#I wrote this one in halves

[incesthemes]

there's a somewhat subtle but notable development i've noticed in sam between seasons 1 and 2, in that he becomes much more willing to lie to the people he's trying to help—he starts finding lies a practical necessity and the truth about the supernatural as something to avoid in polite society.

in bugs, sam urges matt to tell his father about the curse, make him understand the severity, while dean instructs him to lie his ass off so his father will get the hell out of the house. this episode favors dean here: larry obviously doesn't buy the curse story, and it's proven to sam that the truth can in fact be more harmful than a lie.

then by salvation, sam seems to have integrated into himself that lying is necessary: when he proposes that they tell monica and her husband the truth, that a demon is coming for their baby, it's a joke. dean registers this joke with a sardonic grin and sam instantly agrees this is a Bad Idea. he's learned from his mistakes.

the development across season 1 is, here, that lying is necessary for them to do their job. people don't believe in supernatural phenomena, at least not insofar as it pertains to themselves, and they'd sooner get arrested than do any actual saving of the day.

case in point.

all this to say i think roadkill is an interesting episode. much of the conflict between sam and dean centers around what information to disseminate to molly, what she should know and what she shouldn't. they go back and forth trying to figure this out, often unprepared for her questions and hiding the truth in obfuscations and white lies. neither of them are so cruel as to tell her anything blatantly false, but neither of them are willing to tell her the full, unadorned truth.

sam has learned his lesson: he keeps everything he tells her in the realm of plausible deniability, refracted through layers of half-truths that don't actually tell molly anything about her situation. even though he is the one who outright proposes that they tell her the truth, he is the one who, surprisingly, ends up telling her the least.

instead dean is the one who offers up the most blatant truths throughout most of the episode. in this sequence, sam even resists the truth, still convinced that obfuscation is what will further their goals most. the truth will make people think they're crazy, it'll get in the way of doing their job. he's not wrong, either:

and until the end of the episode, he continues to bury the full truth and speaks in roundabout ways to keep it from her.

many such examples.

anyway, what i also find interesting about this is that while sam commits to this lesson he learned in season 1, dean is rather forthcoming about the truth. clearly he doesn't like the idea of telling molly what's going on, but he's still quite often the one to offer up a plain, truthful explanation over sam's much nicer obfuscations. which is a little strange, considering he is the one who typically pressures sam into lying and constantly reminds him of the value in lies. not that dean has never cut the crap and offered up the truth—there are plenty of episodes where he does just that—but since a major conflict of this episode centers around this point of contention and since dean has already expressed his unwillingness to tell molly the truth, i can't help but raise an eyebrow.

what this episode also does, however, is parallel molly and sam. similar to maggie in playthings, molly is a monster by circumstance, lonely and afraid. she functions as an allegory for sam as his destiny develops and his fears about his impending doom heighten, and when sam speaks to her he is also speaking to himself, about himself.

ultimately, i think this indicates a development on dean's part, as well. after croatoan and hunted, dean has no more secrets to keep from sam, and he's chosen him as his codependent life partner. more or less, he's "taking responsibility for himself" by abandoning his duty and devoting himself entirely to sam. and sam values the truth: he's resistant to lying to civilians about the supernatural and only reluctantly gives up after a full season of grappling with it, and when it comes to his brother one of the first demands he makes of dean in season 2 is that they no longer keep secrets from each other (it's their major point of conflict between 2x02 and 2x04, after all). it's easily deduced that this stems from his life of exclusion, and it's understandable that sam wouldn't want dean to keep secrets from him now that they've evolved their relationship into codependency. and now that dean has abandoned his duty for sam, dean can eschew the life of secrets and exclusion he's been both knowingly and unknowingly implicit in up until now.

so if molly is sam, then dean telling molly the truth seems to indicate an olive branch of sorts. it's an indication that even if he doesn't want to, dean will tell sam the truth—he's fully committed to the relationship, especially after born under a bad sign where he reasserts his commitment to sam above all else. i think it's a nice symbolic gesture to indicate his character growth. the honeymoon phase that takes place between hunted and what is and what should never be do a lot to explore how their relationship can grow in weirdly positive ways that we really don't see again until like—god, like season 10, and their only barrier to bliss for this stretch of time is sam's all-encompassing existential angst trying to pull them apart (unsuccessfully so, until all hell breaks loose).

but all that said, i think the way truths and lies are explored in roadkill are indicators not only of their own personal developments, but also their developments with each other. molly functions as the conduit through which sam is explored—both dean's relationship to sam and sam's relationship to himself. she reveals what sam fears and what sam values, and she showcases how time has passed for sam and dean and what that time has done for them. sam has learned the necessity of a lie, but he keeps his lies as close to the truth as possible, laced in obfuscation and omission. dean has learned the value of the truth, at least when it comes to his brother, and even if he knows it's dangerous and stupid to tell the truth he will put himself out there anyway, for sam's sake.

i don't know. i think it's interesting.

[bisaster-energy]

im so incredibly willing to talk about this can anybody hear me literally i will over share about about this to anyone who will listen

[buttercup-barf]

So anyway, that one artwork by Sock.clip of the twins as the Sun and the Moon, yeah? ... Isn't it kinda funny. The implication that the twins would only get to see each other during eclipses. The idea that they'd only get to talk for a short while. The inevitability of their separation.

Isn't it funny how agonising that would be?

[lestatslestits]

I’ve only had like three hours of sleep and I have to be up in approximately an hour and I do NOt feel well, but also I just came up with a good opening line for a fanfiction so like. Do you see my problem here.

[caswellseyes]

string lights and sleepovers

okay so once upon a time, like literally ages ago, i reblogged this fun prompt list and wrote all but one prompt i was sent. then Stuff Happened irl and i kind of stopped writing for a little bit entirely, which was not great, but i'm back now!

this is for @michelangelinden, who requested  “you looked pretty lonely in there, how about a sleepover in my room tonight?” for willex! i'm sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it! the full thing is over on my ao3, i'll put a link in the reblogs!

Sometimes, when it’s late at night, Alex stares at his wall and wonders when his wallpaper will come to life.

Okay, it sounds weird when you say it like that. He’s not a young woman on bed rest in a Gothic story, after all. Wallpaper coming to life doesn’t tend to happen often. Not to him, at least. No, what Alex means is just that sometimes, he can’t sleep even though he knows he should, and instead of letting himself freak out about that too much, he rolls to his side and starts a staring contest with the fake bricks on his wall and imagines them coming loose one by one and building a tiny castle around his bed so he’ll never have to leave again. 

See? It sounds at least a little bit less concerning like that. Maybe. Hopefully.

A light knock on the door startles Alex out of his thoughts. He blinks. Looks like the wall wins that round.

Alex sits up and turns toward the door, looking at the silhouette standing in the door opening.

“Hey,” Willie says, voice pitched low. He sounds sleepy, leaning against Alex’s doorframe. Looks sleepy, too, with his hair gathered in a loose braid and his sleep clothes rumpled. “You okay?”

“Sure,” Alex replies automatically. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Even in the dim lighting of his bedroom, Alex can see the eyebrow Willie raises at that. It makes him smile. Willie always sees right through him.

[applebunch]

far more compelling for me than the fact that narrators can time-travel is the reason WHY narrators can time-travel. in-universe acknowledgement of "nothing in their universe exists outside of the things that are 'on mic'". if it isn't in an episode, it didn't actually happen. that's an actual rule that exists in the story. it has been canonized.

the stamatis's parents never spent a second alive. gemma and charlotte never actually had their wedding. every single character has only existed as far back as their flashbacks can throw them. and that's IF they have flashbacks! flashbacks are not common! leon dragging michael out of the bar didn't get a flashback, so it didn't happen! like not in just the implicit way that applies to all characters in all stories, that's an in-universe rule!

but what's really getting me is this:

greater boston starts with leon killing himself. it starts because he kills himself. the foundation of the story is leon's death on the roller coaster. that's why everything else happens. leon's death makes something in their strange world into a story worth telling. the story is the only medium through which their world is allowed to exist.

leon's death is what brought their world into existence.

or, fun reversal, the world was created SO leon could die in it, which would then create a story intriguing enough to justify the existence of the rest of the world.

huh.

[bklynsboys]

The Theory on Other Halves

pairing: spencer reid x reader summary: "there's an old buddhist saying, i once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making." genre: fluff word count: 1k author's notes: i wrote this because this particular line of spencer's is one of my absolute favorites! i think it's really beautiful how all of the people we love were meant to be in our lives since 500 years ago. and of course, as a fan of space & constellations, i had to insert it into this fic. enjoy <3

THE AIR HUNG HEAVY WITH THE AFTERMATH OF A PARTICULARLY BRUTAL CASE—TYPICAL FOR A DAY IN THE BAU. Dust specks danced in the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the blinds. Hotch decided it'd be best to give the team a few hours to rest in the motel before heading back home. If it were up to you, you'd be back in your bed as soon as humanly possible, but rooming with the resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid—the object of your unspoken affections—is an opportunity you wouldn't miss.

For months, the two of you have shared a silent dance of exchanged glances and shared interests. Your colleagues, particularly the girls whom you confided in, seemed to think it was mutual. Now, you sat across from each other on motel beds, a comfortable silence blanketing the room. You traced a thoughtful finger along the rim of your empty coffee cup.

"You have a constellation," he said softly, breaking the stillness.

Your gaze flicked to Spencer, then down to your arm where his hand had landed. A faint scattering of moles dotted the inside of your forearm, resembling a modicum of stars. A small smile tugged at your lips.

"Looks like Ursa Major," he mused, tracing the pattern with his finger. "Though perhaps a little worse for wear, and without the usual bright light, of course."

You chuckled, mirroring his action on your arm. There, nestled just below your elbow, was a crescent moon birthmark, a surprise you always enjoyed revealing.

"Here's another one," you offered.

He turned his hand, examining the crescent with a childlike curiosity. " It's beautiful," he said simply.

"Did you know," Spencer added softly, his voice barely a murmur, "that the ancient Greek saw Ursa Major as a bear?"

You tilted your head, surprised by the random fact. " A bear?"

A smile played on his lip. " Apparently, the constellation's asterism resembled the animal to them. Makes you wonder what they saw in the night sky that we don't."

"Well, my mom had a different take on that," you began, a fond memory surfacing. " She used to say my moon and stars meant I'd meet a space nerd someday who'd love these marks, and we'd be orbiting each other, kind of like the Earth and the sun. She was into soulmates, you see, and space."

The conversation flowed easily, a map of your bodies sketched through shared stories. You pointed to a jagged scar on your knee, the fading memory of you running around and ending up with a scrape on your knee. He, in turn, showed you the faint line on his palm, a souvenir from a particularly enthusiastic attempt at a science experiment as a child.

Your fingers trailed down the faint scar near his hairline, so faint one wouldn't notice it if they weren't looking at Spencer's face intently. "What's this from?" you asked gently.

Spencer chuckled. " You know, how I have really bad coordination?" He sighed. " I was lost in a book, I ran straight into a doorpost. My mom called me 'Crash' after that."

You squeezed his hand gently, a silent understanding passing between you. You knew how much Spencer cherished his mom, especially with her health declining. Sharing stories about her felt like a tender offering of his vulnerability.

He returned the gesture, his thumb tracing the faint outline of a mango-shaped birthmark on your back. " My mom swears it's from all the mangoes she craved while pregnant," you said with a laugh, remembering your childhood debates about the science behind birthmarks.

As the night wore on, your exploration became a conversation without words. You ended up curled up on one bed. You ran your fingers over the slight dip in his lower back, a lingering ache from a wrestling match between an unsub gone wrong. He skimmed his thumb across the freckle dusting your shoulder, a map of sun-drenched summer days.

There was no urgency, no pressure. Just a quiet appreciation for the way your bodies, like your minds, fit together, like puzzle pieces worn from being fitted together—entangled from experiences, both big and small. In the faint intimacy, you found a deeper connection, a comfort that transcended beyond just physical.

Suddenly, Spencer spoke, his voice soft. " Maybe your mom was right, you know."

"Right about what?" You murmured, head tilting at the man's question.

His gaze met yours, a thoughtful crease furrowing his brow. " About finding your soulmate," he said hesitantly. " There's an old Buddhist saying, I once read, that when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making."

A thoughtful hum escaped your lips. " That's beautiful, Spencer," you whispered.

He continued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, "Plato once wrote humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces, but Zeus split us in half as a punishment for our pride, and we were destined to walk the Earth searching for our other half."

A soft blush crept up your neck. You hadn't expected such a personal turn in the conversation.

"Plato," you murmured, surprised." The one who wasn't a big fan of the soulmate idea, right?"

Spencer's lips curved into a small smile.

"True," he admitted. "But even a brilliant mind like his couldn't deny the undeniable pull we sometimes feel towards certain people. Maybe the Greeks weren't so far off . Maybe the stars, the constellations, these little imperfections on our skin... Maybe they all tell us a story of where we belong."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You found yourself captivated by the way the moonlight glinted in his eyes.

"So," you finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, "are you saying we're destined to be wandering halves searching for the other?"

Spencer shook his head slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "No," he said, his voice a smooth cadence. " Maybe... Maybe we already found each other."

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken sentiments. The air crackled with a tension that both terrified and exhilarated you. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat to the quiet reverberation of the night. Curled beside him, Spencer's arm draped casually across you, its weight a comforting presence, you drifted off to sleep.

A faint smile touched Spencer's lips as he listened to your soft snores. "Good night," he whispered into the darkness.

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.

> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k

> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3

—

“oh my god- fuck!”

you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.

jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.

“damn…”

his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.

“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”

but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.

the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.

suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.

the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.

“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”

his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.

“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”

you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.

alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.

“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”

figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.

he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.

and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.

eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.

“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”

“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.

and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”

you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.

the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.

because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.

you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.

“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”

—

“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”

your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.

jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.

“you scared me!”

not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.

“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”

“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.

your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.

“where did you lose it?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.

it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.

“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”

“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”

he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”

he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.

“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”

“but are we just going to leave the car here?”

“did you leave anything in there?”

“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”

he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”

you pout.

“it’s such a bother.”

feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.

maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.

“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”

“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.

he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.

“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”

the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.

“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”

and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.

“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”

he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.

“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”

“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”

he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.

a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.

you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.

your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.

“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.

he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?

“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”

god, please, not your favorite car.

“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”

“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”

you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.

“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”

“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.

it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.

he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”

he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.

the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.

you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.

“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”

the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.

“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”

he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.

“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”

“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.

“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”

jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.

your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.

“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”

you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.

“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.

you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.

“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”

angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.

“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”

jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.

“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”

but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.

“eh, it is what it is.”

the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.

“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.

you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.

but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”

“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”

“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”

and just like that, you’re walking away again.

“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”

—

“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”

you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.

“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”

“i know what you’re doing.”

“what? what am i doing?”

the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”

“why?” your tone borders on a whine.

“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”

“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”

“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.

“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”

“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”

“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”

your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”

“no, you’re not.”

and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”

he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.

fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.

“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”

and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.

“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”

“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”

his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.

“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”

“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”

the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.

oh, he truly got called out, huh?

“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”

“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”

“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”

you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.

you can’t be the only one, can you?

“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”

didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.

“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.

for the record, you loved that mug.

“boring.”

“and fighting with me is fun?”

you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”

“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.

all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”

what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?

you don’t know, but you feel good.

and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.

he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.

“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”

“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”

but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.

that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.

“no. no, no.”

his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.

“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”

then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.

“i’m hanging the laundry now!”

“how dare you walk away from me?!”

“you can’t follow me!”

“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”

—

“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”

he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.

“is that it? are you tired of me already?”

he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.

you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”

and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.

you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.

you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”

he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.

“did i turn invisible?”

your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.

you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”

he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”

his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.

your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.

a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”

atleast he tried to shoot his shot.

“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”

he disappears into the closet again.

he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.

“hey!”

you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.

“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”

“no.”

you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.

jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.

he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”

“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.

“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”

he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.

“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.

you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”

“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”

and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.

“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”

it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.

“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.

“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”

his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”

and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.

your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.

who does that so casually? who the hell does that?

oh, right… jungkook. of course.

you raise the white flag today.

perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.

—

“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.

your sour mood makes a reappearance.

to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.

this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.

oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?

too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.

to: my baby love

i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?

orrr is that what you're away buying 😥

WHERE ARE YOU

why didn't you just take me with youuuu

?

please me lonely :(

[sent 1 photo]

a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭

i miss you :(

are you almost done

i hate u

whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.

—

jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.

only to be greeted by a complete stranger.

his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.

the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.

they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.

he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.

not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.

his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.

what the fuck?

okay, calm down, JK. one more time.

he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.

“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”

—

you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.

oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.

you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.

he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?

“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”

upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.

“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”

the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.

“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”

he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.

“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”

sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.

“i like you the most.”

and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.

his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.

“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.

but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”

“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”

he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.

“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.

he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.

you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”

—

jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.

“will you type my password for me?”

you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.

“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”

he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”

“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”

shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.

“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”

that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.

“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”

“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”

“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”

“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.

you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.

“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”

“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”

“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”

“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”

you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.

so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.

you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.

and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?

fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.

you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.

“are you proposing to me?”

“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[aemvnd]

intimacy. ⑊ 8:16𝐩.𝐦.

content warnings. -> mdni. smut. afab. fem!reader. cunnilingus. slight breeding kink. praise kink. aemond is in love.

+. hii, my loves! i’m officially back & posting new writing content after a few months of my hiatus. this is just something short i wrote to get back into writing smut/fluff again. will prob delete later…idk. love u. ♥︎

the night is still young, full of soft caresses and tangled limbs. deep, eager thrusts and sensual kisses. sweet, feminine moans and deep groans of endless pleasure. you’re embraced by your lover, his arms long and lean and possessive, wrapped snuggly around you, never wanting to let you go.

this is how you spend your most recent nights, being fucked roughly, lovingly, with large, calloused hands and sweet nothings whispered into your ear, possessive words spilled by your lover’s kiss-swollen lips— you’re his perfect girl.

his sweet, most beloved girl.

his, his, his.

“mmh, you taste so fucking sweet,” aemond purrs against you, his lips pursing as he suckles your overstimulated clit into his mouth, flicking his skilled, silver tongue over the fleshy nub, his eye flashing darkly as he watches you, silently observing you, watching the way you cry out for him, your mind falling into oblivion.

pure, blissful pleasure beyond comprehension, that is all you feel, all you can taste, all you can touch, needy and wanting more, more, more.

it is almost exhausting, coming so many times on your lover’s wicked tongue, feeling the rough pads of his fingertips dig into the curve of your plush, womanly hips, humming against your sweet cunt as you mewl like the most beautiful creature he has ever seen.

“perfect…so, so perfect, my love.”

shyly, you lock eyes with him— your beloved aemond, the other half of your soul. “ahh, aemond— please, i- i need….” you trail off breathily, so beautiful and innocent, your sweet voice stammering slightly from how needy you were, desperate for aemond and his devoted touch.

and then, you gasp weakly, your heavy-lidded doe eyes widening, seeing the yearning and dark obsessive sparkle that made your husband’s eye glow, his prominent adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he continues slurping at your tiny, drooling cunt, eagerly drinking down the sweetness of your liquid pleasure, making wet, obscene noises with his mouth as he feasted on your exquisite ambrosia.

“my precious girl, my heart— mine,” aemond rasps, his voice deep and hoarse, his jaw throbbing with the way he continued feasting on your dripping cunny, devoted to making you come over and over again on his tongue until he can’t stand it anymore.

aemond needs you, beyond desperate as he slips his leaking cock inside of your tight, gummy walls, his lips now claiming yours, kissing you messily— he is full of his own endless passion and desires, his tongue curling around yours so perfectly, a most perfect match, making the young prince purr deeply as he tastes your innocence on his own tongue.

oh, he wants, he wants you, more than anything.

you were always so alluring, so lovely— you’re like an endless dream that aemond never wished to wake up from, wanting to be lost inside of you forever, never to be parted, two bodies, two halves of one shared soul, intertwined for eternity.

aemond sighs, breathless, overwhelmed by your ethereal beauty, obsessed with the way your weeping cunt squeezes his cock, making him ache and long to fill your womb with his hot, scorching seed— and oh, you would make the most beautiful mother, aemond thinks, yearning to make you the mother of his children, his heirs.

the night is still young, and so, it continues, with sweet promises and declarations of endless love whispered from aemond’s lips, lost in the warmth and love that is simply you, and you’re his, only his— completely and eternally.

and tonight, like every night previous in your shared martial chambers, you’re all that matters to the one-eyed prince.

[williamvapespeare]

"every day i'm fucking smiling;" a rant (cogent, intellectual character study) about Charles

We all know that Charles Rowland is THE character of all time. Obviously. Undisputedly (except by Netflix) blabla. I, a mixed race bisexual idiot with daddy issues, am about to fucking get into it.

I think there are a lot of ways to get into that end of ep 4 scene – I think we can look from trauma, we can look from model minority syndrome, we can look from a place of people pleasing to the extreme, but I think the best way to get into Charles (for me, personally) is to look at him as a character formed of intersections. Of in-betweens. In literally EVERY way possible, he is between things. He’s mixed race, he’s (probably) bisexual, he’s between life and death, he’s between good and bad, he’s probably sitting somewhere between trauma and healing – like, he’s CONstantly engaging in coping mechanisms and that itself is an in between.

Ok this idea of “I must be liked” very obviously will come from living a life where the opposite of not being liked is always violence, and that definitely can’t be understated. But I think this whole scene and this line in particular really speak to this very specific feeling that comes with inhabiting an identity that is ALWAYS seen as “not enough” in some way. Like, if you sit in a place where you don’t speak one side of your family’s language well enough and simultaneously aren’t white enough (or whatever enough) for the other side, you’re just like fundamentally culture-less and fighting to just be ANYTHING.

(Another GREAT example of this I think is the game Life is Strange 2, which is about two Hispanic American brothers, one of them speaks Spanish and the other one is much younger and doesn’t and there’s a bit where the younger brother doesn’t want to leave the US and says “I don’t even speak Spanish” and the other one is like “don’t worry, everyone likes you.” Like YES being “““Likeable””” is maybe the only way in when you are so fundamentally detached from a thing that you are also fundamentally part of, anyway!!)

Similarly, like all of us bisexual people know we’re constantly getting shit from both sides, from straight people and gay people and probably like, corpses decomposing in the ground who are throwing around terms like “gold star lesbian” or whatever the fuck. People just look at whatever relationship you’re in and they’re like ah yep that’s you!!

Like the whole thing is the most reductive narrow-minded stupidity, but it’s also just THE WAY. It’s the way of stuff. And being like ok, I AM NOT ENOUGH OF ANYTHING THAT I AM. How are you going to deal with that, you’re going to try and be likeable?? Because that’s something you can control!!!

And I’m low key so mad that we can’t see a continuation of this story where we get to see a character slowly come to terms with these in-betweennesses and say like, I’m not actually two halves, I’m two wholes. This is intentional in-betweenness. Like yes, blabla let the boy be bi, but it’s SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT. And I trust this show and I trust these writers to get that right and we were robbed of that.

So yeah idk tldr “every day I’m fucking smiling” was like the gut punch of the century. Whoever wrote that I’m omw to haunt your local Denny’s with my extroverted mixed race bisexual energy THANK U

[luvyeni]

( SPOOKTOBER ) little witch ̨ ! 🦇 一 지젤 ՞

𝓟 airings. succubus!giselle x witch!reader wc. 0.7k

🕸️◞ WARNINGS. loss of virginity, oral sex ( reader receiving ), tribbing, dirty talk

「 ♱ authors note 」 happy spooktober everyone!! started off with one of my true loves im surprised i never wrote for her

maybe you should've listened to your other witch friends when they said don't summon the sex demon — yeah you were a witch, but a young dumb virgin witch and this was a succubus; they basically ate young dumb virgins like you for dinner.

so you ignored their warnings; you sat up everything you needed , laying out all the things you would need to summon the demoness , following everything by the book; what you didn't expect to pass out right where you sat on your bedroom floor.

when you awoke; you were in your bed, unable to move. “huh?” you were paralyzed , unable to move your legs. “poor stupid little witch.” you heard the voice of another woman in your room. “you'd think a witch would be smart enough to summon such a demon like me.” you felt a hand on your ankle. “wh-who are you?”

“you know what i am little witch , you summoned me.” she giggled seductively , her hands slowly moving up your thigh , her frame finally coming into your vision. “and you know exactly what i want.” she smirked , her tail swishing behind her. “no pants , you were practically waiting for me little witch.” you whimpered feeling her cup your cunt. “oh a virgin.” she smiled. “i can smell you, i love virgins.”

she was now on top of you; eyes a glowing red. “is that why you summoned me , to take your virginity?” you felt her grinding down on you. “dumb little witch , i could easily kill you.” she moaned. “but im not.” she said , kissing behind your ear. “wh-why?” you moaned. “because i can practice smell that sweet virgin pussy , begging for me to use it.”

that's how you found yourself trapped; pinned down by the demon , unable to use your powers as the red eyed demon lapped at your poor cunt. “pl-please.” you could move your legs; arms pinned to the bed as she pulled multiple orgasms out of you with her tongue. “to-too much!” you squealed. “pl-please , gonna cum again.”

you yelped feeling the creature bite on your clit; you've never had sex before , but you had a feeling that you'd never feel anything like what you were currently feeling. “fuck!” you screamed out cumming all over the demonesses again; losing count after the 4th time. “shit!”

you were exhausted; you felt like you wouldn't be able to cum again. like she could read your mind — which she probably could , pulled away. “uh uh little witch , i'm not done yet.” she said, toying with your clit. “your poor cunt all puffy.” she said teasingly. “gonna give me one more.” within a flash, her clothes were gone , and she was straddling your waist. “gonna drain all your energy little witch.”

her cunt on yours , dragging back and forth , her spiky tail coming up to your throat, wrapping around it , lifting you up. “fuck little witch.” she moaned. “for a virgin , you're dripping like a whore.” you gasped out. “please.” she smirked , her perky tits bouncing in your face. “all fucked out for me , i’m gonna ruin you for other girls.”

she began to move her hips faster , removed her tail from around your neck , allowing you to fall against the bed , the appendage coming in between your legs , rubbing your clit. “fuck , fuck I'm gonna cum.” she squealed out , her glowing red eyes rolling to the back of her head. “cum for me little witch , cum right fucking now.” the demon ordered. “fuck!”

yanking on your hair as she used to to get herself to completion , and loud moan that made it feel the room was shaking as she came , squirting all over your lower halves. “shit!” she grabbed your tits , squeezing as she slowed down her hips , bending down with a teasing smirk , her red lips , kissing your neck. “just something to remember me by, little witch.”

you woke up the next morning , mind foggy; the dream you had last night was so vivid. you were scared to get up , fearing you still were dreaming , but you had to get ready for the day. sitting up you were able to move; not without pain though. “what the fuck?” you said , basically limping into your bathroom , your familiar meowing at your feet.

you looked inside the mirror , your neck covered in hickeys and scratches — along with a red kiss mark.

so it really wasn't a dream?

©LUVYENI

[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”

[i-write-sometimes-maybe]

Disobedient- Lady Lesso X Ever!FemReader (NSFW)

Synopsis: You’re a fun little ever, and Lesso can’t wait to play with you.

Word Count: 7.1k 🫣 (yes you read that right)

Warnings: SMUT, possible trigger warning as there will be blood mentioned, knife play, edging, edge play (cause, ya know, knives), kinda blood play, bratty reader, brat tamer Lesso, marking of many types, denial, coercion of admission of feelings 🤭 read it to see if there’s more😈. Also yes part of it is similar to my one shot ‘Celebration’ but since Ive been writing this for damn near a year I don’t care enough to change it. At least you know I wrote both 🥲

A/n: Everyone thank @pebbleswritessometimes for this oneshot cause literally a week ago I didn’t know when or if this would be finished soon, but they wanted and hyped me so they got it 🥰🫶🏻. Also, If you can’t tell, my motivation has been shot lately especially with smut, so this drags but I hope it’s good for you guys! I was trying to get this out a lot sooner than I actually did, my bad. I ended up getting a second job and been busy with both jobs as well as not having much motivation but then I quit said second job and continued to struggle with motivation, sorry it took so long lol hopefully the smut makes up for it. Also, yes, there’s a difference between edging and edge play!! Enjoy!

© This is my work, you have no right to repost my work for any reason without my explicit permission, all rights reserved. Likes, comments, reblogs are always welcomed!

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

You were stuck at the white cloth-covered table, sitting basically by yourself. The table next to yours had a couple of Never girls, Dot and Anadil, but they seemed to be sitting by choice. At least, that's what you guessed after they shoved off two boys that walked up to them.

Sitting at a table by yourself at the first ever, Never-Ever dance was certainly not one of the things you had planned for tonight. You just wanted to dance.

You were looking around the ballroom, finding the drastic change in aesthetics amusing. The school was unified but that didn't mean the students didn't stick to what they know. The dance floor was separated into light colors and dark.

Only a few mixed at the tables, but the students kept quiet. Creating a strange feeling in the air.

Your eyes scanned the room. At first, you were looking for your partner, at least, that's what you told yourself.

But then your eyes landed at the front of the ballroom. The two heads of the once-separated halves standing side-by-side, the Deans. The Dean of Good was dressed in a light, poofy ballgown that made her look like a cupcake. While the Dean of Evil remained in her signature dark suit.

This time, it was accented with a deep royal purple ascot, taking you by pleasant surprise. But you could tell this was one of her nicer suits, it fits her a little better than the others. Not that you would know, of course. This is definitely the first time you've taken more than a second to look over the red-haired Dean.

But gods, the way she holds herself. The way she looks at everyone. The way you can practically see her thoughts as she glared at the Never-Ever PDA. The way she would throw her head back laughing at something you desperately wished came from you.

But that's the thing. You kept wishing for things. But as an Ever, you get your wishes, right?

But now, you wished you could watch her shrug off the blazer. To watch her roll the cuffs of her sleeves up to reveal those toned arms. How you wish her hand would wrap around your-

You cleared your throat as if you've been caught red-handed, and you might've. You caught her eyes on you. They lingered longer than a simple look should've. But you're imagining things, now. Maybe a Never spiked the punch you were currently nursing.

'I think I'm mentally cheating. How could I be so disobedient.?'

She smirked at you, it couldn't be at you, right? Right? There's no way she knows what you're thinking. Her eyes landed on you once again, and she did a once-over on you.

And in that moment, you suddenly wished your outfit choice was good enough. You steered away from the baby pinks and champagne colored dresses that all the other Evers wore. Deciding on a royal blue floor length gown that fit to you perfectly but also complimented your skin tone. You thought you were being risqué with the slit that went straight to your hip, but as Lesso's eyes seemed to linger there for a moment, you knew it was a good choice.

You knew you shouldn't, you have a boyfriend.

Boyfriend! That's right, yeah. What was his name again?... Of course, you didn't forget your own boyfriend's name. Your mind certainly isn't occupied with the Dean, of course not. You definitely weren't dating him only to maintain the 'perfect Ever' appearance, nope.

You couldn't help it, her eyes are oh so enticing.

'I think I shouldn't be lookin' in those eyes. Why do they give mе butterflies?'

You took a second to try to find your boyfriend -unaware your thoughts were heard and the dean was barely biting back a smirk- your eyes rolling as you see him entertaining a group of Ever girls. Unconsciously, your eyes went straight back to the fiery-haired Dean. Who, to your surprise, was walking straight to you.

You wouldn't admit that your stomach dropped a little and you got nervous.

She stopped just a few feet from you, "You can't seem to keep your eyes off me, can you little one?"

You decided to hop onto some suddenly present charismatic boldness, you chuckled a little bit and stood to come face-to-face with her, though she was a couple of inches taller than you.

"It's hard not to when you're the best looking person in this room." It was wrong, you both knew that. She's the Dean and you are technically a student. But if it was so wrong, why does it feel so right?

You were well over age, being late to the start of your own story. It was late enough that you thought you'd not get the chance to go to the school and get your own fairytale.

Your heart skipped a beat as she took another step towards you, you never thought she'd be this close to you, especially in front of everyone else.

"I guess I could say same about you, Dove." Her head tilted slightly as she took the opportunity to examine you closer. Something igniting within her once she saw just how revealing your dress was, never mind the low-cut neckline.

You smirked, "Like what you see, do you?"

A humor-filled chuckle escaped her, and you yearned to hear it again, "My, my, what a bold little Ever. How cute." She wouldn't admit that she was honestly a bit surprised by the dress you chose, or that she secretly loved it.

"What? Haven't met anyone that isn't afraid of you?" You had no idea where this confidence of yours came from, but you didn't mind.

She fully chuckled this time, not expecting these remarks to come from you. But again, she did love it.

She started walking towards you, and you started walking backwards. You weren't afraid, that much was clear, but you did want to be away from the near-center of the room. You had no idea if anyone was watching, but you couldn't care less if someone was.

Luckily, your spot in the ballroom wasn't too far from the edges.

She licked her lips, a move that you wanted to watch on repeat, "Perhaps not, but this is going to be fun."

You only stopped moving backwards once you were sure you were at the back of the ballroom, your back hitting the wall being the dead give away, "Oh? I do hope you're not expecting me to just give in and fall to my knees for you." You spoke softly as her body continued to infiltrate your space.

"Oh, you'll be on your knees, pet."

You pulled her by the lapel of her suit, "You're going to have to make me, if you want anything from me." You smirked, tilting your head this time.

"You, my little one, are trenching in great waters."

"Well, luckily, I can swim."

She smirked again at your antics. Oh, she was gonna have fun.

"You really have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you?" Though Lesso kept her tone, she was being genuine.

"I'm sure you'll enlighten me." You plastered on the most sickly-sweet smile, one that Lesso couldn't wait to taste.

She remained silent, whether is was to think about what she was about to do or to think about what to say,  she leaned forward and placed her hand on the wall next to your head.

You took this little moment as a chance to show her what you've got, that you're not one to be underestimated, "Tell me where you want us to go. Tell me, and I'll take you there." She raised her eyebrow at this, enthralled by the possibilities.

"Oh? So, if I say, take me to the gardens, you could do that?" She wanted to believe you, but teleportation is unheard of in the fairytale world, and especially from a student.

You stayed silent, looking into her eyes as you swiftly took hold of her other hand that was placed atop her blazer buttons. Lesso hardly had enough time to react, let alone speak, until she realized that you had taken you both to the gardens.

A big part of you was relieved at finally being alone with her. But you watched as she processed that you could teleport.

Before she had the chance to say anything, you spoke first, "It's not all I can do," You were proud of yourself, and you didn't try to hide it either.

She looked back at you, a new look swirling within her eyes and she hummed, "Really, care to share?" She tried to keep her teasing, uninterested tone but she was curious and it showed.

You fake pondered for a second, "Only if you earn it." You finished off with a smirk, knowing that you weren't necessarily hiding anything.

She chuckled again, filling your stomach with butterflies, "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

She could see something unknown within your eyes, "You've got no idea."

She took another step closer to you, your fronts almost completely connected by this move of hers, and she used her pointer finger to push your chin up a bit more, "Well, I'm sure I can figure it out."

You grabbed the top of her shirt that was just under the ascot and used the material to pull her down and closer to you, close enough to smell the scent of whiskey that she probably thought she could hide, "And if I'd rather show you?"

Something overcame Lesso at that move, she wasn't sure what it was but her self control seemed to have dwindled to nothing. Excitement continued to do nothing but fill her, and couldn't wait to see just how much innocence you lacked.

Her eyes went to your lips for a moment before they flicked back to your waiting eyes, "Then show me, Dove."

That was all you needed to pull her even closer and connect your lips with hers, it was something that you both had clearly been waiting for. Gods, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't pictured this moment, and it was even better than imagined.

You moved your arms to wrap around Lesso's neck, pulling her nearly impossibly closer to you. In that moment was when her hands went to your hips as well, slightly squeezing once her hands settled in their spot.

You took this opportunity to take her somewhere else, you certainly wouldn't be complaining if she took you bare in the gardens but you'd prefer to not have the whole school witness such a thing. You took the both of you back to your room.

You lucked out, being such a late comer to the school got you your own room. And you were more than thankful you had just cleaned it.

Lesso pulled back from your lips, not only to catch her breath but to see where you've taken the both of you. She hid her impressed features once she looked from your quaint room back to you. She was unsurprised when she saw the proud look on your face being combined with your very obvious lust.

As your tongue peeked out to wet your lips -to taste Lesso once more- you noticed how her eyes instantly followed the action. So, you played into it, slightly pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Once you saw Lesso swallow the lump in her throat, you knew what effect you had on her. You thrived on the reactions she had to you. The subtle way her eyes narrowed at your smart mouth remarks, the way her pupils dilated every time you did, well, anything.

"You know you can look and touch right?"

Lesso sucked her teeth, "I am touching you, pet." She raised her eyebrow in challenge, seeing as her hands were still on your waist from the kiss.

The corner of your mouth twitched in attempts to hide your smirk, knowing that if you challenged her just enough she'd come to her limit and take you right then and there.

"But not in the way we both want you to," You started. "You're not, holding back are you?" This time you didn't hold back your smirk.

Her grip on you noticeably tightened, "I'll tell you this once, pet. Strip for me. Now." Her face remained stoic but you saw the amusement in her eyes.

You wouldn't admit just how her tone had affected you, causing your wetness to increase tenfold, "And if I don't?" It was redundant to say, you would've done anything she asked, but still not without a little bit of a fight.

Lesso summoned a blade, moving the very tip to the top hem of your dress, right in between your breasts. You knew it was sharp with the way the edge caught the light.

In a flash of movement, she pulled the blade down causing the dress to be cut in half once it connected with the pre-existing slit on your hip and fall right off your body.

"I liked that dress." You spoke near breathless.

"I gave you a chance."

Her other hand slowly snaked from its place on your waist, up across your abdomen. Her hand continued between your breasts, but it didn't linger there.

Her hand went on past your cleavage and up to your neck, her hand moving to wrap around your throat. You managed to hide the whimper that threatened to escape you as she applied pressure.

She leaned towards your ear to whisper her words, "I'm going to fuck that attitude out of you."

"Are you going to do that any time soon, or should I get myself started? I mean, you're making a lot of promises for someone that's yet to prove anything." You very well knew what you just started, and you couldn't wait.

Lesso's jaw clenched at your words.

"Oh, my little Dove, I'm going to break you." She spoke with a wicked simper.

"Then break me." You had the faintest of smirks on your face, eyes half-lidded as you spoke.

She started pushing you back by the hand that was still on your throat. Though it was quiet, it was clear that your chest started heaving from excitement. She moved her hand only long enough to push you down on your bed. A soft 'umph' coming from you at the contact.

The only light in the room was from the moonlight streaming in through your open window, but it was enough light to see her eyes darken as they roamed over your nearly naked form.

You couldn't help but take your bottom lip between your teeth as you could practically see her ideas raging through her mind as her head tilts the slightest bit. You were overwhelmingly ready for her to take you, in any way she saw fit, if the now-ruined panties you still adorned were anything to go by.

You watched with a bated breath as she slowly stalked her way onto the bed with you. You tried to resist the fidgeting of your hands as she took her time straddling you.

Her knees came up to rest by your ribcage, your breathing not resting at all as she practically ignored you as she begun twirling the blade once again. She watched as the edge caught the limited light, only watching you through her peripheral. 

Her signature head tilt returned, "You're so pretty. But, I'd bet anything that you'd be prettier with tears streaming down your face as you beg me to let you come."

"You're more than welcome to find out."

She let her wicked smirk come back to her face, she loved to play the game of cat and mouse, especially with you being her delectable prize.

Your whole body reacted as she leaned over you, lightly tapping the tip of the knife against the bulging artery of your throat. Your head instinctively tilted back to give her all the room she may want.

She slowly began dragging the blade down your sensitive skin, only enough pressure to leave a slightly itchy feeling but not enough to draw blood, yet. Your excitement continued to grow with each inch she dragged the blade.

"My beautiful pet," She started.

"Yours, huh? News to me." Lesso looked to your face just in time to watch you wet your lips.

"Don't think that you won't be mine, not after I'm done with you." She was beginning to get a little irritated with your insubordination, it was obvious in her tone.

You readjusted the strap of the bra that had managed to dislodge itself from its spot on your shoulder while being shoved to the bed, "Is that another promise?"

The blade moved from your collarbone, swiftly moving to the center panel of your bra, and in the time it took for you to blink, Lesso had sliced through it. The fabric was in half and it caused the cups to fall to the side, rendering the garment useless.

"Hey! That was my favorite one... It was expensive."

"Oh, was it? How evil of me. Maybe you can earn yourself a new one."

A displeased huff came from you but Lesso wasn't paying attention, now fixated on your body. The very same body that you couldn't bring yourself to look at in the mirror for too long without finding a list of things you wanted to change.

Her silence while observing you brought forth all the insecurities you had, and you instinctively moved to cover yourself.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lesso gripped your wrists and moved you away from your chest, only once she had your hands pinned above your head did she see the uncertainty in your features, "You don't get to hide yourself from me, this is all mine."

"I am my own, I belong to no one but me."

"Oh, my pet, we shall see how long you believe that."

Lesso bent further over you, her lips connecting to the slight cuts that were only just starting to become visibly irritated on your skin. Her tongue peeked out, causing a delicious sensation once she swiped over the superficial slice.

A breathy moan type noise left you and Lesso just couldn't wait to hear more, to make more come from you.

Her tongue continued down your chest and she latched onto a spot on top of your breast, beginning to leave a mark.

You may fight with her about being hers (for now) but she'll make it clear you're not available. The idea of seeing you covered in all the marks she could possibly leave on you, just had her itching to leave more.

And so she did.

She left another love bite on your sternum beside the now puffy cut on your chest.

Lesso was moving almost painfully slow, but that wasn't without effort. It was originally in efforts to make you writhe and beg. But now? The slow movement of her marks and tongue, it was in efforts to savor you. To get the chance to memorize the taste that's distinctly you.

It felt like minutes before she moved her lips again, only now connecting them to your nipple. Though it was hushed, a proper moan finally escaped you.

Her fingers grazed across your bare torso as her tongue swirled around your nipple, the sensation causing an eruption of chills across your skin which didn't go unnoticed by the redhead.

She finally moved onto your neglected nipple, instantly hardening the moment the tip of her tongue came into contact with it. You fought the urge to tangle your finger into her fiery locks.

You couldn't let her win that easily.

Only once you released a breath did Lesso manage to pull herself from you, before she lost herself.

"Gods, if I had known you look and tasted this good, I would've made you mine sooner." Her nails scraped up your ribcage.

You ignored the butterfly eruption in your stomach, a scoff would've came from you if you weren't so focused on the feeling of her, "I am not yours."

She looked from the marks forming on your skin to your face, "Really? It seems you're convinced."

Just as you opened your mouth to agree that you were, in fact, convinced, you felt the blade drag across your stomach. Instead, a stuttering breath came from you.

"What was that, Pet? I didn't quite hear you." Her words were empty, you both knew what she was doing.

You wouldn't let her off that easy.

But what you didn't know is she knew your refutal would come, so as your mouth opened once more to argue her tongue swiped up the blood that began to bead from the fresh cut above your navel.

Finally, finally, she got to hear a true moan of yours.

Your head pressed back into the mattress and your body instinctively arched towards her and the sensation she was providing.

She peaked up to see your eyes closed with bliss, "You taste addicting on the inside and out."

You looked up to see one of the best sites there is. Lesso's hair was slightly disheveled, her pupils blown wide, a little bit of your blood still present on her bottom lip.

The urge to pull her into a kiss, to know what you taste like on her lips was overwhelming. Almost too compelling...

"I'm still waiting for you to fulfill your promise." Your comment was breathless but you hoped it still held the snap you wanted it to.

Her eyes never left yours as you saw her lift the blade again, slicing off the excuse of an undergarment in a quick move.

You'd be a damned liar if you said you're not entirely enthralled by what's to come.

Her lips continued from your navel, grazing over your hip bones. Of course she would continue to tease the living hell out of you, her lips never quite going where you wanted them to.

Another mark was left on the very top of your thigh, her fingers just slightly brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside of your other thigh.

She was so close, so close to where you were almost quite literally aching for her.

It was almost to the point of begging, almost. Your hips involuntarily thrusted to get her where you wanted.

You knew very well that if anything slightly resembling a beg left your lips, she would win whatever little rendezvous was going on and you couldn't have that.

But to your absolute pleasure, it wouldn't come to begging. Yet.

Just as you felt the slight of her breath on your throbbing clit, your head lulled back entirely too ready for what this woman would do to you.

The moment her tongue met your clit, your bottom lip went between your teeth as not to reveal how desperate you were. Your hand instantly moved to the sheets below you, knuckles turning white as her pace went from torturously slow to almost enough.

Your thighs parted even further to allow more of her to be closer to you.

"Oh, fuck," One of your hands left the bed and almost entangled itself in Lesso's hair, but that was before you caught yourself.

Part of you wanted to believe that this was so you'd win the game. But the part of you that you were ignoring was thinking it was so you wouldn't actually get lost in the redheads presence.

But what you didn't know was that the redhead had felt the way your fingers just grazed along her shoulder, and she wanted to feel more.

You could tell that her repetitive movements were bringing you closer to the peak of pleasure, the tightness in your stomach was starting to become distracting.

Lesso could've sworn she could taste how close you were, if the way your thighs twitched was anything to go by. She gave it just a moment more, another moment for you to think that you were actually about to get what you wanted.

But that moment would soon come and go.

Just as you were about to voice your closeness to the edge, all movements and sensations stopped.

Part of you knew to expect this, but that didn't mean you wouldn't be annoyed.

Lesso was no longer biting back her smirks, especially when your groan of annoyance escaped your lips.

"What was that, pet?" She gave a slight nip to your inner thigh. "I didn't hear you."

"Fuck, Leo," If you weren't so focused readjusting your head on the pillow you would've seen Lesso swallow at the moment her name left your mouth.

She wasn't expecting how breathless and perfect it sounded, leaving her a little bit shocked if she was being honest. But while she was honest, she wasn't even aware you knew her first name.

In her state, she didn't hear what else you said. With the slightest shake of her head, she knew she couldn't dwell any longer.

To your dismay, she moved away from your dripping pussy. Her lips slowly trailing back up your torso.

She left more love bites where there was room, slowly easing herself to hover above you.

She licked her lips as she felt your body erupt with chills as she was finally level with you, choosing to not say anything about it this time.

Another mark left on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder before she moved to speak directly in your ear, "If you want to cum, you know what I want." She said too cool and composed for your liking.

You fisted the fabric of her blazer, trying to pull her closer, "And I've told you, if you want it from me then you make me."

A deep chuckle came from her, as if she knew something you didn't, and she sat up once again.

Her eyes never left yours as she slowly pulled the blazer off, making a show out of it.

The only way you'd be able to describe her movements was entrancing. The way she swiftly undid the buttons of the blazer and tossing it somewhere you weren't paying attention to. You weren't even sure if you blinked as you saw her take off the waistcoat next.

The only thing you were sure of is how badly you wanted her to keep taking things off. To see what she's been hiding from you this whole time. To see if she's as toned as you imagined...

Her smirk returned, "Pet, if you want the shirt off you only have to ask."

Your eyes rolled back once you processed what she said, "Telepath..."

Gods if you could've seen the cocky smirk on her face, you would've been much more turned on. If that was even possible.

You didn't even want to dwell on the amount of times and things she's must've seen in your mind. And none of them were innocent. Luckily you looked up, flushed cheeks and all, in time to see her unbutton her top.

You had involuntarily laid your hands on her thighs, watching her as she's straddled above you. Slowly, more of her was revealed to you, feeling your mouth go dry and the throbbing in your ignored cunt strengthening.

You simply couldn't look away. Her pale skin was toned, each muscle having its own definition. She may not be the most chiseled sculpture but you'd still swear she was one of Michelangelo's works.

"You staring, pet."

"That, is no one's fault but yours." You spoke, still breathless, as you looked back in her viridian eyes.

The game was temporarily forgotten, desire had overtaken all actions from you both.

Her lips rejoined at the base of your neck, adding more fuel to your inextinguishable flame.

You simply couldn't help it anymore, one of your hands finally tangled itself in her fiery locks like you desperately wanted to do ages ago while the other went to her now bare side.

And gods was it diminishing the last of Lesso's control, the sensation of your touch was almost overwhelming. The feel of your breath on her neck was nearly making her head spin.

She once again moved downwards, going slowly as a way to regain her thoughts, but to you it was a way to get you to squirm.

And, it worked.

Your need had built up enough before she took away your bliss.

You may have given into your need to feel her, but you still wouldn't beg.

Your hips lifted from the bed, but not for long before her hand had pinned them still once again. You couldn't help but groan.

Yes, you were antsy. Yes, you desperately wanted to be taken and completely destroyed but you were not about to say that out loud.

You'd fight to win this forsaken game if it killed you.

And, it just might.

Her lips lingered on your hip bone, so close yet so far from where you needed her.

Lesso's eyes peered up your tense body, loving to discover new things about you. She loved how your brow furrowed as you focused, how your fingers fidgeted in place until you could decide where you wanted them.

Lesso simply loved to play with you, to get you to writhe and moan. She had discovered a new favorite thing.

And speaking of moans, a soft one rippled from your lips as her fingertips slightly grazed your clit. A whispered curse involuntarily left you as she finally provided some sensation to your needy and abandoned clit, pausing just as her pace speeds past excruciating to run just along your folds.

A stuttering breath left you this time, knowing that this tease was the ultimate move for her. That this is her play.

"Something you want to say, pet?"

You bit your bottom lip, merely an attempt at withholding your whimper, and shook your head. You were desperate, desperately hoping she'd continue but quicken her pace.

Again, Lesso wouldn't say it out loud but as much as she loved seeing you twist and turn with desperation, she wanted to see what you looked like when you come. To hear the symphony that is your moans. She wanted to know if you'd grip her tight as you came undone or push her and the stimulation away because she knows once she gets a taste she'd never be satisfied by anything else again.

Lesso's thoughts were interrupted as a louder moan coming from you.

Your back arched and mind went empty as her fingers suddenly and easily slid into you, your arousal causing no resistance.

"Oh, fuck-" Your head began to lull back once she finally began moving her fingers.

The pace was just as steady as her previous ones, not trying to work you too quickly, but the new sensations were welcomed.

"More, I need more." Your hand flew to the red locks, trying to get more of something, anything.

Lesso was tempted to have you beg like the desperate little whore you were, but she'll take that, for now.

Her pace increased ever so slightly, only enough for her to see the way your face contorted with desire and need.

Just as you were about to repeat your previous statement, she added a third finger. Stretching you just enough to have a mind fuzzing pleasure start to build.

Lesso decided now was the time she'd like to commit to memory, the way your hips thrusted to keep pace with her fingers, how your back arched off the bed in search of more. How you sound, all. Because. Of her.

Lesso was sure to stay consistent, knowing your desperate self was beyond ready for release.

She merely needed to wait for it.

"Fuck-" Your words came out rushed and desperate.

"Awe, does my pet want to cum?"

"I'm not your pet." You quickly realized and spoke on your autonomy.

Then, it all stopped.

The slow incline to the edge, the glorious way she filled you, the way your body urned for more. All of it. Gone.

Your breaths came out rapid and broken, "Oh, fuck me."

"Well, I'm trying, but you're making this awfully difficult for yourself."

"Me?!" Your head collapsed against the pillow at the audacity.

She moved herself away from you, "You already know what I want from you, pet."

A scoff came from you, knowing you won't give in that easy, "What? Think I can't take it? You think I'll just give in, just like that? Cute." You looked back in her eyes, a glimmer of frustration beginning to gather.

You smirked inwardly, knowing that the game is working in your favor.

Her head tilted a little, "Oh, you can take it, can you? You can handle all I can give you?"

"Oh, do tell me that wasn't your all, now..." Your delicious simper filled Lesso with the need to make you eat your words.

More than joy filled you as her fingers slid back into your pussy, only now she was moving at the fastest pace she's done all night.

A near guttural moan came from you at the sudden move of hers, no building or waiting necessary.

Lesso still hadn't spoken, but as her free hand slowly snaked up your body, only pausing for a moment to leave a quick pinch to your right nipple.

Just as your brain processed the sudden sharp sensation, her hand wrapped around your throat. Your head tilted back as automated response to her touch.

Just as she squeezed, a small mewl came from you as her pace didn’t ease. Her fingers continued to pound into you harshly, causing you to get closer and closer to the edge of pure bliss.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to play with me?” Her voice lowered, no pleasure lied behind it then, it was almost dark. And as you saw her sharpened glare you wanted to be afraid, but something about Lesso makes it impossible for you to be afraid.

She chuckled lowly as your arousal increased at her words, “Pathetic.”

The pure pleasure she was giving you, the delicious look she had, the tone of her husky voice, it was just enough for you to come close.

And Lesso knew it. She could feel it.

But you wouldn’t.

Again, everything stopped suddenly.

Her hand left your pussy, as the grip on your throat loosened enough to hear a pathetic cry escape.

Okay, you thought you can handle it. But when she overloads your senses with nothing but the feeling of her, it becomes difficult to not give in.

Your eyes closed and your bottom lip went between your teeth as an attempt to keep yourself together.

Your hand reached up to hold onto her wrist that was homed around your throat. Maybe as a way of grounding, definitely as a way to keep some feeling of her on you.

Barely a moment passed before Lesso spoke up, "You're mine, say it." Her tone left no room for discussion.

"I belong to no one." Your voice however, was weak and low.

"Then you'll continue to be denied, entirely on you." A beat, two beats. You knew that you couldn't keep denying it, and not just because you wanted to come.

A stuttering breath, then a sigh, “I’m, yours. I belong to you.” It was no question, you both were aware of this fact before this rendezvous started. Something was so delectable about playing the game first.

She had the most aggravating smug smile on her face, and it looked so good on her. Damn you, damn it, damn her. You wouldn't take it back even if you wanted to. You were hers. Irrefutably, irrevocably, undeniably, completely hers.

She didn't have to say anything about how pleased she was with your admission, she knew it all along, her smile said it all.

Your chest was still heaving, trying to catch some of the breath Lesso stole from you, when she crawled on top of you once again. She straddled you like she had many times in the night, lightly tracing her nails over the marks she's made. She admired the discolored hues her love bites started to take on, loved seeing how your sensitive skin reacted to the slight edge of the blade, how your skin is adorned with marks from her nails all over.

She just couldn't get enough of the sight of you. All marked up by her, marked up where everyone can see, marked to show that you've been claimed.

But then, it hit her. You weren't technically marked by her. Oh, that just won't do.

She reached back over for the previously abandoned blade. Unconsciously twirling it once again between her fingers, an unknown habit of hers.

Where to put it? Where-to-put-it? She thought to herself, still silently looking over your tired and marked up form.

You simply laid there, you knew she was thinking of something, but you knew you'd find out soon enough.

And soon it was.

Not more than a moment after your thought, a hum came from the redhead and she leaned over you.

"This may hurt, but I'll make it quick." She spoke just as the tip of the knife cut into your skin.

'Fuck...' You thought as your mouth opened with silence.

The pained pleasure was the most mind spinning feeling you’d had felt to date.

The tip of the blade slicing through your delicate flesh.

And soon enough, a perfect “L. L” was carved right above your left breast.

A perfect marking that left no room for interpretation, you were now and forevermore, hers.

You, belonged to Leonora Lesso.

Both of your hands fisted her hair as her tongue swiped over the wound to clean you of the mess you were making.

Your eyes would’ve rolled to the back of your head at her move had they been opened.

“Please…” The slight tug in her hair was enough to tell Lesso everything she needed to know.

“What, begging already?”

“You’ve already won tonight, there’s nothing else for me to lose but one more thing for me to gain.” Your hips thrusted up enough for her to get the message.

And in that moment, Lesson realized it was time to keep her part of the bargain.

Her lips and tongue slowly moved south once more, exploring every part of you she could on the way.

She skipped past your navel, knowing that this would be the time you get what you wanted.

Gods the moment her lips came back into contact with your clit, you could’ve sworn you could come right then and there.

“Oh, fuck Leo, just like that.” Your hands never left her hair, nor eased on the grip.

Lesso would be a damned liar if she said she wasn’t entranced with the way your voice was breathless, or with the way her name simply rolled off your tongue.

Her pace increased on your clit while she brought her fingers back to your desperate pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” Your back arched off the bed and your grip in Lessos hair was a welcomed pained pleasure for her as it got even tighter.

You both knew you wouldn’t last long with the speed and expertise Lesso was using on you.

You were rapidly approaching the peak of bliss, feeling light headed as it was already and you haven’t even crossed the threshold yet.

“Leo, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

The swirling of her tongue on your clit pausing only long enough to speak, “Yeah? Does my pet wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes, I wanna cum!”

No other words came from Lesso but her lips once again wrapped around your clit. Along with the swift swirling of her tongue, she pared it with new suction.

The newfound pleasure caused white to appear in your vision, your overwhelming sensitivity becoming known.

Just as Lesso slightly curled her fingers, you were there. A near scream-like moan and the cinching around Lessos fingers told her you were there.

You came, and you came hard.

Lesso’s name fell from your lips like a mantra, being spoken over and over and over again.

Lesso got her answer as you started to use your grip in her hair to pull her from you.

The sensitivity was nearly unbearable and Lesso wasn’t easing up.

She knew you’d have to pry her away from you.

The pure taste of nothing but you was a craving she didn’t know had to be satiated.

Your hands finally relaxed enough to moved from Lesso’s hair to her jaw, now pulling her up to face you.

You still hadn’t caught your breath but you didn’t let that stop you from pulling the redhead in for a kiss.

Her hands moved to be resting on your waist, choosing to deepen the kiss.

Your body was weak but you needed a taste of Lesso too, even if it was a sample.

She was pliant in your hands, moving in any way your slight touch nudged her too. Your lips slowly moved down her jaw, the bliss causing her to briefly close her eyes.

You continued further down, reaching her neck and beginning to leave a mark right on her pulse point, "Only fair if I get to leave my mark too. Wouldn't want anyone else to think they've got a chance, now do we?"

You could feel the way her chuckle left her throat as your lips moved along her skin.

You were sure to make it worth while, leaving a bright large mark where it couldn’t be obviously hidden.

Sure, it was meek in comparison to the marks and cuts she’s left on you, but you like to think it’s the thought that counts.

Lesso pulled back a bit, and just as you were admiring your work, she was admiring you.

Neither would speak of it but this mutual liking, no infatuation, no no love, would be the center of a new universe.

Her eyes glanced down and a proud smirk rejoined her features.

“I’ll get a rag to clean you up, stay here.” She reluctantly climbed off you to grab a rag, finding it surprisingly easy to maneuver in your space.

Your voice was still soft, partly hoarse from the previous activities, “Not like I can go far right now.”

You yearned at her genuine laughter at your comment, knowing you’d gladly get to hear it again.

She came back with a water bottle and a rag, “I’ll be sure to ease up on you next time.”

And with one simple sentence, one small act of kindness, you and your heart smiled.

Next time.

Again, you were hers. Irrefutably, irrevocably, undeniably, completely hers.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Taglist: @v3nusxsky @just-your-casual-nerd @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs @hxzxrdous @sgelessoanddoveykissing

Lmk if you wanna join the taglist! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[kerorowhump]

I CAN AND I WILL (i needed to find the post for a discussion i was having so i reblogged it so keep it up in my blog so I wouldn't risk losing my train of thought jdshkf)

hey actually it's striking to me that this is the exact opposite of "everyone else is useless" if u think about it. I think this is more truthful to how he feels as it's not an emotional reaction he's having to some unpleasant event

[kofiilicious]

“untied shoelaces” // luke castellan x reader

pairing. luke castellan x reader

word count. 803

content. reader doesn’t know how to tie their shoelaces so luke helps them and teases them about it. gn!reader. fluff, because that's, like, all i can write.

notes. my phone was like less than 8% when i wrote both halves of this,, but i pulled through

---

Okay, so it was cross them, then two loops, then cross the loops and put one through the hole… wait. What hole???

You let out a frustrated huff. It was probably your fifth attempt trying to tie your sneakers. You were trying to get ready for the day, but your laces came untied, and you wanted to rip the ears off whatever bunny this method was based on.

So here you were, knelt on the ground, ending up with either a messy knot or laces that fell apart when you pulled them taut. You weren’t about to cave and ask someone for help, either — you were too stubborn for that. If anything, you’d go barefoot before that happened. It was kind of pathetic, being a demigod who has to face monsters hourly and not even knowing how to tie your shoes.

Someone suddenly knelt behind you after another failed attempt. Two familiarly strong arms wrapped around your abdomen, and a chin rested on your shoulder. A mop of dark curls slightly obscured your vision.

“Having a bit of trouble there?”

Ugh. Of course, Luke Castellan, your totally not favourite person on the entire planet, had to interrupt you while you were moping about your shoes. You tilted your head to the side, leaning on the slightly coarse pillow of brown locks beside you.

“Not at all. You’re crazy.”

“Really? Because I just watched you redo that lace at least five times. You look like you’re ‘bout to cry.”

One of Luke’s hands snakes up to tap his fingertip on the tip of your nose. It earns a frustrated huff for you, letting your hands drop back to your sides, your shoulders slumping. You’re officially giving up.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m going barefoot today.”

“Why? Do you not know how to tie your shoes or something?”

The silence following the question was very telling. Luke huffed out a surprised laugh, arms squeezing your gut slightly as he leaned forward, chest pressed against your back, to gaze down at your untied shoes.

“You seriously can’t tie your shoes?”

“Shut up.”

The son of Hermes’ hands trailed down your sides to your hips before finally making it to one of your shoes. His hands were stupid large, and your gaze lingered on the vein that ran through it before trying to focus on what he was doing.

“Watch the professionals and learn.”

Safe to say, you watched, but you learned nothing. Luke lost you when he made the two bunny-ear loops. Everything was confusing, and you couldn’t make sense of it by the end.

“There. Now try on your other shoe.”

“Try what?”

“To.. to tie your shoe.”

“. . .”

“.. You didn’t pick up on a single thing I did, didn’t you?”

Your sheepish grin confirmed his suspicions. The brunette couldn’t help but groan, rolling his eyes as if he should’ve known better than to expect you to remember — or even to watch, for that matter.

“Alright. Switch your knee.”

With a pout, you abide. Earlier, you knotted the shoelaces on this sneaker and pulled it taut, but the two loops didn’t retain. Luke stared for a long few moments, dumbfounded, before bursting into hushed laughter and grabbing your sides to steady himself. You could feel the shake of his shoulders pressed against your back.

Your face burned up with embarrassment. The only thing that held you back from going off on him was that his laugh was probably the most addictive thing you’ve had the pleasure of hearing and causing.

“Are you done laughing at me yet?”

“I’m sorry— haha! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

That lopsided grin on Luke’s face told you that he wasn’t really. You huffed, saying nothing as he began to undo the knot in your laces, which proved a struggle with his large fingers and his position. You didn’t dare help him.

Eventually, he rejoiced, untying the stubborn tangle. This time, as he tied your shoelaces the proper way, he tried to talk you through the steps. The words just seemed to go through one ear and out the other.

“Cross them over —”

“— loops, like bunny ears —”

“— one loop through this hole, and tighten.”

You were spacing out until he nudged you after you hadn’t responded the first two times he said your name.

“Did that help?”

“.. Totally.”

“…… You didn’t listen again, did you?”

“.. Nope.”

Luke shook his head with an amused smile. He stood, holding his hand out and helping you to your feet. He sighed out your name,

“What am I going to do with you..?”

You gave him a grin and went to take a step.. only to trip and fall flat on your face. Luke burst out laughing.

Motherfucker had tied your shoes together.

---

[lemon-pie-br]

Special Needs

Minatozaki Sana x F!reader

(First story. Kind of quick, kind of experimental, something I wrote a few weeks ago. I plan on bringing more stuff in the future... Probably:)

The party is in full swing, the sound lightly vibrating against the walls of the house and the conversations blending into an almost comfortable cacophony. We’re in the living room, surrounded by laughter, clinking glasses, and a thin haze of cigarette smoke in the air. Sana, beside me, is a magnetic presence. From the moment we arrived, she’s been giving me looks that seem to have a purpose beyond simple flirting.

She leans in to say something in my ear, and her perfume, sweet and intoxicating, makes me lose track of what she’s saying for a second. Laughing, she pulls back, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing my arm. “Let’s do something fun,” she whispers, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

There’s a tension in the air, something only the two of us can feel.

As the night progresses, Sana’s provocations become bolder. She gets closer to me on the makeshift dance floor, letting our bodies brush against each other in a way that seems almost accidental, but I know it’s not. She laughs, pulling me by the hands, spinning me around, and suddenly lets go, her eyes always locked on mine, as if we’re playing a secret game.

One of those times, she lets her lips touch the exposed skin of my neck, a touch so brief and soft that it leaves me breathless. “Are you having fun?” she asks, but before I can answer, she pulls away again, mingling with the others...

but never straying too far.

When I least expect it, Sana comes close again, leaning in until her face is almost touching mine. “Meet me on the second floor,” she murmurs, her lips nearly brushing my ear, “in the last room.”

She pulls back, her eyes holding mine for a long moment, as if making sure I understand. Then, discreetly, she leaves the room, her body disappearing up the stairs. My heart races. I look around, but no one seems to notice the exchange we just had. With one final sip of my drink, I follow the path Sana took.

The second floor of the house is quieter, the muffled sound of the party below providing an odd sense of tranquility. I walk to the end of the hallway, feeling the anticipation grow with each step. When I reach the door, I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding.

I push the door open slowly and step inside. The lights in the room are dim, the space bathed in a soft, inviting glow. There, on the bed, Sana is lying, dressed only in black lingerie that accentuates every curve of her body. She’s lying on her side, propped up on an elbow, her eyes watching me with a mix of challenge and desire.

“You took your time, baby,” she says with a slight smirk, her voice low, tinged with impatience.

I approach slowly, feeling the warmth of her body before I even sit on the edge of the bed. Sana lifts herself slightly, the movement making the fabric of the lingerie slide over her skin like a second layer. She comes closer to me, and when her lips meet mine, the kiss is slow, almost experimental, as if we’re both savoring the moment that has been building throughout the night.

Her hands touch my face, trailing down my neck and over my shoulders. “I knew you’d come,” she whispers, her words soft and close. “I knew from the moment we walked into that party that you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“You’re impossible,” I reply, but my words sound more like a surrender than resistance.

Sana smiles against my mouth, her fingers lightly tugging at my hair. “I know.”

—

Sana and I were inseparable as kids. The kind of friendship that made other kids wonder if there was something more between us, but we were so young, so innocent, that all we knew was that the world felt right when we were together. There was a special connection, something that went beyond playtime and late-night phone calls. We were two halves of a whole, though we didn’t have the words to explain it back then.

But everything changed when Sana moved away. I remember that day like it was yesterday. She gave me a tight hug, and we promised to keep in touch. "Nothing's going to change," she said, but there was a sadness in her eyes that belied those words. I held onto that promise for a while, but as the months, and then years, passed, life pulled us apart. The contact became sporadic, until eventually, it disappeared completely.

I moved on, but a part of me always wondered what had happened to Sana, where she was, how she was doing. And sometimes, I found myself thinking about her in ways that went beyond friendship, but I quickly pushed those thoughts aside, believing they were just remnants of a childhood longing.

Then, years later, she came back to town. I heard from mutual friends that she was back, but I didn’t know if she would want to see me, if she still remembered me the way I remembered her. But fate, or maybe something else, had other plans.

We ran into each other by chance at a café downtown. I was distracted, fiddling with my phone, when I heard someone call my name. When I looked up, my heart nearly stopped. There she was, as if no time had passed, but at the same time, so different. More mature, more confident, but still with that sparkle in her eyes that I always loved.

“Sana?” I asked, almost in disbelief.

“I knew I’d find you here,” she replied, smiling in that way that made my stomach flip. “It was your favorite spot. Well, I guess it still is.”

We talked for hours that day, as if we were making up for all the lost time. There was so much to catch up on, so many memories to relive. And with every word, every shared laugh, I felt that old connection coming back, but this time, there was something more. Something unspoken, but deeply felt.

After that reunion, we couldn’t stay away from each other. We met up every day, exploring the town, rediscovering our favorite childhood spots. We went out for lunch, for walks, and we always ended up in the same place: either at her house or mine, where we’d spend hours talking, watching movies, laughing, and eventually falling asleep together, like we used to when we were kids. But now, the simple act of sleeping next to her carried a tension, an expectation that neither of us dared to express.

One night, after an especially long day full of laughter, we were lying in my bed, the lights already off, with only the moonlight illuminating the room. I was lying on my side, facing Sana, and I could feel her breath against my face. We were so close that the space between us felt charged with electricity. The silence between us was comfortable, but also filled with something I couldn’t name.

“You know,” she began, her voice soft in the dark, “I never stopped thinking about you. Even when we were apart. I always knew that somehow, we’d find our way back to each other.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I never forgot you either, Sana.”

There was a moment of hesitation, and then she moved closer, her lips brushing gently against mine. The kiss was slow, almost shy, like we were both testing something new and sacred. But soon, what started as a tentative exploration turned into something more urgent, more intense. Everything we had repressed over the years came to the surface in that instant.

“I feel like… I’ve always been waiting for this,” Sana whispered against my lips, her fingers tracing my face with a tenderness that made my chest tighten.

“Me too,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion.

From that moment on, there were no more doubts. We both knew that what we felt for each other was more than just friendship. It was something much bigger, something that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself. We began to explore this feeling together, rediscovering each other in ways we had never imagined. The connection between us, which had always been there, was now charged with an overwhelming passion that we could no longer ignore.

Our afternoons together became filled with tenderness, our laughter turned into touches, and soon, we were spending every night at each other’s houses. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a new discovery, a piece of us that had been hidden for so long, finally revealed.

And so, what started as a childhood friendship evolved into something much greater. Sana and I, who had once been inseparable as friends, were now secret lovers, exploring together a love that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to bloom.

—

Sana beckons me closer, her eyes sparkling under the soft light of the bedroom lamp. She’s always had this power over me—a simple gesture, a look, and I melt. I approach, feeling the warmth radiating from her body, and without exchanging a word, we begin to kiss. Sana’s lips are warm, and her kisses, slow and passionate.

She slides her hand down my neck, pulling me closer as her kisses trail to my neck. I sigh as her lips meet my skin, the heat from her mouth sending waves of excitement through my body. "I want you so much," she whispers, her lips brushing against my ear. "You looked so beautiful at the party, it was so hard not to throw myself at you in front of everyone."

I chuckle, my voice trembling slightly with desire. "You looked... stunning too," I say before capturing her lips again in a deep kiss where our tongues meet with urgency. My hands glide over her body, caressing her breasts through the lingerie. I feel her nipples harden under my touch, and Sana arches her back, pressing herself closer to me, moaning softly.

Her hand begins to slide up my thigh, slowly, and with every inch, my body responds, yearning for her touch. "I couldn’t stop looking at you," she murmurs, her eyes darkened with desire. "I wanted to bring you to this room all night."

I let out a sigh, my fingers finding their way to pull Sana’s breasts out of her lingerie. She lets out a low moan, but the sound is quickly muffled as she urgently says, "We can’t make noise." I chuckle in response, and without hesitation, I lean in to suck on her breasts, nibbling and licking every curve, every inch of soft skin.

Sana leans back on the bed, lying down slowly, her eyes closed as she murmurs, "That feels so good... don’t stop..." Her words are encouragement, and I continue, her moans guiding me. Sana’s hands tangle in my hair, a gentle caress that makes me lose even more sense of time, of place. It’s just her, me, and the feel of her skin under my lips.

Between kisses and sighs, Sana slightly lifts herself and whispers, "Take off the dress." I obey, sliding the fabric off my body, left only in panties since I wasn’t wearing a bra tonight. Sana’s gaze roams over my body, and I see the desire growing in her eyes before she leans in to suck on my breasts, her warm, moist mouth against my skin.

"Ah, Sana..." I murmur, her name escaping as a sigh while my hands caress her hair. "Keep going... I’m loving it."

She starts to move her hand down my body, fingers lightly brushing over my pussy, still covered by the panties. The movements are slow, teasing, each touch filled with promise. "You look so beautiful when you’re feeling pleasure," she whispers against my skin, her voice full of affection and desire. She continues until my panties are completely soaked, and when I realize it, I say with a smile, "I’m so wet for you."

Sana smiles back, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "Let me see," she says, and I lie back on the bed, offering myself completely to her. Sana slowly moves down my body, her lips leaving a trail of heat as she goes. When she reaches my panties, she gently pulls the fabric down, her eyes locked on mine, as if she’s been waiting for this moment all night. She starts slowly, lightly running her tongue over my pussy, just teasing, exploring. Each movement is made with an almost devout attention, as if she wants to memorize every contour, every reaction of mine.

"I love your taste," she whispers between licks, her voice velvety with desire. "I could do this all night." The way she says it, as if she truly could, makes me moan loudly, my body arching involuntarily toward her, wanting more, needing more.

She intensifies the rhythm, her tongue moving with more precision, finding every sensitive spot, every place that makes me lose control. "Keep going... don’t stop," I murmur, my fingers gripping the sheets, the pleasure almost unbearable.

Sana obeys, but there’s something deliberate in her movements, a teasing that makes me want to explode and, at the same time, wish she never stops. She pauses briefly to say dirty things, whispering how much she loves my taste, how much she’s enjoying making me feel this way. And I, breathless, can only ask for more, my voice almost a whisper.

"I’m so close," I warn, my breath quickening, my body on fire. Sana responds with a smile, increasing the pressure with her tongue even more until I’m on the verge of climax. It’s such intense pleasure that I feel like I can’t take it. "Sana... I’m going to cum," I murmur between moans.

She stops and looks at me with that gleam in her eyes, that gleam that always makes me lose control, and suggests in a voice thick with desire: "Don’t cum yet. Let’s scissor real good." My heart races even more at her words, and I don’t hesitate to agree.

She removes her lace panties, and I watch her for a moment, every curve of her body, every movement charged with a sensuality that is pure and unique. Our wet pussies meet, and the heat I feel when coming into contact with her skin is almost overwhelming. Our hips begin to move in sync, a rhythm that starts slow, exploratory, but quickly becomes more intense, more urgent.

"Ah... This feels so good! Keep going!" Sana moans, her eyes closed as her hips meet mine in a movement that makes me arch my back in pleasure. Every touch, every slide, is like an electric shock running through my body, making me lose any control I might have left.

"Yes! Just like that, Sana, your pussy is so wet..." I manage to say, my voice interrupted by moans. Our skin rubs together, sweaty, hot, and the sensation is almost indescribable. I grip her thighs tightly, wanting more, needing more.

She keeps moving against me, the rhythm getting faster. "It feels so good... don’t stop, please... don’t stop," she pleads, her voice filled with such intense pleasure that it makes me want to go further, to give her everything she needs. I move faster, harder, and every moan of hers is like music to my ears.

"Sana... Sana, I’m so close," I whisper, my hands gripping her thighs, pulling her closer, wanting to feel every part of her, every inch of her skin against mine. She bites her lip, her eyes still closed, and I know she’s about to cum.

"Me too... Ah, don’t stop, please... keep going... I’m going to... I’m going to..." she moans, and when she finally cums, I feel her body tremble against mine. The deep, satisfied moan that escapes her lips makes me follow right after, losing myself in the pleasure, in the connection we share, so unique, so undeniably ours.

As our bodies are still recovering from the orgasm, our hearts beating at a frantic pace, Sana looks at me with a mischievous smile, that smile that always means she has something more in mind. "I want to taste your orgasm... and I want you to taste mine," she murmurs, her voice soft and full of desire. She barely finishes speaking, and I already feel my entire body vibrate with anticipation.

"I’d love that," I reply, my tone as full of longing as hers. Sana then moves with an almost feline agility, lying down opposite me, and I feel the warmth of her body over mine, her smooth, warm pussy brushing against my lips. Our bodies align perfectly, and her scent, mixed with the aroma of sex and sweat, invades my senses, making me almost moan in pleasure even before we begin.

I feel her lips close around me, her warm tongue sliding over my sensitive skin, savoring every drop of my orgasm. The pleasure coursing through my body is almost too much to bear, but I waste no time in reciprocating. I lower myself until I taste the unmistakable sweetness of her honey on my tongue. Every movement of my tongue, every gentle kiss, is an explosion of pleasure that consumes us.

"Ah, you taste so good... I love your taste," she whispers between moans as she continues to suck me with devotion, her tongue exploring every part of me, slow and steady, but with a hunger only Sana can have. I respond with a muffled moan, diving even deeper into her flavor, my tongue following the contour of her swollen lips, savoring the musky taste that is so uniquely hers.

"Don’t stop, Sana... don’t stop... I want you to cum in my mouth," I say, my voice hoarse, almost begging. The words come out like a confession, a request that she fulfills with even more intensity, her pace increasing as she sucks me with a passion that makes my body writhe in pleasure.

"I want to feel you cum again too... Ah, please, cum for me," she moans, her voice interrupted by her ragged breath, every word echoing the desire that simmers between us. My hands grip her buttocks as I intensify my movements, determined to bring her to the edge again.

And then it happens. I feel her body tremble, the taste on my tongue growing even more intense as Sana dissolves into a deep, powerful orgasm, and the sound of her moans sends me into my own climax. I come against her mouth, Sana's name escaping my lips in a satisfied, almost reverent whisper. The pleasure is so overwhelming that for a moment, all that exists is her, us, and the overpowering sensation we share.

—

We descend the stairs, each step steadier than the last, trying to sync our breathing and heartbeats to the rhythm of the music filling the house. The muffled sound of laughter and conversation intensifies as we approach the living room, as if the world downstairs has been waiting for us, never suspecting what just happened in the last room upstairs.

Sana, as always, pulls herself together quickly. There's a lightness in her steps, a soft curve to her smile. It's as if nothing happened, as if everything is normal. But there's something in her eyes—a confident gleam, a sparkle that only I understand.

We return to the party, trying to blend in as if our skin isn't still tingling with the memory of what we just did, as if our bodies aren't still carrying the remnants of that moment that was ours alone.

When we rejoin the group, a friend turns to Sana, curious. "Hey, where were you? You disappeared for a while."

Sana responds naturally, a slight smile on her lips. "Oh, I was just on the phone... had to take care of a few things." She shrugs it off casually, as if it really was something trivial. But then, she shoots me a quick glance, and in that look, everything that happened between us is there, like a secret we share that connects us in a way no one else could understand.

I hold her gaze a second longer than necessary, smiling back. It's a silent dance we always dance, a bond that goes beyond words.

The night continues, with laughter and conversation, but between Sana and me, there's a subtle tension, an electricity that lingers in the air. She moves close to me from time to time, lightly touching my arm, whispering a joke in my ear, and every time she does, a shiver runs down my spine. The spark between us is always there, waiting for the next moment, the next touch, the next time we're alone.

This is our rhythm now. A game, a dance of secrets and desires. Our friendship, burdened with a love that has blossomed in a way neither of us could have predicted. A love that grows, silent and powerful, always lurking, always reminding us of what we have and what we don't need to explain to anyone. Because only we know, and that's all that matters.