#i’ve loved you since i met you and i love you more all the time 🥰

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ his name ; lh43

➪ summary: 3 times luke sees his girlfriend with his name on her back

➪ warnings: luke being utterly obsessed with his name on his girl, this is not at all proofread !

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ file type: fluff fic

➪ cupid's notes: i've had this in progress since october so it might be a little shitty it might not be. i absolutely am in love this idea and i am so happy that old me came up with this! i did cut two scenes out but don't worry... they'll be making their appearance sooner or later. also this is for my lovely elise who i would assume did actually end up falling asleep so this is her good mornign present @digitalhughes-jpg

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

1. matchmaking - the day y/n and luke met

She had been dragged out of her dorm by her roommate, she had no desire to go be surrounded by a bunch of people. Nonetheless, she couldn’t really pass up the opportunity to go watch college hockey, it was too intriguing.

So there she was, standing in Yost Arena, in one of her friend’s old Michigan shirts from when Bella’s brother went there. They stood excitedly amongst the rest of their friends and other students who had found their place around them, watching as the team celebrated the goal they had just scored. 

It was only halfway through the second period that her mind put together that the guy’s name she was wearing across her back was the same as one of the player’s names on the team. She furrowed her eyebrows as she scrolled through her phone, looking over the roster. 

She was quick to put Luke’s name into Instagram, navigating her way to Quinn’s eventually, finally realizing that he went there at the same time Bella’s brother had. It was probably just a weird coincidence, it didn’t mean anything. But she wouldn’t put it past Bella to be planning something. It was just who she was. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After the game, their group of friends lingered in the hallway waiting for the hockey players to emerge from the locker room. It was never brought to her attention that so many of her friends had known some of the guys on the team, mostly because she was never all that curious to ask. 

She and Bella strayed from the group, huddling against the wall and talking about something random when a group of 5 or more players came out, laughing about something one of them had said. When her gaze found a familiar face, she cocked her head to the side trying to figure out where she had seemed him before. It didn’t take long for it took click, causing her to go still in shock, so her Instagram stalking ‘skills’ did prove to be useful.

She was snapped out of her trance when Bella jumped, an arm now thrown over her shoulders. The two of them looked up in sync, now staring at Owen who stood taller than the two of them, “Hey.”

Y/n looked between the two of them confusedly before the girl opposite of her smiled, “Y/n/n, this is my boyfriend, Owen, and Owen this is my best friend y/n!”

The boy nodded and smiled, “Nice to finally put a face to the name Bella brings up every time we hang out.”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow looking over at her friend, “Wow, I’ve never had someone talk so much about me.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s more in love with you than she is with me.” Bella hit Owen across the chest before giving him a look.

He glanced down at her before what seemed like recognition flashed in his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned to look over his shoulder, eyes trying to find a familiar lanky figure, “Oh right. Luke c’mere!”

To the side of them, the rest of y/n and Bella’s friends stood next to the four remaining hockey players, one snapping his head up to look at the trio. He excused himself from the group before making his way over to them, smiling awkwardly, “Hey.”

“So you’ve met Bella,” Owen gestured to his girlfriend who grinned and waved.

Luke nodded his head, his nervous smile still plastered on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Before Owen could get another word out, Bella’s excited voice filled their ears, “And this is my best friend, y/n!”

Said girl made eye contact with the boy, her cheeks flushing, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

An uncomfortable silence fell around them before Bella once again made her presence known, “Well Owen and I have a reservation to get to so we’ll see you later.”

“But I thought we were-”

“Bye, y/n/n!” The two stumbled down the hallway and only got so far before they let out amused giggles. 

The rest of their friends had already left, leaving as soon as Luke had made his departure from the group. So now, y/n stood next to him, embarrassed by the situation the two had been shoved into. For a moment, they just kept stealing glances at each other before Luke spoke, “Do you want to get some food? I mean we don’t have to but I just thought since they kind of left us that you-”

She cut him off with a laugh, “Sure.” 

The two started making their way down the hallway, making small talk about the most generic things. When they reached the door, Luke opened it and ushered her through, y/n’s small ‘thank you’ making its way to his ears. 

As he stepped out into the parking lot, the October air making its way through his jacket, his eyes trained on the letters on the back of her shirt, “Where’d you get that shirt?”

She stopped briefly, remembering what exactly was on her back before she spoke, “Oh uh Bella’s brother went here when yours did and she just stole this shirt from him and then gave it to me to wear tonight.”

He nodded, and the two of them walked down through the parking lot toward his car. Silence fell around them once again, a chill making its way up y/n’s spine. She shuddered, pulling the sleeves of her shirt around her and before crossing them over her chest. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her, “Here.”

“Oh I’m fine, thank you though.”

“Hah as if, take it.”

Reluctance shone in her eyes but the stubbornness that shone in his was too heavy to ignore, so she took it from him and wrapped it around herself, sighing at the newfound warmth it brought her. They reached his car only seconds later, Luke opening the passenger side door, waiting for her to climb in. 

Once she was, he closed it, walked over to the driver’s side to get in himself, turned the car on, and put the heat on full blast before pulling out of the parking lot and starting to drive through campus. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Dinner came and went, the two of them stopping at one of the local restaurants in town before he dropped her back off at her dorm room. When he put the car in park, the two of them stole glances at each other, breaking out in a laugh once their gazes met. 

“Thank you… for dinner.”

Luke nodded, “Yeah ‘course.”

She slowly opened the door, stopping to hand him his jacket that he had loaned her earlier. He smiled as their hands brushed, taking the fabric into his hand knowing full well that as soon as she was gone he would just throw it haphazardly in the backseat. 

“I um-” he started, stammering over his words as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. A beat passed and he let out a breath before locking eyes with her, “Do you want to hang out sometime?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks despite being out in the cold, she blinked a few times before nodding, unable to keep the grin off her face, “Yeah. I’d love to.”Luke watched her walk to her dorm, studying each letter of his last name splayed on her back. While it was his name and his number, it wasn’t truly his. But he’d make it his mission to see his jersey on her, even if it took all the time in the world.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

2. new year, new meaning - the first time y/n wears luke’s jersey 

It had been almost a year since Luke and y/n had met, hanging out every waking moment they could. If Luke was somewhere cross-country, they would set time to FaceTime each other, giggling like middle schoolers as they talked. 

But today would be the first time wearing Luke’s jersey… as his girlfriend. To say she was nervous was a complete understatement, not that she was worried Luke would make fun of her or anything, she knew he would do quite the opposite actually. Yet, the thought of other people even just thinking something about her doing it to get attention made her uncomfortable. 

She toyed with the ends of her braids, staring at herself in the mirror of her shared dorm room. She was still rooming with Bella, who had been watching her from her bed since y/n had started getting ready, but the girl had certainly lost her enthusiasm for going to games with her boyfriend in Buffalo now. 

She adjusted the baseball cap on her head before turning to look at her best friend, “Yes? No? I don’t know maybe I should change-”

“Y/n stop it,” Bella hopped off her bed, making her way over to the girl and placing her hands on her shoulders. “You look amazing, you look hot, if Luke doesn’t take you out after the game, I will.”

She let the tension release from her shoulders, taking a deep breath before nodding, “Yeah… okay.”

The two drove to the arena, making comments here and there about how the team would do this year, whether Luke would be called up or not this year, how Owen was adjusting to his life in Buffalo, etc. They walked into Yost Arena, hand in hand as they navigated their way to their seats. 

She had been so in her head that they had gotten there about 10 minutes before the game started causing them to have to find their seats quickly. Y/n hadn’t seen Luke since yesterday, she had been too busy with classes to allow him to come over or to go over to his to see him, so she was left with not seeing him until after the game. 

Throughout the whole game, her eyes were trained on her boyfriend, watching as he skated across the ice, took a few hits, and caused a few altercations with the opposing team. As the clock winded down, her thumb made its way to her mouth, biting at her nails as she tried to keep up with everything that was happening. 

When Luke scored the game-winning goal, she was all but silent, screaming out how happy she was that not only they had won but he had been the reason they had. It made her buzz with excitement as they made their way down to the tunnel, exchanging a few words with some of the people they passed that they knew. 

Her feet had started aching from standing too much, so she found comfort against the wall and pulled out her phone no doubt going to play Block Blast. She was too into the game to notice Luke standing above her, it took him to place his shoes right up against her for her to look up, a bright grin spreading across her face, “Lukey!”

She stood, going on her tiptoes in order to wrap her arms around his neck, “M’so proud of you.”

He buried his head into her neck, bending down to do so, as his arms snaked around her waist, bringing her as close as possible to him, “Thank you, baby. Think you’re my good luck charm.”

His hand shamelessly made its way down to her ass, giving it a soft pat before pulling away to stare at her. She blushed under his gaze and from his small action, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. Y/n didn’t have to see Luke to know that he had a smug look on his face, lips most likely turned up into a smirk. 

“You look good in my jersey, baby.” His hand rubbed circles on her back, trying to coax her to remove her head from the confines of his chest. 

She mumbled a soft ‘thank you’, her arms now around his torso. He didn’t say anything more, just soaking in the moment with her, standing there in silence. He was one of the last ones to leave the locker room but by now he was sure all of his teammates had already left and the fans had all cleared out. 

“C’mon, it's late. Let's get you to bed, hm?”

She nodded, finally pulling away and lacing her fingers with his as they walked out of the arena and towards his car.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke laid behind y/n on his bed, toying with the end of her jersey, wrapping the fabric around his finger, “Did I tell you how good you looked in this?”

He tugged at it, making her look over at him, “Just briefly, I think, yes.”

“Briefly isn’t enough. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He glanced up at her face just in time to see her look away and the pink flush on her cheeks. 

He whined, “Don’t look away, wanna see my pretty girl.”

“You’re so needy.” She teased lightly but complied nonetheless, maneuvering so she was lying down beside him, facing him as he had wanted. 

He moved his hand up to her face, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She fell asleep quickly after that, exhaustion catching up with her as soon as she lay down. He huffed out a laugh, moving to take her jersey off so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable while she slept. 

He did his best to not look as he slipped his shirt over her head, not wanting to push a boundary that he wasn’t sure they were ready to cross yet. He changed himself, slipping on a pair of shorts and another random t-shirt he found lying around before crawling back into bed, the image of her in his jersey permanently engraved in his mind.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

3. new jersey - her first new jersey devils game in her new jersey

Thanks to Jack, getting out to New York had been easy for her. With no classes on that Friday, she was able to fly out Thursday night, landing at almost midnight and heading to the hotel with Jack. Luke hadn’t questioned why his brother was leaving their apartment at 11, assuming that it was just some weird late-night craving that he needed to fulfill. 

The next day she sat surrounded by the other wives and girlfriends of the Devils at UBS Arena watching as they faced the Isles. She had initially planned on going to one of their home games but this had been the first game she was able to attend and she couldn’t wait any longer to see her boyfriend play professional hockey.

Her streak of being a good luck charm at his game continued because he got his first goal of the season early into the second period. The cheers were loud around her and she wasn’t sure if it was her own cheering or if there actually were other people doing the same thing as her. 

She looked down at what she was wearing, it was different to see the red fabric and the Devils logo staring back at her but she smiled as she thought about how far he had come since the two of them met. She was so unbelievably proud of her and she would trade anything in the world to see him as happy as he was. 

Devils fans across the arena were beaming with excitement as they exited, Jack had just scored their overtime game-winning goal, and everyone, save for the Islanders fans, couldn’t have been happier.

She waited in the tunnel with some of the others like she had done countless times before back in Michigan. She played with the edge of her jersey as she rocked back and forth on her heels, making small conversations with those around her. 

A loud voice caught her attention followed by a laugh, “Just walk out backwards! Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you that’s the problem.” She could recognize her boyfriend’s grumbled voice from a mile away, a grin appearing on her face at the annoyance that was ever so present in his tone.

“Okay okay stop. Now don’t turn around ‘till I say so.” Jack ran to hug y/n, giggling into her ear like he was about to pull the dumbest prank possible on his brother. 

Luke turned when he was told to, his face looked more annoyed than she had thought it could be. He stared at his brother with an unamused look before his eyes drifted to his right, widening when he saw who was looking back at him, “Y/n/n?”

“What? Thought I would miss your first goal of the season. Never.”

His annoyed expression quickly turned around, making his way over to her to wrap her in a hug, “You’re here. Holy shit, how the fuck did you get here?’

“A plane.” 

He rolled his eyes, “You know what I meant.”

“Didn’t have any classes and I wanted to see you. Jack picked me up from the airport last night, stayed in a hotel, and now I’m here.”

The rest of the group had left by now, allowing the two to have a moment to themselves. He pulled away, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His eyes glassed over as he stared at her, it hadn’t really been long since they had seen each other, maybe a month or two, but it had been awful without her. 

“Lukey,” her voice was soft as she grabbed his hand, squeezing it with just as much gentleness, “Don’t cry, you dork.”

His laugh was wet, tears lacing it. He took his free hand to his face, wiping the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. She smiled at him, “You haven’t even noticed what I’m wearing yet!”

At that, he blinks the remaining sadness from his eyes, moving them to trail over her outfit, “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, turning slightly so he could. He moved her hair out of the way, placing it over her shoulder as his fingers traced over each letter of his name and the ‘4’ and the ‘3’. He stepped closer, leaning down to kiss her neck and her jaw before turning her back around, “Didn’t think you could get any prettier, but you always find ways to prove me wrong.”

She kissed him, hand cupping the back of his neck to bring him down to her level. His hands found their way to her hips almost instantly, sinking into the kiss easily. Her fingers tangled in his curls, giving them a slight tug once the need to breathe overtook her senses. 

Pulling away to rest her forehead against his, despite her having to go up on her toes, she moved her hand to cup his face. It took a few seconds before she spoke, still trying to catch her breath, “Proud of you, you know that?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I do.”She re-intertwined her fingers with his, swinging their hands back and forth slightly as they walked out of the arena together, making their way into the earlier chill of October in New York. If one thing was certain after today, it was that Luke would never get tired of his name sprawled across her back, or anywhere on her really. It was his favorite sight to see, one that would be in his mind forever. Plus, he couldn’t wait to make it her last name too.

꒰ NEW JERSEY DEVILS TAGLIST ꒱

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @rowdyluv @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman @this-ass-is-eikonic @delilaahh9 @winterbarnesblog @fantillisgirl

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

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[oceantornadoo]

ch6 the wrong john | masterlist | next

tw: idiots in love acting like idiots, reader is insecure i fear

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

--

Your cat likes John better than you and you can’t seem to care.

He coaxes her into the carrier with ease and you watch it like you’re not there, instead floating above your body. John’s hands rummage through your dressers, packing underwear and shirts and pants into the same suitcase you used when you visited base. There’s a joke in there somewhere but you can’t seem to find it, words turning to ash in your mouth. Johnny is missing, so there’s no reason to laugh. All you can do is stand in the corner, holding your cat’s carrier, watching a captain commandeer your apartment like it’s a mission. In five minutes, John has fit your necessities into two bags and has you out the door with a hand on your back. 

“You didn’t tell me her name yet.” You blink and there’s a black car in front of you, John’s hand pushing you into the passenger seat while he puts your stuff in the back and gets into the driver's side. The cat is on your lap, somehow not throwing a fit at her new home.

“Bubbles.” He hums, gunning the engine and turning the car into the familiar path to the airport. “Bubbles?” You glance out of the window, noting the day is as dreary as you feel. “She has a mohawk. Like Jo- my brother. He’s Soap, so I thought Bubbles…” Your throat tightens. Johnny’s missing and you’re sitting here with your cat, making stupid puns he would love.

John squeezes your thigh and returns his hand to the wheel. The loss of it is a shot to the heart. Now, you’re a victim to him. Sadness is not sexy. It’s painful but you try not to think of it too much. Everything is falling apart anyway.

“We’ll find him, sweetheart. Can tell ya more on the plane.” Everything is in slow motion. Bubbles licks your fingers through the mesh of her carrier and you focus on it like your life depends on it. 

“I’m supposed to work tomorrow.” 

“Already called ‘em. Y’r on sabbatical.”

“My plants…”

“Left a note f’ y’r neighbors.”

“How can I pay rent if I’m not working?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. ‘ve got ya.” 

You nod and close your eyes, wishing everything away like a bad dream. When you wake, you’re on a small military plane. Bubbles is next to you, buckled in. You reach for your phone to take a picture for Johnny, to show him your military cat, but your hand drops when you remember. The heat of John’s stare burns the side of your face, and it takes a few seconds, but you finally gather enough courage to face him. The look in his eyes is haunting. You can’t tell, but John’s been replaying the moment he lost two of his men over and over since it happened. When he closes his eyes, it’s all he sees. Opening his eyes is worse, seeing you in pain and knowing he can’t do anything to immediately fix it.

“Was s’pposed t’ be an easy mission. They got the drop on us. Would’ve been so easy to take all four but they only took Soap an’ Ghost. Ghost’s only family is Soap so we think they’re goin’ to target you next. They’ve got a vendetta against y’r brother. Old wounds an’ all that. You’ll be on base where y’r protected.” He pauses for a second. It’s now dawning on him that you’ll be a few meters away, the fantasy he’s been wanting, but under the worst circumstances. “Questions, sweetheart?” Only one.

“Will you find him?”

“I will. Don’t care what I’ve got to do to do it.”

When you get to base, Kyle is there. He’s looking worse for the wear, a new scar decorating his eyebrow. “You look very chic, Kyle.” He shakes his head, pulling you into a hug. “‘m sorry, angel. We’re gonna find him.” It’s the first time it’s really hit you. Maybe it’s the fact that this is only the second time you’ve met Kyle and he’s already treating you like family on account of your brother. Tears form in your eyes and he tugs you closer, rubbing your back as you cry. You remember you’re still out in the open, standing in front of countless guards, and start taking deep breaths to calm the tears. “It’s ok, let it out.” You nod against him, then pull back to wipe the tears away. Bubbles meows, desparate for attention, and Kyle’s ears perk up at the sound. “‘m goin’ to walk you to your quarters an’ you’re goin’ to tell me when you got a cat.” John’s already ahead of him, your bags in his hands, so you turn to Kyle and hand him the cat carrier. “So it all started with a dumpster…”

There aren’t spare quarters in the task force’s section of base, so you’re staying in Johnny’s. As if that wasn’t already terrible, you’re across the hall from John’s quarters. John’s disappeared, the bags he packed for you neatly set near Johnny’s bed. Kyle brings you to the room, already having bonded with Bubbles, and promises that someone will be by with dinner. Every second is precious to find your brother, so you can’t blame them both for having to leave.

Your idiot twin didn’t even make his bed before he left. You tidy his room, ignoring your shaking hands, then venture out with a bag of his laundry just to give you something to do. A kind lieutenant in the hallway directs you, and you can feel pitying eyes follow you to the laundry room. A civilian staying multiple nights on base is unheard of, but the rest of the soldiers there are used to the task force operating by their own rules. It seems some groups have left, the building feeling emptier and less lively since you last visited. Or maybe they’re just giving you space in this time of half-mourning, this purgatory of doubt. While you wait for Johnny’s clothes, you try to remember the path to John’s office. It takes you a few backtracks, but you finally make it back to where this all started. You raise your hand to knock, but a bit of eavesdropping reveals there’s at least five people in the room. Not wanting intrude, you go back to Johnny’s room and wait. Waiting seems to be the only thing you can do.

Hours later, after a tasteless dinner of mess hall food, you still can’t fall asleep. It’s past midnight and base is quiet. In your state of delirium, you drag yourself out of bed and outside your room, feet tracing an easy path to John’s room. It feels selfish, seeking him out when your twin is probably in some sort of hell, but you can’t prevent your hand from reaching his door. You knock twice, then curse yourself as the logical half of your brain wakes up and asks what the hell you’re doing. It’s too late to turn back. “Come in.”

John’s sitting at a small desk shuffling through papers. He’s got on blue light glasses you’ve never seen before, and the utter attractiveness of them stops your mouth from opening. He still hasn’t looked up yet, making small notes on the papers in front of him. “What is it?” Finally, John’s head tilts up, then straightens when he realizes it’s you. “I’m sorry, I’ll go-” “Don’t. ‘M sorry sweetheart, didn’t realize it was you.” You twist your hands together, feeling awkwardly uninvited. His space is hardly lived in, no personal effects to be found except a blue blanket on his bed.

“Somethin’ botherin’ you?” You nod, taking a step closer to his desk. “Couldn’t sleep.” He nods back, eyes shining with understanding. Rolling out his chair from under his desk, he spreads his legs in invitation. You answer it silently, shuffling towards him until you’re standing in between them. His actions are so at odds with how avoidant he was in the morning, but you’re too tired to care. Rough hands caress the outside of your upper thighs, then move up to your hips and waist. He rubs small circles, similar to how he did during your bathroom confrontation months earlier, and the motion already starts to calm you. John scoots closer to the edge of his chair until his face is flush to your clothed stomach. Instantly, you reach out to pull him in, hands sinking into the strands of his hair until you feel his glasses poke your stomach. His hands settle above your ass, never stopping their circular caresses. The angle is slightly awkward, a bit uncomfortable, but it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, namely being this close to the man that haunts your dreams. The two of you stand in almost-silence, breaths syncing until you can’t tell where his start and yours end.

“Sleepwithme.” You pull back until your hands cradle his face, smoothing over the creases your shirt left on his skin. “What?” He releases his hold on you to take off his glasses, setting them down on his desk. “Sleep with me.” Your heart drops, hands leaving his face. The implication that you two only seek each other out for sex is clear, and you can’t even blame him since that’s how it started. He frowns at you. “I’m not really in the mood for sex, I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow or…” John shakes his head, standing from his desk chair. “I meant jus’ sleep, sweetheart. Can’t blame you f’ jumpin’ to conclusions, I know I’m irresistible.” You roll your eyes, shoving him away. John catches your arm and pulls you into him, tucking your head under his chin like you were made to fit together. You let him hold you, nuzzling into him like you did the first night you meant. “I take this as a yes?” You nod against him. John turns off the light and ushers you into his bed. It’s a bit small for two until he tugs you on top of him, chest to chest. Your legs tangle, your arms flaying about for a better position until he tucks them around his broad shoulders. You can feel his muscles contract with every breath, how his heart beats strong as you shuffle your head up and into the crook of his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, baby.”

When you wake in the morning, your core is throbbing, and not in a good way. Your period’s early, a symptom of how deranged your mental state has become, and it would be fine until you remember the man under you. The man who’s seen you naked but not like this, not vulnerable in a way you can’t control. Early morning sun peaks through his curtains, reminding you that you’ve only slept for a couple of hours. The light reveals a small stain of blood on your pajama shorts and John’s boxers, a bit on his chest since he slept shirtless. It’s your worst nightmare.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You whisper-yell. John’s up and moving before you have the chance to take stock of the situation. Always a man with a plan, he peels you off of him, pushing you towards his ensuite bathroom. He murmurs sweet nothings you’re sure are empty platitudes, just him being nice. 

“‘S okay, jus’ some blood, pet.”

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

“Take a shower, be there in a second.”

In the shower, you want to bang your head against the tiled wall. The shock of your period almost erases the memory of Johnny being missing until it comes back in full force, along with worser cramps. Tears stream down your face, washed away quickly by the shower. Everything is unfair, and your hormones join the party to make it worse. That’s where John finds you, wiping away the puffiness under your eyes as the water turns cold.

“None of that, pet.” There’s still blood on his chest and he notices the same time as you do, shucking off his boxers and joining you under the shower spray. It’s not sexy, the first time you shower with John. You feel stripped raw, maneuvering yourself into the corner so he can have the water. John’s having none of it, tugging you into his arms. 

“John…” You murmur. Satisfied that you’re clean, he reaches around you to turn off the water. He’s so nonchalant that you’re both bare, that your body is bloated and sore in all the wrong ways. 

“What?” He finally replies. Getting out first, he hands you a towel, then grabs another to wrap around his waist. There’s a pair of your underwear on the counter, clean, and you question how he got it without leaving his bedroom. It’s a mystery not worth your time. He hands you a container of pads and tampons. 

“Where’d you get this?”

“My cabinet.”

“...Why do you have these?”

“Jus’ like to be considerate is all.”

His thoughtfulness collides with the fact that he has period products for any menstruating woman in his bedroom. Does this happen often? Do women’s bodies sense how safe and nuturing he is and just let loose?

“Jesus, why aren’t you someone’s boyfriend yet?” You mutter it, mainly to yourself, as you’re sticking a pad on your underwear. John’s head snaps up at you, eyes questioning. “What’re ya talkin’ about?” You ignore him in favor of putting on your underwear, stumbling with wet legs until John catches your shoulder. “That. This. All of this. The fucking period products. You’re like a walking template for husbands. How are you single?” Finally, you’re eye to eye with him, gripping your respective towels. His brow is furrowed, stubble slightly outgrown in a way you’re itching to feel. His eyes, normally blue like the ocean, are stormy. “Didn’t think I was single.” Um.

He walks out of the bathroom and you follow him to his closet where he’s digging for new boxers. “You have a girlfriend? How could you not…oh my god. I’m such an idiot. What, is she waiting for you at home somewhere?” Clothed in new boxers, he finally hits you with the force of his full glare. You almost step back under the cloud of his anger. “There is no girlfriend waiting at home. I thought you were waiting for me. Guess I miscalculated.” The weight of his words drags down your shoulders. You sit in his desk chair, mute as he gathers a clean set of fatigues. It’s only when he’s putting on his belt you finally find your voice.

“You thought we were dating?” He scoffs at your question. “Clearly, we’re not. Guess that one’s on me.” You fumble for something to say. “John, I told you, we can’t.” He shakes his head, and you note how he has to try twice to get his belt through his pant loops. “We can call and fuck and sleep, but we can’t date. Thanks for clearin’ that up, sweetheart.” He’s already lacing his boots and you’re still in his fucking towel, dripping water onto the floor. John approaches you and for a heartstopping second you think he’ll kiss you, but he just reaches around you to grab the paperwork on his desk. “Well, hope you feel better. I’ll be out workin’.” You nod silently, tracking his footsteps to the door. “John.” He stops with a hand on the doorknob. It’s the most vulnerable thing he’s ever done. Your tongue fumbles to find the right words, the right order to say them in, but all you can settle on is a “Thank you.” He shakes his head, not turning back when he replies. “I’ll see you later.” You busy yourself with gathering your bloody clothes, finding a T-shirt of his to wear so you don’t step into the hall naked. Tears threaten to fall but you choke them back, refusing to cry over him.

When that nice lieutenant finds you again, she tells you John’s been deployed, and he won’t come back until he finds your brother.

-

is anyone noticing how he uses different petnames based on the circumstances? no, just me? also i swear this has a happy ending we just have some idiots in love.

taglist

@lveegsoi

 @galactict3a 

@nova-willow-541 

@sirbonesly 

@starlightkitten19

@prettycatboy

@roastyyytoastyyy

@autumnheartsprice

@lucienofthelakes

@eyeless-kun

@bina-passion-fruit

@lilynotdilly

@lovenewfandoms

@tired-writer04

@sleep101

@konigsm

@mehjustalasshere

@alyssajofreitas

@thriving-n-jiving

[euphoria-looney]

Hold Me, Console Me, And then I’ll Leave Without a Trace, No One Noticed by The Marias

Before we start this has many ideas for authors and some are specific, so if you notice “Hey that looks like what idea I put into my post” PLEASE TELL ME, I would love to give you credit, bc I probably would have never made this without it!

and greatgooglymoogly (my friend, I don't discriminate against other greatgogglymoogly's) if you see this scroll, admire how aesthetic this post is and scroll./j

(This has a mother!darling and a daughter!darling, and they are separate from the reader- unless you decide they aren’t 😍😍)

gn!reader (if I accidentally make them seem too feminine, I’m sorry 😞)

So Much More.

Pt. 1

All my life, I held onto this thin piece of thread called hope. It started off as a rope, almost strangled myself with it, but as time went on and as it started dwindling down, it started snapping.

So, now, the only thing that kept this “rope” connected was a thin piece of thread, too bad, it broke. Due to people who were honestly victims.

Bruce Wayne.

Everyone knows him, who cares if you love him, who cares if you hate him, I mean eat the rich, and who cares if you don’t care about him. To me, he’s a good-for-nothing sperm donor who was also my landlord.

My dear mother, (M/N) (L/N). What a diva she was. She gave me everything and so much more. She embraced me in such comfort that I could feel myself slipping when it disappeared from right under me.

Gotham City is one of the many crime-raided cities there is in the world, anything could go wrong.

Luckily for momma, she died through a natural death, unluckily for me, she was my everything. I mean really, a child no older than 4 frantically searching for something, anything. Desperation creeping in, dialing an emergency call, with terrible service and small fat fingers that didn’t even know how to operate such a stupid telephone that only worked if you used it at an angle.

May my dearest momma lay in a field of flowers, sunlight kissing her skin, that was the fantasy she told me she’d love to take me to. Something Gotham City could only be reached if there was no such thing as heroes, villains, or vigilantes.

If it wasn’t for my appearance I’d would had gone to an orphanage, th officer or whatever he was, Gorgan? Gordon? Doesn’t matter, he called him someone.

a man who seemed so formal and elegant showed up, he would be my father figure, for the time I would spend in the manor. Since, it just so happens I had a 100 percent match with a certain millionaire, billionaire. The man that showed up was none other than my light in the dim, depressing place.

Alfred, the butler for the Bruce Wayne.

Ecstatic, I was, that’s when the rope appeared, my thoughts ran rapid.

Do I have siblings? How many? How’s my dad?

Questions after question, answered with… I hope you’re hungry for…

nothing 😐-

Alfred had answered all my questions, of course I met them all… eventually,

Richard, other wise known as “Dick”

He tried to give the impression to the family as a caring big brother. Well, not to me obviously. When he first met me, his first words were “Who’s the kid?”

“Who’s the kid?” Dick asked

“This is your new sibling, [name] Wayne”

He was there, for y’know that one second, moving on Tim.

Tim

I’ve never held a conversation with him, he breezed past me.

Jason.

BFFs, before he died, then came back to life, then shut me out.

Barbara, Cassandra, and Stephanie

Was my idol, but they stuck their head up so high that they didn’t notice me. Making her nothing more than a second thought in my head.

Duke

Sweet kid, from what I've seen in the shadows.

Damian

He really, broke me in, hell if anyone’s impacted me, it’s him.

degrading me like I was a bug infestation.

Then he stopped, saying “I don’t have time to waste on you.”

Are you kidding me?

I did everything and more for the attention of my family.

Sports? You name it. I probably did it.

Instruments? Do you even know how many medals I've won?

Singing and dance are challenging but that doesn't mean I'm not perfect to the T.

But nothing worked, it's funny you'd think, with how pathetic I am, especially with all these attempts that idiotic thin thread would've already snapped.

No.

Do you know what made it snap? [M/D] and [D/D]. (The second D- stands for darling)

The pair were everyone's obsession.

[M/D], Bruce Wayne's one true love, if this hasn't been obvious my mother was a fling/rebound of Mr. Wayne. [M/D], beautiful, kind, and the object in the family's eyes. It's quite sad if anything, she's like a caged bird.

[D/D], younger than Damian.

Oh, I haven't given you the age scale from oldest to youngest.

Dick and Barbara are the same age, being the oldest

Jason

Tim, Stephanie, and Cassandra

Me

Duke

Damian

[D/D]

Out of these many children. Three are blood-related with Bruce Wayne, Me, Damian, and [D/D].

I'm getting off track.

[D/D], adored, so small you'd want to keep her in your pocket.

One thing was clear about these two. They were everything to the Wayne family.

That's when the string broke.

They came probably by force and hated the very thing I wanted, attention, and love.

I wish I could say I hate them, as they were parallel to me and my mother.

My mother, who was the other woman.

My mother, who never held a grudge.

My mother, who died in a cold, dark room.

My mother, who could never see what type of person I am today.

But I couldn't hate them. I can't. They were the only other ones who gave me that family bond that wanted for so long.

It didn't help that they seemed to deem me to be the favorite. [M/D] loved to be my 'mother' and in her eyes, I was her favorite child, of course behind [D/D] since I was normal compared to them.

[D/D] If I'm near her, maybe grabbing a snack while the family is having 'family game night' she'd somehow spot me, giving that puppy-eyed look, pulling me to join them.

I would, if it's not for the way I would feel these eyes boring on me.

'Why do you have to be here, why are you ruining the moment, who are you?'

I'd pull my hand away, shaking my head, patting her hair, before making it back to the dim, dark hallway, so empty, that you could hear each echo of the step.

As I sit here complaining, at least today's, the day. I'm officially 18.

That's right. 18 years of age and everything I just wrote down has been a recap of my life.

This is my 14th journal. For each year that I've been in the manor, I had a journal, that captured each year of my life, from my emo phase to my popular phase, and now here, the year I graduate, the year that I officially move out.

My first journal was a composition journal, Alfred had no idea what I would like, everyone else was busy according to him, he gave me this journal and told me to write everything I felt, and nobody would ever see it. It's stained definitely. My first-ever entry was: "I wish I got a pet to keep me company, at least that would be better than this stupid silence."

Okay, so maybe there were a lot of spelling mistakes. I don't need to write it down. Even trying to decipher that whole sentence was hard. Not the point I would lose interest every few months before coming back to it. Then it became a hobby. It's very important to me.

I graduated yesterday, too bad nobody was there. Alfred was too busy to come to celebrate it, since graduations are long and take a while, his job came first before anything. Today is my birthday, it's a joke if anything. The day before my graduation is my birthday. I bought this journal yesterday as a little celebration gift and to me in general to celebrate my birthday.

That should be all for my entry.

Yours truly,

[Name] [Last Name]

-

Standing up I glance at my bookshelf filled with different genres of books, split into non-fiction and fiction. Journals filled with information from books, facts that mattered, and scenes that hit me deeply.

Junk journals, bullet journals, and the sheld that mattered the most to me.

My personal journals. 15 journals including the one that I was holding my hand.

A knock broke my thoughts, I slipped the journal I had in my hand onto the shelf before opening the door.

"Happy birthday, young master. I made a cupcake batch for you. Even an edible candle." He held cupcakes to me arranged so delicately with a candle on the center cupcake.

I'm going to miss him so much when I leave. So much so that I didn't even notice the tears slipping from my eyes.

"Oh dear, young master, I'm so sorry that I missed your graduation yesterday, and of course, the others wanted to be there- they were-"

"No, it's not that Alfred- Thank you so much, for everything." I engulfed him in a hug. Something I hadn't done since I was a child.

He held me and consoled me before leaving as it seemed [D/D] had adopted another feral animal or something like that.

I smiled and nodded at him when he apologized for having to go, shaking my head in understanding.

I looked over everything in my room. I would leave everything behind, including my journals. Even the newly bought one. If I was going to leave. I wanted to at least have something that showed.

I existed.

I would leave without a trace that I had left in the first place. And even leaving all these books here, I'm sure you couldn't even tell this would be a room without the bed, just some library with random entries from this random room.

Like a coward, I'll leave a letter for Alfred. For him, and only him.

With that, I bid the manor goodbye. With whatever presents I had anyway.

Also if this is cringy, just let me be delusional and believe that I ate this shit up.

Kind of new to how to format on Tumblr, and how to make posts pretty.

Anyway I wrote this with Grammarly so if you see any mistakes with the writing, I say "boo"

Hoped you enjoyed, bc I'm brewing up the next part... and also how to make a masterlist and all that jazz.

[profeyandere]

𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐓. ─── ☾ 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

ʟɪɴᴋꜱ ↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ʙᴀɪʟᴇʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ ↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.4ᴋ ↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜰɪʏᴇʀᴏ ᴛɪɢᴇʟᴀᴀʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: "ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ" ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇ��ꜱ, ꜰɪʏᴇʀᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴄʀᴏᴡ, ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ, ʟᴏᴛꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ.

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D

The Scarecrow felt too lost since your arrival in the group. You were like a light of hope for Dorothy, like an older sister she would follow to the end of the world with your loving and sweet attitude that helped her understand that new world a little better; you were the heart the Tin Man needed to understand the feelings of others, perhaps in a somewhat questionable way because you gave him little taps where the feeling was supposed to reside; you were the bravery the Lion needed to face the Wicked Witch every time it was necessary, also showing with her the kindness you always offered Dorothy; and you were the brain he needed to act according to the situation. You were what each of them was missing, but above all, you were the reason he felt a great warmth in his chest when he was not really burning; he had already suffered that situation with the witch, so it wasn’t a truly new sensation, but deep down it was because he wasn’t burning at those moments. When his bluish eyes stopped on your friendly face, always smiling even in the most difficult or intense moments, he could feel that deep warmth that seemed to spread all over his body and caused a strange tingling in his stomach; as mentioned, that was strange and new to him, so he preferred not to question these sensations.

"Are you alright?"

Your sweet voice made his thoughts shift, making him turn his neck to see your figure slowly emerging from the shadows, joining him where the yellow brick road lay, which would guide you to the Emerald City, where you hoped to find answers and get the wishes that the wizard was supposed to fulfil. But as soon as he saw you, he again felt that burning in his chest.

"Of course, I’m fine," he affirmed quickly, although his head turned back to the front, to the road, leaving you again with that feeling of distress that reflected your concern and had appeared the very instant you met him for the first time with Dorothy. "Do you need some stuffing for the fire?"

His question caught you by surprise, but you simply shook your head and approached him until you were standing by his side. Somehow, his presence calmed you and made you smile in ways you didn’t expect, because of how familiar he was, how close he seemed, and how warm he appeared.

"No, you know we manage just fine with some twigs and the stones from the road," you said, wanting to calm whatever fear he might have had about seeing his straw stuffing burned in the fire to keep them warm during the nights as they headed toward their destination. "I don’t know how close you are to the others, but I’ve noticed that you avoid my company more than I would’ve thought."

Your statement hit him hard. It was true, he had kept his distance from you in an attempt to make that feeling of warmth fade at some point while you were out of reach, but whenever he saw you or you were closer to him, it came back stronger, to the point of making him think that only putting distance between you would make that feeling fade. But what he didn’t know was that you had felt something similar, not exactly the same, but similar, and you had chosen not to create that distance in an attempt to stay close to something so familiar in him.

And he knew you didn’t deserve such bad treatment from him, so unpleasant or rude, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to understand what was happening to him before acting without reasoning.

"I’m missing a brain, I don’t have one, but sometimes I think I don’t have a heart either because I don’t understand what I feel," he explained, placing his fabric hand over his chest, where his heart was beating strongly and quickly, the only truly human part in his being. "There’s something in my heart that warms with your presence, with your closeness, and I feel like I’m burning. And you know that a scarecrow when it burns… Well, it burns."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the end of his explanation, nodding your head slightly before looking at his chest, his jacket more specifically. That emerald green colour you had seen before, and those golden ornaments that decorated the chest, back, and shoulders, you had seen them too, specifically in the same pattern, on another person, in the wardrobe of a student’s room at Shiz; that garment made you sigh for the memories that came to your mind because of it, and maybe that was why you wished to be so close to the Scarecrow.

"Of course, you’d burn," you agreed with him, lifting your gaze to see his bluish eyes still fixed on his chest as one of your hands, unconsciously, was already on his hand, feeling the rough fabric that could have been a potato sack, so different from what Fiyero’s skin was like. "You remind me a lot of him."

The Scarecrow looked at you with confusion, slightly furrowing his brow, and as soon as he saw your eyes slightly teary, he knew something had been troubling you for a long time; the pain you showed was unusual, and he was deeply worried about those feelings you had. Your smile still remained, but it was trembling, while your hand seemed to want to grab his as if searching for some sort of comfort in his presence, a comfort that perhaps no one else in the group could give you except him because it seemed that in him you were looking for your love.

"Who do I remind you of?" He dared to ask, making you take all the air you could before slowly letting it out as you spoke.

— Fiyero, my Fiyero.

What he hadn’t thought about was that you were suffering from the loss of someone for whom you had felt something similar to what he felt for you, but whose feelings you already knew and could identify, not like him. You weren’t scared of that, but the truth was that you had to focus on your duty, on the only task you had set for yourself, before doing anything stupid or getting your hopes up for something that wasn’t real. That was why you had avoided being close to him in some way when you first met. Fiyero left without saying anything the next morning after Elphaba was declared a public enemy across all of Oz. You saw huge posters, banners, and statues of her figure burning in just the span of a night, and Fiyero wanted to go after her, rescue her, and maybe help her escape to a place where she wouldn’t suffer any harm, and he could return to you. But you had to be stubborn and ask him to take you with him. You asked him to call you before he left so you could accompany him and help him, to protect and care for him while you searched for Elphaba, and that didn’t fit into his plans; Fiyero didn’t want you to be in danger. You woke up completely alone, in a university where all the students were terrified, and your boyfriend had gone off to find the one person who could explain what had happened and possibly fix all the turmoil that had been caused in Oz.

"It must’ve been someone very important to you," murmured the Scarecrow, without pulling away from him, without distancing himself from you either, even if his chest was on fire.

You nodded slowly and watched as he slid his fabric hand so your hand could rest on his chest, where you could feel that very particular heartbeat that made your tears fall. Anyone could have called you exaggerated or could have said you were crazy for recognizing the heartbeat of a person when they were supposed to all beat the same, but only one beat with such strength and speed when you were near.

"Tell me it’s you, please…"

Your voice, pleading and soft, touched a sensitive chord in the Scarecrow, one of many he had. You had hope that he was Fiyero, that he was the person you had been looking for, the one you would have hugged during the nights as you headed to the Emerald City, the one you would have kissed like in fairy tales to see if the spell would break with a true love’s kiss, the one you had been loving for so long. You had assumed it. No one danced and sang like that if it wasn’t him, no one did that leg play in such a funny way if it wasn’t him, no one was as fun as he was, and definitely, no one could match his way of being or resemble him in the slightest if it wasn’t him; you had your hopes based on the Scarecrow’s actions, and you just prayed that it was him.

"What if you’re wrong?"

His question didn’t go unnoticed, and you knew perfectly well that was an option. But you knew it, you felt it in your heart, in his presence, in everything; it was him, only him, just with a different body and with his mind a little altered. Literally.

"Let’s find out, together," you proposed, standing on your tiptoes to gently kiss his lips, or at least where they should’ve been.

Of course, it wasn’t a kiss like the ones you had shared with Fiyero. The Scarecrow was rough and dry, and Fiyero was soft, warm, and tender, but that didn’t stop your hope from flaring up with more strength, and you from feeling like you were burning when he gently brushed your waist with one of his hands in an attempt to hold you, just as he felt himself burning while the reflection of different flashes seemed to pass before his eyes, where you were always there. Your smile, your voice, the way your eyes closed when you laughed, the way you held his hand, how you hugged him in the afternoons while you watched the sunset from one of your rooms; at every moment, there you were, with him. The way you stumbled sometimes when you danced together was endearing, at least the situation always helped him to have you back in his arms, just like now.

The Scarecrow didn’t know where all these images had come from, but he knew they weren’t a coincidence or hallucination because he felt that he had missed you, longed for you, and wanted to hold you in his arms over and over again.

Dorothy, who had been watching your interaction from the moment you had left the group, slowly removed her hands from her eyes so she could see how you pulled back after your kiss, which she had wanted to avoid seeing to give you both the moment of intimacy you seemed to need. For a moment, both of you remained completely still, just looking at each other while small shy smiles appeared on your respective faces, but you were surprised when you saw the Scarecrow’s arms wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground, hugging you against him with all his strength so you wouldn’t escape, to the point that the girl thought he was trying to hide you in his stuffing, but hearing your laughter alongside his filled the young girl with surprise. Toto, who was also observing the scene, wagged his tail quickly as if sharing the happiness you were both exploding with.

At that moment, while she saw you both embrace joyfully under the moonlight, spinning like two lovers that you really were, Dorothy knew it wasn’t the brain the Scarecrow lacked, but his memories. The body wouldn’t be right, but his memories seemed to have been buried among so much straw, memories of you, of his past, of your past together, and now it seemed his wish had been fulfilled without the need for the Wizard of Oz to operate on him.

— It’s me, my love.

[crguang]

beneath it all, you

“Since I’ve met you, I've felt abandoned without your nearness; your nearness is all I ever dream of, the only thing.” in which garofano finds her equal <3

established relationship, fem!reader (r is explicitly referred to as “girl” a few times), smut, oral sex (garo receiving), fingering (r receiving), some praise because i’m me, uhh age gap, r has very sharp teeth and is normal about cannibalism as a metaphor for undying devotion, 7.7k words

A/N: this is not kafka but i swear she’s coming next… this was for me and like 2 mutuals but i figured why not post it here for the ptn community on tumblr. who doesn’t love a milf am i right??? go play this game if you’re not already

Your pulse is steady under the cutting edge of her sewing needle as it glides down the sensuous curve of your neck in a deliberate pattern, along one of the warm veins she knows lies right beneath this layer of perfumed skin. It thumps softly though not without a care; Garofano counts 52 beats per minute, each of them for her. In turn, hers races with no clear destination. Your head slowly tilts to the side, opening yourself to her burning gaze like a naive, doe-eyed fool, but the look in your lidded eyes only speaks of certainty. Three simple words are written for her in their colored depths: all of me. She welcomes those words like a confession. If you were to use your voice, you would say it isn’t one. Your truth is evident and unashamed. All of you, hers. All of you, laid before her in a perfect picture of vulnerability. Submission. Her pillows support your head, her sheets tenderly caress your bare arms and back with even the faintest movement the same way her weapon of choice traces the hollow of your throat, and her knitted shawl, made with her expert hands, still rests around your shoulders from the moment you absentmindedly mentioned feeling chilly earlier. Now, it embraces you so well she might feel a spark of envy in her gut if her insides weren’t overflowing with something else— desire. Desire to possess more than she already does. It’s never enough as if there constantly exists a crumb of you she has yet to taste, and just when she believes she’s had the whole of you, you meet her eyes with a smile that shows the barest hint of the canines past your lips and she’s certain that there is more to be had. 

Garofano can’t resist applying a small amount of pressure between your collarbones, pricking the skin until a drop of crimson bubbles up to the surface. She watches you and you smile at her little test like you did the very first time. She reflects your amusement with a low chuckle. The needle, dipped in blood, continues its journey down the middle of your chest. If it was a scalpel, she could have opened a cavity and fondly brushed the pad of her index over the length of your breastbone, but she would have gotten greedy and slipped her fingers between your ribs for a graze of your heart. Instead, she trails the pointed end across the expanse of your thorax. She both witnesses and feels the fluctuation of your next breath, a touch faster than the last, and she feels a tingling sensation in her limbs at the sight. Your upper body is completely bare to her leisure touch. She drinks in the rising goosebumps her needle leaves behind. Her gaze follows the glint of metal wherever it glides on your beautiful skin and her mind is unable to conjure up a compliment she hasn’t already uttered on your previous nights together. What new words can she possibly use that will encapsulate all of your beauty? She always has the same ones sitting on her lips: art, sacred, inestimable. Perhaps there is more value in repeating them over and over until her tongue grows numb rather than digging around for novelty. She has spoken every thought, has recited every stanza of poetry she’s found with your name spelled between the lines. Her love for you is anything but new after all. It’s familiar, like walking the same road home at the end of the day so often you could take the path with your eyes shut. Yes, she will repeat herself as long as she can use her vocal chords to form words. If not, she will write. Because love means nothing if she can’t express it for you to know. 

Garofano traces the gentle swell of your breast for a suspended moment. Your eyes are tame as you observe her every move before the sewing tool smoothly draws a curvy line back towards your heart. She keeps it there, watching your chest rise and fall under it. Her bedroom smells faintly of gardenia and stands still against the flow of time beyond its intimate space. You like the sweetness she carries with her, you often tell her. She’s not sure if you mean her fragrance or her. Looking at you now, with your heavy eyelids and an abundance of fondness for her on your face, she thinks you must be in love. The thought lights the embers in her belly, and its warmth spreads to the tip of her ears. 

“You know,” she starts quietly, “right now, your life is in my hands.”

She underlines her point by pressing the needle firmly against your skin without drawing blood. She knows exactly where to pierce for a fatal strike to the heart to take you out before you realize she’s done it, and she doesn’t even have to know your body like the back of her hand for it. Her needles are many things; tools she uses to create personally designed dresses, subtle weapons in snuffing the life out of the Garden’s enemies’ eyes and tonight, an intimate means of exploration. She glides the cool tip along the lines of your body, meticulous and attentive, like she wishes to lose herself in them. Her control and precision are unmatched, she doesn’t harm, only caresses. Though at times, she thinks you wish she would do the former, as if it was the strongest way to demonstrate what she feels for you. She prefers soothing strokes and tender embraces, sincere words and fond looks. It's unfamiliar to you, but she will hold your hand through your learning process regardless of how long it takes. 

Your eyes gleam at her words, prompting a knowing smile from her. You wrap both hands around her wrist and press the needle closer to your chest.

“Yes,” you agree easily, almost breathlessly, “right now and always.”

“Always? That’s a very long time.”

“Not long enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with her growing smile. You release her wrist and allow her to draw patterns on your skin again, half circles and made up letters on your breast, sometimes dangerously close to the stiff peak of your nipple. Her free hand brushes up your abdomen. Her palm is warm, it often is, as she maps out the curves and dips of your stomach with a seasoned touch. Garofano knows just how to steal the breath from your lungs and render you a gasping mess for her. She’s so very skilled with her hands; anywhere they pass, a shudder follows closely. Your flesh is malleable between her fingers and she handles you like one of the expensive and delicate fabrics she works on whenever she has a moment’s rest— she’s careful, patient as a saint, and with a single curl of her slick fingers, a prayer of her name tumbles out of your mouth in half broken moans.

She cups your right breast and your lips part further. 

“You would stay with me forever then?” She asks, her voice a sultry caress. She already knows your answer and she never tires of hearing it.

“Mhmm,” you nod with a cheeky smile because you know what it does to her to see you so eager and devoted. “Forever yours.”

Her eyes burn into yours, you hold her lustful stare with as much heat reflected in your irises. Her thumb fleetingly passes over your hard nipple and the sensation is enough for your hunger to grow. Her hand leaves your breast to trail upward, over your collarbone, and she wraps her slender fingers around the base of your throat. She feels your next swallow under her palm. Garofano leans closer, her thighs now straddling your waist, and lifts the needle to your cheek. It unhurriedly draws a slim heart on your skin, but your gaze stays locked on hers and you tilt your chin, subconsciously gravitating towards her. Her guts clench at your expression, naked desire etched on the lines of your face. She lowers her eyes to the curve of your upper lip, so full and begging to be kissed, with the tip of your white canines visible just past it. She looks back at you.

“You look like you want to eat me,” she says teasingly, but there’s a truth to her words. 

“I do.” Your breath is slightly shorter and you swallow again, pupils blown. You inch closer to her, and your longing for her could not be clearer. “I want to tear into you. I want to sink my teeth into your skin and bite off a piece of you so that your taste never fades from my mouth.”

Her heart thunders in her chest like it’s trying to close the distance between it and your own. The needle pauses its languid movements. Your body is soft and pliant under her and the tips of your fingers loosely clutch the fabric of her shirt, holding onto her even as she’s pressed against you. Your eyelids droop further, your rising chest flushed to hers. You look intoxicated with her presence alone and Garofano feels her commendable patience fraying at the edges. You bring a hand to cover hers holding the needle again and stroke her knuckles. The warmth of your skin seeps into her, expanding to the rest of her body.

“Carve your name into my skin so there’s no doubt as to who I belong to.”

The pad of her thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling it down to see more of your teeth. She thinks your jaw must ache, hungry as you are. 

“And scar this perfect skin?” She smiles, eyes dark.

“Yeah. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“Mmm…” 

Her thumb slips past your lips and slowly slides over the upper row of teeth there, back and forth in a soothing pattern. Your mouth stays parted for her and your eyes soften at the gesture. She absentmindedly seeks to soothe the dull ache of your teeth with her touch but all she succeeds to do is fan the fire within you. Your fangs graze her skin yet she doesn’t flinch, used to their cutting shape, or perhaps because she knows you won’t bite despite every instinct screaming at you to do so. Her trust is not unfounded. You kiss her thumb before it leaves your mouth. 

Garofano softly shakes her head and cups your jaw. “No, I think I’ll claim you in another much more enjoyable way.”

She emphasizes her murmured promise with a kiss. Her lips lock with yours like two puzzle pieces made for each other. She’s languid and firm, a hand under your jaw, and she kisses you until the quickened rhythm of your breaths synchronizes. She relishes the sound your mouths make with every brief separation and the feeling of your lips sliding against hers, always greedy for more. One of your hands sneaks under the hem of her shirt to trail up the curve of her spine. A small shiver follows your touch. You chase her when she pulls away, and a short chuckle escapes her before she presses loving kisses across your jaw. Your fingers sink in her voluminous hair in a gentle grip. You squirm beneath her, your skin is already heating up under her soft ministrations because of a few kisses and unlike her, you’re not known for your patience. Garofano quells your growing impatience with a warning graze of her teeth against the edge of your jaw. 

You’d almost forgotten the sewing needle held confidently between her thumb and forefinger. Garofano withdraws from you and immediately earns a petulant sound out of your mouth. Amusement shines in her eyes at the slight pout of your lips as she straightens up above you, sitting on your pelvis, but her fingertips ache to give you everything you want. She will, in due time. First, she wants to savour the feel of your body under her hands and bring you over the edge using only the fingers you love so much. She places the needle on the hollow of your throat and makes her way downward a second time, though this time she ignores the erect buds on your chest and draws a straight line down your abdomen. The pleasant sting of her weapon makes you shiver even as the room’s temperature steadily rises. You regard her with heavy eyes and she follows the movement of her hand down your body while the other feels the curves of your waist, possessively squeezing the flesh now and then. The zone around your navel is sensitive, she leisurely circles it with her needle and her pleased smile widens an inch at your response— the sharp hitch of a breath. 

“Truly a work of art,” Garofano utters appreciatively, more to herself than to you. 

Her nails softly rake your skin, a satisfying contrast to the sting of her needle. It glides over your stomach with no specific destination, etching shapes and broken patterns onto your body. You shift under her. Your hands come to rest on her thighs, fingertips digging lightly into the supple flesh, and Garofano can tell you’re getting a little needy. 

“Mmh? Is there something you need, my darling?”

“You,” your answer is instant and laced with desire, her gaze flickers to your face at your tone. “Always you.”

Your eyes are aflame with lust, and she thinks it’s a wonder you haven’t tried to take things into your own hands yet. Your need to be touched by her, to feel the love confessions she writes on your body with her nimble fingers, constitutes most of your inhibitions right now. Your restraint is endearing, as is the way your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet your drying lips. 

“It’s taking everything in me not to pounce on you,” you continue honestly.

Garofano’s mouth quirks up into the beginnings of a smirk. “Is that so…?” 

She brings a hand to her collar and deftly undos the first few buttons of her shirt, drinking in the darkened color of your eyes on her. She exposes the slope of her neck to your hungry gaze and goes as far as popping open the fourth button so that you get a teasing glimpse of the smooth expanse of her chest. She feels your grip tightening on her thighs, but you still make no move to pounce on her like you said.

“Nothing?” She taunts you one more time, dipping a finger between the opening of her shirt and pulling the fabric down only an inch. 

You look at her with pursed lips. She laughs quietly and leans forward to plant a lingering kiss on your mouth that you quickly reciprocate, your eyes fluttering shut. Her breath fans your lips when she pulls away.

“You’re being such a sweet girl for me tonight,” she mutters against your mouth, “allowing me to indulge in you like this even though you’re itching to touch me. I can almost hear your thoughts, what you’ll do to me later.”

“I’ll put my mouth on you,” you say like a promise, “my tongue, my teeth. They long for you, you know— my teeth. They ache at the mere sight of you.”

“I know, darling girl…” Her nose brushes your cheek with the next kiss she presses on the corner of your lips. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“No. I can never be close enough, immersed enough, it’s driving me crazy.” Your hands move from her thighs to the curve of her ass, and a small gasp escapes her at your firm grip. “You’ll be covered in the shape of my mouth once I’m through with you.”

Your words make her pussy clench. The mental image of your marks on her, bruising her skin until it turns a beautiful shade of purple and leaving behind a dull ache she’ll still feel the next day, swirls around in her head. You’ve previously shared your displeasure at her choice of clothing, how she prefers long sleeves and high collars, and complained about your handiwork going unnoticed because of it. You’ve taken to leaving lipstick marks on the underside of her jaw instead, and she finds your wish to claim her for all to see maddening. You share her passion, her visceral desire to possess and never let go. You cling to her with scorched fingertips and sweet vows on the tip of your tongue, your yearning for closeness mirrors hers in all the ways that matter most. It takes her breath away each time to bear witness to the profound way you love, and she has to admit that she hasn't yet gotten used to standing in the heart of it. 

Garofano guides your lips to hers for another insistent kiss. She readily swallows the quiet sounds out of your mouth and keeps her body flushed against you for a moment longer. Her tongue runs across the seam of your lips, and you part them wider to welcome it. Your shared saliva meld together with no clear idea where yours begins and hers ends, until there is only the feel of you, impossibly close, taking over senses. You often kiss her like you’re running out of air and she’s the one breathing it back into your lungs, as if she held the essence of your being on her lips. She attempts to withdraw from your mouth enough to catch her breath and your fingers flex on her ass as you lean forward to capture her lips again. A pleased hum sounds from her throat at your eager kiss but she still punishes your gluttony with a controlled press of the needle at your stomach. The sudden sting makes you gasp in silent surprise, and Garofano takes the opportunity to straighten up above you once more. 

“Patience,” she reminds you, “you’ll get what you want soon enough. But for now, let me enjoy you.”

You don’t respond, your legs shut in an effort at restraining the heat between them. Her gaze tracks the needle in her hand as it moves across your skin and she revels in the slight tremble of your limbs wherever it passes. The tip is a teasing sensation on your body and she feels a deep satisfaction at the shivers it earns from you, your hands obediently back on her thighs like the good girl you can be. She can hear some of the breaths you exhale every now and then. Your chest thumps with need, your fingertips clutch at her skirt and your dark eyes are fixed on her form sitting above you, but you reign in your urges like she so gently demanded. Luckily for you, feeling you quiver underneath her, exposed and open, has Garofano’s hunger flare up in her guts. 

She moves backwards to settle between your legs and your thighs part almost instinctively to accommodate her. Your thin underwear clings to your skin, already damp from her earlier attention. Garofano shoots you an amused smile.

“I’ve barely touched you.”

“Garo, have you seen yourself? I get wet watching you sew.”

She laughs and you mirror her expression with a small one of your own. “So that’s why you insist on hanging around when I work…”

“Busted,” your smile widens when she playfully pinches your inner thigh. “Can you blame me? You’re the sexiest person in this garden. Don’t tell Mentor. Though she’d probably agree.”

“You’re impossible.”

The air is thick with anticipation and Garofano’s eyes are full of adoration. She runs her splayed fingers flat down your torso from your breast to your pelvic bone, stopping just above the waistband of your panties. Your hips shift under her touch but she pulls her hand back to take hold of your left thigh instead and you bite back an indignant protest. She teases you with the needle in her other hand, trailing the tip up your right inner thigh firm enough to sting pleasantly without causing harm. The subtle weapon draws closer to the edge of your underwear, and the muscles of your thigh flex with the restraint it takes you not to squirm restlessly. You’re aching for her to touch you properly, she can see it in the way your breathing picks up a beat when she kneads your flesh, her nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. Still, you don’t pressure her to quicken her pace. Garofano rewards your good behavior with a kiss to the heated spot in the crook of your thigh. She can smell your arousal, intoxicatingly obvious. You’re ready for her and she’s barely done anything. She almost groans. 

Garofano effortlessly discards the needle with a flick of her wrist. She wants to touch you properly, feel your quivering muscles and raised hairs under her palms as she pleasures you. Two fingers toy with the band of your underwear and slowly reveal the curls underneath. She can hear each of your heavy exhales as she bares the rest of your body to her gaze. Your last article of clothing is discarded next and Garofano sucks in an inaudible breath at the sight of the telltale glisten of your lips exposing your arousal. She runs a single digit over your pussy, from your short, slick hairs down to your slippery slit and through your warm folds. Her finger shines in the low light of the bedroom. it ignores your aching clit and explores your cunt like it has a hundred times before. Your hips chase her touch, silently asking for more, but for some time it’s all she gives you. She spreads your lips to admire the pretty colors of your cunt and spreads your wetness all over your sex until it steadily drips down the crack of your ass cheeks. You sigh softly, a touch irritated despite the pleasure that courses through you at her reverent ministrations, looking down at her expectantly.

Garofano smiles; your lips part wider to speak— to whine for more, no doubt— and she applies pressure on your clit before you can utter a word. Your breathing stutters, she hears it more than anything, and your body desperately jerks further into her. Whatever sentence you were going to say is replaced by a quiet moan that makes her stomach clench in pleasure. Your pretty little sounds, so unashamed, always get the same reaction from her. She rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud and kneads the flesh of your thigh with her other hand, relishing the feel of it between her fingers. You get wetter by the second and she hasn’t even pushed a finger inside of you yet. 

“Hah, Garo…” you breathe out her name; it sounds softer in your mouth. 

She teasingly flicks your clit with a fingertip and tears another lovely noise from you. “Yes? What are you aching for, my darling? Tell me.”

“More… Your fingers.”

“What about my fingers?”

Her smile widens at the short whine you respond with. You can get so needy when she touches you like this, you forget yourself and easily lose your mind to the stimulation she provides you. It’s such a contrast to when you have your fingers around her throat and are stealing the air from her lungs with incessant kisses. She enjoys both versions of you, especially since you look this gorgeous, pleading and at her mercy. 

“Inside me,” you gasp brokenly, “God, just fuck me like you mean it— Mnh!”

“Bossy.”

You’re interrupted by two of her fingers slipping inside your cunt with no resistance on your part. Her digits are immediately enveloped by your dripping heat and curl inward to brush your inner walls, earning a proper moan from you this time. One of your hands gropes your own chest, thumb swiping over your nipple and adding to the assault of sensations your body is under.

Garofano’s thrusts don’t reflect her gentle personality, she adds a third finger that has your back aching off the bed and your eyes fluttering shut. Her hand leaves your thigh to toy with your momentarily neglected clit and you shudder with the first touch of her index on your pulsing nub. She can feel you clenching deliciously around her fingers. The wet sounds of them thrusting in and out of your needy pussy and your soft cries of pleasure fill the room in an erotic harmony. It’s music to her ears, she can’t tear her eyes from the arousing picture you make as you get closer to your peak; your hips eagerly meet each hard thrust, your brows twist in ecstasy and your lips are forever parted to let out those maddening moans you can’t contain. Her stimulation is unrelenting, she watches the way the pad of her finger rapidly teases your clit then further smears your arousal over your sex. Your glistening curls are temptatious, she thinks of all the ways she’ll taste you in the upcoming hour and the sinful thoughts only serve to fuel her desire to make you cream around her digits. She buries them inside you to the knuckle, savouring the warm and velvety feel of your cunt on her skin. 

She neglects her own arousal to focus on yours and your throbbing clit under her thumb, her need growing between her thighs. You pinch your nipple with two fingers and she briefly abandons the bud to bring a wet thumb to your other breast. She leans forward, never slowing her pace inside you, and lifts the plush mound to her mouth. Your eyes rapidly blink open, head tilting to gaze down at her, and Garofano’s pleased smile reflects in the crinkles around her eyes as she meets yours. Your free hand tangles into her long locks. Your grip is tight and desperate, a way to hold on to her closely. Your desire is written on your sweaty skin, it’s in your heated stare and in the flash of your tongue peeking just past your open mouth, and it’s all for her. All of you. Her tongue swirls around your hard nipple and suckles in time with the thrusts inside your cunt. You won’t last long like this, she knows your body’s tells better than you do and the way you clamp around her hand is the most obvious one of them all. 

Your breast slips out of her mouth with a slick sound. You respond with a small noise of protest.

“Don’t stop,” you almost whine, pushing her closer to your chest with the hand in her hair, “don’t stop, baby…”

“So greedy,” Garofano places sweet kisses on your breast, but it isn’t enough. Your fingers tighten in her hair and she curls her fingers in retaliation, knuckles brushing your sensitive walls. Your sharp intake of breath is as intoxicating as your taste. “You were such a good girl, don’t forget your manners now. It’d be a shame to stop right before you come for me.”

She slows her pace to a tantalizing rub to illustrate her point and draws another indignant mewl from you. She chuckles in amusement. 

“Garo, don’t tease…”

“But you make such pretty sounds for me.”

“Mmnh, I sound better when I come.”

“Oh, I know.” Her reply is low and honeyed, dripping with want.

It’s true, you do sound the most beautiful when you’re coming undone around her fingers or on her tongue. Your breath hitches, your eyes lift to the ceiling, and high moans meant only for her tumble from your pretty lips. With the image in mind, Garofano thrusts her fingers as deep as they can go, hard and fast, relishing the widening of your eyes at the sudden shift. Your soaping wet cunt clamps around her digits, sucking her in and refusing to let her go. The upper row of her teeth graze the heated skin of your breast and just barely touches the stiff peak, but it still earns her a breathless reaction from you. Your skin is burning with the desire coiling tight in the depths of your stomach. Garofano’s tongue darts out to swipe over your nipple just as the coil bursts and your orgasm crashes over you in electrifying waves of pleasure. You gush around her fingers and she merely rubs your inner walls to help you drag out your orgasm. Her name is a sinful drawl out of your mouth, her ears tingle with the rousing sound. Your desperate grip on her hair is almost painful, and she hums low in her throat at the pleasant sensation.

Her fingers effortlessly slide out of you once you’ve come down from your high and she lifts them to her line of sight so you can see the telltale glisten of your cum on her skin. Your lashes flutter open as you catch your breath and Garofano plants a parting kiss on your chest before sitting back on her knees. She meets your eyes with a satisfied glint in hers and brings her hand to her mouth, slowly sucking one cum-covered finger at a time. The digit disappears past her lips then slips out with a wet pop! that has your irises cower from the darkness of your pupils. Garofano makes a show of licking her fingers clean while you watch with parted lips, your pussy still pulsing with unabashed need. You lift yourself on your elbows. Your gaze is smoldering, full of promise, and she merely has the time to smile before you lounge yourself at her, wrapping her in your arms and bringing her back onto the bed with you. A surprised laugh escapes her as she willingly steps into your embrace. Her back softly collides with the firm mattress. Your lips are already on her jaw scattering kisses here and there, and the sudden movement has swept some purple locks into her face, tickling her cheek. She’s forced to shut her eyes when your mouth reaches the slope of her nose, her smile stretching wider. Her hands sneak around your bare torso and travel along the path of your spine in loving motions, as if writing those words that make stars burst in your eyes directly onto your skin. You hum contentedly near her brow in response. 

“My turn, now,” you mutter into her temple, a finger already tracing the hollow of her throat. 

You feel her next swallow under the pad of your fingertip. You pull away from her face to gaze down at her, and her eyes open to hold your stare, warm anticipation sending shivers through her limbs. Your fingertip is replaced by your palm, your fingers wrap around her throat and lightly squeeze the sides of it once. Garofano’s breath hitches, not due to the hand around her neck but rather to the heady veil over your half-lidded eyes as the tip of your tongue trails over your upper teeth. She recognizes that hunger, and her pussy throbs at the sight. 

“The world may not see my marks on you with all of these shirts you like to wear…” your free hand runs a straight line from her collar down to her abdomen, forcibly popping buttons on the way and effectively ruining the garment until more of her skin is revealed for your viewing pleasure. Your lips part wider, molars aching at the expanse of creamy skin before you. “But you’ll definitely feel them.” You lift your gaze to hers. “You’ll ache, like I do for you.”

“Is that a promise?” She asks cheekily.

You smile sharply. “Just a heads up.”

You lower yourself over her to capture her lips in a wet kiss. Your thigh slots between hers, bending in a way that applies delicious pressure to her covered cunt. You swallow the throaty moan that spills from her mouth and caress her tongue with your own. Garofano easily meets your intensity halfway. Your connected mouths move in a sensual dance that steals the air right from her lungs. Her hips shift under you, shamelessly seeking the dizzying friction of your thigh against her cunt. For one moment, you lose your mind to the intoxicating feeling of her kiss and melt into her body a little more. She tastes like sweet tea and the cum she sucked off her fingers just now, a strange yet addictive mix to taste off her lips. You normally could waste hours kissing her like this with no complaint, but your current impatience has other plans. Your hand trails up to her chest and sneaks under the pad of her bra, cupping a handful of her breast. It squeezes and kneads and caresses, manipulating the smooth flesh like clay.  Through your locked lips, Garofano’s sharp exhales become yours along with each quiet noise you pull out of her. Your thumb circles her stiff nipple and you feel the familiar shape of her nails on the skin of your back, digging ever so slightly. 

You can’t resist a minute longer, Garofano can practically see your restraint snap in two and she tilts her head to the side preemptively once you withdraw from her mouth. Your teeth on her skin always bring forth the same buzzing sensation in her lower abdomen; you litter marks along her neck, biting and licking everywhere your mouth reaches. The light sting paired with the wet warmth of your tongue as you suck the skin, painting splotches of purple on her body that rival her hair color, arouses her more than anything. The ache between her thighs is almost unbearable. Her clothes make it impossible to get the friction she needs to relieve herself, her hips uselessly grind into your thigh and she lets out a bothered sigh.

“Darling, ah,” she calls out breathlessly; your teeth sink into her collarbone before your tongue wets the spot there, covering her in your saliva, “a little help?”

Her hands leave your back to rake up the fabric of her long skirt up to her hips but are blocked by your thigh between hers. 

“M’not done,” you mumble, kissing the newly made bite marks across her collarbones. 

You absentmindedly pinch her nipple and tweak the erect nub between two fingers. Garofano swallows thickly. Despite her urgent need, she can’t find it in herself to reprimand your one-track mind. It’s cute how focused you are on your task while playing with her breast, relieving the ache of your jaw by nibbling on her like a chew toy. Your lips travel down to her chest and you take a few seconds to take off her ruined shirt and expose the dark bra underneath. The straps are sliding down her shoulders the next instant and the clasp is undone by an expert hand. Once she lies bare beneath you, you resume your ministrations on her chest. The flesh of her breast is soft and pliable, you spend the longest time stimulating her chest with lovebites and quick suckles, your eyes falling shut. Your tongue swirls around her nipple and your hand kneads her neglected breast. Garofano gazes down at your blissful expression as you suck her glistening nipple into your mouth once more, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy. She lifts a hand to the back of your head, a low moan reverberating through her chest. Her skin shines everywhere your tongue has touched and covers her in a soft glow under the bedroom lights. It’s littered with reddish indentations and purple bruises, courtesy of your desire to consume her, but you never go far enough for them to feel unpleasant. You kiss where you want to chew, lick where your molars throb with the instinct to tear and mutter reverent words when you best express yourself through the bite marks your teeth leave behind. Your restraint is commendable, but more than that, it is proof of a long-lasting devotion with her at the very center. 

Your mouth finally abandons her chest and travels to the soft curves of her stomach. With the movement, your thigh no longer stands in the way of Garofano bundling her skirt at the waist. She holds the fabric in place with one hand and spreads her legs enticingly, revelling in your immediate reaction to the sight of her drenched panties. Your fingers dig into her inner thigh, pushing it further apart, and you feel her stretch marks with a caressing hand. 

You tug the waistband of her underwear and glance at the wetness that connects the flimsy material to the slick hairs of her pussy, then lift your eyes to hers. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“I am. Why don’t you do something about it?”

“Mmm…” 

You leisurely drag your index up and down her covered slit, enjoying the sight of her lips emphasized by the pretty fabric. You hear a trembling breath and tilt your head to the right, pondering. 

“What are you waiting for?” Garofano shifts on the bed, brushing some locks out of her face and smiling down at you fondly. “Need some encouragement?”

“I’m just wondering how I want to fuck you. But… a bit of encouragement never hurts.”

“In that case… Be good and make me feel nice, won’t you, my darling?”

You bite your bottom lip in a futile effort to contain your growing smile. A swift movement has her underwear sliding down to her ankles and another  has a thigh resting over your shoulder. You turn your head to mark the warm skin at your disposal, taking your time to pepper bruises all over her inner thighs so that she won’t be able to close her legs without thinking of you. The colors are gorgeous on her, her body is a canvas you paint with your teeth and tongue, adding a few additional shades to the pink flush of her skin. She’s ready for you— has been ready a while ago— but you decide to tease her some more for what she pulled earlier, taunting you like that. Your lips follow a predetermined path towards her slick, aching cunt. Garofano tuts impatiently when you take too long, a quiet sound that amuses you.

“Patience,” you repeat her words from before and lick up a thin string of arousal smeared on her thigh, “I’m enjoying you.”

Her hand on your cheek brings your gaze back to hers and, despite yourself, you lean into the touch. Garofano strokes your face in a way that always has you melting, her thumb gently swiping over your cheek in a soothing pattern. It moves to your mouth and pulls your bottom lip downward. Almost instinctively, you suck the digit into your mouth. The low hum of satisfaction that you earn is enough to make you forget about your previous intentions to edge her. For a suspended moment, you simply look at her.

“You won’t keep me waiting, right?” The sultry and expectant tone of her voice coupled with the evident heat in her eyes make your insides clench. “I need you…” 

Her free hand lowers to her pussy, and she spreads her lips with two manicured fingers, giving you an unobstructed view of her dripping folds. Her thumb slips out of your mouth and wets your lips.

“I need your mouth, my darling,” she continues, a breathiness in her words, “that talented tongue on me. Will you be a good girl for me?”

You nod wordlessly, mind hazy. The lines of her face are more pronounced when she smiles, and you barely tear your eyes away from them as you taste her, tongue slithering up her slit to collect her arousal. You watch her with heavy eyelids while you lap at her like a thirsty kitten. You flick her erect clit with the tip of your tongue a couple of times, and Garofano moans in pleasure, still keeping her pussy lips open for your hungry mouth. The back of her head hits the pillows, her hips chase the sensations you bring her, and her chest falls heavily along every breathy sound that flies out of her mouth. She’s stunning, a sculpture that’s been given the breath of life. Her long locks of hair are like tendrils framing her face, her brows twitch with each pass of your tongue over her cunt, and lower, her nipples sit on her rising chest like precious gemstones. Your mouth waters. You long to suckle on them a bit longer, but that’ll be for later. You wrap your lips around her clit instead and suck, hard and fast. Face pressed to her drenched cunt, your chin and nose are rapidly coated in her essence. She fills your senses; her taste on your tongue, her scent in your nose, the flesh of her thigh beneath your fingers, those raspy, honeyed moans in your ears… She’s everywhere at once. Your world is reduced to her immense presence all around you. She’s not looking at you, her eyes are shut in pleasure. Her hand has turned into a claw on your cheek, her nails carving crescent moons into your skin, and her heel is pressed to your back to keep you against her. She clings to you as she grinds her pussy on your tongue, and you can’t help pushing a finger past her pulsing entrance. It slides in easily, she’s more than wet enough for it. 

“Hah, mmmn,” Garofano’s beautiful sounds above you encourage you to thrust into her at a steady pace. “Yes, just like that…”

You briefly withdraw from her cunt to marvel at how effortlessly your finger disappears inside her wet heat. The squelching noise it makes with each thrust is sinful yet it melds perfectly with her deep lustful moans. Praises fall from her lips like she’s uttered them a thousand times, and perhaps she has, your head spins with need and you forget to count. You slip a second finger into her and don’t let up on her engorged clit, suckling the nub until it twitches on your tongue. Garofano keeps her thighs spread prettily for you, though the muscles flex and relax in succession, a sign of her impending orgasm. Your tongue and fingers work in tandem to bring her over the edge, unrelenting and determined. You recall just how attractive she is when she comes, how her back makes this perfect arc over the bed and her pussy clamps around you, and you curl your fingers inside her cunt to hit the spongy spot that has her eyes rolling back in their socket. She’s so aroused, so wet, it doesn’t take much longer for her to get close to her peak. The pleasure steadily mounts within her, snaking around her guts and squeezing, and she lets you know through drawled out words of encouragement.

“You’re doing so good, darling— I’m so close, don’t stop.”

The assault of sensations is sending shudders through her body. She wantonly bucks into your mouth, chasing her high with no care in the world. You enjoy her the most like this, when she simply takes what she wants without question. She is greedy and you give freely with the burning desire to satiate her. Your fingers pump inside her dripping cunt, your muffled sounds of pleasure vibrate against her folds, and it’s not long before Garofano comes down your throat. Your soaked digits slip out of her and you latch onto her gushing entrance to swallow every drop of cum that that leaks out of her pussy with her powerful orgasm. Her strong thighs press against your ears and you let them, too focused on her tangy taste to do anything more than drink what she gives you. You lap at her a moment longer as she regains her bearings. Her hand lifts to the back of your head and strokes your hair while you clean her up. You look up to see Garofano already gazing at you, warmth etched in her eyes. She catches her breath and returns the easy smile you send her way with a soft chuckle. 

“Come here, sweet girl,” she beckons you closer and you obey instantly, pressing one last kiss over her dark, slick curls before climbing on top of her to reach her face. 

Garofano tenderly cups your cheek. The tip of her nose brushes along the side of yours, then she kisses your cum covered lips and sighs contentedly into your mouth. Her skin is as warm as the embers simmering in your belly. She kisses you sweetly, slowly so as to relish the feel of you against her, and you want more. You want so much more of her— you hunger for more of her taste on your tongue, of her curves under your fingertips, of her mouth on your body. She is there, lying beneath you, open and giving, and it still isn’t enough. Your weight on her is a welcomed one, she sneaks an arm around your waist to trap you on top of her body while she gets her fill of your kiss swollen lips. 

“Mmh, Garo,” you reluctantly pull away to speak, but she chases your mouth and presses some more kisses on it as you talk,” hope you’re not… tired…”

“Oh?” She tilts your chin upwards with two fingers and gives you a dark look. “And why’s that?”

“I’m in a playful mood.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm. I wanna play. And I have just the toy for it.”

Garofano laughs quietly at your raised eyebrows. Her forefinger absentmindedly rubs the cartilage of your earlobe. 

“Well, now I’m curious.”

Your excitement is adorable. A glint appears in your eyes at the thought you planted in her head, and your canines peek just so through your wide smile. Garofano simply observes your features in the low lighting as you ramble about your newest discovery.

“Okay, so, since I can’t actually get you pregnant, I got the next best thing…”

She’ll definitely entertain that thought later. For now, she only holds you close and traces the shape of your ear to commit the feature to muscle memory. In the sanctity of her bedroom and past these colored walls, you belong to each other. She smiles to herself. So precious, so beautiful, and you’re hers. Perhaps some hardships are worth suffering through if they lead to you.

[fear-is-truth]

the evans … as ethel cain lyrics

† tate langdon

pretty boy natural blood-stained blond / with the holes in his sneakers / and his eyes all over me — dust bowl

shooting up our old school when we get bored of shooting up / fuck the cops, and fuck god, and fuck this town for ruining us / they’ll put holes in all we own and in our heads, pumped full of lead / you always told me i could only leave you once we're both dead — head in the wall

keeping guns in his locker, and he denies it / like it’s actually important, but he lied ‘cause i sure did watch him / showing up wearing black, and he knows that — crush

† kit walker

he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds — crush

and jesus, if you’re there / why do i feel alone in this room with you? — american teenager

we spent september on the backroads / shotgunnin’ warm bud lights down / a sinner’s rabbit hole / by the fire, taking off my dirty blouse — powerline valley

† kyle spencer

i was too young to notice / that some types of love could be bad — hard times

➥ no need to elaborate but this breaks my heart

† jimmy darling

25 and you're still crying in your sleep / scared the world is out to get you / and you’ve tried every bottle but you’re in too deep — bruises

feel the heat on me / you’re the most damn beautiful thing that i’ve ever seen / i’ve never wanted to go to california / i’d rather stay here with you and forget that i need sleep /‘cause in this florida heat, i get a little crazy — florida heat

and he said, “it’s been a long damn time since i left florida / no one left to leave and no one left to love / but now that i met you, i finally know just where i’m headin’”/ and we found heaven in time — thoroughfare

he’s never looked more beautiful / on his harley in the parking lot / breaking in to the atms / sleeping naked when it gets too hot / i watched him show his love through shades of black and blue / starting fights at the bar across the street like you do — western nights

† james patrick march

i woke up on that sunday to news that they got you / we both knew it would end on the day that they caught you / you shot yourself in the head as they battered your door through — vacancy

i hate to let you go, but if I don't then we both know / i’ll bury us both, fed to the night (as ghosts) — michelle pfeiffer

there comes a point in every man's life / where he gets the need to destroy / some sickness in his guts — selby wall

but i wonder if you want her / in the way, way, way i wish you would need me / we were right there, you were right there / if you want me, i’ll be right here / like concrete — xxxxxxxxxx

➥ james simping over elizabeth and you’re just… there.

† kai anderson

do i look pretty when i ask you to hit me? / hands like barbed wire / wrapping ‘round my throat, making me cry — sunday morning

americanized, jesus christ born to lie / so you lie and you lie and you lie and / you need easy, you want weak / when you were hungry, i was soft and pink / i bleed easy, i go weak — earnhardt

i know your father hurt you / you say that’s why god gave you me / you say i make it a little better / you say i make you happy / you say it with your fingers clenched / wrapped tight around my neck / ’cause that's what love means to you / and i asked for it i guess — child of cain

you never tell me that i’m pretty / you just say you like my tits / and every time i cry you say “don’t be a little bitch” / but i’m still stupid and in love / and i’d still let you fuck me ‘til i’m cumming blood — selby wall

you walk a fine line between god and animal / you’re just a feral dog i worship in bedroom ceremonials — dog days

➥ kai is so toxic that a lot of her songs remind me of him

† austin sommers

black leather and dark glasses / pourin’ another while i shake my ass / he’s cold-blooded so it takes more time to bleed / obsession with the money, addicted to the drugs / says he’s in love with my body, that’s why he’s fucking it up — gibson girl

i tried to hold them off you / but their hunger beat me out / they’ll come in through the windows / they’ll take my love down / and i will always love you / but my love is not enough enough to save you — chapel hill

➥ that final scene when he got killed ;-;

[charlesslut16]

-It is called lovebombing-

summary : mick uses lovebombing to get you back....

PAIRINGS : mick schumacher x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : LOVEEEE YOUUUU

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

It had been months since you last saw Mick Schumacher. Your ex. Life had somehow pulled you both in different directions—his racing career, your career, everything that came with it.

But the connection, the spark, the bond you had shared never truly faded. It just got buried underneath the chaos, the distance, and the quiet ache of missing him.

And then, one cold December morning, your phone buzzed.

You were scrolling through emails, sipping your coffee when you noticed the notification. It was a message from Mick. Your heart skipped a beat.

Hey, I know it’s been a while, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Let’s catch up soon?

Simple, yet the words hit you like a wave of nostalgia, a wave of something stronger than just a friendly hello. There was a warmth in those words, something that made you pause, something that made your heart flutter even after all this time.

You hadn’t expected to hear from him, not like this. After all, it had been months, no messages, no calls. Just a simple, “let’s catch up,” felt like an invitation to revisit something you weren’t sure you were ready to feel again.

But you couldn’t resist. Not when it was him.

You quickly typed back.

I’d love that. When?

A minute later, the phone buzzed again.

How about this Saturday? I’ve missed you.

Your heart melted as soon as you read it. That’s when the love bombing started.

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

The day arrived faster than you expected, and when you stepped out of the car in front of the cozy café you’d agreed on, there he was. Mick stood near the door, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket, his signature grin lighting up his face as he spotted you.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his voice carrying that warmth you missed so much.

You smiled back, a little unsure of what to say, but the moment you met his eyes, it all felt natural again.

"Hey, Mick. It’s good to see you," you replied, and before you could think, your arms were around him, pulling him into a hug. It felt like no time had passed at all.

Mick hugged you back just as tightly, his chest rising and falling against yours. You stayed like that for a moment, letting the world around you fade. It was a simple gesture, but one that felt like a promise of something more.

When you pulled away, Mick’s hands found their way to your shoulders, his eyes searching your face with a soft, almost adoring expression.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice low, sincere.

You laughed, feeling a mix of warmth and nerves rush through you. "You always know what to say."

Mick’s grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with something more than just fondness. "I mean it. It’s been too long."

The café was warm, cozy, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries filling the air. You both sat down at a corner table, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of cups surrounding you as you settled into the familiarity of each other’s presence.

"I’ve been thinking about you a lot," Mick confessed, his voice gentle but firm. "I know we didn’t end things the best way. I regret how things turned out, and I… I just want to make it right, if you’ll let me."

You felt your heart flutter again, but this time with a mixture of surprise and hesitation. You weren’t sure what he meant by "make it right," but the sincerity in his voice, the honesty in his eyes, made you feel like he was serious.

"I—Mick, it’s okay. We both had things to figure out, right?" You shrugged, trying to brush it off, but you could feel the lump in your throat. "I’ve missed you too."

His expression softened, and he reached across the table to gently touch your hand. "I’ve missed you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I’m sorry. I know I hurt you."

Before you could respond, the waiter arrived with your drinks, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the air between you felt charged, full of unspoken words and a growing tension that both of you were skirting around.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of shared stories, jokes, and that familiar connection that you both seemed to fall back into so easily. But deep down, you could feel it. Mick was trying—no, he was actively working on showing you that he cared, that he hadn’t forgotten about you, and that he wanted to make things right.

As the café began to close, Mick stood up and pulled you into another hug. "I really am glad we met today," he said, his voice soft against your ear.

"I’m glad too," you replied, your heart full in a way that felt both safe and exciting.

Before you parted ways, Mick gave you his number again, just in case you didn’t have it saved. "Don’t be a stranger, alright?" he said, his smile warm, but there was something else in his eyes—something that made you feel like this wasn’t the last time you’d see each other.

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

And then, Mick’s love bombing began in earnest.

It wasn’t just one text or one call. It was daily messages, sweet, thoughtful notes that came at random moments. They made you smile, each one a reminder of the person Mick was—the attentive, thoughtful, caring side of him that made your heart ache in the best way possible.

Good morning, beautiful. Hope you have a lovely day!

I was thinking about you today and just wanted to remind you how much I care about you. Always here for you.

I saw something today that made me think of you. Can’t wait to show you when we meet again.

There were also little surprises—like the small bouquet of flowers that arrived at your door, the handwritten note that came with it, or the way Mick would randomly send you photos of something that reminded him of you. Whether it was a funny picture of a dog or a snapshot of a sunset, it was always accompanied by a short message, something that showed he was thinking of you.

Each message felt like a little piece of warmth, a piece of him being sent directly to you, across the miles. And you couldn’t help but smile, each time a little more, each time a little more certain that maybe, just maybe, there was something here worth revisiting.

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

As Christmas drew closer, Mick’s messages continued, each one more affectionate than the last. There was one that stood out, though, one that made your heart race.

I’ve been thinking about Christmas. Would you want to spend it together?

The simplicity of it, the sincerity behind the question, caught you off guard. Mick wasn’t asking for anything big or extravagant. He just wanted to be with you. And that’s when you realized how much you’d missed him, how much you’d always cared for him.

Yes. I’d love that. You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling a little as you pressed send.

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

Christmas Eve arrived, and the night was colder than you’d expected. The streets were lined with twinkling lights, the shops had their windows decorated with festive cheer, and the air smelled of pine and cinnamon. The world seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for the holiday magic to fully settle in.

You stepped out of your car and immediately spotted Mick. He was waiting for you near the entrance of a small restaurant, his hands in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold night air. When he saw you, his face lit up, that warm, genuine smile spreading across his face.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice low as he walked toward you. "You look amazing."

You laughed, feeling the warmth of his words spread through you. "Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself."

Mick chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, I cleaned up well for you."

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the comfort of being around him once again. As you walked inside, the warmth of the restaurant wrapped around you, and you both shared a quiet dinner, just the two of you. The conversation was easy, natural, but there was an underlying current between you, something more, something that felt like a promise.

As you finished your meal, Mick took your hand in his, his thumb brushing across your knuckles gently.

"I’m really glad we’re here together," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I’ve missed you so much. And I’m sorry for everything before."

You squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It’s okay, Mick. I’ve missed you too. And I’m just happy we’re here now."

As the night came to a close, Mick drove you home. When he stopped in front of your place, he turned to you, his eyes soft.

"I know it’s late, but can I walk you to the door?" he asked, his voice sincere.

You nodded, feeling your heart beat a little faster. You didn’t want this night to end, but you also knew that everything was finally falling into place.

As he walked you to the door, you turned to him, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his face. "Mick, I’m really glad you reached out to me again."

He smiled, his eyes warm. "I’m glad I did too."

And with that, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a kiss that felt like the beginning of something new. Something real.

Mick pulled back slightly, his hand resting on your cheek. "Merry Christmas," he whispered.

You smiled, your heart full. "Merry Christmas, Mick."

And as you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but feel like this was just the beginning. The love bombing had brought you back together, and this time, you knew you wouldn’t let go.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

So, I had an idea for a fake dating au, as well as 2 people suggesting prompts for Clipboard Buck.

Lo and behold I’ve managed to come up with an idea that combines the two.

I’m not sure if it’ll be a long-ass oneshot or a chaptered fic yet (we’ll see how inspired I am as I write it), but here’s a little sneak peek of part of what I’ve written so far.

Enjoy!

🩶

**********

Buck opened the door to the last person he expected.

“T-Tommy.”

The man smiled. “Hey, Evan. Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” He stepped aside to let him through. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He said waving away Buck’s concerns. “I actually have a, uh, favour to ask.” He scratched the back of his head. Buck hadn’t know him long—a couple weeks at best—but he seemed.. nervous? Maybe not nervous but he definitely had a little less confidence in his demeanour than Buck had seen in him so far.

From the moment Tommy had met them at Harbour station weeks ago, he’d oozed confidence. His body language, the way he spoke, the way he did his job—Buck had watched in awe at the way his hands delicately glided over the controls as he flew the helicopter back after the cruise ship rescue. In the handful of times they’d met since then, Tommy always seemed to come across quite squared away.

“Uh, sure.” Buck walked over to the counter. “You want a coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“So what’s the favour? Nothing illegal is it?” Buck joked.

“I- What if it was?” Tommy enquired with a curious look to his eyes.

“How illegal are we talking?.”

“Wait, so there’s some illegal activity you would be willing to engage in?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“Well, like murder? No. Breaking into a lab to rescue animals—I’d be down.” He answered placing Tommy’s coffee mug in front of him on the island.

“Thanks, and duly noted.” He chuckled. “Nah, it’s nothing like that. You remember last night I mentioned I had family coming to town?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s my aunt Clara who’s coming.” Tommy said.

“Is she not very nice?”

“No, she’s great. Practically raised me after my parents-“ He abruptly stopped himself from finishing the sentence. “She’s a great lady. The problem is that from the moment I came out to her a couple of years ago she has constantly been trying to set me up with men she knows. And, God love the woman, but her taste in men is awful.” Buck couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you wanting me to set you up with someone? ‘Cause, I’m sorry but I don’t think I know any single gay men.”

“Oh, no, that’s not- That wasn’t the favour.”

“Oh?”

“I’m actually not looking to date anybody, which she cannot seem to accept. But, when she wouldn’t let it go on the phone last week, I kinda, sorta lied and told her I already had a boyfriend.” He admitted.

“And now she’s coming to visit..”

“She’s expecting me to introduce her to him.”

“Oh.” Buck responded.

“So-“ He elongated the word. “I was wondering if you would consider.. pretending to be my boyfriend for a day?”

“Oh.” Buck said again. He had zero idea of what the fovour was going to be but he never would have guess that.

“She’s only on town for 1 night and it would just be a couple of hours for dinner.” Tommy added.

“Why me?” Buck asked, truly confused as to why Tommy would pick him of all people. Tommy was effortlessly cool and accomplished—Buck was a dork.

“Honestly, I don’t have anybody else to ask. She met Chimney a couple of times back when I was at the 118 and knows he’s straight, that leaves Bobby, which, absolutely not, or Eddie and no offence to him but he screams straight guy—no way he could pull off queer.”

Buck laughed at the true statement. “But you think I could?”

“God, I hope so.” Tommy said. “Plus, you’re closer to my type anyway so it’s more likely that Clara would believe it.”

Tommy’s face was kind of adorable, really. Buck wasn’t sure if he was deliberately putting on those puppy dog eyes, but they were working, regardless.

“What would I need to do?”

“Just have dinner with us.”

“That’s it?” Buck asked.

“You are expecting more? I’m not sure that would be appropriate at the dinner table, Evan.” Tommy winked and Buck’s cheeks immediately pinked up.

“That’s not what I meant!” He protested to Tommy’s amusement. “I just meant like, would I have to hold your hand, have my arm around you etc?”

“You wouldn’t have to. Not if that would make you feel uncomfortable.” He explained.

“I-I don’t mind. When is the dinner?”

“Friday night.”

“Okay. That gives us 3 days to plan.” Buck said unlocking his phone and opening the notes app.

“I’m sorry.. plan?” Tommy said confused.

“Well, yeah! If we’re going to make this believable we need to make sure we get our stories straight.”

“She’s my aunt not the Spanish Inquisition, Evan.”

“And what happens if-if.. Say I order you a drink and it’s one you hate and she knows that you hate it.. wouldn’t that be weird? Or-or if she asks how we met and we give different answers.”

“I think you’re overthinking this a little.” Tommy said gently.

“I think you’re under thinking this a lot.” Buck countered.

Tommy looked at Buck for a few seconds and sighed resolutely. “I’m not going to win this am I?”

“Nope.” Buck replied with a grin.

Little did Tommy know that he’d just met Clipboard Buck.

**********

(Btw—I will give credit to those who sent the prompts once the fic is done 👍)

[pombeom]

dear diary,

went to my best friends house and ended up with him fucking me so hard his dad yelled at us the next day. (its not my fault kais too big for me to stay quiet ;-;)

not my fault | kai fic (nsfw)

pairings: bsf! kai x reader, dom! kai x sub! reader warnings: slight exhibitionism?? (parents are in the house), blowjob, hard rough sex, name calling (he calls her a bitch once), nicknames, big dick kai, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), creampie, loud moaning, angsty ending a/n: i’m so so sorry to the anon who requested this literal months ago! but better late than never right?? this was meant for my 100 bash but that never actually happened because i only received 2 requests :( but i loved this idea so much i still wanted to write it and only managed to do it now.

Dear Diary, 

I said my final goodbye to my best friend today. We let ourselves get carried away in the heat of the moment and now we’re both paying the consequences. 

Kai, my best friend of 5 years, has been with me through thick and thin. From the day we met as flatmates at university, we’ve spent almost every waking hour together. I’m always at him place or he’s always at mine. On this particular occasion, I went over to Kai’s family home for our weekly movie-dinner night. Being the film fanatics we are, each week was one to look forward to. Usually, we’d be at Kai’s apartment but he’s visiting his family for the week and so instead of skipping movie night, he suggested I meet him at his parents’ place instead. Whilst I had met his parents before, we were never particularly close and so you can imagine how nervous I was to be meeting him there. 

I threw on a pair of pyjama shorts and and a T-shirt before heading over to Kai’s. Considering how I usually ended up sleeping over, I’d stopped bothering packing extra pyjamas and always went wearing my night clothes, to which Kai always accommodated to by also wearing his. 

I shake off any nerves and walk up to the front door of his house. It was much larger than I expected but the building was painted a modest cream with the door being a rich navy blue contrasting the lightness off the walls.  I could tell his parents valued interior decor. I knock on the door, awaiting someone to open the door. That someone ended up being his dad who welcomed me in with a gentle smile which I felt had stern undertones. I shook of that feeling upon seeing Kai peer out from the top of the stairs. 

He instantly gave me him usual hug and dragged me upstairs to his room, out of his dad’s disconcerting sight. His childhood bedroom, in contrast to the rest of his house, was exactly like how I’d imagined it to be. With a mixture of greyish blues, white and pops of orange, the style of the room matched his personality. I’m guessing he hasn’t really changed much since he was a kid, which I find really fascinating. 

I take my time to observe each and every detail of his room, scanning my eyes past his bookshelf filled with music books and manga. His drum set took up a significant sector of the space whilst his double bed is pushed against the wall in the corner.

After spending some time catching up, we get to the task at hand and head down to his living room to pick out a movie. I only had to beg for about 5 minutes before Kai gave in and let me pick “The Notebook” as our film for the week. It was either that or his choice “No one gets out” which I definitely wasn’t feeling up to. 

The next bit, I’m going to try and describe as best as I can but the moment was so fuzzy I might end up missing bits out. 

I’ve been infatuated by Kai for about a year now and my skittish feelings for him only grow with the more time we spend together. The way his presence just fills the room was all consuming. I loved having him around and I especially loved his witty comments during our movie nights. Most importantly, would always be moments when I’d catch him staring at me instead of the TV or our fingers and knees would occasionally brush causing little fizzles of electricity. But tonight something was different about him. He seemed to be a little bit more held back than he usually was. I’d assumed that being in his family home meant he was a little more reserved with his actions towards me. 

The movie progressed and I was intently watching Ally and Noah’s relationship grow. Toxic but desperate. Deep yet somehow shallow. Then came the awaited sex scene. Well not awaited exactly but you know what I mean… 

That scene got us both fidgeting. We tended to avoid any movies with such explicit content but this almost seemed to come out of nowhere and having not watched it before, we did not know what to expect. Kai grew even quieter, his words seeming to get stuck. The awkwardness stiffened the air so in order to resolve it, I decided to speak up. 

“So…how are you liking the movie so far?” I questioned, turning my head to face him completely. 

“Yeah, it’s good so far…Just wasn’t expecting to be watching a sex scene with you…” 

He was almost too honest because I’m pretty sure I turned red immediately. 

“Me neither.” I respond quickly, trying not to show my embarrassment. 

“I guess this sort of thing should be normal between friend though, right?” 

“Yeah I guess. Why would it not be?” 

At this point, we’d both drowned out the sound from the TV and we were almost lost in each other’s gaze. 

“Well if you want it to be normal, we can make it happen.” 

“Huh? What!” He reacted to my exclamation with a raised eyebrow, showing confusion at my extreme surprise. 

“What? Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, I just misunderstood what you meant… It was my fault.” 

“Misunderstand? What did you think K meant?” 

“It doesn’t matter. Leave it.” I try brushing it off but he was very obviously curious and once Kai was curious, there was no stopping him. 

“No, tell me. I want to know.” He kept pushing for an answer as he inched closer to me. 

“I just thought you said something about sex becoming normal between us…but then I realised the context and realised you meant us watching sex scenes in movies,” I whispered not wanting to be heard. But from his smirk, I knew he did. 

“I see. Well, do you want sex to be normal between us?” 

“What? Did I hear you right?”

“You heard me.” His suddenly emerged sense of confidence threw me off a little but Kai has such a dynamic personality, you never really know what to expect with him. 

“Umm…” 

“You’re hesitating? So does that means you’re considering it?”

“No! I was just thinking about how to answer your question.”

“It’s a simple question. Do you want sex to be normal between us? Yes. Or, no?” 

Mentally, I had thoughts racing through my head. I thought back on all the times of our lingering accidental touches or his gaze that falls upon me when he thinks I don’t notice. I wanted him then and I want him now. Definitely in a more than friends way. 

“Is it wrong that I want to say yes…” I barely finished the sentence before he cages me in between his arms and the couch, his breath now hitting my face. 

“So you wanna fuck me?” 

“Kai… I-“ 

His lips came crashing down onto mine as his hand pulls my face closer to his, deepening the kiss. It was filled with lust from the start. Not a pure innocent intention in sight. He devoured me and I let him. His tongue slid in and out as his other hand appears in my waist, squeezing it with his huge hands. 

When he pulls away, his sultry eyes settle on mine. I had never seen this side of him before. It was so new, but I liked it. 

“Let’s go upstairs or my parents will catch us. There’s still so much more I want to do with you.” 

His hand grabbed my wrist as he pulls me up to his room, pushing me against the door, as he closes it behind us. 

He interlocked his lips with mine once again, pressing me against the door whilst lifting my leg around his waist. The mere inches between us closed as I felt his body against me, his lower region in particular. 

I slid my hands up his white shirt, feeling his skin and muscles. Soon enough, I pull his shirt over his head as he follows and does the same with me. 

He pulled me over to his bed, pushing me down at the end of his bed whilst he towered over me ensuring I made eye contact his clothed crotch. I untied his plaid pyjama bottoms, pulling them down with his boxers  in one move, as his hard dick sprung onto his bare stomach. I’m certain I started drooling at the sight. He was long and extremely thick, the veins on his dick leading up to his swollen pink tip. 

“Wanna suck me off?” 

My head nodded automatically, all sense of shyness thrown out the window. I needed to taste him and that was all that mattered. 

I began by licking the slit on his tip, tasting his oozing pre-cum. 

“Fuck, stop reading and suck me off you bitch.” It was a name he only ever called me jokingly when we mess around but hearing him say it now had the slick dripping from in between my legs. 

Holding the base of his cock, I take his length in my mouth. He was too big to fit, hence my hands stroking him up and down to stimulate him more. 

“Mhm yes. That’s a good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

His hands wrapped around my hair, fisting it into a ponytale, using it to guide my mouth faster along his girthy dick. 

“Fuck yes! I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that.” 

I felt his cock twitch in my mouth and I prepare to take his load on my tongue, but instead he pulled out, depriving himself of his release. 

“I wanna feel inside you. Now pull your tiny ass shorts down and spread your legs open.”

I obeyed his words exactly, stripping myself of my shorts and opening my legs for him. My panties were absolutely soaked and the slick had ended up dripping down my leg. Before I could even finish processing this, I heard a sharp rip as a bolt of cold air hits my needy clit. He held up my ripped panties, dangling them in front of me as if it were his prize. 

He soon started moving his dick along my folds, collecting the wetness before slamming into me, hitting my g-spot immediately. I had to physically stop myself from letting out a moan by covering my mouth with my own hand. 

“Look at you. Scared you’re gonna wake up my parents with your slutty little moans?” 

“Kai please. Keep going.”

“Someone’s not as scared as she makes out to be then.” He teased, but he listened. 

Pounding into me as if he were some dog in a rut, each push had my eyes rolling into the back of my head. 

Somewhere down the line, I gave up on my attempts at silencing my moans, screaming as he thrusted sharply into my throbbing core. It’s not my fault he was too big for me.

“Your pussy is so tight. You’re taking me so well.” 

“Kai- fuck! You’re so big!” 

It must have boosted his ego because he began pounding into me as my moan escaped freely, my nails clawing at his back for some sense of relief from the overwhelming pleasure. My back arched moving me closer to his body and gave his better access for hitting even deeper. 

“Kai, I’m gonna cum! Please- keep going.” 

“Cum with me angel. 3, 2, 1, cum.”

I let go of my release, as  my orgasm rippled through my body as I shook vigorously. Our mixed cum leaked out from my pussy onto his sheets, making an even bigger mess. 

“Fuck. Kai. That was the best sex I’ve ever had. I don’t think I can give myself to anyone else but you,” my words came out amidst the huffing and puffing. 

“I’m guessing the sex is gonna become normal between us then. Just like you wanted it to.” 

“Pretty sure you wanted it to. Or else this wouldn’t have happened.” I said pointing to the mess in between my legs. 

Without any notice, he stuck his fingers between my pussy lips, gathering up our cum, bringing it up to my lips and he shoves them into my mouth. The sweet taste had me moaning against his fingers. I wanted him to have a taste too so I use my own fingers to get some cum, presenting it in front of him. He hand held mine, and he brought it closer to his mouth before taking my fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

He then cleaned up and changed the sheets. I felt a little guilty that I wasn’t much help but my legs were so shaky that I could barely suffice to stand properly. Once his bed was clean, we both hopped in, cuddling each other to sleep. 

The screech of his bedroom door awakened the both of us, my fuzzy vision taking time to adjust to the brightness of the room. I could see clearly again but I wish I didn’t. His dad stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed as his face burnt with fury. Fuck. We were screwed. 

“How dare you! I am disgusted by the both of you! Do you really think fucking a girl in the same house as your parents was the wisest move Kai Kamal Huening?! That is fucking disrespectful and utterly disgusting behaviour from both of you! If I ever see you two hanging out again, I may have to take more extreme measures. I will not have my son fucking around with a girl especially when I am in the house! Do you understand?! Now leave!” His yelling echoed throughout the room, only enhancing the effects of his anger. 

His dad turns around, expecting my indecency as I get out of bed, wearing only Kai’s T-shirt. I abandoned my ripped panties and go commando by putting on my shorts and grabbing my own top. I looked back at Kai’s face once last time before grabbing my phone and basically sprinted out the house. I was embarrassed and felt as though I had been tormented by my worst nightmares. But, I knew Kai had it worst. I should have tried harder to stay quiet. I shouldn’t even started the conversation about the sex scene in the first place. And I definitely shouldn’t have encouraged him to make a move on me. I got in my car and raced home so I could go cry in the comfort of my own bed. 

Diary, whatever am I supposed to do now. I’d had the most incredible sex with Kai, but now it seems like all of it was pointless. Why did his dad have to hear us and call us out? Why did he choose to punish us like this? Have I really lost Kai because I chose to let my emotions control me? 

I’m so lost and confused. But at the same time, I keep replaying moments of last night. I can’t get over it. I can’t get over him. It was as if he was made for me and I, him. 

Maybe his dad will choose to forgive us. I’m going to hope. I won’t lose Kai forever. I’m going to find a way to make things right again. 

That’s all for now. I will write again if anything changes (for the better, hopefully).

-Xoxo, Y/n

[yiichan]

confession ; jeon wonwoo

PAIRINGS — yandere!childhoodbestfriend!wonwoo x male!reader WORD COUNT — 1k words. GENRE — yandere, nonidol au.

WARNINGS — yandere/obsessive elements.

REQUEST — Can I request like a yandere wonwoo x male reader who has been best friends since childhood, then wonwoo confesses but gets rejected?

Up to you, author, on what elements of yours will you add!

WRITER'S NOTES — I'm back~ AND I'M GOING BACK TO WORK TMR I DUN WANNA UGHHHHH...

masterlist | navigation | main page | kofi | ao3

He’s going to go crazy.

Wonwoo drummed his fingers on his lap, the rhythm uneven as his gaze flickered to you. The two of you had been inseparable since childhood, sharing countless nights talking about dreams, fears, and everything in between. And yet, here he was—tongue-tied, his chest tight, wondering how to tell you the one thing he’d never dared to say.

You stood by the eomuk stall, chatting animatedly with the ajumma as if you didn't have a care in the world. Your smile was as radiant as ever, the one he knew by heart but never tired of seeing. The orange glow of the market lights reflected in your eyes, making them sparkle.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. You had always been like this—so effortlessly charming, so kind to everyone you met. It was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you, though he was beginning to think he’d loved you long before he even knew what love meant.

But he wasn’t the same Wonwoo you grew up with. Somewhere along the way, his feelings had shifted, deepened into something that made his chest ache every time you were near.

You turned back to him, a skewer of steaming eomuk in hand, your expression as bright as the first day he met you.

“Wonwoo hyung, you’ve got to try this!” you said, holding it out to him.

He hesitated for a split second before taking it, his fingers brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt up his arm, and he clenched his jaw to steady himself.

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice lower than he intended. He bit into the eomuk, chewing slowly, though his focus was entirely on you.

“Good, right?” you asked, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, it’s good.” But the words felt hollow compared to the weight of everything else he wanted to say.

“Wonwoo?”

“Hm?”

You tilted your head, a playful grin tugging at your lips. “You’ve been weirdly quiet all night. Are you okay?”

This was his chance.

The words were right there, lodged in his throat. He could tell you everything—that he loved you, that he had loved you for years, that he wanted to be more than just your best friend. But as he looked at you, so trusting, so carefree, fear tightened its grip around his heart.

“Yeah,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I guess.”

You frowned but didn’t push. Instead, you took a bite of your own skewer, the moment slipping away like water through his fingers.

Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, his fists clenching at his sides.

Coward.

He’d waited years for the right moment, and it always seemed just out of reach. But as he watched you laugh at something the stall owner said, a quiet resolve settled over him.

If he didn’t tell you soon, someone else might.

And the thought of losing you—to anyone—was something he couldn’t bear.

Finally, Wonwoo gathered all his courage. “Hey, um. I like you.”

You froze mid-bite, the skewer hovering inches from your lips. Slowly, you lowered it, blinking at him as though you hadn’t quite processed his words. “What did you just say?”

The question made his chest tighten, but he forced himself to hold your gaze. “I said I like you. More than a friend. I’ve liked you for a long time.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, your expression unreadable. The din of the bustling night market seemed to fade, replaced by the sound of Wonwoo’s own pulse pounding in his ears.

“Hyung,” you began, your voice hesitant, careful. “I… I don’t think I can feel the same way.”

The words hit him like a physical blow, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he managed a soft, understanding smile. “Oh. I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you added quickly, your voice earnest. “I just don’t want to ruin what we have, you know? You’re my best buddy that grew up together with me, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“Of course,” Wonwoo said smoothly, his tone light, reassuring. “I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

But as you looked at him with those apologetic eyes, as if you were sparing him, his mind began to twist.

You don’t get it, do you? How much I’ve done for you, how much I’ve sacrificed just to stay by your side. How could you not see it? How could you be so blind?

“I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us,” you said, offering a nervous smile.

He shook his head, the perfect image of composure. “It won’t. I promise.”

But in his mind, his thoughts were anything but composed.

It’s fine. You’ll come around. You just don’t realize how much you need me yet. I’ve been there for you your entire life—no one knows you like I do. No one loves you like I do.

You returned to your skewer, the moment seemingly passing as you chatted about something else, trying to fill the awkward silence. Wonwoo played along, laughing at your jokes, asking you questions, pretending as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

His eyes lingered on you, tracing every detail of your face, every movement you made. You were too precious, too perfect to belong to anyone else. If you couldn’t see that now, he would make sure you did.

I’ll wait. I’ll be patient. But if anyone tries to take you away from me… His fingers clenched into a fist beneath the table, nails digging into his palm. I won’t let them.

“Wonwoo hyung, are you okay?” you asked, noticing the faraway look in his eyes.

He blinked, his soft smile returning in an instant. “Yeah. Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as a friend.”

Your smile widened, oblivious to the storm brewing behind his calm facade.

Friend? That’s fine for now. But one day, you’ll realize you were always meant to be mine.

As the two of you left the night market, Wonwoo walked beside you, his posture relaxed, his expression serene. But inside, his heart burned with a dark, possessive fire.

You could reject him all you wanted. In the end, you belonged to him—and he would make sure of it.

© yiichan, 2024 origin of divider

[persephoneggsy]

Phryne Ingellvar Banter

writing full fics is still kind of exhausting to me, so I've taken to writing fake banters for my Mourn Watch Rook, Phryne Ingellvar. Most of them are with Emmrich, because he's her romance, but maybe I'll eventually expand on her relationships with the other members of the Veilguard. A lot of this is mostly bits and bobs from Phryne's backstory.

*

[During Emmrich's recruitment quest, as they’re traversing through the Necropolis]

Emmrich: Surely we’ve crossed paths before, Rook? It seems bizarre that we’ve both been Watchers for so long and never interacted. I swear the name Ingellvar sounds familiar…

Phryne: Well, I mostly did grunt work. Escorts for trainees entering the Necropolis for the first time, protecting mourners visiting the graves. That sort of thing. Probably not what you spent most of your time doing.

Emmrich: Ah, I see. Still…

Phryne: Though we have met before.

Emmrich: Oh? I’m sorry, I can’t recall…

Phryne: Don’t worry about it, Professor. It was almost a decade ago, and it was brief.

Emmrich: Well, you remembered. I hope I made a good first impression, at least?

Phryne: I don’t think you’re capable of leaving a bad one, from what I’ve seen so far.

Harding: Um, sorry to interrupt, but can we maybe focus on the horde of despair demons charging at us right now?

Phryne & Emmrich: Spirits!

Harding: Whatever!

*

[When Phryne goes to see how Emmrich is settling in]

Emmrich: When did we meet, Rook? It’s been driving me mad.

Phryne: Oh, alright. It was at a funeral. My son’s. You administered his final rites and prepared his body for burial.

Emmrich: Oh! Of course. I remember now.

Phryne: Really? It was so long ago, and I’m sure you’ve performed dozens of final rites over the years. I wouldn’t be upset if you couldn’t recall…

Emmrich: Not many Nevarrans left to join the Inquisition. It was seen as a primarily “southern” concern, despite the danger it posed to all of Thedas. I remember thinking that young Rothe Ingellvar must have been a fine young man, to give his life for such a cause. 

Phryne: He was. 

Emmrich: I’m sure I said it back then, but my condolences, Rook. 

Phryne: Thank you, Emmrich. 

*

Emmrich: I’ve been wondering something, Rook. If you don’t mind a personal question. 

Phryne: Ask away. 

Emmrich: We’ve been in the Mourn Watch for almost the same number of years. You’re an incredible warrior, a natural born leader, and every other Watcher I’ve asked has nothing but wonderful things to say about you. 

Phryne: Aw. Thanks. But… what’s the question?

Emmrich: By all accounts, you should be extremely high up in the ranks. But by your own admission, you’re just “a grunt.” Why haven’t you been promoted?

Phryne: Ah. Well. They tried, at first. But I joined the Watch after I had my kids, so they were my priority. Promotions meant more responsibility, more responsibility meant more time away from them. And then, after rejecting promotions for years, they finally stopped trying. Happily been a grunt ever since. 

Emmrich: I suppose I can understand that. But wouldn’t a promotion also mean more money with which to support your family?

Phryne: My mother left me with her estate when she passed. We were always comfortable. I just wanted as much time with my kids as possible. 

Emmrich: That’s very admirable. 

Phryne: Really? Mother always said my lack of ambition was my fatal flaw. 

Emmrich: I think love for one’s family outweighs that. 

*

Emmrich: The Battleaxe!

Phryne: Sorry?

Emmrich: Your surname, Ingellvar — it’s been nagging at me, but I finally remember where I’ve heard it before! Your mother was Prudence Ingellvar, the Battleaxe!

Phryne: Oh! (Laughs) I forgot they used to call her that. Yeah, that was my mother. You knew her?

Emmrich: I’m afraid I never had the good fortune, but I knew her reputation. A staunch traditionalist, to be sure, but such exemplary understanding of anatomy and theory! Her essay on both magical and mundane methods of preserving vital organs was quite innovative!

Phryne: Oh, she would’ve adored you. 

*

[After revisiting the Necropolis for the first time and speaking with Myrna and Vorgoth]

Emmrich: Phryne?

Phryne: Yes?

Emmrich: Just making sure I heard correctly. Back at the Necropolis, Myrna called you ‘Phryne’ rather than ‘Rook’. Is that your given name?

Phryne: Oh, it is. Rook is a… recent nickname. Varric started calling me that after we met. Something about chess pieces.

Emmrich: What would you prefer to be called?

Phryne: Rook is probably easier. No one could ever pronounce Phryne right when I was younger. The number of times I was called ‘Frine’ or ‘Fern’...

Emmrich: (laughs) A shame. It’s a lovely name.

Phryne: Well. I like it when you say it.

Emmrich: Very well. Phryne.

*

[During their first date]

Phryne: This is one of the more romantic dates I’ve been on. 

Emmrich: How wonderful! I was afraid I’d lost my touch. Between work and research and teaching Manfred, there hasn’t been time lately for company. 

Phryne: I know what you mean. 

Emmrich: Do you?

Phryne: Well, I spent the last year or so hunting down Solas. Not a lot of time for courting. And even before that, I’d… sort of given up on romance. 

Emmrich: Oh. May I ask why?

Phryne: Dating’s hard with kids. I always had someone willing to look after them if I had plans for the evening, but a lot of the time, people were put off by the fact that I even had children. Or the kids would hate them for whatever reason. Or things would work out for a while before fizzling out. So I stopped focusing on relationships and just focused on… the physical side of things. 

Emmrich: I see…

Phryne: Does that… bother you? My ‘experience’? I know some people find it unladylike. 

Emmrich: My dear, I would never hold your past against you. I’m only marveling at my good fortune, to be the one to show you how a proper courtship works. 

Phryne: Ooh. Bold words, Volkarin. Are you sure you have the skills to back up that confidence?

Emmrich: You’re not the only one with experience, darling. 

*

[After Harding asking about whether Emmrich is a noble]

Harding: So you’re really not nobility? Volkarin just sounds so… fancy. 

Emmrich: It’s a commoner’s name. My father was a butcher and my mother was a cook. If you want to speak to Nevarran nobility, you could always ask Rook. 

Harding: (laughs) Right. 

Emmrich: …

Harding: … Wait, really? Rook is a noble?

Phryne: You don’t need to sound so surprised. 

Harding: It’s just… you don’t really act like…

Phryne: To my mother’s chagrin, I know. But in my defense, I was adopted. 

Emmrich: Oh, truly? I hadn’t known that. 

Phryne: Mother and a few of our undead found me in an abandoned crypt when I was just an infant. She took me in, raised me as her own. 

Emmrich: How sweet! I’d heard one of our own was a cryptling, I had no idea it was you!

Harding: … You were found in a tomb? As a baby?

Emmrich: That isn’t so unusual in Nevarra. Many Watchers see them as an omen!

Phryne: Whether I was a good or bad omen depended on if I took a nap that day. According to my mother. 

Harding: … Nevarrans are so weird. 

[nina-ya]

As the year comes to an end I just like to take a moment and reflect on things.

This blog has been an outlet for my own life via my writing. Every little word I write and put out there for you guys to read has a piece of me in it, and it is really fulfilling to see when anyone leaves a nice comment because it truly does hit when I’ve poured my heart and soul out into some of these pieces.

I’ve gained a larger amount of followers and friends since the start of the year than I ever thought would happen. January me would be shocked to see how many people I’ve come to become friends with because of this blog!! Like! Im about to spend new years with someone I met on this blog that’s really insane to me!!

And I just want to truly thank you all. I want to thank anyone and everyone who has ever shown support to me, anyone who has left me a nice message, anyone who has put up with my antics, anyone who has taken the time to let me be in their lives. Words cannot describe how much I truly love you all.

My New Year’s resolution is to keep writing. To do more than I have before and to make even more friends on this silly little website. Because truly this has been one of the things that has brought the most joy in my life and I would never trade it for the world.

Happy New Years

Love,

Nina 💕💕

[forgottxen]

love letters

how girly reader x frat boy chris met - mentions of  beer/weed, slightly suggestive if you squint- reader referred to as 'Bunni' | proofread by me 😈

more of them here

౨ৎ wc: 970

_

9 years ago

-

There she stood in the crowded hallway as students laughed and pointed at her, her face flushed. They had found out, and the entire school knew about the note. Pouring her heart out, she confessed her love for her childhood best friend on a note. Even at twelve, she felt certain of her feelings. In her head, he would say he liked her back and they would be boyfriend and girlfriend, hold hands in the hallway, and sit together at lunch. Instead, he had humiliated her in front of the entire school, taking the note out of his locker and laughing at her confession with his friends. How could he? She had trusted him so much enough to spill her feelings onto paper for him. Her cheeks heated as she let the hot tears spill down her soft skin, her legs shaking as she gained the courage to run out of the school’s front doors.

-

Present

Bunni avoided parties, especially college parties because they always reeked of alcohol and other drugs she didn’t want to be around. Her friend and dorm mate dragged her to a frat party. She had a crush on someone there and wanted Bunni as backup. Although she should be back in her dorm studying for her final, she said yes, why wouldn’t she? She always had her friend’s back. As they walked towards the frat house, they saw people splayed out on the lawn, some making out while others were in the corner retching. Bunni gagged at the scene. Her friend dragged her further inside the house, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and weed. “He’s right there!” her friend shouted as she dragged Bunni towards the front room where a few guys were sitting on the loveseat, the coffee table splattered with beer cans. Bunni’s eyebrows furrowed as she took in the scene, not noticing her friend was introducing her to the guys on the couch. She couldn’t care less about she only wanted this night to be over with already. Her eyes landed on a specific brunette boy, his messy hair pulled back by a backward cap, his blue eyes piercing through hers. She groaned seeing the cocky smirk on his face, turning her gaze elsewhere, but he seemed familiar. She felt she knew him, but couldn’t place him. This was shocking, as she’d never imagined herself knowing a frat boy. Sure, they went to the same college and stayed on the same campus, or so she thought. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen him around, but knew him from somewhere.

Chris pov

I sat on the couch drinking out of my red solo cup. Me and the guys had thrown another party. Sure, it wasn’t the most convenient time since it was finals week, but who gave a fuck about finals? I could just find some random to get me the answers. It was no biggie. Plus, it was Friday night, the perfect night for a banger party, or so I thought. So far, all the girls I hit on seemed uninterested. Which was weird since they usually fawn over me. I sat on the couch, legs spread as I saw two girls walk towards us. One looked like she rather jump into moving traffic than be here. I wasn’t paying much attention to what they were saying, or who they even were. One of them I had seen a few times but the other I had never seen before. Maybe she was new? Not as if I cared. I was more focused on how her pink skirt hugged her full thighs, nonetheless something about her face seemed familiar, like I’ve seen her somewhere before. I shook off the thought, taking another drink from my cup. She probably just had one of those familiar faces. My eyes lingered on her thighs as I took in the sight of her soft skin, my head tilting slightly as if trying to get a better look at what was underneath the skirt. My gaze trailed back up to her face, taking in her soft features, the color of her eyes, and her plump lips. God, they were perfect. They would probably look better wrapped around me-

Reader pov

Bunni groaned as she watched the guy size her up, his eyes taking in every inch of her body. She could see the slight smirk on his face as he tilted his head. It was making her sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t deny she kinda liked the attention. She watched as his thoughts got interrupted by one of his friends nudging him to the side. She let out a soft giggle as she quickly cleared her throat, trying to hide her reaction. Her friend had long gone with the other guy as they had gone upstairs, leaving Bunni alone once again. What she hated about her precious roommate was her always being too involved with guys to notice leaving her; however, she still loved her and would always be there for her. Seeking refuge from the frat boys, she searched the kitchen for a drink other than something that tasted like battery acid. She bent over as she rummaged through a container filled with drinks, trying to find something other than alcohol. She was never much of a fan of the drink. “Nice ass,” she heard a sultry voice say from behind her. She could feel his gaze on her backside. Spinning around, finally getting a proper look at him, her jaw dropped immediately as she quickly realized who it was, the pieces coming together. He furrows his eyebrows, his eyes scanning her features as a smirk appears across his features. “What do I have somethin’ on my face?” he asks, his eyes trailing down to her lips.

divider; @dollywons

tag list: @itsmaddielouis @55sturn

a/n; part two coming soon... anyways hopefully this is good I'm kinda nervous

[obsessivecelestial]

Ahem ahem,,, I supposed I need to make a lil appreciation end of the year post :3

Imma try to get to as many people as I can, and if I forget you, it’s because I’m fighting off a sickness so I’m a lil out of it!

@stormbreaker-290 I don’t really know where to start, but you’ve genuinely brightened my year! You’re very funny and sweet and I always find myself smiling and literally kicking my legs whenever you post anything! You’re an amazing friend and I’m happy to have somebody to share my interests with!! Your art is also amazing and I adore it so much! I love when you show me little doodles you make :3

@bumble-the-sun-bee if it weren’t for you, I never would’ve ever met Storm of any of the people I now know! You’ve played the biggest part in this and I couldn’t be more grateful for you. You were one of the reasons I started experimenting with my art and why I’ve improved because of your silly little virus guy! You’re also just enjoyable to talk to and I love seeing all the art you make. It’s motivating and inspiring every time you post and I can’t thank you enough for introducing me to all of the people I know. You’re also very kind to me and I appreciate that!

@eternal-soup SOUP! You’re, again, so amazing! I really really love playing Roblox with you, and I really appreciate how you put up with my shenanigans and constant talking. You’re also so sweet towards me and others! Your voice is soothing to listen to as well and I thought you should know! :3c thank you for drawing things for me and being my friend for the months you have! And I hope we continue to be friends! You’re silly and sweet, and I find that you make me happy a lot!

@multifandomcutie13 we don’t talk a lot or interact to much, but when we do, you’re very kind! You seem like you’re a sweet person and I hope to grow our friendship through time!

@escapetheslaughters we also don’t talk a lot, but you’re still my friend! Your roleplaying is so entertaining to read and I can’t wait to interact and roleplay with you more! Your random posts also get giggles out of me, and I find joy in being apart of your blogs!!

@purplelordstudios hii!!! We actually haven’t properly spoken since Pinterest a few years ago! And I also have to thank you for being my friend back then and I hope we can maybe become good friends again now! You helped me through art and gave me some motivation for it back then, and now I enjoy seeing how you’ve grown and how your art has changed over the years! I hope to draw our OC’s together again! It’s been a while since they’ve last seen each other!

@jackamaryllis you know who you are to me, and I love you so so so much. You’re been with me my whole life, you’ve been my longest standing friend and I cannot thank you enough for that. You’re hilarious, you’re creative, you support and help me just as I do you. You’re one of the closest people in my life and I don’t ever want that to change. You mean the world to me, and I physically cannot imagine one without! I can’t wait to see you again and I can’t wait to cosplay with you again! You’re kind and you’re smart and you’re just the most amazing person I can ever ask to be in my life!

@compulsiveimpairment @bipolar-sad-and-ready-to-cry @bittyfromquotev @wonders-sunlight @pinkieglitterheart @redvelvetstars22 @animatronic-assistant @upsidedownapple @achickennamedcheese @kibblenoodlesnail

^

All of you are also so amazing, and I can’t thank you all enough for being in my life and being my mutuals! Some of you we don’t talk, but I still think about you and care for you all deeply!

I hope the new years treats every single one of you well and it’s a good year! You’ve all impacted my life in a good way and I thank you all for that. I love you all dearly /p

Happy new years (eve)!! 🫂🫂🫂

[thenameswinter99]

I saw in these days some moots’ posts that talk about the good and bad things that happened in this year, and the expectations that are hoping to achieve e in the new year.

I wasn’t sure to do this myself, even because there are a lots of things that have happened this year and most of them are not positive at all. But I’ve decided to take this “leap of faith” and share my 2024 with you, and to thank all the people that stood at my side until today.

If you want to read my little rambling, then here’s everything under the cut.

Let’s start by saying that this is probably one of the worst years I’ve had since the pandemic broke out, if not the worst. I’m struggling to over come a neverending sadness, anxiety and panic attacks, and this effects my mood swings between overstimulation and exhaustiation, often leaving me crying unexpectedly. I have done a lot of damage to myself, both physically and mentally, and I struggle a lot to get out of it.

This year, university has been overwhelming, and I’m at risk of missing my March graduation and facing extra costs as an off-course student. I’m exausted and I’m considering dropping out to focus on the job I’m currently doing, which saldy there is no contract guarantee.

On the other side, relationships have been challenging as well, and now I’ve left alone and broken. I don’t trust people on a romantic side anymore, and if I should ever stay with someone again, it would be a hard process.

This year I had to give up a lot of things, including two events I was eager to attend to meet my favorite actors. Now those events are gone, and I’m still devastated and heartbroken. I had to renounce to enroll into an acting school I hoped to attend this September, but I couldn’t and this caused me another wave of distress.

I've tried to shake off these negative feelings by at least staying positive here, enjoying all the little things and conversations we've had here, and not putting my burdens on anyone else. But after months of bottling up my feelings, I exploded and now I feel trapped by my negative emotions.

This has led to my various in-offs on this site over the last few months, but I still haven't found the inner peace I was looking for. I still feel like an outcast in the fandoms I belong to, and I always feel that I'm unwanted and unwelcomed.

However, I would have been an ipocrite to say that there hasn’t been positive things this years.

I won the “Ticketmaster battle” (as I like to call it) and I’m going to see the Imagine Dragons live in June. It’s my very first concert and I can’t wait to see them perform.

I’m going to attend some acting courses in a little theatre near the place I live. It wouldn’t be the same of the one I wanted to attend, but I would like to see it as a small step to achieve my dreams and what I want to do in my life.

And most of all, I have met here lots of friends with whom, some more some less, I’ve forged a strong bond that goes beyond the simple like and reblog of our things here on Tumblr. I love you so much, thank you for sticking with me and being the little lights in this year of pure darkness. I know I’ve been terrible in following your contents later and being a whining mess in private, but know that I appreciate all of your advices so much and I tried to use them: there are some days the sadness is literally unbearable, but it’s thanks to you that I’m still here and alive today.

I don’t want to make plans for the New Year, because every time I do them they either don’t happen or it happens the opposte of what I’ve planned, but I just want to focus to give love and attention to the only person that needs it right now but always been denied: myself. I want to use this new year to heal and to come back to the person I was before this mess, and I hope I could be here to tell you about my “redemption arc”.

With this, I would like to wish to all the tagged moots (but also the other moots and friends that follow me, because I know I will be a moron and forget some of you) a happy new year. Hope you can live a new year full of adventures and satisfactions and to achieve everything you want to achieve in your life. Hope we can be here all together to talk about all the good and bad things that will happen in this 2025.

I love you and I’ll always carry a piece of you in my heart forever. 💜

@sylasthegrim @lord-aldhelm @synintheraven @zaldritzosrose @legitalicat @foxyanon @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @sihtricsafin @gemini-mama @alexagirlie @ladyinred2248 @errruvande @leftoverp1zza @thelettersfromnoone @aneurins-barnard @kingslionheart @holy3cake @volklana @ms-oswald @arcielee @st-eve-barnes @towriteloveontheirarms @volklana

[witchezandwonderz]

Haunted By You

Pairing: Sihtric x Reader

Request: Heyyy! ♡ Do you still take requests? If yes, could you do promt 13. for Sihtric?

Prompt quote: "You call yourself a warrior, but I’ve seen more fear in a frightened hare."

A/N: This is a bit of a sad one, and tbh it is a bit chaotic- normally I really try to think out the plot but my mind is all over the place, and I wanted pure emotion, so its more of a stream of consciousness lol.

Reblogs, likes and comments are unbelievably appreciated:)

Tags: @leftoverp1zza @benkeibear @klaudsworld @whitedarkmoonflower (if you wanna be tagged/ untagged let me know:))

Four years.

It had been four years since Sihtric.

He haunted you, day in, day out.

You had spent a whirlwind of three years together- three years that were full of the most heart breaking love, lust, obsession and dedication- on your part anyway.

You had met him at an alehouse one evening; he was a friend of a friend, and as soon as you lay eyes on one another, your attraction towards each other was exceptionally clear. Much to your dismay, however, you discovered that Sihtric had a woman, already.

You respected this, of course. But it did not change the way he looked at you. It did not change the deep, hilarious, flirtatious conversations that you had every time you saw one another. In fact, it got to the point where you would all meet up and you and Sihtric would find yourselves sneaking away immediately.

Your heart soared when he told you that he had left his woman, for you. You felt like the luckiest girl in the entire world, you could finally be with the man that you knew you loved, with your whole being.

The entire situation was a whirlwind that lasted a life time.

Sometimes, Sihtric made you feel like you were the most beautiful, sexy, loved woman on the planet. But sometimes, Sihtric made you feel unappreciated, lost and empty- for he would go days without contacting you, and disregard his previous words by saying that he is not ready for such a commitment.

The last time you had seen him, he was cold. You had found out that he had been unfaithful to you, and a week after this, bumped into him at the alehouse. You were both drunk, and your attraction for one another always stood firmly. So, despite his new relationship with another, the two of you were intimate. He told you after that he regretted it, with a coldness in his eyes that you did not recognise.

He left you. He left you heartbroken, used and aching.

The past four years had not been easy, after your last meeting with Sihtric, you spend every single day and night crying, on your own in your bed. Your friends tried their best to get you out and cheer you up, but nothing worked. Sihtric had a firm grip on your heart, and you felt absolutely worthless without him.

Four years later, and you were proud of yourself- of the woman you have become. You ensured to grow, mentally- you ensured to love yourself, build your skills, your intellect. And most importantly, you had done a lot of work in forgiveness.

Sihtric haunted you. You lied to your friends when they rarely brought him up, you wanted to pretend you had forgotten. You felt embarrassed that you still thought about him, constantly.

You were able to get on with your life, of course, but he was always at the back of your mind. Thoughts of what could have been. Questions of why he treated you so carelessly. You concluded that it was simple; you fell completely in love and he did not- you forced yourself to view it this way, for if you did not, then you would drive yourself insane.

He had been a storm in your life; fierce and wild. That was how you chose to remember it.

Despite this, despite the upset and anger he had caused, you moved on and you were finally somewhat happy.

But he was not.

He had not moved on.

He missed you. He regretted leaving you. And he had not stopped thinking about you since the day he cowardly left you.

The inn was warm, its low ceilings trapping the soft glow of candlelight and the hum of quiet conversation. You did not attend this place often, but tonight had felt like an exception. Four years had passed, and you told yourself you were a different person now, unshackled from the shadows of your past. You are a hard worker, and so your friends had persuaded you to allow yourself one night of drunkenness and laughs. Or, they said, you will surely reach the brink of insanity.

Unbeknownst to you, Sihtric sat at a table in the far corner, nursing a cup of ale. His dark eyes flicked up every so often to catch glimpses of you, though you were blissfully unaware of his presence. He hadn’t meant to stay so long in this town. Passing through had been the plan, but the moment he’d seen you, smiling and relaxed among friends, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

You were happy.

And it tore at him.

He had thought of you every day for four years. Regret was a cruel companion, whispering reminders of the things he had done—the hurt he had caused you when all you had given him was trust and affection. He had loved you, in his own broken way, but he had been too selfish, too reckless to show it. And now? Now he sat in the shadows, watching a life that no longer had space for him.

He gripped the cup tighter as a laugh escaped your lips. It was the sound of something he had lost forever. He wanted you to be happy, of course. But he did not want you to be happy without him. He knew this was selfish, but that is a trait that he found himself portraying very often.

“You should go to her,” Finan muttered beside him, startling him. He hadn’t realised the Irishman was paying attention. Sihtric scoffed, in turn coming across a lot ruder than he had intended.

“She doesn’t want me near her,” Sihtric replied, his voice low, weighted with guilt.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He clenched his jaw. “I made sure of it.”

Finan's brows furrowed, "I thought you said that-"

Sihtric's cut his words with a raised voice. "I know what I said. It was partly untrue." He spat, his dark eyes still fixated on the ghost before him as he took a large swig from his ale.

Despite the growing volume throughout the alehouse, you had heard growing voices coming from the corner of the room. This grabbed your attention, as the bellow of deep voices usually meant that a disagreement was about to take place, one of your favourite ways of being entertained.

Your eyes darted to the corner, curious about the escalating exchange. For a moment, the faces were obscured by the dim light and shadows, but as you leaned slightly to get a better view, your heart stopped.

Sihtric.

Time seemed to slow as recognition hit you like a tidal wave. He looked almost the same—his jawline sharp, his dark hair slightly longer than you remembered, but it was him. The man who had unraveled you, who had left you broken and questioning your worth, was here.

And he was staring back at you.

You shook your head and closed your eyes. There no way that it was actually him, and you feared for your own sanity- not only was the thought of him haunting you, but now you were actually imagining him.

You opened your eyes once more, and there he was, still staring back at you. His head now tilted in slight confusion, seemingly because of your dramatic head shake. Your mouth opened, and your eyes widened. His facial expressions mimicked yours as you now stared at each other, pondering both your own and each others next movements.

Sihtric’s chest tightened as your eyes met. He hadn’t prepared for this, for the way seeing you would feel like both a punishment and a blessing. You were no longer the girl he’d left behind; you held yourself differently now, with a confidence that hadn’t been there before.

You did not know what to do. Three years ago, you would have marched up to him. You would have begged him, or slapped him and then slept with him. But that was no longer the woman that you were- you promised yourself you would not allow him to worm his way in again.

So, you stood up, downed your drink, wiped your face and made your way to the door- you had to get out of there.

Sihtric saw you rise up, and selfishly thought that you perhaps had the intention of approaching him. His heart however smashed into a million pieces when you ran towards the door and left.

“Do something,” Finan hissed under his breath, nudging him with an elbow.

Sihtric started panicking, for within his head he was having a battle; he wanted to run after you- he needed to run after you, but what if you didn't want him too? What if he was going to ruin you again?

Sihtric glared at him, his jaw working as he struggled to find the courage he had abandoned years ago. “I can’t,” he muttered.

“You’re a bloody coward,” Finan shot back, shaking his head in disgust. “You call yourself a warrior, but I’ve seen more fear in a frightened hare.”

The words stung, but Sihtric couldn’t deny their truth. He had fought battles, spilled blood, but facing you—facing the damage he had done—was a battle he didn’t know how to win.

He let out a deep breath and shot Finan a glare before using both of his fists to bang the table. He stood up firmly and ran after her, without any further thoughts of what he should actually say when he finds you. If he finds you.

The night air was sharp and cold, a contrast to the warmth of the alehouse. You stood a short distance away, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. You couldn’t believe it. Sihtric. After all these years.

You cursed yourself for running. It wasn’t like you to flee from anything, let alone a man who no longer held power over you. And yet, the sight of him had stirred something you thought you’d buried—a mix of anger, longing, and an ache you couldn’t name.

Footsteps echoed behind you, hurried and uneven. Your heart leapt as you turned, and there he was, standing a few paces away, his chest heaving as though he had run the whole distance.

“Wait,” Sihtric called, his voice rough and low.

You stiffened, unsure of whether to stay or to leave. But something in his expression held you there—an almost desperate sincerity that made your throat tighten.

“What do you want, Sihtric?” you asked, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

He paused, his hands flexing at his sides as though searching for the right words. “I… I'm sorry”

You scoffed, your anger flaring. “You are sorry?” You shook your head. “Four years, Sihtric. Four years, and you just show up out of nowhere?”

“I didn’t plan this,” he said quickly, stepping closer. “I didn’t even know you’d be here. I hoped that you would. And then when I saw you…” His voice faltered, and he dropped his gaze to the ground. “I had to come after you.”

“Why?” you demanded, your voice rising. “So you can break my heart all over again? To remind me how stupid I was to believe in you?”

Sihtric felt sad, he had never evoked a reaction like this from you- he had never seen this side to you.

"No, so that I can tell you that I love you." His words fell from his mouth- he had never told anyone that he loved them before, and you had never thought you would ever hear him speak such emotions.

"You love me?" You laughed bitterly, before turning around, in order to stop yourself from hitting him.

He followed you though, refusing to allow you to look away from him.

"Y/N, I know that I was wrong, and awful and cold and you did not deserve any of it but I did not know myself, I had things that I had to learn and work on and think about." His words tumbled once again, full of chaos and pure emotion.

He grabbed your hands in the attempt to stop your pacing and look at him once again.

You stared at him, your anger still simmering beneath the surface. “And what? You’ve suddenly figured it all out now? After four years?”

“I don’t expect you to believe me,” he admitted, his voice softening. “I don’t even know if I deserve your forgiveness. But I’ve spent every single day thinking about you, about what I lost. You taught me how to love, and I was too much of a fool to see it then.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over the walls you’d built around yourself. But the pain he had caused still lingered, sharp and unrelenting.

“You hurt me, Sihtric,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “You broke me in ways I didn’t think were possible. And now you just want me to forget all of that?”

Sihtric shook his head no, and used his index finger and thumb to clasp the bridge of his nose, in a strange attempt to calm his nerves. You shrugged before speaking once again. "I have moved on."

Sihtric stopped at your words, panic and anger flashing within his dark eyes. "You are with another?" He probed. You wanted to lie and say yes, but as your mouth opened you realised that you could not lie to him, even after everything.

"No, Sihtric." You breathed, in turn earning a sigh of relief from him. "You haunt me, Sihtric. I have tried being with others, and allowing them in but not one man on this earth compares to you, as much as I wish it wasn't the case."

Sihtric's breath hitched at your words, a flicker of hope mingling with the torment etched across his face. For a moment, he seemed frozen, his hands falling to his sides as he absorbed what you had just confessed.

“You don’t know how much I wish I didn’t haunt you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with regret. “But selfishly… hearing that I still do—it makes me feel like maybe there’s still a chance.”

You narrowed your eyes, your anger flaring again despite the ache in your chest. “A chance for what, Sihtric? For you to come back into my life and rip it apart again? I can’t keep doing th-"

efore you could finish your sentence, Sihtric closed the space between you in one swift, deliberate motion, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was unlike anything you’d experienced before—urgent yet tender, a raw outpouring of all the love, regret, and longing he had kept locked away. His hands cradled your face, his fingers threading into your hair as if anchoring himself to you, afraid you might slip away.

Your resistance melted in an instant. The passion in his kiss unlocked the ache you had carried for years, dissolving your anger and fear in a tide of longing. Your hands gripped his tunic, pulling him closer as you matched his intensity, your body betraying the walls you had worked so hard to build.

When he finally pulled back, his breath came in uneven gasps, his forehead pressing gently against yours. His eyes were wild with emotion, the faint glow of moonlight catching the unshed tears that clung to his lashes.

“I can’t lose you again,” he said, his voice trembling with raw vulnerability. "I refuse."

He grabbed you again, this time with accelerated desperation in his movement. The kiss was fire and confession, his hands moving to cradle your face with an almost frantic tenderness. His lips pressed to yours as though each moment could be his last, pouring into you the depth of his regret, the ferocity of his love, and the promise of a future he was desperate to build with you.

He suddenly pulled his face from yours, your eyes still closed from the passion of the kiss- everything was happening so quickly and you could not help but feel overwhelmed from all of the emotions that were being both confessed to you and stirring within you.

He dropped to one knee, his hands never leaving yours. Your breath hitched as his words came tumbling out. “I’ve spent four years haunted by the way I failed you. I’ve fought battles, faced death, and yet nothing has ever terrified me as much as losing you forever.”

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. “Sihtric…”

“I know I don’t deserve this. I know I’ve hurt you in ways I’ll regret until my dying day,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “But I love you. I’ve always loved you, and if you give me this chance, I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”