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arijackz · 2 months

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PICK A CARD: What are your most alluring qualities?

🂺 "Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~ Edgar Allen Poe~

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is meant to help uplift your spirit and highlight qualities about you that transcend space and time and manage to energetically get picked up by lil ol' me. Who then tries to put that inexplicable beauty into words. :)

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

☀︎ Pile One ☀︎ (nine of cups, magician rev., moon rev.,hanged man, page of cups, queen of cups)

⇾ Pink. Yellow. Fuzzy. This feels so warm, there's heat around my waist. Maybe you’re a dancer? Do you like to wear very big pullovers or extra garments around your waist? Corsets? I’m getting a strong emphasis with an attraction toward your waistline. Also, a very airy feeling in my ribs. ⇾ You’re fucking hilarious. Your ability to uplift any room’s vibe is extremely attractive. Strong water energy, Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, 4th, 8th, 12th house. But not as emotionally heavy. Not the thunderstorm but the sunny, dewy morning after. Literal sunshine. You may have a signature scent. Coconut, vanilla, brown sugar. Before shuffling your cards, my nose was congested but while I was channeling, I had these moments where air would pass through the room, clear my sinuses, and the tingling feeling in my ribs came back. ⇾ You’re a high. A nice clean, mellow high. The brief moments in time when your body completely relaxes and you start flowing with the wind. People are addicted to how you make them feel. Your energy feels like the first hit of that oui. wink wink. People get a hit of your energy and it feels like an escape. This is my intuitive and sensitive dreamy pile. There is a lot of emotional depth here, you’re enigmatic. Being in your presence transports people to a simpler time in their lives. A period where the sun shined brighter, the air was cleaner, and all the color in the world felt more vivid. People can sense the storm raging in the back of your head but can visually see your perseverance and ability to not let darkness rot you, keeping this light and airy energy. It’s almost superhuman, you almost seem not real. You’re impossibly infectious. ⇾ You have a lot of natural inner abundance, you attract a lot in life even if you don’t realize it. I’m getting moksha house energy, a strong wheelhouse of influential power. The duality of your sweet, caring but reserved introspective nature is sexy as fuck, to be honest. It is hypnotizing and ignites people. I also see you have attractive skin, whether it’s clear, glowy, or cute moles, I'm not sure. But something about your skin people just can’t help but want to trace and admire. Jupiter/Pisces energy. Sugary sweet and in your own world, I feel like I have a toothache. Rare kind and light energy. Your attractiveness and romantic influence on people is one of your natural talents pile 1. I can see that with the Jupiterian energy I'm getting. You got 3 major arcana cards back to back. You’re a light in the dark and people are moths to a flame.

"You're pretty like a memory"

☀︎ Pile Two ☀︎ (ace of swords, the tower, knight of swords, 6 of swords rev, the magician, 3 of wands)

⇾ Well for starters, you’re SEXXXYYYY. Not just physically, but your wit, intelligence…people’s attraction to you gives me the image of Joan of Arc’s admirers. People perceive you as gorgeous, brave, and intimidatingly capable. ⇾ I’m getting Uranian energy, Yes, something about you is very mercurial, but this is next level. In modern astrology, Uranus is a higher octave of Mercury and symbolizes putting these higher-level ideas into action. Your ability to think of a goal and go after it is attractive. Or have a belief and fiercely defend it. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you have an innate ability to monetize or profit off of your ideas and skills. Especially with all this sword energy, the 3 of wands, AND the magician. Mane, you make shit HAPPEN. You make shit shake. A lot of people say they’re going to do things they have no intention of starting or say things they don’t actually believe. You are a rare exception to that. You put your money where your mouth is, and the amount of willpower and intelligence you possess is intimidating yet so very very attractive. ⇾ There’s gotta be some major concentration in your natal chart, a stellium, a reoccurring modality, sign, not sure but your energy is uniquely focused and intense. You may sometimes battle with excess mental energy. Anxiety, overthinking, etc. You’re a harbinger of change. Wherever you go, major changes follow and there is something very important about your energy. Your footprint in this world is larger than the average person’s. Your sense of self and your loyalty to your authenticity and values is highly admirable. *whispers* maybe even enviable, watch out for negative intentions and trust your discernment. ⇾ Whether you’re a man or woman watching this, you intimidate a lot of men. You’re the creme of the crop so to speak. You are the human embodiment of a warrior. Strategic, brave, and your fire cannot be dimmed. You have this eternal energy to you. Your name will be sung long after you leave this Earth. There will be tales and songs about you. There is an emphasis on making a change and legacy here, 10th house/ Capricorn Energy. Solar and Jupiterian energy is possible too, there's a lot of king semblance here. I feel like your frame is very attractive. Defined muscles especially around your neck and shoulders. Fox attractiveness. Sharp features, or some special emphasis with your lips, jaw, and teeth. There is a lot of sexual attraction in this pile. I was shuffling and getting flashes of old Wattpad enemies to lovers and dark academia rivalry fanfiction 😭😭. I’m getting a headrush. Maybe you feel like a headrush to people at times. You might look good in darker, cool-tone colors or have dark hair. ⇾ You make people aware of their shortcomings and that triggers them. You trigger strong emotions in people. People see you as superior to many, you’re either singled out in a crowd positively or negatively. People either love or hate you but it is undeniable that you are sexy and very fucking capable. You also have the ace of wands at the bottom of the deck…like I said…sexy and capable.

"Don't look at me with those eyes"

☀︎ Pile Three ☀︎ (The tower, queen of swords, three of pentacles, queen of wands, 9 of wands)

⇾ This is my dark feminine pile. 🎶Sheee’sssss a maaaann eeeaaatttttttuuuhhhhhhhh🎶, Ironically, the black cat got chosen for this pile. The tower paired with the two queen cards screams shadowy feminine to me, but balanced. The three of pentacles create a bridge between your intense fire and air energy. You balance your shadowy, detached and your fiery, passionate nature and it creates this intoxicating dichotomy that people can not get enough of. ⇾ You also are reserved and guarded, people can tell it is hard to gain your trust and gain access to your inner world so people subconsciously try hard to earn your favor. When I was laying out your cards my eyes got heavy and I felt like I needed to go to bed. You have a very sultry sluggishness to you. Think about Corpse Bride, how her eyes were always low, she moved slowly, and her voice was low. You have a dark veil over your character that is very alluring. There may be an 8th house or Mars emphasis in your natal chart. Make sure to check your planetary midpoints. ⇾ I am getting a Gabriette Betchel vibe. There's a darkness around the eyes of the man standing in the nine of wands. There is a draw to the shape of your eyes, especially if they droop a little or you have sunken eyes. Maybe you like dark makeup if you’re into makeup. This pile definitely had a crush on Morticia Adams growing up. You ARE Morticia Adams. Pretty Rave Girl is playing in my head, I don’t associate your energy with the rave aesthetic but I get the sense that people fantasize about you. You’re naturally mysterious and detached and most people only have an idea of you rather than a one-on-one connection. You may face a lot of projections, there’s fog around people’s perception of you. Plutonian-type power, insanely magnetic, with Neputinian-type glamour, veiled and shapeshifting. There may be some WLW baddies in this collective. ⇾ I feel like a very small number of people truly know you, you are reserved and selective with your energy and let me tell you, that is the most attractive practice a human being can implement. You are a once-in-a-lifetime personality that people dream about embodying. YOU ARE AN AESTHETIC. Well not exactly, I’m not limiting you down to your appearance. But you are the ideal embodiment of the dark feminine, man-eater aesthetic. The other three piles felt like concepts that I tried to piece together to paint a picture, your pile feels like a tried and true timeless dark sexiness that we've seen in cinema and music videos throughout the years. There is range here though, I’m feeling anywhere between Morticia Adams to Effy from Skins. The allure of Hollywood’s bombshells mixed with the angst and self-guardedness of America’s outcasted teen icons. I’m seeing an emerald snake, if you’re into sidereal astrology you may have ashlesha placements. I could write an entire essay about the fucking bullshit you've endured and THRIVED FROM but this is already getting a lil lengthy lol. Just know that you are living testament to the saying “I get knocked down ten times but get up eleven.” Stay sexy pookie.

"You got your HP Lovecraft... your Edgar Allan Poe"

☀︎ Pile Four ☀︎ (high priestess, two of swords, 4 of pentacles, the empress, knight of pentacles, 10 of cups)

⇾ UHHHH THE DRAAMMAAA. Bae, the high priestess FLEW out. You’re angelic. No mf backtalk. I don’t know about the stereotypical angel, but something about your presence is otherworldly. So intense but hard to conceptualize, can’t classify your energy as anything less than angelic. People see you as something holy and righteous. A theme of fairness and divinity is strong here. I’m seeing the virgin (Virgo, purity) and a gavel (libra, balance and fairness.) Your energy is always in a state of balance and harmony. Temperance did not come out, but I’d bet my top dollar that it would have if I kept pulling. ⇾ I’m hearing a steady water stream and the flaps of bird wings. People come to you for peace and tranquility. Your aura is serene and healing. Being near you is like transporting to a haven with clean water, a sustainable garden, fresh air, and BUNNIES. An image of a ton of white bunnies just came to me. This is not an 18+ reading, so I won’t go into detail but bunnies represent fertility and high sexual energy. You have an abundance of creativity. The best representation of people’s attraction to you I can put into words is like seeing raw energy. There’s this movie that came out in 2017 called Annihilation and there’s a scene where the main character comes into contact with pure energy and is so entranced by it that she just stares at it head empty, blankly in complete awe. THAT is how people see you. Like c’mon high priestess, the empress, 10 of cups, don’t ever fucking question yourself. You have an undeniably divine aura. ⇾ You’re a big deal, you're energy is very enlightening and calm but there is a heavy weight to it. Everything you do in life makes an impression and holds weight. Your thoughts matter, your conversation changes lives, and your very presence makes an imprint on people’s souls. Virgo 6th house, libra 7th house, Scorpio 8th house, Pisces 12th house. ⇾ You also have a very stable, Earthy nature to you with the 4 of pentacles and the Empress. To me, this is pure wealth. You will see a lot of luxury in your lifetime. You are a giver, you have a lot to offer the world. You are the epitome of “fill my own cup and let it overflow to those around me.” You share your abundance and prosperity follows you. You have the divine understanding that life is all about balance and what you give, you receive tenfold. ⇾ People think you look really good in white. Blonde hair could be a good look on you. Any aesthetic that involves purity or innocence really suits you. Personally, I’d say you look fucking killer in red hair. ⇾ With the ten of cups, I’m getting major wish-fulfillment vibes. When suitors see you they hear an angelic chime in their ear (I hear it right now) and music starts playing. DREAM GIRL. By the strictest definition too, you’re very dreamy and your allure is cloudy, people are afraid if they touch you, you’ll float away. You could have prominent Neptune placements. Do you like to sing? Harmoney and melodic sounds keep popping up. I'm thinking of Euterpe, the muse of music. ⇾ Your abundance leaks into your appearance (look for aspects to your ascendant, especially Neptune, Jupiter, and the Sun), you look very youthful and hydrated. It’s going to sound creepy but from a biological, primal-lizard brain perspective, you look fruitful and like you'd bear many blessings and children. Your skin is well hydrated and plump, your hair is strong and luscious, and you look overall very healthy.

"Be Not Afraid."

ahhh that was so much fun! to those who resonated with a pile, thank you for giving me the pleasure of experiencing your energy and reading for you. if you liked it let me know :)

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #pac #pac tarot #affirmations #self concept

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deadghosy · 2 months

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Okay, I saw the part in the noob!reader post about Kirby. I love Kirby and would love a Kirby!reader in hazbin hotel. Like how he is cute but can consume worlds and everyone is just like *pikachu shocked face*, same with him being able to pull out random weapons from his abilities. I can imagine he got there from a new weird portal and meta knight is like “where is he NOW?”.

Kirby is a being of chaos and I love him ❤️

I ALSO LOVE KIRBBY I WAS A BIG KIRBY KIN💗💗 🦆

HAZBIN HOTEL X KIRBY! READER

prompt: you lost the sight of your best friend only to be somewhere completely different.

Meta knight was walking ahead of you as you picked up flowers with your cute smile. “Poyo!” You said smiling ready to show meta knight your flowers you picked up into a bouquet.

When all of a sudden, you were getting pulled into a red portal as you screamed out to meta knight who seemed to be in his own world.

“POYO! POYO!” You then get sucked in as meta knight turns to see nothing. “Reader/Kirby?…..where is he NOW!” Meta knight exclaims, his accent thickening in worry as he runs around the area calling out your name.

Meta was basically that Brandon rogers meme when he lost his “child” 😭

You swirl in the portal to get thrown out and roll into the feet of a person. “Oh my! Are you okay sweetie?” The sweet voice says as she picks you up. Charlie looked worry seeing you dizzy. “Poyoo..” you said with a dazed out look from your trip of the portal.

Charlie took you in her hotel, getting you water and suited to rest as vaggie checks up. After 24 hours, they kept you as you became part of the hotel staff.

I headcannon you once accidentally swallowed Angel because you saw him as a regular spider. You literally transformed into his color palette before Charlie made you cough him up.

Angel was so traumatized 😭

I imagine you literally almost ending hell’s population by yourself cause you were hungry..you dead ass ran through the streets eating random shit. Thank goodness Lucifer picked you up and ran.

You once walked into Lucifer brain storming and he saw you…he immediately had a new idea for his duck creation. He made you stay in his room until Charlie said it was your bed time.

Vaggie always keep tabs on you so you don’t cause trouble around the pride ring and the hotel.

IMAGINE HOW YOU LITERALLY ATE A BUILDING…A FUCKING BUILDING AND HUSK WHO TOOK YOU FOR A ERRAND STROLL WAS LIKE

The egg boiz

Nahh cause you definitely had swallowed up the egg boiz to have a egg shell around you to hide in the egg shell like an ability.

Sir Pentious is always scared of the fact of you just eating him. But you don’t cause you literally get fed chips by the bar. So Pentious calms down and lets you have some time with him

Lucifer would probably make you inhale one of his rubber ducks so you can have a duck beak and wings just so he can chase you around with heart eyes excited that his hyperfixation became real

You have a duck hat and a duck pj set. ALSO WITH AN APPLE THEME SET WHICH IS FAMOUS IN MORNINGSTAR FAMILY ❤️❤️

I can see you always following Alastor like the egg boiz did in “scrambled eggs” 😭 except you just waddle beside him cutely

“Poyoooo… poyoooo..” you said softly as you tug on Alastor’s pant leg. Alastor looks down slightly entertained by your language and gesture for him to look at you.

“Well aren’t you an eager little thing…” alastor says picking you up and taking you to show Rosie his new found friend.

Husk once

STOP IT CAUSE WHAT IF YOU INHALED A KNIFE AND EQUIPPED IT ONLY YOU BE THAT FUCKIN MEME WITH KIRBY HOLDING A KNIFE😭😭

YOU WOULD STAB SOMEONE’S TOES AND KNEES YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE!!‼️

You definitely stood outside of the Vee’s tower holding the knife with a smile as Valentino looks so scared closing his curtains.

#justiceforangeldust

Angel dust loves you to the point he might adopt you as a sibling since you are pink like him.

Charlie and vaggie are the parents who maintain what you eat and sleep. Dead as you were gonna eat a butterfly when vaggie picked you up like “NOPE! NOT TODAY!” And took you inside for the rest of the time-

See I can personally just imagine that Kirby gif where Kirby eats the whole ass meal on the table. So imagine the crew’s face seeing you do that shit 😭

I can see you getting on fat nuggets and just start to ride fat nuggets like a cowboy 😭💗

Angel definitely recorded it as you just smile while fat nuggets runs around the hotel freely.

I headcannon you bought a bunch a flowers for the crew and the was so adorable how you just picked each flower matching the cast’s colors

Imagine you just watching a hell cartoon and Vox is like “kill them! Kill your entire family” as you jolted shocked and cry at the scary tv man

Niffty once fed you dust particles thinking it wouldn’t affect you…it did cause you coughed and got sick. Niffty cried, not thinking it would harm you as she sniffles giving you soup in your room.

Niffty was banned from making lunch for you😭

Alastor be trying to troll you into eating cannibal meat, like dead ass he would make you a sandwich with “turkey” meat. But you could already smell THE MUSSTTT 🤮

So he failed with that mission. But at least you like his radio station and his jazz music.

Charlie brought you to her meeting with the first man so she can feel comfortable as you are kinda like her service animal.

Adam actually would like you cause you love to eat endlessly and you are pick up size. This mf will literally pick you up with one hand and dribble you like a basketball or treat you like a damn football💀

“Hey lute! Go long!” “Yes sir!” Lute replies back as she moves back far. Adam launches you making you scream as lute flies up and catches you.

“GOALLLL! FUCK YEAH!” Lute says accidentally throwing you off of the cloud floor they were on. “LUTE WTF?!” Adam yells looking at you fall before a portal had eaten you up. “Well damnit…I was gonna miss that lil pink shit.” Adam says before walking away with lute close behind him

Meta knight is back at home was tweaking out as he literally sobs eating with a picture of you on the table. He misses you deeply as he stares at the photo before looking down. “My friennnd…” he says with a sniffle as he covers his face.

Good ending was that you plopped down on the table from the portal as meta immediately hugs you as you smiled happily, showing him the flowers. You guys ate dinner happily!

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chryblossomjjk · 2 years

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practice | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut

⇢ WC: 8.1k

⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink

⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday.

The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.

One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked.

Anything and everyone, except you.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.

You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…

Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell.

You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face.

You’re cute, right?

Atleast you tried to look cute.

Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself.

You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.

You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.

You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.

You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay.

You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.

You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you.

The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-

Knock. Knock.

The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake.

Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment.

You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.

Jeon Jungkook.

His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily.

Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?”

“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”

“Are you drunk or something?”

“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well.

You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire.

“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?”

You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?”

“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”

Bambi.

That stupid nickname.

You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default.

"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak.

Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you.

"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"

You answered him curtly with a scowl.

"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you.

“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”

“That’s disgusting,” you scoff.

“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”

You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.

If only you could mute your evil brain.

“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room.

He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it.

“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.

You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though.

“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags.

“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.

“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes.

You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.

He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch.

Wow.

Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made?

“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.

“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”

“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”

“Well aware.”

“Jihyo?”

“Yep.”

“Nayeon?”

“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”

You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.

But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…

Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night.

You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.

The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful.

He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook.

He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”

“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.

“It helps me stay still. Please?”

“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy.

He purrs and closes his eyes.

He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.

That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.

‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’

‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’

‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’

“Jungkook, shut up!”

“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”

“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”

“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather.

You give him an exasperated look.

“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”

“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.

“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.

“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.”

“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”

“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns.

“About?”

“Anything.”

“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black. What’s your favorite position?”

“Jungkook!”

“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”

You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over.

“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?”

A pause.

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”

He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his.

He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny, Jeon?”

“Ah, I see now.”

“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness.

“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.

“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”

Crickets.

Your lack of response tells him the answer.

When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?”

He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“I always make the girl cum.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”

His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”

“Jungkook…”

And then he's kissing you.

It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.

All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.

He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.

“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”

You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod.

“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.

Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

He’s been wanting this, too?

“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.

You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking.

“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”

“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”

“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture.

Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes.

Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.

“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”

“Never…”

“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.”

That had you absolutely drenched.

You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit.

He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.

“Jungkook, please…”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.”

He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.

This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned.

It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.

There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.

He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.

“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”

You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt.

You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.

He doesn’t like that.

He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak.

His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”

It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of.

You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest.

You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.

Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”

You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.

His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”

“Like what?”

“Have you ever squirted before?”

You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”

“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.

“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one.

He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm.

You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.

“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”

“Why?”

“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.

Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you.

You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.

“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.

“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”

It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down.

“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.

“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”

“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy.

“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.

Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.

There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.

He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.

“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”

You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.”

Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.

“Please, Jungkook, more…”

“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special.

“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”

You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?

Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip.

You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.

“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.

His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.

“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”

You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.

You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.

There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.

And then nothing.

Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches.

Complete solace.

Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.

There’s a metallic taste on your tongue.

You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.

“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?”

“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”

“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”

“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”

“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.

“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”

He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.

His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.

You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours.

“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”

“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket.

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”

“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary.

It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.

That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.

You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.

“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.

“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely.

He didn’t have underwear on either.

You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.

You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”

He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.

He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.

He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort.

“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.

“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.

He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”

You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.

“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”

With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”

Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.

Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin.

You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.

“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”

Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.

You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive.

‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant.

“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.

A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.

“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.

His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.

He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.

“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.

You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.

“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”

He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.

You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you.

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”

He could’ve busted right then and there.

“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.

You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.

Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.

“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.

“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.

He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care.

Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.

His orgasm is stunning.

“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation.

“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp.

“Thank you,” you speak shyly.

“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”

You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before.

“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”

He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”

Special.

You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”

“Practice round?”

He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.

He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”

Friends.

It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.

All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.

You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.

Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.

He looks so beautiful and peaceful.

You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.

The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.

“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies.

He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.

Fuck.

What have you gotten yourself into?

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aceofpatience · 9 months

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🤍Love Messages from your soulmate🤍<- Pick-a-Pile reading

Hello, my little oysters!🐚

If you wish to know what your soulmate would like to say to you, you are in the right place 🍪. I will be channeling their energy, looking into their love language and seeing what they love the most about you, as well as any extra messages that might come through. If anything resonates, please leave me a comment below. It will bring me much more joy than any chocolate bar can (so you know it's serious). Hope you enjoy! Shall we SEA?🍫

Pile 1. -> The Tower

Your soulmate energy: Duality, twins. Your person chooses the hard way. They are the savior, rather in the shadows. Even though you are destined for each other, they still want to be the best option for you. If they have the inclination that you could be more secure by yourself, they would step back and love you from afar. They have strong energy, kinda stubborn - when they set their mind on something they see it to completion. And that’s how they feel about you. No doubt in their mind that they want you. For you they are the noble knight, but for your enemies? Not so much.

Their love language: Communication. A lot compliments. They just expres their feeling for you openly. You can see on their face how much they adore you. Quality time - always ready to choose you over other things. Providing space for you. Neck kisses. Playing your body like an instrument (love to hear you moans, being vocal). Playing with your hair.

What they adore about you: Your quirks. They really appreciates how you two perfectly completes each other in terms of who is the more dominant or submissive partner (quite effortlessly) - it can shift from time to time. They love that they can see themselves starting a family with you. Also your hair, figure, curves (whenever you have them or not).

The messages: They want to say A LOT to you. Very prominent throat chakra. They really want to protect you, take care of you and your needs, again knight vibes. Classical provider. „Even if right now I cannot take care of you, I will, when it’s time and nurture you. You, my love, deserve the best and I have to make sure I can give you exactly that, nothing less.” It’s all or nothing for them. Even if they are away from you, it’s in order to create a safe environment for you. „For now, I’m in the shadows, waiting for you to call for me.” They are so devoted to you, they want to eliminate any danger in your life. „I just need you to choose me, my dear.” -> It’s almost like you have someone else in your mind right now. It’s your call who you will choose.

Pile 2. -> The Death

Your soulmate energy: Intense, captivating gaze. They are alone right now. I see them sitting by themselves by the water, calmly smirking (??? Idk, dude). But the big change is incoming - the water turns it’s color. Longing in their heart. I think when you finally come together (lol), you will quickly commit. And it’s gonna heal them, with you they will be given a whole package (the family for example).

Their love language: Snake. Teasing. They love pulling you close to the edge (both sexually and not) and than withdrawing, keeping you on your toes. Might be into begging (big on oral sex). They observe you VERY closely but you might not even notice to what extend. It’s like out of the blue they bring you some gift you always wanted, but never told them about. And you like „How did you know???” And they just *smirk*. And they are kinda controlling, but let me explain! They give you the space to make your own decisions, but it’s like they knew from the begging what you will chose. Cos they know you.

What they adore about you: Equally pulling forces. They love you both are able to keep up with the other’s pace. It’s not about what they adore ABOUT you, they simply love how you are inside (It wasn’t supposed to be that dirty lol) - I mean your SOUL. To them you are strong and stubborn and invincible in your ways of being. You have so many faces and they love them all. Im getting the feeling you both knew each other in the past lives (one tribe energy). And you legs - they find them hot for sure.

The messages: Sleeping beauty vibes. „I know you’re sleeping now, *insert nickname*, but I will get to you as soon as I can, I promise. And I will bring some nice gifts.” *Winking.* Very cheeky energy, very flirty. I feel they might be using some corny nicknames for you, first as a joke to poke you, but you will (secretly) learn to love them. „I’m on my way to you, you are my most important MISSION. Wait for me, trust this connection. Don’t stres about it, darling.” They love your face, to them you are unbelievably beautiful, kind of like a fairytale princess/prince.

Pile 3. -> The Magician

Your soulmate energy: Powerful. Determined. Sooo smug. „Rich boy” vibes. I feel like they grew up in a very wealthy environment, surrounded by people who sometimes were ready to fulfill their every need as a child without any questions. But even though everything is going great for them, they are seekers, constantly chasing after something. When they want something they go after it, they love to chase. They appear more put-together and serious to the outside world but you see their more chaotic and emotional, even mischievous side.

Their love language: Even in relationship they will still act as if they want to win you over, still putting in the effort. They are your biggest supporter, they see the sides of you you don’t like and put them into the light, turning them into art. In this relationship you will reach your full potential.

What they adore about you: Your intellect. And maybe your more rational side. It’s like you’re the only one that gives it to them straight. Your harsher words might turn them on. As a child they may have been coddled a lot and they love your honest approach, even if it can be rough. They like to bargain and negotiate with you, even about small things. Your fight might evolve into something more steamy… heh. I feel you might have a lot of inside jokes.

The messages: „You’re so special.” They love the feeling of being in love with you. Being alone with you brings them emotional fulfillment. „I see how you have become more indhpentd and I’m so proud with you. You’re my queen and I can’t wait to find this solitude and peace with you.” Even when you are fighting they feel at peace. And again - kinda SMUG. Maybe for some of you - this connection may have started as a hookup that led them to the need to win you over just for satisfaction of winning AND THEN they actually feel in love. There is no doubt in their mind that they want you, they will reach you and claim you. hEH.

Pile 4. -> The Moon

Your soulmate energy: Solitude. Mysterious. Rich spiritual world. They might get cold feet when they think about you (more literally than metaphorically lol). Your connection is guarded form above (Angel protectors squad). They are very patient and mature individuals. They are not very verbal about their emotions, but it’s not like they are neglecting them, they ale calmly staying by your side.

Their love language: No grand dramatic gestures of love, but you will find yourself in this warm and beautiful atmosphere created by them. They are great listeners, offering you support and showing their care through simple everyday actions. You will feel seen, never neglected or alone.

What they adore about you: A LOT. Words aren’t their strongest suit, but their love for you is true. They love your youthful, enthusiastic or a bit overconfident energy. Compared to them you seem as a big ball of sunshine. They love emotions and especially how you express them. The joyful part of you make them come out of their shell. They love your body, I think they are actually quite kinky lol. It’s like they seem reserved, maybe innocent, but then this demon comes out to play.

The messages: They want to take care of you, every day make sure you’re okay. If you will be apart they for sure will be texting you every second, checking up on you (gif and emojis). A little mermaid (without a voice!) „You are a completely new creature to me, but you’re my dream come true. I want to be a part of your world.” They leave their comfort zone for you, and even though it scares them, it’s SO worth it. Im getting that they have so many warm feelings about you, that it’s hard for them to put them into words.

#tarot #pick a card tarot #pick a card #love reading #tarot reading #tarot witch #pick a reading #love #pac reading #pac tarot #love messages #18+ content #18+ tarot #spotify #intuitive

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enveine · 4 months

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when doves cry - s. clegane: chapter one (pilot)

pairing: sandor clegane x f!eldest stark reader summary: your loyalty to your family is unwavering, a steadfast commitment that defines your character. however, navigating the turbulent waters of newfound, intense emotions for a man devoted to a family starkly opposed to your own will challenge the foundations of this loyalty. as you stand on the precipice of conflicting allegiances, the question looms: what sacrifices would you make in the name of love? rating: 18+ word count: 4.4k chapter warnings: smut, "we just met but I want to fuck you", kinda ooc sandor, language, story loosely follows the timeline of S1, semi-public sex- very risky, rough sex, reader probably cares more about what's happening then sandor does, hickeys in hidden places, unprotected piv sex, angst, "we just fucked and now we're practically going to be living together".

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The great hall of Winterfell buzzed with activity as the Stark family prepared for the arrival of King Robert Baratheon and his entourage. You were the eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark, so you knew all eyes were going to be on you; a young woman of noble birth, at an age desperate to be married well. You moved gracefully through the throngs of people, your eyes keenly observing the bustling preparations. You wore a simple but elegant gown, the Stark colors proudly displayed.

A little nervous, to be expected. Nothing a little ride couldn’t fix.

On the way back, you noticed that winter truly had begun its descent upon the land, the air frigid and the wind mighty. The crunch of snow beneath the hooves of your horse echoed through the trees as you headed back towards Winterfell. You were eager to greet the royal party.

As you approached the stable, you hear the unmistakable clatter of hooves against the cobblestone. The royal retinue had arrived. Intrigued, you watch closely to see the beautiful ocean of golden banners, curiosity piqued by the impending arrival of the king.

The gate swung open, revealing the group of visitors. Your gaze was drawn to a towering figure at the back of the party. A man of imposing stature, his face hidden beneath a twisted helm, and clad in dark, rugged armor. He radiated an air of danger that made the other courtiers instinctively give him a wide berth.

Still mounted, you took a step back, closer to your direwolf Nyx. You watched him with a curious gaze. As he sat there, a silent sentinel also mounted upon his horse, you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze met your own.

"Who's that?" you inquired, directing the question to a nearby stable boy.

The boy hesitated before answering, "That's the Hound, my Lady. Sandor Clegane, the King's dog."

You clicked your tongue, “King’s dog, huh?” a small laugh, “Interesting title.”

You watched as the man dismounted, your eyes narrowing with interest. He moved with a certain controlled grace, his movements deliberate and purposeful. An unexpected shiver ran down your spine as you observed the mysterious figure. There was something about him that defied the norms of courtly behavior, an untamed quality that set him apart. In a sea of polished knights and well-mannered courtiers, he was a dark anomaly.

You couldn't help but be intrigued by the mysterious figure. Your eyes lingered on him, studying the scars that marred his face. There was a hardness in his gaze that suggested a life of brutality, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the man beneath the armor.

Your eyes met for the briefest moment, a flicker of connection that sent a jolt through your spine. Quickly averting her gaze, you tried ignoring the heart pounding feeling in her chest. The Hound continued on, seemingly indifferent to the glances and whispers that followed him. After his eyes left yours, you couldn’t help but watch his every move again. That man, Sandor Clegane, he was beautiful.

And he was coming right towards you.

As you dismounted her horse, the Hound's attention shifted briefly to her. You felt a twinge of discomfort under his scrutinizing gaze, but being the strong-minded Stark you were, held your ground. Nyx, ever vigilant, growled softly at the Hound, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.

"You a Stark girl?" he grumbled, his voice rough and devoid of warmth.

You nodded, a defiant yet humorous spark in your eyes. "Well I stand before you wearing Stark colors. I’d hope so. (Y/N) Stark. And you are?"

"The Hound. Sandor Clegane," he replied with a hint of mockery. "King's dog, they call me."

You arched an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "A dog, you say?” In a bold move, your eyes slowly moved up and down, taking in a good look of his entire figure. “I don’t see a collar.”

His lips twitched, almost forming a reluctant smirk. It was a rare sight, a crack in his stoic facade.

“Well, dog, I hope you’re house-trained.”

Your exchange was brief, but in that moment, something shifted. A connection, unspoken and unacknowledged, lingered between the two of you. The Hound turned away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and an unsettling awareness that even though you’d just met that man—you wanted more of him.

Later that night, the great hall of Winterfell resounded with the clinking of goblets and the boisterous laughter of the guests. You found yourself drawn into the festivities, attempting to put aside the enigmatic encounter with Sandor Clegane. The feast in honor of King Robert Baratheon's visit was in full swing, and the Stark family showed they knew how to put together an extravagant feast.

As the night progressed, you caught glimpses of him across the crowded hall. His presence was ominous, and whispers of him still followed like shadows. Your curiosity mingled with a sense of unease, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that your brief exchange held a significance you couldn't fully comprehend.

You continued to mingle among the noble guests, trying to keep your eyes away from Sandor. But to no avail, you watched in-between pointless conversations as he stood at the outskirts of the celebration. His gaze fixed on the revelry with a mix of disdain and disinterest and you felt a peculiar pull, as if the currents of destiny were nudging you toward the enigmatic man.

An unexpected voice interrupted you in the middle of your thoughts. "(Y/N), you seem quite taken with the Hound," spoke your younger sister, Sansa Stark, her blue eyes glinting mischievously.

You raised an eyebrow and snorted out a laughter, attempting to conceal the obvious interest written in your eyes. "Taken? No, my dear Sansa. Merely curious. He is a formidable figure, after all." You put your arm between hers, nudging her body in the direction of the man who looked quite bored. “You know what mother always tells us. We are wolves, we must be the ones to pounce before the others.”

Sansa's gaze flitted between you and the man in question, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Well, just be careful. Rumors say he has a fearsome temper."

You chuckled at her, feigning nonchalance. "Rumors are just that—rumors. I'm sure there's more to him than meets the eye."

“Rumor has it that I think you’re full of rubbish.” She replied, a playful laugh falling from her lips.

“Oh Sansa, run off. Father needs you.” You nodded in the direction of your father, clearly enjoying his conversation with King Robert and his son, Joffrey.

Poor Sansa, you thought, that boy looks like nothing but trouble.

As the night wore on, you couldn't shake the feeling that their paths were destined to cross again. And fate intervened sooner than expected. The King's squire, Lancel Lannister, approached you with a cup of wine.

"From the Hound," he declared, offering you the goblet.

You hesitated, fingers brushing against the cold metal. You glanced in the direction of the Hound, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. Taking the wine, you nodded back with a small smile, and Lancel retreated into the shadows.

As you sipped the wine, the rich flavor lingered on her lips. As you found yourself drawn once more Sandor, you wondered what he’d taste like lingering on your lips. As your eyes met, a silent understanding passed between the two of you—a forming connection, born from the flames of need for passion.

Eventually, after a few more cups of wine, you found yourself standing at the edge of the hall, watching the dancers twirl to the music. A deep voice behind you interrupted your thoughts. "You fancy dancing, Lady (Y/N)?"

You turned to find Sandor standing there, his burned face impassive. "I can dance if the occasion calls for it," you replied, your eyes meeting his with something you couldn’t describe, but you could definitely feel it.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She’s a wolf with claws, then."

You were undeterred by his nature, offering a playful smile. "You sure seem to enjoy lurking in the shadows, Ser Clegane. Is that where you find your solace?"

He grunted, a low sound that could be mistaken for a chuckle. "Solace is overrated. I prefer the edge of the firelight."

You tilted your head, curls cascading over your shoulder. "A mysterious man, I see. Are you afraid the light will reveal too much?"

Sandor's lips twitched into a half-smile, a rare sight on his scarred face. "Some things are better left in the dark."

Leaning in, you whispered, "But not everything. Some things are meant to be uncovered." You caught the glint in his eye, a flicker of something lustful beneath the rough exterior.

The conversation continued, the banter growing more flirtatious with each exchange. You teased and prodded, finding amusement in the unexpected connection you felt with the man. He, in turn, responded with a gruff charm that surprised even himself.

Eventually, he left you with short instructions, “Broken tower.”

At last, you found yourself in the quiet solitude with the idea of getting to know Sandor better. In a way you’d known nobody before. The anticipation of his presence weighed on you, and a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach. The air was charged with a different kind of energy, one that held the promise of a connection that transcended the boundaries of right and wrong.

A soft knock on the door signaled his arrival, and when you opened it, there he stood, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over his scarred face, softening the harsh lines that had witnessed battles and hardships.

"I thought we might continue our conversation," he rumbled, his voice carrying a note of sincerity that caught you off guard, especially when he roughly grabbed your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. Your heart raced as you welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, trying your best to close the door.

The room pulsed with palpable tension, igniting like a fervent flame, as your hands yearned to make contact with him in every possible manner. The warmth emanating from your skin created a contrast against the cold, unyielding metal of his armor. Restless and eager, your hands became a silent testament to the unspoken urgency of your desire.

Sandor's gaze remained fixed on yours throughout, ablaze with a passion you had long yearned for—a fervor you couldn't fathom experiencing with the man standing before you.

Your teeth sank into his lower lip, coaxing a resonant, primal groan from him, prompting his reluctant withdrawal. "She's a wolf with claws and teeth," he chuckled, wiping away the trace amount of blood that had emerged from the newfound wound.

Rather than offering a response, your body found itself pressed against the wall, his calloused hand gently mitigating the impact on your head. "Couldn’t very well carry our conversation with your lips against mine," you remarked at last, tilting your head to the side as his lips met the tender skin of your neck.

He stopped for a moment- another faint chuckle coming before continuing, “aye, that was the point.”

Sandor persisted in tracing kisses along your neck, momentarily pausing only to leave subtle bites in places known only to him. In this moment, he recognized that he was on the brink of losing all restraint, evident in the autonomy of his hands, which seemed to explore every inch of your body with a desire you willingly indulged. Oh, how willingly you would allow him to continue.

“Sandor, please, I need-” you were cut off mid sentence by him grabbing your right leg and wrapping it around his waist. The cold metal hid his hardening cock—the feeling of it against your warm skin made you anticipate his every move. “If we’re g-gonna do this.. we need to hurry..”

“You need to keep quiet.”

His lips descended, caressing the delicate fabric of your dress. His fingers deftly maneuvered to release you from its confines with a sense of urgency; there was an animalistic quality to his actions—rough fingers, accompanied by soft growls, responding to the rhythmic dance of your body against his determined hold. A silent plea resonated, a tacit acknowledgment that you craved everything he was willing to bestow upon you.

A hushed stillness enveloped the space for the next few moments, broken only when he skillfully lowered your dress, unveiling your tits. Sandor's fingers delicately traced the contours of each nipple, his unwavering gaze captivated by their response. With each circular motion, they seemed to intensify in firmness, a testament to the heightened sensitivity your body exhibited in mere minutes of his touch. He reveled in the allure of your immediate responsiveness.

If anyone were to walk in they’d see such a pornographic sight: the beloved, eldest daughter of Ned Stark, nipples hard and swollen, dress hiked up to her waist while the Prince’s hound let her hump his armor. By this point, you'd wager that the burgeoning dampness in your silk panties had left its mark on the cool silver surface, a silent proclamation of your possession of the man. Yet, the mutual understanding between you both acknowledged that any unsuspecting onlooker venturing in would be treated to an undeniable spectacle.

If this were your first time, perhaps a hint of nervousness would have crept in, particularly as you sensed his hands gently sliding your panties down to your knees. Yet, even in such a moment, his adept handling imparted a profound sense of security. This man, bound by oath to safeguard his King, was now silently pledging to protect you with equal devotion.

But, fortunately, nothing could protect your body from what Sandor was about to do.

Seating himself on the ground after loosening his leather pants, he then drew you down to join him. As you settled onto his lap, he playfully grazed against your entrance with his cock, all the while continuing his descent of kisses along your neck. With a stern tone, he uttered, "My Lady, speak the word and I’ll stop."

Gazing into his eyes, you found them ablaze with desire, mirroring the fervor you sensed within yourself. His captivating eyes, the unsteady cadence of his breath, and the formidable frame enveloping you in its embrace—you desired nothing else in that moment.

“I don’t think such words exist.” You whispered.

At last, your lips met again with an intense passion, and as he slowly pushed his cock inside, his kiss carried a raw urgency that you eagerly reciprocated. Midway, a soft moan escaped as an indescribable sensation stirred in your stomach. Gazing down, your eyes caught a glimpse of your warmth enveloping him voraciously—a hunger akin to a famished wolf.

Sandor wasn’t even in completely.

His hips moved gradually against yours, a measured rhythm aiming to acquaint you with his full length. Pressed chest to chest, he sensed the rapid cadence of your intense heartbeat, but as his fingers traced small circles on your thighs, he felt it gradually subside. Sandor understood that in due course, he would sense the resurgence of your elevated heart rate, particularly when he ultimately filled you entirely. The connection was palpable, your pelvis intimately aligned with his.

He sustained a consistent rhythm, guiding your hips in a reciprocal dance of thrusts. The entire encounter was swift and purposeful, each thrust delivered with a sense of urgency, as if time were a constraint. In a sense, it was, considering the uncertainty of someone stumbling upon you at any moment.

Yet, beneath it all, an undercurrent of passion prevailed. The symphony of your gasps harmonized with his occasional groans, creating a melodic atmosphere. Your hand remained anchored on the back of Sandor's neck like a steadying handlebar, providing support as his thrusts intensified. It felt fitting that this was how Sandor Clegane fucked his women—clothed, he embodied roughness and intensity; how could one become tender and affectionate when undressed?

The familiar sensation of tightness formed in your stomach, and truth be told, there was a hint of disappointment in how swiftly the entire encounter unfolded. Yet, the lack of surprise lingered; he had proven to be the quickest in getting you into bed. The inexplicable allure he held over you remained a mystery, but in this moment, such thoughts were irrelevant—especially when you stood on the brink of blissful release.

Suddenly, a surge of sensation swept over you as his hand enveloped your throat. Sandor felt the subtle tightening of your walls around his cock, a telltale sign that you were teetering on the edge. He sought to bring you to that exquisite pleasure. Amidst the crescendo of your growing moans reverberating against the tower walls, his grip tightened, not to stifle your ecstasy but to cloak the sounds and shield the secrecy of your rendezvous.

As tears cascaded down your cheeks in response to the overwhelming pleasure, he spoke, "That's it, (Y/N), that's it…" It was as if he momentarily shed his usual demeanor, softening as he observed you in your vulnerable state. However, amidst the whirlwind that had your head spinning and everything fading to white, the only thing you could truly register was the profound impact of your orgasm.

Sandor wasn't far behind, withdrawing as you caught your breath, leaving your back adorned in ribbons of white cum. A soft whine escaped you as you felt it trickle down, accompanied by his heightened groans that surpassed those from when he was inside you. The aftermath left both of you in a hushed stillness, contemplating who would break the silence first. It was him, rising to his feet after moving your body off his lap and discreetly tucking his softening cock back into his trousers. He handed you a handkerchief, a gesture to cleanse the now drying traces from your back.

You wondered whether he would abandon you in the tower, retreat to his quarters, or perhaps rejoin the now dwindling party. To your surprise, he didn't. Instead, he extended his hand, helping you rise and assisting in the process of reclothing yourself. It was a considerate gesture, you acknowledged, yet it only added to the palpable tension that seemed to be mounting. You were certain Sandor could discern it in your expression—the subtle frown betraying your disappointment that the encounter had concluded. As you gazed at him, you searched for any sign of shared sentiment, any indication that he, too, would miss the intimacy you had just shared. Regrettably, you found nothing.

The air outside the tower was crisp, and the moon cast a silvery glow across the surroundings as Sandor led you down the winding path to your quarters. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the tension between you two lingering even in the cool night air.

The journey was silent, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft echo of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. Sandor's hand, firm yet strangely comforting, guided you through the dimly lit passages of the castle.

As you approached your quarters, a mix of conflicting emotions washed over you. There was a longing for something more, a desire to bridge the gap between the intimacy you'd just shared and the reality of the castle walls around you. The silence between you spoke volumes, a tacit acknowledgment of the uncharted territory you both found yourselves in.

Upon reaching your door, Sandor released your hand, and for a moment, it felt like a sudden loss. He stood there, his expression unreadable in the muted moonlight. You searched his eyes for any sign of what lay beneath the surface, but they remained enigmatic.

"Goodnight, Lady (Y/N)," Sandor gruffly uttered, breaking the silence. The words hung in the air, a simple farewell laden with unspoken complexities.

"Goodnight, Sandor Clegane," you replied, your voice soft and tinged with a hint of something unsaid. As you entered your quarters, the door closing behind you, the weight of the night settled in.

Alone in the hushed sanctuary of your quarters, the echoes of the night's encounter reverberated through the room. The emotions, like an unruly storm, swirled within you, and the dam holding them back began to crack.

As you stood there, the weight of what had transpired bore down on you. The tears, uninvited, welled up in your eyes and spilled over, tracing the contours of your cheeks. It wasn't just the physical intimacy that left you shaken; it was the tangled web of emotions that accompanied it.

Regret gnawed at you, and confusion settled in like a heavy fog. What had led you to this precipice, and where did you stand now? The vulnerability of the moment washed over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of conflicting emotions.

Fumbling with the fastenings of your dress, you sought solace in the act of undressing, as if shedding the layers would somehow alleviate the burden you carried. The moonlight filtering through the window cast shadows across the room, emphasizing the isolation you felt.

Laying on the bed, your tears soaked into the fabric beneath you, a silent lament for the choices made and the uncharted territories navigated. The intimacy, though a fleeting connection, left a profound impact, and the aftermath left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions.

As the night wore on, the tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a quiet ache and a lingering question of what the dawn would bring. In the solace of your room, you found yourself wrestling with the complexities of desire, regret, and the uncertain path ahead.

The morning sun painted Winterfell in hues of gold, casting a warm light over the courtyard. Despite the tender touch of dawn, the echoes of the previous night's emotions still sat within your heart.

A soft knock on your door signaled the entrance of your father, whose countenance bore the strength of responsibility. "(Y/N)," he began with a softness, "gather your sisters. There's something we must discuss."

Compelled by both curiosity and a lingering sense of unrest, you summoned Arya and Sansa to join you in the family chambers. As the three of you assembled, a somber atmosphere enveloped the room, foreshadowing the gravity of your father's impending words.

Ned stood before you, a stalwart figure. "My daughters," he started, his voice bearing both love and gravitas, "a change is upon us. I have been offered the position of Hand of the King by King Robert."

Sansa's eyes widened, Arya's skepticism palpable, and you exchanged a glance with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

"We will be relocating to King's Landing," Ned continued, his gaze encompassing each of you. "It is an honor, but with it comes great responsibility. The court is a labyrinth of politics and intrigue, and I need my family by my side."

Arya's rebellious spirit simmered beneath the surface, while Sansa's excitement mingled with trepidation. As for you, the events of the night before lingered, making the move to King's Landing feel like an unexpected twist in the intricate tapestry of your life.

Amidst the familial exchanges, there was another silent dance occurring—one between you and Sandor. His eyes constantly drew your gaze. It was as if an invisible thread connected you, and in those moments, the world around you blurred as your eyes met his, wordlessly conveying a shared understanding of the complexities unfolding.

Ned Stark, seemingly oblivious to the subtle interplay, continued to outline the responsibilities that awaited the Stark family in the capital. As he spoke, your eyes frequently found Sandor's, and each exchange carried a weight of unspoken emotions. His gaze, normally guarded, held a hint of something that transcended the stoic exterior he presented to the world.

When Ned mentioned the unity of the Stark family in facing the challenges ahead, your eyes involuntarily sought out Sandor's once more. In that shared gaze, there was a recognition that echoed the uncertainties of the path ahead and the uncharted territories that lay before you.

The air seemed heavy with the weight of impending change as you sought out Sandor in the quiet corners of the castle. You found him in a secluded courtyard, the familiar hounds of House Stark milling about nearby. The atmosphere was tense, and the silent exchange of glances from before lingered in your mind.

"Sandor," you began, your voice cutting through the stillness. He turned to face you, his expression guarded but expectant.

The words tumbled out, the night before demanding acknowledgement. "What happened between us… it was unexpected, and now with the move to King's Landing, I don't know what this means."

Sandor's gaze, normally impenetrable, softened in a rare display of vulnerability. "It means nothing, my Lady. Just a moment in time, and we move on."

But you couldn't shake the lingering questions. "Is that all it was to you? Just a moment?"

He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours with a raw honesty. "It was more than that, but it's not something that fits into our worlds."

A surge of frustration mixed with a tinge of sadness swept over you. "Our worlds? What does that mean, Sandor? We're both headed to King's Landing. We're both a part of whatever is coming next."

His gaze held a complexity that mirrored the conflict within. "In King's Landing, there's a different kind of game being played. I’m not the one to bring into your world, and you sure as hell don't belong in mine."

The words stung, but there was a resignation in his tone, as if he sought to shield you from the harsh realities he faced daily.

You took a step closer, unwilling to let the unspoken linger. "I can decide what world I belong to, Sandor. And right now, I want to understand what this is between us."

He sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctance. "We're just two people caught up in a storm. Best not to overthink it."

Before you could press further, the sound of footsteps approached, and the courtyard suddenly felt less secluded. Sandor's eyes met yours once more, a silent understanding passing between you.

"In King's Landing, things will have to change," he muttered, his tone a gruff acknowledgment of the challenges ahead.

The bittersweet taste of truth lingered in the air as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead. A silent understanding passed between you, a farewell woven with unspoken regrets and the inevitability of parting ways.

As the distance between your bodies widened, the courtyard seemed to stretch infinitely. The angst that clung to the parting moments left an indelible ache, a silent ache that would resonate in the chambers of your heart long after the echoes of Sandor's footsteps faded into the shadows.

"I don't want to lose you," you confessed in your mind.

#sandor clegane smut #smut #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #the hound #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane x you #the hound x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #reader insert #got smut

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dailygale · 7 months

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So I had a look at the exterior of Gale's tower and the Waterdeep landscape, and I managed to grab a few shots. Unfortunately, but as I suspected, all we get is what we're already shown so there isn't much to go off of, as you see here:

and you can see in this and the second image, Gale's home doesn't even have a roof or, what I imagine should be at least a few more floors. Still, what we get is beautiful and I am a sucker for seaside vistas.

@official-sklonda thank you for giving me reason to dig deeper. If you assume that the statue in the backround is the Honourable Knight (and even that's a stretch because it doesn't really match the description well but it was the closest I could find), then he would be in the trade ward but that doesn't connect to the water so I'm going to assume he's meant to be in the dock ward and the statue is meant to be more distant. Which is curious. I'd also say based on the location that puts him likely on Dock Street but then we run into the issue that no buildings there really back onto the water the way these seem to. So I'd say, for your purposes... pitch Dock Street and see what your GM says? Otherwise, you could probably wiggle him up to Sail Street, which is closer to the Castle Ward. It's not much, but I hope that helps! (apologies I didn't get more of the balcony itself, if you were hoping for that. I didn't want to get my character in the shots and he popped up earlier than expected lol)

#bg3 #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 gale #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #dailygale #baldur's gate #waterdeep #exterior #sorry for the spam i suppose this isn't very 'daily' but I got excited lol

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forjongseong · 11 months

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bite me // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: knight!jay x princess!reader

genre: royalty!au, fantasy, smut (minors dni) // warning: profanity, mentions of death, unprotected sex, a lot of biting // wc: ~6k

summary: a knight stumbles upon your castle, and unlike anyone you have encountered before, this young man seems to have a scent that you somehow cannot resist.

author’s note: I'm going to be quite honest with you, this fic is long overdue. I planned on releasing it BEFORE enhypen's comeback, since the idea came after I watched their mini-movie where Jay literally got his neck bitten by the actress but moods come and go, ideas appear and fade, so here you go.

initially it was also inspired by their concept pics, the Full ver. of their Dark Blood album, and I also thought of an alternate version (where Jay is the castle resider instead and y/n is the traveler/knight, let me know if that's something you might be interested in).

warning, though, this one might feel a little choppy, a bit hasty, and all over the place. my excuse is that I am drunk in love with Jay, and I take full responsibility.

no taglist this time, I shall let people find this fic on their own.

if you're here, congratulations and welcome! hope you can enjoy this one too.

When Jay heard the words ‘isolated castle’, he was expecting a huge building made of gray bricks with several towers that scraped the sky, sitting in the middle of an endless sea of sand with no roads connected to it. He pictured the sun shining mercilessly on whoever was standing under its light, and he was slightly worried about finding a source of water, as well as food.

Yet here he was, standing on top of a plush bed of grass, staring at the stone path that led to the castle in front of him. It was made of bricks, yes, but they were in the shade of copper, a warm and inviting kind of brown. The castle had no tower, or none that he could see so far, but it stood tall and mighty despite being surrounded by luscious greens and equally tall trees.

Jay reached for the worn-out map in his satchel, but as he stretched his arm, he winced from the sharp stinging pain that he had been feeling since hours ago. He did not know exactly when or how he injured himself—maybe he slept wrong, or maybe he used his hand wrong, or maybe it was just destined for everything to go wrong—but he was sure he had arrived at his destination.

During his years of training to become a knight, Jay had read countless tales, not minding if they were fact or fiction, and he had gained enough knowledge to go on a lot of missions alone. The townspeople were very supportive of him, as it was expected that the men in each family each take a role that was beneficial for the kingdom.

Fortunately, since he managed to capture the attention of the princess, Jay was soon handpicked by the king and queen to become their future son-in-law. When they found out that he was a knight, though, they became quite concerned with the tasks and duties that he had to perform. Eventually, Jay had to promise them he would not die no matter what, and it was a tough one to keep.

As happens in every other kingdom, it was customary for a member of the royal family to request an item as a form of dowry. Since Jay was not exactly born into royalty, he was given a task that would get the princess her dowry as well as prove Jay’s aptitude as a knight.

To retrieve the lost diadem of the Panthera onca.

The sound of his metal boots clinking against the rocky path made the resident of the castle open the doors before he could even reach them. You stood in front of him, and he thought your figure was unlike anyone he had seen before. To start, you were glowing. For some reason, the sunlight shined on your slightly tan skin, and it did not help that the outfit you were wearing was made of a sheer fabric that showed a bit of your curves and more of your skin. Second, you were—

“Are you alright?”

Your voice started ringing in Jay’s ears, and he realized how parched he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal, or a sip of water, and the sprain in his arm from falling off his horse was not the only injury that he had. Jay reached his hand up to take off his headgear, and his slightly long hair fell immediately to cover his forehead.

“I,” he began, “I need water.”

And then everything went pitch black.

---

Jay woke up to the sound of birds outside the window, and he instantly noticed that he was lying down in bed. His heavy armor was long gone from his body, and he was only wearing the undergarments he came with. He started backtracking, trying to remember what happened, but then he heard water splashing, so he hopped off the bed and headed directly for the window.

The same woman who opened the castle doors for him was taking a dip in one of the most lavish pools he had ever seen. It was not like Jay had never been to a castle before, but something about this place seemed magical and just so different. He watched as you took laps in the water, and when you emerged out of it, you brushed your hair back as you looked up, and if he did not step away from the window, you would have caught him staring.

Jay sat back on the bed and began to think. Did you undress him? Did you tend to his wounds? Did you carry him up to the second floor by yourself? Are you alone in this castle?

He heard a couple of knocks on his door, and he flinched in his seat. “Come in?” he said timidly.

You pushed the door open and walked in with your hair half-wet, and you were wearing a different gown than before. You were holding a tray that had little trinkets that were supposed to help you with treating Jay’s injury. As you walked up to him, Jay pulled his feet up to the bed and scooted further until his back was against the headboard.

“It’s time to dress your wounds,” you sighed, looking down and avoiding eye contact. “Can you do it alone?”

“I have so many questions right now,” Jay said in a hushed voice as he watched your hands place the tray on top of the bed.

“I’m sure you do,” you replied, scrunching your nose and looking away. “I have to attend to something else, so please.”

You pushed the tray slightly towards Jay and looked at him for a split second before you broke eye contact again. Jay frowned as his eyes followed your movements, and when you disappeared behind the door, he let out a huge sigh that he had been holding in.

The questions he had in his mind multiplied, and he was determined to find the answers soon.

---

Jay had fallen asleep again, and when he woke up this time it was almost dark outside. The faint light of the sun entered his room through the window, and just as he was adjusting his eyes, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, with more confidence this time.

You had changed into yet another gown and your hair was up in a bun. The tray you were carrying had healing herbs and a plate filled with mashed potatoes and other roasted vegetables. When you tried to put the tray on Jay’s bed, he reached out for it and accidentally brushed his hands with yours as he took it away from you.

“Sorry, I,” Jay’s voice hung in the air as he noticed you take a few steps back with unnecessary haste, “I must be bothering you. You don’t have to bring food here.”

“Oh, I have to,” you replied. “There is nowhere else for you to eat.”

“You mean there is no dining room?” Jay asked, setting the tray in front of him.

“There is, but we don’t use it.”

“We?” Jay asked again, seemingly intrigued. “So, there are other people in this castle?”

“Not at this hour,” you shook your head slowly before looking at him. “I just meant myself. And since you are here, we.”

Jay could not help but notice the way you would scrunch your nose once in a while after talking to him as if you had smelled something foul or your nose was itchy. He began sniffing himself out of self-cautiousness, and when he did not find anything wrong, he became even more confused.

“I suggest you stay for another fortnight,” you continued. Your eyes were set on the left side of his waist, and you tilted your chin pointing to that area. “Your wound has to heal completely.”

“Right, about that,” Jay sat up straight and pulled his top up.

You blinked and immediately looked the other way, not wanting to stare at his bare body. Jay noticed your behavior and smirked to himself.

“I actually can’t reach this part very well since I sprained my arm too,” he said, pointing to his side. “I mean, I could, but it’s quite painful.”

You sighed heavily before licking your lips, and you thought it would be easier to get it done as quickly as possible. You grabbed the chair that faced the vanity and sat it beside Jay’s bed. You reached for the herbs and kept your eye around Jay’s wound, trying your best not to look up into his eyes.

“Are you a princess?” Jay asked carefully, keeping his eyes on you.

You nodded as you cleaned the edges of Jay’s wound, dabbing his skin with a damp cloth.

“Then why are you in this castle alone, Your Highness?” he asked again, adjusting his position, and pulling his top higher.

You paused to look at him for a while, but you managed to avoid his eyes. “It’s a long story,” you finally replied.

“I am a good listener,” Jay said, smiling at you.

You looked out the window and noticed that the sun was almost gone, so you sped up the process and in turn made Jay flustered. The movements of your hands became hasty, and you were sure you pressed on his wound a little too hard because you heard him hiss, but you knew you had to leave the room as soon as you were done.

“Eat your dinner and rest up,” you said as you stood up, wiping your hands with a cloth and brushing the skirt of your gown down. “I will see you in the morning.”

“Your Highness…”

The door slammed behind you and Jay was too shocked to even form a proper reaction.

“…I don’t even know your name,” he murmured to himself, staring blankly at the door and then at the food you had served him.

---

Jay woke up the next morning to the sound of a horse neighing. He recognized it and immediately jumped out of bed, making his way to the window as he winced in pain at the sudden movement of his arms. He spotted you in the courtyard with three other people he had never seen before, and since he was already feeling better, he decided to approach you.

When Jay entered the courtyard, you were stepping away from the horse, letting the castle’s servants tend to it instead since you figured it grew uneasy around your presence. As you took a couple steps back, though, you felt a pair of hands hovering over your shoulder.

“Whoa,” Jay said in a low voice. “Careful, Princess.”

You turned around and stood straight, nodding your head slightly to greet your guest.

“We found him in the woods this morning,” you explained without waiting for Jay to ask. “I assume he is yours.”

“Thank you,” Jay replied, already approaching his horse. In an instant, the black beast calmed down. “His name is Shadow.”

You nodded and observed the way Jay patted his horse, speaking to him in a calm manner and handling him in the gentlest way you had ever seen a man treating an animal. For a second, you witnessed the way the color of Jay’s face shifted, and you saw him as a commoner with a huge love for creatures instead of a wounded knight.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, breaking your own distraction. “I suppose you can handle him now. I’ll have my people take care of him too.”

Your castle staff hovered around you and spoke to you in whispers, and you responded to them in a similar way, stealing glances at Jay. When you noticed him glancing back at you, you turned around and started walking away with your staff.

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Jay spoke to Shadow. “You’re usually friendly to strangers. Pretty princesses too, mostly.”

Shadow snorted as he shook his head, almost hitting Jay in the face with his long mane.

---

As the hours went by, you tried your best to keep a distance from the knight in your castle. Every time Jay asked you a question, you would answer accordingly, trying not to give out too much information. After all, he was a stranger in your place, and you always had your walls up when it comes to protecting yourself.

It wasn’t until Jay revealed the reason he was out and about around your castle’s ground that you became instantly defensive. You were tending to his wounds and scars, the last of them, and once he mentioned the lost diadem, you let go of the cloth in your hands, letting it fall to the floor.

“You’re looking for the diadem?” You asked, not because you didn’t hear him the first time, but because you needed confirmation.

“Do you know where it is?” He asked back, eyes looking at yours full of hope.

You shook your head. “You shouldn’t be looking for it. Many men have died trying to possess it. It wouldn’t be any different this time.”

Jay frowned and almost chuckled. “So, you do know about it? I’m sure if you tell me, I can give it a—”

You snatched the tray away from his bed, your feet scurrying to leave his room as fast as you could. Jay’s mouth hung open as he watched you leave, and he was too stunned to do anything else.

That night, Jay realized he must have made a huge mistake. The distance you put between you and him became bigger, and you had tasked your staff to tend to his wounds and bring him his food instead of coming over yourself. This went on for days, and as much as Jay tried to ask your staff about you, he would receive no valuable information.

One night, Jay decided to take matters into his own hands. He had memorized the staff’s schedule, down to the hour that they would come to his room, so he picked a clear slot in the middle of the night to sneak out, determined to find you. Jay was clearly gifted with cat feet since his movements were barely audible, and as he searched through almost the whole castle, he finally heard some noise coming out of what seemed to be the largest room in the building.

He heard what sounded like a purr, and it was so loud that he could almost feel the walls vibrate. Jay pressed his body to the wall, making zero noise as he craned his neck to peek through the open window.

Jay saw you sleeping on the bed in a curled position. He knew it was you since the bedroom looked royal and you were the only person of royalty in this castle, but he had to do a double take.

You were curled up, indeed, but as he adjusted his eyes to the dark, he saw you lifting up your head and yawning.

Except it wasn’t your head. It was the head of a jaguar.

Jay squinted his eyes as his mind tried to make sense of what he was witnessing. You had the head of a jaguar and the paws of one, but your body remained the same. With a hitched breath, Jay leaned back on the wall and shook his head, thinking he was dreaming. He then decided to look a second time and to his surprise, you were already standing by the window.

“Fuck!” Jay shouted, stumbling back and falling to the ground.

You growled at him, keeping your yellow eyes focused on his figure. Jay managed to regulate his breathing and brushed the grass off his thighs before standing up again.

“Princess?” Jay asked, unsure. “Is that you?”

Jay took a step closer to you and you hissed, pulling the curtains down to cover the whole window before your shadow disappeared into the darkness.

---

When Jay woke up in the morning, he thought he had an elaborate and odd dream. He was hoping so, but then he heard a knock on the door before one of your staff opened it and peeked inside.

“The princess is expecting you, Sir,” he said. “At the dining room.”

Jay sat up and massaged his temple before responding. “She wants to see me?”

The man nodded once and was about to leave when Jay cleared his throat.

“Do you know what happens to the princess at night?” Jay asked with a raspy voice. He looked at the man, expecting an immediate answer.

“We all do, Sir.”

Jay sat on his bed as he gathered his thoughts, as well as his strength before he stood up and dressed to go see you. He was determined to find out what this was all about, and he decided to just ask you directly this time, no matter how forward it might seem.

At the dining table, though, all Jay could do was stare at the breakfast plate in front of him. He looked to your side and saw that you only had a glass of water. Jay cleared his throat before picking up a fork and starting a conversation.

“Are you not hungry?” He asked, looking at you warily.

“I already hunted last night,” you answered calmly, toying with your bronze cup of water.

Hunted, he thought. So he was not dreaming.

“I’m sure you have questions,” you continued. “And since you already know…”

“What happened to you, Princess?”

You were not expecting Jay to shoot a question as suddenly as he did, so you almost choked on your own words.

“You’re a knight,” you smiled softly. “You must know a lot of tales. Evil witches. Desperate kings and queens. Cursed princesses. I’m just one of them.”

“But what happened?” Jay asked again, completely abandoning his breakfast.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered, resting both your hands on the dining table.

“Is that why you avoid me during the night?” Jay continued.

You nodded.

“And is that why you have your staff around only during the day?”

You nodded again.

“You’ve been keeping your distance from me, Princess,” Jay said with a desperate sigh. “Is it because I’m a stranger?”

This time you shook your head. “No.”

“Then, why—”

“It’s because of your scent.”

Jay paused and for a while, you thought he had turned into a statue. “I’m sorry?” He finally responded.

“You have a distinctive scent that makes me…”

Your sentence hung in the air and Jay realized you were choosing the appropriate words to voice your thoughts.

“I don’t feed on humans,” you resumed, “and I would like to keep it that way.”

Is she saying I smell like an animal? Jay thought to himself.

“But if it’s a curse,” Jay spoke again, deciding to shift the topic, “how can it be broken?”

You chuckled to yourself, and Jay swore he had just witnessed the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

“What’s the most cliché thing you can think of?” You asked back before patiently waiting for an answer.

“A kiss?” Jay answered in a tone that sounded more like a question.

You snorted and looked away. “The curse can only be broken if someone sincerely falls in love with me. I bet you can imagine how hard that would be.”

Jay took your answer and started backtracking everything in his mind—from the moment he arrived at your castle, to the way you tended to his wounds and took care of him in every way despite keeping your distance. He wondered if you had done the same thing to other knights or travelers who had stumbled upon your castle.

“I was actually hoping I could keep this hidden from you until your time is up,” you said after noticing he had been silent for too long. “Tomorrow, it will be a fortnight since you came here. I was told that you’re perfectly healed, so you can leave as soon as you want.”

Jay followed your movements as you stood up from your seat, pushing it back before you walked over to a shelf on the other side of the room. You pulled open the lowest drawer and took out a headpiece decorated in the most exquisite set of emeralds and diamonds.

“The diadem you’re looking for,” you said, bringing it to him. “Take it with you.”

You waited for Jay to take the diadem out of your hands, but he just stared at it.

“Sir?” You asked, shaking the diadem a little in front of his eyes.

“You said,” Jay began and licked his lips, “you said many men have died trying to possess it. You told me to forget about it.”

“That was because most of those men tried to take it by force. It did not end well. You were a nice guest, well, most of the time if you weren’t lurking around the castle. My staff also told me how kind you are to them.”

Jay tilted his head. “Let me get this right,” he said, “you’re giving the diadem to me just like that because I’m… nice?”

“Also, because I want you to leave.”

For some reason, your statement felt like it stung his heart.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You already told me your story. I’m helping a knight achieve his goal.”

You set the diadem beside Jay’s plate and started walking towards the door.

“I’ll have my staff ready your horse for tomorrow,” you said without looking back. “Live well, dear knight.”

Jay had lost count of the many times you left him alone in a room during his stay in your castle. However, unlike the previous times where all he felt was mostly confusion, this time it hurt.

---

It had been days or maybe weeks since Jay left your castle, and although you had grown accustomed to his absence, you could not deny that at times you missed his presence. It was not like you had spent a lot of time together, but you heard from your staff how Jay would behave, how he would treat everyone with kindness and respect, and how gentle he was when it came to animals and plants.

He was unlike any other knight you had met before, but that made him the most dangerous.

Jay did not know that every time you came into his room and caught a whiff of his scent, your eyes glinted in hunger. He was not aware of how hard you were keeping your thoughts to yourself, and he definitely was not aware of how you started to confuse your thoughts with your feelings, thinking that he might be the one who could lift your curse.

The single dream you had was then shattered as quickly as it was built. When you found out that he needed the diadem as a present for his betrothed, you threw all your hope out the window. You wanted to stay civil, though, and you figured that the best way to not act up in front of him was to just stay away from him.

Therefore, you were stunned to find him again on your doorstep this evening. It was almost sunset, and you began to observe his figure under the yellow light. He looked better, healthier, and there was this glow on his face that made him even more handsome.

“Princess,” he greeted you, smiling.

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes focused on the item in his hand. Your diadem.

“I believe it would be unfair for me to take what is rightfully yours,” Jay said, slightly lifting the diadem.

“What are you doing?” You asked. It was the only thing that came out of your mouth.

“I came back because,” Jay paused, “I want to ask you to marry me.”

You had experienced many odd encounters in your life, but this had to be one of the most bizarre ones.

“This is a sick joke,” you retorted before turning away from him.

“Princess, wait!”

You rushed back into the castle, heading into your room since you knew you were going to change soon. You did not want to end the surprise meeting badly, and your mind was too clouded that you did not notice your staff scurrying back into their chambers, completely ignoring that a knight was chasing after you.

As you finally reached the door to your bedroom, you pushed it open and entered before you slammed it shut. However, you did not hear the door close and when you turned around, Jay was holding it open.

“Please,” Jay begged, looking at you desperately.

You were about to scream at him, but words would not come out, and instead, your voice turned into raspy growls and hisses. Jay let himself inside and closed the door behind him as he witnessed your transformation, and once you were in your jaguar form you jumped onto your bed, trying to get as farther away from him as you could.

“It’s okay,” Jay said, calmly making his way towards you. “You’re okay.”

Jay reached out his hand to your snout and you looked away, sniffing and resting your head on a pillow. It did not deter him, and he even moved closer and made himself comfortable on your bed before placing a hand gently on top of your head.

“It will be okay,” Jay spoke again in a lower tone, a voice of reassurance.

As you felt Jay gently stroking your head, he saw a single tear trickle down your nose. You were gritting your teeth while forcing your eyes closed, trying to block any bestial urges that might arise.

---

You woke up with your head on top of Jay’s chest, and the way his chest moved up and down with every breath he took made you gather your senses in a faster manner than usual. You realized he had spent the night with you in your room, and you also remembered how you starved yourself the whole night just so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt him.

You quickly came to the conclusion that a relationship with him would never work, and you began to taint your own thoughts by assuming that he came back to tame you, not because he loved you, and that he only saw you as another quest in his life as a knight. With that, you decided to leave the castle before he wakes up, hoping that if you leave him for long enough, he will yield and return to his kingdom.

Unfortunately, after stumbling upon Shadow in the woods, you were forced to return home, with the horse surprisingly following you in a calm manner as if he knew he was there to serve a purpose. You were worried sick, partly because it was only hours left until sunset and also because there was no other way Jay would leave your castle unless his horse was with him. Sure enough, Jay was waiting for your return and his face lit up the second he saw you approaching the grounds with Shadow beside you.

“You need to leave,” you said, handing over Shadow’s lead line to Jay.

You went inside and after a short while, you thought you were safe and that Jay had left, but once again he tailed you right until you reached your chambers, and by that point, you were too exhausted to drive him away.

“My family disowned me,” you began, not bothering to give any preceding context. “I’m not worthy of marrying you.”

“Princess,” Jay scoffed before he licked his lips. “I’m not even royalty.”

“I can’t stand the thought of holding myself back when you’re around,” you continued, covering your mouth with both your hands. “It will never work.”

Jay stood by your bed as you sat on its edge, looking down and resting your elbows on your thighs as you continued to cover your mouth.

“Bite me.”

You frowned and lifted your head from your hands. “What?”

“All you need to do is to get used to my scent,” Jay said, sitting next to you. You shifted in place. “So, bite me.”

You looked at Jay, unsure, and he nodded once before tilting his head, giving you access to his neck. Your hands trembled as you reached for his shoulder, so he grabbed your hand in his and held it tight. When he felt your nose bump into his chin, he closed his eyes, and when he felt the warmth of your breath graze the skin on his neck, he almost shivered.

You bit him once and at the same time, you felt his hand squeeze your waist. His scent flooded your mind, and you could not hold back from biting him one more time, so you did. You let go with a shaky breath and pulled away only to find Jay looking into your eyes.

“It’s not bad, isn’t it?” He asked.

You licked your lips and brought your other hand to his shoulder.

“Do it again,” Jay demanded.

You tilted your head to the other side of his neck, where you found a heart-shaped birthmark, and this time you bit him there without hesitation.

“See?” He spoke, and his voice echoed right into your ear. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Jay squeezed your waist one more time before you decided to bite him a couple more times. He began rubbing your back gently before you suddenly felt a wash of overwhelming feelings. You moved back to the other side and bit him again, but this time you bit too hard that he winced and let go of his grip on your waist.

You flinched at his reaction and immediately felt regret. Your eyes flickered to the window, and you noticed how quickly the sun was setting, so before Jay could say anything you jumped to your feet and ran out of your chambers.

“Princess!”

Your feet took you to the farthest room in the castle and you quickly entered it, locking the door behind you. You leaned back on it and started sobbing, thinking of how foolish you were to even entertain the idea of marrying Jay in your condition. You slumped to the floor and sobbed, ignoring the banging on the door and Jay’s distraught voice begging you to let him in.

“Please leave, Jay.”

Your voice was weak and almost a croak, and you figured it was because of all the crying. But then Jay also stopped knocking on the door, and you heard rustling and a couple of soft taps by the keyhole.

“Princess? I can hear you.”

You almost choked on your own sob at Jay’s obvious remark, but then you paused, and you heard him speak again.

“Look out the window, Princess.”

The sun had set, and you could not believe your eyes. You held up your hands, your fingers, in front of you before you touched your own face to feel your nose, your cheeks, and your lips. Then you checked outside again, making sure your mind was not playing tricks and that you really had not transformed.

You heard another knock on the door and without waiting for another word you opened it. The look on Jay’s face was that of relief mixed with adoration, and he did not waste any time walking towards you to pull you into his embrace. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, staining his skin with your tears and letting him wrap his arms around you as tightly as he could.

You felt him tug one of your sleeves and you pulled back to look at him. He brought his hand up to caress your face, wiping the remaining tears off your cheek.

“Marry me, Princess.”

You answered by inching your face closer to his before nodding slightly and kissing him on the lips. You tasted his sigh right after, loving the way his arms wrapped around you again as you pulled him even closer by the neck. He shut the door behind him with his foot and moved you towards the bed, carefully guiding you all the way as he placed his hand on the small of your back, not even once pulling away from the kiss.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed and you both stopped, pulling away to catch your breath and to undress yourselves. Jay pulled his top off quickly while you struggled with your corset, so he gently shoved your hands away so he could undress you himself. When he pulled all of your clothes down to pool at your feet, you could feel his breath against your thighs, and you almost lost your balance if he did not place his hands on your hips.

Jay began kissing your core without warning and you whimpered at the sudden warmth. Just moments ago, you were biting his neck like he was your prey, yet now you are watching him devour you, his face in between your legs as you struggle to even keep your eyes open. At one point, the way his tongue was pressing on your clit made you pull on his hair a little too tight, and when he looked up at you, he grinned before licking his top lip.

You sat down on the bed and pulled him in by his shoulders, and he began to lay you down before he settled over you. He got rid of the last of his clothes and you could feel his tip graze your bottom lips.

“Jay, wait,” you whispered, placing a palm over his chest.

He leaned into you to give you a soft peck on the cheek. “Yes, Princess?”

You chuckled and began caressing his face with one hand. “Do you even know my name?”

Jay let out an airy but silent laugh, burying his face in your neck. “Do you really think I would stay for so long in this castle without knowing the name of the residents? You know my name even without me telling you.”

You rested your thumb on his cheek and the rest of your fingers behind his ear, making him face you again. He moved his face to kiss your palm.

“Then call me by my name,” you requested. “And I shall chant yours like it’s my favorite spell.”

Jay smirked before leaning in to kiss your lips. “Very well then,” he whispered into your mouth, “Y/N.”

You felt him ease into you with a gentle force, and he caught your gasp between his lips. You held on to his shoulders as he began thrusting in and out of you, making you bring your legs up in order to feel him better.

“Slowly, Jay,” you begged him once you felt his pace was going a little too fast.

Jay grunted, seemingly unable to control his thirst for you, so you kept the pace by meeting him halfway and grinding your hips towards his. You could feel his biceps flexing as he held himself up, so you caressed his arms before you made your next request.

“Bite me.”

You brushed his hair back before you let him kiss your lips, and after that his lips traveled down to your chin and to your neck, licking you there several times before he bit you. You chanted his name as you promised, and when it was time for him to reach his high, he moaned your name right into your ear.

As you felt his seed coat your insides, you felt his thumb circling your clit for you to catch up with him. He pulled out of you only to finger his load back inside your hole, and that was how you reached your high of the night.

When Jay collapsed by your side, you became aware of the marks that you had left on his neck earlier that evening. You moved closer to him, and he welcomed you by pulling you to his side with one arm, having you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Are you sure it didn’t hurt?” You whispered, too afraid to disturb the serenity.

“Princess,” Jay began. “My princess,” he corrected himself. “Even if it hurt, I liked it.”

You snorted and tapped Jay’s cheek, and your body moved with his as he started to laugh.

“If you feel the urge next time,” he continued, “just come and leave marks on my neck.”

Jay tilted your chin up with his finger before kissing you softly, and for the first time in forever, you finally felt content.

-END-

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

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casper-spills · 3 months

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♡ 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 ♡

♡ ᴘɪʟᴇ 1 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 2 ~ ᴘɪʟᴇ 3 ♡

Happy Valentine's Day! ♡

I hope everyone's doing well! ♡ It's been a while since I've done one of these and I've been really excited to do this one! This time, I'm writing these almost like a story of what's going to happen but I will warn you, I am not the most amazing story teller in the world haha but I hope everybody enjoys the reading they got and remember to only take what resonates ♡

All feedback is appreciated!

Sincerely,

Cassy the friendly ghost ♡

Discaimer: Tarot reading is for entertainment purposes only and should never take the place of professional therapy or professional legal, medicinal or financial advice.

𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒟𝒶𝓎 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉! ♡

𝟧𝟢% 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝒫𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈!

Ends on Feb 19th 2 Questions £10 ~ £5 3 Questions £14 ~ £7 5 Questions £24 ~ £12 10 Questions £40 ~ £20

| BOOK A READING WITH ME | KO-FI |

♡ ᴘɪʟᴇ 1 ♡

Cards: Five of Swords, The Sun, Knight of Wands, The Hierophant (reversed), The Hanged Man, The Moon, Five of Cups (reversed), Four of Cups, Six of Coins, The World (reversed), The Devil, The Fool (reversed), Ace of Swords (reversed)

Some of you might be a part of the LGBT community and for those of you who aren't, it might be that you are not very traditional and don't play into the roles that society would have placed you in.

It is a warm and sunny day by a lake or some kind of body of water but I get the feeling that maybe this is someplace you are not supposed to be, like a private or closed off area. Maybe this could be a closed off pool area in an old building. You find your way in and I see your date being reluctant to go but they follow you anyway. They're becoming increasingly more anxious about being here but you reassure them that nobody comes here and reveal the suprise, a game! This might be some kind of arcade game or ping pong table that has been left on the property and, soon enough, they give in (since they're a sucker for games.)

Now this is interesting. You actually aren't sure if this person feels the same way about you and this is you shooting your shot. Again, I get the feeling that the majority of you might be LGBTQ+ and you're really taking the leap of faith on this. Good for you!

You both having lots of fun, your date managed to score a point and you cheer together! (So cute). There's a moment of silence and there's intent behind their gaze, and you think to yourself, 'its now or never'. So you pour every ounce of faith into this chance and swiftly kiss them, waiting for their response. To your relief, they return the kiss, and it is passionate and warm and perfect ♡

Messages from them to you: 'You're so beautiful and I don't know how to tell you' 'I hope it is what i think it is' 'I really hope you're sure about this and about me' 'I'm sure that it's you that I want' 'Please make the first move'

♡ ᴘɪʟᴇ 2 ♡

Cards: Eight of Cups, Page of Coins (horizontal), King of Cups, The Devil (horizontal), The Lovers, Three of Coins, The Tower (horizontal), Page of Cups (horizontal), The Hanged Man (horizontal)

This is somewhere quiet, somewhere where people might come to learn like a library accept there isn't many people here. I could be that you're a student and I'm getting major breakfast club vibes. I feel like you and your person are in detention together or perhaps it feels like you're getting punished with the work you have to do. (I know this isn't the most romantic date in the world but stay with me.)

I'm getting the feeling that you are paired with this person for a project. Even though you really want to focus and not fall behind, they seem to be distracting you and weighing on your mind. You like them because how can you not? They're gorgeous! But they're annoying the heck out of you, 'plus, they're super weird', you think to yourself.

You eventually decide that this is getting too much and get up from your seat to start looking in one of the isles for a book. You feel your face turning redder and redder the more they try to get your attention. Once they realise that they aren't getting anywhere, they begin to actually talk to you about the work and ask to see the book you have taken off the shelf. Suddenly, they don't seem as ignorant as you thought, and they're pretty smart when they actually want to be. You wonder if maybe this person just wants to connect so you give in and entertain them a little.

You very quickly regret your decision when they boldly ask you if you're blushing because you like them. Not saying anything, you look away, poorly hiding the fact that you're clearly red in the face. Under your breath you ask them, 'please, stop messing with me' because you're starting to feel like you could cry if this keeps up. There's a moment where they don't say anything and the silence becomes defening. All you can hear right now is the beating of your heart and you can't help but feel like their gaze is becoming too intense for you.

Unexpectedly, the awkwardness is broken by a kiss on the cheek. You're thinking, 'what the heck? Are they trying to give me emotional whiplash?' But before you can say anything they apologise to you. 'I'll stop messing with you and we can get back to doing the project.' They seem sincere and a little different to how they were a second ago. So you shake it off and agree to continue the project, though it's really difficult to focus properly.

Messages from them to you: 'If I don't do anything now, then you'll never consider me' 'I like how intelligent you are' 'I want to get to know you more' 'I need to know what you think of me' 'I want to get closer to you'

♡ ᴘɪʟᴇ 3 ♡

Cards: Four of Swords (reversed), The Star (reversed), Three of Swords (reversed), Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Wands (horizontal), Queen of Coins (reversed), Eight of Swords (reversed)

You're at their house, in their bedroom and I have the feeling that maybe you've known this person for a while now. It's not anything too crazy, just laying down, listening to music and watching the star projector spin. This is perfect because you've been having a really tough week and you really need to just relax. Things might have been tough at work or home and you really need someone to vent to.

So they have set up a comfortable space for you, brought snacks and drinks, and offered to listen for as long as you wanted. This isn't really intened to be a date and honestly, it isn't much of one either, but it's intimiate and it feels different from all the other times that you've hung out with them. They're normally more energetic and chaotic when you hang out with them but today they're really trying to be more considerate and more sensitive. You really appreciate that from them. You're not sure that you want to progress this feeling yet, so your boundaries are clear and all you want right now is a friend. But that doesn't mean things won't change.

Messages from them to you: 'I admire you' 'You're so beautiful' 'You've seen so much' 'Everything is going to be okay' 'You can stay here as long as you want'

♥Thank you for your support! Happy Valentine's Day♥

Special thanks to: @kittywatching @livelythoughts @visualbutterflysworld @honeytarotmind @jeff-satur-is-my-baby-girl @miraclekay97 @artscapismsworld @julyourwitch @notakitsune @mercurialstime @soledad-montoya @depressedcap @bibislutmarvel @coconuttreesstuff

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nobody-nexus · 3 months

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TADC Episode Idea

Because of me and @nebulaickiwi being on a Discord call alone, we managed to come up with a concept for a potential Amazing Digital Circus episode, and of course I just HAD to make some art for it

I give you: Save The Princess episode!

What's the episode idea? Simple! The adventure of the day starts with Caine snapping his fingers and puts the cast in knight like garb! The task? Well, save the princess! A tall tower behind an obstacle course is what the cast has to deal with

And of course, watch out for the dragon! (The water dragon, that is)

The dragon is based off of water guns, pool noodles, and water balloons. Also he's just a goofy guy who just exists and it causes problems, but I love him anyway. There's no real name for him cause he's an NPC- so he's just "The Dragon"

Another funny visual is that somehow Pomni's the first to get to the tower, and she remembers that Caine said to them that 'when you get to the tower, ask the princess to let down her hair' and so this ends up happening:

I love this idea of coming up with whole ass adventures for the cast to go on and that's just- all the idea IS. Just them GOING ON AN ADVENTURE and seeing the wild shenanigans they'll do

So yeah I just needed to get the brainworms out of my system so hope ya liked this

Before ANYONE ASKS Caine IS the princess. And yes. He IS in a dress

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revasserium · 2 months

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Zoro and the hunter's heart (as, you know, he's a former pirate hunter... nudge nudge)

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

a hunter's heart

opla!zoro; 6,553 words; fairytale retelling!au, fem!reader, no "y/n", hunter!zoro, fluff and angst (only a bit), hurt/comfort (kinda), mentions of witches and magic and curses

summary: there are some stories that the world can't stop telling

a/n: i should know better by now than to think an opla zoro fic could be anything but too involved... ╮(￣▽￣"")╭ tagging @dira333 bc its ur request and @bby-deerling bc u were kind enough to ask <3

It is a sordid tale, to hear the villager’s old witch tell it — one near and dear as the rise of the sun in the east, the set of the moon in the west, old as time itself. Because you see, there are some stories so ancient and so integral to the world that it bears, nay demands, retelling, reliving. Stories so stanch and certain that they wear groves into the truth of the world by the tracks they trail, over and over and over again. Stories that the world can never stop telling, no matter how hard it might want to or try.

This is one such tale.

“Take her into the forest — and bring me back her heart,” commanded the Queen.

The hunter had knelt before his queen and bowed his head, his swords heavy at his side. Inside his chest, his own heart was thundering, thundering. A storm brewing within the depths of his soul. But he’d schooled his expression straight and taken his orders.

You were nothing more than a kitchen maid, but you had the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard. All morning, he could hear it echoing through the cool stone halls as you went about your baking of the day’s fresh bread, your churning of the week’s soft butter. He’d lean against the wall just outside the kitchens to listen, to let the music of your voice wash over the ragged edges of his soul, to soothe his frayed ends, to mend what parts might have been broken.

Sometimes, he’d find himself wandering toward the gardens in the back of the castle grounds just to catch an echo of your voice near the wells, where he knows you’ll be in the early afternoons, collecting water for the day’s dinner service. Sometimes, he thinks he can hear it over the clink and clash of swords as he spars with his fellow knights and hunters, and he’d catch himself slowing, almost stilling, and those are the only times anyone’s ever managed to get the upper hand on him.

“C’mon doll, give us another tune.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, sing us a sea shanty! Or another one of your show tunes!”

Zoro frowns as he rounds the corner one day to find a few young knights leaning against the castle wall, towering over where you’re standing, a half-filled bucket of water clutched in your hands. He’s about to intervene when he hears the sound of splashing water, and a second later, the young knights are stumbling back, squawking with indignation as you huff, wiping your hands daintily on your apron.

“So sorry, seems like my hand’s slipped —” you drop into a rather sardonic curtsy before marching passed the stunned young men, leaving them blinking and drenched in your wake. Zoro chuckles, the sound making both of them whirl around, color rising ruddy into their cheeks. They sober immediately as they meet Zoro’s eyes.

He cocks an eyebrow, looking them over.

“S-sorry sir… we just — we were uh —”

“Just leaving,” the second knight supplies as he grabs the first by the arm and tugs him back out into the courtyard.

Zoro watches them go with a muted amusement twisting his lips before turning back to find you peering up at him with a bright, steely light in your eyes. Your shoulder is pressed to the edge of the wall, your body half-hidden behind it as if you’re uncertain of what he might do. As if you’re uncertain of him.

“Sorry about them…” Zoro dips his head, suddenly very aware of how he must seem to you — just another one of the Queen’s toy soldiers, gilded in gold, touched by the sly silver of her cool, slithering magic. Would you think he’d be like them — like those bumbling idiots who couldn’t tell a board sword from a longsword? Who thought braveness and bravado one and the same? And suddenly, the thought that you might sickens him, and he swallows hard, hurrying to explain.

“Not all of us are…” Zoro’s voice trails off as he casts about for the right word — idiots? “Like them”? Neither seems to do it all justice.

He watches as you take half a step out from behind the stone wall’s cover and drop into a slight curtsey.

“I know.” And there’s a bright sheen to the soft whisper of your voice, a certainty that Zoro can’t quite place. And he knew then as he knows now that you — you are just a bit different. Just a bit more than he’d ever given you thought or credit for. Perhaps that was his mistake — he makes a mental note not to make it again.

“I know you’re not…” you wave a light hand towards where the other two knights had stumbled away, and the pinkness in your cheeks makes Zoro’s stomach do a few choice flips he’d never remembered his own stomach capable of till now.

There’s a moment’s pause, and then — you both break into laughter at the same time — him, a tad self-conscious, you, unbidden and bright as birdsong.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Your sparring form is really nice.”

You both speak at the same time, and in the startled quiet that stretches right after, Zoro finds himself held still by the weight of your eyes, the heaviness of your gaze as it rests on him, wide and startled and… almost pleased. He clears his throat and tries again —

“I hear you all the time —”

“I see you sometimes —”

It happens again, and when you both pause this time, he can see the burgeoning smile threatening to spill over your petal-pink lips; he can feel his own smile breaking like ice in spring’s first thaw.

“I don’t know much about music but —”

“It looks like you’re dancing —”

By the third time, Zoro’s starting to wonder if you’re doing this on purpose, or perhaps he is — because what wouldn’t he do to keep on basking in the sunshine of your laughter, to soak in the brilliance of your smile? What stars and moons and planets wouldn’t conspire to align just for another chance to glance into the midnight dark of your eyes, as depthless as any sea, as wide as any self-respecting night?

“Well —” Zoro clears his throat; you purse your lips and wait for him to finish, “I’ve never danced…”

Mischief hinges on the edge of your smile as you peer up at him through your lashes, “You should try it sometime. I hear it’s quite the workout.”

And there’s something singing beneath the sweetness of your voice that hints at a darker, more intimate meaning to the word dance, but Zoro stops himself before his mind can unspool entirely. He sucks in a breath and chews over the words now sitting solid and unwieldy on his tongue —

“I’ve always thought dancing… required music and —” he swallows and forces his sentence onward like shepherding a stubborn and reluctant bull, “a partner.”

You let your held lilt sideways, watching him like a bird on a branch might consider a squirrel on the ground.

“It’s just… I’ve never quite had either before,” he hurries to explain, feeling heat creeping into his cheeks and finally, he forces his eyes away from you, glancing up towards the piercingly blue sky, completely devoid of clouds. He curses inwardly, his eyes wandering for something — anything — to latch onto that’s not you and your mesmerizing eyes, with the universe caught behind them, or your lips, shaped so much like the answer to a question he hadn’t realized he’d been asking for his whole, entire life.

He watches as you square your shoulders and take a half-step into his personal space, just the tips of your toes grazing into the proximity of too close and at the same time not nearly close enough — then, you dip into a curtsey, lowering your eyes so he has nothing to ground himself on except for the brief breath of your skin, the waft of your hair sweeping down over your shoulders, smelling so much like cotton and milk, salt and honey.

“But now, from where I’m standing…” you look up, and your smile is so much poisoned apples and cyanide, “you’ve got both, don’t you?”

Zoro sucks in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his head spinning for a second too long and he almost stumbles. Almost. But he catches himself, and when he does, his body moves as a marionette on a string — as if his arms and legs already knew what his mind had for so long kept from him —

He dips into a bow, sweeping one arm over his stomach, the other out to the side. And there’s no dull, discordant clank of armor because hunters and soldiers are made different. Fighters, both, but hunters require a different kind of bloodlust, are a different strain of heartless.

You let out a soft laugh and Zoro wonders if there’s any better music in the world as he offers you his hand. You take it, and he draws your body near with reverent palms, exhaltant fingers — he can almost feel the wild birdwing beat of your heart fluttering in your chest, supplemented by the thundering of his own much more well-trained heartbeat, but even so, the dull pulse of it makes him feel heady with excitement — thump, thump, thump.

And slowly, ever so slowly, the pair of you begin to dance. At first, just to the soft inhale and exhale of your breaths and his. And then, you smile up at him, a startling, chest-piercing, swan-song thing — as you begin to sing.

His first step is hesitant, and the second less so. By the third, Zoro feels his shoulders flattening out and his chest rising as he clasps your palms against his and takes the lead. You let him, with a tinkling laugh, your smile light and bright as daybreak. Your feet skip like pebbles across a mirror lake, and by the time he lets you go, the midday sun is beating down over the castle grounds and the lunch bell is ringing off in the distance. You skip out of his reach and drop into another curtsey —

“Seems like it’s past time for me to go.”

“But —” Zoro bites back the urge to chase after you, his body surging forward to try and stay within the warmth of your orbit.

“Tomorrow,” you breathe, your cheeks a bit too pink, grinning up at him with mischief in your eyes, “after the morning meal… I think I might have some more water to collect.”

You shoot him a meaningful wink as you sweep by him, humming beneath your breath as you go. You brush by him with a sweep of skirt-tails, and it’s a full minute before Zoro can form a coherent thought, whipping around to see the shadow of you disappearing around the corner of the long corridor that leads down to the kitchens.

Up above, neither of you sees the Queen with her blood-red nails clicking against the wide windowsill, her eyes trailing the shape of Zoro as he sucks in a long breath, and shakes himself, before heading back to the training grounds, his earrings catching the afternoon light in a series of gold-gilded sparks.

The next day, Zoro finds you dancing to a two-step by yourself, a bucket of water propped on your hip, the late morning sun caressing your skin like a lover’s fingers. And he finds himself held still by the sight of you, your eyes closed, your body swaying to the rhythm and breath of the earth, the sound of your voice filling the air as water might an already-full glass — spilling over and over till it soaks the earth between you both.

He clears his throat, and you open your eyes. You smile.

Almost sheepishly, he offers you a hand. You take it, and the half-filled bucket is left to teeter precariously on the well’s stone-worn edge as you laugh, letting Zoro pull you in, his palm pressing to the bend of your waist, fingers skimming the small of your back.

Three days, you dance. Three days of blissful mornings and sun-soaked afternoons. Three nights of moonlit walks and roses dipped in starlight.

Because the best things in the world always come in threes — but it just so happens that so do the worst.

Zoro feels his skin crawling when he receives the summons from the Queen. There is only one reason the Queen would summon a hunter like him — she’s found something (or someone) worthy of being hunted. He prays it will not take him away for long.

“Zoro…” the Queen purrs, barely turning to look at him as he bows his head, holding the pose for three beats before straightening. She reaches up to grace her fingers over the edges of an ornate mirror hanging on her wall — a mirror she covets. Zoro has seen its magic, the dull, rough-edged ache thrumming through the earth and the air like poison. He schools his expression into one of flat disinterest as he squares his shoulders.

“Your Highness.”

“I trust you’re familiar with my mirror?”

Zoro makes a soft noise of consent, cold slipping down his spine like cool fingers.

“Then… I trust you know what it does?” the Queen asks, peering at him through it’s dark, onyx reflection.

Zoro glances down, “I can’t say I do, Your Highness.”

“Well then, I’d say you’re in for a treat today —” she chuckles, the sound soft and slithering, her painted lips twisting up in a cruel smirk, “this is a magic mirror, you see… and it’s magic… tells the truth —”

Zoro remains quiet, waiting, waiting.

“Mirror, mirror…”

Zoro feels the air around him condensing, the temperature dropping as the heat siphons from the room into the mirror. The darkened surface swirls with a sickly, purple light before a pallid face appears, empty eye sockets and a hollow mouth. The skeletal reflection peers imperiously back up at the image of the Queen standing before it.

“… tell me, who is the fairest in all the land?”

The Queen preens in front of the mirror, and Zoro feels his stomach filling with lead weight at her question.

Once upon a time, he’d met a kindly old witch in the woods. Her hut had been made of something that looked curiously like gingerbread, and the flowers that decorated her windowsill had glimmered with the shine of tempered sugar. He had offered to help her carry a basket of waxy red apples from the market to her hut and in return, she’d offered him the answer to one question.

“What… exactly is magic?” he’d asked, young and uncertain.

She’d laughed a laugh that might’ve once been high and imperious but then had only sounded like an amused old woman faced with a question she hadn’t quite expected.

“Magic… well — I’ll tell you this — magic is always more than meets the eye, and never what it promises.”

Zoro had blinked, frowning as she’d peered up at him with a pair of mismatched eyes — one milky and filmed over, the other dark as crow’s feathers.

“What does… that mean?”

“It means… that sometimes, magic lies. Sometimes… magic only tells you what you want to hear. Sometimes, magic is more about what you think is true because in the end… that’s the only truth that matters.”

The magic mirror contemplates the Queen’s question as Zoro stands behind her, holding his breath.

“There is but one fairer than Your Highness —”

Zoro’s vision tunnels, the voice of the mirror thickening around him as if his head were suddenly submerged in water. Heat creeps up the back of his neck like spider’s legs, quick and skittering, and he knows the answer before the mirror says your name.

“I see…” the Queen muses, though Zoro can hear the hard edge in her voice, the light catching on it like a twisting blade as she turns back around to face him. And she is beautiful, there’s no denying — the Queen’s face was, up until very recently, what Zoro had thought true beauty must be like.

He’d understood it only in the most abstract, academic sense — beauty — had only ever nodded when the other knights and hunters had wolf-whistled at the rosy-cheeked maids that dotted the castle, scattered along the halls like handfuls of sugar.

The first time he saw the Queen, he’d wondered at the perfect proportions of her eyes and nose, the dark, certain arch of her brows, the cruel tug at the ends of her painted lips and he’d thought — ah, is this what all the fuss is about?

But then he’d seen you, hadn’t he? And your face — he knows it is not perfect, he’s leaned in close enough to see the texture that mars your cheeks, the way one side of your mouth always lilts up first in a smile, the flecks that adorn your eyes like lost shards of sunlight caught beneath your lashes —

Beautiful, he’d thought.

Later, he wonders if that moment might’ve been your doom.

“Take her into the forest,” the Queen says, smiling her cruel, cruel smile as she watches Zoro lower his head, “and bring me back her heart.”

Zoro swallows hard as he bows.

You are waiting for him the next morning, just after breakfast, your hands laced behind your back, an empty bucket resting precariously along the edge of the well.

“No dancing today,” Zoro says, his voice clipped and low, his gaze darting away toward the darkness of the forest behind you. You blink up at him before following his gaze.

“Then… will you accompany me on a walk?”

Zoro frowns, nearly wincing away from you as you lean in, grinning your sly fox’s grin.

“But…”

“Oh, don’t tell me a hunter like you’s scared of the forest.” You dance away from him before he can protest, reaching for the bucket and propping it on your right hip, “C’mon, I promised the head cook I’d pick some berries for the feast tonight. Didn’t you hear? The Queen’s finally found a spell for eternal youth and beauty.”

Zoro stares after you as you pick your way across the garden, making for the wrought-iron gates that separate the castle grounds from the wilderness beyond.

“A spell for…” Zoro’s frown deepens as you glance at him over your shoulder with a sad little smile.

“They say the Queen was cursed by a powerful witch to always search for that which she can never have.”

Zoro keeps behind you as you meander into the shadow of the trees, seemingly following a trail only you can see, occasionally stopping to bend over a burst of bright red berries, picking a few and tossing them into your bucket before pressing one to your lips. He watches as berry juice dark as blood tints your lips and trickles down the edge of your mouth.

“Did you know… that there are only three ways to break a witch’s curse? One is for the witch herself to lift the curse.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, your eyes shine like twin stars.

“Another is to kill the witch and all those who cared for her.”

Here in the darkness of the forest, the lopsided lilt of your smile flashes white, and sharp, dripping dark red —

Zoro’s sword is in his hand before he realizes, and suddenly, every twig-snap and leaf-rustle sets his bones on edge. The wind tastes sweet on his tongue, swirls thick with magic as he whirls around, searching for the silhouette of you and finding nothing but endless, pressing dark.

“Zoro?” your voice nearly makes him stumble as he twists around, eyes wide, chest heaving, only to find the tip of his sword resting against the delicate hyphen of your clavicle. Your breath hitches, soft as he’d always remembered it, but you don’t pull away; you don’t even flinch as you stare up at him, as if waiting for him to do something.

“Are you going to kill me?” your voice is low and smooth, without a single flicker of fear.

Zoro’s grip loosens as he forces himself to pull back. He hisses out a breath and shakes loose his shoulders.

“No,” he says, his own voice coarse, clipped, “I’m not. But —”

“Oh good — that would’ve made things rather awkward for our date.”

Zoro gapes as you laugh, twirling around to continue on your way through the forest. He hastens after you a few seconds later, brushing aside low-hanging branches and shouldering passed thicker bits of underbrush.

“D-date?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sounding very pleased as you lead him on, and on, and on, “you wouldn’t want to miss it — grandma’s baking pie.”

“What… ” but his words trail off once more as you turn and make towards a clearing that he’s certain wasn’t there a moment ago — a clearing with a tiny hut that looks as if it’s made of gingerbread. The flowers on the windowsill glitter jewel-bright and candy-hard.

“My grandma’s house,” you say, smiling as you push through the door with your bucket of blood-red berries still perched on your hip.

Zoro’s frown carves ever harder into his brows as he follows after you on hesitant feet, though he can’t help the way his muscles loosen the second he steps over the small hut’s threshold and catches a whiff of something wonderful in the air — cinnamon and sugar and apples.

“Ah, you’ve made it just in time!” the old witch looks up from where she’s tending a vast fire that casts the entire hut in a warm, ethereal glow. Zoro glances back at the open patch of cloudless blue sky somehow visible in a small gap between the trees before stepping in.

“Apple pie again, grandma?”

“Your favorite,” the old witch replies with a grin as you set the bucket on the small wooden table, “And I see you’ve brought a guest, though…” the old witch’s single black eye catches the firelight as she peers are Zoro, still standing just inside the doorway.

“It’s nice to see you again, young man.”

Zoro bows, rather awkwardly, and though it’s been many years since he’d helped the old woman with her apples, she looks exactly the same. He can’t say quite the same for himself.

“Come, sit! Have some berry wine,” you say, ushering Zoro towards the table, where you’ve somehow replaced the bucket with two jars of red liquid that glimmers like garnets in the flickering firelight. You pour a glass and nudge it towards Zoro, who simply stares, trying very hard to wrap his head around what must be happening.

A dull, thrumming ache is gathering at the base of his skull, but the pie smells so sweet and the wine looks ever so tantalizing.

He reaches out and takes a sip, letting the cool liquid slip down his throat. He feels it slither through him, sending tiny pin-pricks of heat trailing along his limbs as he swallows.

“Ah… so he’s not like the rest of them.”

He blinks down at the wine in his cup for a second more before you reach out and tug it from his hand. A soft palm cups his cheek and forces his face up. He meets your eyes and finds them searching.

“You weren’t lying… you really hadn’t planned on killing me.”

You sound almost surprised as your grandma chuckles behind you, the noise like the clack of old stones against one another.

“I told you he was different,” the old witch says, slowly slicing a bit of pie and putting it on a plate.

“All men think they’re different,” you say, your voice resigned as you take the slice of pie and set it in front of Zoro, “Right, now eat — it’ll make you feel better. I’m sorry about that… just… you can never be sure.”

The old witch tuts, shaking her head, “A broken heart is it’s own kind of curse, you know.”

Zoro blearily takes a bite of cake and feels his senses returning to him one by one; he takes stock of them as if he’d forgotten entirely that he’d lost them in the first place. As he chews and swallows once, twice — by the third time he can feel the tightness in his muscles returning as panic and confusion flood his system.

He jerks up from the table and reaches for his sword.

“Please, there’s no need for that,” you say, though you sound hesitant as you hold up a hand, your expression earnest as you take half a step back.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he seethes, looking between you and the old witch, uncertain of who to aim his anger at.

“I had to be sure,” you say again, your voice imploring as you inch forward, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah well —” Zoro gulps past the dryness in his mouth as he narrows his eyes, “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

You wince ever so slightly, looking away, “No, you’re right but… please,” you say again, and the word works like magic as it settles over Zoro’s shoulders. He wonders if it’s actual magic, but no — there’s no strange sweetness in the air, no thick fog threatening to cloud over his judgment.

“It might be quicker to show him,” the old witch suggests, still watching the pair of you with her one oil-black eye, sounding pleasant and entirely unfazed.

“Right… yes —” you sigh, motioning for the door, “The sty is just out behind the hut — you can go out first if you’d like,” you offer.

Zoro looks between you and the door before inching back and edging open the door with his foot, keeping his eyes fixed on you as you follow him with light, muted movements.

The air outside is crisp and cool and Zoro can’t help sucking in a breath as he steps out from the halo of the firelit hut. Grass crunches beneath his feet, birds sing overhead. There’s the lingering heat of magic still crackling in the air, but when his gaze falls back onto you, he finds you no less lovely than he’d done the first time.

“This way,” you say, rounding the edge of the hut and leading him towards a sizeable pigsty that he’d completely failed to notice the first time he’d been here as a young boy.

A looming sense of dread calcifies in the base of his stomach as he approaches the pigsty on heavy feet. The pigs all jostle against one another, snorting and snuffling with their noses pressed into the long feeding pen. From the pockets of your skirt, you produce a handful of bright red berries and toss it into the pen. Zoro watches with mixed fascination and mounting horror as the pigs tumble over each other to forage for the fruit in the dried hay and mud.

“Have you ever heard the saying that… there are some stories the world never stops telling?” your voice is quiet and sad as you reach over to skim your knuckles along the pale pink snout of a snorting pig.

And suddenly, Zoro understands — he doesn’t know if it was a trick of the light or perhaps the magic still working its way through his system but the understanding comes like a rainstorm, a few tiny droplets before the downpour. And were he a weaker man, he might’ve back and tried to make a run for it. But instead, he stands and stares with a strange pity welling up inside him at the lolling tongues and flopping ears.

“These were all men — hunters,” he says, his words slow at first, but picking up speed as he continues to speak, “Who tried to lure you into the wood to —”

“To kill me, yes, so that they could give the Queen my heart. Because you see, the heart of a witch would give her what she so desperately desires —”

“Eternal youth,” Zoro breathes.

“And the first time, I was heartbroken,” you turn away from him, pressing a hand to your heart, “But I managed to get away. And instead of going back empty-handed to face the Queen’s wrath, the hunter caught a wild boar in the forest and cut out its heart instead. Only — an old she-wolf had been hunting the boar for days, and was robbed of a meal. She and I… we came across each other and I was so — so hurt that I offered her my heart in return for putting me out of my misery.”

Zoro presses his lips as your words rush from you in a great wave, pieces of truths crystalizing before him even as they continue to shatter the world he thought he’d known.

“She told me then that… no man is worth dying for, especially not one who would lie to you just to steal your heart. And she offered to teach me —” you wave a hand at the pigsty, “And the rest…”

The soft silence that stretches between you is thin and pained. You cradle your hands to your chest as if trying to stem the hurt of some unspeakable heartbreak.

“And… the wine?” he asks.

Your face lifts and a strike of that familiar, mischievous light returns to your eyes as you grin.

“That was something I brewed up on my own — if the drinker bears me any ill intentions, then it’ll turn them into something a bit more… fitting of their true hearts. But if not then…” you grace him with a soft smile, “Then it’ll only ever just be wine, though a bit on the stronger side.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

A brief silence falls between the pair of you as the sky above begins to shift from blue to a soft lavender.

“You said… the first time,” Zoro says, curiosity now burgeoning from beneath the receding shock of the day, “Do you make a habit of luring men into the woods, then?”

You scoff, “Luring? Hardly. Magic can only do so much, and though the odd enchanted trinket will sell well at the monthly market, people still tend to be wary around witches.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Zoro says dryly, his eyes flickering toward the sty where the pigs, finally satisfied that there are no more berries to be found, have settled into the thick stacks of hay, grumbling and snorting.

You allow him a derisive smile, “Yes well — a girl and her grandmother still have to eat and bathe, and you can only stand so much apple pie before it starts to get a little old. So… I keep a job at the castle. Believe it or not, serving a self-obsessed Queen pays well. And all those… men —” you force out the word like spitting out poison, “Had seemed… good. At least at first.”

Zoro remains quiet as you pause, looking down at your own hands. It’s the first time he notices the light calluses that mar your palms, not so different from his own. He wonders at the smoothness of the handles on the wooden bucket you’d carried so easily through the woods, at how long it must’ve taken for a pair of hands like yours to wear them down so. The old witch’s words echo in his mind — a broken heart is it’s own kind of curse.

“Is that how you got so good at dancing?” he asks.

You grin, giving him a sidelong glance, “Perhaps.”

Zoro sighs, tilting his head back to look at the small patch of visible sky, now a deep, bruising purple.

“So. Now what?”

You echo his sigh, looking up as well, “You can go back, if you’d like.”

“And what? Tell the Queen that you got away?”

Your smile hardens ever so slightly, “Or, you could kill something else in the forest and offer her it’s heart instead.”

“But wouldn’t she know? After she ate it and doesn’t gain eternal youth?”

You shrug, looking away, “You’d be surprised what a person can trick themselves into believing, if they just try hard enough.”

Zoro nods, letting his eyes fall back down to his hand, resting idle against the hilt of his sword.

“Or, I could stay.”

He doesn’t know what makes him say it — and perhaps it was the darkness of the forest, the close, flustered whisper of the leaves, or perhaps it was the lingering sweetness of your home-brewed wine and the tantalizing smell of magic and cinnamon still in the air. But he says it, and he finds that even the strange, still shocked moment after, he doesn’t regret it.

“You… you want to stay?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so uncertain before.

“Why not? I can’t go back and…” he motions at the hut and the soft ring of warm firelight seeping out from the tiny windows, “The wine’s not bad.”

And perhaps for the first time, Zoro thinks, he sees you smile — a smile that isn’t sharp and full of hidden teeth. A smile that’s helpless and hopeful and just a little bit pained. He smiles back and hopes —

“C’mon then… you can help with the fire. And carry the water.”

“Hn. But you seemed so good at it.”

You shoot him a slight pout as the pair of you duck back into the hut to the smell of roasting vegetables.

There are some stories the world can never stop telling, stories so old that the sing harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

Once upon a time, there was a wolf, a grandmother, and a girl in the woods. Once upon a time, an old witch built a house of gingerbread to lure in the lives of unheedful children. Once upon a time, there was a Queen with a magic mirror. Once upon a time, a witch lived alone in a secluded hut and lured men to her table only to turn them into the pigs they’d always been inside.

Once upon a time, a boy asked a girl to dance.

Once, a boy told the truth and the girl didn’t believe him, because all the boys who’d broken her heart before had given her no reason not to. And a heart can only be broken so many times before it, too, gets tired.

Once, she thought that broken hearts could never be mended.

But she should’ve known that stories, like the magic they hold, very rarely tell the truth. Or perhaps, they too only tell the truths that the listener wants to hear, or is ready to hear. Never more, never less.

So, here is another story — one that’s not so frequently told, but is just as true as the others —

Once, there was a boy who was born with a sword in his hand, who had never know that his body could hold so much music or laughter. Then, he met a girl with the most beautiful voice in all the land, and he, like so many before him, fell in love. Only, the girl had been hurt by all those before him, and no longer trusted the words of boys with sword-hilt smiles and rough, callused fingers. But when he asked her to dance, she agreed anyway, and when she introduced him to her grandmother and offered him wine, he did not hesitate. Instead, he asked if he could stay the night.

That was a long, long time ago.

There will always be another girl with a pretty voice and a viper’s smile at the castle beyond the woods, and always another young knight too eager to please his Queen. There will always be apples at the morning market and magic in the air. But perhaps the pieces don’t fall right where they ought to; perhaps they never did. Perhaps the stories we tell are only ever stories.

“You told me once that there were three ways to lift a curse,” Zoro asks one day, a wooden bucket in one hand, three swords strapped to his opposite hip.

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking up from the large pot of soup bubbling over the fire, a song threading beneath your breath as you sway back and forth.

Zoro grunts as he puts the bucket on the worn wooden table, walking over to slip an around your middle and hook his chin over your shoulder. You laugh as you let yourself be pulled back into his embrace.

“You only ever told me two.”

“Ah… right —” you smile, a smile that is no longer jagged but worn soft around the edges, as if all the sharpness has been smoothed over by years and years of tenderness, years and years of trust, of love.

“So?”

“So…” you place down the wooden spoon and turn to face him, placing your hands on his shoulders as his large, callused palms settle around your waist. The pair of you sway to a song that only the two of you can hear, a song that sings harmony to the very tuning of the universe.

“The third way to break a curse is the easiest… but also the hardest way, depending on who you are,” you say, smiling and swaying in Zoro’s arms. Like this, you can see the late afternoon light as it pours through the small window and catches on the dull gold of his triplet earrings.

“It’s a simple thing, really,” you say, as Zoro leans down to press his forehead to yours, your breaths dancing in the negative space between your bodies. Outside, an old witch sits on a rocking chair and admires the sunset. Occasionally, she reaches into her skirt pockets for a handful of berries to toss into the pigsty to her right.

“Oh yeah? How simple?” Zoro asks.

“Why…” you lean up on your tiptoes, your nose brushing his, your lips mere inches apart. Behind you, bottles and bottles of home-brewed wine sit along the mantle of the great stone fireplace, the color bright and true and freshly spilled blood.

“It’s as simple as a kiss from your one true love, of course.”

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layla4567 · 5 months

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Opla!Sanji with a mechanic reader || headcanons

Just think of a fem!reader who is dedicated to the repair and maintenance of boats. She always has grease stains on her clothes or on her face and with tools in her hand and in the pockets of her overalls.

🐟 I think at first he would be surprised by your nature and way of being. He is used to hanging out with women who are perhaps more superficial and who like to dress up or look good.

🐟 But Sanji admires your independent character and how you know how to defend yourself. Sometimes you caught him checking you out or spying on you when you were working on the boat.

🐟 One day he had approached you with a tray of drinks on a hot day "Maybe the lady would like a glass of cold water?" You were sitting on a box with your torso bent forward fixing a loose piece of wood on the floor of the ship, when you heard his voice you turned around smiling "Oh thanks mate, I needed it" You immediately grabbed the glass and began to drink it almost without breathing while the liquid ran down the corner of your lips and stained your clothes. Sanji looked at you laughing.

🐟 You were so different from the other girls, your "unfeminine" style attracted him and he did everything possible to be closer to you.

🐟 He learned a lot about you and your craft. Sanji loved how capable you were of handling yourself and how you weren't a damsel in distress at all.

🐟 At first, like a gentleman, he offered his help to carry heavy things, but over time he learned to respect your space. He learned this one day when he saw you carrying a barrel resting on your shoulder.

🐟 He can't help but clean grease stains that are on your face when he sees you. More than once he has approached without saying anything and with his kitchen cloth he wiped a small stain on your cheek, looking into your eyes while telling you that dinner was ready.

🐟 I like to think that you would be the one in charge in the relationship, as if he were the princess in the tower guarded by the dragon and you the knight who comes to rescue him (sub sanji 👀?)

🐟 Maybe he will try to learn about boat mechanics to try to help you or spend more time with you (spoiler: he does it terribly) but you appreciate his nice gesture

🐟 Sanji is a gentleman and it's in his nature to help others because he's a helpful person so he will always have food and drinks on hand when you are working. He also can't help but try to help you carry some tools or whatever even though he knows you can handle yourself perfectly well (and he loves that).

#female reader #fem reader #opla #one piece #opla sanji #sanji #the straw hats #one piece netflix #one piece live action #one piece sanji #one piece x reader #headcanon #headcanons #opla headcanons #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #sanji headcanons

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annadoingshitpoorly · 4 months

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Towers Built, and Towers Falling Down - 2

MEDIEVAL AU KNIGHT! ABBY X CHUBBY! PRINCESS! READER

CW: Bath Sex, AFAB Reader, Princess-Y Nicknames, Sweet and Caring Abby, No Explicit Aftercare, Sneaking Around.

Word Count : 2K

(This is a part two to this fic here)

MINORS MEN AND GENERAL CUNTS DNI

Steam fills the air in the stone walled chamber as jug after jug of hot water is poured into the large wooden basin, the servants file in and out of the door as the broad shoulders of Abby keep the door propped open while you sit watching idly from the small cushioned stool in the corner of the washroom. The various tapestries adorning the walls give an air of comfort, a needed distraction as you wait for the preparations to finish, the cold air from the open window causing your skin to goosebump whilst sitting in nothing but a light linen shift. One of the chambermaids proceeds to pour a sweet smelling oil into the warm water, as she dips a hand into the bath you break your silence, “What is that? The oil, I mean.”

She turns to you, curtseying. “Rose, my lady. As far as I am aware.” Lifting the jug, she bows again and leaves. The quiet that now falls across the chamber is comfortable as Abby steps inside, the door closing behind her as she does so. Turning from you to face the door you watch the muscles in her back and across her shoulders ripple as she slides the heavy iron latch down, locking the door and protecting you from any intrusion. Stepping behind the willow branch screen, you strip off the final layer of your shift and lay it across the stool you’d previously been sitting on. As you step out from behind the screen you watch Abby as she catches sight of your nude state and rolls up the sleeves on the tight grey peasant shirt she has on, “Well princess, the water isn’t going to get any warmer.” She speaks with a deep smirk and playfulness in her eyes as she holds out a hand for you to climb into the washbasin.

“Abby. Won’t you get in with me?”

She folds her arms and shakes her head, “I can’t.”

You wrap your arms around her waist, pressing naked curves against her clothed torso. “Please Abby?” Your eyes meet hers, wide and filled with a faux innocence that never failed to cause a pink tint to flood the knight’s neck and cheeks. “Princess. You and I both know that we shouldn’t.

“Just because we shouldn’t doesn’t mean we can’t.”

She huffs a sigh, but steps back from your embrace immediately missing the warmth of your thick arms and proceeds to tug the soft cloth of her shirt over her head leaving her in her thin chest bindings and linen trousers.

“Get in and I’ll finish getting undressed, princess.”

You nod in the negative, blatantly refusing to follow her instructions. With a lifted eyebrow and a smirk, Abby corners you against the basin and her body. “Wanna try that again?” You repeat your previous action, shaking your head but this time with far less vigor and conviction.

“One more time. Get in.”

A final refusal and suddenly you’re flying. Strong arms have wrapped around your thighs, large warm hands gripping under the curve of your ass and you’re thrown over her shoulder. Leaving you fully exposed. The water splashes around you with some spilling out of the tub as Abby unceremoniously plops you into the warm bath water.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” You gasp, feigning anger as you move so that a soft hand covers your heart. Abby takes your other hand into hers as she kneels down on the stone floor, she places a small peck to your knuckle before looking you dead in the eyes. “If my lady can find it in her heart to forgive me, I would be most obliged. Or pardon me, actually.”

“Actually,” you pause to bat your eyelashes at her, “my knight. I don’t think I can forgive you.”

“Oh, and may I ask why, my lady?” The smirk in Abby’s voice causes heat to crawl up your neck as she teases you in a similar way to how you’d teased her. It was revenge. And Abby was extremely good at revenge.

“Well- I- it’s because…”

“Because?” She prompts through her smirk.

“You haven’t earned my forgiveness! And certainly not a pardon.”

At this exclamation, Abby rises from her kneeling as she gets up with a stretch, with a few long strides she positions herself behind you. You try to turn to face her in this new arrangement, but are met with the sound of water spilling out over the rim of your wooden prison and onto the stone below. With a warm hand on your shoulder, Abby guides you back to face the wall as you had been previously.

Now with only your hearing to give you any indication of the blonde’s position behind you, you close your eyes in an attempt to focus in on the microscopic sounds she was making. ‘Rustling… maybe her trousers? No, she still had her belt on…’

As Abby gets undressed as quietly as possible knowing the in’s and out’s of your mind, how it works and how you’re most likely trying to figure out every move she’s making. Sliding the linen down her thighs and to the ground, she doesn’t let it fall but instead sets it gently onto the floor, the soft brown leather of her belt going with it, the small knife that was normally sheathed in it having been set to the side before you’d even gotten into the bath. Her chest bindings follow and she rubs the little red creases the material has left on her skin. As she finishes undressing, she bends to peek over your shoulder to see your eyes still tightly closed, the creases that line your face as it scrunches in concentration. The sight causes a light puff of air to escape her lungs, a quiet laugh.

The proximity of the noise causes you to jump, how she had managed to get as close as she had is beyond you and you tilt your head, eyes now open wide, and are met with the visage of an extremely naked mountain of a woman. “I- uh…” You trail off as you take in every inch of her skin, the freckles you wished that you could see every hour of the day, each little curve of her muscle causing heat to flood your whole body.

“Come on, princess. You have to shift up.”

You scooch forward and pull your legs in together as Abby steps over the rim and into the bath, as she sits down her body displaces a large amount of water. Thick muscled calves slide past the plush of your hips and thighs, long legs rub against your comparatively shorter ones as her hands move against the rolls of your sides and down to rest on the curve of your stomach. You lean into the warmth of her broad chest and she leans into your back, lips meet the nape of your neck and shoulders as she peppers chaste sweet kisses across the skin.

Taking in deep breaths, the warm, damp air fills your lungs as Abby continues her show of affection. Her hands that had remained stationary on your stomach begin to trail lower down the little shelf above your folds, she narrowly avoids touching your core as her nails dig little dents and raise the skin of your upper thighs. This elicits a high pitched whine to slip from your lips and the sound is met with a slight pinch to the flesh of your inner thigh, “Now princess, is that an appropriate sound-”

“No! But…”

“But what, your highness?” Her breath is hot on the shell of your ear. When you don’t say anything, she continues to prompt you, “Tell me what you want.”

As you wriggle further against the blonde sat behind you, her hands slide into place. One with the fingers spread wide to encompass the underside of your breast, rough skin squeezing the soft flesh. Occasionally a finger rubs up against your nipple, the water from her digits wetting the pebbled buds. Soft whimpers fall from your mouth as Abby’s mouth runs kisses and nibbles as she spreads your lips under the water.

Fingers running through the course tight curls of hair, one hand reaches round keeping you spread open as a single thick finger tip runs circles around your clit. Teasing. Circles, round and round but never applying full pressure or coming into full contact with the little nub. She occasionally slips a straight line across your clit, a chuckle falls from her mouth as you push against her hand - desperation becoming even more evident.

“Abby please-!” You whine.

“Words, princess.”

“Fuck me. Please. Fuck m-,” you’re cut off by your own body betraying you, a moan rattles out of your body as slides two thick fingers inside and gives into you, applying straight pressure to your desperate clit with the flat of her thumb.

In and out, she plunges her fingers deep inside of you, stretching. Your breathing is heavy. She continues at a steady pace, constant and smooth fluid movements help to build a tight pressure in your lower stomach. As she continues, the pressure builds and builds and builds. You writhe in her grasp, strong biceps wrap lovingly around you squishing the soft flesh slightly as she attempts to hold you in place as she continues to fuck your weeping cunt.

“You feel so warm around me, Princess.” The blonde whispers into one of your ears, before moving her mouth to leave a warning nip at the lobe of the ear at the other side, “keep your voice down, if you want to finish at any point soon.”

As you feel yourself getting closer and closer, your thighs close on impulse but Abby’s thick wrist doesn’t stop and her fingers don't rest. Not even for one second. You whip around, moaning as water seeps and splashes onto the floor with your movements.

A knock on the door causes you to freeze but Abby keeps going, seemingly not caring.

A muffled voice asks through the door, “Are you alright?” And as you struggle to catch your breath, you squeak out a quick but satisfactory ‘Yes! I’m fine.’

Abigail is relentless and her fingers keep edging you closer and closer. As you two hear the attendant leaves, you cum. One of her hands covers your mouth and you bite into the flesh while she barely winces, too busy keeping you quiet and whispering sweet comforts into your ear.

She bends you forward by your waist and slides out from behind you, you watch her firm muscled ass grab walk away and grab a bathrobe from a stool in the corner, her feet leaving a trail of wet foot prints to where she now stands with her arms outstretched holding the robe out for you to slide on. She watches with dark, needy eyes as you emerge from the water, she watches as droplets fall down your body and gathers in the folds of skin, gods does she want to fuck you again… but she settles for running her hands along the soft plush of your sides.

“I am slightly disappointed I didn’t get to return the favour, Abigail.”

“Oh really? How’s about you meet me in the stable tomorrow morning?” She quips as she gets redressed, you’re left to marvel at how only the very ends of her hair got wet, and you’re left nodding before fully processing what she’s said.

She presses a chaste kiss to your lips and leaves but not before peeking her head back in, “see you then, princess.”

If you liked this please reblog, thicc reblogs save writer lives.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #tlou x reader #tlou #knight au #medieval au #abby x reader smut #abby anderson smut #abby x you #abby anderson fan fiction #chubby queer reader #chubby reader #chubby wlw reader

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icyg4l · 5 days

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PAC: What Can You Do to Pass Your Finals?

Hello beautiful people! It is about that time of the year again where us students are struggling to meet deadlines & have to study for the dreadful finals. Well, I’m here to give you all some tips on how to pass your final exams this season. I will be using my True Heart tarot deck for this reading per usual. If you resonate with this reading enough to want to book with me, please read my guidelines and dm me for a reading! Without further ado, please select your academic weapon!

Left-to-Right: Pile 1-3 (Elle Woods, Dionne Davenport, Jade the Brat)

Pile 1: I feel like this pile really needs to consider having a study buddy. That would help you tremendously. Doing things like going back and forth to repeat formulas, coming up with sufficient answers for mock trials and practicing for a foreign oral exam with another person can be some of the things that you do. Study dates are absolutely necessary. I feel like you also need to change the scenery. Go somewhere that you’ve never been before, particularly near a body of water. And another thing that you can do to help you achieve academic success is chewing gum while you study. It’s scientifically proven that chewing gum can improve your memory & can boost your test scores (only if you put the effort in though beforehand lmao).

Cards Used: Death, 7 of Cups, Princess of Cups, Knight of Cups.

extras: being by the water. trees. hair twirler. fidget spinner.

Pile Two: I think the best thing that you can do is ask for assistance directly from the source. I feel like this is specifically for those who are struggling in their math or science classes. I get the feeling that you don’t want to take this class ever again. So, you need to get situated and fast. I feel like this pile may be going through a separation/breakup from their partner. It may be affecting your ability to focus on school. But it is best that you not only seek academic guidance from the source, explain your situation to them so that they can understand what you’re going through. They may direct you to some mental help. I feel like another thing that you could do is practice grounding exercises. Surround yourself in nature. Go bicycling or hiking. Go to a conservatory. Lastly, another thing you could do is go for a swim. I feel like you need to get moving. You need to get physical before/while you’re getting ready to study.

Cards Used: 7 of Cups, 9 of Discs, 2 of Cups, Judgment, Queen of Cups, 5 of Cups, Page of Cups.

extras: pull ups. heartburn. feeling helpless. “unusual.”

Pile Three: This pile feels very extreme. It’s a crucial moment in your academic career that could either make or break you, it seems. I think that this finals season determines whether or not you will have to go to summer school or whether you will get into that school. Maybe even going to the next grade or having to retake that particular class. So, you have to buckle in. I am seeing someone crack their knuckles and stretch out their neck. I don’t get the feeling that this is a traditional final. It could be a project or a paper that’s graded harshly. It could also be a collaboration. Whatever it is, I feel like your mother figure could help you a lot with this. She knows more about this subject than you think. Allow her to help. Another thing that can help you is reaching out to people who have done the same project as you in previous years or the semester prior. And lastly, take really good notes from people who are well-versed in this subject. They will come in handy & you won’t regret that you did it.

Cards Used: The Tower, 10 of Discs, The Lovers, The Moon, The Empress.

extras: “it’s gametime.” “appealing.” sweaty hands. marnie. beats headphones. deep breath in & out.

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wisteria-blooms · 27 days

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (10/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT THE BOTTOM! (Let me know if you'd like to be added or if I've missed you!) A/N: I might have a cold coming on, ugh. Thought I'd get this out if I'm afflicted by illness AGAIN. And apologies in advance if there are mistakes I missed while reading it over! Feel free to let me know about them + what you think about the story!

CHAPTER 10 : What goes up must come down. Your relationship with Charlie is no exception. (5.6k words)

CHAPTER 10: YOU DON'T OWN ME

“What happened?”

Your voice was pitchy and stricken with worry. Your eyes urgently implored Charlie to provide a reason for his concern as if it was more important for you to hear than it was to him. You’d never seen Charlie in this state, though you supposed you’d barely been around for two months of his life, and no important moments at that.

Charlie read: “Fleur’s in labour. Come when you can. Love, mum.”

“You got it, Charlie.” Stan obeyed by performing the sharpest u-turn known to mankind, on the narrowest road known to mankind. The force flung your body towards the windows this time but Charlie effortlessly caught you by the wrist. When you recovered from another near-death incident with the metal insides of Knight Bus, Charlie’s words sunk in.

“Charlie!” you exclaimed.

“(Y/N)!” he returned with equal excitement, blue eyes widening.

You got back on your knees, bone meeting the plush covers of the bed, found a stable moment in Stan’s driving, and clapped your hands together giddily. “You’re going to be an uncle!”

The moment—half past midnight—you entered the obstetrics wing of St. Mungos was precisely the moment you asked yourself: why were you here? Why had you followed Charlie here? It felt natural to drunkly stumble out of Stan’s bus with Charlie to help him find his way to the right wing, but when Bill (who was standing by a water fountain) came into view, you felt like you had intruded on a personal moment.

”Shit, Bill, I’m sorry,” Charlie apologized as he strode into the waiting area. Your nervous gait reflected in the windows, the colours of your long skirt spilling on the black skies outside, brightened only with a speckling of stars. You left a considerable amount of space between Charlie and yourself, not wanting Bill to perceive your being here as impolite. You hoped the green chairs would provide enough coverage if you stood behind them.

“This was precisely the reason I told you I couldn’t make the concert,” Bill explained, pulling Charlie into a hug. The hug was long. Bill made eye contact with you as he released Charlie.

“How was the concert?” Bill asked, looking at you.

“It was excellent,” you said. “We got—Charlie got Molly’s letter at the end of it.” You hoped this would absolve you of your uninvited presence.

”Well, thank you for taking my place,” Bill said with a smile. “Charlie was never going to let me live it down.”

”(Y/N) was better company, anyway,” Charlie scoffed. “And easier on the eyes.”

“Of course she is,” Bill agreed, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

“You wound me, Bill,” Charlie protested, holding his side.

Bill smirked. “You know what wounds me? The fact you missed the birth of your niece and almost made me miss it, too.”

“What are you boys bickering about now?” Molly chided, stepping out of the room. Her hair was frazzled, the bulk of it pulled back into a bun. She appeared more stressed than the nurses walking out the room before her. Her expression softened immediately at the sight of her second eldest son. “Charlie! You’re here.”

“Of course, mum.” Charlie walked over to give his mother a hug, his body towering over hers.

“Come meet Victoire. The others will come tomorrow to give Fleur some breathing room.” Then, Molly noticed you. Your grasp on the green leather chair tightened and your chest strained anxiously at the same. “(Y/N),” she called out sweetly. “Would you like to come, too?”

“Oh, no, I can wait here,” you said, sliding over to sit on a chair. “Please, take as long as you need.”

“Alright, then,” Molly said. She placed a hand on both Charlie and Bill’s backs and guided them back into the delivery room.

You exhaled heavily when they left. A pounding tension still lingered in your jaw; you were so embarrassed. You should’ve waited downstairs in the lobby instead of following Charlie upstairs. You were certain that as nice as Molly was, she was going to talk about your gaffe with her neighbours over tea: her perfect son’s only-remarkable-because-of-what-her-last-name-affords-her girlfriend invited herself to meet her first grandchild. And can you believe she might’ve been drinking prior to it? Ruined the occasion. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. Next time, you’d think things through.

“Don’t drop her!” a shrill voice, muted by the door, rang out.

You looked up.

“I promise I won’t, mum! Now, calm down. Not even Fleur is worried,” came the response. Definitely Charlie.

“He did a decent job holding onto the snitch back in school.” That was Bill.

Then, a delicate little laugh complemented by Bill’s deeper one.

“See, mum, nothing to fret over. She’s perfectly happy in her uncle’s arms.”

Your mind crafted an image of Charlie holding the newborn in his arms. There was a tender look in his blue eyes as he cradled something so delicate and precious. You felt the look of love through your vision and for a moment, the weight on your chest lifted.

Every single detail of the night of the concert lingered in your mind for the next couple of days. You replayed each segment in your mind. Charlie taking you to pub and meeting Don. Charlie’s show of some emotion—jealousy?—and the touch of his hand on your hip in front of Alex. The moment in Stan’s bus, and had it not been for that owl, something might’ve happened. A confession, a kiss… you would’ve been pleased with either outcome. But you sung high praises for that aforementioned owl; it led to you being able to witness him being there for his niece’s first moments. You reckoned you handled it perfectly well, passing yourself off as a supportive partner rather than a nosy one.

Feelings of infatuation overwhelmed you as you tried to scrub them away at the dirt-speckled skin of a potato. It was Monday evening and you were running high on the fumes of adrenaline. You’d decided to expel that energy by trying your hand in the kitchen. A recipe for leek and potato soup caught your eye and it seemed easy enough. You figured Charlie might appreciate it too, given how he’d made fun of there not being a meal ready for him previously. He said he’d be back this evening, and you were going to be ready for it this time. You even pulled down two wine glasses in anticipation.

You nearly nicked your finger with the peeler when you heard keys in the front door. You drew in a deep breath and extended your hands over the top of your head to smooth out any flyaways. But really, did the rugged, sun-kissed, outdoor-prone Charlie Weasley care about how your hair looked? Before you could answer, Charlie walked in with a small duffel bag slung over his shoulders. His hair was dishevelled, his cheeks rosy, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin.

Your heart nearly gave out at the sight. Heavens, he looked even more handsome like this.

“Letter for you, (Y/N),” was Charlie’s greeting.

”Thank you,” you said. “Just set it down on the table there, if you don’t mind.” “Where’ve you been?” you asked, trying to keep your eagerness to a minimum.

Charlie closed the door behind him. “I took up Mallory’s offer of Quidditch.”

Oh.

Your smile dropped but you prayed that Charlie didn’t see it.

Something more bitter and darker washed out the sweet taste in your mouth. “How was it?”

”Great!” Charlie replied cheerily. “Reminded me of old times.”

You didn’t dare ask what those old times consisted of. Treacherous images of post-celebratory locker room make-outs and late-night “practice” sessions came to mind.

“I got around to chatting with her brother, Marcus,” Charlie added. “ When I wasn’t being tackled down to the ground or gasping for breath, at least. I forgot how well-connected he was to all the Ministry departments.”

More treacherous images flooded your mind. Charlie. Entangled with Mallory. On the field. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, stellar guy. I reckon I should keep in touch with him.” Charlie shedded his bag and his jacket. ”What are you making? It smells good.”

You beamed at his question. “I figured I’d take one out of Millicent’s book, seeing both you and I are such fans now.”

Charlie sucked some air through his teeth. “Bad night for me to grab dinner with old classmates, huh?”

“Oh, not at all,” you waved Charlie’s sentence off with a shake of your head. You shuffled slightly over to your left to conceal the second wine glass you’d pulled out. “There will be quite a bit left over, if you want it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” Charlie said. “I’m going to shower before I head out. Want to join?”

”No, I have dinner—” you stopped yourself, your peeler wedged in the crevice of a potato and refusing to budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Your chest felt strange, a strong ache casting shadows on where there was just so much joy. “I’ll see you afterwards.”

Charlie responded with a crooked smile and clamped his lips together like he was concealing a retort. You imagined it would’ve gone something like, ‘Ah, so you were thinking about joining me in the shower. How naughty of you, (Y/N).’

Well, no kidding. What sane person would refuse an elusive chance to see Charlie shirtless? The longer you thought about it, the more you could taste the hot beads of water coating his hair, running down the nape of his neck, down his chest and into the ridges of his abs.

Your steam-ridden daydream was shot by you remembering of why he was in such desperate need of a shower.

His mention of Mallory and his dinner plans made you want to dump the contents of the soup—that you’d made a second time over because you’d burned the first batch—into the sink. You feared how much more Mallory could get under his skin when you weren’t around him. Trying to quell your building insecurities, you had to rationalize it and break it down for your own sanity. ‘Friends’ was a plural word; Charlie and Mallory weren’t going to be alone at dinner. Charlie loved Quidditch. Mallory loved Quidditch. You didn’t love Quidditch. It was easy for the thought of inviting you to slip his mind. Charlie clearly talked to Mallory’s brother, Marcus as well. And most importantly, Charlie wasn’t your boyfriend or some committed lover or a lover of any sort. That prohibited you from asking anything of him.

Besides, he was going to come home after…right?

You brushed off these thoughts as fanatical insinuations. Maybe you were going a little stir-crazy from Charlie’s flirting. When you heard the shower start, you slipped the extra wine glass back in its place and topped your own glass off. You needed it, because what else did Malfoys do when faced with trivial matters besides drinking them away? The dose was derived from observing your father: two glasses for a mild inconvenience, four for a moderate one, and the whole bottle for a considerable issue.

The situation at hand was pretty moderate, so four glasses it was.

In the reflection of the window, you saw your father’s eyes staring back at you. They held the same look of perturbance and wondering of why you should have to deal with any misfortune. You really were his daughter.

The effect of the alcohol cushioned the pain of Charlie leaving through the door. He looked well-combed and delectable and ready to slip right into Mallory’s arms. Or into her mouth. No, you scolded yourself, none of that nonsense. After a lonesome dinner, your fork scraping your teeth in contemplation more than scraping the bowl, you sorted the leftovers into containers. You had your bath and went straight to bed.

Sleep that night was not only futile, it was wishful thinking. You tossed and turned. When you turned the light on again, both the hour and minute hand on your clock inched perilously close to two, meaning it was that late and Charlie still wasn’t back. He’d been gone for almost six hours.

You should’ve been asleep right now. You should’ve been fine right now. You shouldn’t be fretting over Charlie right now. So, why were you staring at the ceiling, a bruising feeling consuming your bones?

Before Charlie came into your life, you were trying to prove a point to your parents: you didn’t need a partner. And you’d always sworn you wouldn’t let the affections of a man change you; you preferred to operate independently. Now, you were absolutely sick over Charlie. Sometime in the past couple weeks, you’d gone from not really caring where he was to your mood beating to the sound of his drums. Merlin, you were a raging hypocrite.

The memories you had thought beautiful seemed so ugly now. His act of blowing off dinner in favour of hanging out with Mallory and her friends cheapened everything that happened over the weekend. And how was it fair that Charlie was free to spend his nights as he pleased, while the moment you engaged with Alex, he led you away? Wouldn’t it be preposterous if you showed up to the bar he was at right now and made a show by snatching him back in front of Mallory? If you did it, you’d look crazy. But when Charlie did it, it was chivalrous.

As you fluffed your pillow just to lay down again, you thought about your friend, Alicia Spinnet. She used to complain about the men she dated and the ways they cycled hot and cold. They were indecipherable, affectionate one day and gone the next. In the end, they wanted nothing more than a fling which led to numerous late-night conversations with her asking you where she’d gone wrong or if those men were really interested in the first place. The pain she felt was only punctuated when she saw them out with a real partner months later.

While you empathized with her by providing long hugs, ice-cream, and promises of getting petty revenge, you didn’t think yourself as so naive to find yourself in such a situation. You’d look for the signs, you’d know when to leave. But now, you felt so, so stupid.

Charlie Weasley was not different; he was exactly the type of men Alicia complained about. At this point, you weren’t even sad. You were angry and you didn’t know who to be angry with.

“You look like shit.”

You eked out a smile. “Thank you, Fred.”

You stopped by Cauco and Weasley Wizard Wheezes the next morning just before work. Neither place brought you much peace after what had happened with Charlie there, but Fred and George were the cure-all to any sort of pain. And the last time you trekked from Cauco to the shop, you hadn’t met Charlie yet, so maybe this would serve as some sort of spiritual reset.

You almost choked on your coffee order. You’d asked for the strongest drink as a feeble attempt to get through the day and you were served accurately. You peeled off the sleeve trying to ascertain how many shots of espresso were exactly in this concoction. Oh—was that a 3 or 8?

The delivery man finished stacking a boatload of parcels near the front and readied a slip in front of you. You counted the boxes and signed off on it for Fred and George who were busying themselves with opening duties. You thanked the worker as he left.

From there, you walked around the shop and gently rearranged some crooked products as a means to distract yourself. Charlie did get back last night, interrupting your very light sleep. You heard him brushing his teeth around 3 a.m. It was early enough to signify he didn’t spend the entire night in Mallory’s bed but late enough for the opportunity of an emotional and physical rekindling to occur. You slipped past him this morning as he slept in. You had no desire to ask him how last night went as your first conversation of the day.

You were confused. The burning desire to be by Charlie’s side flamed out so quickly after he’d mentioned Mallory. Was what you thought you felt even real, then?

“Want to do something this weekend?” you asked quickly.

“I always want to do something,” Fred was the first to respond. “But I figured your days were better spent on maintaining appearances with Charlie.”

“No,” you corrected quickly. “I think we’ve done well enough not to require anymore… appearances together.”

“It’s settled then,” Fred proclaimed. “Let’s hop a couple of bars and see where we end up.”

“(Y/N) will be on the floor,” George sang. “Just like before.”

You giggled at George’s lyricism as you propped up a Skiving Snackbox. “I will not!”

Talking and making plans with Fred and George always took a weight off your shoulders. You went home that night feeling ready for whatever punches and hooks life was going to throw at you. You, however, stalled when you arrived back to an empty apartment again. You walked down the hallway and into the kitchen where you stopped in front of the fridge. Curiously, you peeked in to find your leftovers untouched, and you felt your resolve falter for a moment. Did it taste bad? Or did Charlie have no need for it because he was sustained by something else?

You took a deep breath to ground yourself. You had to stop thinking about this for your own sanity. Charlie and Mallory could move out to the countryside and have their perfect, beautiful academically-gifted, athletic, curly-haired, bright-eyed babies. You swore you’d wish him well when that day came. Maybe you’d even send him a gift basket.

You were going to be fine.

You didn’t see Charlie until Friday evening after he’d arrived home from the train station. He intercepted you at the door just as you were about to leave for your night out.

“Hold up, (Y/N). What are you doing next week?” Charlie asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You felt as if you’d been punched in the gut. He looked so good.

Composing yourself, you said: “You’re going to have to be more precise.”

“End of the workweek?” Charlie tried again.

“I’ll be working.”

“Can’t take the time off?”

“I can’t afford to anymore.”

Charlie frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

You put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I don’t have years worth of vacation banked up like you.”

“What about the weekend?”

“I’ll have plans.”

“They’re more important than me?”

“Maybe.”

“I like this new side of you, (Y/N),” Charlie remarked with a smirk. The same smirk that would’ve sent a heart-stopping shockwave through your body last week and left you dreaming the whole night. “I didn’t know you could tease like that.”

You now felt nothing but annoyance. Charlie obviously didn’t care enough to ask who your friends were or why you were blowing him off like this.

“Thank you, Charlie,” you said amicably. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you slipped out from the gap underneath his arm and hurried to the lift.

Fred and George were more than ready to go when you joined them on the main floor of their shop. It was pitch-black outside and the shop was long closed, but they’d left a side door open for you. George already had a potent shot prepared for you which you happily accepted.

“To another one of (Y/N)’s successful schemes!” proclaimed George as he clinked glasses with you and Fred. You threw back the shot with the boys.

“What was the scheme again?” Fred set his glass down and exhaled in pleasure. “That’s some good stuff.”

”I think it was to throw her bloodhound parents off her scent,” George said. “By using Charlie.”

“Or to seduce our brother.”

George nodded. “We may never know (Y/N)’s true intentions.”

“Hey!” you protested. “That was not the reason.”

“I don’t know,” George tutted. “You seem to rather fancy living with him.”

“He’s not a terrible roommate. I like that he doesn’t talk incessantly like some people. You know, by trying to fill in any quiet gap.”

It was Fred’s turn to protest. “Hey!”

“It’s true, though!” you laughed. “Charlie said you told him about our adventures in Care of Magical Creatures. Is that any detail you couldn’t have spared?”

“Oh, of course,” Fred stated. “There isn’t a soul in the world who doesn’t know about your failed adventures.”

You went quiet. The rush of bantering with Fred and George was washing out into a muted anger. So, Fred did tell Charlie you’d failed. Your voice was low when you asked: “Is that how you described it? My failed adventures?”

Fred stroked his chin. “Something like that. Maybe not those exact words. I said it was interesting he’d spend so much time around someone the complete opposite of him.”

“No, I reckon those were the exact words you used,” George said with a laugh. Neither men had picked up on the way your jaw tensed. “Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“How do you do reckon we’re the opposite?” you asked. You had to know.

Fred, still oblivious to the fact you were getting upset, answered honestly. “He’s a natural with beasts and creatures. You’ve no instinct for them—”

“And Quidditch, and the opposite sex,” George added. “Amongst other things.”

If this conversation had occurred on any other day, you would’ve belly-laughed yourself into the ground; you knew your faults. But today wasn’t any other day. You still had unresolved pain to contend with. Your mind instantly jumped back to Charlie and Mallory. Mallory was probably great at handling creatures and Quidditch, and if she had Charlie in the bag, then she was great with the opposite sex.

“Is there anything you can’t keep to yourself?” you snapped. Fred finally picked up on your cues, your question slapping the grin off of his face. “Why do you have to hold the fact I failed that stupid elective over my head?”

“Whoa—what’s this about? You haven’t cared about this in 10 years.” Fred said in defence.

“What makes you think I don’t care? I don’t go around telling people what you’ve failed!”

“It’s just Charlie, (Y/N),” Fred rationalized. “He won’t hold it over your head.”

“I’m sorry, you mean the Charlie whom I’ve barely met until this September?” You inched closer to Fred. You wanted to hammer the point home, make him feel sorry for the first time in his life. “How about you give someone a chance to meet me before you give them an opinion of me?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), really,” George stepped in against your wishes, “He’s our brother, we know him. He really doesn’t care.”

You wanted to scream. “Why do you think it’s just about Charlie?” But it was, it really was. “It’s about how you treat me in front of other people. Do you find it so humorous to take jabs at me?”

“Of course not!” Fred responded hastily, genuine worry in his eyes. “(Y/N), let me—”

You pounded the table with your palm. “Just forget it!”

The shot glasses rattled. Fred took a step back.

George’s eyebrows furrowed. “(Y/N), let Fred—”

You threw your arms up in the air, exasperated. “Why don’t you talk to me when you’re ready to apologize?”

You grabbed your coat and stomped out of the shop and out onto the cold, cobbled street. The door swung shut behind you and blocked out any last apologies if any were to be had. You waited for a couple seconds. Fred didn’t bother to follow you out. Of course he wouldn’t. And you weren’t going to look back to confirm it.

Diagon Alley was afflicted with wintry darkness and a nippy front. It only got worse as you walked on, your face battered by headwinds. The cold winds stung your cheeks and froze the tears that had begun forming in your eyes. Not only was your friendship with Charlie deteriorating right in front of you, but you were letting how you felt about him dictate your feelings towards other people: Fred who unwaveringly had your back, and George who was just trying to help. You lost both of them in the span of one night and it was all your fault.

As much as you tried to shake off your last name, you were a Malfoy through and through. Pleasant when people served your purpose, cold when you got what you wanted. You deserved to be standing here, shivering as you walked down the street with no one rushing up to put an arm or coat around you.

Now where were you going to go? You couldn’t find refuge within your family. Hadn’t you worn down your relationship with them because of Charlie, too? You couldn’t go back to the shop with Fred and George—you were sure they resented you. You couldn’t go back to your apartment. But why even consider that? Charlie was probably taking advantage of your outing to escape under the covers with Mallory.

And Charlie, oh, Charlie. If he wasn’t going to like you because of your poor handling of magical creatures, then he certainly wasn’t going to like you after the way you treated his brothers—his family. You kicked up a patch of dirt in anger and let the loose soil splay over your stockings.

The thought of being alone and the pain shooting up your toe released the tears you’d been holding back. Once you started, you couldn’t stop. The salty stream trickled down your skin until they caught on the corners of your lips. You pulled your scarf upwards to mute the sob working its way up to your throat. And much like your tears, once the cries started, you couldn’t stop.

You woke the next morning with a strong ache in your back and a pounding headache. Your lips were chapped, glued in certain spots from the lack of water. You pushed yourself off the scratchy pillowcase, your movement stirring a creak in the bed. The cloth that wrapped around the lamp beside you was mottled, and the gold paint scratched away to reveal the harsh grey base layer.

Your sense of hearing came back when the pounding of your head retreated, but it was only to make way for the thudding of bodies and moans spilling out on the other side of the thin wall. Your sense of smell came alive next, picking up on the smell of bacon grease wafting upwards through the floorboards. As if you couldn’t feel sicker.

How the mighty (Y/N) Malfoy had fallen, you thought as you scrunched up the starchy bedsheets. From her canopy bed in her mansion to a paper-thin mattress in a sketchy motel she checked herself into because she had nowhere else to go.

In the washroom, you did your best to comb out your hair with your fingers and wipe off the smudged makeup from under your eyes. You’d figure out the wrinkled clothing later on. At the very least, your topcoat would conceal the fact you slept in last night’s clothes. When you deemed yourself presentable, you walked onto the street and turned towards a different coffee shop.

A rush of blonde hair suddenly obfuscated your peripheral vision. You stumbled from the impact of two girls grazing your sides. You looked up in confusion at what had just happened.

“Girls, come back here,” a stern voice called out.

The two girls turned back but caught your eyes first.

“(Y/N)?” the taller one called out.

Okay, now you were even more confused. “Clara?”

“That’s me!” she said. Clara ran over and threw herself in your arms. Still in a state of shock, you returned the hug.

If this was Clara, then there was only one possibility as to who the other girl was. “Hello, Charlotte,” you greeted. Charlotte came sprinting over in a frenzy and enveloped you from the side.

You never understood how Clara and Charlotte weren’t twins. They had a whole two years of genetic possibilities separating them, but they still maintained so much likeliness. It was as if Aunt Rosamund and your Uncle Leon copied and imprinted preset genes into their offspring. They both had Aunt Rosamund’s platinum blonde hair though wispier and wavier. They were both small and nimble, fairy-like in their stature. It was impossible to detach either girl from their love of reading fantasy and romance novels. You supposed childish wonder helped preserve their everlasting youth.

Given that Clara and Charlotte were here, it could only mean one thing. The woman who’d called for them was none other than—

You turned around. “Hello, Aunt Rosamund.”

Aunt Rosamund quirked a pointed eyebrow at you, her inquisitive green eyes sweeping you up and down. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her silver hoop earrings perfectly complemented her white suit and cloak. She twisted her mouth which pulled her cheekbones—looking so much like her older brother, Lucius, in the process—meaning she was ready to pass judgement. You braced yourself.

”Goodness, you look terrible, (Y/N). Did you sleep on the streets yesterday?”

Ouch. Well, at least it wasn’t your Uncle Theo. Things could be worse.

“I had a long night. It’s been busy at work,” you responded.

“You may benefit from a de-puffing potion,” Aunt Rosamund continued, now staring into your eyes. “I have a contact in Luxembourg who is the Chief of Operations at a cosmetic company that carries simply the best line of anti-aging products. I’ll set an appointment up for you.”

You touched your face, fingers grazing swells of your eyelids from all the crying you did last night. “Oh, this is temporary. It’ll fade.”

“Hm,” Aunt Rosamund said, half-believing you as she pressed her red lips together.

“She doesn’t look like a vagabond, mother. I like it. It’s rather bohemian,” Charlotte commented sweetly as she smoothed out your topcoat for you. “And (Y/N) looks even more youthful with her puffy eyes.” Alright, bohemian and youthful—you’d take it.

“So, what are you girls doing here?” you asked, trying to move the limelight away from your appearance.

“We wanted to see Christmas in London!” Charlotte piped up.

Clara sighed wistfully. “There’s a certain sense of romance that lingers in the air here that you can’t find anywhere else.”

You were gobsmacked. These girls had the entirety of Europe in their little hands and they wanted to see Christmas here? “Really?“

“You should know, (Y/N)! You live here,” Charlotte harped.

Even more puzzled, you stated: “It’s only November.”

Charlotte took your hand. “Sure, but we have to be back in Switzerland in December. And I can’t wait for you to visit us then.”

You squeezed her palm affectionately. “Me neither.”

”Come on, girls,” Aunt Rosamund called. “We have to be on our way to brunch. You can discuss your plans with (Y/N) when we arrive at your uncle Lucius’s at noon.”

“See you later, (Y/N)!” Charlotte said, giving you one last hug, before running off to her mother.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” Clara repeated.

As the three ladies ambled on, you stood there motionless, wondering what the hell you had missed.

Charlie was on the couch when you ran into your apartment. You huffed as you shut the door, having sprinted here to make the best of the hour you were given before you had to be back at the Manor.

“Hey,” was the first thing out of Charlie’s mouth when he saw you. Were your eyes betraying you, or did he genuinely look concerned? “Where were you last night?”

“Uhm,” you stammered, his question really wedging you in between a rock and a hard place. Should you lie or lie? You didn’t feel like divulging about the night you spent crying in a dirt-cheap inn. “With Fred and George.”

Charlie’s shoulders released in relief. “That’s good. I was a little concerned when you didn’t come home.”

Well, didn’t that make two of you?

“I’m going to freshen up. I have family visiting today.”

Charlie perked up. Begrudgingly, you attempted to read him. Was he excited that you were going to be gone? Your absence would surely afford him more opportunities with Mallory.

“Which side?” he asked. “Mum, dad?”

“My father’s.”

“Is it your Uncle Theo or Aunt Rosamund?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You remember?”

“I couldn’t forget your fantastic descriptions. So, who is it?”

“My Aunt Rosamund.”

“Do you need me to accompany you?”

Sharply, you said: “No.”

“Alright then,” Charlie said, falling back on the couch. “Don’t forget about me.”

“I’ll try my best, Charlie, no promises.”

You opened the door to your room and rummaged through the closet for an outfit that wouldn’t suffer the scrutiny of Aunt Rosamund. You heard the thud of footsteps drawing closer and stopped.

“Before you go, (Y/N), can you think over one thing for me?” Charlie asked.

You almost laughed when you spun around. Charlie’s head looked like it was decapitated and hanging from the way he positioned himself at the door. “Depends on what it is.”

“Is there any Thursday and Friday you could take off?”

You frowned.

Like how Alicia’s stories usually went, this was the part where the guy (Charlie) would try to win your affections back after realising you’d turned cold. Shower you with praise and compliments and his undivided attention. Charlie was about to feed and rescue you from the famine he started. And when you thought you were safe in his arms, he was sure to starve you for good.

You weren’t going to let that happen. You weren’t going to be a crumpled mess on the floor again.

“Sure,” you said coolly. “I’ll think about it.”

However deflated you sounded, it didn’t impact Charlie in the slightest. He looked as gleeful as the day he’d gotten his Hogwarts acceptance letter. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

You placed a hand on your hip, willing to humour him one last time. “Alright, why, Charlie?”

When the response spilled from Charlie’s lips, you realised you had no playbook to navigate the question he’d just posed.

>> NEXT CHAPTER (COMING SOON)!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

@badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan @morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire

#charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you

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the-froschamethyst4 · 9 months

Text

Knight in Shining Black Armor

𖤐Pairing: Ghost x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, fantasy, fairy tale, p n v, language, overstimulating, praising, rough sex, pussy playing, eating out, semi-fingering, Knight Ghost and Princess Y/n

Princess Y/n is stuck in a tower waiting for her Knight in shining armor to come and save her

The Knight who does will get to marry the lovely Princess and many Knights have tried

That is until one man manages to kill the dragon that was protecting Y/n and he gets to marry her

——————

———————

Like every day. Princess Y/n looks out of her tower looking at the sun come up, she was always up before dawn, she wanted to get up early in case her Prince or Knight shows up to rescue her.

As she watched the sun come up she also heard the loud dragon below her roar to let his presents known. Y/n ducked into her room as she watched the dragon fly pass her window and fly around her tower.

“Stupid dragon,” she mumbled.

Y/n pulled back a purple velvet cover showing off a painting she’s been doing since she’s been stuck in this hell hole.

She gathered all her paints and started to mix her paints for a perfect green and blue. It was a landscape of the area that surrounded her tower.

She put her paintbrush is her mouth so she could put her long hair into a high ponytail. She took the paintbrush out of her mouth and dipped it in her paints ready to paint the landscape.

———————

“Hey Ghost,” Soap a Knight said. He came trotting next to Ghost on his horse.

“What,” Ghost groaned.

“Wanna make a bet?”

“With you, fuck no,” Ghost said as he trotting his horse to the gate of the castle.

“Come on, Ghost. It’s a simple bet.”

“No, Soap.”

“Come on, don’t you wanna know you might win?”

“I know what I’ll win, marriage with the Princess.”

“If we find her,” Captain Price the head Knight interrupted the two bickering Knights. “And remind you, it’s who finds her first, so I could find her, Soap could find her and you Ghost could her, anyone can marry her,” Price rolled her eyes.

“Men…find my daughter and…good luck…you have a month,” The King released the Knights and they all took off into the Dark Forest to look for Princess Y/n.

———————

“Hmmmm~? It needs…” Y/n tapped her chin with her painted hand thinking about what she is missing in the painting. It still wasn’t completed or anything, it just feels like something off.

She stepped to her window seeing that she should be in the painting. She looked back and was trying to see how to incorporate herself into it.

She stepped close to it and started the outline of her piece.

——————

The Knights all split up to look for the Princess. Ghost and his horse were far West away from everyone, he knew some will not even come this way to look for her.

He was getting hot and started to look for a spot to get water for them to drink and for them to swim in just a little bit.

He soon found a spot and let his horse drink from the lake and Ghost splashed his face to cool himself up. He removed his armor on his arms and splashed his arms as well.

ROAR

The loud roar of the dragon guarding the Princess startled both Ghost and his horse. His horse ran away leaving Ghost to now fend for himself to look for the Princess.

“Great…now this is going to take me forever,” Ghost groaned as he put his armor back on.

“But at least…I’m close…” he mumbled to himself as he moved forward and got his sword ready for anything and to cut tree limbs, overgrown bushes and leaves.

——————

Y/n let out a bored yawn after doing her outline. The dragon did startle her with the loud roaring but she was use to it.

The dragon rested on a large rock next to the lake. Y/n hasn’t left the tower since she was 12 years old before she was placed here.

She sat in her window bored, rolling her paintbrush between her fingers tips. She knew she was a mess with paint all over her body.

She jumped from her windowseal and went to her bathroom and ran a hot shower. She removed her dirty clothes and got in the shower, she let out a soft moan as the hot water hit her skin.

She ran her hands down her body till they reached her clit. She gently rubbed and pushed 2 fingers inside of herself. She stumbled to her shower wall and leaned against it to keep herself stabled, she kept moving her fingers in and out of her quickly. She loved the feeling of do it herself, but she would like if someone else...did it to her.

She felt her body feel that knot in the stomach, she felt herself leak onto her fingers, but she didn't stop she pushed a third finger in, she moaned at the top of her lungs when she was able to fit three fingers in, usually she can only do two and give up afterwards.

Y/n kept pushing her fingers in and out quickly, her hands clenched into a fist as that same knot feeling was in her stomach and she came again. She pulled them out and felt the white liquid leak down both of her legs.

"Hmmm~ god..." she mumbled as she started to clean herself up.

--------

Ghost felt lost. He felt like he's been going in circles, he's pretty sure he might have gone passed the same tree 4 different times. How he knows is because he marked it and went on ahead and saw it again.

He placed his hands through his hair and leaned against a wall covered in vines and branches. He wiped his sweaty forehead but before he was about to stand up, he fell through the wall.

"Ah! What the fuck?" Ghost groaned, rubbing his head and looking back to see where he was now. He stood up quickly and walked farther into what seemed some...beautiful area (Ever seen Rapunzel? Where her tower is, that's what I'm talking about).

Flowers covered the ground, some tall green grass, a large lake with a waterfall falling from the huge rocks and...a tower. Ghost looked up the tower seeing how tall it was.

"I found her..." he mumbled to himself.

Huff...Huff...Huff...Huff...

Ghost slowly turned and saw the dragon peacefully sleeping right behind him. The dragon didn't realize that there was a Knight here to save the Princess.

Y/n wrapped a towel around her waist and soon dropped it to put on one of her dresses. She now walked around her tower to do something else. She grabbed a book and went by her window ready to read.

"No one will ever come..." she whispered to herself. She saw the dragon sleeping and some of the tall green moving.

"Huh? What the hell, is that?" Y/n asked herself. She couldn't see if it was a person or a really big animal. She watched the grass move and soon someone stood up.

Her jaw dropped and ducked into the tower. "Please don't wake up dragon, please don't, please don't, please don't," Y/n repeated.

Y/n was looking for something to help the Knight get up the tower with no problem.

"Come on, there has to be rope somewhere," she said, looking around.

Ghost was being sneaky and trying to not wake the giant dragon. Ghost stood up in the green, he was almost there to the tower, he continued walking to the tower trying not to step on sticks.

He looked up at the tower and he touched the brick thinking he might be dreaming about the tower being right in front of him.

"I...I did it..." Ghost whispered to himself; question is how is he going to get up there without the dragon hearing him. He placed his fingers in the crooks of the brick and tried to pull himself up, but his armor was weighing himself down.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Come on, Ghost think..." He looked up the tower seeing the wooden window, he grabbed his bow, his rope and an arrow.

He tied the rope to the arrow; he placed the arrow in the bow ready to fire. He shot up (don't ever do that btw) to the wood, he shot it up and waited for it to stick in the wood.

Y/n heard the thud from the arrow landing in the wood of the window, she looked and saw it was him.

Ghost pulled on the arrow to make sure it was in the wood, he jumped on the rope and pulled himself up.

"What do I do?" Y/n asked herself. She went to her room and just waited till she could hear him inside the tower.

"Almost there Princess," Ghost grumbles as he went up.

Y/n played with her fingers thinking what to do, what to say, what to tell him. She just waited, she heard him at the window huffing and puffing from the climb.

"Jeez, am I that out of shape?" Ghost asked himself. He looked around the room trying to find Princess Y/n.

"How did you get pass the dragon, Knight?" Y/n came out of her room, standing at the top of the staircase looking down at Ghost. Ghost's jaw dropped looking at the beautiful Princess. Ghost fell on his right knee, hand on his heart.

"I am glad, I have found you, my Princess. Your father had sent me and a team to find you, he gave us a month to find you and I have found you on my own. I did not slay the dragon, the dragon is asleep and has not noticed me here, either. I was trained to be the quietest Knight and I was, and I have found you, my Princess." Ghost looked up at the Princess.

"I see...now...Knight-"

"Please, Princess, call me Ghost."

"Ghost alright. What do we do now?"

"I marry you, Princess," Ghost said, he stood up and watched the Princess walk down the stairs till she got to him. She smiled up at Ghost. She placed her hands on his chest, she touched his shiny black armor.

"Okay...please, take me to my father."

"I will, Princess...but...first." Ghost placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her face close and kissed her lips so carefully and gently. His eyes were closed, and Y/n just melted into his touch.

"Princess...shall I...make you feel good?" Ghost asked.

"How?" She asked. She was so innocent (besides the touching herself earlier). Ghost smirked and licked the corner of his mouth with a smirk on his face as well.

Ghost picked Y/n up, pushing her against the wall of her tower, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck as well. His lips landed on hers again, her hand ran through his blonde hair.

His tongue pushed its way into her mouth, she lightly moaned into his mouth, his hands roamed from her thighs to her butt, gently squeezing it making her moan too.

Ghost then started to walk to the Y/n's bedroom, he pulled away from her to watch where he was going, Y/n looked over his shoulder nervous, what does she do?

Ghost dropped Y/n on her bed, Ghost started to take his armor off, and Y/n tried to remove her dress, but Ghost did it by pulling the fabric ripping it.

"Jeez..."

"What?"

"You look...beautiful..." he said, kissing her neck. Y/n's hands went up from his neck into his hair. His lips then led up to her lips. Ghost stood up and looked down at his dick close to her clit.

She was breathing heavy watching Ghost slowly move down. His face right in front of her clit. She was starting to get nervous. He licked his lips and kissed her inner thigh; she moaned loving his lips on her.

Ghost then kissed her lips, his tongue licked in between her folds. He smirked and flicked his tongue against her lips. She covered her mouth and moaned into her hand, but she soon moved it and grabbed Ghost's hair.

Ghost then pushed his middle and ring finger inside of her clit, he moved them in and out fast and his tongue flicking between her folds.

"AHHH! AHHH!" She moaned, covering her mouth. His mouth soon pulled away and he just shoved his fingers in and out. "H-Holy," Y/n moaned.

He pulled his fingers out and watched how her body looked like it deflated. Her back was arched but now was against the mattress of the bed. Ghost smirked and then smacked Y/n's pussy lightly with his palm.

"AH!" Y/n moaned. He did it over and over earning those soft light moans from Y/n's voice.

"AH! AH! P-Please...don't...s-stopAH!" She moaned making him smirk.

Ghost shoved his fingers back inside and by distracting Y/n he pushed his dick inside of her clit. He started to thrust and soon pulled his fingers out; he licked them clean and placed his hands on the mattress next to Y/n's head.

"Ahhh~ ahhh~ G-Ghost..."

Ghost looked down at him and smirked, he bent down and kissed her neck then her lips, her hands cupped his face deepening the kiss. His hand grabbed her chin controlling her how to kiss properly.

"I-I'm s-sorry."

"Why?" He said as he thrusted.

"B-BecauseAHH! I d-don't know...h-how to...k-kiss."

"Don't worry about that, Princess...you're doing amazing..." Ghost panted. "Holy fuck...you are amazing," he repeated to her.

Y/n wanted this, she wanted her Knight or Prince to treat her right and that is what Ghost was doing, he was being gentle but would pick up the pace at certain times.

Y/n liked the roughness and Ghost could tell, so Ghost went with that, he stayed at a fast and rough pace. He loved the expression on her face and loved hearing the moans from the Princess.

"G-Ghost."

"I know, Princess, I know, come on, come on, come on," he repeated, she felt the knot in her stomach and felt herself cum. Ghost pulled out and watched himself pump onto her stomach.

"Holy fuck," Ghost said. Y/n gripped the bedsheet, her hair a mess and she had cum on her legs and stomach. Ghost just smirked looking down at her.

"I can't believe...that I'll be married to a beautiful Princess," Ghost cupped her face and kissed her lips.

"And I can't believe, I'll be with someone who loves me," she smiled.

--------

Night rolled around and Ghost was stuck in the tower with Princess Y/n. Y/n was asleep next to him, both of their bodies naked and covered with a sheet from her bed.

Ghost moved a piece of her hair from her face and kissed her soft lips. She stirred in her sleep and Ghost watched her ready for her to open her eyes, but she stayed asleep.

"You look amazing, you were amazing, and...I can't wait to love you for the rest of my life," Ghost mumbled against her temple and kissed her before going to sleep.

--------

The next morning, Ghost and Y/n were trying to leave but the dragon was the only obstacle in their way.

"DRAGON! HERE BOY!" Y/n called him like a dog, and he landed on the tower, shaking the tower and Y/n and Ghost tried to keep balance.

"Woah!" Y/n said as they tried to stay stable. "Okay, okay, calm down, listen boy, I need you to take me and Knight Ghost back to my Kingdom to see my father."

The dragon just titled his head and looked passed Y/n to see Ghost. The dragon's face was not entertained that a Knight got passed him.

"Come on, I know. Come on, help us out, please?" Y/n said.

The dragon just looked like he rolled his eyes and let Princess Y/n and Ghost get on hm and fly them to the Kingdom.

"THIS IS CRZY PRINCESS!!" Ghost yelled.

"YEAH, BUT I'M FINALLY FREE FROM THAT TOWER!!" Y/n yelled back. "WOOOOOOHOOOOOO~!" Y/n shouted.

"I'M GONNA DIE FROM FLIGHT!!" Ghost yelled as Y/n laughed.

The Kingdom was up ahead, and Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat nervous to face her father after 20 years. Ghost could tell she was nervous, his hand landed on her shoulder.

"It's okay, if anything happens...we could...make our own life in the tower far from everyone and you'll get to leave that place whenever you want," Ghost tried to make it sound more like a paradise than it actually was.

"Thank you, Ghost."

"Of course," The dragon landed in the middle of the castles garden, everyone in the castle came out to see the dragon and Ghost and Princess Y/n.

The King came out and saw his daughter and one of his best Knights arrive at the Kingdom. He smirked seeing his daughter after so long.

"My daughter," he says with his arms out and wanting a hug from his daughter. Y/n didn't hug him, her arms down by her side scared if she did hug him what might happen.

Ghost saw this and once the King was done hugging his daughter, Ghosts hand rested on her waist.

"Good job, Ghost for bring back my daughter to the Kingdom, now...the wedding, you've earned your right to marry my daughter, now...when would like to do the celebration?"

How not a 'how's my daughter?' 'I've missed you.' Nothing just 'when can I marry you off already.'

Y/n looked up at Ghost, he looked down at her and just gave her a small smile.

"We don't want a big celebration, we want to go back and live our life at that tower, she'll be under my watchful eye, she'll get to the tower when she wants to and will be taken care of by me...since...her father just thought she should be locked away for 20 years miserable, well...I will marry her but only for us to live away from this Kingdom and away from you...are terrible father and terrible King," Ghost spat.

The King was shocked by Ghost's sudden burst.

"You do not get to disrespect me."

"I can and I will," Ghost said as they got back on the dragon. The dragon took off heading back to the tower. Y/n felt hot tears in her eyes, she sniffled, and Ghost held her close to his body.

"I am so sorry, my Princess, that he would do that to you, his ONLY daughter, what a prick," Ghost grumbled.

"I-It's okay, G-Ghost...I just...wanna go home."

Never did Y/n think she'll ever call that tower home...but that's where she feels safe, is that place, it being protected by the dragon and her having wait for her lover, but now she gets to be with her lover.

#cod modern warfare #ghost cod #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #fanfic #fantasy #fandom

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