#so i’m not sure if it’ll resonate with others | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

msafterhours · 26 days

Text

Saccharine | Act Two

Male Reader x (G)I-DLE Yuqi

[Act 1] Act 2 (~14.7k words) [Act 3]

Note: this is not intended as a standalone story. If you haven’t already read Act One, I’d highly recommend doing so before reading further so that you don’t miss out on important context.

As the dawn of the final day of 2021 breaks over the horizon, you finish acquiring the answer to your earlier inquiry. Apparently, nothing awaits, as for the first time in a long while, swaths of darkness have been painted over your hours of slumber. It’s been a stark contrast, even compared to the mundane manifestations that have previously filled insignificant periods. Especially for a mind as active as yours, it’s become an unwelcome disruption to your expected existence, plunging you into a deep fatigue that you’ve been unable to shake. And to top it all off, another disruption awaits you upon awakening—this time landing squarely in your inbox.

ASong4You: I’m going to be with Soyeon the whole broadcast, so if we’re going to meet up again, it’ll have to be at or after the afterparty ASong4You: Should I look for you somewhere?

For as much as she dislikes being called cute, it’s honestly adorable how straight she’s playing this. As if it’s completely normal to have someone make you see stars upon the first time meeting them in person. But the truth of how rattled she is reveals itself in the vulnerability she’s exposed. So, you might as well pretend to play along. Somewhat.

TurnThePage: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s easy to find me at the afterparty TurnThePage: We’ll see how it goes from there

The read notification acts as enough of a response for you, and you close the app. Until a realization hits and you reopen it.

TurnThePage: Also bring me my fucking scarf

You see another read receipt and the beginnings of a message, but then, a pause. You immediately know; you can hear the laughter she’s undoubtedly doubled over with—the memory echoing in your mind clearer than the chirps of the birds outside your window.

ASong4You: Fuck no, this thing’s comfy as hell TurnThePage: THAT’S THE POINT ASong4You: Alright fine, but only if you ask nicely

You nearly do as she asks, but pride jumps in front of the word “please” in your mental dictionary and refuses to allow you access. So—just like you’ve always done—you pivot.

TurnThePage: What if I come gift wrapped with a little bow on top

This time, the memory echoes resonate through your mind long before your phone vibrates with a response. The clarity is borderline concerning, but you cast it aside as you return to her response.

ASong4You: Then you just might get me to do as you ask TurnThePage: I still don’t get why I have to do something to get my stuff back ASong4You: To be fair you never had to give me it in the first place TurnThePage: To be fair, they’re still there, aren’t they?

Read? Yes.

Replied to? Of course not. All you’re left with is a protracted silence that paints a picture worth a thousand words.

TurnThePage: You know what, maybe just keep it for now TurnThePage: You never know when you might need it, especially at this time of year … ASong4You: I swear to god I’m going to give you bruises that’ll make mine look like fingerprints in comparison TurnThePage: Wouldn’t want it any other way.

What a way to start the morning. Your routine passes by in a flash, leaving you facing a familiar screen and the unfamiliar dilemma of what to do with a few hours of free time. Your mind casts itself back to her earlier statement and her plans for the day, inspiring an idea that influences your plans for its remainder. While you may have professional obligations at this event, there’s no reason you can’t benefit from some personal profits along the way. So, you send a few quick emails that net quicker responses, and from there, you’re off to the races. You stockpile a selection of questions, feebly attempting to justify this personal project’s importance, and, a few hours later, you leave. Well ahead of schedule; just in case.

You arrive alone, head held high as you greet the familiar security staff who wave you right on by. This time, you're more selective in your choice of targets—more specific in the questions you ask them. You keep the conversations short, just barely long enough to glean the necessary information without claiming a spot amongst their memories of the night. No more than an hour passes before you know exactly where every performer will be and when they'll be there, affording you clarity on where you want to be and where you need to avoid.

Your efficiency is quickly rewarded as once again, even though you have hours until the broadcast goes live, the performers begin arriving in droves. With your opportunity fast approaching, you tap into the vast repository of knowledge you’ve gleaned over the past couple of years and make a few stops along the way towards your destination. Once your hands are full of items that you know idols tend to request during waiting periods—water, fans, phone chargers, etc.—you step into the waiting room reserved for an absolute all-star lineup of idols tonight.

One by one by two by one they arrive until ultimately you’re flanked by five. Some of the hottest faces in the industry—figuratively and literally—sit around the table with you, shining brighter than spotlights as you all share war stories and discuss the year in retrospect. Hwang Yeji, leader of ITZY, is happy to share about her members’ Christmas craziness and her own ambitious New Year’s resolutions. Kim Minju, Music Core host and alleged actress, shares about her particular difficulty facing the struggles that all the IZ*ONE members must be feeling post disbandment. An Yujin and Jang Wonyoung, maknaes of the aforementioned group and mega stars of their new one IVE, provide their own insights on the struggles and successes of the past year of their lives. But it’s the sixth member of the conversation you have the most questions for. Because Cho Miyeon is the one who sits alongside you as you ask her question after question about the time spent since she last stood under the spotlight seven months ago.

Under this pretense of an interview—some project about this year being the liberation from lockdowns and what it means to those with fans around the world—you foster familiarity and fondness in the hearts of these fellow aspirants, these industry peers that a fool might allow themselves to call “friends”. Your initial questions are precise, measured, and specifically aimed towards achieving one goal in particular: endearing yourself to the ally of your enemy before your date with the devil. Even as the performers come and go, changing outfits and patiently sitting until their perfect faces are painted enough to be “presentable”, you keep the conversation alive. At first, you keep the flame lit with convenient kindling, sharing stories you’ll happily let leave this room and asking questions you prepared well in advance. However, the group’s congregation precedes two hours of waiting for the broadcast to begin—and that’s not even mentioning the two or so more that’ll pass before they’re scheduled to go on stage. In an effort to hold back the darkness, your stories become less selective and secrets begin to slip past your lips amidst the sea of words pouring out from all involved. You respond to a question about how you choose the topics to write about, then add on an explanation of how you choose what not to write. From there, the conversation shifts, and Yeji ends up sharing a dream that’s been haunting her—one about love and loss and the end of life. You share your sympathies and nearly get far more specific about your own experiences before you catch yourself and course correct, leading the conversation elsewhere. The IVE duo puts forth quite the interesting tale of adapting to dorm life with their new quartet of members and the difficulties of rewriting their tendencies from living with the IZ*ONE members. Once again, you share a similar story and then a bit more, telling of your own shock when your editor had recently been fired and the difficulties of finding a suitable replacement. Not every thread of conversation ends up involving you, but many do, leaving you with an ever-shrinking suite of “safe” stories to share. It truly is a lovely interview. It's also the least important reason you're there.

You’re fascinated by how the conversation ebbs and flows, especially as Yeji leaves for her group’s performance and the IVE duo departs twice to do the same. It leaves you with further opportunity to inject a deeper sense of intimacy into the conversation, inviting the others to join you in confiding your concerns. Minju seems all too happy to oblige in one such moment, divulging to you and Miyeon the depths of her fears of irrelevancy in an industry so cutthroat—especially with a future so unclear. Before you can even begin to offer a response, Miyeon—someone who’s had no need to initiate a conversation due to the frequency of questions directed towards her—speaks up, sharing her own struggles in the aftermath of Soojin’s departure. You offer her the respect of absolute silence as she reassures Minju, revealing the significance of the impact losing only a single member had on her and empathizing with Minju’s struggles in facing a similar feeling but with such greater magnitude. It strikes you suddenly how precarious the platform of popularity must be for these rising stars to feel such fear in the face of the unknowns awaiting them on the other side of midnight. Once the magnitude of the moment has lessened, you offer what empty empathy you can before deciding on a more tangible course of action: deleting the recording, erasing the entirety of three hours of a potential transcript in an attempt to protect their privacy. Both immediately offer their genuine gratitude as they look to you with shock clearly visible in their eyes, refusing to allow you to diminish the significance even as you put forth a paltry attempt to brush it off with a claim that you can use some old recordings or something. Eventually, you all drop it and move on, even if they don’t share your reason for doing so. They never realize why you’re so willing to lie, why you couldn’t care less about the recording. Only you truly know that you’ll never be able to forget this conversation.

In hindsight, you'll find it funny how everything unfolded. Coming in, you intended to be memorable. You wanted to be likable. You needed Miyeon to smile upon hearing your name. In all aspects of your planning, you succeeded. You just never accounted for the effect she'd have on you.

The missing trio returns shortly after, and the conversation thankfully returns fully to simpler topics, allowing you a brief respite. You can’t help but let your posture slip as well, resting your head on the back of the couch as your body slumps to the side. It isn’t until you feel the couch shift slightly that you realize you’ve halved the distance between you and Miyeon, who seems to adjust her own position on the couch. But she doesn’t pull away. She moves closer … just slightly. Not enough to close the gap, but enough to tease the possibility. Even for you, someone so perfect at performing the part you need to play, it’s enticing—even more so when considering the events of the past week. With your current position atop the peak of anticipation, a strong breeze could be more than enough to unseat you, and instead there’s a raging storm of possibility seated less than a meter away from you, demanding you detour away from your current path. Somehow, you manage to resist your urges, reminding yourself you’ve come too far to divert from the opportunity at the end of the tunnel. As tempting of an unknown as Miyeon might be, you know you’ll never forgive yourself if you miss out on the opportunity to know her.

What is it about her that leaves you desperately investing time and effort into figuring it out?

How does she seem to have the most specific comments at the most opportune times?

Why the fuck is Song Yuqi the reason you can’t sleep at night?

Regardless, it ultimately matters little, as it’s minutes later when you rejoin the conversation and less than an hour before the quintet is called to get ready to perform. You stand as well, offering them thanks for their time and well-wishes for their performance before mirroring their hopes to see each other at the afterparty. Miyeon is the last to leave, reaching back to close the door and holding your eyes for two moments longer than you’d expect before shutting it and leaving you alone.

-x-

Roughly ten minutes later, their performance comes on the broadcast and you enjoy the f(x) homage before quickly tuning out upon its conclusion. With another two hours to go before the broadcast’s end and the subsequent mass exodus to the hotel hosting the afterparty, you concede to your fatigue and decide to rest your eyes. One set alarm later, the world around you fades and you drift off into the darkness. Upon your arrival in dreamland, you’re surprised at the darkness’ refusal to disperse, leaving you blind within an expanse of eruptions. On one side of you, you can hear the crashing of lightning as a thunderstorm rains down its wrath, while on the other, you can hear the crackle of flame as it spreads and ignites vast swathes of this obscured landscape. No matter where you try to look or turn, the dueling elements match your movements, perfectly mirroring one another as they come ever closer. Just as you’re about to melt under their might, you are quite literally saved by the bell as your alarm clock rouses you back into reality.

Only five minutes of the broadcast before the real party starts. Literally. You stand, stretch, then step out of the room riddled with remnants of secrets shared over the past six or so hours. Within the halls of the venue, you can hear the voices of the groups as they sing their final performance of 2021, leaving you alone among the staff and solo performers. Solo performers like Miyeon, whose gaze immediately captivates you as she confidently closes the distance.

“Hey you. How’s it going?”

“Doing good, kinda just still getting my bearings after waking up,” you answer, intentionally letting a yawn escape to sell the point. “What about you?”

“Well, I was looking for Soyeon, but I think my other members might have left a long time ago. Maybe I’ll see them at the afterparty but … wait, did you say waking up? What have you been doing for the past two hours?” Miyeon asks, jealousy spreading across her face as she arches a judgemental eyebrow.

You put forth your best sheepish expression as you explain, “Ah, gotcha. But, uh, yeah … I watched your performance—you were amazing by the way—and then decided to take a nap. It’s been a long day, so catching up for a couple of hours was very helpful.”

Miyeon’s eyes roll and arms cross as she scoffs, “Lucky you, I’m still exhausted!”

“I mean, I’ve heard caffeine can’t fix everything,” you say, teeing up your suggestion as you capture her eyes once more. “But it’s definitely worth a shot.”

“Or two,” she immediately adds, smiling in a way you can’t help but mirror. “You think anywhere’s going to be open tonight?”

“Speaking as a self-aware coffee addict myself,” you dramatically declare. “I’m absolutely sure someone was smart enough to stay open and cater to those in desperate need.”

You feel the corners of your lips climb up your cheeks as her eyes light up, brighter than a flash of lightning as she responds, “God, I hope you’re right! Then let’s go; you want a ride?”

“Of course, after you! We’ve been here for far too long.”

Your conversation from before resumes seamlessly, allowing you to speculate with her about the inevitable insanity that’s sure to define the upcoming countdown. From within the tinted windows of the company car you can see the last nightfall of 2021, a year you’ll define by shadows and the lights that cast them. It’s borderline hilarious how backwards this entire year has seemed, with your capitalization on lockdowns leading to terminally online fans thrusting you into the spotlight while (G)I-DLE’s scandal forced them to take a step back into the darkness. Some might take this opportunity to reflect, maybe even celebrate their growth and accomplishments; you know, ask the world to give them their flowers or something. Not you. You’d rather guarantee tomorrow’s bloom by spending today sowing seeds. So, you make absolutely sure to get Miyeon’s drink order right before you run inside and order the trio of drinks. One for you, one for Miyeon, and one for her manager. Just in case, because you’ll never know when you’ll need to cash in on the priceless value of a good word.

Later—a week, month, year from now—you won’t remember the words shared in the back seat of the car chauffeuring you to the hotel. Some matter, more than usual, but none of them resonate soundly enough to derail the train of thought chugging along through your mind: why does Miyeon, this wonderful girl who smells faintly of roses and whose cheeks get rosy pink near the end of her drink, tolerate her transgressions? You want nothing more than to ask, but you keep your cards close to your chest, knowing that now isn’t the time to reveal your hand. You’ve come too far to risk going all in now.

You need not test your patience for long, for shortly after your brief diversion, you hit a cluster of traffic outside the hotel—an impeccable indicator of your intended timing. Even from a distance, you can see the ever-shifting stream of stars shuffling into the hotel’s lobby, where you’re sure that a whole galaxy of partygoers awaits within. Almost immediately, you shift the conversation towards the delicacies on display, getting Miyeon’s perspective on her peers and their approach to parties. On one hand, it’s fascinating getting insights directly from someone within the ecosystem rather than interpreting the ripples that reach the edges of the pond. On the other, it creates the exact kind of conversation you’d hoped to inspire—a cautious yet fervent discussion of many of the quiet things everyone’s dying to say aloud. And with a significant number of idols across a multitude of generations congregating in the area, you have plenty of kindling to keep the passionate conversation ablaze, all the way through the line of cars and even up to the entrance itself.

You arrive together, head down slightly as you whisper back and forth with Miyeon, continuing your soft scrutiny of the other arrivals. Once inside, even though there’s a sea of individuals milling about, your eyes immediately find your intended target. Near one of the back left doors out of the main hall stands the only person who matters—a short little blonde wearing a cute black dress and an expression so shocked you’re surprised the whole building hasn’t short circuited. You find satisfaction in the surprise in her eyes as she desperately attempts to process your arrival. In that stunned countenance, in the vulnerability visible, you find your victory. You find the moment you’ve dedicated the entire final day of the year to. Now to find a drink.

After bidding Miyeon a fond farewell and wishing her luck in finding her other group members, you take your leave and begin wading through the crowd, intent on reaching a high-visibility area. You can't even make it over to the punch table before her hand is clasped around your throat.

No words are spoken. None are necessary. You knew the implication of your actions. You knew full well the exact contents of the message you'd send by arriving with another member of her group. And as you look down at her, you're met by the fire in her eyes burning bright blue, hotter than you've ever seen. Her seething expression presents a question. Your shameless smile presents your own. Somewhere along this charged connection between you two, a spark ignites the fuse. There's no backing out now.

It's only a matter of time before you two burn this whole damned building to the ground.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” you say, as if this whole situation were the most casual thing in the world.

“Just for once, won’t you fucking listen?” she asks, pulling her hand away and balling it into a fist as her voice drops dangerously low. “I know you think you have your reasons for hating me and I’ll even concede that some of them might be valid, but you have no reason to hurt her or any of my friends. So fuck off.”

You don't offer a response—at least not directly. You brush past her, gesturing for her to follow as you make your way towards your original destination: the bar and, most importantly, away from the center of the crowd.

Your tone is hushed as you speak, drawing her closer to you. It’s not a visual you’re especially fond of, but a necessary sacrifice in the name of privacy. “I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you by saying that my reasons for talking with Miyeon are entirely altruistic,” you concede, pausing for a moment as you smile at the bartender and give him your order. “But I am speaking the truth when I say I have no intentions of letting her get caught in the crossfire. Unlike some, I’m considerate enough to keep innocents from getting involved.”

You turn back and witness her reaction, drinking in the delicious disbelief as she declares, “How dare you! I give everything to make sure they’re not affected by my actions!”

Someone else might have believed her, but you know better. “What about the audio tech you punched while filming with your members?”

You find another flash of vulnerability in her eyes, but in a blink, it disappears, hidden behind her defenses. “That was the third shoot in a row he’d made a mistake and clearly he wasn’t listening to the previous warnings!”

“And the outfit you ripped in half mere hours before performing?” you ask, taking your drink from the bartender and sliding him a fair bit more than its cost. You give him a certain type of smile and he nods in recognition, swearing silence and allowing you to dedicate the entirety of your attention to the interrogation at hand as you resume walking towards the fringes of the lobby.

“The stylist showed up hungover with multiple botched outfits for our first ever awards show!” she fires back as she follows close behind.

Another sip. Another step. Anything to create some semblance of distance away from the crowd. “And the CUBE employee guidelines? The list of rules that every new hire needs to know in order to protect themselves from you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she huffs, but the sudden hurt in her eyes reveals the truth behind her lies.

“Alright, I’m sure you have plenty of excuses ready, but I think you’re intentionally avoiding the obvious question,” you say, stretching out the silence with another slow swig from the glass as you continue to walk. “Don’t you think that the best way to protect your friends from collateral damage is by not causing it in the first place?”

Her eyes avert once more, refusing to acknowledge you or the truth. “It’s not that simple. Just—god fucking damnit—please don’t rope her into this. I don’t know who’s told you those stories or what they’ve told you, but …”

She trails off suddenly, cut short by the singsong sounds of a familiar friend’s words on the wind. For once, you have no trouble finding her eyes as both of you tense upon hearing Miyeon’s voice in the crowd, moving in your direction.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I know that she’s looking for you, so—”

“I’m not done with you yet.” Her voice cuts in, ending your sentence as her eyes sweep across the room, scouring the sea of stars as she searches for the voice in question. “You’re coming with me—I’ve been here before and I know somewhere private we can finish this conversation.”

You raise your hands in mock surrender, smiling wide as you respond, “Very well, princess. Lead the way.”

“Do not fucking call me that,” she growls, grabbing your arm and all but dragging you towards a pair of nondescript doors amongst many others decorating the wall. Her surprising strength aside, you’re happy to oblige, following in her footsteps as the proximity lets you catch a whiff of something unfamiliar on the lips you’d so closely acquainted yourself with. With a sudden realization, you receive an unspoken answer to the question of what she’d been doing prior to your arrival; you discover what’s fueling the fire behind her eyes. You realize that she’s running on liquid courage as she quietly opens the door and pushes you inside. All the bright lights fade as she slips past and the door closes behind you, plunging you both into darkness.

Your mind’s still working in overdrive as you stand in the darkness, but as you place your drink down and break the silence, you can’t help but test just how long her fuse truly is. “Really, a supply closet? Could you get more cliché?”.

Even before she turns on the light—even before she turns and you see the fire in her eyes—you know your words have acted as a final spark just based on her posture alone. Because she does turn on the light and she does turn to face you. But she doesn’t look at you the same way. You’re no longer the threat you might have been ten minutes ago. No, when she looks at you now, she wears the cruel confidence of a huntress ready to strike. Guess who that leaves to play the part of the prey.

“Here’s the fucking problem.” A single step forward, shortening the gap between you two. “You have so much shit to answer for …” Another, and she’s halfway to you. “But I’m so fucking sick of hearing you talk.” Once more, and you have to hold your breath to keep from fanning the flames of the inferno looking up at you. “So I’m gonna make you forget every sob story you’ve heard about me.” She continues, pushing her body against yours until you’re backed up against the wall. “Because I’m not the Disney villain they make me out to be …” Her hand wraps around the back of your head, pulling you close as she whispers in your ear, “I’m so much fucking worse.”

Her fangs flash for a moment before plunging into the side of your neck, nearly piercing your flesh as she hungrily sucks at your skin. Immediately, your hands latch onto her sides, desperate for any semblance of a tether to reality as your adrenaline skyrockets and your head spins. You try to snake a hand up her shirt—try to find some possibility of going on the offensive—but she immediately pounces, smacking it away as her own hands start exploring.

“Oh, not so tough now that I’ve got you right where I want you, hm?” she taunts, denying your ability to catch your breath or muster a response as she crashes her lips against yours. It’s so unlike you to be caught without an answer—so unlike you to be the one without a plan. Last time, things were under your control, but this time, any inhibitions you might have expected her to carry seem to have been left at the door. This time, she’s the one with hands up your shirt, scratching and clawing and exploring every centimeter of the chest that contains your pounding heart. Your hands shift down, finding a perfect fit as you cup the curve of her ass and lean into the kiss. The sweetness of cherry clashes with the familiar burn of hard liquor, adding to the endless list of sensations vying for your attention.

Your eyes finally snap open as her lips unlatch from yours and her hands pull away, allowing you the briefest of moments to inhale some much-needed oxygen. Even in her silence, you feel her emotions emanating throughout the room. Temptation. Jubilation. Vexation. Exhilaration. Oh, and lust. So much fucking lust. All it takes is the tiniest raise of her eyebrows and a hint of a smirk to fuel the flames as she sinks to her knees. There’s a dark edge to her words as her eyeline meets your beltline and she chuckles, “Wow … looks like someone’s excited to see me.”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh of your own as you wonder how you’ve let things get this far. It’s you. It’s her. It’s the fact that you’re about to do this in a fucking storage closet of all places. The fact that you managed to survive meeting her and still came back for more. None of the choices that’ve led you to this moment have been correct, but you’re already flying Bad Decision Airlines, so why not fly first class? “Aren’t there more important things that mouth should be doing?”

Her eyes roll with the poise of a practiced gymnast as she deftly unbuckles your belt and unbuttons the top of your slacks. The ungodly glint in her eyes gleams once more as she leans forward and captures the zipper between her teeth, dragging it down as she looks up at you with wicked intent. Go ahead, you hear through unspoken words. Keep pretending like you’re in control—like you’re not putty in my hands.

Your pants hit the floor, and you’re concerningly convinced that your pride’s soon to follow. Her hands glide up your legs, ghosting over your calves and teasing your thighs before snaking their way inside the underwear your cock has been straining against since you first laid eyes on her. Immediately upon contact, you can’t help but shiver. Not because of the cold—that’d be impossible with this much heat in the room. It’s the culmination of the anticipation that’s been building within you all week, no, for months now. If not longer. … Definitely longer.

And it’s all been leading up to this: your cock pulsing with anticipation as she drags your underwear down and takes it in her hands, letting her warm breath wash over it as her tongue runs over her lips and she reaches out to—

You both freeze, locking eyes. She sees the conflict in your eyes. You see the concern in hers. You both stop—separating as she rises from the ground and you get dressed in a hurry—because you both heard the same songbird from before, this time singing your name as she searches through the crowd.

“What. The. Fuck.” Her not-quite-question hangs in the air, acting as accusation, bewilderment, chagrin, distrust—nearly a whole alphabet of bad vibes—all at once.

You raise your hands in the air, attempting to act innocent for once. “Hey, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Obviously, that’s a lie and it slips seamlessly off your tongue. “I had no ill intentions when getting to know Miyeon better and growing our professional friendship.” That’s a lie too. “I was genuinely enjoying talking with her.” That one … isn’t?

Ultimately, her skepticism never leaves, but she forces herself to do so. After taking a quick peek out of the door, she slips out, rejoining the ever-shifting mess of a crowd that continues to speak so many words while saying so little.

-x-

Shortly after—specifically after finishing your drink—you do the same, sneaking out and finally joining the New Year’s Eve party in earnest. You rub shoulders with a couple managers, compliment the dress of a soloist, and even round out the numbers for one group’s drinking game.

Once you finally step back and return to the periphery to get a refill, you get a wonderful view of the lobby and the celebration of the industry you’ve spent the past four years trying to conquer. Surface level analysis would likely call it beautiful; those with a bit more insight might point out the darker components that keep the machine running smoothly. But as entrenched as you are, you know the truth can be found somewhere between the two extremes. Nights like tonight, where the honest truths spoken earlier drown out the honeyed lies you hear all around you, remind you that the pressure exerted by the spotlight on these young stars surrounding you can produce truly resplendent diamonds. And looking out across the floor, it brings a smile to your face to see so many shining so brightly.

It’s just such a fucking shame that leverage is only found in the darkest rooms of the penthouse suite. As much as you’d like to linger on the line of thought, a familiar flash of brilliant blonde in the corner of your eye cuts it short. A quick glance confirms your suspicions: it’s a bad idea led by the best of intentions.

“Hey, you,” a bubbly voice calls to you.

“Oh, hey Miyeon,” you say, allowing the warm smile to naturally develop even as you struggle to silence your internal screaming. “How're you?”

“I'm good, glad I finally found you!” she exclaims, shining brightly as ever. “What’ve you been up to, enjoying the party so far?”

“Oh, you know. Mostly just making the rounds, getting to know people better. Listening to their jokes, laughing at most of them while finding few of them funny,” you say, sharing a shocking number of words for them all to be true. “What about you?”

“I found my pseudo-siblings! It’s always nice to catch up with Sana and Jiwon, especially since it’s been a little while since a big in-person event like this has happened,” Miyeon explains, smile unwavering even as you see her mind cast back to the past two years. “But all that aside, I wanted to introduce you to my groupmate and very close friend, Yuqi.”

Your eyes lock. Your breath catches as your throat dries up. Somewhere in the background, the music shifts to a slower song and you can even swear that the lighting changes slightly, casting a golden glow on her face. Maybe it’s all just your imagination.

What’s undeniably real is the smirk she wears so well, silently presenting you with a question even as the arch of your eyebrow presents your own. For once, she drapes herself in shockingly steady confidence, causing you to almost feel proud of how well she’s hiding the shared history between you two. This time she’s the one who shatters the brief silence, bowing slightly as she says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

You mirror her bow, painting on your own smile as you respond, “The pleasure’s all mine; I’ve heard so much about you too. How’ve you been enjoying the party so far?”

You watch as her smirk widens, showing hints of the predatory smile she wore not too long ago. There’s no stopping your own expression as it morphs to mirror hers. Both of you know full well how much danger you’re putting yourselves in—how little subtlety there is to the game you’re playing. Each of you toes the line of letting slip your little secret, but neither of you seems to care. Instead, she simply says, “Oh, it’s been fine so far. Uneventful compared to what’s coming.”

“Indeed,” you volley back. “This is my first time at one of these New Year’s parties. Do you know if there’s usually a big event around midnight?”

“Isn’t there always?” Yuqi asks, chuckling incredulously as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Some people definitely stick around for the countdown,” Miyeon explains, her smile warm and welcoming.

“And the others?” you ask, clearly offering the bait for Yuqi to pounce on if she so desires. But she’s not the one to do so.

“There’s a reason the invitations suggested booking a room in advance,” Miyeon adds, allowing the implication to hang in the air as hints of humor find a home in her smile.

“Then I should be glad I’m so good at following directions,” you jest, refusing to grant Yuqi the satisfaction of allowing her to stare into your soul as you hold Miyeon’s gaze.

“Indeed,” you hear Yuqi growl from behind surely gritted teeth. “It’s so nice to come to one of these parties and not have to worry about unexpected circumstances.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you begin, finally flashing a genuine smile in her direction. “But what better time to have fun than tonight?”

“Fun?” she echoes, ghosts of a smile teasing the corners of her lips as her competitive spirit rises once more. It’s impossible to miss the unspoken challenge in her words; she’s daring you to define your definition of fun, like she’s dying to know if it matches hers.

"Isn't that what these parties are about?" you reply evenly, ever the professional. "A chance to let loose without the scrutiny of the public eye."

Her laugh is hollow and haughty as she shakes her head, seemingly in disbelief at your response. “You’ve clearly never been to one of these parties before.”

“Even the tiniest of leaks is too much of a risk for everyone here,” Miyeon explains amiably. “Too much to lose, nowhere near enough to gain.”

“At least not on this floor,” you add, allowing the unspoken words to speak volumes as you raise your glass for a toast.

This time, the humor reaches Yuqi’s eyes as her icy demeanor begins to thaw. “Now you’re getting it.”

With a clink of your glasses, the conversation shifts, weaving its way from topic to topic as the three of you discuss the cities you most want to visit, music of all languages, first impressions, and so, so much more. Expectations be damned, it isn’t anywhere near the clusterfuck you’d feared it’d be—if anything, it’s nothing short of really fucking fun. The chemistry you three share is vivid without straying into volatility, and as much as you hate to admit it, the conversation is at its most vivacious during the interactions between yourself and Yuqi. You, for once, hold nothing back: sharing stories freely and firing off joke after joke without a second thought. Miyeon acts flawlessly as the bridge between you two—quietly contributing to most of the conversation yet eager to jump in on a topic she’s excited about—acting as the light that allows your duet to shine. That, of course, leaves Yuqi as your partner in this performance, but not the Yuqi you’ve come to know. She seems different in this environment—less ferocity, more sincerity. As much as each of you still has a part to play, the lack of tension makes her all the more enthralling, drawing you in as her genuine laughter slices through the intoxicating haze permeating the party. But the shocks don’t end there.

The first time Yuqi tells a joke, you’re caught so off-guard that you can’t help but burst into laughter. The second time, you’re more prepared, yet you’re still left in stitches. And the third—where you end up saying the punchline in unison with her—strikes all of you out. Tears form in the corner of your eyes and stream down the faces of the other two, leaving you all gasping for air even as you laugh so hard it hurts. As you regain your composure, you look through blurry eyes and catch a flash of something in Miyeon’s expression. It’s hard to pin down—a quirk of the mouth or a twitch of the nose—but there’s something hidden somewhere under her radiance that you fear is recognition. It certainly doesn’t help when she excuses herself for a moment, leaving you and Yuqi alone as she goes to refill her drink.

“I never would have thought you’d be a fan of the NBA,” you admit, turning and meeting her eyes with ease.

“Funny you should say that. I’d never have imagined you’d be someone who loves hot pot too! There’s this place in Beijing that’s to die for; you’ll have to try it sometime,” she says with an effortless smile. On instinct, you smile back, but just like that—a single mention of China—and you’re back in the real world.

The one where her vile actions are afterthoughts and her victims’ faces are forgotten. “Maybe I’ll have to go there next time I’m in the country,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you struggle to quell the surging storm.

The one where she’s been invited to these kinds of parties from day one while your invitation has been four years in the making. Her eyes twinkle excitedly as she asks, “Oh, have you visited before?”

The one where she seems incapable of losing while even a chance of victory costs you everything. “Twice, actually,” you explain, sighing deeply. “Once to Beijing, and once to Hangzhou.”

The one where she’s gotten under your skin, leaving you defenseless as she holds a gun to your heart. “Sounds like some bad memories,” she comments, a combination of curiosity and concern across her countenance as she refuses to let your gaze escape hers.

The one where you’ll do anything to hide the shameful fact that you wanted nothing more than to exactly what she wanted and scream her name that night in Hangzhou. So, you make sure she’ll forget you ever mentioned it. “Well, the last time I was in Beijing was almost four years ago, when someone spent well over ten minutes verbally assaulting a poor production assistant. So there’s that.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can feel their edge sever any connection that’d been built up over the course of the previous conversation. Her casual posture is cast aside as recognition and resentment both register, leaving only a smothering silence in the space between you two. Those eyes—sparkling just a moment ago with genuine interest—harden into smoky quartz. The edges of her lips thin and tighten, the earlier cheer fading into a cold, impassive line.

"You're judging me for something that happened four years ago?" she counters, voice low and coated in disbelief. “Most people would have forgotten something like that by now.”

“Most people don’t have the petrified visage of a poor stylist recounting your misdeeds burned into their memory.”

“Is that so?” she deadpans. “Tell me, was it Xuě? Lìlì? Who told you that story?” You meet her questions with silence, and she immediately pounces on the opportunity to continue on. “You don’t even know. You’re desperately clinging to a long dead justification and attempting to bring me down alongside it.”

Your blood returns to a familiar boil—the type only she can bring out of you—as you respond, “My sincerest apologies for the lapse in memory, but who are you to speak of justifications? The reason I can’t remember her name is because I was too stunned by the vitriol you were screaming into some poor man’s ear one room away from me!”

“He’d sabotaged my schedule, trying to make me miss an evaluation just before the final lineup was decided! He was trying to ruin my career!” Her reply climbs in volume, threatening to draw the attention of everyone in the vicinity as your tempers begin to flare and clash against one another once more.

“And why do you think he wanted to see you fail?” you ask, whispered words slipping out in a single breath. From your lips, a question. To her ears, an accusation. In both your minds, you know full well that the only part that matters is that it’s the beginning of an impasse. So now, you’re both stuck staring, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You just happen to be the first to do so. “We need to stop this; we’re getting nowhere, and we’re never going to get anywhere,” you say, exerting tremendous effort to keep your voice steady even as the pounding headache threatens your rhythm. “At least not on this floor.”

The look she gives you is incredulous, but you know her too well to miss the signs of intrigue hidden just beneath her mask. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“We’re both staying here, right?” you ask, pausing for a moment and earning a nod of confirmation. “Then we have a chance to truly make tonight memorable … maybe even have some fun along the way.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going,” she says aloud, but her eyes silently plead for you to continue.

Your smile stretches wide as the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable and dangerous as your mouth moves faster than your mind. “I think you will. I’ll message you my room number and we’ll go our separate ways—you can tell Miyeon that I was too tired to stay or something. You’re welcome to visit my room at any time, but if you decide not to, we’ll both have a quiet New Year’s Eve.”

“That isn’t much of a game,” she says, eyes narrowing in anticipation. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? There always is with you.”

“Of course, why play without stakes?” you confirm, laughing hollowly as you continue to dig your own grave. You’re too far in at this point—too invested in the lie to let it slide now. The game you two have played has always been dangerous, but now, with your pride on the line, you’ll accept nothing but a victory. You can’t lose to her. “I know that you’re coming back with a new album soon. If you manage to make it to midnight—if you win—I’ll make sure you shine brightest in the most glowing review I’ll ever write. And that’ll be it. We’ll both leave this hotel tomorrow and go back to our normal lives, pretending that none of this ever happened.”

“And if I don’t?” she asks, trying her best to remain calm.

She’s always brought out the worst in you. “Then you’ll come to my room and we’ll finally finish what we’ve been building up to for months.” It’s about time you showed it. “But I’ll write an article dragging the whole fucking group through the mud in the harshest condemnation you’ve ever seen, and the only consolation you’ll have is that only you and I will know it’s all your fault.”

“You wouldn’t,” she immediately retorts, but one look at the unhinged dance of flames in your eyes and she knows better than to test your resolve. “Fuck. You would. You absolutely fucking would. Why are you like this?”

It takes you a moment to gather your strength, but you reach deep into your bag of tricks and pull out a neglected yet powerful weapon: the truth. “Because I’m tired of seeing you escape the consequences of your actions. I want to see you make a decision that matters for once. And honestly, I’m just curious if you’re going to be able to sleep at night knowing you missed the chance for me to make all your dreams come true.”

You see hints of the ghost of her competitive spirit once more in her eyes, but it remains mostly hidden, obscured by the smolders left in the wake of the fire that burned so bright. “Yeah? My dreams are pretty hot.”

“Yeah? Mine too,” you fire back a moment later than you should, seriously unnerved once again by the specificity of her words. “Seems like we’ll both have to bring our best when you visit my room.”

“You’re so, so wrong …” she whispers, words exiting her mouth as if unbidden, captured by a phantom and transported to your ears against her will.

“I’ll leave you with your thoughts,” you whisper, leaning close to personally deliver your parting remarks into her ear. “Now, be a good little professional and smile as you walk away. You wouldn't want people to get the right idea about us, would you?”

You send one last synthetic smirk her way before departing, making your way towards the elevator as you check the time: a bit past ten, which means you’ll have to wait less than two hours for your answer. As you ride up to your floor, you send her your room number, closing the app before checking to see if she’d read your message. As you exit the empty elevator and see a flash of color in your periphery, your mind races with potential ideas. You immediately jump back in, hitting the button for another floor as you decide on a couple of places you’d like to stop by. Your mind is made up by the time the doors open once more, and you begin your preparations in full.

Regardless of the outcome, it’s going to be a long night.

-x-

No one ever views a high-tension elevator ride as a descent. Why would they? After all, the person closer to the top literally has the higher ground. However, the grimacing visage of the lone individual riding down towards another's room tells another story entirely, one that unveils just how little control they have over the situation.

The stop is sudden, shattering their reverie. A chime pierces the silence. The doors part, revealing a mockery of a red carpet and an empty vase before them. The figure exits, walking as slowly as they can bear. They reach an intersection and avoid the right choice. They walk towards the door in question. A single step. Then another. A third. A fourth. A fifth. A stop. A turn. A sigh.

An extended arm. An icy feeling. Cold metal. Another turn. Another sigh. An unlocked door. As expected.

The handle twists and the door swings open, revealing the dimly lit interior. What little light fills the shrouded space is amplified by the faint scent of rose. One sense is clear. Anticipation. The other is crystal. The sharp laughter of its inhabitant. Taunting. Beckoning. The lone figure allows the door to slam. They walk forward, braving the abyss.

-x-

The absurdity of the whole fucking situation hits you as you hear the hinges creak, ripping a cackle from deep within as you lay atop the bed. The door slams, and the soft sound of footsteps lasts only but a moment before emerging from the hallway is none other than the guest of honor, Song Yuqi. You capture her eyes and brace yourself for the heat, but the stare that meets yours is anything but. Her bloodshot gaze struggles to find your eyes as her eyelids fight an increasingly losing battle against the pull of gravity. Even as her sagging shoulders straighten slightly at the sight of you, it’s impossible to miss the lack of grace she normally displays. “Long nights?”

“And longer days,” she responds, clearly fighting back a yawn even as she paints on an insipid smirk.

“I know the feeling all too well,” you say, hints of sympathy beginning to seep through into your speech. “Come, share a drink with me. Maybe it’ll help ease your mind.”

Your words seem to inspire a slight awakening in her as she looks around and truly witnesses your handiwork for the first time. In your hand, a glass, with an identical twin on the bedside table alongside a bottle of your favorite wine. Scattered all around the room sit petals of rose, carefully arranged and lying so patiently as they paint a picture of your intended mood. You expected her to be here. You can only wonder if she ever believed differently.

“I could, but that isn’t why I’m here,” she says, sashaying across the room and leaning in close. “Besides,” she continues, overtly tipping your wine glass, allowing its contents to paint your shirt a dark burgundy. “We really need to do something about those dirty dirty clothes.”

You refuse to break eye contact, but your muscles tense at the chill running down your chest and staining your skin. Your hand shifts in a wordless challenge—one she’s all too willing to partake in—tipping the glass back towards her and causing a free flow once more. Admittedly, the effect of the sanguine liquid isn’t as dramatic flowing down the silk of her black dress as it is on your white shirt, but the view of her cleavage coated in crimson sends your heart rate into the stratosphere.

“We really do.” Your words barely have to travel as you stand and close what little distance remains between you two, casting the wineglass aside as you pull her into a passionate kiss. Her whole body melts into yours as your tongues clash, both of you fighting for superiority even now as you slowly push her back. You can feel the force of her heart, frenetically beating against her ribcage like a drum even as you both stumble and crash towards the bathroom. Once within, you push open the shower door, haphazardly turning the handle somewhere near the top as the deluge drenches you both. The sudden cold is a shock to both of you, earning simultaneous gasps as you watch the water coat her flowing golden hair before descending upon the midnight silk of her dress.

As the temperature rises, so too does the heat. Her soaked attire begins to cling to the curves of her body, and you're more than happy to do the same. Your hands grip and grasp at her breasts once again, savoring how perfectly they seem to fit against your palms. Hers find your hair, tugging insistently and intertwining pleasure and pain in the way only she seems to have perfected.

“Ffuuucckk.” The groan she elicits from you slips past your lips and behind hers almost instantly, sending shockwaves that resonate into the kiss neither of you has allowed to break since the water's initial shock. You barely have to wait before your moans are mirrored as she murmurs back, “God, the way you—fuck—how can you …”

The most minute of mercies is all you're willing to offer as you detach from her lips, instead tracing a perfect mirror of the path you'd taken sometime between a couple days and a lifetime ago: starting right behind her ear before nibbling on her earlobe, the lightest of kisses on her cheek and along her jawline, past the reminders of your indecencies, then finally all the way down the throbbing vein of her neck.

“I need to be inside of you,” you say, searching for her eyes and finding them somewhere amidst the storm.

“Right fucking now.” She finishes the sentence for you, nodding in agreement and gripping the hem of her dress as you tear off your belt.

Some part of you deep within sends a prayer of gratitude to the shower’s architect as you utilize the vast expanse of its luxurious interior to slam her into one of the drier walls outside the direct flow of the water. Her once-slumped shoulders heave from a lack of air and anything but a lack of anticipation, eyes wide and wild as they invite you to approach. You're all too eager to accept, planting one hand on her shoulder as the other reaches past your waist and finally frees your cock from the confines of your clothing. After blindly pulling her well-drenched panties to the side, you look her in the eyes once again—make sure that she knows the precipice you stand atop and that she's willing to jump with you. With the smallest of nods and not even a hint of hesitation, she steps up to the edge alongside you. Together, you take the plunge.

Immediately, the friction overwhelms your senses as you push into her, earning echoing moans from you both as you shudder at the sensation. “Fucking hell, you're incredible,” you growl, unable to silence the admission as you desperately focus your entire being into slowly progressing deeper.

“Keep fucking going,” she’s quick to growl back. “Don't you dare fucking stop until you're fully buried inside of me.”

"Of course, princess,” you manage to say even as you struggle to breathe. “Your wish is my command.”

"Fuck you, stop calling me that," she hisses through gritted teeth. "If you wanted a princess so bad, you should have invited Miyeon."

"But darling," you declare, drama dripping off your words. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from your friends? Or is it different now, now that I've got you exactly where you want you? Do you want them here to watch as you whimper and writhe under my touch, wetter than the ocean yet begging for more?"

“I fucking hate—” You cut her loathing short as you bury yourself to the hilt, ripping another round of moans from you both. Even as the heat between you two and in the nearby pipes rises, you can't help but revel in it, savoring the taste of your victory. You give her no chance to conclude her thought as you up the intensity, slamming your hips into hers at an ever-ascending rate.

While one hand remains bound to her breast, the other finds a home tangled in the soaked strands of her hair. Intentionally or otherwise, your hold on her tightens as the vice grip of her cunt further suffocates your shaft, granting you both the friction you've been desperately craving. The water quickly becomes the second biggest drowning hazard as waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm you both—pushing you to the edge of ecstasy and tempting you to tip over it. “Holy fuck,” she sobs, voice strangled, scratchy, and nearly silent beneath the downpour. “You—you—”

This time, you're kind enough to allow her to attempt to continue, but her verbal communication skills fail her entirely. On the other hand, her body seems all too willing to tell you the whole story and a bit more. She's absolutely gushing around your cock as she clings onto you with more than just hands, seemingly unwilling to crest the climax without you in lock-step behind her. Unfortunately, the universe seems even less willing to cater to her requests than you are, sending her careening off the clifftop without even a morsel of remorse. The spectacle is sensational, leaving you so close to finishing alongside her, but you’re anything but done here.

It takes a herculean effort, but you manage to pull out of her, causing her eyes to shoot open for the first time in forever as she stares daggers into your soul. Your view is incredible: you see her makeup, running and ruined as her tears fall alongside the shower's flow down her face. As much as you'd like to suffer under the scrutiny of her stunned stare forever, you have a better idea. You toy with her slight frame once more, flipping her around with ease as you push her face first against the shower's glass wall. Within seconds, you're back inside her, thrusting like a madman as cries of ecstasy escape her once more.

“You like that?” you taunt, mind racing a mile a minute as your thoughts try to keep pace with your thrusts. “Like the preview of what's to come?”

“What … the fuck … are you talking about?” she gasps between broken breaths.

"Oh, you couldn't possibly have thought that this would be the end, did you?” you ask, expecting anything but an answer as she looks over her shoulder and you watch the danger in her stare dance behind her eyes. “No no no, next I'm going to take you back out there and fuck you against the window so that anyone who looks up is met with the glorious sight of how much of a slut you are.”

Even through her streaks of tears—born of both pleasure of pain—your inciting yet inviting words are met by both defiance and delight alike. Her voice never wavers as she warns, “I fucking dare you to try it. You're just as likely to get burned as I am.”

Your eyebrow arches, intrigue clear in your expression as you comment, “I thought we agreed that we both like to play with fire.”

“Keep fanning the flames and you just might find out,” she says, the amusement in her smirk standing strong even as you continue ravaging her insides. Somewhere—hidden amid the seabed beneath the waves of pleasure rocking her body—she even finds the audacity to wink and you both find yourselves wearing a certain type of smile. The type you both wear so well; the one only worn in each other's presence.

The shower's flow and slapping of skin keeps the silence at bay as your serenade of sin shifts from semi-verbal back to solely physical. Her lower lip finds a familiar home between her teeth as you turn her to face you once more and choose to plant your own pair atop one of her swollen nipples. You're all too willing to nip, suck, and tease at the sensitive nub, elevating her moans even further until your profusion of pleasures pushes her past a fever pitch.

“Fuck me damnit,” she demands, accentuating her point with a roll of her hips that sends a spike of dopamine through every inch of your body. “Fuck me and don't you dare fucking stop until I cum all over your cock again.”

Your mind wants nothing more than to retort, but your body has higher priorities, using that precious oxygen to power your thrusts as you lead the chase towards your shared climax. It'd be a kindness to give her exactly what she wants, but for once, you're willing to indulge her desires, especially since you conveniently seem to want the same thing. So, you fight, prolonging the burn in the hopes that you can bask in the flames of her desire a little longer, long enough to let it scorch you to cinders until there’s nothing left but the ashes of your self-control.

You only have to stretch your efforts across a minute at most before you’re met with a familiar sight. Even though you've only seen them twice before, you immediately recognize the signs of her oncoming orgasm—the shaking of her shoulders and the hiccups in her throat that convey an uncannily familiar feeling. “I'm close,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against hers. “Where should—”

“Inside!” she rasps, straining to choke out every word. “Do it damn you—I want to feel you shaking as you shoot every last drop inside of me.”

“Jesus fucking christ—” Your reply comes to a sudden end as you cut your words short, knowing better than to ask for mercies she'll never give. Instead, you do your best to cling to whatever coherence remains after the damage her words dealt, desperate to experience the absolution that only the statuette of sin in your arms can offer. And offer it she shall, as it's only moments later that her orgasm overtakes her, suffocating your cock with her tightness as the pace of your thrusting is brought to a near stop. Any grievances you might have had are gone in an instant as the sight of what you do to her sends you soaring over the peak after her, twitching and thrusting until you bury your entire length as deep as she can take. Rope after rope of your cum act as the strokes of a brush as you paint her insides white, defiling her in a wholly new way that neither of you could possibly enjoy more.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to a stop, but you refuse to. Neither of you gets a moment to rest as you instead resume fucking her, sending shockwaves up her spine and down your shaft as overstimulation brings you both to the familiar convergence of pain and pleasure. Every alarm bell in your body rings in unison, begging you to grant it respite from the overwhelming sensitivity as you continue to fuck your cum into her. But just as you've always done when it comes to Yuqi, you ignore every warning sign in sight as you keep thrusting, continuing your assault long after she's burst through her breaking point once more. Her third orgasm hits harder than the previous two combined, forcing you to keep her upright as you give her everything she's ever asked for and more.

Her shaking form eventually stills and you finally yield, granting her the most miniscule of mercies by withdrawing your cock from her. She immediately slides down the glass of the wall, collapsing onto the floor as you try to steady yourself and stay standing. In your efforts to do so, your hand finds the shower's handle and you cease its flow, allowing the echoes of your extended recoveries to resonate throughout the space.

Black spots cloud the edges of your vision as your muscles ache in the best kind of way. A minute later, when your sight finally returns in full, you're met by the picturesque sight of Song Yuqi—one of K-Pop's brightest rising stars—burnt out and panting at your feet as she too tries to come to terms with what just occurred. After another minute, you finally bring your breathing under control, but she's the first to find her voice.

“You … holy fuck,” she whimpers, gaze still hazy as she searches for yours.

“Yeah,” you say, eternally grateful for the eloquence gained through years of writing experience. “I've never …”

“Yeah?” she asks, rubbing her eyes and finally lifting the fog. “Never what?”

“Any of it—hell, all of it—nothing's ever come close to what just happened,” you admit, offering her a helping hand she’s more than willing to take. “Don't you dare lie to me and say you're any different.”

“No, never,” she tells you, allowing the truth to finally be out in the open.

With so little distance between you two, there’s nowhere to hide as you hold each other close, daring the other to be the first to break. There’s something in her eyes that threatens to bind or blind you—something you dare not confront. Not tonight. Maybe never. So, under the weight of her stare, you allow yourself to be the first to look away. “We should get out of these clothes before we catch something serious,” you murmur vaguely in her direction. “I’ll lay everything out to dry; you take a shower and I’ll follow suit once you’re done. That sound good?”

“Something like that.”

Her monotone delivery leaves you with nothing but questions, but you know better than to allow yourself to search her face for answers. Instead, you step outside the shower, dripping moisture all over the floor as you finally strip out of the saturated suit you’ve sported since sunrise. Once naked, you turn to her and try your best not to stare as you take her bundle of clothes before she steps back into the shower. It’s only a brief moment, yet it’s the first time you see her fully bare, leaving even the most inspired corners of your imagination looking like a child’s scrawling in comparison to the artistry that is her body. While you’re sad to see her go, you love to watch her leave—eyes glued to the slight bounce of her ass and rippling of her toned thighs as she walks out of your sight and under the water flow once more.

As she washes away the traces of your transgressions, you do your best to lay everything out to dry. You hastily unfold her balled up dress and lay it out across the bathroom sink, then make your way back out to the room and lay your own clothing across the table and chairs in the corner of the room. You can’t help but crack a hint of a smile at the rose petals still lying in wait, but your eyes truly come to a halt upon the wine entering your view. Barely even a decision is made before you’re striding across the floor, stopping only once the bottle is within reach and the cork has been yanked out once more. The glasses you’d requested are forgotten as you instead drink straight from the bottle, savoring the flavor as its contents dull your senses and wash away your inhibitions. It’s a familiar feeling and a far better friend than you’d like to admit.

You barely even have to kill time before you hear the shower cease once more, giving you your cue to reenter the bathroom and be greeted by the goddess’ mortal form once more. The simple act of her standing there is a gift to you as your perspective presents you with a view of her perfectly smooth skin acting as the backdrop to the droplets’ descent, her towel telling the stupefying story of her subtle curves as it hugs her hips in an impossibly tight embrace. Your eyes fight gravity as they yield to temptation, traveling up the tense muscles of her back and past the sharp edges of her shoulders, continuing ever upwards until they pass her long locks of brilliant blonde; continuing still, all the way until you catch a glimpse of her eyes in the mirror and how they've been observing you ogling her.

“You should hop in the shower. I still need to dry my hair,” she suggests, surprisingly sparing you the shame of having been caught staring.

“Yeah,” you say weakly, averting your eyes and walking away. The heat of the water immediately relieves your tension, allowing you a moment you refuse to use for reflection. Instead, you rush through your cleaning routine, barely registering any external stimuli as you singularly focus on your sole goal. When you shut the water off a couple minutes later, you’re met solely by silence. When you step out of the shower, you’re met by your reflection as the only other inhabitant of the bathroom. And once you’re fully dried off and step back into the bedroom, you’re met with a sight shocking enough to restart your heart. She’s there, on your bed, hair splayed out like a curtain of gold laid upon the pillow as the familiar pink and red of rose petals laid delicately atop your skin, obscuring your view of her chest and cunt.

“This won’t do …” she drawls, dissatisfaction salient in each sultry syllable as her eyes lock on to the destination of roughly all of your blood flow. “You’re not nearly hard enough for me.”

With a single, impossibly deep breath, she blows away the rose petals, revealing the obsidian lace of the lingerie she somehow dried during your shower. Without hesitation, your body begins to address the object of her anger, growing painfully hard and even more so as she curls a single finger, beckoning you over with a look that could set the Han River ablaze.

You’re all too happy to oblige. As you draw closer, you notice her freshly applied makeup: smokey eyeshadow and ruby red lips that paint a crystal-clear message in your mind. She’s not here to fuck around. She’s here to fuck you within an inch of your life.

The bed is more than large enough for two, and as you lay beside her, you amend one of your earlier observations; while her bra has remained dry, her panties are absolutely fucking soaked. You turn to her, opening your mouth and intending to ask her how she did any of this, but a single finger laid upon your lips locks them and keeps you silent. Her lithe form easily climbs atop you, straddling your hips as she leans in, giving you a fucking fantastic view of her cleavage once again as she nibbles on your earlobe.

“My fucking turn.”

With a roll of her hips, she grinds against your shaft, making your cock burn with sensation as the lace drags up and down the sensitive skin. At this angle—you beneath her as she coaxes everything she wants from you and more—you’re caught under the cruelty of her grin as the light casts shadows that accentuate rather than hide her beauty. Another roll, another realization. She’s got you cornered—physically, mentally—she might as well have a gun to your chest and yet, there’s a thrill coursing through your veins. When she captures your lips, she does so with a ravenous frenzy, teeth sinking into your lower lip and pressing until they’re dripping with the blood she craves. There’s no mistaking the fact that you’re the prey she’s been hunting. All that’s left to decide is whether or not you want to escape, and you’re leaning towards no.

"Are you scared?" she asks. It doesn't sound like a question. It sounds like a challenge.

"No," you answer truthfully, knowing full well that in the midst of this chaos—this maelstrom of ash and anticipation—fear has no place. “I can handle the heat.”

“Can you now?” Her laughter is a wicked, dancing flame that sears your senses as you witness her smile run ruthlessly red as she licks the remnants of your blood off her upper lip. “If that’s the case …” she trails off for a moment, reaching back and grasping your length with the unimaginably smooth skin of her hand. “Then don’t come crying if you end up getting burned.”

In the next breath, she takes yours away, sinking onto your shaft with a devastating aggression. Immediately, your lungs begin to tense and strain, desperately searching for air amongst the shallow gasps you sneak in between the slamming of her hips. It’s futile. When she feels like this—hot, wet, and walls wrapped around you so impossibly tightly—you’re better off attempting to offer up a prayer than trying to seize control.

Her onslaught leaves you reeling, back arching and fingers digging into the curves of her hips as you chase an even greater high. She’s relentless, unyielding, as if she refuses to allow you even the slightest opportunity to halt her momentum. Even as she gasps in exertion, it still adds to your torment, sending you tumbling ever closer to the edge of pleasure and pain alike. Her nails rake down your chest, carving molten mementos of her insatiable desire that you won’t soon forget, yet the more these sensations blend beautifully amidst this consuming chaos, the more irresistible it becomes. The way she rides you is primal, rough, yet somehow, unmistakably her. Demonic laughter echoes throughout the room as she rolls her hips ruthlessly, yet still it brazenly teases a promise of the pleasure to come.

Her body moves rhythmically against yours, riding up and down the length of your shaft at an incredible tempo as your heart rate soars ever upward. Your vision is pulled in a million different directions as every aspect of her figure demands your undivided attention—the ghosts of her fingertips as she delicately traces the lines of your abs, the faint hint of her nipples poking against the constrictive fabric of her bra, the unrestrained glee in her grin as she triumphs over the echoes of fatigue and maintains her ceaseless assault. Ultimately, your wandering eyes come to a stop at the sight of her evocative visage, long locks framing her face like a curtain, shielding the rest of the world from the harrowing beauty of this huntress whose sight searches solely for you. You can sense the wicked satisfaction in her gaze, a feral delight in seeing you under her control. Her voice is a low purr that vibrates through your core as she leans in even closer. "Scared now?”

"Never," you choke out in response, swallowing hard as her breath cascades over the sensitive skin of your neck.

She chuckles lightly, "We'll see about that."

You respond not with words, but with a tighter grip on her hips as you sense an opening and thrust up into her, disrupting her tempo with ease and issuing a silent challenge. She gasps in response, and there are hints of flushes—flashes of hunger—across those features hidden in shadow. Her satisfied smirk fades from her face, displaying instead a delirious delight that makes your pounding heart skip a beat. “Such audacity,” she murmurs, subtle signs of mirth showing in her shaking voice.

She’s quick to adapt to the new tempo, moving in perfect synchronization with your thrusts instead of attempting to seize back sole control. Somewhere along the thread that’s inexplicably tied you two together, you find harmony, allowing you to match each other’s strikes with dangerous precision. Her hands climb your body, tangling themselves in your hair and tugging harshly enough to send shivers down your spine. You cling onto her as if she’s the only thing keeping your consciousness intact, fingers digging into her hips deep enough to bruise as each stroke causes an explosion of sensation across your entire being. It’s an intricate dance of power and pleasure: intoxicating, addicting, and—just like she’s always been—impossible to resist.

Amid the rasps of fuck and you and I and oh my god and yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssss, you see a flash of inspiration in her eyes, warning you even before she acts that she’s up to no good. A groan of frustration is ripped from your chest as she slows the pace, leaving you burning with a desire for more pace, more friction, more her, but if the look of bliss on her face at the long, slow strokes is any indication, you’re likely to be left wanting. It’s even worse when she stops entirely, hand wrapping around your throat, desperate for air even as she refuses to allow you any. It gives you a second to stare, to really take in the sight of her as she studies you right back. Even like this, the “flaws” in her appearance—hair disheveled, bra crooked, panties tugged aside, makeup marred by exertion—only serve to further showcase her perfection, leaving you hungry for more. You relax your clenched fingers and grant her hips the slightest of respites as you reach behind her back and unclasp her bra, finally freeing her breasts and their stiff peaks that call your name. Her panties present a bit of a conundrum, but you’re so intoxicated by the image of her you refuse to be reasonable. You muster up your initiative as your hands slide down her sides and rip them to shreds, finally revealing her in her glorious entirety.

“Those were expensive, you know,” she spits, but the words don’t hold as much venom as they normally do.

You shrug, wrapping your hand around hers on your throat as you reply, “So was my scarf.”

And then you both get back to trying to fuck the other into an early grave.

There’s a tempest of wills clashing—her burning desire against your ceaseless refusal to relent—that elevates you both past any limits you might have believed you’d had. The size of your hand dwarfs hers, but there’s an undercurrent of understanding, even as she so clearly communicates the threat she poses. Her eyes, shrouded in shadow, catalog every twitch of your body beneath her. She releases her grip on you before pushing herself up against your chest, bracing her palms as she arches her back in the most alluringly seductive way. The freedom granted to your airflow is for naught as the sight of her leaves you without breath, thought, or any way of slowing the climax you’re suddenly hurtling towards.

“You’re so fucking hard for me,” she whispers, cruelty and craving alike coloring her countenance as she captures your eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? If you ask nicely, I might even give it to you.”

“In your fucking dreams,” you fire back, a feral smirk spreading across your face as the opening notes of her melodic laughter play for you.

But her song stalls as her breath hitches, hiccups of pain and pleasure overpowering her as you feel the quakes overtake her. You wrap your arms around her back, pulling her close as her orgasm overwhelms her, coating your shaft and gushing down your thighs as she reaches the pinnacle of euphoria. Her teeth sink into your shoulder, seeking stability instead of sanguine satisfaction as her moans send vibrations across your skin, sweeping you up in the ecstasy she’s experiencing. You groan in agonizing pleasure as you meet her atop cloud nine, wincing at the magmatic flow of your white-hot cum shoots into her. In each other's arms you find incomparable pleasure, traveling together all the way from the ninth circle of hell to the seventh heaven.

You stay inside her longer than you need to, long enough for both of you to catch your breath. With a regretful groan, you pull out of her, opening up the floodgates of both of your cum to flow freely down her beautifully bruised thighs. You look to her, desperate to call for a draw, but instead you’re met with the face wearing the weight of weariness and shadowy eyes that seem to see right through you. Before she can even offer a single word, she collapses, tumbling to your side and laying her face against a pillow before going still.

-x-

After a brief confirmation of a pulse, you pull the sheets and covers over her, leaving her in silence before heading into the bathroom and cleaning yourself up. Upon your return, you’re anything but surprised to see that she’s gone, drifted off to dreamland, taken by tranquility. The sight steals your breath away, stunning you as your mind grapples with the notion that this peaceful sleeping angel inhabits the same body as the devil who rode you ‘til rapture mere minutes ago. You muster up a couple crumbs of courtesy as you quietly move through your hotel room, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a shirt you’d rather hide beneath the hoodie you instead hang on the door before sneaking out into the silence of the hallway.

You take a left, then a right, pause, then walk past the vase you’d raided earlier and choose to descend as the elevator doors close behind you. On the back wall sits a mirror and trapped within stands your reflection, staring through you as you study yourself. Your practiced posture protects the truth of the present—prevents the outside world from seeing the fatigue pervasive throughout your system. You’re shaking out of your reverie by the sound of a ding and the sliding of doors, revealing your desired floor behind you. You back out, refusing to break eye contact until the doors do the deed for you. You sigh, turn, shake your head, then trek forwards towards your destination. Ahead—beneath a wooden slab stained with stories—sits a suite of stools, empty and for the taking. You mount one and offer a small nod to the bartender, who seems surprised by your presence, though not your appearance.

“Long night?” he asks, grabbing a glass and setting it atop a coaster as he finds the answer in your eyes long before you vocalize it.

“I mean, yeah,” you chuckle, running your finger around the rim of the glass. “In all the best ways. Surprise me.”

His eyebrow rises as he catches the glass you slide back to him, pondering for a moment before turning and scouring the shelves. “Oh yeah? Then how come you’re here, especially now? Don’t get many visitors this late after hours.”

“There’s, uh …” you pause, considering how much honesty you want to offer before resigning yourself to sharing it in full. “There’s a girl in my hotel room. You can guess what we did there, but she’s asleep now and I don’t want to be there when she wakes up.”

“That’s a new one,” he responds, hints of a surprised smile spreading across his face as he slides back the glass, now containing a connoisseur’s drink of choice. “Though I’ll admit that still doesn’t tell me why you’re here.”

“Thanks,” you say, picking up the cup and swirling the liquid around, allowing the aroma to saturate your senses as the dark liquid sloshes around and splashes the frozen orb within. “Honestly, I’m hoping that with a little time, I might just find it at the bottom of this glass.”

“Then happy hunting, friend. Let me know if I can get you anything else,” he offers before turning to resume his cleaning.

“Will do,” you reply, raising your drink in thanks as the snug solace of silence settles over the space. A sip, a thought. Another, for naught. Try as you might, you can’t seem to wrap your head around why you feel the way you do. Theoretically, this “should” be the perfect justification for you to rip her next promotion to absolute shreds. You “should” be foaming at the mouth at this opportunity, the chance for you to give her what she deserves. This is the stuff of dreams, right? It “should” be.

You “should” be a lot of things. Conscience-stricken should not be one of them. Yet here you are. Regretful. Hesitant. Weak. Everything you shouldn’t be. Everything you hated being. Everything you swore you’d never be again.

And somehow, Song fucking Yuqi has the power to bring all of that out of you.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. About her. More than you’d like to admit, yet likely not as much as you should. But it’s only here, in this drunken stupor amidst the forgotten hours of the night, that you finally take the time to truly reflect on your relationship thus far. You’re one of many who’s watched her shine brightest under the spotlight’s glow, but one of few who’s seen who she is in the dark. You’re aware of the disdain lurking behind every easy smile she gives, yet the taste of her cherry lipstick is more familiar than your morning coffee. You’ve heard all the honeyed lies she whispers so freely, but no one else knows how sweet she sounds when screaming your name. You might be the only one who knows she’s a nightmare masquerading as a dream, but you’re undeniably unsure whether it’s one you want to wake up from. So many thoughts, but not even a hint of the truth you’re hunting for.

But then, somewhere in the haze, you finally find the missing piece: it’s the hypocrisy of it all that drives you mad. It's the fact that she gets to have her cake and eat it too; the fact that she gets to grow her fame without growing as a person. It's the fact that you had to get your first editor—your friend—fired because he was limiting your creative freedom. It’s the fact that her group can undergo a massive scandal and have it all swept under the rug in less than six months’ time. It's the fact that you've had to abandon the unknown groups with the most compelling stories because they're not the ones who generate views. It's the fact that you've had to budget for the price of your ambition while she can max out her social credit without a second thought.

Worst of all, it’s the fact that you’re stuck wide awake in the lost hours of the day with nothing but her on your mind while she sleeps serenely in a suite paid for by the fruits of your labor. You've long since come to terms with the fact that she's living rent-free in your head; now you're just disputing her claim to the master bedroom and both parking spots. The possibility that you might be living in your worst nightmare—that you might have become an afterthought—fills you with an icy foreboding that even a thousand scalding showers couldn’t thaw. And there’s still nothing you can do about it.

If you’re being honest, there might never be.

You slam back the rest of your drink, desperate to display a degree of decisiveness wherever possible. You’re gentler when you set it back on the coaster, but there’s still enough force to cause the bartender to turn.

“So, did you find what you were looking for?” he asks, looking down at the glass before meeting your eyes once again.

“Can’t say I did,” you chuckle darkly, pausing for a moment before sliding it back to him. “But it couldn’t hurt to check again.”

Continued in Act Three …

(I’d like to express my appreciation to @capslocked for both their direct and indirect contributions to this fic. They’ve been the biggest catalyst for my growth as a writer the past couple months and I can’t thank them enough for their time and patience. Once you’re done with this fic, please do yourself a favor and go read “Starlet” if you’re in the mood for more Miyeon & Yuqi content. Once you’re done with that, please do me a favor and bully them into writing Part 2, tyvm!)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #yuqi smut #yuqi fanfic #idol x reader #idol x male reader #gidle yuqi #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi #slow burn #gidle miyeon #miyeon

346 notes · View notes

thementalshawty · 2 months

Text

PAC Meeting Your Next Partner/Lover

Hello! I’m back with another PAC this time I’m only giving a little information the rest will be on my patreon which I’m happy to share that I finally have a new member of my madhouse patreon and for them they shall get the most detail from this reading on there, I was so shocked, and surprised in the best way! I didn’t think that anyone would honestly, so thank you madhouse patient member! If you’d like to sign up for my patreon to get the full details of this reading and any new reading coming out the link is below this! Now this reading will be a little about the meeting between you and your next partner/lover/SO (Significant Other), on Patreon it’ll be a message from them as well so that’s for my patients only. Remember this is a general reading not a personal one take what resonates and like water let the rest roll off! Choose an emoji and let’s get into the Meeting!

P1:🐯

P2: 🐝

P3:🐣

🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯🐯

When you first meet your partner I feel like they’re going to notice you way before you notice them and they’ll be following you around, stalking you lowkey, kind of keeping a safe distance to observe you before making their presence known to you. They most likely found you so fuccin attractive! You’ll be very playful with them during the meeting, you’ll be teasing and poking fun at them, lightly roasting but all in good fun, I think that some of you are aggressive with your flirting (I am) but I am hearing that they are going to love it thooooooo, absolutely go fucking ape shit over the fact that you’re funny and you roasting them. They’ll roast you back, I’m hearing this person will be able to keep up with you. Some of my P1’s I’m hearing the word MOST, so MOST of my P1’s have trouble making connection only cos you feel misunderstood? In communication? I’m not sure but it’s hard for you to make connections with others so you’re not going to believe and some of my p1 may try to light roast as a way to self sabotage, but it won’t work, this person loves and can handle that attitude of yours p1! This person you will automatically be atttacted tool sexually, some in this pile will be FWB with their person before a relationship even starts only cos the vibes are so intense and lustful and that’s okay first and foremost don’t feel bad or not go for it! Be their FWB! You’ll be getting to know each other, it won’t be just sex, it’ll just be sex fueled but again that’s just the beginning stages. Sometimes emotions take over first other times it’s physical urges, I’m feeling the need to justify it as if someone will be against it and hey it’s your life but you have NOTHING to feel ashamed of P1! GO 👏🏽 FOR 👏🏽 IT 👏🏽!!

*Extended reading is on my patreon the link is at the end of the reading.

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

When you first meet them they’ll have a bit of an attitude that day and more so kind of cold and standoffish not really saying much and it’s cos they’re having a shitty day before meeting you. They’re a business owner in some way and they’ll be bragging and showing off about how they own a company and how great it is. This person has a huge ego. Friends will introduce you two to each other, maybe your friends works for them, your friends could be friends with them? I am seeing friends setting you two up, some of you they know of you already, like in p1 they’re afraid to make a move towards you but I’m seeing this is more about them not knowing how to approach you which can lead to why your friends introduce you two. When you two will be having your conversation, they may get pulled away to talk to someone else about business or something but you’re not going to like that. You’re going to be jealous whenever they’re talking to anyone else but you, I’m seeing you feeling a little possessive over them you want their attention all on you! It’s actually kind of cute, I’m not sensing anything cringey or anything. They’ll be bragging so much about their successes and wins and how much money they have, they have a lot of money, p1 was rich but your person p2 is hella wealthy!!! My p2 you will be going through a rough time in your life when you meet this person. P1 it was their partner but with you guys it’s you who’ll be going through a rough patch in your life, dealing with drama I heard. You’ll drink, party, smoke, and get lit with them, I’m seeing some of you even dancing with them, close asfcc. It’ll be such a vibe. I’m seeing a couple meeting ina club and the lights are low and the music is playing and they’re dancing slow and close and it’s like everyone disappears. Because of their bragging and their image and wealth you’ll have some pre-judgements about them.

*Extended Reading on my patreon, Link is at the bottom of the reading!

🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣🐣

I’m seeing that when they will be talking to others engaging in other conversations it’ll make you feel a little bit peeved and jealous. When you two are getting to know each other they’ll be stalking you, not in a aggressive way but I’m seeing them lurking on your page or randomly showing up wherever you are so you guys can “coincidentally” interact with each other, it’s actually sweet. Like p2 you and your partner will have a deep long conversation, I don’t see it being hella emotional or soul revealing but I do see it being a long impactful conversation you two are alone having. You are going to be shocked and awe over who this person is. You had an expectation of them and it can be because of you judging them due to past pain but they prove you wrong for judging them prematurely. “You’re not what I expected!” That’s the vibe of you meeting especially on your end. During the conversation you’ll say something triggering to them, not seeing them get mad more so shocked anyone said that too them. They’ll notice you first across room and played it cool waiting for the best moment to approach you. Uh oh 😕 soo this I’m not really liking, you two will trauma bond instantly, this gives me karmic soulmate vibes. You two may argue with them p3, this by far is the toughest pile which again makes me feel this is a karmic connection. You two definitely get off on the wrong foot in some way during your meeting it can be the triggering thing you said to them. Some of you may be traveling, vacationing, or some even overseas. Will be making them giggle, laugh and blush ☺️ . Unforgettable meeting.

*Extended Reading on Patreon Link at the end of this post

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

Thank you guys so much I hope that you guys enjoy it and if you’d like to see the extended reading for more details and exclusive messages from them the link is below ⬇️

Join the madhouse! Check yourself in! You won’t regret it 💋 !

#tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot community #psychic #tarot cards #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card #free tarot reading #fs pick a pile #fs pac #pac tarot #love tarot reading #patreon #pac #tarot witch #tarot readers #kemetic witch

272 notes · View notes

ellavatorz · 1 year

Text

Fear Me || c.b. x reader

prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.

tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.

photo is not mine, found on Pinterest

a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3

It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.

The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.

“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.

He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”

With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”

Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.

Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.

“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”

“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.

“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.

Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.

There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.

“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”

His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.

“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.

“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.

“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”

“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”

“What? It’s true.”

“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.

“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”

You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.

“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”

“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.

“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.

“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.

The device goes off.

“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.

It’s silent.

The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”

You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.

The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”

Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”

“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.

“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.

Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.

The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.

“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.

“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.

“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.

“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“

“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.

You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”

“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.

It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.

“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.

After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.

“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.

“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.

“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”

Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”

“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.

“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.

The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.

“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.

“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”

At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.

“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”

“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.

#colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby brock blurb #colby brock x you #sam and colby

2K notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 19 days

Text

FAQ ໒꒰ྀི ^ ⸝⸝ ^ ꒱ྀིა

frequently asked questions ♡ i will continue to add to this as more pop up. be sure to check this page before asking something to see if it’s already been answered !!

what is bunny/puppy/kitty/deer!reader?

no, she is not really an animal. the reason they are related to ‘animals’ in their description, is because of the personalities i have picked out for them. bunny!reader is spoiled, prissy, soft, needy — much like a bunny, hence her nickname. kitty!reader is sleepy, often has an attitude, a little weird in nature — like a kitty. puppy!reader is energetic, excitable, loving, sensitive — like a puppy. deer!reader is skittish, easily frightened, curious, intelligent — like a deer. they are 100% human, and although i have no issue with hybrid!readers i just don’t write it! hope this clears things up.

is it okay for me to write for an au you created?

absolutely! i love seeing everyone’s interpretations of the little universes i made up !! it feels like a little fanfic of a fanfic which just blows my mind. however, please give clear credit in your description — and if you want, a lil heads up !! i’m friendly i swear hehe <3

why am i blocked?

the only time i block people — is if i feel they have crossed my boundaries (they’re a minor, blatant copying, asking questions that are way too personal and make me uncomfortable, spamming my asks a crazy amount, you’ve been openly talking badly about me) that, and if you sent me hate. so if you’re blocked unless it’s been a huge misunderstanding it’s likely to stay that way, sorry !!

if my request isn’t answered, can i send it to another writer?

if enough time has passed and you’re pretty sure i either haven’t seen your request / am not going to write it — i have no problem with it at all !! keep in mind that i sometimes save requests to my drafts and they stay there for quite some time — but if that’s the case, it would be on me if you sent it to someone else and i was planning on answering cos i kept it in the vault for so long !!

will you ever write for anakin, leon kennedy, miguel etc again?

probably not unfortunately! writing for them was how this blog started out, but this blog has pretty much turned completely into an obx blog and unless something changes it’s staying like that :) my kinktober with writings for all of those characters is still linked in my navi for nostalgia purposes!

why can’t i claim the 🎀 anon?

as cute as the emoji is and i totally understand the want for it to be your sign off emoji, it’s the emoji i use to tag my personal / random posts with — and because the tumblr tagging system can be total poopoo they’ll probably cross over and it’ll get messy n confusing. there’s lots of other cute emojis !!

do you write for the obx girls?

nope, sorry! though i am bisexual, and the girls in the show are absolutely jaw droppingly gorgeous and i love them a lot — none of them are really my type and i find it difficult to write for characters i’m not personally attracted to!

do you have any other social media’s we can follow?

my three tumblrs are available to follow — this one, @balletbunnie (princess aesthetic blog + occasional personal posts), @brunettebun (porn visual / text post blog) other than that no i’m sorry! there is currently a pinterest account with my username attached, but it’s not me lol.

how can i find out what type of reader i am?

just whatever one you resonate with! i see myself in all the readers, but i identify the most as bunny!reader. i made a quiz to make it easier — check it out right here !!

#faq ♡

53 notes · View notes

amourdivine · 1 year

Text

𝐀 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃.

Hello, my loves. I hope you're all doing wonderfully well. Although this pick a card was not the #1 winner in my most recent poll, I know that many people here are excited to build a family, so I decided to provide something fun for you! I hope you enjoy it & please don’t forget to provide feedback, if you will; If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡

how to choose your pile. take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. which pile sparks a feeling inside you? which pile gives you a strong memory or calls out to you the most? take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

♡ ♡ ♡ personal readings are available. click here to know more!

♡ ♡ ♡ pick a card masterlist & information.

disclaimer. none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise! this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑵𝑬.

strength | the star | king of wands

Hello, pile one! I’m not sure if it’s just my mind, but I keep seeing a lot of colors for this pile, especially primary colors, so it’s possible that you might have this child with an LGBTQ+ person and/or be LGBTQ+ yourself! I also saw a lot of crayons even before shuffling, so I think your kid will definitely be a very artistic type. A lot of messages came through even before I shuffled, so I think this kid is absolutely ecstatic about being a part of your family as your child.

This child is going to be very, very feisty and funny. They might be a bit of a tomboy or just a bit “rough” around the edges, but they’ll be very protective over you and their family as well. You could be a parent twice or more, so I don’t think this will be your only child, but definitely the eldest. Also, if you decide to have any pets at the time, they’ll probably want to do and know everything. Your future child’s asking you not to get frustrated when they ask you a bunch of questions about the world, pile one. They really wanted to get that across before moving on with the other messages, because they might be the type of super sensitive and feisty kid - very in touch with their emotions and they easily get hurt by words, but they have a very big and forgiving nature. Also, they’re asking you not to be overprotective, since they’re your first child, they want you to give them independence and autonomy slowly. Remember what I said about the pet? Yeah, they want to learn how to do things and they’ll watch you a lot in secret. Perhaps you’ll be up one morning and when you’re about to feed the cat, you’ve noticed that your kid’s already pouring the food onto the cat’s bowl. That’s adorable!

Something here tells me they might have fights and I can see a kid pushing another off the playground, but your kid will not start them per se. They seem very short-tempered and I can almost hear a little voice in my head going “they started it!” because your child might be very protective over others, especially animals. Also, right off the bat, they’re apologizing for coloring the walls with crayons? Not sure if that’ll resonate for all of you, but if it does, please come back to let me know!

Also, if your child’s a little boy, your second child will be a little girl or vice versa. I can picture a little boy looking after a little girl in these cards, almost like one of them is playing and the other one’s making sure they don’t stray too far. I can’t say much about the other children, but this child will be your first and I doubt it’ll be the only! They’re so giggly, they might love it when you do a funny face or style their hair in a unique way. Also, this kid might be a bit eccentric like the artist they are - they could draw little monsters everywhere and love playing with makeup or looks regardless of their gender. They’ll brighten up your world and love you unconditionally, pile one. By the way, I had a lot of trouble spelling the words and since I’m channeling your future child’s message, I think they’ll ramble a lot and possibly mix up words at first. They’re really asking me to emphasize how loved you’ll be, in a way you have never ever felt before. This child is also urging me to tell you to take care of yourself physically and emotionally, but they also want you to promise that you’ll stay safe for them. They really love you so much, pile one. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡

additional messages & signs: 333, pluto, leo and aquarius season, august, collecting beach shells, ginger or light blonde hair, freckles, tooth fairy, book quotes, “you can be a fighter”, “tell me everything”, “who did this to you?”, chocolate chip cookies, rainbows, lgbt parade.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑾𝑶.

the fool | ace of swords | king of cups

Hello, pile two and welcome to your reading! While shuffling, I saw many cards related to Leo and other fire signs, but mostly Leo. I also heard “single parent,” so it’s possible you may raise this child on your own or become a single parent yourself. I love the freshness and boldness of this child. They may be a bit reckless and, well, foolish, since we have The Fool card here! But on a more in-depth interpretation, they seem unafraid and a bit of an airhead as well. They’re a bit brash and blunt with their words - may occasionally embarrass you in public, but all is done in good faith. They’re extremely pure and good-hearted, so it may surprise you that they’ll never grow out of that typical “naiveté” of a child’s, even well into their adult years.

This child may be born during the months of August or October, given the Leo and Libra signs I’ve gotten here. Although naive, they hold a lot of emotional wisdom and depth to them. They may be overlooked during their childhood years at school, perhaps their more extroverted and youthful nature can get them in trouble and make people underestimate or misunderstand them. However, they’re not a natural troublemaker or mischievous by any means. They’re quite witty and may have a knack for sarcasm or wordplay. Also, this kid looks like they’d be easily lost into books and works of fantasy. They have a wild imagination and it’s something they’re asking you to protect and cherish. This pile reminds me a little of pile number one, but with more maturity to them and emotional depth to them.

Despite looking like an airhead, they may actually be quite observant to the things other people don’t pay attention to. They may forget to do homework or the occasional house chores, but this child will be extremely emotionally sensitive - they may be the first to notice when one of their peers isn’t doing well or may use humor to lift other people’s mood, but this child may struggle with insecurity or confidence, deep down. They may feel they need to overperform in order to be cherished and loved, so they’re asking you to use plenty of words of affirmation to remind them how good they already are.

This child may have a bit of a dramatic flair to them as well, but like I mentioned earlier, it’s all in good nature. Do not joke about their feelings, though! Under this whimsical and dramatic nature, they take emotions very seriously. It’s quite an interesting juxtaposition - hence why I also feel that they may be misunderstood or taken for granted by their peers, at times. They may be neurodivergent and so, it’s important you check in on them. If this child is autistic, for example, allow them to take pride in these traits that make them different and unique. Also, you’ll learn a lot about the world through this child’s eyes. They have a very unique way of perceiving things. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡

additional messages & signs: leo or sagittarius, pisces, scorpio, september, october, twitch streamer, video games, “you were born to stand out”, neurodivergent, adhd, autistic, fair, blunt, sensitive, quirky, lego house, marvel movies.

𝑷𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬.

seven of pentacles | knight of swords | eight of pentacles

Hello, pile number three! Welcome to your reading! Honestly, I had a little bit of a tough time shuffling for this pile, just because the messages and the overall feeling of it was so intense. They seem quite introverted and hardworking, like an old soul in a young body. It’s quite different from my previous piles, since this child holds a lot of seriousness and introversion to them, which is not actually a bad thing - they’re devoted to making you a proud parent.

They may tend to take things very seriously and to heart, however. Whatever you say to your child, they’ll take it to heart, so be careful with your words around them - it seems it can go either way. I get a bit of “middle sibling” energy from this, so they may tend to overwork themselves in order to gain people’s approval or excel in their studies to gain a sense of control. It reminds me a bit of Saturn and Capricorn as their overall concepts.

It breaks my heart a little because this child seems quite guarded. They may have a hard time opening up or simply feel that you’re too busy for them. Their main love language seems to be quality time and acts of service, so it’s important you take plenty of interest in their hobbies - no matter how “weird” or “quirky” they may seem to you, this child is very booksmart, even though sometimes they may come off as a “know it all,” they want to become resourceful and helpful, someone that you’re proud of in the long run. Aw, my heart.

Now, they may also be extremely competitive. I think they may partake in several extracurricular activities at school and become some kind of valedictorian during college. They’re reliable, trustworthy and quite solid. Although may be a bit of a wallflower as well, so be mindful when you engage with your kid, since they need their own time and may struggle with placing boundaries. This child is asking you to remind them that you’re the parent - not them, and they don’t need to have it all together. So no matter how many times they struggle with their perfectionism, it’s important you bring them back to their qualities and how worthy they are of everything.

They may also be naturally strict with themselves and have extremely high standards. They may get this from you, as well, if they witness you being harsh on yourself, they may become adept of this behavior since this child idolizes you a lot and may have troubles with their own self-image or self-worth outside of their achievements. Please remind them to have fun, a lot of it! Not everything has to be a task or a side hustle, and this message seems to apply to you as well. They acknowledge you’ve worked hard to build financial stability for them, but remember to bond emotionally with others and not pass these false beliefs onto your loved ones. Honestly, they’re a little bit of a “mini adult”, it reminds me a lot of the child character played by Dakota Fanning in “Uptown Girls,” especially the scenes in which she struggles with vulnerability and receiving affection. This is a very responsible kid, it warms my heart to know how much motivation they’ve got to succeed in life and to make you proud. They adore you so much. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡

additional messages & signs: “why don’t you do something for yourself?”, capricorn, virgo, taurus, horseback riding, harvard, straight A’s, INTJ, ISTJ, good enough by lifehouse, “and now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good”, you’re on your own kid by taylor swift, "fear of being average"

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot witch #witchblr #spirituality #divination #astroblr #astro community #astrology #astro notes #tarot reader #free tarot reading #tarot community #*

424 notes · View notes

hajim3 · 1 year

Note

You want requests? Hmmmm who (out of all characters you right for) likes a plump soft reader? Who looks at thicc ppl and just can't help themselves? And what's their first fantasy about chubby reader?

If you don't do chubby reader requests then plz ignore me. Thank you for your time ✌️🤗

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚌 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎?

꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒦꒷‧˚꒦꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷

cw: gn!reader, mentions of titties but it can be ignored if it doesn’t apply, suggestive (I think??) I’m not good at warnings so lmk if I missed anything

a/n: HI GUYS!!! I’VE MISSED YOU!!! It’s been over a year! I know this is very short but this took me two days to write cuz I had to get my brain turning again. 😭 Also I had to stop myself from writing cuz I still had a bit more to say but imma save it for another time. I feel pretty good about this one so I hope you guys enjoy it as well.

word count: 478

꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒦꒷‧˚꒦꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷꒦ ꒷꒦‧˚.‧꒷꒷꒦꒷‧˚.‧꒦꒷

⇾ Tbh I have a whole arsenal of characters that I think would die for a cute chubby person

⇾ But if i absolutely had to pick one person, I say Bokuto (oh and Osamu but imma save that for another time) and i will die on the hill that he would go through hell and back to just get a sprinkle of attention from a chubby person and if you disagree then you’re wrong 🤷🏽‍♀️

⇾ And if I’m not mistaken this is canon right???

⇾ My mans is going feral for some big thighs and titties bro

⇾ Bruh cant keep his hands off you man

⇾ Always expect your thighs to be squeezed, checks to be pinched, ass to be slapped, and tits to be caressed at any given moment

⇾ Cuddles are so nice with him especially in the winter

⇾ Cuddles can either be calm and relaxing or chaotic and loud (no in between)

⇾ But honestly he’s such an affectionate person in the first place so his favorite thing to do with you is cuddle because you’re both so warm and it just feels heavenly (I was always the person that someone would hug/touch to warm up because I’m naturally very warm so this resonates deep with me 😭)

⇾ He’s so proud to show you off in public

⇾ He’s the boyfriend that’ll let you wear whatever you want in public cuz he’s secure in the fact that you’re his and he’s yours so there’s no reason for him not to 🤷🏽‍♀️

⇾ In fact, he would jump at any opportunity to take pictures of you because he’s just so obsessed with your beauty he just can’t help it

⇾ Bro turns into a professional photographer when it comes to you

⇾ Like he’s getting all the angles and lighting to make sure it’s perfect

⇾ If someone was to open his social media they would think it’s ran by you from the amount of pictures and videos of you he has on there

⇾ He’ll post a pic of you and it’ll have some corny ass caption like “just in case you forgot what they look like 🤭🥰” even all his other recent posts (within the last couple days) were of you

⇾ He will spam your comments with emojis and stupid pick up lines whenever you post on you own page

⇾ His one and only wish is to be between your thighs at all times

⇾ Like if he could die between your thighs, oh trust me he most certainly will, with a smile on his face too

⇾ Oh yea he has a very bad habit of slapping your ass, so hard if hurts

⇾ But being the sweet boy he is, he immediately apologizes and rubs it

⇾ If I keep going any longer this is gonna be super fucking long so imma cut it here and maybe make a Pt2 and answer that last part in it💀

FIN

⌜ • ° + ° • ⌝

Like, replies,reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated 😁💖

493 notes · View notes

fretarot · 1 year

Text

Your next relationship! Pick a pile ✨

Disclaimer- please take what resonates leave what doesn’t, take a big breath and choose which one you think has your message for you,if you feel that it doesn’t resonate or you feel it doesn’t fit your narrative, feel free to pick a different pile🫶🏼

Pile 1 - selenite

For some of you this is a same sex relationship, seeing that when you will be meeting this person it looks like either you will have just gotten out of a relationship or they have, so this connection will have a lot of healing that the two of you will be bringing to each other, it looks like this person is someone that will be teaching you a lot of lessons surrounding heartbreak, a very raw relationship brought to you to help you grow, to fully understand what it is what you are needing to heal in yourself, as in this pile I’m seeing some of you feeling that you’re unlucky in love or you might feel that in love matters you haven’t found anyone that’s fulfilling to you, and this is due to you not learning your lessons, jumping from one relationship to another, and this person is also the same, you both are very mirrored from the good aspects to the bad past experiences and struggles, this will be a very challenging journey, but you both will be together to kinda recognise the patterns in each other in yourself if that makes sense and in turn switching that button into realising how to fix things or how to collaborate in a relationship, and helping each other , some of you might even be meeting them abroad or long distance.

Pile 2

Okay guys this is someone that you have manifested for a long time for some of you seeing that you have done it accidentally by thinking of what your ideal sp person is however most of you I feel that you have been manifesting this person using specific methods, in a way very logical the way you went about it, but your next relationship will be so harmonious and it looks like your partner will be one that would be the main provider in this relationship, very masculine energy whenever you’re a female or a male it doesn’t matter, it just that your future next person is all about taking care of you, putting their needs aside as long as you are the one that’s happy, seeing you though having some trust issues from previous relationships but that’s what they will be there to help you with, they’ll be able to guide you into knowing that not everyone can be a horrible person to you, l a lot of travelling and fun activities in this pile, you could be dealing with a Earth sign or a fire sign, it’ll start of as something quite innocent, none of you thinking that this could turn into a relationship especially you,slowly But surely stealing each others hearts and not looking back.

Pile 3

This is someone that will come into your life very unexpectedly, this isn’t someone that you know through friends, it’s a whole brand new person, you could be meeting them at the most random places such as your normal shopping trip going to get milk for example and you bump into them🤣, this person I love their energy they are full of excitement and joy, very spontaneous and will sweep you of your feet, picking up weirdly that they are a good cook so this person could be working as a chef of some sort or even meeting them at a restaurant that they work at! They will love spoiling you through gifts or monetary ways, very calculated individual, it looks like this person is not very talkative as in not someone that would be all up in your face type of way but they pay attention to all the small things, when you least expect it to learn all the small quirks there are about you to make sure that they can do those things right, this person is a charmer and very mentally strong, and emotionally intelligent, they’ll be able to tell if you’re not okay just by one look.

345 notes · View notes

plutonianeris · 1 year

Text

Pick a card: reclaiming what was taken from you ⛓

this is a general reading & for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Interpret & choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling. 🖤

artwork credit: Alessandro Amoruso

PILE ONE 🕷

Your time was taken from you. Someone expected you to put them and their needs before yours at all times and you got nothing in return. It made you resentful. It made you feel isolated and alone. there was a lot of empty promises. “I’m so sorry” “all I want is you” “please don’t leave me” “I’ll call you back.” It’s like when they were OK you were never in the picture but once their life was going to shit they suddenly needed you desperately. It made you feel like a puppet like you were being manipulated but at the same time you try to give other people the benefit of the doubt. you’re so loyal but to a fault and the way you reclaim your time is by putting yourself into a practical and logical mindset. And only then through that strength and consistency you will see yourself starting to level up. You will see these dreams that you’ve had that you keep to yourself or that you suddenly daydream about before you go to sleep can come true but you have to leave all this deadweight behind. Being on the sidelines is never going to work in your favor. It never has in the past but especially now. You’ve moved past that. Time to consider long-term goals and stability. Maybe getting that praise from people that undervalued you was enough of a self-esteem boost at the time but not anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised that once you talk to focus on yourself you’re gonna start getting a lot of “I miss you” texts. This could be old friends or maybe someone you had a crush on and you never really were sure how they felt. Putting yourself first isn’t selfish. It’s liberating and chaotic and beautiful and nothing like you have ever experienced I promise. You’re strong enough to do it.

ᘛ♰ᘚ tip jar ᘛ♰ᘚ

PILE TWO 🕷

Your sense of identity was taken from you. Whether it be some thing to do with your personality or the way you express yourself to even your religious and spiritual beliefs. There was someone on the other side that told you that you were wrong that what you believed was wrong or maybe that you were just wrong or broken. Getting the sense that you’re into very alternative type of music or forms of dress, you may like tarot or crystals. You may be into astrology or the ocult. you were disappointed and hurt by the rejection. You were already a little bit afraid to share things about yourself in the first place so that really was the nail in the coffin. you’ve tried to seek alternative methods of finding yourself or maybe getting a response. You’ve been waiting for someone with more knowledge or someone that is wiser than you to give you the answers when in reality that’s not going to help you. this pile really is all about helping yourself. It’s calling you to take time to yourself and maybe to be a little bit reclusive for a while to figure out your shit. This is a rebirth. In a way it’s like you’re halfway there. It’s like your split in half. A part of you wants to completely change and do what you want and say what you want and find your own people but another part of you wants to stay around to convince others that what you care about is worth it. Don’t do it. don’t push back against this change and stop ignoring that little voice inside your head telling you FUCK IT!!!! that hair color or that change in behavior or anything else, I promise just do it. You don’t have to explain yourself or give anyone a warning before hand. “Why are you acting like this?” “Oh they’ve changed” “oh they’re acting brand new” “they’re so weird” you’re going to hear all of that but you’re gonna be too busy feeling amazing to even give a fuck. Stand up straight when you walk even if the confidence feels fake it’ll eventually feel normal.

ᘛ♰ᘚ tip jar ᘛ♰ᘚ

PILE THREE 🕷

Your sense of trust was taken from you. Someone betrayed you, maybe a lover or a friend but you never saw it coming. the song “somebody that I use to know” just popped up. The person that betrayed you could’ve been from childhood or someone that you’ve been close with since you were a teenager. if you were feeling nostalgic or you already trusted them, maybe that’s why you were letting your guard down. I know it hurts and this may not offer any comfort but this is telling me two things. The first thing is that the world is a much bigger place in this tiny box you’ve been living in. Believe it or not all that grief and disappointment and frustration can be transformed into something else. I’m not trying to be corny or say that it’s suddenly going to go away but you need to get out of your comfort zone. You’re not trusting your judgment and now I need to get more in tune with your body so that when you have a gut feeling about some thing you don’t end up in a weird ass situation anymore. And the best part about that is that once you trust your gut and you’re in tune with your body not everything is going to feel like a threat. SO THEN when there is an actual threat you’ll be able to save yourself and avoid any bs. Whoever that did you dirty is going to get their karma. i’m not saying they’re gonna break every bone in their body but once you’re gone they’re going to notice that they had some thing special. then it won’t be you stuck thinking about the worst or the “what ifs” anymore. after this you’re going to feel more powerful and beautiful and you might be a little bit colder but it’s just that not everyone is going to have a chance to experience you. They’re going to have to earn that.

ᘛ♰ᘚ tip jar ᘛ♰ᘚ

#pac #pick a deck #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a pile #astro tarot #astrology #intuitive reading #pick a pile reading #pick an image reading #pick a deck reading #plutonianeris

506 notes · View notes

moonlightndaydreams · 5 months

Text

Body Language

NSFW // minors do not interact

Pairing: Lee Minho x female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers // romance and smut

Word count: 5.2k approx. mostly spicy smut 🌶️

Story: whilst attending a gathering at Felix’s apartment, you meet his new housemate, Minho. You don’t speak Korean, and Minho knows very little English, but somehow he understands exactly what you need.

Warnings: mentions of physical disability (reader has a hand impairment and wears a leg brace), anxiety and body image issues. Smut warnings below.

Note from Sorsha: This is my first piece where I talk about disability and body image issues. A person’s experience of living with disability is unique to them. I’m not implying that all people with disability experience anxiety or self-consciousness around their disability. But I do personally live with a physical disability and can only draw from my own experiences. Unfortunately my experience doesn’t include having hot sex with Minho 😫

Smut Warnings: unprotected piv sex (pull out method 🫣), oral sex (f. Rec), nipple play, aftercare.

I hope that even if you don’t have lived experience of disability that you still read this story as I think the character will still resonate with many of you.

Love you, and enjoy xxx

—————————

You take a deep breath as you approach the door of your friend’s apartment and ring the doorbell. While you wait for an answer, You look down at your chosen outfit. A White floral print on duck egg blue background ensemble of a tight tank top and matching maxi skirt. The skirt has a split up the front of one leg, your “good” leg. You always seem to refer to that leg as your “good” one. It isn’t even all that good, it just works better than the other leg. The one with the leg brace. No heels for you, but you’re sporting you favourite white sneakers. You run your hands over the fabric, satisfied with how you look today. You look great, and this party is going to be fine. You tell yourself.

But as you wait for the door to open, you can hear many voices from the inside of the apartment, and it makes you feel sick.

It isn’t the leg brace that makes you self-conscious, or that your balance isn’t so good. You actually “embrace the brace” because it is a tool to help you do what you want and need to do. It’s your hands that are the problem. No one can really see anything is wrong, not unless they look closely and really pay attention. But they hold you back from interacting with the world the way you want. Your impairment makes fine motor tasks near impossible. You can’t even undo buttons to save your life. And writing, well that went down hill at some point in the last three years, and you can barely fill out a form these days. Not being able to play guitar anymore is pretty shit too.

But your biggest anxiety inducing situation is eating in front of strangers. Cutting up food is awkward, holding finger food is risky for the floor and your clothes, and fucking hell, if chopsticks are involved you’re doomed to starve.

You are anxious. You hadn't anticipated how anxious you were going to feel when you told Felix you’d come to celebrate his promotion. But of course Felix didn’t quite know the full extent of the dread that filled your body whenever you had to be in a “dining” setting. You’d confided in him about your fears and anxiety somewhat, and he’d promised that it would all be okay and you could use anything that would help.

“It’ll be just a small gathering, y/n.” He’d smiled at you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You didn’t want to say no.

And now here you are, at your friend’s. You have turned up. You haven’t bailed.

But you you want to run away. No. You will stay, even if you don’t get to eat.

“Y/n!!!” Felix beams at you as he opens the door. “Come in, love.” He steps to the side allowing you to enter the apartment. Sure enough there are a dozen or so people already mingling and chatting. Music was playing from a Bluetooth speaker over on the right.

“Are you feeling, okay?” Felix whispers in close to your ear, and you nod and swallow hard. You’re not really okay. You tell yourself that nothing bad is going to happen. That no one is even going to care, and as you find a place to sit and take in your surroundings, you realise no one is even looking at you. See, it’s fine. This isn’t that bad. You are okay. You don’t recognise anyone, they seem to be Felix’s work friends, whereas you are his childhood friend, but after about ten minutes of polite hellos, and introductions, you begin to feel your nerves settle just a little bit.

“Y/n, want a drink?” You look up to see Felix offering you a can of soft drink. You nod and your eyes flicker to the man standing beside him. A man you have never seen before. This must be Felix’s friend from Korea. From what Felix had said previously, he has moved here for a while for work and study. What is his name again?

“This is Minho.” Felix gestures to the man standing nervously beside him. Minho. “Hello, Minho. I’m y/n.” You smile. But Minho simply nods curtly, barely making any eye contact with you.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t speak much English yet.” he chuckles and opens the can of drink for you before passing it to you. You use every ounce of concentration to grasp the can securely, hoping to god you don’t drop it and spill it everywhere. Satisfied you have got a good hold on the can, you look up to find Minho has disappeared.

“Oh, he’s gone?” You say surprised.

“He’s just gone to start bringing the food out. He loves cook-”

“Lix!” A voice from across the room cuts him off.

“Excuse me for a sec.” Felix pats you on the shoulder as he walks away in the direction of the voice.

Minho returns the room shortly after with trays of what looks to be various finger foods, and begins to place them on the coffee table and dining table that has been set up to the side of the living room. Mini pizzas, fried chicken pieces, some type of vegetarian situation, and several other awkward looking foods that you were not planning to attempt to eat. Although, it all looks absolutely scrumptious. You feel your stomach rumble and you regret not filling up on food beforehand.

You watch the other people pick some food and use flimsy napkins as plates. It looks so easy for them, and you feel a pang of jealousy. Stop that now. You tell yourself. How can you solve this problem? You need an actual plate, and maybe a coffee mug to have another drink in, you think, looking at your tight grip around the now empty can. You look around the room and see Minho standing to the side watching the positive reaction to the food. Everyone is absolutely loving it. You look back at Minho again and catch his gaze on you. He looks at you quizically and then turns to go back into the kitchen. Fuck! You must look like a stuck up bitch.

Okay, let’s go find a plate and a fork, and a cup, or you’re just going to miss out on eating altogether. All you need to do is get up and go to the kitchen. This is always how your internal dialogue goes. You need to plan in your mind how you are going to navigate your surroundings. Are there any obstacles you need to work your way around? Which is your quickest route?

You enter the kitchen surprised to see Minho still working away chopping food, even though there is already plenty of food in the living room. Your eyes drift over his frame, and you’re surprised by the flushed feeling in your cheeks. He is attractive. Felix had mentioned he was a dancer with a passion for cooking. Hmm.. yes he definitely has a dancer’s body. You can tell his thighs are toned from the way his trousers cling to them. You bite your lip as you eyes follow his thighs up to his taught ass and you bite down even harder on your lip. Fuck. Stop looking at him, you tell yourself. You quickly lift your gaze to his upper half, his thin cotton button down draping over his back muscles. And his arm. Fuck! You can’t stop staring at the veins in his forearm as he chops a tomato.

You are suddenly brought out of your not-so-innocent thoughts when the knife in his hand stills. Shit. You quickly remember why you came in to the kitchen in the first place, and open the overhead cupboard to fetch a mug, and opening the fridge to see what beverage options there are.

Your breath catches in your chest when out of nowhere, a veiny hand grabs onto the fridge door, opening it further and reaching in to grab two cans of soft drink. You step out of the way to give the owner of the hand room, only to find Minho standing there with a Sprite in one hand and a Coke in the other, holding them both up to you in a way that could only mean he’s asking you to choose one. But all you do is stare blankly at this gorgeous man in front of you.

Minho nods his head, gesturing for you to take one. Fuck his eyes are captivating. You reach out to choose the coke, but instead of him handing it to you, he takes both cans to the counter and places a second mug down next to yours. You watch him, intrigued, as he opens both cans - one handed - and fills the mugs part way with the drinks. You take a step closer, wrapping your hand around the handle of the mug of coke, and tentatively make eye contact with him again. “Thank you.” You whisper. He nods shyly in return and mumbles a “your welcome.” Then gets back to what he was working on.

You don’t move. You barely breathe. This can’t take your eyes off of him. You are sure he can feel your eyes on him too, because his movements are little stiffer, more hesitant than when you first walked into the kitchen and he didn’t know you were there. You wondered if you were making him nervous.

He takes two plates and begins to arrange much of the same food he’d taken out to the gathering earlier. Mini pizzas, fried chicken, but also a little salad on the side. Then he proceeds to cut up everything up into bite size pieces. On both plates. What is he doing? You are intrigued. To finish off, he gets two forks out of the cutlery drawer and takes both plates over to the little two seater table in the opposite corner of the kitchen. And then he’s brushing past you to take the two mugs of soft drink, setting them down with the two plates of food.

When he is done, he looks at you expectantly. You are unsure what is happening. His gaze alternates between the little table and you. “Eat with me?” He says carefully. Wait. What? You glance at the plates on the table. This is for you? “You want me to eat with you?” You double check, even though you’re not sure how much he understands. He nods with a smile and sits himself down in one of the chairs.

Slowly, you make your way to the other chair and nervously sit down opposite him. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself. The plates of food, all chopped up small, coupled with the cold drinks in what one would normally drink a hot beverage from, looks exactly how you set up your own dinner. At home, you have a special knife to cut your food up and you make a mental note to start keeping it in your handbag. But are you allowed to carry knives around like that?

“You don’t like?” Minho breaks your thoughts again.

“Yes… No… I mean I do like.” You say and stab your fork in a piece of chicken and pop it into your mouth. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “Oh my god, Minho!” You say with your mouth full. “This is delicious!” You cry. “Yum!”

Minho smirks, a satisfied look on his beautiful face. “Yummy?” He asks. You nod frantically. “So good. Yummy.” You grin back, before going in for more food.

Minho digs in too, and as you both fall even more silent than you had already been so far, you wonder why Minho hasn’t joined the others in the other room. Maybe he’s shy? Maybe he’s unsure because of the language barrier? But he seems so confident, and you imagined that if he were surrounded by his people he’d be boisterous and maybe even a little obnoxious. He has that look about him. Devious. As you place the last bit of food into your mouth, you realise that you hadn’t even thought about your anxiety for a while. Minho, a complete stranger, has made your dining experience one of the least stressful in a long time. And you hadn’t even had to explain anything to him. Felix must have mentioned something to him, you decide. How else could he have known what you needed?

You look up and give Minho the biggest, most thankful and authentic smile. “Thank you, Minho. That was so fucking good.” His eyes blink rapidly at your use of the word fucking, and he quickly breaks eye contact, and a look of confusion crosses his face. His cheeks turn a shade of pink. Hmm, so he knows that word?

“There you two are!” You both look up startled as Felix enters the kitchen and crouches down beside you both. He scans the empty plates and peeks into your coffee mug curiously.

“Thank you Felix.” You say, but he looks confused. “For what, love?”

“Letting Minho know my challenges…you know, with food.”

“Honey, I never told him anything.” He shrugs. “But I probably should have. Fuck, I’m a shit friend, I didn’t even see if you needed anything.” He scratches his head. “Anyway, I came to tell you that we are all heading into town now. Are you going to come?”

You glance at Minho who seems to be pretending to be interested in how his Sprite looks swirling around his mug, and then you look back at Felix. He shakes his head “Minho already told me he won’t be coming out.”

Oh. You take a moment to consider how your night would pan out if you went out with the group. It would most likely be fun, although your feet would hate you in the morning. A night out is extremely tiring. You cast your eyes around the kitchen. There are plates, pans, rubbish absolutely everywhere, and who knows what state the living room is in? If Minho was left here on his own, you were positive he’ll clean it all up himself.

“No, I think I’ll just stay here. Help tidy up.” You say brightly. Felix raises his eyebrows and looks to Minho and says something to him in Korean. You watch Minho as his eyes widen and when blink rapidly as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Eventually he meets your eyes and offers one polite nod. You nod in return, like you have both just agreed on something important, and you feel a nervousness in your stomach. Or is the feeling something else?

“Well,” Felix stands up. “I may or may not be back before dawn. If you want to crash here tonight, y/n, you know you are more than welcome, right?” He gives you a hug and then hugs Minho. They exchange a few more words, and you are sure Felix has just teased Minho, because Minho suddenly raises his voice in a loud “Ya!” making you jump, and play punches Felix in the arm. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” He laughs as he leaves you and Minho alone once more.

———

After the group has left, and after Minho cuts you a second piece of cheesecake, you watch him begin the mammoth task of cleaning up. The place feels so silent, apart from Minho pottering around collecting plates. You retrieve a garbage bag from the third drawer down in the kitchen, because you know where everything lives at Felix’s, and go about the apartment collecting any rubbish. You aren’t really sure how much help you’re going to be, but thankfully most people had only used napkins and canned drinks, so most of the washing up wasn’t the breakable kind. Pots, pans, and cooking utensils mostly, and you find you are managing quite alright with putting those away in their homes.

Once everything was relatively tidy again, you dim the kitchen lights a little, because your eyes are tired, and set to work filling up the kettle. “Minho, would like a coffee?” you gesture to the jar of instant coffee. His eyes light up. “Mmm, coffee. Yes…please.” He smiles. “Okay, great.” You chirp spooning out the coffee and open the fridge for milk. Again, just like before, Minho’s veiny arm grabs the fridge door. But instead of grabbing the milk, like you expect, he closes the door and gently grasps your arm and turns you so your back is against the bench. The gesture is soft and gentle, not aggressive or demanding, and it makes your breath stop. Your hands grip the countertop on either side of you, trying to steady yourself in this unexpected situation. He is standing directly in front of you, close, and there is nowhere for you to avert your eyes. He swallows hard and stares into your eyes questioningly. You open your mouth to speak but you don’t know what to say. It doesn’t matter though, because Minho speaks first.

“Thank you.” He whispers. You aren’t entirely sure what he is thanking you for, but you assume he means helping him tidy up. “For eating with me.”

Your heart absolutely melts. Who is this man? “You’re welcome.” You choke, staring back at him just as intently. His brown, almond eyes convey a myriad of emotions. Nervousness, desperation, hope, desire. His eyes flicker down to your lips, then lower as he takes a really good look at your body, before returning to your lips. Then his eyes drop to one of your hands. He reaches for it, closing the gap between the two of you in the process, and brings your hand to his lips. You are caught off guard at this gesture. You don’t really like bringing attention to your hands, and having Minho deliberately tending to them makes you feel exposed. You try and pull away, but Minho just brings your fingertips back to his lips and proceeds to kiss the backs of each of your digits. Slowly. One by one.

You suck in your lower lip, both frightened and aroused in equal measure. He lowers your arm down to your side, but still holds your hand securely, and he brings his other arm to rest on your hip.

“This? Okay?” he asks, trying to guage your reaction to his touch. You nod. That’s all you can do.

You feel a heat wash over your body, and you know you are blushing. The butterflies in your stomach flutter around and there is an unmistakable ache in your core. You bring your free hand to rest on his bicep, and you bravely pull him closer to you. He reads this gesture as invitation to lean in closer to you. His eyes still linger on your lips, and his warm breath on your skin makes you quiver.

“This? Okay too?” he whispers in a husky voice, sending shock waves straight to your cunt. “Yes” you squeak and Minho chuckles low before turning serious again. The silence in the room suddenly feels excruciatingly loud as Minho pauses, centimetres from your lips, and it feels like you’re frozen in time. His lips brush yours in a featherlight kiss. It is barely even a kiss, but it feels more intense and passionate than any other “first kiss” you’ve had. He pulls away slightly, only to come back in with more intensity. He let’s go of your hand and cups your jaw instead, pulling you in towards him. You part your lips in the hopes he will explore you with his tongue, and he immediately does.

You feel yourself losing your balance slightly and grip onto Minho tighter. He slides his hands around to the back of your thighs and lifts you effortlessly setting you down on the counter. He breaks the kiss, panting and out of breath, and leans his forehead on yours to compose himself. You rest one hand on the back of his head, your fingers threaded through his dark brown locks.

Once he’s composed himself, Minho suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, taking you by surprise. You watch in anticipation as he very slowly, and very intentionally, lifts your skirt and drapes the fabric over your knees. You feel a surge of embarrassment and want to hide, and you berate yourself for how easily all that hard work of “self-acceptance” has come undone in a single moment. You force yourself to look down at Minho to find he has a hand resting on the velcro fastening of your leg brace, and he is looking up at you waiting. “This? Okay?” he repeats the same sentence as before as his fingers undo the strap a fraction. You nod. “Yes, it’s okay.”

You watch Minho’s expression intently, trying to catch any glimmer of disgust, or worse, pity, but you see none of that from the man at your feet. He carefully removes your brace and shoe, placing it carefully on the floor. Then he removes your other shoe and places that neatly beside the first. Next, he peels off your socks.

You have never felt so exposed in your entire life as you do right now. But as Minho starts to kiss and caress your calves as he makes his way back up to standing, you realise he is captivated by you. And as he pushes your knees apart to makes space for him to come in close to you, you feel that he is indeed very aroused by you too. It makes you hungry for him, and you reach up to the buttons on his shirt. There is no way you can undo these yourself, but it’s okay because Minho’s hand is there and he unbuttons his shirt swiftly with one hand while you watch in awe. You help him slide the shirt off his shoulders and it drops to the floor. Minho hurries to peel your top off over your head, discarding it carelessly. He is focused on only one thing now, the clasp of your simple cotton t-shirt bra, and he undoes it like a pro. You raise your eyebrow at him, suspicious as to why he is so skilled at undressing. But he just smirks and let’s your bra fall away.

He immediately takes a nipple in his mouth and cups your other breast. You arch your back into him and hum a “yes, Minho, yes.” He moans in reply and you rake your hands through his hair, panting as he rolls his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Minho? Your bedroom? Hmmm…” you moan. “Bed?” You throw the words around hoping he understands. He lifts his head to look at you and you nod your head towards the hallway where the bedrooms are.

He wastes no time lifting you off the counter and you automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He devours your lips with his as he carries you to towards his bedroom, stopping on the way to press you against the wall in the hallway. You moan again, and throw your head back while he hisses as he grinds his hardness against your clothed cunt. Your body is craving his, and you would absolutely let him fuck you right then and there against the wall if he wanted to.

He pulls you away from the wall, biting and sucking the skin on your neck as he carries you to his room and carefully lays you on his bed. He continues to kiss you, alternating between your mouth and breasts, like he can’t decide what to settle on.

His kisses slowly move lower down your body, peppering your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your skirt. He lifts his gaze to check in with you yet again, and you nod your head, giving him permission to remove your skirt, leaving you only in your pale lavender cotton briefs. Minho’s face hovers incredibly close to where you’re aching to be touched. He hums in approval as he traces a finger over the wet patch of your underwear and brushes it over your clit, watching the fabric cling to your lips as he does so. You suck in a breath at the sensation. He smirks, satisfied with your response, then rubs his finger over your clit again. “Fuck!” you cry out. He locks eyes on you while he rubs a little harder. You furrow your brows and beg him with your eyes to remove your panties.

He peels your underwear off and you let your legs fall open for him, offering yourself to him completely. He doesn’t go straight for your cunt, but tenderly kisses your inner thighs and slowly makes his way to your centre. He knows, he has to know, what this is doing you. How wet, how soaked you are. How much you need him inside of you. “Minho, please.” You sob his name. He replies by licking a stripe from your entrance to you clit. Your hands fling to his hair, holding him against you, and he stops his teasing. He’s on a mission to take you to the stars.

His tongue slips inside you while his fingers finds your clit again. You are barely holding on by a thread as he expertly tongue-fucks you. And then he swaps, bringing his fingers to your entrance and tongue to your clit. He crooks his fingers, somehow knowing exactly where that spot is. You whimper, cry out, moan, almost choke on air, as he digs into that spot over and over, and his tongue laps at your clit in some kind of synchronised dance. It’s relentless, and you can feel the tightness inside you about to - “Oh…Ohh…I’m…I’m coming.” You cry as your orgasm surprises you. It is fast and intense, and you feel your walls clenching and releasing rhythmically.

Minho lifts his head, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction and his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. He takes a good look at your pussy, before quickly discarding his trousers. Your eyes widen when they land on his hard cock. Mouthwatering. Veiny like his arms. Fucking perfect. You don’t take your eyes off of it, and you lick your lips when you see pre-cum leaking from the pinkish tip. Minho kneels between your legs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him rub the tip along your lips. Your vagina clenches in desperation to be stretched and filled. You swallow and look up at Minho. His gaze is fixated on the tip of his cock as it pushes against you and threatens to slip inside. His eyes are hooded and full of desire, his lips are parted, perhaps in awe. Then he looks up, catching your gaze, asking for permission. He needs to be inside you. You can tell because he looks like he is absolutely going to die if he doesn’t fuck you soon. But there is also hesitation in his eyes. You know he doesn’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you.

Your reach up and cup his cheek and nod your head. Then you reach down and grasp his length, relishing in how hard he feels in your hand, and you feel like a fucking goddess when his body shudders in some sort of primal way. You let go of his cock and return to leaning on both your elbows. He crashes down on top of you kissing you, transferring your juices from his mouth to yours. And then you feel it, his thick, hard cock stretching you open. He holds your face close to his, keeping eye contact as he slowly stretches you, sinking deeper and deeper inside of your body. He mutters something in Korean, and it turns you on beyond belief. You know he notices your body’s response to the way he’s speaking, because he continues to say things, watching your reaction. Even though he you can’t understand him, his tone is gorgeous, and your body doesn’t care what he is saying. It’s just responding.

Your bodies are sweaty, your cunt wet and noisy, and with each thrust a loud slapping sound resonates in the room. Minho’s noises become a mixture of Korean words, grunts, hisses, and even growls, as he builds the pace, and it only turns you on more. You respond with your own moans and whimpers, crying out every time his cock kisses your cervix.

Sweat drips off his nose, and lands on you as he repositions himself slightly so he can watch his cock fuck in and out of you, all whilst still moving his hips expertly, finding that spot again.

Watching Minho watch himself fucking you is the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen. He is concentrating so hard on chasing both his and your pleasure. He’s so precise in his movements. Careful. Controlled. Measured. But you want him to lose himself to the moment. You want him to forget himself.

Without thinking, you reach up and tap him on the shoulder. He stops immediately and his eyes widen with worry as he tries to work out what is wrong. You pat your hand on the mattress beside you, indicating you want him to lay down. He does as you ask and you throw your leg over to straddle him. He grins up at you and you can’t help but grin back. He holds your hip with one hand, helping you lift up enough for him to guide his cock back to your entrance with his other hand. You both exhale in relief when he is snuggly back inside.

Minho waits for you to take the lead, and you experimentally grind your hips. The angle feels incredible. He is so deep inside you, your bodies flush with each other. Minho helps you set a steady rhythm and pace by guiding your hips back and forth along his length, and you are on the brink of your second orgasm. You sob at how good he feels inside of you and lean down onto Minho’s chest where he holds you close. He digs his heels into the mattress and begins to brutally snap his hips up into you. The force of each thrust takes your breath away and you come hard around his cock, crying out his name. You finally feel Minho snap and he somehow has you on your back again. You hold onto his shoulders as he knocks the breath out of you with each forceful thrust. And then he pulls out of you moaning as he paints hot ropes of cum all over your stomach. He collapses on top of you panting trying to catch his breath, neither of you caring in the slightest about the stickiness between your bodies.

Eventually your breath returns to normal, and Minho slips off the bed and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. He disappears out of the room only to return with a warm cloth, a mug of water and the items of clothing you had left in the kitchen. Somehow he is able to hold everything at once. You watch him clean you up and offer you the drink. You gulp it down, not realising how thirsty you are while he goes to his chest of drawers to retrieve an oversized t-shirt for you to wear.

He leans in to kiss you. “This… this was okay?” he asks softly. You nod. “Yes.” And he grins sheepishly, pulling you down beside him and curling up behind you whispering words in Korean as you fall asleep.

—————

A/n: I had someone ask me since writing this how LK knew what reader needed. I suppose I wanted to tap into Minho being rather observant of other people’s needs (and I didn’t convey that well), or maybe Felix did say something to him afterall? I will leave it up to you to decide how you want Minho to know her needs.

Xxx. Sorsha

@channieandhisgoonsquad @chansmanda @antoniorhinothethird @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @lyramundana @2chopsticks2eyes @noellllslut @its-hannjisung @thatonenoona @ddyskz @bethanysnow @weareapackofstrays

#skz smut #skz fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know x y/n #pwd #disabled reader #Lee know x reader language barrier #sorshas fic

87 notes · View notes

epiclamer · 1 year

Note

I've never asked if anyone could write something before so sorry if...idk how I could mess this up but if anyone could it'll be me. 😌

You may have done this already but...What about a villian that is forced to commit crimes because of their parents, they have been told they have to hurt hero, they don't do it and get punished, hero finds them later?

Also I love your writting, you seem like a pretty cool person to be around 😎

Damnnnnn alright anon. This is good. And thank you!

Part 2 Part 3

Parental Pressure

The last thing Hero had expected on their late night walk to clear their cluttered mind was to run into Villain who seemed to be doing the same. It was too late for either of them to be out, but that hadn’t stopped the pair.

Villain stood, wide eyes and blinking at their nemesis, a large duffel bag slung over their shoulder and an oversized sweatshirt practically swallowed them whole. The criminal was young, younger than the other ones Hero had fought and it made them pathetically sympathetic.

Hero remembered being that kid. That kid who would do anything for a bit of praise. Thankfully, in order to get that praise Hero became a saviour, while Villain headed down the darker path.

“Villain. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Subconsciously, Hero’s hands drifted to where their handcuffs usually sat—a movement that did not go unnoticed on the other’s behalf.

The criminal took a step back, both hands bracing the bag that tilted themselves slightly to the left as if they were going to make a run for it. They looked fearful, nervous, bouncing on the balls of their feet as their jaw hung slack.

“Hm?”

Villain spluttered, taking another step away as they tried to come up with an explanation for their midnight stroll. “I-I… u-uh… well—”

Hero was patient with the younger one, the corners of their mouth tugging into a small smile. They couldn’t help but recognize themselves in the reflection of their eyes and demeanor.

It was all too familiar.

“I-I can’t be here.” The villain announced, turning on their heel and shuffling quickly down the sleeping street and away from Hero.

A sharp pain in Hero’s heart resonated throughout them, it was dumb, it was so insatiably dumb to feel this way for a kid, for a villain. But the hero just couldn’t help it.

“Hey, Villain!”

Rushing after the criminal, Hero stumbled slightly, mumbling something under their breath about the city needing to rework their sidewalks as they finally caught up. Placing one hand on the villains shoulder to halt them in their escape, Villain froze immediately.

“Hey, relax. I’m not going to arrest you, I just want to talk.” When the villain said nothing in return, still stuck like a statue, Hero further explained themselves. “Look, we haven’t gotten to know each other yet and honestly I’m not very fond of using strangers as punching bags. Walk with me?”

Villain still didn’t move, Hero’s hand sat comfortably on their shoulder as they tousled them slightly. The villain couldn’t help but flinch at that, whimpering just the tiniest bit under their breath that Hero was sure it was simply the sound of passing wind.

“S-So what? You prefer beating on t-the people you know and l-love?”

Hero chuckled, giving the other another soft pat on the shoulder, forcing the villain to pull away entirely as they winced. That seemed... wrong.

“Hah, that’s not what I meant. I’d just like to be something more along the lines of... frenemies? If that’s the right term, it’ll save you some jail time and beatings in the long run, promise.” Hero’s words were playful, but there was an edge this time, they were scanning. Watching the villain’s every move and looking for the inconsistencies in their behavior.

The hero counted one for the way Villains breath hitched when the hero mentioned a beating. The bag slung over their shoulder and the fear in their eyes was starting to solve a puzzle in Hero’s mind, but they were still missing a piece. So they pressed on.

“Thanks, b-but no thanks. I have to go. I-If you’ll excuse me--”

Hero reached out again, “Hold on.” but Villain was slippery. Maneuvering out of the crime-stoppers grasp and bolting down the street.

The hero looked down at the palm of their hand under the dim street lamp, it was softly tainted red, a colour that hadn’t been present before and suddenly Hero was racing after the villain. Chest heaving as they watched the small dark figure ahead of them dart in and between parked vehicles, if Villain decided to take a short-cut Hero would lose them in a second.

They needed to catch up and fast.

Villain continued through the city, searching for an opening, somewhere they could hide or escape their pursuer. But no opportunity presented itself. And with the slow bleeding and re-opening of the wounds across their body and the heavy bag weighing them down, Villain was starting to worry.

Fortunately, their worries were cut short. Unfortunately, it was because Hero had caught up as they slammed into the villain, knocking the air out of their lungs and their feet from the ground. Sending the pair flying as they rolled in a pile to the ground.

The villain screamed as their body crumpled to the floor, it was loud for a second and then silent as they bit into their fist. They couldn’t show weakness, not around Hero.

On the other hand, hero recovered quickly, bouncing up off the ground as they rushed to the villains side. Pinning their arms down as they both struggled to catch their breath, Villain shook like a leaf under their nemesis but that didn’t loosen Hero’s grip.

“Let me g-go!”

Hero glared at their enemy, consequently shutting them up and causing the beginning of tears to brim their eyes.

“You’re coming with me.” Villain opened their mouth to interject, but Hero continued. “And you better not try and bullshit your way out of this. You’re going to explain everything to me on the way back, and that includes why the fuck you are bleeding through your sweatshirt.”

Hero grappled the struggling Villain until they were comfortably stuck in their arms. Holding them tight until the villain yelped and pleaded for mercy.

“Understood?”

The villain had never nodded so fast in their entire life.

587 notes · View notes

bbypedrito · 1 year

Text

Rough | Joel Miller/f!Reader

Joel is a big ‘ol softie about you and your bad pain days and as much as you love his gentleness, sometimes you crave something a little more rough.

rating: explicit, minors DNI

warnings: one shot, established relationship, vaginal fingering, spanking, slight praise kink, joel calls reader a good girl, no y/n or reader descriptions besides references to experiencing reoccurring flare ups of pain. setting is purposefully vague but definitely post-outbreak.

a/n: i genuinely didn’t have ANY plans to write joel anytime soon - i was actually gonna write a marcus pike fic instead - but then the other day i was having a pain flare up and started to think about joel to cheer myself up and things got…self indulgent. i don’t know if it’ll resonate with many other people here but i thought i’d share it anyway :-) this has been my first time ever writing a reader fic, first time writing joel or any pedro character AND my first time writing hetero sex in a very long while so…please bear all of that in mind 🥲

📌 can now also be read on ao3!

“I just don’t like it,” Joel says. It’s about the third time he’s repeated the phrase since you broached the subject this evening, pacing back and forth in your tiny shared room like an agitated wild animal trapped in a cage. His footfalls are heavy, old work boots thudding rhythmically on old floorboards, and you wish the stubborn man would relax for just a second because this is getting ridiculous.

“Joel,“ you try, but he shakes his head.

“Wouldn’t feel right.”

“Joel-“

“Too much risk.”

“Joel!” You grab him by the arm to stop him in his tracks and he immediately stills, finally looking you in the eyes. “I’m asking you to fuck me rough, not perform open heart surgery on me.”

Unamused, he rolls his eyes at your joke. “Might as well be, with all the stress you’re puttin’ me through.” Noticing your face fall, he immediately softens, “I just don’t wanna cause any more hurt than necessary, sweetheart.”

It’s sweet, the way Joel is careful and so, so achingly gentle with you. He knows the pain you’ve been through - still go through - and he always goes the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable.

You learned quickly it’s Joel’s love language - his actions speaking for him rather than words - and it’s downright romantic, in an honest, simple, Joel Miller kinda way. He trades anything he can give to make sure you have painkillers that actually work, always somehow gets his hands on fresh, clean, soft blankets just for you to burrow into when you need rest days in bed and he always seems to know when to give you either the space or the company you need depending on your mood.

And when he takes you to bed, he treats you with such tender care and gentle reverence it makes your chest hurt.

You love it, love him for it and you know it’s one of his ways to show he cares for you too but…God, you want more. You want the man Joel is clearly putting a herculean effort into holding back when he slowly and gently takes you apart. You want him to fuck you, selfishly take his pleasure from you, make you feel every single inch of him with every step you take the next day.

“You won’t hurt me,” you reassure him, “not in a way that’s bad, anyway. I want it. I want you.” You cup his face in your hands, stroking his bearded cheeks with your thumbs. Joel tilts his head just a fraction and leans into your touch with a soft exhale. “Do you trust me?”

“‘Course,” he replies, and you resist the urge to laugh fondly and kiss the frowny crease between his brows because it comes out a touch sulky. You don’t wanna risk wounding the man’s pride at this juncture — not when you feel so close to getting what you want.

“Good,” you lean in to kiss him, both hands splaying on his broad chest, “so trust me when I say,” a nip at his full bottom lip, “I want you to ruin me.”

You pull away slowly and feel victorious when you see Joel’s dark eyes looking back into yours, pupils so dilated they’re almost pitch black. Knowing you’ve just about already won this argument, you decide to stoke the flames further by nuzzling into the thick tendons of his neck and letting your teeth catch on the sensitive skin there. You feel rather than hear the soft groan this pulls from him, the way it rumbles in his chest, and your hands tighten their grip on the soft fabric of his wash-worn shirt.

“What you’re askin’ me for is…I won’t be gentle,” Joel warns.

“Is that a promise?” You tease.

Finally, finally, he starts touching you back, reaching for your hips to pull you in closer and kiss you properly. You moan into his mouth needily and that’s when Joel’s resolve snaps like the string of a bow drawn too far beyond its limits. His hands tighten on your hips before moving down to grab your ass and use it as leverage to press you against his chest and the strain of his cock against his jeans.

“I’m just givin’ you one last chance to back out, sweetheart, that’s all.” His chest is rising and falling heavily, his nostrils flaring and his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen pointed in your direction. He looks half wild and it really shouldn’t turn you on but it does, fuck, so much that you’re delirious with it.

Maintaining eye contact, you grind yourself insistently against him and it’s the final answer Joel seems to need. He curses under his breath, muttering something about you being the death of him before guiding you backwards against the wall and kissing you with such heated fervor your head spins and your pussy pulses with need.

He brackets you in with his arms, bracing himself with hands either side of you on the wall and you gasp when he presses a thigh between your legs for you to shamelessly grind down on through your sleep shorts. The rough denim is only barely the right amount of friction you need and you whine as you grind down harder, trying to relieve the deep ache of arousal in your cunt.

“That’s it,” Joel murmurs between kisses, lips brushing yours. “I got you, baby. Use me just like that.”

You tug him back in for a needy kiss, hands running up his chest to cling to his shoulders, then up again to run through his hair, before back down again to paw uselessly at his shirt. Joel pulls away and huffs with amusement, disentangling from you to undo the buttons so you can hungrily pull it off his broad frame and discard it. Feeling confident — and perhaps a little heated and possessive in the moment — you run your nails down his bare chest, leaving little white lines that turn pink and then red in their wake. Joel inhales sharply, watching you with hooded eyes and you shiver at how nakedly hungry he looks.

He reaches for his belt to unbuckle it, but pauses for half a moment. Seemingly changing his mind, he decides to undress you instead, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head and unhooking your bra. Your head falls backwards against the peeling wallpaper with a soft thunk when Joel harshly pinches at your nipples with rough hands, rolling them between calliused fingers until they’re peaked and swollen. You squirm, sensitive, the sensations going straight to your already soaking wet cunt.

“Please, Joel. Please.” You’re not even sure what it is you’re pleading for, and you whine almost pitifully when Joel stops touching you and takes a step back.

“Turn around and brace yourself against the wall.” His voice is firm and you obey immediately. “Good girl.”

The praise makes your heart and your cunt flutter and you barely have time to catch your breath before Joel abruptly pulls down your shorts and his hand comes smacking down on your ass. You gasp at the sharp shock of it, the sting that immediately warms and blooms into hot pleasure.

Joel chuckles. “This what you wanted?”

“Yes, please, again, please,” you babble, sweaty palms slipping a little against the wall.

“Good girl.” Another smack, a little harder this time, and your hips buckle forwards, trying in vain to seek friction. Joel notices the desperate wiggling of your hips and reaches round you to cup your mound, his other hand running over your reddening ass cheek. “So wet for me already, just from gettin’ spanked like this,” he says, voice rough but hushed as if in awe of your response to him.

All you can do is nod frantically in reply and press yourself greedily against his fingers and he clicks his tongue at your eagerness. Two thick fingers sink inside of you easily and when you try to fuck yourself on them Joel uses his free hand to land another hard smack on your ass.

“Greedy,” he admonishes, “you just can’t wait, can you?” He crooks his fingers, pressing them up against the perfect spot inside of you and lands another hard smack and you moan so loud you’d be embarrassed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

With a murmur of praise and lips pressed hotly to your ear Joel adds a third finger and the tight stretch around him burns and knocks the air out your lungs in a ragged gasp.

“Fuck, Joel,” you whimper, and it spurs him on, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your back arches, hands scrabbling for purchase and you fall forwards slightly to press your forehead against the wall, eyes screwing shut. The wet sound of your slick as Joel fucks you with his fingers and the smack of skin on skin as he spanks you in time with his thrusts fill the room and it’s so obscene your face flushes, heart pounding in your ears.

“Fuck,” Joel moans, “you gonna come for me like this? Pressed up against the wall and all over my fingers?”

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

Joel presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, demanding circles until you buck against him uncontrollably and tighten around him with a cry. He buries his face into your shoulder as your hips shake, fingers still working in and out of you as you ride out your intense orgasm.

Boneless, you slump back against him with a sigh and Joel catches you, wrapping his free arm around your middle. Your cunt is still sporadically pulsing around the fingers still inside and you hold back a whimper when Joel eventually eases them out of you.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks you, pressing soft, fluttery kisses down the side of your neck. The brush of his moustache against your sensitive skin makes you giggle.

“Fucking sublime,” you reply, grinning. In truth, your body is aching and you can feel dull pain starting to thrum in your joints and muscles, but you’re used to that by now and you know you can handle it. Besides, it was definitely worth it. You tilt your head back to look Joel in the eye. “Thank you — for trusting me, I mean. But also the really great orgasm.”

Joel’s lips curl upwards into a fond smile and when his arms tighten affectionately around you his hard cock presses up against your ass. You start to move back against him and he groans low in his throat, but before things can get heated again he turns you around so you’re standing in front of him at arm’s length.

“Not now. Next time,” he promises, bending with a grunt to pick up your clothes and handing them to you. “I don’t wanna push you too hard tonight.”

You can’t hide your pout of disappointment, but when your body protests with twinges of pain when you move to get dressed you concede to yourself that Joel’s right, so you let him gently guide you into bed. You watch surreptitiously from under your cocoon of blankets as Joel undresses down to his boxers and when he catches you looking he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Insatiable creature,” he scolds before settling into bed next to you. You curl yourself around him, tangling your legs with his and pressing your face against his broad shoulder.

“Wake me up if you start hurtin’ any, are we clear?” Joel grumbles into the pillow.

You smile fondly against his warm skin. The rough, slightly wild Joel you got to finally experience tonight was definitely everything you’d been hoping for, but this version of him now, soft around the edges, soft bare skin, sharing a bed with you, this version of himself he’s worked so hard on rediscovering in order to take care of you will always be your favourite.

“I promise.”

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #i am so NERVOUS 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#my fic

266 notes · View notes

luckyfrogtarot · 8 months

Text

Choose a Chungha album

What is going on for you this blue moon?

I love chungha :’) she has such good summer songs imo also I’m so glad summer is almost over because I’m melting here 🫠

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only. Sometimes piles won’t resonate and that’s okay this reading might not be for you or the pile might not be for you. You can choose a different pile if that’s the case. ❤️🍀

This time I pulled some oracle cards for you guys!

Pile 1: Falling Angel and Empty Well

This pile has to be careful of not falling down the wrong rabbit hole. If there is something that’s calling to you but it’s not in your best interest please take time to reevaluate as to why this calls to you. You might also be feeling empty and a little out of it. You could really use some rest and some time to yourself. It’s possible that if you like to go out to party maybe opt to have a night in at least one day a week to replenish yourself instead. Talking about parties please be careful of certain people and friends who encourage you to do things that might not be in your highest good. Too much drinking or staying out too late. Nothing too horrible here, but your body wants rest and you seem to not be giving it any/much. There is definitely a feeling here of avoidance. You’re avoiding a spiritual calling and/or rest. You could be avoiding through partying or even working for some of you. (I swear I don’t hate parties, it’s just what comes to mind). Partying can be good and fun, yet I’m seeing that if it is disrupting any plans that are for your betterment you might have to start putting down some harsh boundaries with others. I’m sensing it’s mostly with others because they want to distract you. It’s not intentional and these people aren’t bad either. You could want to study or work but others might not or they have more free time so they think that you do too. Pile 1 please prioritize yourself if you’re tired. I’m feeling as if your guides are really wanting you to listen to them about rest and focusing on yourself. Sometimes you might feel it too so please take a moment when you sense this. For a few of you this could be about working too much, but I’m sensing it’s very few of you. The message still stand though; rest is required!

Pile 2: Spirit of the River (I haven’t started but you guys have such cute energy!)

You guys were definitely lucky this summer or your gonna be feeling really lucky after this blue moon. So many positive (imo) cards! I mentioned you guys had cute energy because it feels like you guys are fun and sweet when you aren’t focused on something serious. You might laugh a lot or really like cute things (sanrio or coquettish like stuff). Yet when you have some goal in your sights you guys can be very focused and determined, it’s impressive to others (including me). You could also have a fresh image, like the photo you chose. I don’t know, you guys have some really light watery energy like a clear pool. Moving on with the reading though I’m sensing that you guys might be a little resistant this season, due to confusion. You could be at a crossroads or stalemate on a lot of things in your life around this blue moon. There is movement coming soon though you just have to let it flow. A lot of blue and water symbolism here! You could have planted a seed and your waiting for it to grow. This seed could have been anything from a career move to even romance. You just have to water it everyday and it’ll grow. In a literal sense you just have to put in work everyday (even if it’s just a little bit) so you can see the plant growing, slowly but surely. I am sensing that once you finish the work that was necessary you should go out and play a bit. I’m sensing being around water will be great. Going to the beach or a pond or a pool. You do need some fun distractions. (This is like the opposite of pile 1) It will distract you from the seed you planted or in other words: your work, project or romantic interest. You might need time to focus on other stuff that brings you joy and to let things flow. If you are always checking up every minute or every hour on your seed/plant you’ll think “why isn’t it growing?”. That’s because the plant still needs time and work put into it! It will grow soon enough pile 2! Give it time and love and don’t forget to give yourself time and love too. You’re moving towards your success regardless don’t forget that. I really hope that metaphor made sense pile 2!

Pile 3: Eye of the Needle

Pile 3 you guys are going to be getting a big opportunity that you’ve been waiting for! Something that you felt was almost like a dream or so far away is coming towards you. It feels like when it does come in you’ll think it’s luck or fate. It partially could be fate, but I’m sensing it’s more your perseverance and hard work. You could’ve been working really hard to get this opportunity and you never took your eyes off of it and now you’re getting it. It was due to your hard work pile 3 don’t undermine yourself! Lot’s of gold and yellow in this pile. You even have the Sun card here. A lot of sun imagery in the other cards too! Maybe you feel hopeful that things are getting better for you. Like this triumphant feeling mixed with being able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I do think whatever you’re pursuing or whatever opportunity you have is going to be successful. With the Seven of Wands here,to me, that reaffirms that you definitely worked day and night to get this opportunity. This is an exciting emotion coming through. I’m also hearing “it’s smooth sailing from here on out” I don’t know if that’s how the saying really goes but the point is that your hard work has allowed this for you. It’s as if you made a boat by scratch (and a good one at that) so now all you have to do is sail it. The waters are calm and there is also enough breeze to keep you going. There is an intensity to you and maybe in your eyes. Either this is the look you have when you think about your success or your future. Or this a feature you might naturally have at all times. You’re very strong willed though that’s for sure. I’m seeing that if you feel like no one is proud of you or of your success/accomplishments or of this opportunity you’d be mistaken. It’s possible people here aren’t showing their amazement, but without a doubt your guides do acknowledge all your hard work. They’ve been watching you and helping you out and they’re very proud of you 🥺. I also feel such a warm feeling in my chest so this could be how you’re feeling or how you should feel! You have a right to feel proud of yourself too pile 3 :).

#tarot #spirituality #divination #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #chungha #blue moon #luckyfrog #luckyfrogtarot

111 notes · View notes

marie-swriting · 6 months

Text

Anything Serious - Natasha "Phoenix" Trace

Masterlist

Summary : Three times you flirt with Natasha and one time, you confess your feelings.

Warnings : Angst, happy ending, alcohol consumption (be careful with your acohol consumption), thowing up, drunk confession, implied sex but noting explicit, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 4.7k

French version

Song inspiration : Flirting With Her by Sir Babygirl

“Here to being single !” you yell before taking a shot with your two friends Sarah and Alison.

The sound of your glass being put down on the table resonates in the bar. The alcohol burns your throat but you still let go of a victory scream. Tonight, you’re celebrating your single life like you just screamed.

You were in a relationship for the past three years before your ex broke up with you for someone else who, apparently, is better than you. You’re not going to lie, a week ago, you were a mess. You were inconsolable, you only left your home for work and you’d stay in front of the TV doing nothing. Fortunately, thanks to your best friend’s encouragement, you realised it was her loss, not yours. That’s why you want to celebrate the fact that you’re single and without any string attached.

“I’m finally gonna be able to do things I’ve always wanted to do and it’ll be easy.” you announce with joy. “I’m gonna have fun, go out as much as I want without any drama. You were right, Sarah, this is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me. And I am telling you two, I’m gonna have so much fun…” you continue while your eyes find a woman with raven hair, “with her, for example. She is beautiful.”

“Well, the single phase would have been long.” Alison laughs as you keep looking at the woman.

“Who said I wanted to date again?”

“You’ve just fallen for her.”

“So what ? It doesn’t mean it has to be serious.”

“But you only do serious relationships.” Sarah contradicts.

“Not anymore.” you state before ordering a new shot.

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Totally! She’s in the Navy,” you explain, pointing at her uniform, “so she won’t be here for too long, in other words, if it goes right then perfect and if it goes wrong, then I won’t have to worry about seeing her again. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Then, go shoot your shot !” Alison encourages.

“Sure do !” you exclaim before drinking your shot.

You make sure your outfit is put together before going to the bar under your friends’ encouragement. First, you talk to Penny and pay for a cocktail. You patiently wait for Penny to give it to the woman and explain to her it’s from you. Once Penny goes to another client, the raven-haired woman’s eyes land on you while she smiles and takes a sip of the drink. You take this as a good sign so you stand up and go sit next to her.

“Thanks for the cocktail. Good choice.” she comments, drinking a bit more.

“Glad you like it. I’m Y/N and you?”

“Natasha.”

“What’s your callsign?”

Natasha looks at you, surprised, not expecting this would be a detail you were interested in.

“Phoenix.” Natasha informs with a confident smile.

“I bet your callsign suits you well.”

“You tell me. What brings you here tonight?” she questions, intrigued.

“I’m just enjoying my new freedom and you?”

“Nothing special, I’m relaxing after my day at work.”

“You’re here on a deployment?”

“Yes, I’m only here for two weeks. I want to make the best out of it.”

“As do I.” you state with a flirty smile. “You should join my friends and I. We’re gonna play darts. You’re more than welcome.”

“I will.”

You smile at Natasha then go back to your friends, your mouth wide open, simulating a scream of joy. Your friends ask you a lot of questions as soon as you’re at the table with them again and you answer them without wasting a second.

“I’m telling you, by the end of this night, I have her number, at least !”

And you’ve had even more.

The next day, you wake up in an unknown bedroom, Natasha’s arms around your waist. Understanding you didn’t go home after your intimate moment, you mentally insult yourself. You don’t know if you should wait for her to wake up or leave now. You debate with yourself for a few seconds before coming to the conclusion it’s better to run away now, especially because you have some work waiting for you.

Slowly, you get out of Natasha’s grip and pick your clothes off the floor. Hastily, you get dressed before walking to the exit. When you’re about to open the door, you sigh in relief when Natasha’s voice comes behind you. You jump and turn around, facing her with your hand on your heart.

“I didn’t think you were the kind to sneak off.” she laughs.

“Oh, well, I was thinking you wouldn’t want me at your place for any longer. Actually, I…” you try to explain before admitting defeat, “I have to confess I don't know the rules for one night-stands. It’s the first time I do this.”

“Glad to be the first. And for your information, it can differ with the person though, personally, I don’t mind if you want to stay.”

“Got it. But I have to go. I have work to do.” you inform, sad to leave her so soon.

“No worries. Are you gonna go out like this?”

Following her question, you look down at your outfit, not understanding her critic. Sure, one can tell it’s not a typical Sunday outfit however, it doesn’t look ugly. You don’t see the problem. Phoenix leaves the bed before opening her closet.

“It’s cold in the morning. Here, you can take my jacket.” she says, handing the piece of cloth.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to give it back before you leave.”

“It’s okay. At least, I’ll have an excuse to send you a text when I’ll be around again.”

“Thanks for the jacket then.”

Natasha gives you a tender smile while you put the jacket on ; you don’t move for a few seconds, admiring her face one last time before leaving. You want to memorise her face because, no matter if she said she’ll text you when she’ll come back, you doubt it. You flirted, you matched, you had a nice moment but it’s only a one-time thing ; you don’t think you’re ready to start anything.

As soon as you tear your eyes away from Natasha, you zip up the jacket before opening the door. Natasha asks you to send her a message once you get home. You promise her to do it then, you leave.

And the second you come home, you grab your phone before informing her:

Message from you to Natasha, 7:36 A.M.:

I’m safe and at home. Thanks for the jacket, I promise I’ll give you back when you’ll be here again…

Or not ;)

Six months have passed since your meeting with Natasha. After your text when you came home, she simply replied “Glad to know you’re home. See you again :)” then nothing. You couldn’t have expected anything else. After all, you only shared one night together. But still, you feel a pinch in your chest, realising her lack of messages.

Therefore, you do everything to leave this story behind you. Even if you randomly met her, nothing would happen, that was for sure. You need to go back to your peaceful life where you’ve been picking some new habits. One of them being going to the Hard Deck once a week with your friends. Contrary to when you were younger, now you enjoy a good night out, having fun with your loved ones, an alcoholic drink in your hands. You’ve met some new people though, nothing that could compete with what you felt the second you saw Natasha.

This weekend is not different from the others, you find yourself at the bar. You’re laughing with your friends when a waitress comes to give you a cocktail you didn’t order. When she tells you someone paid for it and you see Natasha from afar, you can’t believe your eyes. You didn’t think you’d see her again. She gives you a sign with her own drink before taking a sip. You give her back her sign and drink.

Next to Natasha, Bradley looks at her and sighs, desperate by the situation.

“You should talk to her instead of staying at a stupid safe distance.”

“We haven’t seen each other for six months, I just wanted to make sure she was still interested before doing something.”

“Now you know she does, go talk to her.” he orders, trying to push her in your direction.

“She’s with her friends.”

“And it didn’t bother her last time to talk to you. I don’t get it, Natasha, you’ve never been like this before.”

“I know!” she exclaims, mad at herself. “And I hate how I’m overthinking this. I feel like you.”

“Well, thanks! It wasn’t even serious between you two, you shouldn’t think too much about it. Go talk to her.”

“And tell her what?”

“I don’t know! I’m not the one who had a one-night stand with her. If you don’t want to talk to her, invite her to dance.” Bradley proposes, annoyed.

“No one is dancing.”

“In less than a minute, it won’t be the case anymore. Go to her, I’m handling the rest.”

Natasha drinks her glass in one go before walking to you with a fake confidence expression on her face. As for Bradley, he’s walking towards the piano, waiting for the right moment to start playing.

You’re talking with Sarah who is in front of you when Alison catches your attention by hitting your ribs. You look at your friend, brows furrowed whilst she makes a sign to look at the other side. At the same moment you’re turning your head, Natasha is in front of you and Bradley starts playing Great Ball Of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis. Instantly, people start dancing and Natasha gives you her hand with a smile.

“Wanna dance ?”

As a simple answer, you take her hand, you stand up from your chair and follow Natasha who is bringing you to the piano, your friends on your heels. You sing alone with Bradley while Natasha and you dance without a care in the world. You’re laughing and spinning each other until the last note of the song.

Once Bradley finishes singing, Natasha keeps your hand in hers. You stare at each other with a huge smile on your face.

“I didn’t know you were back. You haven’t texted me.” you state, still surprised.

“I was going to, I’ve just arrived.”

“How long are you here for?”

“Three weeks.”

“So we have a bit more time. We should make up for the lost time. I hope I’ll be able to give you back your jacket, though I have to admit, I’d like to keep it, but you can always come to my place to try to have it back.” you propose with a flirty look.

“I will. At least, this time, I’ll be sure you won’t be sneaking off.” Natasha laughs and you roll your eyes, faking being mad.

“You’re never gonna let this go, are you?”

“I won’t.”

In spite of yourself, your heart melts when you look at Natasha’s mischievous smile. You don’t want to admit it but you missed her. You really thought you had forgotten about her, you were far from the truth. Yet, it seems like you weren’t the only one. You’re glad to see you’ve affected her as much as she’s affected you, though you didn’t want to grow attached to someone that quickly.

However, you leave your mixed feelings behind you for the rest of the night, enjoying this moment with Natasha and getting to know her a bit more.

Like six months ago, after some flirty comments, Natasha finds her way in your bed, your arms around her body.

Message from Natasha to you, 9:05 P.M.:

Hey, I’m back in town. Are you free tonight?

You look at Natasha’s text for several minutes, not knowing what to answer. You are, indeed, free tonight though, you don’t know if it’s a good idea. Since your reunion at the Hard Deck three months ago, you’ve seen each other several times and you have to confess your feelings for her are getting stronger.

At first, you thought it was just an innocent crush, however, she haunts your mind and you’re just waiting for the moment where you’ll see her again. Sure, your relationship is more physical than emotional but you’re gladly taking anything she wants to give you. Despite of yourself, she’s managed to leave her name on your lips and you yearn for the feeling of her body in your arms. You wish you could have more, though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t. You should keep your distance with Natasha, it’d be better. Like this, you’ll avoid a heartbreak again, especially considering your relationship is non-existent.

You have to lie to her and say you can’t see her. It’s better for you. That’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to stay far away from her.

You didn’t stay far away from her for long.

Without knowing how, you found yourself in Natasha’s hotel room, your clothes found themselves on the floor and you found each other in the bed. A part of you is cursing at you for not listening to your rational side but currently, it’s the least of your worries.

In Natasha’s arms, you discuss several things and you realise if given a chance, you could have a beautiful love story. You have a lot of things in common and your views about the world and the future are similar. You could have had a great future with Natasha. However, after every intimate moment spent together, Natasha reminds you that it’ll never be more than nights shared together.

“I’m glad we’ve met, you know,” Natasha starts, holding you tighter against her, “because of my work, it’s always been complicated to form relationships but with you, it’s easy, peaceful. We don’t want anything serious so what we have is enough.”

“Yes, it's good. I’m enjoying every moment of my single life for the first time.” you affirm, hiding your disappointment.

“You know, the day you’ll meet someone who’s worth it, you can tell me. I’ll understand if you don’t want us to talk anymore.”

“Same goes for you.”

“You don’t have to worry about this.”

“You don’t want a serious relationship? Like, ever?” you question, looking her right in the eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want one, it’s just that it’s easier like this. I could never truly give to the other person the relationship they’d deserve so I don’t want to waste my time. Besides, long-distance relationships aren’t my thing and I can’t ask for the person to give everything up for me.” she states like it was obvious.

“But some people find a right balance between work and their lovelife.”

“You’re right. I just don’t know if I’ll find the right person one day.”

Hearing her sentence, your heart tightens in your chest. Natasha just gave you a good reminder. You really have to distance yourself from her. She doesn’t want anything serious and even if she wanted to, you’re not a person she fancies. She looked you right in the eyes and told you she hasn’t found the person worth having a relationship with.

You’re holding back your tears as best as you can while your eyes are on hers. As soon as you realise you won’t be able to do it any longer, you clear your throat before getting up from the bed and picking up your stuff from the floor.

“I…I have to go. I'm going to work early tomorrow.” you inform, putting on your tee-shirt.

“We can go to sleep now if you want.”

“No, I need to get home. I don’t have my stuff here.”

“Can we see each other in the next few days?”

“I don’t think so, I’m quite busy,” you lie, zipping up the fly of your pants. “I… bye.” you stutter.

You don’t give Natasha the time to say goodbye to you and run away from her hotel room. You search for your car keys in your bag as the tears are gathering in your eyes. They start running down your cheeks once you leave the parking lot.

You knew it. You knew it would end up in a heartbreak if you continued and it didn’t stop you. Why do you have such a fragile heart? Why do you have to get attached to people so easily? Why can’t you keep an emotional distance? Natasha seems to handle things just fine so why not you?

Once you’re at home, your tears have stopped though, your cheeks are still wet. You get ready to go to sleep and before you can lay down on your bed, you take your phone. You’re about to open your contacts when you get a text from Natasha.

Message from Natasha to you, 00:30 A.M.:

I hope we’ll have more time next time :)

You don’t have the strength to answer. Reluctantly, you delete the conversation and her number - not without doubting for several seconds. You put down your phone and try to fall asleep despite your heart being broken into a thousand pieces.

Four months have passed since your last time with Natasha and you are more or less over it.

Except if you consider your current state, you could say you’re still hurting. Saying you were drunk would be an understatement. You don't know how many drinks you’ve had but you know if you try to walk, you’ll fall. And all of this because of one damn message. Technically, you could have disregarded it. You don’t have Natasha’s number anymore so the sender was shown as an unknown number and the text wasn’t saying anything special. Her text was a simple and innocent “hey 😘” but it was enough for you to know who it was and to hurt you even more. You felt like you were finally moving on and your reaction proves you it was just a feeling.

You’re alone at the table even if you came with your friend Sarah. She’s currently dancing with a man she just met. At first, she didn’t want to leave you alone, knowing you were drowning your sorrows. However, you promised her she could have fun without feeling guilty whilst you were ordering your sixth drink.

You’re staring at your hands who are holding your drink while you’re lost in your thoughts. You should have never started this fling with Natasha. This sentence is playing continually in your mind since you left the hotel room four months ago.

The day after your last time, you went to meet your friends and you told them how sad you were whilst they were holding you in their arms. Both of them affirmed you had to move on, the very thought you feared. A part of you was hoping they’d encourage you to fight for your potential story with Natasha. Unfortunately, your friends were realistic.

You slowly keep drinking when you feel a presence next to you. Turning your head, you find Natasha and you think maybe you shouldn’t finish your drink. You’re in such an inebriated state that you start having hallucinations. You didn’t think it was possible.

“Hey, how are you?”

Maybe it’s not a hallucination after all. Natasha’s voice seems real.

“Oh, hi!” you exclaim, trying to be casual.

“I take this as it’s not your first drink.”

“Well, it’s possible. Probable.”

“Don’t you think you should go home? Did you come alone?” she questions, searching for one of your friends.

“With Sarah.”

“Do you want me to bring you home?”

“No, I’m gonna wait for Sarah.” you quickly reply, remembering you need to keep your distance.

“She seems busy.” Natasha notes, looking at your friend. “Wait here.”

Natasha walks away from you and goes to Sarah before you can’t stop her. You see her talking and your friend looking at you before reluctantly nodding. Quickly, Natasha comes back to you and takes your drink away from your hands. You’re about to complain when she helps you to stand up.

“Come on, we’re going home.”

“But I have to go home with Sarah.” you oppose.

“I told her I’ll bring you home.” she informs, surprising you.

“She agreed?”

You wouldn’t have thought Sarah would have accepted, knowing she keeps saying how you absolutely have to forget Natasha. Your state must be more pathetic than you thought.

“Considering how drunk you are, we agreed it’d be better to bring you home now. Come on.”

You don’t have the strength to fight back so you give in and follow Natasha in her car. Once you’re buckled up, Natasha starts the vehicle. Your head resting against the car window, you contemplate the night, your mind all fuzzy.

After a few minutes, you tear your gaze away from the night sky and look at Natasha. You admire every inch of her skin whilst she’s focused on the road.

“You really are beautiful.” you state straight away.

“Oh, huh, thanks.” Natasha replies, embarrassed.

“How can you be so beautiful? And that’s not it! You’re also intelligent, funny and you have so many other qualities.”

“Why do I feel like you’re accusing me of something?” she asks, hearing your tone full of reproach.

“Because if you were less perfect it’d be easier.”

“I’m far from perfect. And what do you mean by ‘it’d be easier’?”

“Stop the car.” you retort, feeling the need to throw up.

“What?”

“Stop the car! Pull up!”

She just has the time to stop the car that you’re already outside. You can only take two steps before throwing up. Natasha quickly comes behind you and holds back your hair. Once you’ve finished vomiting, you breathe for a few seconds before standing up, a shameful expression on your face.

“Sorry, that was not sexy.”

“It’s okay. You’re feeling any better?” she worries, examining your face.

“Puking helped.”

“Here.” Natasha says, giving you a tissue. “I think I have a bottle of water in my car and some mints, do you want some?”

“Yes, please.”

While you’re wiping your mouth, Natasha goes to grab the bottle and the mints. As soon as she hands you the bottle, you rinse your mouth before taking a mint. You don’t move for a few minutes, wanting to make sure your stomach won’t empty itself again.

“You feel ready to go?” she questions, stroking your cheek.

“I think so but drive slowly, it’s safer.”

“Tell me if you need to stop again.”

Delicately, Natasha takes your hand and accompanies you to the car. This time, you stay silent the whole ride. You’re focused on the landscape and Natasha doesn’t dare to disturb your mind. As the road goes on, your eyelids get heavier and you end up falling asleep.

The moment Natasha arrives at your place, she slowly wakes you up. You lightly groan before opening your eyes. Natasha helps you to go to your door whilst you’re still asleep on your feet. She brings you to your bathroom where she helps you to get ready to go to bed - and where you can finally brush your teeth. You get into your bed whilst Natasha carefully puts the sheet on you. She’s about to leave when you squeeze her hand.

“Stay.” you mutter with sleepy eyes. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m staying here, I’m just gonna sleep on the couch.”

“Please, stay with me.” you insist, trying to bring her to you.

“Are you sure about this?”

As a simple answer, you nod. Natasha takes her shoes and her pants off, leaving her only with her underwear and her tee-shirt, before joining you in the bed. Laying down next to you, you search for Natasha’s hand. She understands what you want and puts her hand on your waist, pressing your back against her torso. At her touch, you let go of a peaceful sigh.

“By the way, I really need to give you your jacket back.” you say with a sleepy voice. “I can’t keep it just like I shouldn’t have you this close to me.” you resume, making her frown. “I care about you, you know. More than I should. I like you, Nat’.”

Upon these words, you fall asleep. Behind you, Natasha wonders if she heard you right and more specifically if you meant it. After all, it might just be the effect of alcohol? Though, she can’t stop a smile from forming on her face before holding you closer to her.

The following morning, you wake up with one of the biggest hangovers you’ve ever had. You’ve definitely reached the age where you can’t drink as much without the after-effects. You slowly open your eyes, fearing the daylight might burn them. Thankfully, there is just enough light to see without hurting you. Glancing at your night stand, you find a glass of water and a medicine which you take without an ounce of hesitation after you sit down.

As soon as you put down the glass, the bathroom door opens on Natasha, making your eyebrows furrowed. You don’t recall going home with her. Seeing the panic in your eyes, Natasha gets closer to you with a reassuring smile.

“Nothing happened. I just helped you to get home.”

“Oh, okay. What about Sarah? Does she know…”

“She knows, yes. I warned her before we left. How are you feeling today?” Natasha asks, sitting in front of you in the bed.

“Like I had too much to drink last night.” you laugh and she does the same.

“I can imagine. Do you remember anything about last night?”

“Huh, some parts, but…”

You stop mid-sentence as you try to remember what happened. Some moments are more blurry than the others, however one of them is very clear. Your confession before you fell asleep. The heat gets to your cheeks and your hands get clammy. You hope with your whole heart Natasha didn’t hear anything. However, her pointing look makes you understand your hopes are vain.

“Tell me I didn’t say that. Can we pretend like I didn’t say anything?”

“Why?” she asks, confused.

“Because it’s embarrassing and because it could never work between us.”

“Who said it couldn’t work?”

“You did.” you state as if it was obvious. “You said you didn’t want a serious relationship or a long distance one.”

“Is that why you haven’t been answering my texts?”

“What would have come out of it anyway? Besides breaking my heart.” you say, avoiding her gaze. “I know I told you I didn’t want anything serious when we started seeing each other and it was true at first but I like spending time with you, being next to you, listening to you talk even though I know I shouldn’t. I should have stopped what we had when my feelings changed. I’d understand if you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” you whisper, tearing up.

“Y/N…” she starts, taking your hand. “I’m sorry for giving you the impression I didn’t want you. I panicked the second I realised my feelings for you. I thought you didn’t want anything serious so I kept my distance whilst staying close to you and in doing so I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry. But I do want a serious relationship with you. No matter if there is the distance, I want to try with you because you’re worth it. I care about you.” Natasha confesses, making you look up at her.

“Don’t say this to make me feel better. I was drunk when I said it and-”

Natasha’s lips are on yours before you can add another word. Surprised, you need a second before kissing her back. Natasha’s hands find their way to your hips whilst yours get lost in her hair. You kiss each other for a few seconds before breaking the kiss. You keep your eyes closed for a bit longer, enjoying the feeling. It might not be your first kiss with Natasha yet, this one feels different from the ones you shared before.

“Do you believe me now when I tell you I like you too or do you need more proof?”

“I think I need more proof, yes.” you smile with heart eyes.

“Well, in that case…” Natasha resumes before pressing her lips on yours once more.

Masterlist

48 notes · View notes