stupid but it should be for you and you only.
She presses her sweet lips to yours, letting you grind down on her once more and removes her fingers from your wrecked panties. The kiss is messy, the two of you moaning into each others mouths like there isn’t a party going on a few feet away.
She pulls back, only slightly, enough to take in your half lidded gaze and swollen lips. Her thumb traces your bottom lip as she mutters under her breath "fucking Owen," listening to him call out her name but making no effort to move.
When his voice grows closer she steps away from you, sighing. He's not going to let up. She tentatively pulls your shirt down and helps you fix your trousers, pressing small kisses to your cheeks.
"Come find me later, yeah?" It's not so much a request as it is a command. One you find yourself easily obliging to.
Then she's gone, stepping into the glow of the purple lights, surrounded by tendrils of swirling smoke from someone's cigarette. She follows Owen for a few paces and pauses.
She's nonchalant when she turns to you and presses her fingers to her tongue, sucking your slick from them with a barely there smirk.
You watch as she follows Owen inside, leaving you slumped against the wall, jeans unbuttoned, body just as hot as when you stepped outside.
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in conclusion i love my wife 🫶🏾 (also hc/drabble recs are open for now 😘)
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ryanseslow · 30 days
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How to Create Paper Cut-Out Reliefs: Tips and Techniques for Beginners
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Back again with another lil' series of 2D wall relief paper cut-out forms. Both of the pieces below follow the same process and technique. Im really happy with the process and outcomes. Im working on animating them as we speak. I'll add them to this post later. My paintings inspire my drawings, and my drawings are inspired by those same forms found in my paintings. It makes sense that every so often I want to make those forms "pop out" and off the surface of a flat plane. Alas, it all starts with a quick sketch. See below, just a series of light loose free flowing lines take the lead, forward ->
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Here we have a dude posing for a profile style portrait. Most likely, this is inspired by the NYC B-Boys from the years 1983 - 87ish. Either way, it's nostalgia for me. Once the sketch feels good, I'll break out the paper and x-acto knife. I keep telling myself that one day Ill work with another material other than paper for these works, perhaps wood or metal.. It will happen, I can foresee it for sure, hang in there. Im using a white bristol paper for the cut outs, I believe it is the vellum type and not the glossy, but either or will work just fine. I love to cut paper and the whole medium of paper art in general.
Paper cut-outs, also known as paper cutting or Kirigami, is a traditional art form that involves cutting shapes and designs out of paper. The history of paper cutting can be traced back to ancient China and Japan, where it was practiced as a folk art. The Chinese and Japanese would create intricate designs, often featuring animals, plants, and mythical creatures, and use them as decorations for festivals and special occasions. I always loved it and have felt inspired by these pieces.
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Using the sketch above, I apply the "map" of the shapes and forms that I see. Sometimes I redraw those forms on the paper that I will cut out, and sometimes I just "draw" with the x-acto knife to recreate the forms. Sometimes, it's a combination of both of those techniques. There is also a series of "out-take / byproduct" cut outs that do not make the final piece, those can be saved and used for the next piece, obviously!
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I layer the forms on top of each other to compose the arrangement as a whole, its fun to watch it all come together, in the next phase, you will need some kind of durable tape or you can make little paper forms that can be pasted to both sides of the forms as they stack, this will create the gauge and depth of the piece once it is placed onto the wall.
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This is the final composition above, I love it! I used a roll of duct tape to make small cylinder forms that connect the pieces together, the piece as a whole comes "off of the surface of the wall" by about 1.5 - 2" inches - you can play with this a bit but keep in mind, the tape makes the piece heavier and it will want to comply with gravity :)
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I hung the piece (also temporarily adhered via the same duct tape) for the photoshoot and to also get a good look at how it will function on the wall. I have an old painted fire place in my studio that is a great surface for hanging things, I love the contrast of textures between the bricks and the paper, as you know, the shadows will be super cool to see too.
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Once I had the whole piece constructed I took a few pictures of it. I immediately wanted a clean vector line drawing of the whole character. I brought the photo into adobe Fresco and used a vector brush to draw this lovely variation. This is how my brain works, I switch paths because I know they are really pipelines to the "next thing" that I will push this to, so forward we go.
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Then, it was light source and photo shoot time. Im not really happy with these picture as traditional "photographs" as I know I can do a much better job, but, as a series of "sketches" for a planned photo shoot, these will really help to make those plans a reality. I love neon colored lights. I have a bunch of them from various places and spaces that I found on the internet. Amazon has a great selection of flashlights with various colored light options. Get a few and play around with how the light can effect your work and the shadows that it creates. This is where the depth and gauge of your pieces play a role. The photos below are also a part of the same session, which all took place over a few days.
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Here is another variation with a different character.. What do you think? Shall I make more?
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saturnsbabyboii · 1 year
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The Black Moon Lilith in the signs and houses (Our core fear, inner saboteur, healing and transformation)
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Note: I heavily use the work of Laura Walker’s book that I will reference. I used her wording and point of view from the book because she worded better than I could. So don’t come for me with any plagiarism crap. Thank you.
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"power comes from strife"
                                                 ୧‿︵‿୨
Black Moon Lilith operates on unseen levels. It pertains to hidden information, exposes secrets, and brings our core and primary fears to light. Fears from our shadow side cause us to undermine ourselves, and even others. Black Moon Lilith is the lingering feeling that stabs your consciousness and triggers you; If you don't listen to it, you'll grow vicious and paranoid of others and yourself.
My interpretation of the shadow is that it is the home of our primal fear. A fear that has significant power in our lives. It is based on primal, instinctual levels and operates on survival principles. The primary fear is a primary motivator for many of our life decisions.
In the book "The Astrology of the Black Moon: A Guide to Healing the Shadow Side" (Walker, 2011)
╔══════════════ ⛧ ══════════════╗
The writer identified the twelve signs and their innate and core fears:
ARIES: fear of unworthiness
Theme: The Shadow of Success
Primary Fear: fear of unworthiness
Self-judgment: how well one performs or measures up
Issues: success; identity; questions about inherent value, self-esteem, and merit
Projection: others‟ success and worthiness are based on what they have attained or accomplished
Goals: to not compare yourself to others; to not measure personal success by anyone else standards, to value yourself as a unique expression of the Creator, therefore, creating self-esteem
Manifestation: The Black Moon in Aries manifests in the intense quest to be valued and feel worthy. However, a deep-seated feeling of unworthiness is in conflict with this quest, often causing beneficial opportunities to be passed up. In life, we are only able to receive what we think we deserve, and when we feel undeserving, we will avoid or reject people, jobs, or options that we feel are too good for us. Self-sabotaging behavior often occurs with the Black Moon in Aries. There can also be a need to prove ones worthiness to others, even in the form of subtle bragging. The Black Moon in Aries staunchly defends itself and rejects anything that does not fall in line with its ideas and beliefs. 
Healing and Transcending:
With the Black Moon in Aries, the belief in inherent unworthiness must be faced. Simply by virtue of being born, we are entitled to and worthy of the joys of life. If All is One, then none are less than others. Each of us carries a spark of the Divine - none are excluded. Healing occurs when we are able to see ourselves as successful and worthy because we are a child of the Universe. When we recognize this, we understand that all other gauges are external and superficial. By holding ourselves in high regard, we naturally align with our highest and best.
Examine where you have settled for less than you wished.
Ask yourself what you would do if somehow, magically, a wand was waved and you were deemed worthy. Strive to connect with this vision. 
Ask yourself how much the appearance of success plays in your life. 
Ask yourself what you are always trying to win. When you discover the answer, decide if you really want it. Is it worth the effort? By practicing the awareness that you do not have to be the best in every situation, you will come to a natural state of internal balance.
Black Moon in Aries: Johnny Cash, Kurt Cobain, Albert Einstein, Elizabeth I, Mahatma Gandhi, Michael Jackson, Prince, Vladimir Lenin, Mary Queen of Scots, Justin Bieber, Katy Perry, Mark Zuckerberg
Black Moon in the 1st House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to how we feel about ourselves. The shadow side is ingrained in how we use our personal energy, what motivates us and our sense of overall wellbeing. Personal appearance or the way we appear to others is often a major concern. If the shadow is heavily in control, our behavior patterns will strongly reflect it. This placement of the Black Moon is intensely personal and our shadow issues will have a dramatic impact on our lives. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is the vast amount of personal energy at our disposal. This level of energy can produce fantastic healers and immensely creative individuals. We can accomplish monumental feats and have an uncanny ability to turn “negatives” into “positives.”
TAURUS: fear of scarcity
Theme: The Shadow of Security
Primary Fear: fear of scarcity
Self-judgment: how secure/safe one is by the level of comfort
Issues: having enough to feel safe; compulsive consumption; insecurities
Projection: the tendency to criticize others for being lazy, irresponsible (especially with money), or unconventional
Goals: to not fill the void with “things,” to stretch beyond your comfort zone
Manifestation: With Black Moon in Taurus, the more we have, the more comfortable we feel. In turn, the more comfortable we feel, the safer we think we are. With this placement, there is an intense need to feel comfortable because there is a generalized feeling of being unsafe in the world. The Black Moon in Taurus manifests in an almost insatiable desire to consume and accumulate possessions, money, or anything that makes us feel safe and secure. However, no matter how much we acquire, it will never be enough because the void that we are trying to fill cannot be filled in this way. It may be filled momentarily, but the core feeling of insecurity will soon return. Oftentimes, the end result of this constant attempt to satisfy the fear of not having enough is the accumulation of debt, weight, or responsibilities – usually the exact things we are trying to avoid. With this placement of the Black Moon, there is an intense need to feel satisfied. Insecurities are held very deeply and there is tremendous fear of others knowing those insecurities. 
Healing and Transcending:
The belief that the world is unsafe must be confronted. Integrating the idea that we have all that we need inside is what heals this shadow. When we build on who we really are inside, we no longer need to accumulate possessions to feel secure. When we accept that all is going according to a divine plan, we no longer need to fear the events of the world. No matter what, each of us always returns to our Source. This is the security that Black Moon in Taurus seeks.
Cut back on whatever is filling the void. This will bring immediate discomfort and it will leave you with time on your hands. It is important to learn how to “not do” – to become comfortable with stillness. The next time you feel the need to take on more, buy more, or eat more, go and sit by yourself and put on some music, read, practice yoga or throttle down in some way. By practicing being still when you are most uncomfortable, you will be feeding your inner world and requiring less from the outer world.
Black Moon in Taurus: J.S. Bach, Patsy Cline, Howard Hughes, Abraham Lincoln, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Wilhelm Reich, Henry David Thoreau, Vincent van Gogh, Lady Gaga, Kanye West, Lana Del Rey, Bruce Lee, Celine Dion,  Joseph Stalin
Black Moon in the 2nd House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to how secure we feel. Financial considerations seem to plague us. The shadow side blurs the lines between emotional needs and material/financial needs; attitudes toward partners can hinge on security issues. The shadow side is ingrained in our value systems, which can at times seem at odds with our behavior. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is the generous, comfortable feeling we engender in others, resulting in many meaningful, lasting interpersonal relationships. People truly enjoy being with us, finding us not only charming but disarming.
GEMINI: fear of rejection
Theme: The Shadow of Acceptance 
Primary Fear: fear of rejection 
Self-judgment: how one compares to others 
Issues: whether others approve or disapprove 
Projection: labeling others as selfish; distaste for people who fail to do “the right thing” 
Goals: to not care if people like or want you, to not compare yourself to others, to express your individuality 
Manifestation: 
Those with the Black Moon in Gemini are morbidly afraid of rejection. They are people pleasers, which often leaves them wondering “what it is we ourselves like and dislike”. This shadow manifests as a need to make decisions or act in accordance with whatever gains acceptance from others. It is damaging to the soul to pursue a life that others wish for us, as it comes at the expense of the expression of individual talents. Actions based on or motivated by another leads to a suppression of the true self. It is a great disservice not to explore who we really are. It is also dangerous to “over-do” for others in hopes that they will like us; ultimately it leads to burn out. At the other end of the spectrum, this placement causes sudden and severe reactions to anything that hints at potential rejection, often causing serious challenges with relationships because we will reject someone before they can reject us. The Black Moon in Gemini will bail out too early or stay way too long. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Gemini, it is necessary to face the need for others‟ approval. Each of us has something special to offer the world. What is important is not if others approve of us, but if we approve of ourselves. That sounds very cliché, but with Black Moon in Gemini we need to provide our own approval. When you are able to consciously put yourself on the line to be rejected, intending that the outcome will not hinder your spirit, you will have regained the power that is trapped in the shadow side. When the shadow is healed, rejection ceases to be an issue because inner acceptance has been achieved - creating a wealth of talent that is available to the world. 
Examine where you are not being self-“ish” or operating from your true self. 
When making decisions and planning your time and resources, ask yourself who you are doing it for. The answer should always be “for myself – for my highest and best which in turn serves the highest and best of everyone.” This doesn‟t mean you are supposed to forget about others; it means that you put yourself into the equation. Healing this shadow requires vigilant monitoring of your time, energy, and money and how you spend them. It will quickly become apparent when your energy is scattered and whose approval you are seeking. By practicing making little decisions based on your own needs, you will integrate and balance you in relation to others. 
Black Moon in Gemini: Marlon Brando, Karl Marx, Frank Sinatra, Mark Twain, Mariah Carey, Joe Biden, Muhammed Ali, Frida Kahlo, Harrison Ford, Stephen Hawking, Shia LeBeouf, Kendrick Lamar, Yoko Ono
Black Moon in the 3rd House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to self- expression. The shadow side is ingrained in rigid attitudes and strong opinions that can cause us an endless amount of trouble. At times there is overwhelming confusion about the direction we want to take in life. Early life has a more pronounced effect on us than others. The outgrowths of childhood weave their way through later life in the most resolute ways. Issues with siblings can linger throughout adulthood. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is our uncanny, exacting powers of observation and communication. These talents can be applied in a multitude of ways. Also, our accuracy in perceiving situations gives us a definite advantage in life.
CANCER: fear of abandonment
Theme: The Shadow of Support 
Primary Fear: fear of abandonment 
Self-Judgment: how well one is supported; how much others do or give 
Issues: dependency; co-dependency 
Projection: tendency to dislike those we deem “needy” 
Goals: to do things for ourselves, to not be dependent or “clingy” 
Manifestation: 
Black Moon in Cancer carries a pervasive feeling of being unable to take care of oneself. This shadow manifests in the need to manipulate situations so that one is dependent on others. In this way we are assured of not being alone. This distorted sense of support wreaks havoc on relationships, as others feel burdened or smothered. Many times with the Black Moon in Cancer we feel unappreciated for the things we do for others. The chronic feeling of not being supported halts personal growth, as personal needs are met by others, not by ourselves. 
Healing and Transcending: 
The dependence on others for support must be faced. We must provide our own support by not abandoning ourselves. This means taking care of and addressing our own needs. Action that is in favor of self-sufficiency is in order. Action that is undertaken for others should be unconditional. When the concept of Oneness is integrated, the idea of abandonment is no longer valid and relationships naturally equalize to a state of balance. 
Begin doing the things that you want others to do for you all by yourself. The next time you need something that you would normally ask another to provide for you, go ahead and get it yourself. Begin with small things but work your way up to major ones. 
Do something that you never would have done on your own. By practicing doing more for yourself you will balance the shadow that depends too heavily on others. 
Set up individual systems of support such as retirement funds or other accounts. 
Black Moon in Cancer: Jimi Hendrix, Henry VIII, Janice Joplin, John F. Kennedy, Jr., Malcolm X, Princess Diana, Jennifer Aniston, Elvis Presley, Jay Z, Robin Williams, Paul McCartney, Charles Manson, Naomi Campbell, Kobe Bryant, Rupaul, Paul Newman, Al Capone
Black Moon in the 4th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our foundation and sense of home. The shadow is ingrained with an overidentification with home and much effort is devoted to cultivating a feeling of belonging. With this placement, relationships with parents (particularly the mother) are often difficult, especially if our parents did not provide a strong home. There is a tendency to be stuck in the past and/or unable to forgive and forget. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is the ability to not only be sensitive to, but accommodate other people needs. If we truly trust someone, we will provide whatever is necessary to make that person happy, making us exceptional partners.
  LEO: fear of change
Theme: The Shadow of Order 
Primary Fear: fear of change 
Self-judgment: the level or station one has achieved 
Issues: order; position; arrogance; self-centeredness; jealousy 
Projection: distaste for or identification with overbearing, vain, or “selfish” people 
Goals: to identify and vocalize others‟ talents and strengths, to identify the opportunities presented by changes, to eliminate feeling jealous 
Manifestation: 
The Black Moon in Leo assaults the ego. It manifests in egocentricity and arrogance. With this placement we are frequently accused of being selfish. This is because our attention is naturally attracted to whatever reinforces our position in life. Any ideas to the contrary are quickly dismissed. The fear of change morphs into the fear of losing face or losing position. Rigid attempts to maintain the existing order, framework, or mindset are common and can lead to exhaustion. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Leo, the need for classification and designation must be faced. In truth, there is no hierarchy – All is One. Change is the nature of the Universe and change brings the opportunity for growth. We each have roles that we slip in and out of; the key is to fluidly take on positions and situations where we both lead and follow so that nothing remains static. It is also important to remember that, by definition, Divine Order is never threatened. 
Give to others. Black Moon in Leo has a tremendous capacity to uplift. ø When you encounter new situations, consider how you could empower someone else who is involved. How could you make them feel more important? Think about how you could give something of yourself to someone else. 
When you are with others, practice trying to discover something very special about them in that moment and then casually mention it. 
Try new things. By practicing changing the order of things, you are healing your shadow. 
Black Moon in Leo: Charles de Gaulle, Ernest Hemingway, Elizabeth II, Lyndon B. Johnson, John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Vladimir Putin, Jim Morrison, Pablo Picasso, Christopher Reeve, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Leo Tolstoy, Barack Obama, Rihanna, Adele
Black Moon in the 5th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to the ability to truly enjoy life. This shadow is ingrained in pursuing, but having difficulty finding, pleasure. We are prone to take risks in order to feel stimulated. Issues with the father are found with this placement. The father may have been absent or neglectful, especially if Saturn is prominent. This shadow side may also center on children, either wanting children and not having them or not taking care of ones children. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is resiliency. No matter how disappointed we become, we are rarely down for long. We are excellent problem solvers and leaders. We adapt well to changes and can fluidly change course in mid-stride.
  VIRGO: fear of failure
Theme: The Shadow of Ability
 Primary Fear: fear of failure 
Self-judgment: how much one works, progresses, improves, or fixes 
Issues: feelings of being inherently flawed; self-criticism 
Projection: feeling that others are not performing well enough or are incompetent 
Goals: to not focus on flaws or failures, to not do things to excess, to not feel responsible to fix everything 
Manifestation: 
Black Moon in Virgo finds flaws and then internalizes them. This shadow manifests in chronic dissatisfaction, particularly with oneself. With this placement, we often find it difficult to feel positive about ourselves for great lengths of time. All too soon, a generalized feeling of being “not good enough” creeps back in to maintain internal disequilibrium. Black Moon in Virgo constantly challenges our abilities and, in an effort to prove ourselves, we tend to maintain a very full schedule. We work very hard but can have trouble seeing the forest for the trees, as we operate under the spell of having to do more and more to prove to ourselves and others that we are not flawed. This shadow is the most adept at self punishment. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Virgo, the need to find fault must be faced. A healthier state of mind is achieved when we recognize that nothing is absolute – there is no absolute right or wrong. All levels of ability have something to contribute. Healing this shadow requires understanding that flaws are an illusion. The crucial thing to understand is that when we have the Black Moon in Virgo, we interpret the feeling of separation from Spirit as somehow our fault. Everyone has the feeling of spiritual disconnection, but Black Moon in Virgo personalizes it. This is the root cause of why we feel flawed. To heal the shadow, we must accept that to some degree, this feeling is merely a by-product of the physical experience of life. 
Examine where you feel you have failed. Upon closer inspection, what caused the “failure?” Was it really your fault? Was there really more you could have done or was it just not meant to be? Can you forgive yourself and others for not doing better? 
Can you walk away from “failures” and feel enriched simply by having had the experience? Time is the true test of what is, at the time, perceived to be a failure. By focusing on the experience as opposed to the outcome, the shadow of ability is healed.
Black Moon in Virgo: Alexander Graham Bell, Benazir Bhutto, Sigmund Freud, Galileo, George Washington, 14th Dalai Lama, William Shakespeare, Jon Bon Jovi
Black Moon in the 6th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to health and work. At times there can be problems with co-workers, particularly regarding perceptions of our work performance. The shadow side is ingrained in the level of self-discipline we have. We may be accused of being disorganized. There is also a tendency to vacillate between ignoring our body and focusing too much on it, leading to concerns over health. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is a keen insight into the interrelatedness of things. We often hold a warehouse of information that others find helpful.
LIBRA: fear of loneliness
Theme: The Shadow of Perfection
Primary Fear: fear of loneliness/isolation 
Self-judgment: personal “flaws” are harshly judged 
Issues: perfection; unrealistic expectations; boundary issues 
Projection: criticism of others, particularly the criticism of how things appear 
Goals: to not have to have things be perfect, to be comfortable being alone, to see gray - not just black and white, to not be judgmental 
Manifestation: 
Black Moon in Libra values impeccability and holds everything and everyone to a high standard, especially oneself. This shadow involves pursuit of the “ideal” and keenly feels the separation from spirit. The Black Moon in Libra manifests in intense self-judgment and fragmentation of the self into pieces that are either acceptable or unacceptable. This shadow breaches boundaries and sorts through everything in an attempt to perfect it. It seeks excellence. This results in an unending series of disappointments and can form schisms in relationships. Maintaining any semblance of perfection is exhausting for anyone, but with the Black Moon in Libra, we often find ourselves complaining about being tired or not having enough time. Indecisiveness and self-deprivation are also characteristic of this shadow. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Libra, the need to judge must be faced. This shadow is strongly connected to the journey through the judgment of the Underworld and subsequent rebirth in a whole new way (see Chapter Five on the transits of the Black Moon). It is actually a journey to find what is truly of value. When we are able to see that love is truly the only thing of value, we find inclusion instead of separation. We begin to love all of the parts, not just some of them. When we understand that everything is connected, we see that the fear of separation is an illusion. Healing the shadow of perfection is about seeing our own (and others‟) inner perfection by allowing the “ideals” of the outer, material world to fall away. 
Assess your values. When you find yourself being critical of others, ask yourself if you dislike that same thing in yourself. Examine how you separate yourself from other people. Is there a need to keep some part of you distinct from others? 
When you find yourself being critical, find something valuable about the situation. You might not feel like certain things about you or others are perfect in appearance, but you may find that they are highly valuable in functionality. By practicing finding value, the shadow that believes in the idea of perfection is healed. 
Black Moon in Libra: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Benito Mussolini, Tupac Shakur, Nikola Tesla
Black Moon in the 7th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to partnerships and commitment. This shadow side is urgently motivated to seek mutually-fulfilling relationships, which are often elusive. Also, other people find ways to take advantage of us, sometimes to the point of betrayal. Many times life seems unfair to us and others would probably agree. In the midst of this, there can also be issues of dependence or neediness. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to perceive and create beauty from the smallest things. Innately tuned toward balance, we easily see what is missing and then endeavor to rectify the situation. This is a very valuable skill that can be translated into many different applications.
SCORPIO: fear of loss
Theme: The Shadow of Death 
Primary Fear: fear of loss 
Self-judgment: based on what one has won 
Issues: winning vs. losing; issues with death/endings 
Projection: rescuing others 
Goals: to not always have to win, to learn how to have closure, to not have to rescue, to not struggle so hard 
Manifestation: 
Black Moon in Scorpio will go to extreme lengths to save, assist, rescue, or win. This shadows favorite prize is something that was hard won. The Black Moon in Scorpio manifests as a deep well of despair with desperate attempts to climb out. We cling or attach to anything that stems the feeling of free-falling through life. Daily life is frequently viewed as a battle to win in order to stave off deepening feelings of loss. Sometimes even casual encounters are judged according to what was won or lost in the exchange. Black Moon in Scorpio is very strong energy that can cause intense levels of anxiety. We are especially attracted to people who are in need of assistance or who are “persecuted” in some way, as this is the preferred method to vicariously save ourselves. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Scorpio, the need to struggle must be faced. Nothing is ever really lost because there really is no death – only transformation into a new form. There is no need to plunge to the depths just to prove that we can win or to try to keep things from ending. Practicing the arts of gratitude and surrender is what facilitates the shift from the perspective of loss to the perspective of love. Material things fall away, but love endures forever. 
Become comfortable with losing. It is essential to let go of anything that you are overly attached to. 
Examine where you have invested most of your energy. Is it a losing battle? Instead of dealing with loss in an indirect way, consciously take action to give up. Imagine how relieved you would feel. 
Take steps to practice ending the smallest things (like phone calls) and work up to being able to step away from situations that cannot be saved (like dead end relationships). You may be surprised to find that something else was waiting all along - you just couldn’t see it while you were busy running away from it. This is the nature of death or endings. They always precede rebirth and beginnings. 
Black Moon in Scorpio: Alexander the Great, Winston Churchill, Nostredame, Steve Jobs, Emily Dickinson, Pope Francis, Walt Disney, Jeff Bezos, John D. Rockefeller, Albert Schweitzer, Mother Teresa, Eminem, Taylor Swift, Johnny Depp, Beyoncé, Dwayne Johnson, Notorious B.I.G
Black Moon in the 8th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to death, inheritance, investments, and sex. This is the most difficult house placement for the Black Moon. The shadow side is ingrained in loss; in fact, we may feel that our lives lead only to loss. With Black Moon in the eighth house, chronic anxiety may be present. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is our great depth of compassion and ability to see beyond the surface. We quickly ascertain people true motivations. Our wisdom and insight is a great benefit to those with whom we are close.
SAGITTARIUS: fear of meaninglessness
Theme: The Shadow of Truth 
Primary Fear: fear of meaninglessness 
Self-judgment: based on intentions and motivations 
Issues: issues related to truth and honesty 
Projection: distaste for people who lie or people who are naïve 
Goals: to not have to have the ultimate answers, to tolerate the ordinary, to not always need “proof” 
Manifestation: 
The Black Moon in Sagittarius manifests in an intense relationship with the concept of “truth.” There is a great need to discern the superlative truth in all things, which causes a never ending sequence of questioning. More importantly, we need to feel like people are telling us the truth, as we do not automatically believe anything simply because it was said. Relationships can become stressed if our partners feel that they always have to prove that they are telling the truth. Themes of deception often play a role in our lives, perhaps as a victim of deception. Ongoing questions about not only our purpose in life, but the purpose of life characterize this shadow. Feelings of stagnation are not tolerated well. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Sagittarius, the need to continue searching must be faced. At some point, one must simply believe. Ultimately, all searching for the truth leads back to the truth that All is One. What is meaningful? Whatever we choose as meaningful is meaningful. This shadow is healed when we see that each of us has an interpretation of truth, which eliminates the need to find one superlative truth. 
Take up the mantle of responsibility for creating meaning in life. Meaningfulness is found by assessing what is truly important. What is meaningful to you? When you know the answers to this question, you will have created truth – the truth according to you. Devotion of your life to your own truth heals the shadow that never believes that truth really exists. 
Black Moon in Sagittarius: Helena Blavatsky, Napoleon Bonaparte, Thomas Jefferson, Carl Jung, Martin Luther King, Jr., Jack London, Claude Monet, Ronald Reagan
Black Moon in the 9th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our outlook or philosophy in life, religion, spirituality, higher learning, the law, and the world at large. This shadow is deeply concerned with issues of morality. We hold strong opinions, often leading to conflicts with others. There is a tendency to feel disconnected from others or from ourselves. We may even feel compelled to isolate ourselves from the world around us. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is a keen intellect that we are able to translate into many fields of interest. Our knowledge encompasses a wide spectrum, affording us the ability to relate to many different people, should we so desire.
CAPRICORN: fear of neglect
Theme: The Shadow of Control 
Primary Fear: fear of neglect/ not being acknowledged 
Self-judgment: how well one stands out or apart 
Issues: control issues; attention-seeking behavior 
Projection: negative reaction to bossy, showy, or attention-seeking people; rebellion against being told what to do 
Goals: to be comfortable when not in control, to stand up for yourself 
Manifestation: 
The Black Moon in Capricorn manifests as a need to control the course of events. When this shadow dominates, we have a tendency to be demanding. We can go to extreme efforts to gain attention. We have definite ideas about the way things should be and others often succumb to the force of our will. Frequently we refuse to give up until someone – anyone - acknowledges what we have to offer or agrees with what we think is best. A little bit of recognition goes a long way with us, but so does a little bit of neglect, and Black Moon in Capricorn has a long memory. But interpersonal relationships suffer when we wear down another free will to come into compliance with our own. This results in lackluster relationships where the joyful spark of life becomes extinguished. We are very hard workers, but we can also expect a lot from others. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Capricorn, we need to examine what we are trying to control. We also need to give ourselves the recognition we seek. When we are able to do this, there is no longer a drive to ensure that others follow our wishes because we already have what we need. 
Examine where you need to have your way. Observe yourself carefully. Are you telling someone how, when, or what to do? Practice allowing others to go about tasks in their own way. 
Ask others what they would like to do and then do it. Enjoy the feeling of not being responsible for everything. Freedom, spontaneity, and a joyful feeling for life will return when the pressure to be a certain way is removed. 
Black Moon in Capricorn: Leonardo da Vinci, Farrah Fawcett, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Machiavelli
Black Moon in the 10th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to ambition, authority, social status, and responsibility. Tradition and family obligations are important us. This shadow is ingrained in a sense of duty and high aspirations, and we closely monitor our progress in the world as compared to others. We hold high standards and expectations, which can cause interpersonal difficulties if we demand too much from others. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to persevere. We are hard workers who take more than our share of any load. When we give our word, we do everything in our power to keep it.
AQUARIUS: fear of powerlessness
Theme: The Shadow of Power 
Primary Fear: fear of powerlessness 
Self-judgment: based on the impact/power one has to get what one wants or needs 
Issues: power issues; power struggles 
Projection: distaste for weak or undisciplined people 
Goals: to learn to ask for help, to not overpower others
Manifestation: 
The Black Moon in Aquarius often manifests in a powerful sense of loneliness. Usually we are keenly aware of our intense personal power and are somewhat frightened by it. Our skills and aptitudes can border on genius, often giving us an air of considerable authority. We have strong faculties and diverse talents that can be used to uplift or to crush others. Black Moon in Aquarius is a force rivaled by few, and the temptation to dominate others can become an ongoing battle. It is simply all too easy to emotionally and intellectually overpower others. Ethical concerns can arise, as we are prone to test our limitations. In situations where we feel powerless, we tend to isolate ourselves so no one will see our “weakness.” This self-imposed prison is rife with internal brutality, as we tend to unleash cruel criticism on ourselves for not being stronger. 
Healing and Transcending: 
With the Black Moon in Aquarius, the tendency to overpower others must be faced. When we recognize that we are all connected, there is no need for anyone to overpower another. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses that fluctuate and change over time. The extra boost of power that accompanies Black Moon in Aquarius can be re-routed back into the collective of humanity in the form of brilliant ideas and creations that uplift the whole. A channel or outlet for this power is what is needed to keep it from blowing up. When the focus shifts to sharing power, all benefit. 
Examine if you abuse your power by neglecting or criticizing others. Do you take advantage of others, however unwittingly? Or do you neglect, criticize, or overextend yourself? 
Ask yourself what you would do with all of your power. It is very important for you to answer this question. Are you more afraid of your power or your powerlessness? Discerning the parameters of personal power is what heals this shadow. 
Black Moon in Aquarius: Robert Oppenheimer, Genghis Khan, Ludwig van Beethoven, James Dean, Jacki Kennedy, Salvador Dali, O.J Simpson, Amy Winehouse, Kid Cudi
Black Moon in the 11th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our hopes, wishes, and dreams. The shadow is concerned with how we fit into the collective of humanity. Issues of the “self versus others” follow us and we may find that we are often accused of being selfish or self centered. Change is usually difficult for us to handle. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is the ability to bring people together. We are natural networkers. We are also interesting people to be around and are true innovators.
PISCES: fear of vulnerability/harm
Theme: The Shadow of Trust 
Primary Fear: fear of vulnerability 
Self-judgment: based on how stable ones emotions are 
Issues: trust issues 
Projection: distrust of people who are “too nice” because they must want something 
Goals: to let down your walls with the appropriate people, to be able to discern who is appropriate for you, to focus on self as much as others 
Manifestation: 
The Black Moon in Pisces is tender-hearted. We are afraid that if others discover this, they will use it against us. There is a tendency to judge people and situations based on the potential of being hurt. We may find it difficult to be open or fully intimate with others. It is often hard to trust others and we test them until we feel safe. This shadow can show up overtly (in unmistakable emotional walls) but it can also show up subtly (appearing on the surface to be very open, but upon closer inspection having definite commitment issues). On the flip side, we can also make commitments before trust is gained. By prematurely trusting, we face betrayal or disappointment. In this way, a vague sense of safety is maintained since a deeper sense of intimacy is never attained. The sense of being separated from Spirit is acute with Black Moon in Pisces and the intense desire to not be present in the “here and now” can lead to emotional addictions, addiction to substances, or escaping our own issues through focusing on others. 
Healing and Transcending:
With the Black Moon in Pisces, the need to put up a wall of protection must be faced. The truth is, life can be painful and people hurt us whether they intend to or not. We need to learn to trust the people we know we can trust. Usually this is the person we are with the most, but proportionately open up to the least. We tend to hold ourselves back, but this is a crime against our souls because we are naturally closest to Spirit and have much to share with others. Our shadow is healed when we trust that we are strong enough to withstand any offense. 
Ask yourself when you feel most vulnerable. In what situations do you cross your arms and cover your chest? How do you cover up or cover over who you really are? 
Consider who you physically, intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally open up to the most? It is important to look at the level of trust you have in the people around you and honestly assess if your trust is well-placed. Balancing the shadow of trust is just as much about not placing trust in the people that you know you shouldn’t as it is about allowing someone else see who you really are. 
Black Moon in Pisces: Jesus Christ (allegedly), Prince Charles, John Lennon, Gerald Ford, Judy Garland, Angelina Jolie, Mike Tyson, Madonna, Harry Styles, Miley Cyrus, Ariana Grande, Leonardo DiCaprio, Al Pacino, Elizabeth Taylor
Black Moon in the 12th House 
Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to unconscious motivations, addictions, institutions, and enemies. The shadow is deeply ingrained in anything that is hidden. By its very nature, the Black Moon is hidden, making this placement difficult to understand. There is often a side to us that is unknown to most people. We may have a degree of emotional suffering that is not evident to others until they get to know us. 
Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to empathize with others. We seem to easily give to others that which we may not be able to give to ourselves. We are complex people who can handle complex tasks and material with aplomb.
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"Primary fears subvert our personal growth and feelings of happiness. Oftentimes they impede our success because fear is what stops us cold in our tracks when we are venturing into unknown territory. Our choices and actions are directly proportional to the level of control our shadow exerts over us. When the fear that is contained in the shadow side is dominant, we feel unfulfilled and unsatisfied." - (Walker, 2011)
Reference:
Walker, L., 2011. The Astrology of the Black Moon: A Guide to Healing the Shadow Side. Austin, Texas: The Dog Publishing.
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reveluving · 8 months
Text
the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader
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summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.
warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!
a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ
» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!
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'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;
Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” 
It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.
Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time. 
Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.
“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice. 
The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.
“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.
“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”
Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.
Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.
And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it. 
Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.
As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.
Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.
"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you." 
It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.
Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that. 
Not yet.
You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off. 
Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home. 
The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.
Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them. 
Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.
For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.
After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.
Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.” 
You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free. 
Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…
Oh, Irene.
She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it. 
The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger. 
You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.
You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.
Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.
“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.
“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.
“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.
“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”
You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”
“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.
“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.
“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”
“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.
“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.
“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.
“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”
“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement. 
“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.
“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.
“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”
You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead. 
“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them." 
It would do no good, but it was worth trying. 
"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”
He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”
You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room. 
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You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene. 
“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket. 
“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”
Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out. 
“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them. 
He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.
"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys." 
They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?" 
"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.
"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.
"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile. 
"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing." 
"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy." 
That's all they ever wanted.
The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is. 
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Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.
By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other. 
Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.
"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.
"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back." 
You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.
Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.
Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.
Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.
But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.
"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back. 
"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.
"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.
"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.
"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?" 
"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.
"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.
"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?" 
No reply.
"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.
“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out. 
“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings. 
“How big?” 
“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.
Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants. 
No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it. 
He just had to play it safe. 
He slowly broke into a sinister smile.
“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”
˚ · . f i n . · ˚
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» a/n: ahh hubby rick &lt;3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡
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