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#you'll never know / the beauty i see when you open your shadows

amourdivine · 3 months

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ PICK A CARD

Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo ♡

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

how to choose your pile. take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands

Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.

However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.

how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands

You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.

Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.

These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.

The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands

Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.

It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.

Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.

how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords

Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.

Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?

It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.

You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles

Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.

This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.

This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.

how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles

To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.

That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.

You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.

Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords

Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.

It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.

It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.

Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.

how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups

Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.

Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.

Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.

disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #astrology #witchblr #tarot witch #pagan #mine.

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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year

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Forbidden

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x FIA!Reader

Rating: R

Warnings: major age gap, fia, SMUT, angst, fluff, jealous/possessive Daniel, Daniel sabotages your potential relationships, p in v, wrap before you tap, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), etc.

Requested: Yes/No

Requests: One & Two

Words: 3.4 K

A/N: I’ve been feed with this, now to rot your brain with it! Also I couldn't do both endings since they were both different, so I mixed them as best I could.

Working with the FIA and dating a driver secretly would never work. To you, you never questioned your love for Daniel. He made you see stars, treated you like a queen, and never made you feel ashamed of your job or age.

Having been together for 2 years, it was filled with secret kisses, touches, and stolen looks. It was hard to not be out in the open, especially when sometimes you fell used. The horrible pit in your stomach would hit you when you woke after your nights together, and he wouldn't be there. Not a note, nothing. He disappears before you wake.

He left a trail of hurt and disgust in his storm, trying to figure out if this was between you two was love or the imagination of love. Trapped in the shadows of sneaking around. A flurry of adrenaline and bad choices. You'd always say it would be the last time, but tattooed hands and intoxicating kisses pull you back in every time. It was a merry-go-round of disgust and ecstasy you couldn't escape.

"Enough." You whimper, skin bruised, lips raw from how he pulled you apart. Piece by piece, he broke your surface more and more. "Why?" He groans, biting your neck, causing you to whimper in pain, pulling his attention. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He whispers because, god forbid, someone heard the two of you in the privacy of your hotel room.

"Just.....just." Biting your lip, you hiss at the burn. "Stay with me?" It was a soft plead, not even something he could ignore. Daniel smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. Hands block his attempt as he stares at you, annoyed. "No, not like this, Daniel. Lay with me. For the night. No sex." Daniel's eyes soften, seeing the raw emotions all over your face, and he drops his head.

Daniel knew what had been happening wasn't right, not you. You turned into a form of escape, a dreamlike place that never asked for much. At that time, he forgot how young you are compared to him. How this relationship is viewed through naive eyes. "Y/n," He stops, throat tight as he watches your eyes grow wide with hope. Hope he'd love you the way you deserve.

"Let's just sleep." A breathtaking smile graces your lips, setting his heart pounding in his chest, trying to ignore the voice in his head. "Okay, Danny." The first night in almost two years, Daniel stayed the whole night. For the first and last time.

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The change in your dynamic was noticeable to everyone. You were magnetic, pulling everyone in when they were trying to claw their way free. That smile was a drug. Everyone craved to see it more and more as they got to know you. "What's going on with you and Daniel?" Looking up, you smile shyly at Max.

He was always welcoming to you and had always thought of you as beautiful. Standing up, you push strands of hair out of your face. "No idea what you mean, Max. We're friends." Saying that tale's old sentence wasn't fooling anyone. They could see you choking on glass every time you told that excuse. "Sure. If you're just friends, you'll go on a date with me then?" Leaning on the railing placed between you two, you freeze.

Unable to stop the pull, you cast your eyes sideways to Daniel. There he was, watching this unravel. Any other boyfriend would stomp up the stairs and punch Max for asking their girl out, but Daniel wasn't yours. "Can I think about it? I do work for the FIA, Max." You try to reason with him, but the Dutch driver just smiles. "So? I don't care who you are. I wouldn't hide you in the shadows like a coward." Wincing at how he practically screamed the last sentence. "Later." Leaning forward, he kisses your cheek, saunters, and waves at Daniel.

Turning, you see Daniel staring at you, but he just smiles his bright smile and walks past you. You were just another chess piece to his board.

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"You're avoiding me?" Daniel freezes, thinking you're sound asleep. You'd gotten into the habit of waking when he would leave your bed, long before the sun would even rise. "No. I'm here, aren't I?" He asks, slightly turning to see the back of your head.

"You're body is here, Daniel, not you. Never you." Throwing the covers back, you float to the bathroom and throw the light on. Illuminating the bedroom. With glances, you see he was tying his shoes when you woke; it makes you choke. "The hell is that supposed to mean Y/n? I love you." He whispers and yells, and that has you grab a bottle and throw it.

"Why the FUCK are you whispering, Daniel! We're in my apartment, not some hotel room. Though you'd prefer if it was a hotel room, hm? That way, you could forget this is a relationship, not some hookup!" You scream.

"Stop screaming! Do you want people to find out?" He seethes, and a dry laugh shakes your body. "You haven't touched me in almost 3 months, Danny." Daniel dares to flinch at those words. "I've been busy." He leans back over his knees and ties his boots before standing up and grabbing his shirt on the lounge chair. "No, you haven't been.

Ever since Max asked me out, you've changed. No, wait. I take that back. You changed after you slept beside me. Daniel, you can only fuck me can't you?" Daniel doesn't look you in the eye, afraid you'd see the truth in his eyes. But you saw the truth long ago.

"Get out." Two words. Who knew that two words could cut so deep. "What?" Turning, you hold your bathroom door. "Get out. You were leaving already. Well, this time, it's permanent. You were never serious about me. I was a stupid, naive girl for falling for you. For falling in love. Get out, and don't come back." Slamming the bathroom door, Daniel hears the soft click.

The echo of his footsteps and the front door's click breaks you. Sliding down the door, you cover your mouth as soft sobs rattle your body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Stop!" You laugh getting shot by water guns in the blazing heat of Saudi Arabia. "Never!" Max yells, blasting you with the freezing water again. Running away, the people move and laugh as they watch the poor FIA employee run around the paddock avoiding the 2 drivers chasing her.

"Gotcha!" You scream as Lando sprays you with water. Having followed you with his high pitch laughter, you can't help but join in. "Max!" You laugh, feeling arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off the ground before setting you back down. "Cold." Shivering, Max gets the idea of handing the 2nd water gun to Lando and pulls you into his chest, hoping you warm up.

"Better?" You nod, feeling your face burn, unable to control yourself as you bury closer in his chest. "What's happening here?" Muscle snap tight at the familiar Aussie accent. "Hey mate, we're playing around," Max smirks, turning you two around and coming face to face with Daniel.

His sunny smile slips, seeing it was you in Max's hold, not some random girl. "Don't you have work?" Daniel's voice has some bite to it, making Max frown. "Hey, Y/n is fine. Damn Daniel, what's been up your ass lately?" Max asks, his grip loosening on you.

"I'm sure you've got work to do. Besides, does your boyfriend know you're cozying up to some other guy?" Max's arms fall away quickly, and he steps back, clearing his throat. "Well, Lando and I have some media obligations to handle anyway. See you later, Y/n." Grabbing Lando, the Mclaren driver grumbles about not having any media stuff for the day. "Shut it, yes we do." Max hisses, tugging the driver away. Leaving you and Daniel.

"I don't have a boyfriend." You state, glaring at Daniel, who looks down at you before turning around and walking away. "Yeah, walk away. That's all you're good at." How he heard you, you have no idea. Suddenly he's in front of you and pressing you against something. "What'd you say?" His voice was soft, but those eyes betrayed him. He was furious. Normally he'd bend you over and show you who you belonged to. But he can't do that anymore.

"Danny, let me go." It was a soft plead, trying to calm him down. "Go do some work." Pushing off you, he walks away, blending into the crowd. Stepping out, you stare into the public and turn, heading to the FIA hospitality, trying to remove Daniel from your head.

Storming into his driver's room, Daniel throws his water bottle, watching it explode everywhere. "Why'd I fucking do that? I don't care who she's with now!" He grumbles, staring at the water leaking out onto the floor. Cursing, he grabs a couple of towels and tries to clean up the mess, trying to think of why he did what he did.

Seeing you in Max's arms just set his blood on fire, the fact that someone else could hold his girl, and get that smile on your face, pissed him off. He couldn't touch you anymore. Every time he did, he wanted to fuck you right then, and there, people around be damned. He stops and stares at the floor. He could've handled everything better; he was scared.

Rumors had started to spread that a female FIA employee was sleeping with one of the drivers and, at that one, the older ones. He heard the whispers of how she got her job that way, how she was probably a whore who didn't know anything about racing and was using the driver. When it reached Daniel that your name and his were thrown into the mix, he panicked.

Started to distance himself from you. He'll admit that he never did spend the night at your place, too afraid that cameras were following him and they'd catch you two together. Daniel was just protecting you. He couldn't bear to lose you, but in the end, what he thought was protecting you was pushing you away. Fuck, he could never fix this.

He picks up the water bottle and finishes cleaning up; walking out of his room, he sees Max approaching him. He can't help the following words out of his mouth. "Stop flirting with Y/n. She's young and doesn't know what's fun or serious. So leave her alone." Starring Max down, the young driver nods as Daniel stalks away, leaving Max confused.

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"Open this fucking door, Daniel!" Startling awake, Daniel turns his head to his hotel door, hearing someone banging and cursing him. "The fuck." Throwing open the door, he's meeting with you. Dressed up.

God was trying to kill Daniel, wasn't he? Here you stood, dark makeup, hair was done in the style he likes, a ponytail perfect for wrapping his hand around. Dress black and revealing, showing off every inch of your body. Heels, fuck, he loved you in heels. It showed off those legs, legs he loves to have wrapped around his head.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing? Someone could hear you!" Daniel hissed, wrapping one hand around your arm and dragging you into his hotel room. The race was long over, and some people had already flown to Australia, but he needed a night to gather. That clearly wasn't happening.

"How dare you tell Max I'm childish and don't know the difference between fun and serious! You bastard! How could you do this to me? Telling him to leave me alone? Fucking Christ, Daniel, I'm not your girlfriend anymore. Actually, I never was!" Pulling away, you head to the door, ready to leave, but it's slammed shut, and you're shoved against it. "You were mine." He growls.

Daniel was pissed; he's tired, angry, and sad. And here you are, cursing him for protecting you. "You'll always be mine." His hand trails up your neck and into your ponytail. Wrapping it around his fist, he yanks your head back, pulling a delicate whimper past those red-painted lips. "No, I'm not." Your body betrays you.

Leaning into his touch, Daniel and you stare at each other, almost begging for someone to make the first move. He breaks first. Pulling your hair, his other hand wraps around your leg and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, moaning when you feel his cock against you. "Kiss me." You whimper. Daniel presses you against the door and devours your mouth.

A soft groan passes through his lips as your tongues clash against one another, fighting for dominance. Pulling away, Daniel attacks your neck, littering it with bites and faint lipstick marks, his lips mirroring your own now. He looks up and freezes, meeting your eyes, realizing what he is doing. Everything he thought about, the rumors, media, people, your job, his own job, fuck, this was wrong.

"No." Sitting you down and backing up, leaving you whimpering and shocked. "What? Daniel, please." Reaching out for him, he backs further into his room, leaving you cold and abandoned. "No, leave Y/n. This isn't right." You reach back, still facing Daniel as you open the door. You back up and close the door, running away.

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"Good luck." Your voice causes Daniel to jump and turn, seeing you dressed in a classy black dress, something flowy to help beat the Australian heat but still within your FIA uniform. "Thanks, I'm P3. Maybe could get a win." He chuckles, trying to cut the tension. Whether it was sexual or anger, he couldn't tell the difference.

"Yep." Walking away, he sees you smile at the other drivers, even flirting with some drivers as you walk down the track. An alarm sounds, letting people know it is time to get off the track for the race to start.

Daniel climbs into his car, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

"He is the pride of Australia. We thought he was gone forever, but Daniel Ricciardo has proven it yet again! Why he is the WINNER OF THE 2023 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX! HE'S DONE IT! OH MY GOD!"

The crowd roars, chants, drinks, and everything is utter chaos as all the cars rush past the finish line. People are storming the track, heading to the podium. You watch the crowd, running away from the chaos; you seek quiet, trying to ignore your craving to be next to Daniel.

Lucky for you, being high enough in the FIA, you can have a private room to be alone. Unlucky for you, walking into the space, you're met with the Aussie himself. "Daniel? You're supposed to be at the podium. What the hell are you doing?" You snap, knowing you'll get an ear full from the media about the race winner not being at the podium.

"Claiming my real prize." Unable to react, you crashed into each other and hurried hands pull and tug at each other's clothes and hair. "Danny, fuck." Whimpers pass your lips as Daniel bends down and lifts you up, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass as he walks you over to your small couch.

Biting your lip, he pulls away and stares up at you. "Shit, you're gorgeous. And mine." Daniel growls and sits you down before tugging down his race suit, smirking, as you watch, dazed, reeling from how intoxicating he is. "Now, you're going to do what I say. I will lay half off this couch, and you, Y/n, will sit on my fucking face. And I don't mean half-ass sitting. I want to fucking suffocate while you ride my face and use my nose to get the perfect little clit off. Do you understand me?" Knees buckling, you reach under your dress and pull down your white lace panties.

"Such a good girl." Daniel praises, causing it to stroke your heart and the walls around you. "Come here." Daniel positions himself half off the couch; curling his fingers, he beckons you over to him. Walking over, you straddle his waist, hesitant to do this. "Kitten, come on, be good for me." Daniel praises, almost in a taunting manner.

Daniel moves quickly when you don't move at first and yanks you forward by the back of your thighs, having you land on his face. With a moan, you feel Daniel smirk against you, but soon you ball the couch fabric in your hand as Daniel takes a curious lick of your pussy. "Fuck, Danny." It'd been so long since you've been touched like this. Toes curling, you slack against him, finally resting your weight on him.

"That's right, kitten, just like that." The vibrations of his talking make you giggle, causing your hips to rock forward. And just like he said, his nose hits your clit perfectly. "Danny." His hands move from your thigh to your ass, spreading you as he palms you. His tongue curls and starts to do the alphabet, a trick he learned, his record was J, but today he was going to beat that.

With you rocking your hips, you move back and forth, holding the couch tightly, back arched forward. You gasp when Daniel does G and curls it off by spreading you with his tongue. "Fuck, right there." You moan and speed up your rhythm, riding his face like his cock. When Daniel moves his tongue in the form of H, you moan loudly, almost a squeal, as you shake.

"Danny!" You scream, riding out your orgasm, slowing your pace. Daniel helps you and lays you on the couch as he catches his breath, lips shiny with your slick. "New record." You giggle, which has Daniel smirk, and turn you over onto your stomach. "Yeah? Ready for round 2?" He asks, flipping your dress up.

Shoves two fingers in his mouth, there is no need to wet them, but he wants to mix him and you together as he reaches down and runs the fingers up and down your sensitive pussy. "So damn perfect, and mine. Are you mine, hm? My real trophy?" He asks, making you moan and rock backward, meeting his fingers. They slowly enter and spread you open before moving up and down and then curling inside you, causing you to drop your head, and muffling your moan.

"Fuck me, Danny, please, I can't. I need you!" You cry, which has Daniel shake his head and smack your ass. "Fuck...." You whimper but gasp when you feel Daniel's cock slowly tease you. He rubs his cock up and down before slamming into you.

Reaching around, he covers your mouth, smothering the scream as you adjust to his size. He doesn't wait, though, as he pulls all the way out and slams back into you. Groaning, his free hand wraps your hair and pulls you back, arching into him. "So fucking tight, wrapping around my cock like you are made for me. Are you made for me, kitten? Your pussy made for cock?" He groans. All you can do is nod your head, opening your mouth, you twirl your tongue over his fingers.

He shoves them into your mouth, making you choke on them, but you don't mind sucking on them. He keeps the same depth moving faster, hitting every nerve inside you. "Fuck, close." He groans and lays down on top of you, his thrusts short and fast, pulling his fingers out. They reach down and start to rub your clit. Loud moans fill the air with the sound of skin slapping skin.

"Come in me, make me yours. Fuck, please, please." You beg as Daniel grunts in your ear, moving faster. "Pump you full, I will, baby. Show everyone you're mine. Yeah? Yeah?" He moans as you scream, burying your head on the couch as you come again. Daniel's thrusts falter as he freezes and comes inside you.

Arms tightening around your waist, you whimper, feeling sticky and exhausted but so damn good at the same time. "I'm sorry." He whispers, pulling out of you, and you giggle.

"Don't think because you won, we're suddenly together again. I will need a lot...and I mean many orgasms as an apology." Wrapping your arms around his neck, Daniel laughs. "That I can do." He nips your lips, making you laugh as his hand gently enters you.

"Guess I need to start now." Pulling moans out of you, good thing you locked your door.

2K notes · View notes

saekkas · 1 year

Text

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒

summary: romantically cliche things the boys do when they're in love with you.

includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.

notes: this might just be the most lovey-dovey thing i've ever written in my life.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍: goes out of his comfort zone, does anything he can so that you're always smiling when with him, makes butterflies erupt every single time he opens his mouth.

kaiser, sae, isagi, karasu

"can't you let me see? we've been doing this for hours!"

his hands are around your face, shielding your vision. you can see nothing but darkness, only small spots of light from the gaps of his fingers. he's been nothing but romantic for the whole day, eager to celebrate your anniversary on a day off. he's taken you to a popular italian place, which he's booked under your name from two months ago, and brought you to a science and art museum that's produced more than a hundred lock screen worthy photos.

all the while keeping his hands around your eyes every time you move onto a new spot. he's determined to make this the best day of your life, and with the way it's going, he's gotten his wish.

"calm down, we're almost there." his voice is right by your ear, tone completely warm as he chuckles at the shiver it brings. "since when were you the impatient one in the relationship?"

"can you blame me? how am i supposed to know you aren't leading me into a trench in the middle of nowhere?" there's only silence, and you can only assume he's grown tired of your whining. "it's a perfectly plausible scenario and you know that. what if-"

"we're here," he says, this time whispering lowly as he stops your movements, placing his chin on your shoulder. "i hope you like it. it's my last present for today."

you blink your eyes when he finally takes away his hand, trying to get used to the onslaught of brightness. you gasp, realizing belatedly that he's taken you to the canopy of your joined apartment. he's taken two chairs from your kitchen, along with a high desk from your work room, and transformed the space into a private space for two.

"this is beautiful. i can't believe you did this for me."

his hands are warm as they trail down your waist, wrapping you snugly against his chest. you can feel the soft breath coming from his mouth, and the telltale signs of a five o'clock shadow as he nuzzles into your neck. "do you like it?"

"i love it. i love you." you stand in silence for a while, taking the time to take everything in. you snap out of your trance like state when he takes your hand, pulling you towards the seats. "thank you. you've completely made my present for you look like trash."

there's a shadow of a smile on his face, bright even under the darkness of the ink blue sky. you'd print it if you could. you'd freeze this moment, this day, so you'll get to experience it forever, in a never-ending loop, if you could.

"two tickets to meet my favorite team is far from trash, but i'll accept the compliment."

that shadow of a smile turns into a grin, and you realize you never want to experience a day without his smile for the rest of your life if you could.

the lights from nearby buildings look and feel as if fireflies, surrounding you in a peaceful hue. his eyes are a different shade today, far brighter than they usually are. his embrace far warmer.

you suppose love does that to the best of people. and you suppose you're lucky to be able to get to experience it with him.

"i have something for you."

you quirk an eyebrow as he leans down to reach for something under his seat. it's rectangular, medium-sized, nothing special looking, and yet your heart's beating against your ribcage, threatening to let loose and engulf him whole.

"i thought this whole set up was supposed to be the last?"

"i lied," he chuckles, handing the object to you with soft eyes. "open it."

the wrapping is shabby at best, and you bite your lip, both endeared and amused by his actions. you tear it gently, gasping when the cover of your favorite book looks back at you. "i..."

the cover feels smooth under your fingers, and you can only choke back a sob when you flip onto the first page, finding his scribbled writing right under the author's autograph. the next pages are similar in different ways, filled with little notes and highlighted words at the edges. his thoughts immortalized for you to read.

"you annotated a book for me?" you sniffle, wiping away the tears before they fall onto the pages. "and got the author to sign it?"

"why are you crying?" he asks out of pure sweetness, nothing but love looking back at you from his eyes. "isn't that what a guy does when he's in love with a girl?"

you only nod, still at a loss of words as he leans down another time, this time placing a cool box on the desk. "gelato?" he asks with a laugh as he places two of your favorite flavored dessert in between you. "can't have my love crying on our special day, can we?"

you learn that the gelato isn't the last surprise either. his last present comes in the form of a ring and a promise made under the night sky.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍: holds every single one of your things, will not let you move a single finger, proudly shows you off as his.

aiku, nagi, kunigami

"i have two hands too, you know?" you laugh, your shoulders shaking as you lean against the apartment door's entrance. "i can bring my own things."

you watch with thinly veiled amusement as he shakes his head with a stubborn frown. his footsteps are heavy, the added weight of all your shopping bags dragging him down slightly. you move slightly to the left, pushing the door open wider so he could enter.

"i'll get you something to drink. hold on," you say with a pointed look before making your way to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. walking back, you giggle at the sight of him peeking into the paper bags. "here."

the palm of his hands are slightly calloused against the skin of your thighs as he all but drags you onto his lap. the couch sinks under your joined form and you raise an eyebrow when he looks up at you with puppy eyes.

"what?" you ask, slightly suspicious of the pout on his face after the few seconds of silence. "you want something don't you?"

"show me?" his tone is dripping in honey and his hands rub circles on your back as he tries to persuade you. "wanna see my girl all dolled up and pretty."

you sigh at his request, your heart weak at his show of affection. "fine. you better pay attention though."

he hums, nodding his head excitedly as you take the bags and bring them into the bedroom with you, ready for a fashion show.

"i'm not wearing every single one so i'll show you my favorites." the dress you have on is innocent, fun. one you've picked exactly for picnic dates and ice cream runs. it's a baby blue color, white lace trimming your waist with a bow to match. "what do you think?"

his eyes roam from your head down to your feet, and you blink at the silence that coats his answer. "do you not like it?"

he blinks back, as if breaking out of a gaze before he stands, leaning down to press three pecks onto your lips. you watch as he walks back to the couch, tilting your head at the coy smirk on his face. you feel dumbfounded when he waves a hand, motioning for you to try the next one.

the second outfit is far simpler. white top matched with a leather jacket and boots. there's no other sound besides the fan by the edge of the kitchen and his footsteps as he leans in to press another kiss. only two this time.

you snort when you realize when he's doing. if there's anything your boyfriend will do, it's charm you with whatever weird stunt he has up his sleeve. "you are impossible. what is this? your version of america's top model?"

"i don't hear you complaining." he walks back to his seat, watching you with lidded eyes and a small smirk filling his expression. "next one?"

you snort, changing into the last outfit for him to see. this one's far more intimate as you've bought it for special occasions. the dress is a dark maroon, it sinks down to the floor with a plunging neckline that is a wonder to the eyes. you watch as he stiffens, becking you forward with a come-hither motion on his finger.

you sway your hips as you walk, looking at him with a coy smile that he most certainly loves. before you have the chance to lean down, he shoots up, pressing three kisses on your lips, and another on your exposed chest.

his hands wrap around your waist, tilting your chin so that you meet his eyes. "next one."

"that was the last one." you quirk an eyebrow, squinting when he grins. "what?"

"try my clothes. i'll give you full scores for every outfit."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒: gets you anything and everything that reminds him of you, reminds you of your worth every day, charming to the point that your mother wants you to marry him asap.

rin, yukimiya, bachira, reo

"hey, i know you're a big-time pro-athlete now but that doesn't mean you need to spend all your money on me."

your boyfriend has a thing for splurging. he buys things that are almost always useless and insists on gifting them to you with a big shiny bow wrapped around it. he isn't much of a spender for himself, insists on wearing his clothes until they're somehow falling off his body but with you? his pockets are loose, wallet seemingly always filled with credit cards.

an investment for the future, he calls it.

you don't know whether to laugh at the absurdity of his words or cry because this handsomely talented individual actually sees you as part of his future. he's calling you as his future. talk about sweeping a girl off her feet.

"they're pretty. i thought you'd want to see them."

the bouquet that he sent is nothing if not pretty. it's a stunning piece of work, an arrangement of many different kinds of vividly colored flowers wrapped into a huge bundle. it's hefty in your hand and you'd be lying of you said that it isn't a treat for the eyes.

"you could have taken a picture and showed it to me through text, eh?" you walk forward, smelling the flowers in your hand, and carefully place them on the desk to put in a vase later. "you didn't need to ship it all the way from paris."

you watch as the pixelated version boyfriend shrugs, a sweet smile forming on his lips at your words. it's nighttime where he's at, and it shows through the darkness of the hotel window he currently resides in. the video shakes as he holds his phone, moving away from the window and onto a bed.

"do you like it?" he asks, propping a hand behind his head and on a pillow. "the florist recommended that one for you. she said it had a special meaning."

"yeah? tell her she has amazing taste and is very kind if you ever meet her again."

he hums, eyes hazy and laced with sleep. you smile when he tries to stifle a yawn. "you should go to sleep. it's late there, isn't it?"

"it's fine." he yawns like a puppy is your first thought when he does let it out. there's an air of tiredness around him, clearly drained from practice and a match. you giggle when he yawns again, this time stretching his hands above his head like a cat. adorable. "i wanna talk to you for a bit more. i miss you."

you soften at that. "i miss you too. just three more days, right?"

he nods at that, the smile never leaving his face. the smile, you've come to realize, is reserved especially for you. "i told the florist to write a note for you too. is it there?"

you hum, placing the phone against your mug to look for it. you've been too distracted by its beauty that you never noticed the small piece of white paper that's attached to one of the flowers' stems. the first thing that catches your eye is the list of flowers the bouquet is made from and their meaning.

roses; love, warmth. dahlia; eternal love, appreciation, commitment. chrysanthemums; loyalty, happiness, joy. ranunculus; charm and attractiveness. anemones; anticipation.

the second, is the beautiful cursive handwriting that details, "i'll love you until the last one withers."

you look back to your phone, smiling brightly at him. "thank you. this means everything to me." there's an air of happiness that surrounds him at your words, his smile brightening along with yours. there's a glint in his eye that you're suspicious of, yet you don't get to call him out for it.

"i'm glad you like it. i'm gonna head in now. i'll text you in the morning, okay?" he hums, padding from his bed and turning the light off, bathing him in a moonlit glow. "call me when you wake up."

"okay." there's always a bittersweet feeling in saying good night to him, in saying temporary farewells. your shoulders slump slightly and you nod, blowing him a kiss. "night. sweet dreams. i love you."

"i love you too, angel."

the line disconnects after a few minutes of silent staring and you sigh, turning away to find a vase for your newly bought gift. it's only when you're gently placing the flowers in that you realize one's different from the others. you chuckle, holding the fake flower to your chest. picking up your phone, your fingers glide across the screen, sending him a text you hope he'll see when he wakes.

you: who knew you were such a romantic

you: i'll love you forever. thank you. you mean the world to me.

your fingers stop as you take in the flower once more, every single one of its petals has been painted a different color. it's smooth against your hand, and you grin when you lift it to your nose to sniff. it smells like him.

you: send me your hotel address. i'm sending you a gift.

you: me.

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 7 months

Text

It's Not A Phase

Summary: You've been dating Wanda for a while now, long enough that she wants to introduce you to the Avengers. Common room photos, however, reveal a side to her that you'd never seen before... a certain emo side.

Word Count: 1288

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: mentions of killing people, but generally just fluff!

A/N: you can blame @family-house-of-m for this one

»»————-　★　————-««

Very few things in this world feel as untouchable, unobtainable, and awe-inspiring as this; the architecture of the tower is symbolic, in a way, touching the sky like a beacon of hope.

But from where you stand in the street, dwarfed by its massive, looming shadow, you've never felt so insignificant. You shove your hands deep into your pockets, huddling in on yourself despite the warm summer air, as you wait for your girlfriend to appear.

When she does, she arrives like the blossoming buds in the park, a ray of colour and joy emerging from steely grey. Just like on a walk among the flowers, you feel yourself relax upon seeing her.

You smile and open your arms for an embrace that she willingly falls into, then she giggles into your neck.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart," you murmur when she pulls back, though your arms still drape over her shoulders. It's the truth too, with her long hair flowing free and swaying slightly in the light breeze, down to her coral and white sundress trailing her every turn. She's beautiful, and you want her to know it.

She takes your praise with a blush, pushing herself closer to your chest until your sporadic heart rate catches her attention.

"Are you nervous?"

"They're intimidating," you defend.

"They're harmless when you know them. But I'd fight any one of them if they made you uncomfortable," she promises, "and I'd win."

You know she's telling the truth, as – you assume – her team knows too. While your girlfriend may be the embodiment of summer and light, you know what she's capable of against those who hurt her loved ones.

"Getting through today without a fight is a goal I didn't expect to need."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she apologises, though you're quick to reassure her it's not a true concern. "They're going to love you, I think. Really, I'm the one who should be getting nervous."

"I don't plan to ditch you for your family; what else is there to be concerned about?"

"Oh great, another worry I didn't expect to need," she grumbles, a smile teasing her lips at the callback to your previous words. You scoff and playfully push at her shoulder with a shake of your head. She grins and pulls herself back into your arms. "It's…something else, but you'll see it when we're up there."

"Is my sweet superhero girlfriend hiding a deep secret?" you say with a fake gasp, playing into the act until she grabs your hand and pulls you into the building. "Something scandalous?" you tease again while you stand shoulder-to-shoulder in the elevator. You know without looking that she rolls her eyes, but you still don't get an answer out of her.

She interlocks her fingers with yours again just before the elevator pings, signalling your arrival at the destination. She takes a deep breath and you fear she's settled your own nerves at the expense of her own; you squeeze her hand and let her lead you forward into the common room.

"She's back everyone!" The yell takes you by surprise and before you know it you've jumped away from the voice and into your girlfriend, who shoots a glare at the laughing redhead.

"Natasha, this is Y/N. Y/N, Natasha."

"Um, nice to meet you," you greet, moving forward to shake her hand despite the flush of embarrassment lingering on your face.

Natasha clasps your hand, returning the greeting with a polite "pleasure to meet you too". Even if her smirk never fades and she tracks her eyes first over you, then over your girlfriend.

You cast a nervous glance behind you, before stepping back to your girlfriend's side; she smiles encouragingly at you, which fades when her gaze falls back to Natasha.

"Where are the others?"

"On their way, I'd assume. Did you not hear me shout for them?"

"We heard," the girl beside you huffs, drawing another smirk out of the older woman.

Natasha turns to you again, "they really are all excited to meet you, Y/N. Wanda's told us so much about you."

Before you can ask about what she's said, the room suddenly crowds with an influx of Avengers, all talking over each other to introduce themself to you first. Red wisps wrap around you and pull you free from the crowd to stand slightly behind her, the witch putting herself between you and the team until they prove they can act reasonably.

They don't take the hint and Natasha notices the growing stress of both you and your girlfriend, so she drops the teasing act in order to command the crowd into a line. You're surprised by the rapid change in pace from her drawing enjoyment from your fear and embarrassment to defending you against the rabid Avengers hoard. Wanda doesn't seem quite so shocked, as if she knew Natasha's allegiance all along – of course, that is very possible, considering they're teammates while you'd only met the redhead five minutes before.

Thanks to the assassin's work, however, you're soon able to greet each Avenger one by one, all with an opinion on your relationship with Wanda ranging from: "She's been so much happier since knowing you," to "Why on earth would you date my sister?"

The latter came, of course, from Pietro, Wanda's older twin brother. He took his self-assigned role as Wanda's protector very seriously: testing your grip on the handshake, glaring from across the room, and criticising his sister in the expectation that you'd say wonderful things about her to prove him wrong. You expect the "I'll hurt you if you hurt my sister," talk to come any day now, especially if you end up hanging out in the Avengers tower more frequently.

Regardless, he seems to approve for now, nodding his head and letting you walk farther into the common space, where you notice a very interesting picture up on the wall. You step closer almost without thinking, and certainly without comprehending your girlfriend's hesitant interruption behind you.

You turn back to her with a wide grin across your face and a sparkle in your eyes that she can't help but smile at, even if her eyes display a tense dread waiting for your reaction.

"Did my girlfriend…" you begin, edging back towards her, "my sweet, summer girlfriend… have an emo phase?" You're standing right in front of her now, foreheads practically touching as you interlace her fingers in yours, grinning knowingly.

"It's not a phase," Pietro teases, though his mouth is promptly shut in a red mist.

"Yeah, she's still emo-" Tony continues in his place. He is silenced too, but your eyes widen and Wanda realises that it's too late.

"Not so summery after all, huh?" you whisper for only her to hear.

"Not with them."

"I love getting to see that side of you." You punctuate it with a kiss, before speaking up for the whole team to hear you again. "Was that the big secret?" She nods. "Oh, my love, you didn't have to worry about that, I'll stand by you through any style you choose. I thought it was going to be that you'd killed someone or something!"

"...I mean, I have done that," she says bluntly. You look up at the team to see if she's joking, but they're all in various stages of thought themselves: slight grimaces, scratching heads, slow nods, and all avoiding eye contact.

"You all have, haven't you?" you ask.

"Missions aren't without their casualties," comes Natasha's reply; her voice is flat, but you can see the strained nonchalance with which she shrugs and you pull Wanda closer.

"I'll love you no matter what, even through your big, dark, emo secret."

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin (I couldn't tell if you wanted to be tagged in everything or just Jeff, so it it's just for Jeff fics please let me know :) )

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #ikan writes

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neverinadream · 8 months

Text

The Birthday Boy

Summary: Celebrations start early for the birthday boy...

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: The Kind of Love We Make - Luke Combs

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, fluff-ish, pre-established relationship, dom!christian, sub!reader, semi public, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), 'slutty' is used in relation to the reader like once, praise kink-ish, nipple play, grinding, choking, biting, fingering, i think that's it's it...not edited

Notes: if i can't give the birthday boy birthday head then i'll write some smut instead, been a while since i wrote smut. feedback is always appreciated

"I don't know if I haven't told you this already, but you look so beautiful tonight," Christian says, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting on your hip, after leaving your seat and plopping yourself down in his lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, the slight shadow of a beard tickling you. "But you didn't need to do all of this for me."

"Of course, I did," you disagree, your face inches from his. Butterflies swarm your belly as you notice the amber flecks scattered within his brown eyes. "It's your birthday," you continue, pressing your hand against his chest, "and since I know you'd prefer to have us curled up on the sofa, facetiming your parents, and watching reruns of Gossip Girl, rather than dining at some Michelin star restaurant...-"

Christian interrupts you with a chuckle, breaking your chain of thoughts for barely a second; just long enough for you to allow his laugh to wash over you.

"...-I had to try and make it somewhat special for you." You look back at the table, looking back at your empty plates, the candles slowly burning, casting a soft glow across your balcony, and the wine glasses still half full with some bottle of red you had picked up earlier that day. "Even if I did burn it a little bit."

His heart thumps inside his chest knowing you had gone out of your way to do all this for him. "Still," he mumbles, moving his hand to cup your face, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip, before sliding down to your chin, "slightly burnt food or not, you've made today better than I could have ever imagined." He was never going to used to the effect you had on him.

"Now you just have competition."

He grins. "Oh yeah?"

His tone is playful, and it ignites that same familiar fire from the first night you both met, when a tipsy and overly confident Christian had challenged the only person in the room who had yet to crack a smile to a game of beer pong.

"It's not that I don't trust your ability to make my birthday special," you shrug your shoulders, "but I think this will be pretty hard to top."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Your eyes are locked, and a searing heat fills your chest with anticipation of his next move as Christian leans closer. He presses his thumb against your bottom lip, being careful not to smudge your lipstick. "Beautiful," he says, simple and effective to make your breathing heavier, your chest brushing against his with each exhale.

His lips finally meet yours after what feels like an eternity. They are soft as ever, like a pillow you can sink into, and you whimper into his mouth as you sink further into his hold.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in tighter as his hand cups your cheek. His touch makes your heart thump harder, each caress soft and attentive to make you as comfortable as possible, and soon enough, you start to feel the first flicker of fire licking through your veins as he deepens the kiss, his tongue prying your mouth open. He moans at your taste, cock twitching in his pants as he completely consumes you. His reaction has heat shooting through your middle and throbs at your centre.

You break apart, temporarily disrupting the kiss to straddle him, your centre coming to rest directly on his lap. Both of you groan as you settle your weight, a grin pinching the corners of your lips as he pushes his hips up into you. He's hard and thick below you.

"What time are your parents calling?" You ask, rocking your hips forward, the length of his cock pressing against you.

He lifts his wrist, checking his watch for the time. "In like twenty minutes," he mumbles, settling his hands on your hips, guiding your movement as you work up a rhythm.

You use your hands to drag his face to yours. "Then we better make this quick."

"No need to rush," he says, lips moving down the column of your neck. He bites, sucks and kisses you, and whilst you're sure they'll be something there for his parents to see later, you can't find it in you to care. It was his birthday. If he wanted to mark every inch of your body, you would let him. "We can start now," he grazes his teeth against your jaw, "and finish it later."

"I don't want you to be too exhausted tomorrow-"

"Don't worry about me, princess," he interrupts you, the bridge of his nose slowly turning pink, "just worry about doing something for me, okay?"

Your head falls back, allowing him more access to your neck. "A-Anything," you stutter, heat licking up your neck as you grow flustered from the desperation so clear in your voice.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the spot of skin beneath your ear. "Make a mess on my lap," he whispers, his voice so deep in your ear that it has your pussy clenching around emptiness. You moan approvingly at his filthy mouth, your wetness dampening the lace beneath your red dress, and your clit throbbing as he pushes his hardened length against you. "Grind that pretty pussy on me until you're dripping through whatever slutty underwear you have on under this dress," he continues, "I want you messy for me, baby, I want to feel you through my jeans."

You loop your arms around his shoulders, slamming your lips against his, letting his tongue explore your mouth as you continue to chase your high. You could feel his cock growing more rigid with each roll of your hips, and it sent a rush of confidence through you knowing you were the only one who got to make him feel this way.

"So fucking pretty for me," he mumbles, breathless as he pulls apart.

His gaze soaks in your smudged lipstick and hooded eyes, grinning as you lock your eyes together. His hands move from your hips, sliding the straps down your shoulders, and pulling your breasts free as he tugs the front down. Your nipples pebble from the evening chill and you whimper as he takes one of them into his mouth, tongue swirling and teeth grazing against the tip.

"Do you like getting off on my lap, baby?" He asks, pinching your nipple as he releases it from his mouth. His length pulses and you suck in a gasp as it nudges and slides against your slit. "I only ask because you feel fucking amazing grinding on my cock," he twists your nipple, groaning as you bite down on his shoulder. You were trying to stop yourself from being too loud. After all, the balcony of your apartment wasn't exactly secluded from the rest of the neighbours.

Something hot coils in the base of your stomach and Christian's eyes flare as you reach to move his hand around your neck. "Please, Christian," you whimper, pressing his fingers in, wanting him to squeeze.

"Dirty, dirty girl," his fingers grip your throat tighter and he thrusts his hips, pulling a cry, sort of like a mewl, from your lips, "wanting me to choke you so you can cum." You moan, your cunt fluttering around nothing, desperately needing to be filled, as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream. "Is that it, baby?" He pulls you in by the throat, pressing his body firmly against yours. "Do you need me to squeeze your throat until you're on the edge?"

"Please," you choke, forcing it out.

He picks you up, knocking his wine glass over, the deep red spilling across the table as he drops you onto the edge. You go to turn your head but he stops you, forcing you to look up at him. "Forget about it," he forces your legs wide, hiking up your dress until it's bunched around your middle, "just focus on me. You can do that, can't you?"

You force your head to move, his touch like gasoline increasing the blaze that surged through your veins.

He grins. "Good girl."

His hand skims over your centre, the pads of his fingers running along the front of your underwear. Your hips buck, pushing into his hand as he finds your clit through the soaked material. "Look at all this mess," he tuts, pulling your underwear to the side, taking a look for himself. He licked his lips. Your wetness glistened on every part he looked. "She's just begging for me to kiss it," he purrs, your body jolting as he strokes his finger through your slit, ghosting over your clit, "needs me to look after her because you got her all messy."

He smears his finger against the seem of your lips, coating your mouth in your wetness. "Taste good, don't you, baby?" He licks your lips, tasting your juices off your own mouth. "It's a shame I'll have to wait to get a proper taste."

His hand is back at your core, spreading your lips open with two fingers, the chilled air finding your swollen clit making you gasp. "Watch 'em, baby," he instructs, circling his fingers at your entrance, the anticipation of them filling you makes your stomach clench, "watch how easily they disappear." You pan your eyes down and watch his two fingers push into your cunt, your back arching and hips bucking at their intrusion. He pulls them out, a sheen of your juices coating them. "She's so pretty with two of my fingers deep inside her," he purrs, pushing them back inside until he meets resistance.

Your hand flies up and wraps around his wrist, his forearm tensing under your palm, the veins protruding underneath his skin. "That's it," you choke out, moaning as your clit throbs and pulsates under his thumb. He applies more pressure, stroking it in hard circles. His fingers curl inside you, making your eyes roll and your vision rim black as they brush against the right spot. "Gonna cum-..."

He watches your mouth open in a silent scream, and continues to pump his fingers, scissoring them to stretch and fill up more space. Your inner walls clench tight around them, milking them like they would his cock, and it pulses with just the thought of it occurring later tonight. He might have taken you here on this balcony if he didn't have the incoming phone call from his parents.

"That's it; give it to me," his breath coats your face, fingers softening around your throat, leaving kisses along your jaw, "give it all to me." Satisfaction burrows deep inside your chest like a blanket of warmth wrapping tightly around you, and you slump your head against his shoulder, sucking in deep breaths as you try to catch it. "Such a good girl," he whispers sweetly into your ear, pulling the front of your dress up and fixing the straps.

Blowing out a breath, you lift your chin and look up at him. "Any chance you can't push the phone call back by like at least another thirty minutes?" You cheekily ask, fingers playing with the belt loops on his jeans.

A laugh rattles around his chest, his smile bright and wide. "Unfortunately not." He moves your hands, wrapping your arms around his middle before your hands can wonder.

"Fine," you pout, "but I get to make the birthday boy cum next."

Christian dips to find your mouth, humming as the taste of you still lingers on your lips. "Already looking forward to it."

———————

Taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @spicysainz @thoseboysinblue @kickinganddriving @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @chilwellspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @masonsrem @landoslover @kathb59 @emcv1427 @gagaslonina @afterpills

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you

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cieloclercs · 10 months

Note

hi!! can i pls request an ollie bearman drabble of waking up next to him and cuddling and him being all clingy and cute thank you!!!

here you go! i absolutely loved writing this so i hope you enjoy it 🥰

pairings. ollie bearman x reader

word count. 0.8k

warnings. flufff oh my god so much fluff (i’m still smiling like a maniac after writing this hsjhsjs)

read under the cut

mornings like these — ollie bearman

IT'S THE SUNLIGHT shining through the crack in your blinds that wakes you. Warm against your bare shoulder like the tender brush of his skin on yours, it's your second favourite wake-up call. The first lies next to you, tangled up in your sheets. His head lies on your chest where he'd rested it last night before you both drifted off into blissful sleep, and you can feel his soft, steady breaths dart across your skin. The sensation is familiar, comforting. You've woken up in his embrace too many times to count, yet it still feels new every morning that your eyes crack open to find his angelic face tucked into the crook of your neck — never failing, not once, to make your heart flutter.

Ollie soon stirs. He seems to have some kind of sixth sense for when you're awake, because not once have you ever had time to get out of bed before he pulls himself out of his sleep. You don't complain though. Mornings like these are, in many ways, your favourite part of the day. You love the slowness of it all, the lack of urgency when you have nowhere to be, and you can adjust to the dawn in your own time; hands exploring, sweet nothings whispered into ears, kisses lingering on your collarbone. This is the time when you're sure Ollie must be some kind of angel. The sun shines in his hair, leaving a soft glow on one side of his face where the other is left in shadow — yes, you're sure, he must be an angel. What you've done to deserve someone like him is beyond you, but you're certain, he has no right to exist when he looks that perfect; when he is that perfect, inside and out.

"You're staring." He breaks the silence first. His voice is raspy, head still buried into your chest, so you can feel the vibrations of his words against your skin. You chuckle. Your hands find his hair, threading through the soft curls tenderly.

"Can't I admire my boyfriend?" you shoot back, a grin playing on your lips that though he can't see, he can definitely sense. You know because his own lips stretch into a smile, now against your neck as he shifts. A few beats of silence pass, and he rolls over onto his side with a groan. You look down at him, messy hair, honeyed eyes and all. Your heart aches, because you've never known someone so beautiful as him. You hope you'll never have to go searching for one.

"I suppose I can allow it." Ollie murmurs. You let your fingers fall from his curls momentarily, until his dopey smile drops into a frown, and he pushes his head back into your hand. "On one condition." he says, sighing contentedly as you continue your movements.

"What's that, Bear?" you whisper.

Ollie cranes his neck up. He knows what he's doing, with his round eyes and pouted lips, looking so innocent, so angelic, how could you ever refuse him anything? Perhaps that makes him not quite so innocent — he knows exactly how to twist you around his little finger. You're a simple girl, after all.

"Cuddles?" he asks. The faintest of blushes bloom across his cheeks, just as they always do when he asks you this question. Even if you've been dating since you were both in your mid-teens, he'll always be shy when it comes to asking for your affection. You don't know why he needs to ask, but you find it adorable, so once again, you don't complain.

"C'mere." you giggle, and, needing no further invitation, he all but dives into your arms. A kiss is left on your forehead before he nuzzles his face back into your neck. His arms pull you in close, and you wrap your legs around his waist. It doesn't take long, in the silence and the warmth, for your breathing to sync and the velvet blanket of sleep to embrace you both once more. You're still vaguely aware of your surroundings, when Ollie murmurs the tiniest of I love yous into your skin. You whisper it back without hesitation.

Mornings like these stretch away in a blur of tangled sheets and golden sunlight. Every dip and curve of your bodies slot together like pieces of a puzzle; like you were made for each other. You sigh, hands in his hair, his fingers running up and down your ribs. He'll have to leave soon — with his job, he always has to — but you know he'll come back to you again, wrap you up in his arms, kiss you like you've been apart for years. You live for it. You wouldn't give it up for the world.

requests are open! send something in if you’d like <3

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gimmethatagustd · 11 months

Text

what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm.

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared.

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt.

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief.

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers.

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land.

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down.

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.”

You scrunch your nose at kiddo.

“I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.”

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug.

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face.

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole.

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in.

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful.

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees.

But he thinks you’re just a kid.

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would.

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field.

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.”

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth.

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart.

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours.

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?”

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone.

“I don’t know.”

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything.

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag.

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors.

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour.

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest.

“Aghh!”

“Pay attention.”

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass.

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field.

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!”

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles.

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises.

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks.

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.”

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass.

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin.

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about.

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile.

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning.

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away.

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.”

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook.

“I hurt all over, Joonie.”

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.”

“Sparring.”

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-”

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air.

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again.

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap.

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze.

“You did not.”

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle.

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.”

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.”

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.”

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods.

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong.

“Impossible?”

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away.

“I…”

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small.

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.”

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was.

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population.

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for.

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.”

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame.

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.”

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat.

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent.

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words.

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins.

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.”

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess.

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill.

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon.

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement.

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled.

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped.

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed.

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term.

You probably would have done the same.

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort.

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them.

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles.

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.”

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon.

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once.

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.”

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work.

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there.

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care.

“Not working?”

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.”

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway.

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months.

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.”

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away.

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?”

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street.

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor.

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.”

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run.

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder.

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.”

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method.

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?”

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest.

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded.

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms.

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined.

“How?”

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.”

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface.

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you.

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal.

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?”

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach.

“No.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down.

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars.

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.”

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.”

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown.

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to.

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.”

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology.

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing.

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you.

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway.

“Oh, I need to ask you-”

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training.

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him.

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong.

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans.

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest.

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?”

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy.

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.”

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further.

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.”

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either.

“But, okay,” you relent softly.

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders.

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable.

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair.

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly.

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles.

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?”

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks.

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.”

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.”

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!”

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself.

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own.

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone.

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it.

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far.

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him.

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends.

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him.

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize.

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way.

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you.

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly.

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around.

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group.

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do.

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact.

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold.

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body.

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says.

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them.

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist.

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you.

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s.

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared.

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established.

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case.

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.”

“Me and Jungkook what?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.”

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins.

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.”

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.”

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head.

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.”

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers.

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-”

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move.

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible.

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either.

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole.

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow.

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone?

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body.

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive.

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead.

“Where did you-”

“Shhh.”

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens.

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing.

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you.

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes.

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.”

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing…

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?”

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out.

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route.

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.”

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally.

“He’s okay.”

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor.

“He’s bleeding.”

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.”

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.”

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying.

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world.

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly.

“But you didn’t?”

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear.

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then…

He’s gone.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself.

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms.

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him.

“You never showed me before.”

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm.

“That’s because it’s creepy.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.”

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness.

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing.

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do.

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you.

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head.

You and Jungkook?

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?”

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.”

“What if they’re the feds?”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?”

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.”

“But-”

“No one talks.”

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason.

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless.

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from.

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate.

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung.

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers.

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune.

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.”

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose.

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.”

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man.

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states.

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you.

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff.

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door.

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.”

PART ONE - PART TWO

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

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rainystarters · 3 months

Text

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.

dialogue :

are you sure you want to marry him?

oh! how you must want me!

soon.

i had never been vain until i met you.

anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.

all the better to see you.

what is that key? the key to your heart?

every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

all is yours, everywhere is open to you.

but now... what shall i do now?

my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.

there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

you are in some great distress.

any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

oh god. i can smell the blood.

i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!

can't it wait until morning, my darling?

who can say what i deserve or no?

i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.

good fellow? i am no good fellow.

forgive me for robbing your garden!

all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.

and what else was there to be done?

they are the death of any tender herbivore.

so late! you will want sleep.

you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.

i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.

i am sick and i must die.

if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.

i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.

i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.

if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.

for all my pride, my heart is heavy.

if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.

i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

you are a woman of honor.

nothing human lives here.

we have dispensed with servants.

take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?

all cats are cynics.

you read my thoughts, my love.

the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.

all will fall still, all lapse.

it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.

i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.

there are some eyes can eat you.

sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.

eat me, drink me.

dive in and fetch it for me.

now you are at the place of annihilation.

and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.

can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?

beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.

a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.

be he alive or be he dead.

coffee. you must have coffee.

welcome. welcome to my chateau.

i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.

this place is so lonely.

now the village is deserted.

often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.

i must apologize for the lack of light.

you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

i am condemned to solitude and dark.

i do not mean to hurt you.

i will be very gentle.

and could love free me from the shadows?

i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.

you will feel no pain, my darling.

so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.

the end of exile is the end of being.

it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.

the devil is as real as you or i.

do not leave the path.

you are always in danger in the forest.

they are as unkind as plague.

fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.

besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?

actions :

clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.

opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.

choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.

carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.

spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.

cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.

ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.

keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.

harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.

lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.

call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.

note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.

death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.

hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.

servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.

hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.

hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.

bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.

reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.

bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.

voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.

powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.

stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.

weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.

dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.

flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.

prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.

song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.

caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.

green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.

tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.

stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.

wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.

thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.

china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.

blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.

wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.

muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.

#rp memes #action rp memes #fantasy rp memes #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #rp prompts #rp starters #action prompts

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squerlly · 2 months

Text

flames of desire chapter 6: troublesome

Alastor x (f! bunny reader)

your POV: Earlier this morning Alastor had made breakfast again and Charlie called everyone over, heading out I take a seat next to angel, a plate waiting for me. Alastor had made French toast topped with powder sugar, I don't quite remember the last time I had French toast, picking up my fork I cut a piece off taking a bite letting out a satisficed hum in response. while everyone was eating angel was talking about wanting to go to a nightclub later today "angel the point of redemption is to clean yourself of sins" "oh cmon its just a bit of drinken, I promise I wont do drugss~ y/n you'll come with me wont ya?" stopping mid bite I put my fork down "uhm angel... I haven't been out to drink in a while and besides I'm not very good at holding my-" "nahh it will be fun trust me, ill take care of ya!" "I- I mean I guess" "great later tonight, dress in somethin sexy, ya never know who might be there~" I roll my eyes as I finish my food.

Alastors POV: a night club? I would have never taken y/n for a person who enjoys such activity's...especially with angel, that could be troublesome. "angel perhaps you should take somebody else with you, wouldn't want another mishap like last time~" "now how the fuck did you know about that!!!" "I know everything angel..." "your fucken creepy" "you could be more clever with your words" "whatever well be fine Val wouldn't be there, I hope..." not very convincing "well its none of my business what happens to you, just don't drag others along when something does"

your POV: Alastor left the table leaving everyone else to finish there food. during the evening I help niffty with some cleaning, husk threw up on the carpet from drinking to much and she needed help cleaning the stain. after what felt like hours the floor was clean and it was time for me to get ready for tonight. walking back to my room I rummage through my closet seeing if I have any nice outfits or dresses, I stumbled upon one dress that was all black, it had an open back stopping above my tail with thin straps and a semi deep V line, it was long enough that it covered but one wrong move and its over, putting it on it was well fitted, hugging my waist nicely. I never had time to do my makeup so I went to angels room to help with my hair and face "well babes you look good enough to eat~ if I liked girls" "thanks angel", while he did my hair we laughed and talked, "if you don't stop moving while I'm doing ya eyeliner were gonna fight" "its to close to my eye!" "its eyeliner!!!". eventually we were done getting ready and he dragged me to his bathroom mirror, "angel I- I look so..." "hot?" I huff out a laugh "yeah ok" "ill meet you downstairs?" I nod heading out of the room to the lobby.

Alastors POV: Charlie and I were discussing her idea about hosting a "party" for sinners who are interested in redemption but she described it more like a ball. it wasn't bad idea but I'm sure people would only be there for the food. this idea lasted in my mind for a short while before Charlie let out an ear wrenching squeal "Charlie dear please do not-..." y/n walked into the lobby in a dress that I was not to keen on letting her leave outside with but my she looked beautiful. "y/n you look amazing!!!" "oh thank you Charlie, I'm not quite used to dressing like this..." "well my dear it is an interesting choice of clothing but you look wonderful" you look like I'm gonna have to murder a few people later "thanks alastor" "of course my dear, now if you excuse me I have some business to attend to"

your POV:

seeing angel walk out "alright babes you ready to party!!" "angel please please pleaseee!!!! be safe" "well be fine Charlie well be back before ya miss us" as we walk out of the hotel we head to the club that angel frequents at.

Alastors POV:

watching angel and y/n leave I turn to the hallway seeing my shadow grinning at me "follow them" with a nod it leaves, I'm not letting her out of my sight, especially looking like that...that's asking for trouble I will not allow

your POV:

walking into the club the music was so loud you could hear it from outside, the place was crowded and reeked of alcohol and cigarettes'. holding onto angels hand for dear life we finally manage to reach the bar "what can I get you to hotties" looking at angel I shrug, not knowing this place all to well "ill get a sex on the beach and shell get a margarita thanks~" "a margarita?" "oh cmon gotta start off strong" "your paying for my funeral" as the bar tender slides over our drinks we both clink glasses as we start off our night.

one hour into the night and I have lost angel, the effects of having to many drinks to count starting to kick in, pushing my way past the crowd looking for angel I bump into somebody tall somebody familiar?....wait no that's- "is that the little conejita I see~ well isn't that a surprise, what brings you to my club? back for a job~" "V-Val oh uhm I'm not-" slurring my words he drags me to a booth sitting me on his lap "somebody's had to much to drink today~" "no I have to go I'm looking for-" "now now leaving already, sit and stay a while let me treat you for a bit" trying to slip off his lap his two bottom hands have me held by the waist and I knew drunk or sober, that I was in deep shit...

because I was a day late I will be posting 2 chapters today so stay ready for the best ideas I have to bring to life I love you all hope you enjoyed and stay tunned~

-squerlly

@pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content and chapter please click this masterlist

#hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n

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ohnonononononono567 · 3 months

Text

Bit by Bit - Simon "Ghost" Riley x m!reader (mostly angsty)

Continuation of Games btw (Here you go @aliciamorov bro, i gotchu)

"I love you."

"I don't want to love you."

A sentiment he heard from some highschool girlfriend he had for two weeks. Back when love meant skipping your shift at the arcade to buy them Mickey D's.

Back when love was finding peace from your crap father and the butcher shop wouldn't let you pick up more shifts.

He had said it stupidly. In her bed, having done nothing more than drink a beer stolen from her father and his lips swollen from her insistent biting while they made out. Her giggling filling the room, always had a sense of humor that one.

Sitting next to her, hands interlaced, his words slipped out. When she hissed out her reply, he felt a chill run up his spine. Never a fan of snakes.

She liked him nonetheless. She wasn't heartless. But she'd leave for a bloke going to the same college as her next week anyways.

After enlisting, he learned why he was wrong to say what he had said.

Love was strong. And he was weak. He was weak for the way you laughed, for the way your face scrunched up in the morning. He was weak when he yelled at you. He was a weak man. It was shitty to let a girl he can't even bother to remember the name of linger in his mind. But it kept at his brain every second of the day.

When he allowed a thing—No, a person—a person like you into the cracked parts of his being, you filled it with gold. Bit, by bit. You didn't "fix" him. You weren't a psychiatrist picking at his brain and trying to poke and understand why his mindset was "toxic" and "self destructive." You just made him see the beauty he always gloated about.

He wasn't ugly, far from it, but he saw that gnawing pit growing inside him as the ugliest part of him. And that was what was disgusting. It was a part of him.

Yet a man like you never saw him as disgusting. You never saw the chill of 300 bugs crawling inside your skin begging to acknowledge you're a piece of shit on this earth.

You saw a man, in distress.

You didn't tell him to toughen up. You never even touched him if he didn't allow it.

Simon always told himself he'd never allow another man make him feel weak like his father did. It's why he'd find himself fidgeting at your door, wondering if it's even worth it to walk in with those flowers he'd know you'd die for.

But when you open that door, staring at him, and that goddamn dog jumps to meet him, those thoughts leave.

He wants to love you. He wants to be the one to carry the privilege of loving you. But he's weak. And you'll learn to seek better. You're a tough man, and life will fall onto you.

And in his weakness, he'll be unable to carry the burden of hurting you by leaving. So he'll tell himself he's not loving you.

He'll allow you to give him that squeeze in the airport before he leaves. He'll tell you that you'll always be his man. That all his happiness lies with you. He wants it to be true. He knows you'd never want to love him. So he'll protect himself. Internally he'll tell himself he's not in love with the bubbly man who stands in front of him, with their lips connecting.

You see every part of him. And you know he'll realize it's love. He feels what you feel, maybe even stronger.

Bit by bit, he'll realize it.

I DONT WRITE AND I WROTE THIS WHILE IM SAD PWEASE BE NICE :(( (Edit: nobody told me writing #[blank] wasnt the same as tagging your posts i thought i was shadow banned lol)

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unseededtoast · 8 months

Text

Masterlist

This is a masterlist of my works I've posted so far! As of right now, all of my fics/oneshots are cross-posted on AO3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats!

I apologize in advance for an inconsistent upload schedule; my job is quite time demanding. But I am thankful for your patience, and I try my hardest to make the waits worthwhile.

-----

Joel Miller

Turtle Doves:

Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. Updates every weekend.

Bucky Barnes

Rectify:

Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.

Antedate: Prequel to Rectify

Summary: Sometimes making the right decision feels like the wrong one. That decision can stick with you for years and leave you wondering what would happen if you had chosen something else. But the alternatives likely lead to a much darker path; you'll never know for sure though. One thing is for certain, the decisions I have made will have lasting consequences.

Spencer Reid

All works are Reid x F! Reader

Oneshots:

See How It Shines:

Summary: In which you leave the Quantico office for your "dream job" only to find you lost much more than you gained. Based off Hozier's song "Abstract"

One Bright Morning:

Summary: After the most traumatic experience of your life, Spencer guides you through the darkness to one bright morning that changes everything between the two of you. Based off Hozier's song "First Light"

Light As A Feather:

Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Based off Hozier's song "I, Carrion (Icarion)".

We'll Be Alright:

Summary: In which you discover that the line between love and hate is quite fine. Your actions are done out of love, but they only make you hate yourself more and more. Inspired by "Fine Line" by Harry Styles

Begin Again:

Summary: In which things abruptly ended between you and Spencer, and you’ve never been able to reconcile your emotions over the relationship, or losing him. When presented a second chance on a silver platter, you’re grateful for the chance to begin again. Based off Hozier’s song “All Things End”.

I’ve Got My Eye On You:

Summary: A piece of Spencer Reid died the day Tobias Hankle kidnapped and tortured him. Seeing your friend in desperate need of help, you take it upon yourself to keep an eye on him and help him every step of the way. Inspired by “Say Yes To Heaven” by Lana Del Rey.

When Was It Over?:

Summary: You had suspicions that another woman was receiving Spencer’s affections, and one night your worst fears are confirmed. Heartbroken, you try to move on but find yourself contemplating when things went wrong, and when it was all over. Inspired by “Is It Over Now?” By Taylor Swift

I'd Wait For You:

Summary: In which you find that a broken engagement leads you to the love of your life. Inspired by “J’s Lullaby” by Delaney Bailey.

Thin Air:

Summary: In which you realize how much you lost when you accepted a new job, and that you may be destined to only share fleeting moments with the one who has your heart.

Multi-Parts:

1.Shadow of Obsession:

Summary: In which you find that love is an obsession that can quickly spiral out of control. Multi-part series

(Part One | Part Two | Part Three)

2. I Stayed There:

Summary: After an eye-opening case, Spencer realizes that his job puts you in too much danger. Loving you too much to put you in harm's way, he does the only thing he can think of that would ensure your safety. Years pass by slowly, and neither you nor Spencer are able to move on. Inspired by “Right Where You Left Me” by Taylor Swift. (Part 1/2)

Take My Hand:

Summary: In which almost a decade later unlikely paths cross again, with little time to make big decisions. What once was broken can be mended, and the past can be forgiven. Frozen hearts can be reignited and destined souls can become one again. But only if given the chance. Inspired by “Right Where You Left Me” and “Willow” by Taylor Swift. (Part 2/2)

3. Glimpse Of Us:

Summary: After a painful breakup, you and Spencer try and move on, but find yourselves seeking out each other in different people. Inspired by "Glimpse Of Us" by Joji. (Part 1/2)

All I Know:

Summary: Five years after leaving Spencer Reid, it seems that fate might have given you a second chance. Inspired by "Everything Has Changed" by Taylor Swift/Ed Sheeran (Part 2/2)

#bucky barnes #masterlist #fanfiction #fanfic masterlist #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #bucky barnes x oc #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic

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thithesandofferings · 1 year

Text

Just thinking about how instances Cloud/Seph/Zack would be as mystical creatures loving you.

Tags: NSFW (but- mildly lol) , dubcon, light choking, breeding- idk how I got here but here ya go

Cloud- Water Nymph

You are lost when you see him. Blood rushing with trembling hands, you see cerulean blue eyes peer out of the water at you. You'd never seen anything so beautiful. You, who is almost jealous of the sun, the way it kisses his slickened blonde strands. Thousands of bejeweled memories embedded and loved. He's shy when you approach him, sinking silently into the water, his eyes unblinking up at you. Beseeching. Dragging you further. You make a vow that you want to be with him forever. You've known him for a long time right? It doesn't matter that you've forgotten why you were lost, or even who you were. Nothing matters when his hands close over your cheeks and he asks you to open your mouth, just for him. Humming in pleased delight when you obey immediately. Water from where he surrounds himself, comes in contact with your tongue and the world becomes fuzzy. When he curls his tongue around yours and his thrusts match the waves of the water, you think you can understand what "home" is. There is no alarm gracing your heart, only pleasure when he tells you to come. That you'll be his forever as he fucks you into the water that matches the deep possessiveness of his eyes.

Sephiroth- Vampire

It's cold tonight and maybe you should've brought a jacket. You don't think anything will warm you up, your shiver is far from cold. There's fear tingling and trailing up your fingers and forearms, stabbing you in the heart. You've seen him before. Many times. In your peripheral, in your shadows, before you turn around- he's always there but out of sight. Eyes so green, you're always too overwhelmed to look at him. They haunt you in your dreams. Even if you think the morning will save you, the quietness in your home sounds as if there is someone holding their breath, waiting for you to close your eyes and tonight is no different. It's too dark, and you're too alone. But you're so tired, exhausted from watching over your shoulder and jumping when the wind blows wrong. When you stop at an alley way it seems the best. "Come out" you whisper. You know he can hear you. So when you feel warmth at your back, there is relief. All that fear feels silly now when long silver strands stroke your cheek as he drags a hand up to cup the front of your neck. Whimpering when he squeezes lightly. You close your eyes in defeat, leaning back, earning you a pleased hum and kiss brushed along your neck. You glance with lidded eyes up at him to see a very satisfied green eyed gaze. It holds you down better than any chains can. He whispers that he's glad you've come to your senses to let him in. He's waited a long time for you. There is nothing to hold to when his cock drags against your walls with his fanged teeth piercing through your neck. No reality to set foot on when he holds you by the throat and forces you still, shushes you so you can hear the slick noises your body makes for him. Only for him.

Zack- Werewolf

It was just a simple solo camping trip. You wanted to be alone. You knew a place that was quiet, away from all the noise that chases you. And yet, you didn't heed the warnings of "there's something out there" made by everyone you'd crossed paths with. You thought they were being selfish. But when you lay next to the fire and start to drift off, you began to regret it because you hear a crack of a twig and the growl of...something. When you're shaking and heaving from running, you realize what you'd been hearing behind the gasping was laughter. The beast was laughing at you. You widen your eyes because his smile is an easy smile and he is ethereal. Tall and dark hair to match the night, your heart stutters at his dewy grin and strong hands that wrap around you with no problems. He waits to your heart rate calms down before he kisses you. Wet and possessive, he holds you by the jaw licking into your mouth as much as possible. When he has you on your tummy and stretching you open with his fingers, his growl permeates your whole body. Electric blues capture your eyes and he grins. Licking down your spine and telling you how good you are and how good he's going to be to you. How well he's going to take of you. His mate. Gasping and clenching around his knot has him howling in pleasure. Fucks you into the dirt over and over so that it takes. So that you're full of his cum and eventually-his pups.

#ff7 #cloud x reader #sephiroth x reader #zack x reader #zack fair #sephiroth #cloud strife #ff7 x reader #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii #churchboxconfession

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therealgloomygirl · 11 days

Text

req: Hi I really liked your fic with Athena and I would like the same fic with Hades if you don't mind. Thanks in advance!

yandere PJO! Hades x demigod! darling 💀🐺👑 - general hcs

I would like to start off by establishing that I truly and firmly believe that Hades would NEVER hurt you or torture you like some of the other gods and goddesses *agressive coughing* Athena, Ares and Hera *more aggresive coughing*

Well and truly he is too in love with you to even THINK about that

I mean have you seen how he reacted to Persephone hating him at the start of their relationship???

Anyways, I believe that the way you would meet is if you were a mother figure to Nico

Nico was immediately drawn to you, an older camper who had stayed back to help Chiron as a counsellor

You weren't afraid of him like most other councellors, rather, like Percy and Annabeth, you saw him as more of what he was; a child who just needed love and affection, a neglected and abandoned child who had to grow up too soon

He's rightfully suspicious and offstanding to you at first but if you act the correct way around him, he definitely takes to you

He starts opening up to you about different things, how he felt about his sister's death, how he felt about Jason's death and how he was struggling to see the point in anything

Comforting him at any time late in the night because he's anxious and depressed and being the one to introduce him to Will also helps :)

I think after he starts dating Will is when he takes you to introduce you to his dad because he finally feels like he has a mother

And that is when you, unfortunately, catch the attention of the Lord of the Dead himself

It's very very hard to gain Nico's trust, considering what he's been through, Hades knew you must have a heart of gold or atleast cared about Nico to have one around him

He finds you intriguing, the way you stand tall to him and only give him a stiff bow, how you roam about and talk to his ghoul servants with ease and of course, how well you're able to take care of and calm down Nico

So his inner stalker starts acting up and he starts sending his servants to spy on you, following you around in the darkness, watching you in the shadows, showing up in your dreams, resulting in them melting into nightmares

Waking up trembling and sweating because of the horrifying creatures and distant memories tormenting you :(

Hades hates tormenting (traumatizing) you but he can't really help it since he needs to know your routine to kidnap you

Actually, I don't know why I censored that, he does kidnap you

He basically sends his furies on your ass which sucks for you but he had no choice

Like imagine just having a quiet, comfortable time in your cabin, all alone with just a nice book and your favourite drink

And then screeching she-demons descend on you and literally drag you all the way to the underworld

Of course, you were having absolutely NONE of that, kicking and screaming

But he gets you eventually

As soon as they deposited you in your bedroom, the man himself comes to see you

Hades confesses to you immediately and tells you he loves you

You immediately remember the story of Persephone and shove him away in horror

From then on, it's just a never ending cycle of him trying to win you over with his wealth and confessions of undying love

Visiting your bedroom everyday with flowers from Persephone's garden

They're beautiful of course but that doesn't mean you'll forgive him

Chucking things from your incredibly expensive bedroom at him while he just stands there and stares at you sadly before leaving

Yelling at him and begging for him to take you back home but he just shakes his head no and apologizes to you over and over

This could go either of two ways, depending on the kind of person you are

1. You keep fighting against him until you finally give in, accepting your situation and deciding to make the most of it

2. You accept his love, thinking that it's better to have undying love than mortal love

He'll be delighted when you finally storm out of your room and go to his throne room, calmly informing him that you accept his proposal

He ADORES you

He's very clingy and he wants you in the throne room with him at all times

He's the kind of person to stare at you for hours and get completely distracted from his job

Like most of the times, you're gonna have to be the one to interview the souls who come to meet him because he's too busy gazing at you

He loves being romantic and will wake you up every day with flowers

He isn't very touchy-feely, he's more of a gift giver kind of person

I mean, he's the god of wealth for god's sake

He will literally get you ANYTHING you want

Even if it's sold out EVERYWHERE, he will personally commission Hephaestus to make it for you

Literally dream of anything, anything that you could possibly want and boom, the next morning, you wake up with it on your bedside table

All he wants in return is a little kiss every day and you telling him you love him

He's one of the gods who will let you roam the above world

He knows that he treats you so well, you'll come back to him anyways

He loves taking you on romantic dates to literally any place you want

Renting out the Eiffel tower just for the two of you is quite the common occurrence, it's his favourite place for a date <3

Complete gentleman, notices everything about you and will literally just chuck money at people, gods, ghosts and monsters alike to make whatever you want happen

Even the slightest show of affection from you is enough to make this poor god pass OUT

Like imagine picking a pretty flower from the above world for him and presenting it to him in the throne room??

He almost fainted of happiness and immediately ordered it to be planted in the royal garden so he could go and gaze at it for eternity

He's in the seventh heaven when you tell him you love him

For everyone wondering what's going on on the Persephone aspect of things, I think she'd be pretty damn pissed at first

Not only because he kidnapped ANOTHER girl

But also because that's her husband??

But unlike Minthe, he actually defends you and refuses to let her hurt you or turn you into a plant and crush you

Eventually, depending on your behaviour and attitude towards her, Persephone will either hate you but not do anything about it, learn to tolerate you OR she'll love you <3

Maybe a little too much....

I mean, you caught her husband's eye....so surely there's something about you that intrigues her too....

But that's a good thing!.....right?

Good luck to you if she ends up turning yandere for you because she is definitely not as soft-hearted and non-violent as Hades

Either way, living in the underworld turns out not to be so bad, especially when you can wander around in your choice of clothes all day, throw money around on things you want, living in a gigantic palace decorated to your design and basically do whatever you like in return for loving an actually really sweet god

Y'know, even if it IS completely filled with spirits and zombies

But that's just minor details in exchange for literally anything in the world....right?

Also, Cerberus ADORES you

Even if you have dog allergies, since he isn't technically a real dog, his 'fur' doesn't affect you

Will follow you around everywhere, begging for pets with all 6 of those cute puppy eyes

Also loves playing fetch :3

Once Nico found out that his father kidnapped you, his reaction was something along the lines of silent, shocked staring

"Nico...I can expla-"

"What. The. Fu-"

He gets used to it pretty fast, he's used to his father's weird, obsessive antics by now

And besides, it just means he gets to spend more time with you <3

I have this irrelevant hc that he likes dragging you with him to his father's throne room and giving him a forceful makeover, just to embarrass him

Hades puts up with it, mostly because he's a softie

In terms of punishments and such, the only time he'd really get pissed is if you tried cheating on him

Like he is so whipped for you that he is willing to let anything slide...except for disloyalty

Even then, the most he'll do is isolate you

He really can't keep himself away from you either

Mostly, he'll just send his minions to guard you a lot more

Which is just more inconvenient and annoying than anything mentally damaging

Overall, he's one of the tamest yanderes in terms of Greek gods

He really doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to stay with him forever

He's just clingy :)

#percy jackson #percy pjo #percy series #pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #hades x reader #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods #yandere hades #yandere #greek mythology x reader

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 3 months

Text

It's Lights Out And Away We Go

Natasha isn't the only one obsessed with the motorcycle her wife got her. Turns out it's perfect for knocking Katya's ego down a notch as well.

- Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost Series) - Wordcount: 1.4k - No warnings :) Masterlist

A/N: thank you @milfs69420 for the idea! Hope this is what you had in mind :)

Most men had a motorcycle to escape their wives, let's be honest. A reason to hide in the garage and go out for long drives. A hobby "for themselves" that their wives hated.

Natasha was the opposite. While she loved riding her bike instead of the car when the weather was nice, she didn't often go touring just for fun. Not alone, at least. After an hour, she was bored and missed her partner.

But every now and then, it was a nice way to clear her head. The weather was beautiful today and Katya was at work, so she'd taken the opportunity to pull her shiny new motorcycle out of the garage, driving aimlessly until her fuel meter flickered red.

Pulling up at a gas station, Natasha turned her engine off and kicked out the stand. A group of bikers—black leather, long beards, broad-shouldered—watched her from a distance, half of them mounted on their bikes, half enjoying the shadows of the small gas station store. They were intimidating to most, the reputation of biker gangs not helping their image, but Natasha wasn't bothered, twisting the fuel tank cap by her seat off.

Her helmet gave her a sense of anonymity on the streets that she didn't often get to experience otherwise. While her long red braid peeked out from underneath, she wasn't immediately seen as Natasha the Avenger. Right now, she was just a woman, dressed in black, on a very, very nice motorcycle.

"Nice bike!"

She looked up from the fuel nozzle in her hand, her visor popped open just enough to see, but not enough to get recognized. One of the bikers had called out to her, an appreciative smile on his bearded face. It wasn't the first time people gave her bike hearteyes, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Thanks!"

As expected, he came over to her, leaving his helmet on his motorcycle. Men could never resist something pretty. "How fast does she go?" He asked. His plaid shirt was tight around his thick arms, his leather vest worn in as he held onto it. He looked nice enough.

"Do they ever go fast enough?" Natasha joked, hearing Katya's warning voice in her head that yes, the bike could definitely go too fast.

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. "No, they don't." Now that he stood closer, he gave her bike another thorough once-over, nodding appreciatively. "You take good care of her, she's like new."

"She is still pretty new," Natasha answered. Talking to strangers wasn't usually her favorite, but he had genuine interest in something she was proud of and enthusiastic about, so she was happy to chat. "It was a gift."

"A gift?" The man whistled through his teeth. "You must have done something right."

Natasha grinned. "You'll have to ask my wife."

It's a good thing her mouth was covered by her helmet, because her smile showed exactly how she felt about that wife of hers. To be safe, she averted her shimmering eyes too, watching the numbers on the pump climb as the gas poured into her tank.

"Your wife?" The man exclaimed with a disbelieving laugh, his beer belly shaking. Clearly he wasn't used to wives being supportive of this hobby. "You're a lucky woman. I wish my wife was into this."

"She's not. Not really. But she knows that I am." Natasha pulled the fuel nozzle out of the tank, careful not to scratch the paint. He must be hearing the fondness in her voice as she spoke of Katya. "Cars are her thing."

"Then she did her research, because this is a beauty. Don't often see rare ones like these." Once more, his eyes glided over the bike, trying to take in every detail.

"Yeah, sometimes in life you get lucky, I guess," Natasha joked.

"Some more than others." He laughed, offering her his gloved hand. "I'm Rufus by the way."

"Natasha." She smiled, firmly shaking his hand. It almost engulfed hers. This was such a normal, human interaction. A stranger who talked to her just because they both loved the same things. It was so refreshing and unusual.

"If you'd ever want to join us, it'd be great to have you. It's just us men today, but we have women riding with us too." Rufus followed her gaze to his buddies who were too busy joking with each other. "Promise they aren't half as bad as they look."

Natasha didn't expect to feel excited at his offer. This man had no clue who she was, but he hoped she'd stick around for her personality and shared interests alone. She couldn't wait to tell Katya this. "Thank you."

Rufus nodded once. "I'll let you get on your way." His heavy boots took a step back to make space when she kicked up the bike stand. "Thank you for blessing us with this today."

"You're welcome," Natasha mused proudly, turning the key over in the ignition. With a roar, the engine came to life, and she heard Rufus's delighted groan over the rumbling. For good measure, she revved the engine a few times, grinning widely as she shut her visor and shot away from the gas station.

As Natasha lazily weaved in and out of traffic, she couldn't stop smiling. Her interaction with Rufus was such a stupid thing to be excited about. Someone complimented her motorcycle, how exceptional! But it was way more than that.

Rufus made her feel wanted and welcome. He invited her to join them. Someone wanted to be her friend for the simple fact that they had the same hobby, not because she was useful or famous. And she was as giddy about that as a kid getting an invite for a classmate's birthday party.

He'd also unintentionally reminded her of just how privileged she was. An expensive motorcycle between her thighs, the money she and Kat had to get themselves these nice things, but most of all a supportive wife who bought her the bike. It wasn't a given to have a partner like that.

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered happily thinking about her happy, good little life.

Fifteen minutes from home, something colorful caught Natasha's eye in the distance. It was hard to tell because of the reflecting sunlight on all the car roofs, but as she came closer, she could start to make out the distinctive orange color between the rest of traffic.

Slowly, she came closer, squinting her eyes trying to make out the number plate, but it should have been pretty obvious that it was who she thought it was. Who in New York had the exact same car, in that color, and managed to drive it that shitty?

With a smirk, she sat up and called Katya, hearing the call connect through the earbuds in her ears.

"Hi! I'm almost home."

"I know." Natasha smirked, now only four cars behind.

There was a short pause as Katya processed that answer. "Are you stalking me?" She accused her with a chuckle. Right then, Natasha merged behind her car, weaving slowly to pull Katya's attention to her rearview mirror. She knew it worked when a gasp came through the phone. "Oh, hey!"

"Hello," Natasha mused, speeding up until she drove next to Katya's window, giving her a small wave. "Fancy seeing you here."

Katya stared at her for longer than was safe. "It has to be illegal for you to drive around on that thing. You're a distraction to all the other drivers."

"Is that why you drive like a drunk grandma?" Natasha saw her scowl through the window.

"Take that back."

Natasha's sly smile widened. "I'll take it back if you press your foot on the gas pedal."

"I can beat you home if I wanted to."

"Bet."

"Bet." Katya adjusted her seat, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "We start at the next sign post."

Natasha pressed her chest closer to her motorcycle, wrapping her fingers securely around the handles. "Enjoy the view off my ass, because that's what you're going to be looking at the whole way home."

"Prepare to have it beaten."

It was a losing game for Katya. Natasha was the better driver and she had a more agile vehicle that crept into places the car couldn't. By the time she pulled up on the driveway at home, Natasha had already parked her bike inside and pretended to wait impatiently on the porch.

Katya woke up the next day to find a sticker on her car.

"Warning: Slow moving vehicle."

#katandnat #natasha romanoff #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff fluff

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

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Mikey is the type to have a crush and won’t do shit about it, but then you get a boyfriend and he’ll beat the fuck out of him and go "i dIdn’t dO shIt" like 'bitch, you still got the blood on yo hands'

But like think about the sex afterward like 😩 i don’t like you or anything, i just fuck you like you’re the only one i need. I swear i don’t like you… i just hold you abit too long after we’re done. Of course it was a mistake, it won’t happen again… until you got a new bitch, in that case, he better know how to catch these hands.

Please I'd be such a whore for him such a cocksucker such an open-

Word count : near to 1000

But YES, I can totally see him denying it 'til his last breath.

Kanto manji were his darkest days, Manjiro had lost it all, family, friends, you were the only one who he let stay.

Well, not really let, but you were too stubborn to leave no matter how blood stained were his deeds. You promised, to yourself, to Shin, and to him to always stay, and you would.

And everyone he allowed to stay around him, mainly the Kanto members could see the invisible red strings tying you together, it seems you two were the only oblivious ones.

No he couldn't afford love, he could not afford happiness.

Those nights were full of lures, no matter how beautiful you looked in his bed, face lit by the moonlight seeping through the window. Yet another slip, another lingering touch of yours in his face got you wrapped in the bedsheets he only yearned to when you were around.

But the morning comes and the other side of the bed would be cold, and you'd leave with grace once again, no word, no question marks.

The ghost of his touches still stinging over your flesh, and you wearing them proudly as your battle scars. Because if he was the king in the darkness, you were his soldier.

Yet someday you'll figure out you deserved better, you'll understand you lost yourself trying to find him, and remove the dagger of him from your heart, start the healing process.

But he never thought that day would come that fast...

Watching from not that far, watching the fire in you burning again after the frozen kingdom he put you through, watching another man lighting you up.

He should be happy for you, he should acknowledge he's no good for you... Instead he felt like losing the last string tying him to life, the path to that dimly lit candle only burning when your hands are on him.

-" What the hell you doin' here ?" You frowned seeing the Haitani brothers coming toward you and your date in the park , Ran couldn't quite tell anything. He liked you a lot, he also knew it was wrong, that you deserved better, but it was his boss' order after all.

-" C'mon, just come with us, don't make it harder than it already is. " That was Rindou, gently grabbing your arm to make you stand up, you glanced up at your date of the night, he stood up, probably ready to stop the Haitani brothers but his face fell as soon as another shadow appeared in the park, some steps away from your bench.

-" Manjiro... ?"

You tried freeing yourself from the boys holding you, no use, their grip was firmer now. Standing in front of you two, Mikey could practically hear the million questions your eyes were sending him, behind the deafening cries of his demons, therefore his eyes never left your new boy toy.

His eyes only crossed yours for a second, stealing your breath before they met Ran's purple one's again. A nod, just a nod from him and they were already dragging you away.

Yes, he was the king of madness. But he would rather not stain your innocence. Because villains are not born, they're made of insecurities, of hopes that someday someone would love their monstrous side, and you seemed to do.

No question marks, again. When he would come back later to his bedroom where the boys have locked you, under his command, sure, hands all bloody, you knew better than to ask, wasn't even the first time.

-" It can't go on this way "

-" I know" he'd whisper, forehead against yours, bloody knuckles caressing your soft cheeks.

-" You should let me go " you'd utter between two feverish kisses.

-" I wish I fucking could. "

Then he'd be laying you down on his bed, feather-like touches, hesitant fingers, blood stained fingers.

-" That's it, cum for me" another kiss on your throbbing clit would bring you closer to your high.

And the dark night in his eyes was a starry one when he looked at your body under him, sinking deeper in you and throwing his head back.

Funny how, it was in the tightest corner of you that he finally felt accepted, enough.

-" Feel me here ?" Calloused hand reached to place yours over the bulge in your lower belly, you nodded, lightheaded with pleasure. " Only I can love you this deep "

-" Say it. Say this pretty pussy's mine. "

Soft kisses on your left breast.

-" Say there's only me in this fucking heart "

No, he would not say the suffocating words in his throat.

But he would hold you close the night. Do what people do when they can't sleep, stargazing, but at your sleeping face.

Murderous arms around you careful not to crush you as if you were made of glass.

His hands a weapon, and you were nothing but skin, and someone else could probably make you happier.

But then you open your sleepy eyes to look at him, and you're again, part of his flesh he could not rip away.

-" Sleep. " His dark glance commands. "Worry not. Ain't got nowhere better to go"

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