#I’ve been manifesting this every single day

[boba-beom]

I WAS GOING ON ABOUT THIS FOR THE LONGEST TIME OMFG THEY DID ITT FINALLY DONKEYDONKEYDONK BEOMJUN CAME IN CLUTCH

edit: well fuck. after watching this and screaming to ilem abt how good gyu looks, I’m reminded that the 23 curse is starting WHEW 🥵

[itboyaugust]

i love watching my dreams come to fruition. my life gets better and better every single day.

[goblinbabe666]

so depressed. so unbelievably depressed.

[phantomsies]

my dress up darling • ony

convincing your friend to go to a convention with you turned out to be the best idea ever!…but it’s what happens before the event even arrives that makes it all the more fun..

📝: blerd!ony, black fem!reader (plus size coded), PWP, finger sucking, thigh riding, fingering, handjob, pet names used (mama, baby, she slips up and calls him daddy), lots of praise, tit/nipple play, nasty hotel sex, tiny mentions of blood + injury, reader is a seamstress/cosplayer, missionary, squirting, friends to lovers, lots of humor and banter, creampie, aftercare

word count: 6.3K

this was a lil something I’ve been wanting to write for the longest bc blerd!ony altered my brain chemistry and I miss him tremendously (and the next time I go to a con, I’m totally not hoping to manifest a tall, darkskin, nerdy cosplayer bf🌚 just joking y’all! That would literally never happen. But I hope y’all enjoy this

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ow..damn, this hurts already..”

“You good over there, mama? What’s wrong?”

the deep voice belted out in a rather low and calm tone..cool and collected, that’s how he always was. Nonchalant to a fault and that was just one of the many things you loved about him. Hence why you had invited him along to this little venture in the first place. However, at the moment…you quite frankly could not stand his ass! Through gray colored contacts, (y/n) shot the tall male next to you an icy glare..one signifying just how ‘good’ you were!

“Oh, I’m just fine, Ony. Despite the fact that my legs are still shaking and I’m sore as hell.”

a statement that should not have garnered a single chuckle out of anyone had your very handsome homeboy doubling over in laughter. He could tell by the look on your face that you were still a little peeved at him for the previous night and this morning. Honestly, you’d never want to fight a single person in your life but if you thought you could beat him, you’d ask him to spar just one time. “What the hell is so funny?” “Nothing at all, you just seem a lil’ stressed.” Feigning his humor as he pressed the key fob to lock the doors of his 2022 Camaro..a beautiful specimen, much like the man driving it. Honestly, it should’ve been illegal to be this fine but you knew exactly what you were signing up for when you decided to come to this convention with him! Three days full of dressing up, video games and all of the collectible items and rare figurines that one’s nerdy little heart could desire. It was an event that you had been looking forward to for months and it was only the icing on the cake when your favorite cashier turned cosplay buddy decided to tag along! You’d discovered Onyakopon’s, or just Ony as everyone called him; his love for nerdy things after you came into his store on a late night with a random anime shirt on and he was all hyped to see someone else that looked like him, especially a girl..that was into this same stuff. Since that day, the two of you spoke every chance you got to gush over your favorite shows and game series, all but holding up the lines to do so. Soon, that bond carried over outside of his workplace and the two of you began hanging out. Even going to a manga and anime cafe for your first outing. You were so excited to have a friend who shared your similar interests. Eventually, you divulged to Ony that you were a cosplayer and that’s when he stumbled upon your Instagram page. Which was littered with photos of you in beautiful costumes…some very detailed and intricate and others..very revealing and sexy! Make no mistake, he drew an issue with neither one but to see your duality from a girl who walked around in long graphic tees with characters on them and sweatpants to seeing you with your ass out, dressed as one of his fictional crushes, had him very conflicted! But what impressed him even more was the fact that each one of those beautiful outfits you were wearing?

You had hand sewn each one yourself! Spending weeks at a time crafting each one. Hence why your page was so much more bare than other girls he’d seen doing the same craft. It wasn’t that you loved it any less, you just didn’t have the luxury of tossing on any old, run of the mill Amazon ensemble from some third party buyer whose plus sizes looked like they’d fit a middle schooler at best. So instead of giving it up altogether, you took the liberty of learning how to stitch them together yourself to ensure the perfect fit. So naturally, it came as no surprise that when you revealed this secret to him, he wanted you to curate his very first cosplay as well! Ony had long since dreamed of dressing up as characters such as Kratos, Jin Kazuma and all the other badass video game giants he adored. Not only did go out and purchase hundreds of dollars worth of materials for you to make his dream costume come to life, but he offered to cover the costs of everything for the weekend. Just because he was so gracious to you and excited to be going. You made it your mission to ensure that he’d be left in awe when he put it on! The character in question? None other than Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat and you decided to accompany him as the antagonist’s wife, Sindel. You both looked incredible. But leading up this moment, things had gotten a little out of control, thanks to your companion over there!..who didn’t seem to be phased at all.

“Aye listen, to be fair, you started it. I just finished it.” Prompting you to smack your lips and cut your eyes at the shirtless male. Who was glistening in the sunlight and not making matters any better. “Whatever, I think you were betting on sum’ shit like that to happen.” “Shit, I ain’t mad that it did and I know you not either.”

but just what was Ony referring to? Well…it all began last night in the hotel room…

flashback

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ony! Can you stay still, please? I’m tryna finish this last piece.”

“C’mon, ma. Can’t you do it later on?”

“If it gets any later, imma be sleep so no. You can pause that damn game and wait for me to finish sewing this on.”

it was around eight thirty at night..dark had fallen cast over the skies and faint crackles of thunder resounded throughout the air. Luckily, the two of you were safe from any potential storms in the confines of your spacious hotel room. A luxury, double bed suite at the Best Western; only two blocks away from the convention venue. The last thing either of you wanted to be worried about was having to drive forever to get there and then have no parking or having to wait in a long line. It was a mistake you’d made several times when attending these events alone but Ony wanted his very first time to be absolutely perfect. Not to mention, he didn’t want you having to walk far in your heels. DragonCon was by far one of the largest conventions in the country and people of all kinds came to the illustrious event to have fun, make friends and of course, show off their cosplays. You and Ony had decided on the video game greats, Sindel and Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat. You had loved Sindel since you first began playing the series and she became your favorite. So a year ago, you decided to craft her iconic purple suit and the staff to go along with it. So you were all set aside. But he wasn’t going to be as easy…because at the moment, while you were trying to put together the final touches on his outfit, he was clicking away at a controller, which made it difficult to get the stitching right. But you knew how it went…when you found yourself gridlocked in an important match or battle and couldn’t stop at the moment.

“Awww, c’mon! You keep blocking, bro. I hate this damn combo—“

it was at that moment when you were bringing the curved needle up through the loin cloth piece and securing the stitch, did he jump and not only cause you to lose balance, but send that needle right through your finger! Poking the index pad and breaking the skin. “OW!” On instinct, you’d jump back and immediately, Ony dropped his controller, finally breaking focus on what he was doing. You were bleeding but nothing too major. Alas though, he felt instantaneously guilty and reached for you. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Making an attempt to check on you. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel bad so you’d downplay your pain and try to brush it off. But he was quick to run to the bathroom to grab some paper and bandages to help clean it up. “Here, you sit down..I got you.” You could tell he was remorseful by the way he flew into action but it was just a part of the craft. You’d lost count of how many times you’d singed yourself with a hot glue gun or poked yourself with a needle. Hell, you still had a giant scar on your arm from the time you sliced it, trying to cut material for a prop. It was certainly on the tamer side of the injuries you’d sustained. But just knowing that he was even remotely responsible for your pain, he couldn’t handle that.

“Ony, I’m fine. Really..I’ll just wrap it up later..”

“Nah, I should’ve stopped like you said. That’s my fault.” There was a sudden shift in his tone and you didn’t like it! There was no need for him to feel guilty. But here he was, sitting next to you on the bed as he gently cusped your hand and began first aid. He was a true sweetheart if you’d ever met one. He’d start by wiping it away and cleaning it thoroughly. You told him that a bandaid would only get in the way and keep snagging so you’d just leave it uncovered.

“You good? How you feel?” A question that elicited a laugh from you. You didn’t understand why he was so worked up over something so trivial. “I told you I’m okay. You ain’t got to worry, I’m a big girl. It’s gon’ take more than a lil’ ass needle to break me.” It was then that the two of you found yourselves face to face on the edge of the bed. Everything else had seemed to fall silent or as menial background noise. You noticed that he couldn’t stop staring at you and that he was still clutching your hand. Those deep set eyes of his remained focused on you as he casually slid his thumb across your own. “Yeah..I know. But I just wanna make you straight, that’s all..you know I care about you.” The sentiment sends flutters throughout your stomach. He was so sweet and attentive..it really shocked you that no woman had snatched him up already. He was incredibly handsome, respectful and always kind. You were happy to have someone like him in your life.

“I appreciate that..I’m just happy you decided to come with me. It means a lot. I usually do this by myself so I feel a lot better with you around.”

by now, the mood had shifted from slightly intense to..something far more sensual. Serene and quiet, as if the two of you were lovers confessing your feelings under moonlight. Truth be told, you’d never pictured yourselves as anything other than friends up until that moment. But you were always each other’s ‘person’. Attached and glued at the hip and loving the sense of happiness you brought one another. This peace and safety that came with knowing you could be your authentic selves. Inching closer, Ony would bridge the gap of space between your bodies and place a hand on your thigh. “Well you know I wouldn’t have missed this for anything..getting to be alone with you? It’s the highlight of my year..dressing up and getting to experience my first con with my fine ass girl? I couldn’t ask for better.” You’d feel your skin run hot and pangs shooting off in your stomach as he uttered the words in that deep drawl. You couldn’t believe he was so infatuated with you. Granted, you were beautiful and there wasn’t a time that you doubted yourself but he was unreal. Those pearly white teeth, that gorgeous dark skin, chiseled physique and that height..he nearly drove you insane when you were measuring him for all the pieces and you caught a glimpse of that v-line! Right now, your minds were on a one track path and there was no chance of it derailing.

“..Ony..”

because of this, neither of you could fight your urges a second longer and he’d pose a question you’d been dying to hear. “..Can I kiss you? Lemme thank you for helping me..” and without hesitation.. “I think you know the answer.” ..you gave him the green light. In a matter of moments, he’d curl a finger underneath your chin before pulling your face closer and pressing your mouths together. His soft lips collided with your own and eventually, you’d begin to make out. Shoving your tongues around inside of each other’s jaws. Your palm would creep up to cup his face and you’d find yourselves locked in a heated moment of passion. You found yourselves tangled up; hands colliding and caressing the opposite frame and by the time you came up for air, yours were roaming underneath his tank top and his were all up your slightly parted thighs.

“Here..sit on my lap.” Commanding with such suaveness, you couldn’t move fast enough as those perfectly manicured fingers waved you towards him. Ony would chew at his lower lip after licking; his signature mannerism when he was feeling a bit aroused by you. He’d done it so many times, that he had to quell it and be on his best behavior. But now, he couldn’t be too vexed to do so. He wanted you and you’d realize just how much before the night was over. You’d follow his command, propping yourself on his muscular thigh. It was decorated by a single tattoo of Shenron from Dragon Ball Z, surrounded by the eight balls. It was such beautiful work but if Ony could be rather frank…he wanted nothing more than to have you grinding yourself on it or watch that ass clap against it! A depraved thought but a real one nonetheless.

“I think you deserve a break, baby..been working so hard tryna’ get me right…lemme take care of you for a lil’ bit.” It was once you were stationed on his lap with those legs slightly parted, did he resume those sloppy yet gentle pecks. Intermittently shoving his tongue into your mouth. He’d slowly trail those fingertips across your covered skin; still sheathed by those tights underneath your skirt that you’d worn at dinner. Rips had plagued the inner corners as they’d always done…it was nearly impossible for you to keep those or a pair of fishnets with how thick your flesh was. That didn’t seem to bother him at all though. To Ony, it was the most attractive shit a woman could have. He loved how soft and supple your skin was..always scented with cocoa butter and that sweet perfume he loved so much. He loved how your features just made everything you wore, cosplay or otherwise..look so accentuated. He couldn’t get enough. Meanwhile, those nimble digits worked their way up your skirt and stopped just a centimeter short of your aching center. Unbeknownst to him, this was the first time you’d been so close to a man and in such an intimate setting. But make no mistake, you weren’t scared. In fact, you invited the idea of having him be the first one to ‘deflower’ you.

“You gon’ let me do that, baby?..Can I play with this pretty pussy?..”

the lewd question sending pangs throughout the pit of your belly. You didn’t even hesitate to provide him an answer and before you knew it, he was ripping out the seat of those tights and peeling your panties back. As he suspected, you were dripping. He just knew you’d be some pressure but this was his first bit of confirmation. As you sat idly on his lap, Ony began to toy around with your cunt. Brushing ever so slightly over that clit and running his finger pads along your folds and lips..it was so sticky and he was certain that it tasted even better. A theory he’d put to the test soon enough. However, at the moment, he just wanted to get you stimulated. He wanted to see those cute little reactions when he rubbed on your aching bud and teased it over your hole. Your arm clenched around the back of his neck as you held on for leverage. You’d watch his every move. Following his pace step for step and it was agonizing to see him going so slowly. You needed him to do his worst already!

“Mmm…I knew this shit was gon’ be wet but damn..look at my fingers already and I ain’t even stuck ‘em in..”

referring to the copious amounts of slick coating the tips as he swiped up and down. Over the sound of the crisp air blowing from the vents, he could hear your stirred up secretions, only growing by the minute. And of course, those cute little moans escaping your throat. “Ony…fuck.” “Oh you like that, huh? Like when I play in this pretty hole, don’t you, mama?” All but rhetorically questioning when he finally decided to plunge his middle and index inside simultaneously; nearly making you come undone right there. You couldn’t even elicit a response until he gained a rhythm and slowly worked you over. A single strand of drool seeped from your lips as he gently thrusted those digits back and forth. He could sense just how tight you were from his digits alone. The anticipation to be inside of you was growing stronger. But for now, he’d hide his time and focus solely on your pleasure. Those gentle brown eyes were fluttering and had even rolled back whilst you rolled your hips in a circular motion to meet his movements while incoherent babble left your mouth. But that wouldn’t suffice..he needed to hear you say it.

“Unt uh..use your words, baby. I need to know I’m making you feel good..” and alas, he’d get his answer when he sped up his pace and clutched a hand around your throat. Squeezing ever so slightly to garner his desired reaction. Ony wouldn’t consider himself to be super dominant by any means but he loved taking control to show his girl she had nothing to worry about.

“Y-yeah, daddy. It feels so fucking good.” The name slipping out casually as you pounced up and down on those two fingers. You’d felt a slight tinge of embarrassment but Ony on the other hand? Felt empowered. He never really cared for the term but hearing you utter it with those mellifluous moans, he was reconsidering! In fact, he needed to hear it again. “That’s my good girl…here, lemme take this off too.” Referencing your tube top that had been housing those ample breasts and concealed under your sweater at the restaurant. For now though, he wanted to see his gifts unwrapped. “Fuck..these big ass titties so pretty, baby. I love the way they sit up..”

it was then that he’d bury his face between them and alternate between each one’s nipple while his fingers remained nestled inside of that warmth. They’d slowly work around, twisting until they prodded your g-spot and his tongue swirled those brown buds, lapping and licking. A combination of the stimulating movements had caused you to make quite the mess of his leg with creamy juices spilling forth. You were squirming, becoming restless and in need of an orgasm already. But Ony was enjoying this far more than he should and couldn’t be vexed to stop right now.

“You so fucking pretty, baby. I swear I be so happy when you’re around..”

doting on you constantly whilst working over your sweet spot. He could tell just how excited you had become, just by the way you writhed and squealed as well. In truth, you’d never been in a situation quite like this one. You look so salacious yet so innocent and it wasn’t something that was lost on Ony. In fact, he wanted to further exploit it..

“Open that mouth..” the command followed by you promptly obeying and him gliding those same digits that were just inside of you onto your tongue. It was such a cute sight..watching you suckle on his fingers with those brown doe eyes fixated on him. This was something that he could never grow tired of..reducing his pretty little best friend to his adorable slut! You’d whimper heavily around those digits, moaning and still rutting yourself against his exposed upper thigh. Meanwhile, he was pushing those digits in and out, even getting you to gag and drool a bit from the movements. “Fuck…there you go. Suck them fingers, baby. Taste that pretty pussy f’r me. Yeah, you know your shit good. Fine ass..” which prompted you to giggle. It wasn’t a compliment you received often and honestly, you never doubted that you were beautiful but it was something about him affirming you that made your heart flutter. Suddenly, his low drawl ascended a half a pitch higher when you’d snake your smaller hand into his shorts. You’d continue to be pacified on his fingers whilst jerking him off. You were inconsolable and when you noticed that very visible tent in his bottoms, you had to move.

“Oh my gosh—shit…keep playing wit’ it, just like that…stroke that fucking dick..” growling as he forced his digits a little more down your throat; depressing your tongue along the way and causing you to keep emitting drool. Which served as the perfect lubricant to his already leaking cock. “Mmmm…Ony. Need you to fuck me..” “..you want this dick, baby?” Neither of you could take much more of this teasing and when he’d utter the fateful question, asking if you wanted to go further, you didn’t even hesitate. Despite never being intimate with a man prior. Your only partners were women or your lovely assortment of toys that you’d stashed away in your dresser. Honestly, with your arsenal..you saw little to no need to even entertain these dudes. Any feeling or sensation they could bring forth, your Rose Toy and Bad Dragon could replicate times ten! However, it was something about Ony and the way he made you feel. Not just in an erotic sense, but an emotional one as well. You felt so safe and comfortable in his presence, that it only felt natural to submit. He brought forth your feminine energy and allowed you to thrive in it.

“Here, lay down f’r me, mama. Just like that..and keep them legs spread.”

upon giving you instructions, he’d long since removed you from his lap and allowed you lie flat against the mattress; just awaiting his next move. Your tits were still sitting up, spilled out of the tube top, shuffled around your belly..and those sheer fishnets were as good as torn. It was such a sexy view, that Ony didn’t even want to undress you. However, he stripped all of his clothing down and immediately joined you back on the bed. He’d hover above you with his shaft in hand, stroking slowly. The expression on your face told it all…and he couldn’t help but to laugh. “What’s wrong, baby? You look nervous.” To which all you could do was swallow the lump in your throat. Granted, you didn’t know what an actual human’s length was supposed to look like but from the girth of his and how nearly reached the end of his thigh, nervous was an understatement. What if you couldn’t handle it? What if you embarrassed yourself?!..

“Well don’t be..you know imma take my time witchu’..I been waiting on this a long time.” Whispering to you as he leaned down and met your gaze with warm eyes and gentle smile. Brushing your cheek with that cock still in his opposite palm, he’d place small kisses atop your forehead and eventually your lips. “You just tell me what I need to do..this is yours now. I wanna make you feel good..” but it was a given, blatantly obvious even at this point. You needed every last part and inch of him..with your reassurance, he asked once more if it were okay to keep going and you’d grant him permission with a palm of your own to the side of his face..whispering to him to put it inside of you. Cooing with sweet nothings and whiny breaths, (y/n) begged Ony to fulfill your wish and it wasn’t long before your eyes went wide and your face went flush..

“Oh God—“ “Fuck…”

in that moment, the sounds of squelching flesh, along with breathy gasps emitted into the room. The two of you clashed and joined as one, right there on the crisp sheets of that king bed. The first few inches of his cock embedded deep between your warm, massaging walls and it was a sensation that could only be described as euphoric. Your legs instinctively coiled his waist, your hands to the sides of his head and his arms on either side of your body. Lying there, awaiting his next move. But alas, he had to regain his composure. Out of fear of sounding a bit too egregious, he’d keep his thoughts to himself but you were most certainly the best pussy he’d ever felt and he hadn’t even made his first thrust! Even so, Ony released a deep grunt and focused his attention back to your pretty face. “You good, baby?..Can I start moving?” This question required a bit more consideration, as you need time to adjust. That initial feeling brought forth a pleasurable yet slightly painful feeling..you didn’t make it a point to disclose to him that you were technically a ‘virgin’..but seeing as how it wasn’t the very first time you’d felt penetration, you didn’t feel it important. Besides, at that very moment. None of the proverbial details really made a difference. All that mattered was that the two of you were comfortably, willing and all ready to take this next step. And after a moment of quick breaths and whimpers, you’d instruct him to keep moving. In which he’d make one full thrust in and out..

“Agghhh…fuck..there we go, baby. In and out..” eventually, you’d fall into a rhythm of kisses that mimicked his thrusts..each one slower than the last but full nonetheless. This was so you could get acclimated with the shape and size of his member. It was a bit much and by the expression on your face, Ony knew he couldn’t start out drilling your shit!..as badly as he wanted to..

“Yeah..you takin’ my dick so good, baby..you feel so warm..” doting on you whilst your tongues swished around one another’s mouths. Sloppy, wet and steamy; an ideal combination. Coupled with that of the slow, deep thrusts in and out of your tight cunt. One thing that you loved about him was that he wasn’t afraid to be vocal. He didn’t shy from the fact that he was feeling good and wanted everyone to know. “Mmmm…Onyyyy…” “I know, mama. I know..” it went without saying, you were certainly enjoying this and he’d do everything he could to make the situation the best he could. Keeping you reigned in close to his chest, Ony persisted with his thrusts, trying to slowly get you to conform to his shape and so far, it was working.

“There you go, baby. Open that shit up..lemme have it.” Soon, the sounds of thumping and smacking began to fill the atmosphere and you’d feel those strokes become a little faster. It was then that you’d feel the swollen tip of that girthy cock not only stretching you out but precisely hitting your spot as well. Once he knew this was your sought after core, he’d hone in on it and pound away with precise thrusts; even rolling his hips and reaching a hand down to massage your clit. You’d have a moment where you’d falter and that, along with those beautiful eyes rolled back. “Fuck!..f-fuck..yes!” However, he thrived off the satisfaction of seeing your expressions and how they shifted, the deeper he got.

“Unt uh..eyes up here. Lemme see that pretty face while I fuck you..gimme that pussy, baby. Yes..”

You found his commands so sexy and soothing. His voice was soft yet stern and you felt comforted by his tone. It was no wonder that you’d become nearly entranced by him. The smacking sounds only grew louder and that was thanks to the fact that you were a dripping puddle between your thighs. Pearly white secretions leaking everywhere, even coating his shaft entirely and making quite the mess. In one fell swoop, Ony shifted from cradling you to his own body, to pinning your legs to the mattress and spreading you wide open. From this angle, he’d have an ideal view of those voluptuous tits bouncing each time he thrusted. Or just how that plump cunt looked swallowing his cock.

“Oooh..you creaming all over my dick, baby…shit’s so fucking sexy. You like the way this shit feels?” “Y-yes, daddy. Thank you, thank you!—“ declaring so with his thumb pad rolling on your clit and a long trail of saliva coating your lips. He didn’t relent, even when you’d squeeze down on him. It was every bit of eight inches and you’d nearly taken all of it at this point..you couldn’t believe it. “I just knew your shit was good..knew this pussy was the best just by looking at you.”

which made the both of you break into a slight giggle. But you certainly had help getting to this point. This was a newfound sensation and your body was reacting accordingly.

“You bring it out of me..fucking me like this—“ the incoherent babble was followed by something that would only further prove his point. When he’d keep gliding back and forth, speeding up his movements..that’s when it happened…

“Oh shit!—“ “AHH!! FUCK!…” as you’d whimper and cry out, even pawing at his abs as those streams of juices began to spill out and hit not only the linen underneath but his torso as well. Marking his decadent skin with splashes of your liquid. He’d never seen and you’d never experienced anything like it!

“..look at you squirting on that dick, baby...” although you were beginning to feel depleted, your body craved more of him. You wanted to keep going until either of you could move another inch. A wish that would soon come to fruition when you felt Ony’s thrusts become a bit more sporadic and off rhythm. He’d begin to falter, falling prey to your sex. Admittedly, it’d been ages since he’d had sex or a proper orgasm to boot but you were on a whole other playing field! The plush of those thighs, the ripple of that pudgy tummy and big tits, not to mention, the warmth of your wet hole…it was simply too much for him to fathom!

“Onyyyy!..” the louder you cried out, clawing into his skin; albeit his back or his abdomen, the more motivated he became to give you the most pleasure he could possibly help you attain. Even so, he’d make certain of your well-being all throughout. Asking if you were okay to keep moving..not doing so without explicit instructions and checking constantly to see if your expressions matched your sounds. He only wanted tears brought forth from joy and ecstasy, not pain. But the smile plastered on your face was pretty indicative of how good you felt! “Haaa..yeah, baby. I’m right here—tell me what you need…”

clinging to the last semblance of dominance he could muster, Ony slowed his pace down back to the original and held you close once more. He needed it..not just your body, but you in your entirety. He needed to hear you say that he was the one that you desired…that he could officially be your special person and never let you go for as long as he lived. It was all he had wanted, since the day he first cast eyes on you. When he first saw you in those shirts and sweats with his favorite series on it and when he first saw you in those cosplays. It was a moment that he not only wanted to remember but keep reliving. He wanted what the two of you had to last for an eternity…“..I love you....” the words sending your heart fluttering like butterflies in a garden. It was all you had been waiting to hear come from his mouth. Ony thought he’d never truly be able to utter the phrase and it has substantial weight behind it but now, he’d found his one and only who made the words come to life.

“I love you too, Ony…” so with a gentle stroke of your fingers to the side of his face, right there in that hotel room…the two of you consummated what had long since been established. The feelings of adoration for one another that could not be contained. It wasn’t long before either of you would reach your peak and before long, he was heaving and holding onto you with the last remnants of his strength.

“..come. Come for me, Ony…come in me..”

With that, you’d answer his earlier question and he’d have no problem fulfilling your request! He’d spotted you taking your birth control pills once you returned from dinner so any qualms he had dissipated. “I’m coming!…imma nut—“ veins bulge from his forehead and hands as he continues rutting into you. Ony’s fingertips grasped the headboard behind you and would serve as his balance as every ounce of his warm seed began to trickle into your inviting womb..you’d both reach that climatic peak together and following your stream of sexual secretions, was a trail of joyous tears shrouding your faces. Heavy gasps and breathless whimpers escaped your throats before you collapsed into one another’s arms. Once you were both back in the realm of reality, lying underneath him, (y/n) didn’t waste another moment before pulling him into a searing, passionate kiss. One that neither of you wanted to break.

but alas, your gazes would meet and you’d break into a fit of light chuckles.

“How you feel? You good?”

“Oh I’m just fine…are you good?”

poking fun at one another’s reactions in that final moment of ecstasy. But you were both feeling quite well after that. And you wanted nothing more than to keep reveling in it but tomorrow the big day awaited and you both needed rest…

“I’m straight…I mean, shit…you put it on me for real..where you learn to do them lil’ tricks at?” Referring to your earlier display of waterworks but you’d have to tease him once. “A lady never reveals her secrets..” you’d tease back, pursing a finger to his lips before he’d slowly began to pull out, dragging a string of pearlescent cum along with him and splattering a bit on your tummy on the way out. “Besides, I gotta finish your outfit before I fall asleep—“ “Unt uh…you ain’t getting up until you drink sum’ and wipe off. I can get you some snacks from downstairs too.” That’s when he’d roll over and crawl out of the bed, going over to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth and some water from the mini fridge adjacent to the foot of the mattress. He wasn’t going to let you up until he made certain you could handle it. That was Ony’s overprotective nature for you. But it came from nothing but the purest intentions.

“That is not necessary. I’ll be fine.” “Yeah, but you my girl…and imma always take care of you. So hush.” Kissing your forehead ever so gently before sitting at your side and running that rag over your skin. It felt quite nice and you were glad he made you rest for a moment because your body had been through a foreign experience and he made every single second of it magical…you knew that you wanted to create more memories like this with him for as long as possible. Albeit a convention, a date or even kicking it at his place as you watched him play video games. You just wanted to remain in his presence and remain his girl forever.

“Aye, you gone let me sleep in the wet spot?..I wanna stay cool tonight.”

“..Ony, get away from me, please.”

even if he did work the last good nerve you had sometimes!

[drchucktingle]

Something I’ve been curious about if it wouldn’t break the bit: are you one buckaroo or several sharing a name and persona?

greetings bud thank you for asking FIRST OF ALL want to say to you or anyone reading this post that i am not upset over this question and i am not upset with you. you have kindness in your trot and i know you are just asking to prove love in your own way. buds reading this please do not harass this person in fact maybe give them a follow or a like, they are trying their best.

OKAY NOW THAT IS OUT OF THE WAY i will talk on my feelings of this with simple statement:

this is not a bit.

i understand it can be difficult to accept this for some, especially in world where absurdity and cynical humor is so popular, but i am very sincere. even though i make jokerman jokes sometimes, even in my writing, tinglers are not supposed to be funny as a concept. if you laugh at them that is TOTALLY OKAY i understand this way when confronted with something out of the box but that is not the point of them at all. the point is that LOVE IS REAL for everyone (there are other points but that is a broad one)

now on to why i trot my trot in this way. first off is to protect my privacy this is simple enough. when i talk on son jon or sweet barbara or any other way i am adding a layer of secrets by changing names or relations or towns but that is just a fancy outfit for the real truth. i am NOT creating a character, i am protecting myself.

second and more important is that when i TALK IN MY UNIQUE WAY i am expressing myself without masking, which is something old chuck does every single day out there in the world as someone on the autism spectrum. i am VERY GOOD AT MASKING you would probably not know chuck was autistic when talking to me unless you were a close bud. but unfortunately this masking way creates very real tension in my body. i have trotted with CHRONIC PAIN for most of my life heading to emergency rooms where kind and handsome t-rex doctors could not figure out what the heck was goin on. basically LIVED in the dang emergency room. eventually chuck learned i carried my body TOO TIGHT from masking all the time, but what i realized is that allowing myself a space to type freely without way of punctuation or other restrictions and LETTING MY HEART SING to just be myself without masking made this tension release. pain started going away. GRAND IRONY of course is that when im trotting as chuck i wear a pink mask to take off my OTHER MASK of a neurotypical bud.

that is why i protect my way of speaking freely as well. if someone says 'well you need to talk like this right now' i stand tall and say NO BUD THIS IS MY SPACE AND I WILL EXPRESS MYSELF IN THIS WAY AND YOU AN TROT ON IF YOU WANT. this is firm boundary for me and my health.

anyway buckaroo to sum that up again: yes i am one person and this is not a bit

if you want to know more about my way on the autism spectrum i wrote a tingler about how it feels to have others say you are 'playing a character' and not actually neurodivergent. i think tumblr buds might enjoy so i will add it down here LOVE IS REAL thank you for your question

NOT POUNDED BY THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF SOMEONE ELSE'S DOUBT IN MY PLACE ON THE AUTISM SPECTRUM BECAUSE DENYING SOMEONE'S PERSONAL JOURNEY AND IDENTITY LIKE THAT IS INCREDIBLY RUDE SO NO THANKS

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

[eoieopda]

insomniac | ljh (m)

there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.

summary: it’s 2:00 am, and you can’t turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); there’s a sentence about reader taking “an inadvisable amount of melatonin gummies” — don’t do this! — but they’re not impaired in any way; reader’s internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip i’ve attempted for months. ✰ minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoon™️, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i haven’t written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that i’m exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isn’t incoherent garbage. 😵‍💫 dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.

You should be asleep.

With the day you’ve had, you should’ve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you should’ve stayed that way — unmoving, unconscious — for several hours, at minimum.

If the week’s worth of sleep debt wasn’t exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.

From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, you’ve listened. You’re burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you. 

It’s not, though.

With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: it’s beautiful.

But it’s not enough.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely he’s got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time you’ve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths he’s aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, you’d rather die.

Taking his silence as a sign that you’ve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him. 

Nothing.

But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts. 

“Fuck,” you mouth to no one.

It wouldn’t be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.

You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict.  

Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him. 

He’ll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see won’t be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine.

If you go to sleep right now, you’ll get five hours and thirty —

“You haven’t unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,” notes the world’s groggiest voice from over your shoulder.

Jihoon’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you might’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.

He shifts again. This time, there’s no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isn’t separate from yours at all.

With the distance erased, his face — the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks — can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.

“What are we spinning our wheels over tonight?” He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.

The fact that he can’t see your face doesn’t stop you from frowning. Yet again, you’ve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you don’t need him to. You’ll hold it against yourself — grudge by proxy. 

“I don’t even know,” you admit with a frustrated huff. “There’s nothing coherent going on up there.” You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. “Nothing articulable, just… blender brain.”

“Mmm.”

Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, you’ve learned that you’re incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when he’s got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.

A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, you’re convinced that he’s fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.

“How do we unplug the blender?”

You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isn’t his.

When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. “Hmm?” 

He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, “I can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and —”

The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if he’s conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.

You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, “What’s the second thing?”

His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. It’s simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. It’s more than enough to make you shiver:

“Making you cum.”

But as crazy as that statement makes you, you can’t make yourself act on it.

At any other time, you’d jump on that opportunity — jump on him — in a heartbeat. All you’re able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound. 

Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.

He’s only offering so you’ll stop keeping him awake.

He’s as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.

Burden.

Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. “I love you,” you start. He stills. “But, Jihoon, you’re so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. It’s okay — I’m okay.”

Jihoon doesn’t push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, it’s yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, “Love you,” before relaxing back against the pillows.

Minutes pass.

Maybe hours, for all you know. 

As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know you’re wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what he’s offering.

The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.

Maybe you’d be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just — fucking — sleep.

Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.

You fail.

Maybe, since you can’t sleep, you and your wilted little brain should’ve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu —

“That’s enough,” Jihoon grunts.

The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.

Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but it’s not the sudden moves that shook it loose; it’s the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. It’s the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which must’ve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.

The very best you can come up with is, “You’re awake.”

“So are you,” he retorts without missing a beat.

That face — god, that face — doesn’t budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern you’ve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isn’t even remotely harsh when he continues, “If those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.”

Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoon’s eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.

He speaks when you don’t, hard edges softening slightly. “I can fix it,” he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there. 

Let me take care of you.

That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort you’ve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.

“I have to admit it, though,” Jihoon confesses. “Yours isn’t the only mind that’s restless.”

He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snail’s pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.

“I’ve been holding you for hours now, and all that time —” 

He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasn’t.

“— I’ve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me —”

His touch whispers over your collarbone. It’s the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, it’s not an apology that you’re keeping to yourself but a whimper.

“— or lay you back against the pillows —”

You don’t mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you can’t help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath you’ve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.

Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. “— Take my time, and —”

Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. “Fuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.”

Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry. 

You don’t, thankfully. 

Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling. 

“I want that,” you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, “No, it’s not even want. It’s —” Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. “— need. I need you.”

You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again. 

Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. There’s no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.

Though he’d be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesn’t. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesn’t say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.

Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.

With your chest bare, it’s obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: “Let me take care of you.”

And you do.

You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.

Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You should’ve known this would be the case. 

He said he’d fix it, didn't he? 

And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.

Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, he’s equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, he’s downright celestial — almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.

Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, “You’re beautiful.”

His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesn’t groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward — just barely — and he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” you quietly insist.

Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. “You’re relaxing, remember?”

Though you could double-down, any fight you might’ve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps — which ultimately isn’t much at all — to keep from floating away.

“Bold of you to call me beautiful,” he murmurs against your body, “When you just exist like this.”

You don’t argue. You can’t argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.

With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.

Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he can’t get enough of.

As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.

Eloquent as always, you moan, “Fuuuuck.”

The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.

It’s incredible.

No, it’s fucking perfect.

Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and it’s over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.

Apparently, he’s just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.

Your questions overlap.

“Did you just —”

“— make me cum from this?”

His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, “Oh, shit.” Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, “Goddamn.”

A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know he’s facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but that’s not a conclusion the pair of you can just — leap to. 

There’s simply too much of him to take if he doesn’t fuck you open with his fingers first.

Jihoon shakes his head, as if he’s telling himself no. Like he’s reminding himself of what he promised — or threatened, more like — earlier, that he’s taking his time.

As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldn’t. So, you don’t. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach. 

With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, “You’re perfect.”

Not generally, no.

However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isn’t a battle worth picking. In this moment, you’re willing to entertain the possibility that you’re perfect for him.

A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth must’ve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes he’s lost.

You’d be content to stay this way forever — and likely could, if it came down to it — but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.

Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you — the one you’re still thinking about; the one he’ll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.

“Listen to you,” he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers. 

As if you weren’t already acutely aware of the way you’ve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isn’t enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.

You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesn’t let it affect his pace — just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.

His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. “I think you’ve got another one for me, don’t you?”

Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.

“In fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,” he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. “Think you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.”

You think you’ll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.

When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, it’s not a clap of thunder but a roll — patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does — makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.

Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. It’s anyone’s guess whether you have any bones left. You’re sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoon’s body caging you in.

“Don’t ask me what my name is.” Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, “I do not remember, and I do not care.”

He kisses the temple that isn’t smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. “If you’re spent, I can sto—”

“Don’t you dare.”

The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, you’re sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesn’t. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.

“I’ll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.”

“Easy, tiger,” he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The whole point of this was for you to relax.”

To prove that you haven’t lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely. 

You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, “Jihoon… Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. “But I can’t fuck you unless you give my arm back.”

Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if he’s asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.

Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s a sight you’ve seen a thousand times — his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire — yet it’s one you’ll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that he’s never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.

If you’re being honest, that’s one of the things you’ve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; he’s never been caught sweating.

The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when he’s this incomprehensibly hard.

Really, you don’t deserve him.

Nevertheless, you get him anyway. 

Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.

In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you — trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.

“Deep breath,” he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.

It’s good advice — something Jihoon probably should’ve heeded. 

He doesn’t. 

You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, that’s precisely what’s causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.

When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.

To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. “Alright?���

Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, he’ll understand; he always does.

Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch that’s erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.

Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.

To prove it to yourself that you’re not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised — slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body must’ve learned to keep him close.

“Love the way you grip me, but...” Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, “You keep that up, and I’ll cum too soon.”

He’s one to talk.

Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge. 

If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there won’t be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it — to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls — to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you — to feel so fucking full —  for as long as he gives you. 

It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.

“Oh.”

One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.

At least you’re not the only one.

“Fuck, fuck —” 

Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoon’s body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. “— Fuck,” he groans, all the while twitching inside you.

Though he slows, he doesn’t stop. It’s not until he pants, “Kiss me,” that you realize it: Jihoon doesn’t intend to stop.

Neither, it seems, do you.

Maybe you’re greedy. Maybe you’re too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, it’s the way his cock doesn’t soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.

You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. It’s indulgent — messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.

“Can you still speak in sentences?” He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.

Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say. 

“I’m — you’re gonna make me —”

You can’t choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didn’t even know existed; there’s no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.

He’s caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again — hard — and the arms bearing his weight buckle.

Jihoon’s flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.

“What just happened?” He sounds as delirious as you feel. “That was… shit. What did your body just do?”

You have no idea. 

You have no capacity to form any.

All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound — not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.

Eventually, although you can’t imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You don’t see anything that happens next, but you feel it all — the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.

“I’m coming back to clean you up,” he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, “Don’t move.”

I won’t, you think but don’t say.

And you don’t move.

At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.

svt taglist: @ashonheavenscloud @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rasparagus @bouclesdefeu @ourkivee @sourkimchi @gyuguys

multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon

also paging the cap gang: @daechwitatamic @yoongukie-ff

[colourstreakgryffin]

Sorry if this is spoiler-ish!! ;-; But can I request a scenario where the reader, who’s married to Alastor, is having a nightmare where she loses Alastor? This can be after the battle where she almost witnessed Alastor get killed and it haunts her still. Of course with some comfort from the Radio Demon himself at the end :’3

Not spoilerish! I’ve watched the Adam V Alastor fight in full detail and I ABSOLUTELY LOVVEEE this idea! You’re a legit genius, my dear! Thank you so much! Have a wonderful day! First we had big bro Al, then Dad Al, then BF Al, then best friend Al and now, we have best one: husband Al!

Alastor- Staying Here

It’s been happening nonstop for days… days. Weeks. You can’t sleep like this. Every night, the same nightmare but formatted differently like being tortured over and over again but with a different method. It’s almost like that awful angel has re-manifested and is getting back revenge on Alastor by submitting you to night terrors that have been destroying your sleep schedule

Waking up with a nasty shrill of fear and a cold layer of sweat, your body flung upwards with your eyes shooting open after such a terrible dream, tears welling up in them… your beloved husband, Alastor, slept right next to you with his tall deer-like ears twitching. Knowing that he’s still here and not erased by the head exterminator, Adam is such a relief. Especially since that same Angel, Adam himself, is the reason you’ve been having daily nightmares about a violent and gorey erasure scenario of Alastor with Adam. Adam laughing manically, killing off your husband in the most bloody and ruthless way, wounds all over his body, the radio effects dying out…

It’s awful. You can barely sleep and it’s making you deprived of just a single good night

Sobbing under your breath, right next to your seven year husband. Alastor’s ears twitch once more but this time, as a sign to wake up as well for his peacefully unconscious brain. Yawning and stretching out with a long drawn-out radio glitch in literally no time, his broad body sitting up with you leant over and sobbing into your hands. His crimson eyes looked over to you after a bit longer of waking himself up and just like that, he went from wondering what happened to immediately concerned

“Darling… what’s wrong?”

Alastor asks soft and sweet, his radio voice overtone has completely disappeared so his own organic voice is the only thing remaining. He didn’t even get a chance to speak again since you immediately clung onto him and buried your face into his chest, sobbing and crying for him to never leave you. Alastor doesn’t know what’s wrong but he won’t just let his beloved wife suffer

You legit have to sob and hiccup through your words, telling him about every detail of your repetitive nightmares and Alastor’s body tenses up in pure disgust and malice, mainly towards the idea of being erased by Adam, the now long dead head exterminator. He wouldn’t let him put his hands on himself or you, he loves you way too much. Alastor rubs his hands through your hair, letting you cry into his chest until you finally get over it

You need to cry out your fear and feelings until you can be rational and logical to think. Get the emotions out first

Alastor silently waits for you to come back to him, gently pressing your body together with his, one hand on your back to trace through soft shapes and the other stroking gentle brushes through your hair until you can finally just melt in his embrace, calm down and feel safer with your still very alive husband. Yeah, he was quite close to being erased but he escaped and he has recovered from his injury

“My dear, my love. How long has this been going on?” The guilt to lying and not telling Alastor sooner is already eating your heart apart. You just felt too shy to even drop him a hint about your midnight distress since you always assumed he is already too busy with the Hazbin Hotel to be able to prioritise your minor problems. Your nightmare issue isn’t actually a minor problem at all, that’s what you think but Alastor can see, clear as crystal, that this constant nightmare over him thing is breaking your psyche

“S-since it happened…” Alastor’s eyes widen in shock. You’ve been dealing with nightmares on the daily for two weeks?! How did he not even notice?! God, he is so pissed off at himself and just keeps rocking you, gently laying you down and cuddling you, continuing to massaging rubs of your big menacing hands. The wedding band over his left ring finger rubs on the silky thin fabric of your pyjamas and he can feel the wedding band on your own left ring finger clinging onto him like your hands clinging on his waist

Alastor continues to speak, not remaining silent since it may end up making you believe you’re mad at him for staying silent. He isn’t as mad as his body may seem, he is just worried sick for your health and your mental health over these constant nightmares that are driving a wedge inbetween your sleep schedule. His lips drop down and kisses your forehead, keeping up the sweet, caring and loving tone

His husband tone

“Darling, dearest. I am not mad at you, just embrace me and recover. I’ll make those night terrors go away” Alastor continues to comfort you, soft, quiet and sweet. His soft peppery kisses all over your silky-skinned face, your rosy cheeks. Anything to make those streaming tears halt and your now red puffy demonic eyes. He loves you and he has been neglecting this very serious issue. It’s now his job, as your loyal longtime husband, to take care of you

How grateful you are that Alastor is always right next to you and the nightmares you deal with will never be reality. He’s safe, you’re safe and he is going to be holding your hand through your recovery process

“Would you like to go out and get some fresh air with me?”

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BROKEN SILENCE : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ John Wick x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Kidnapping, mentions of torture, trauma, ptsd, emotional and physical abuse, angst

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are kidnapped by a mafia group seeking revenge on John Wick, enduring weeks of brutal torture for refusing to reveal his whereabouts. When John finally finds and rescues you, you're barely recognizable, shattered by the ordeal. He takes you home, gently caring for your wounds and helping you recover.

THE WAREHOUSE SMELLED OF BLOOD AND FEAR.

John Wick’s steps were eerily silent as he moved through the decimated hideout. The bodies littered around him were evidence of the storm he’d unleashed, his rage manifesting in every gunshot, every blade that tore through flesh. He had come for you, and nothing would stop him. The moment he heard you’d been taken—kidnapped, tortured—his world had become singular, focused on one thing: getting you back.

He kicked open the last door, heart hammering in his chest. The room was dark, save for a single, flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. And there you were—tied to a chair in the center, bruised, bloody, barely recognizable. Your head hung low, limp like a ragdoll. The sight of you ripped something primal inside of him. He moved quickly, holstering his weapon, eyes scanning you for signs of life.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, dull and lifeless, yet still aware. You tried to lift your head, but the weight of your injuries and weeks of torment held you down.

His hands trembled as he untied the ropes binding you to the chair. Your wrists were raw, chafed from days of resistance. You hadn’t broken. Even when they starved you, drowned you, beat you until you could barely breathe, you hadn’t given them anything. Not a single word about John. Not a hint. But the cost of that defiance had hollowed you out, leaving behind a shell of the person you used to be.

When the ropes finally fell away, you collapsed into his arms, too weak to stand. He caught you easily, pulling you into his chest.

“John…” you croaked, your voice nothing more than a rasp, a faint echo of what it once was.

“I’m here," he murmured, holding you tightly. His voice broke, the cracks in his facade showing. “I’ve got you.”

You didn’t respond, and that killed him more than anything. You, who used to be so full of life, who laughed with such ease in his arms—now you were silent, staring past him with a blank, haunted look. He could feel the tremors running through your body as he carried you out of that hellhole, each step a reminder of the weeks of suffering you’d endured without him. Each step weighed down by the guilt that crushed him.

When he brought you home, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The warmth had bled out of the walls, leaving only a cold, empty space that mirrored the emptiness in your eyes.

John helped you into the bathroom, his touch gentle, almost afraid of breaking you further. Your skin was marred with bruises, cuts, the evidence of everything they’d done to you. He drew a bath, the steam rising in the small space as he eased you into the water. You winced, your body so broken that even the warm water felt like a new kind of torment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, though he wasn’t sure if you even heard him. His fingers were careful as they washed away the grime and blood, every touch a silent apology. He washed your hair, his movements slow and deliberate, as if each gesture might undo the horrors of what had happened.

But you were silent still, your eyes closed, face pale and gaunt. You didn’t cry. You hadn’t cried once since he found you. He didn’t know whether that was a relief or a worse kind of nightmare.

After the bath, he dressed you in one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your fragile frame. He led you to bed, helping you under the covers, though you lay there like a ghost, staring at the ceiling.

~

Days passed, and you began to speak again. Slowly, haltingly, like you were relearning how. At first, it was a few words, barely audible.

"Thank you," you'd whisper when he brought you food, though you never ate more than a few bites.

"Okay," you’d mutter when he asked if you needed anything, though your voice always trailed off, as if you were unsure of what you were saying.

He watched you, never leaving your side for long. He was patient, though the fire inside him still raged—a quiet, controlled fury, always on the verge of exploding.

One night, as he sat beside you, you turned to him. Your face was drawn, eyes glassy, but there was something behind them now. Something fragile, yet real.

“John…” Your voice wavered, and for the first time, he saw the tears welling up, the flood you’d been holding back. His heart clenched in his chest as you reached for him, fingers trembling.

He was by your side in an instant, taking your hand, feeling the chill of your skin.

“They… they didn’t stop.” Your voice cracked, and then the dam broke. “They kept… they kept hitting me. They tried to drown me. They wanted me to tell them where you were… but I didn’t, John. I didn’t tell them.”

Your words came out in gasps, sobs choking you as the weight of everything you’d endured came crashing down.

“I thought… I thought I was going to die. Every day, I thought this would be it. And I kept thinking about you… about how I couldn’t give them anything, not after everything we’ve been through.” Your voice wavered, breaking. “But it hurt so much, John. It hurt so much.”

He held you then, pulling you into his arms, his heart shattering with every word you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, over and over again. “I’m so sorry.”

You buried your face in his chest, sobs wracking your body, and for the first time since he found you, you cried. You let it all out—the fear, the pain, the hopelessness you’d carried for so long. And John held you through it all, his hands trembling as he rocked you gently, whispering the same promises again and again.

“I’m done,” he said quietly, his voice low but firm. “I’m done with this life. I’m not losing you again. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You didn’t respond, but he felt the way your grip tightened on him, the way your body finally relaxed in his arms. He made the vow then, to you, to himself. The world could burn, but you were all that mattered now.

John Wick, the assassin, was no more.

———

I watched the first two John Wick movies today and I’m lowkey crushing on John so i decided to write something small…i might make more oneshots about him🤷🏽‍♀️

[majosullivan]

Nevermore Dashboard Simulator

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can we all agree to stop making jokes about each other’s deaths? Making light of someone’s death even as a joke is really gross

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

No I was murdered so I can reclaim it

85,958 notes

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Okay but can someone tell me how posts here are getting so many notes? There’s like around 100 people at the academy and I’m frequently seeing posts with well over 1,000 notes. Like, it would be one thing if these posts were years old but some of them are from 2 days ago. Did I just miss the memo and everyone here has at least 10+ accounts, like WHERE are you guys coming from?

👻 hourofsecrecy Follow

Can the spirits not show their appreciation for people’s commentery? Can the creatures of the night not find humour in wits and gists of others? What is the difference from the newly departed and the Unseen Ones?

⏳ dream-within-a-dream Follow

Absolutely horrific answer, thank you for your time

26,496 notes

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Tell me why it’s around eight in the morning and the first thing I see while heading to the dining hall is Lenore PINING Annabel Lee AGAINST A WALL

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

🪱 conqueror-of-worms Follow

Care to clarify who the hell you were referring to in this post?

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Yes

3,270 notes

🎈 floatinghoax Follow

After everything the afterlife could have been, you’re telling me that I have to go to SCHOOL and have CLASSES that start at 9AM? Truly tempted to walk straight into the wasteland, there’s only so much a second chance at life is worth

#not to mention with have fucking ROOMMATES #this academy is MASSIVE #you’re telling me there isn’t enough room for single rooms in this place?

7,984 notes

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

I’m curious, who do you guys think you could take in their spectre forms?

🥀 wilted-rose Follow

IN A FIGHT

69,285 notes

🎶 decomposingmusic Follow

You’re not about to manifest your spectre, you’re just dehydrated

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

out of the way gay boy i’m boutta separate myself from my remaining mortal ties and embrace the abilites of my spiritual form

🩰 ghosting-giselle Follow

nures rom

173,032 notes

🌙 voyage-to-the-moon Follow

do you think the Deans wake up every day, take one look at us before telling Ms. Poppet ‘PUT THOSE BEASTS IN SITUATIONS!’

2,396 notes

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Does anyone know if Duke and Pluto (the two boys friends with Lenore) are an item or not? Cause any time I’ve seen them interact, Duke has consistently referred to Pluto as Mon Minou (my kitten in french) and I’m not sure if the two of them are together or if they’re just…Like That

🌃 eveningstar Follow

UPDATE: SO IT TURNS OUT PLUTO DIDN’T KNOW WHAT MON MINOU MEANT AND FOUND OUT THROUGH MY POST. HIM AND DUKE HAVE BEEN BICKERING ABOUT IT ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE DORM ROOMS

🌃 eveningstar Follow

Despite what you would think would occur from this development, none of this has answered by original question

#I was just curious if these two were gay or just European #by all accounts they might be both

6,974 notes

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

I think I’m about half with through the manor right now? Honestly this lesson is going much better than I expected!

🍋 gives-you-lemons Follow

RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS RATS R&)26?83@/$

5,052 notes

☔️ dew-dropped-nights Follow

[about to be eaten by one of the monsters in the Teraphobia trial] okay but do you think I’m cute? Be honest

4,824 notes

🪐 eureka Follow

Do you think that Annabel Lee and Lenore have ever explored each others bodies

🌷 many-coloured-grass Follow

Can you fucking not do this? Not only are they real people, they’re our classmates and clearly can’t stand each other. Stuff like this is weird and gross

🔮 sorcery-sorcery-sorcery Follow

I bet they fucked nasty up at the widow’s watch

🥂 drinking-into-the-grave Follow

This is actually how Lenore won the Mystery Manor lesson

☠️ spookyxskeletons Follow

Sometimes that butch pussy gets you acting unwise

🏵️ pendulum-in-the-pit Follow

THAT

WHAT

🪦 deadgirlwalking Follow

What’s not clicking

29,496 notes

[loliwrites]

The One You Need | two

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni  summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.1k part one | joel miller masterlist  a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best

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It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.

1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .

2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.

3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible. 

4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source. 

How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.

You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.

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Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return. 

Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.

“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”

“Good, I… I need your help again,”

Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.

“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”

There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”

He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.

You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”

“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”

“What’re you implying?”

Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”

Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”

“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”

“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”

“Fancies me?”

“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”

Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.

The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal. 

It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not. 

This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.

“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”

Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”

“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”

“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”

Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”

“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”

“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”

“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”

“Does she know that?” 

“I’d say she does,”

You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”

“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”

“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”

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The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.

“It works again?”

Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”

“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”

He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”

“You just fixed my fridge.”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I should be cooking you a meal,”

He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”

“Joel,”

“Seven.”

With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.

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But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.

It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.

They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.

“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.

Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”

He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”

“You must be close with him,”

Joel nodded absently.

“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”

He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”

“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”

“Kelly…”

“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”

Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”

You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”

He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.

Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”

“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.

“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”

This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”

“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”

“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”

“Joel, come on, you know…”

“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”

You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful. 

“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”

Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man. 

Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”

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What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.

Who knew how to hurt you better than you?

The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there. 

That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”

You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.���

“Say anything,”

Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.  

“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.

With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.

Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”

“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.

“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”

He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”

You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”

Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.

“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”

He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:

“No fillers in the meantime?”

It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”

“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.

“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”

He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”

“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”

He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”

The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted. 

In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.

He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”

Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.

While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch. 

He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,” 

Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.

“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped. 

“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.

You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.

Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you. 

Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.

“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not. 

But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

[punkpandapatrixk]

🍀Lady Luck on Your Side ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

There is no economic system that’s perfectly perfect. Whatever system you’re in, what’s wise to do is make the best out of all streams of possibilities viable within that system. Transcend above the stupidity and strike your Lucky 3 (Jupiter’s number LOL)🍄

In Astrology, the Lady Luck is represented by Mother Jupiter—the planet of expansion and good luck. The thing about luck, Love, is that you can’t plan around it. You can only prepare yourself and your resources the best you can and then gamble it all away. Gamble your fucking Life away at big endeavours that you know your Soul intends for you. Have faith in your divine abilities, bitch~🐞

If you fail, you learn!🐌

You are a Luck Magnet for as long as you believe in yourself. Be confident in that the essence of your beingness is enough for manifesting all you’re meant to see manifest in your lifetime🍀

Jupiter Sign: the psychology with which you philosophise shit

Jupiter House placement: areas of Life most blessed by the grace of Jupiter’s expansion

Planets in 9th House: indicate a need to expand beyond a simpleton mindset!!

‘The secret is not to chase the butterflies but to take care of your garden so they’ll come to you.’ – an old proverb

SONG: Baby Face by Sakamoto Maaya

MOVIE: Cruella (2021)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Patiently Revealing All Your Glorious Petals

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – Knight of Pentacles Rx

I’ve got to say your opportunities are the most unique here, and very likely quite challenging in that you must have patience. Lady Luck says that the path most suited to your lucky money involves your being a ghost. Hustling in secret, hiding your plans and spiritual truths from everybody else and treading very carefully on the way towards your goal. This could take many years! For many of you, this could be the loneliest path because nobody around you seems to understand your visions, or the intuitive nudges you know your Higher Self is directing you towards🛴

You were put in environments where most people don’t understand you (or they simply don’t share your visions) because your Higher Self intended for you to exercise navigating adversaries. This was part of your Soul’s scenario, you know. Stormy seas make the best sailors, kind of scenario. In that sense, you’ve been met with many uncomfortable situations, even dangerous and painful encounters and goodbyes to advance your evolution. Fear not, for you have not lost but gained valuable perspectives what will ensure good karma returning to you when you’re older🎆

For the majority of you reading this, your Jupiter will begin to really shine a light on your real lucky career path after you’ve graduated your first Saturn Return. Typically, by the time you’re between 29 and 33, things will get that much clearer and you’ll regain your motivation (if you’ve lost it at some point) and feel really glad you’ve made it thus far. The future accessible to you will begin to feel astonishingly clear and you will be excited but still need to work on that patience LMAO

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – Page of Wands

Having said all of that, many of you reading this may feel quite frustrated at the idea that you’re only gonna get your successes at a later age. Especially if you’ve survived your first Saturn Return and you’re only beginning, you may have felt quite like a loser in comparison to these 20-somethings already achieving so much in Life… But, who’s to say all of that is gonna last? Sometimes, people gain a lot at a young age only to have all of that swept away by the time motherfucking Saturn returns to get them LOL Well, that, too, is part of their spiritual evolution, so~🙏🏻

Remember that you’re not in a competition with anybody or even Destiny itself. To increase your luck daily, Jupiter is saying: enjoy every single day you get to make progress on your true ideal career. Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, and if you aren’t yet where you envision yourself to be, you can still enjoy every single step you manage to take on a daily basis to get you closer to where you want to be. You’re learning and gaining momentum, aren’t you? All these little steps matter in the grander scheme of your Higher Self’s orchestration to bring to your doorstep all that you deserve📦

Of all the piles, I have a strong feeling your manifestation is the most guarded by the Higher Realms. You’re meant to go through hoops and learn to prepare yourself very well so that you could build a strong foundation that is sure to have longevity. The thing you’re meant to do, to have, to express, to create and build, unlike many, many others who need to learn through gain and loss of the very things that matter to them, is going to be yours forever once you establish it. The whole idea of unlocking achievements in accordance to age is pure scam. You are safe and perfectly on time🎯

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – Knight of Wands Rx

Let me let you in on a secret. Mental clarity/health is absolutely paramount to your success story. Plenty of young people get crowned with massive successes without having a strong foundation of morality or empathy, and least of all, spirituality. For example… How many times have we heard tragical Hollywood stories where young celebs/influencers became the IT girls/boys very early on only to crumble and get shattered by the time they’re in their late 20s or early 30s? (Saturn freaking Return!) All because they’re so out of touch with reality🤷🏻‍♀️

Not saying they’re terrible seeds per se, but perhaps it was their environment/upbringing what didn’t allow them to bloom beautifully the way you are with your emotional and spiritual maturity. Whatever career choice you have in mind, know that when you’re finally established there, you’re going to be so based, so grounded in reality that everybody is going to have immense respect for you for the things you say and contribute to your cause📢

Your lucky break may indeed require a slow, careful planning, all behind the scenes, too. You are meant to develop in the fog and mists, away from the beady eyes of those who might seek to trample over everything you’re building. Nobody would ever guess what your next lucky chapter would look like! But you do. You do so well because you’re working on it every day, diligently and resiliently. Maybe you don’t know yet, but Lady Luck is visiting a lot sooner than logically expected hahah And when she carries you through those winds of change…🥂

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💙

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Clarity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Resiliently Growing in the Mud

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – 2 of Cups Rx

Harmony is definitely integral to your spiritual sanity. You’re not the type of person who can thrive in a dog-eat-dog industry. When people are ugly to each other at the workplace, it fucks most of your brain’s functions up. This coldass capitalistic system doesn’t suit you; and if you can’t seem to catch up, it’s not because you’re a failure, but because you’re wired towards a more high-vibrational existence. An existence where people’s interactions are generally pleasant and—in some instances—beautiful💞

There must be some significant Libra/7th House or Pisces/12th House placements in your birth chart that are pulling you towards creating harmony in your work environment. Being surrounded by ease and beauty is of paramount importance to your optimal functioning. If you’ve ever experienced some kind of a professional heartbreak from betrayal/cruelty by co-workers or bosses, that environment ain’t where you belong, and it is perfectly safe for you to eject yourself from that hellhole. There are better things more suited to your Style🌈

Lady Luck says you may be more suited to working alone until you establish yourself enough to make collaborations with others who are quite similar to you in terms of their general politeness and delightful visions for the world. Wow that’s a longass sentence. For example, a vibe I’m getting is a small business owner selling whatever beautiful and creative things you can produce on your own. Even if not selling, you could have, for example, a YT channel showcasing your real-time painting or any other interests/talents you may have and get money from rolling ads🎞

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – 6 of Cups

If you’ve ever had frustrating, or even painful, experiences in the corporate world—whatever the setting may be—that whole ordeal was truly teaching you the importance of working with just a small circle of trustworthy individuals to move forward with. Integrity is crucial in your daily choices. Sharing ideas and stories with kindred spirits is the way to go in your case. That you never betray your own purity, that you don’t give in to selling your Soul to the Devil, that you never let yourself kowtow to the System…

All of these brave decisions are what’s going to be favoured by the Lady Luck. In different scenarios this endeavour may take some time, but don’t fret, because for most people, accessing the Power of Jupiter does take some maturing. It does take some experiencing, some intel-gathering, some philosophising over many, many things that are eating away at your sanity. The moment you become clear about those wrong things is the moment you regain control over your daily choices🍭

You may want to look at what your 6th House sign and placement entail for your healthy habit-building~ You’re a bit of a Faery Soul, an Elven Soul, or maybe a Mermaid Soul; you’re gentle and more sensitive than most Humans. Maintaining harmony and balance in your everyday Life is key to increasing your Luck daily. You’re spiritual and creative, and so, if you allow yourself to indulge in soulful activities as part of your money-making endeavours, Lady Luck is going to gladly visit you every day~🌬

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – 5 of Wands Rx

It isn’t to say that you’re meant to only live a secluded, hermit lifestyle. As mentioned earlier, you could benefit from working alone when you’re just starting on your passion project. You’re more suited to working solo and figuring things out yourself as you build a livelihood that’s generally pleasant every day~🌌

When you’ve raised your vibrations enough and be super charming and confident because you’re making money by living authentically, you’re going to become a magnet for amazing, one-of-a-kind, kindred spirits who are just as unconventional as yourself. You’re going to be glad because your connections and relationships are going to be exciting without stupid dramas. This in itself could lead to amazing collaborations with those who share similar visions as yourself🌉

You are definitely amongst those convention breakers who will show others that operating on nothing but the spirit of competition in the professional world is dumb as fuck. People thrive when they collab with those of similar tastes and minds. When all’s said and done, you’re meant to have a Life of ease and a lot of cheer with unique individuals living high-vibrationally interesting lives, carving your own alternative existence~💠

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💛

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Green Astronomer (Nicolaus Copernicus)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – It’s Like You’re Growing Money on Trees, My Goodness!

lucky money (insights into lucky career opportunities) – Page of Pentacles Rx

It’s clear you’ve done some heavy shadow work, maybe it’s only begun quite recently; but for some, this may have been ongoing for quite a number of years. Whatever the case may be, and however old you may be, there’s this feeling that you’re starting over. You’re just beginning to live again. This time around, you’re living on your own terms; you’re feeling, ‘This is who I should’ve always been!’ And you feel incredibly glad, for the most part😶

It’s perfectly normal to feel sad sometimes, after all, a lot of shit you’ve faced. For quite some time, you totally bought the hustle culture—the thing about it was that you were ludicrously hard on yourself. I sense a majority of you reading this are Millennials? Or perhaps older Gen Zs. Anyway, your expectations on yourself were hurting you so much. After some shadow work, you realised da problem wasn’t you; it was the System. You were scammed big time🤬

Thus you quit a whole industry and began cultivating your own Art. This is the spiritual pile for sure. I sense many of you reading this resonate with being a Lightworker, Starseed, or a Mystic even. You could be doing tarot readings yourself; running a blog channelling cosmic messages from higher beings; some could have a YT channel dedicated to New Age spirituality or esoteric occult knowledge; and some could even be a detective or in the investigative field. WHOA. If you’re not already doing these thing, Spirit Guides are saying you would be very blessed by the Lady Luck if you thrust yourself into these types of work😘

lucky daily (ways to increase luck every day) – 5 of Pentacles Rx

Whoa… do I need to give you any advice or anything? Bitch, you cracked the code! You’re practically a master manifestor at this point in your Life. I sense some of you reading this may not resonate just yet but you’ve literally transcended far above the need for money. Right now, if you allow yourself to calm down, you’ll realise you could just sit down every day and money grows on your trees~🌳

You’ve quite become an embodiment of your Higher Self, and that Oversoul of yours knows you’re unlimited. There is no more lack in your subconscious, let’s just put it that way. Now your conscious, your logical brain, just needs to adjust to this new paradigm (if not already) and you will be effortlessly attracting the means to afford all that you need to move forward. With 5 of Pentacles in reverse—namely a trauma card—Spirit Guides are saying you’re in a healing phase right now🧸

If—IF—certain days you feel tired, fatigued, drowsy for an entire day, and just unmotivated to work even on something you’re passionate about, please know this is your body still recuperating from the adrenal stress caused by long years of having to hustle or simply having a hustle mindset. You’re not doing anything wrong and you’re not failing, OK? Your intelligent body is just telling you it’s safe to slow down now. It’s perfectly good to sleep aaallll day and just feed and clean yourself for 5 consecutive days if that’s really all you can do to maintain mental and spiritual balance. That spiritual balance is what’s going to effortlessly manifest all the abundance you’re so deserving, so don’t be afraid of ‘missing’ some work days~🛌

lucky strike (big blessings you’re destined to obtain) – 4 of Cups

There is a sense of stability that you’re going to manifest pretty soon in your Life (if not already LOL). In some regards, this stability could even feel rather boring, uneventful, just because you were quite used to having a lot of chaos in your previous chapter of Life. But this stability will serve as a big ‘rehab period’ for you to truly shift your paradigm. And then, once you manage to get all your ducks in a row in your new paradigm…🦆

Pretty soon you’re gonna see everything in your Life move quite fast. If by any chance you’ve resonated with this: ‘I feel like everything has changed so much, yet nothing seems to have changed at all…’ please know this is actually yourself slowing things down so you don’t manifest another set of stressful unfolding of events! This was preordained by your Higher Self! Hahah…

The reason for this is that at this point in your spiritual evolution, you’ve become really particular about high-quality manifestations you’re willing to entertain within the construct of your own Reality. So much so that you simply won’t entertain the manifestation of good opportunities if it’s going to be stressful. NO STRESS is a big part of your magick. This concept literally goes beyond just material things; pretty soon you’ll see that you’re only manifesting high-quality experiences, environments, encounters, and even Love🦢

DESTINY SERVING TEA🔻💜

mother Jupiter on your side (message from Jupiter) – Gold Alchemist (Roger Bacon)

merging with your Higher Self (the weight of destiny) – Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[charmedreincarnation]

Hello sweetie💌 I accomplished the void last night and I want to share my story with you. Well, first of all I did a few days of self concept (I didn't do anything special, I listened to subliminals and reminded myself that I already have it). In fact, when people said that the self-concept was something important to the void, I didn't take it very seriously, I thought it was a limiting belief. but such an idea came to my mind, I tried not to achieve the self concept void, but to make me realize that I already have what I want. In this process, I really achieved great results, I felt better now, family problems decreased as much as possible, and most importantly, I realized my unlimited power. and here is the day i entered void!!!

It was evening hours, I didn't specifically listen to a meditation or a frequency void subliminal. I lay down on my bed, closing my eyes and concentrating on my heartbeat, just with an idea that I was sure was going to enter a state of emptiness. I relaxed my body, then repeated the familiar affirmations inwardly (like I was in the void) After that, I got to the most important stage, my body started to take off, it was like I was floating in a vacuum. I suddenly realized that the sounds were gone, the flashes of light before my eyes and the darkness that followed were pulling me in. At that moment I realized that I was in void and said my wishes.

My manifests:

• I passed a university exam and it cannot be said that I was that successful. so i first manifest the result i want.

• I added the foods that I had been craving for a few days on a board I created on Pinterest, I wanted them to be in my closet when I woke up.

• 50 kg and my dream body type

• The most beautiful state of my own face, free of all my insecurities

• a pet cat

• Every time I want to just close my eyes and affirm, enter the void in seconds.

• Albums and magazines of all my favorite kpop groups

• some anime manga

• mastering the manifest, the instant reflection of my wishes on my reality

• have a perfect self concept

• that my mother is completely healthy and peaceful

• a laptop, a new tablet, the latest headphones and my dream phone

• large amount of money in my safe for myself

• My dream room and also a closet to put my snacks

I had manifested that all my wishes would come true the moment I woke up. The first thing I did when I woke up was to look at the phone and it was exactly what I wanted! then i got out of bed and looked around my room, it was exactly the same as in my dream! then i checked my new tech and money, they were in place too.everything was exactly how I wanted it! I literally felt like a dream, but it was all real. After I suppressed my excitement, I heard my mother's voice, she was saying that the exam results were announced. I entered the site from the phone and checked my result! I have quite enough and an excellent result for the university I want!

I just want to say, you can achieve anything, my dears! Just discover that limitless power and don't give up no matter what. You don't have a single thing missing from successful people, first realize that. You are in control of your reality and it is up to you to shape it according to your wishes. I will give an example from myself, I had so many problems that I was not even in good health. I overcame all this myself. And now I am very happy, living my dreams. take care of yourself, believe in yourself, believe that what you can do is limitless, respect your achievements. I believe in you.

I’ve gotten so many success stories lately. I won’t post all of them and still don’t plan on coming back but I promise I see them and I’m so happy for y’all even if I don’t post it 💓💖💖💖

[greynatomy]

daydreams

leah williamson x reader

little something that i’ve had in my drafts for a while.

i also just hit 500 followers, so thank you all for that. i appreciate every single one of you and i’m happy that you’ve loved what i’ve written.

let me know what you think!

-grey

———

“I got one last song for tonight.” ‘Awe’s’ can be heard through the room.

“I know. I know. Now. This song. Its one of my favorites that I’ve written and I wrote it in like two hours, right after some alone time with the Mrs… if ya know what I mean.” Y/N said with an exaggerated wink, making the room laugh.

“She’s a very inspiring woman. Most of my songs are about her, so, without further ado, this is Daydreams.”

She's all I read She's all the literature that I'll ever need She's poetry

But she's like the good kind that doesn't make me sleep Her eyes are porn and she knows it Won't shut her eyelids 'til she gets invited We're not keeping score, but she's winnin' Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

You do tend to get lost in her eyes, especially when you see nothing but love and lust in them.

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

———

In the crowd, three friends came to watch the show together.

She likes the word, "Please" But not the polite kind, the one in the sheets She knows she's a tease She's here for a good time then she's gonna leave

“Whoever her wife is must be real freaky in them sheets.” One friend states, unaware of how one of her friends’ cheeks were turning red.

She'll start a war and she knows it Won't stop her fighting 'til my flag is rising We're not keeping score, but she's winnin' Likes it when I'm singin', as long as it's for her

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

Daydreams, they feel like livin' when I'm dreamin' about her She's all I breathe when I should be breathin' air She knows I'm weak, yeah I Daydream every day about the things we do at night

“That was Daydreams, It will be release soon. For now, thank you all for coming to hangout. Until next time. Bye everyone, get home safe.” Y/N closed her show off, waving to the crowd, walking offstage.

“She’s so dreamy.” Lia Wälti stated to her friends.

“So hot.” Both Lia and Beth looked at Leah with a teasing smile. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup. I would say to get with her, but apparently she’s married now.”

Leah’s cheeks burn red. “Shut up. Let’s just g—”

“Leah Williamson.” Leah was interrupted by a security guard.

“That’s me.”

“You’ve been requested backstage. If you and your guests would just follow me.”

“Leah?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are we following a random person? He could be kidnapping us.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Following the security guard into a room, they were told to wait there and left, closing the door.

“Is this is the part where we die?”

“Lia!”

“You’re basically manifesting it to happen.” Beth stated, with a roll of her eyes.

“I promise I won’t kill you guys.”

The three of them turn around, seeing the one and only Y/N Y/LN. Two out of the three appear in shock.

“You- you’re Y/N Y/LN.”

“I am.”

“OHMYGOD I LOVE YOU!” Lia yelled in excitement.

“Thank you!” You turn to Leah and give her your biggest smile. “Hi, Leah.”

Leah quickly goes to you and wraps her arms around your neck, yours going around her waist.

“Hi, darling.” Leah leans up to give you a quick kiss.

“YOU KISSED Y/N YL/N!”

“Okay, Lia. Let’s go outside to calm down for a bit, yeah.”

“I’ll meet you guys outside. Let me get showers and changed first.”

The two footballers walk out the room, Leah closing the door.

“Wait, if Y/n Yl/n is married and you just kissed her, does that mean you’re married to her and she wrote a song about your sex life?”

“LIA!”

[rivkae-winters]

You Will Rot

I adore this entire scene and their entire exchange and there are plenty of other posts out there on it but I’ve never come across the points I wanted to make hence why I'm writing this. Specifically on the implications of exactly what rots since that latched into my brain and would not let me go.

As always: this is only my interpretation of canon, there is no one true analysis to take as gospel. In fact please interact with your thoughts if you have any! I enjoy talking to other people about this sort of thing, fandom is all about discussion after all!

My stance on this line is one of nuance. I tend to think Sephiroth chose the worst words he could think of without fully considering the full implications.  He said the thing he knew that would hurt Genesis the most after the entire conversation beforehand.

What does it mean to be told to rot? Or even so told you will rot. 

In the FF7 universe, most explicitly displayed in CC, bodies dissolve. Corpses, both monster and human, are depicted as dissolving to return to the Lifestream. This is re-confirmed in the remake. 

Rot is not a term for humans, it’s not a cultural concept the same way it is for us in the real world. To decay and decompose are not processes that sentient beings undergo.

Rot is something for objects- things that live but aren’t alive enough or connected enough quote-un-quote to return to the Lifestream in the same dramatic manner. Rot is for things like food and flowers and things that are below the level of humans or animals or anything with general sentience. 

Sephiroth is telling Genesis here, he is not just a monster: he is insignificant. He is telling Genesis that he is not enough of a sentient being to return to the Lifestream and he’ll continue falling apart in real time just like a piece of fruit left forgotten and rotting on the kitchen counter. He is telling Genesis that at the end of the day he’s already dead in every way that matters and is no longer a person. Sephiroth is telling Genesis that he will have no mercy given to him at the end of the day: he will rot and waste like an object lacking sentience and then he will be left there.

Sephiroth is digging into Genesis’s own deepest insecurities here. Genesis fears not just being irrelevant but being rendered a non-entity, to be kept or out of control. Genesis has defined his entire life as a journey to be someone to be enough to be someone worthy of love and praise and being seen. Objects aren’t people, and Genesis is an object to Sephiroth with that statement. 

The only person who could help him no longer considers him a person- nor a thing with sentience. 

Obviously this is all over analyzing Sephiroth’s dialogue. This line was said with calculation, yes, but it was also somewhat reflexive. Sephiroth is under a lot of stress in this scene and Genesis has been slinging everything he never wanted to be told at him in a single conversation. Genesis then has the audacity to try to act as if he did something good. While Sephiroth’s world is collapsing around him and his other defected friend acts like he did him a favor. Sephiroth is angry, who wouldn’t be angry. Sephiroth thought the world of Genesis prior to his defection, he thought the world of both of them and those illusions have been crashing down around him.

So he uses Genesis’s own grief over his former friend’s tattered life that manifests as self deprecation and self dehumanization against him. He confirms the de-humanizing rhetoric that Genesis has been attaching to his own existence. Sephiroth in his pain and anger pushes past the fears that Genesis has been externalizing to what he knows Genesis is truly afraid of. 

If Genesis considers himself a monster than by the standards of the person Sephiroth thought he knew he is already living out his worst fears. He is nothing, he is nothing without his mind. If Genesis wants to be what he once considered a non-entity: wants to wallow in the rot and non-personhood so much then he can. 

Sephiroth turns his back on, in his mind, the moving corpse of the long dead Genesis Rhapsodos and walks away. 

You will Rot You are Nothing

There is also something to be said here for the Kanji used in the original!

I’m not touching on this as much as I would have liked to but it would be criminal if I didn’t at least pull out a Kanji dictionary.

I pulled Sephiroth’s line from here; warning the website is not in English at all but easy enough to navigate via context/knowledge of story events and the characters' Japanese names. 

Sephiroth’s line is: 朽ち果てろ kuchihatero

This is translated in the official English release as “You will rot” and in a pre-US release fan translation from May of 2007 roughly the same way as “Go decay”

朽  Decay; Rot; Remain in Seclusion

果  Fruit; Reward; carry out; achieve; complete; end; finish; succeed

[1][2] [3 specifically for 朽][4 specifically for 果]

Thanks for reading!

[kybercrystals94]

Blame to Share

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 20 - Prompts: Emotional Angst // Giving Permission to Die // "It's not your fault."

Rated: G | Words: 594

It’s been one year today; although nobody says it. 

They silently speak it in their postures, their eyes, their subduedness. 

Their silence on the subject screams, an agonized wail in a yawning chasm that is loss, mourning, and regret. 

Crosshair hears it. Because it’s his fault, isn’t it? That Tech is gone? Of course it is, and he won’t listen to their kark about it being Tech’s choice, that he did what he did because he loved all of them. That Tech did what he did to save them, and they will honor his sacrifice. 

Crosshair doesn’t want to be soothed, doesn’t want to be absolved. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he tells his siblings at midday meal.

He has to leave, because he doesn’t know what he’d do if he stayed. 

“Where are you going?” Wrecker asks. 

Crosshair won’t meet any of their eyes, their gazes make his skin burn. “I need some time.” 

“We understand,” Hunter says. 

Crosshair believes they will try, and hopes they never do. 

He finds a quiet beach, gathers wood for a fire, and puts out his bedroll. He goes fishing for his late meal, standing in the surf, waves lapping around his knees. He roasts his catch over the fire, the crackling of burning wood integrating with the song of swelling nighttime. The stars appear, constellations Crosshair doesn’t know the names or patterns of forming before his eyes. 

Tech would know. 

Tech knew almost everything. 

And he shouldn’t be dead. 

“Who gave you permission to die?” Crosshair demands of the void where his lost brother should be. 

“Tech rarely asked permission for anything,” Hunter replies. 

Crosshair scowls into the flames as Hunter steps into the circle of firelight, a pack over his shoulder. 

“I said I’d be back tomorrow,” Crosshair tells him. 

Hunter tosses his bag next to Crosshair’s. “Told Wrecker and Omega the same thing.” 

“I said I need some time.” 

“And you got some.” Hunter sits down in the sand across from him, the fire between them. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“You don’t know anything.”

“I know you’re blaming yourself for what happened to Tech.” 

“And you don’t?” Crosshair spits. 

“I blame a lot of people,” Hunter says. “I blame the Empire, I blame Hemlock, I blame Saw Gerrera…I could go on and on, but I don’t blame you.” 

“But did you?” Crosshair asks. “Before?” 

Hunter sighs, clasps and unclasps his hands. “I blamed you for a lot of things, before. Doesn’t mean all those things were justified.” 

“If I hadn’t sent that message, you would never have been on Eriadu.” 

Hunter huffs. “Message or not, Crosshair, we would have come for you. The moment Tech found your CT number on the prisoner manifest–”

“Why?” Crosshair interrupts angrily. “I earned that prison cell, Hunter. You should have left me there!” 

Hunter frowns at him. “By the Empire’s standards, Crosshair, we all earned that cell, even Omega.”

Crosshair thinks bringing their sister into it is a low blow. “It’s not the same.” 

“Here’s the thing, Crosshair,” Hunter says. “You weren’t with us, and I made a call.”

“Stop it,” Crosshair whispers. 

Hunter doesn’t stop, shadows flickering across his face, the gleam of tear tracks catching in the light. “So, if any of us are to blame, for any of this…it’s me, Cross. Got it? Every single call I’ve made our whole lives, the good and the bad, I’ll have to live with.” 

Crosshair swallows. “Sounds like we’ve both got our share of the blame then.” 

Hunter doesn’t answer. 

Maybe there’s nothing else to say. 

END

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