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zzencat · 5 months ago

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Your Person When They Realize They Want More With You (+ character traits) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. Choose the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Applicable to a current or future person. This is someone that wants to be someone more to you. Warnings: tooth-rottingly sweet. Some suggestiveness. Some angst.

BEFORE YOU CHOOSE. Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

———————————

Pile 1. “If we’re both still single by 30, let’s get married.” “Deal.”

•you could be coworkers OR someone who goes in the same direction as you in the morning

• one day, a thought will cross their mind when they’re ordering your favorite so-and-so, maybe coffee, maybe favorite pastry, OR they randomly keep remember weird details about you(?) like “oh y/n likes this…”—cuz they’ll be like “wait…why do I know that? lol why did I just randomly rmr that…” they’ll laugh it off,,,,and then they see you again later and their heart beats a different way…

• they honestly did not see you like this before…

• ear muffs and black sweaters…puffy jackets…perhaps it’s cold/snowing when it hits them how radiant you look

•honestly a very sweet fs. if you’re okay with vanilla people, this is def for you. if not, let’s spice it upppp (you gotta do it)

• it’s weird bc it hits them gradually too. like thinking “why are you still single…why am i still single?”

• you guys have a mature vibe. ^^(relating to previous point) a lot of this pile’s fs will realize their feelings too late or will realize when you’re both financially stable

• maybe you give the vibe you’re not interested in them or you don’t have the intention of getting married—at some point you may have mentioned this to them, sober or drunk, and they rmr it so their being cautious and gauging how you could feel about them, if you feel anything for them at all

• childhood friend kind of energy. I really don’t think you see them in this way either, not until they start acting weird around you. All of sudden, they’re not smiling as much anymore and maybe they’re averting their gaze more

• it sucks bc you’ll question why and will feel weirded out when they start avoiding you, turning down your requests to hang out…

• I’m getting a very empty feel. Either you feel empty without them or they’ve been on dates with other people in the past (you’re wondering how tf they still haven’t settled) and it’s bc they’re not feeling that “unidentifiable”…spark. Like the one they should be feeling on dates with new people, but no…it’s just…dry. They don’t know what it is tho. All of these people are attractive and share the same interests, yet there’s just something missing…

• if you give this a try, you will fall very fuckin hard

• ^^ having thoughts like “how tf do they know how to cook? were they always this hot?” lawd…noticing the small things about them and it’ll get you blushin

• honestly…there’s gonna be a huge difference in communication. you’ll probably be a bit pissed- like “why are you acting so weird? have you been avoiding me?”

• they’d give you all these excuses of why they can’t hang out, and that’s bc they wanna be a lone with their feelings. They’ll try to suppress it at first because there’s just no sign that you like them back, no indication of you even feeling anything romantic towards them, and it kills them…

• I honestly see this person suffering alone from it. They’ve got all this worry and bad energy and it’s not even your fault, so the energy is just going inwards. They can’t express it- they don’t even want to verbally acknowledge it bc they’re THAT sensitive to the fact that they like you and the potential of you not liking them back. It’s really just their own mind and doubts being the bad guy

• why is this happening in a car? 😳 you might have to conjure up a little ruse to get them in one place bc they are definitely avoiding you

• I’m really getting the feeling that you were oblivious. Like it had NOT occurred to you once that they could’ve had feelings for you. The most you would’ve thought of your relationship with them is a friendship

• ^^ bc ngl a prominent portion of this group think the fs is too good for them, like out of their league—both in physical and status

• they could be tall and wear glasses, or fit and good facial bone structure

• if you mention another person (that you could possibly interested in) they’ll purse their lips and play up that they’re happy for you (but trust me, it’s fake as hell and you’ll see it). Like they won’t even be able to hold a real smile bc they’re already hurt by the possibilities. OR they just go quiet and say “oh, really?” *looks down, hands in pockets* if you’re both standing up. If you’re one of the oblivious bunch, you’ll notice their tone change but you won’t understand what’s wrong. (there’s also a split amount of you that would ask what’s wrong and others that won’t)

• BUUUT there’s also a handful of fs in this pile that will look down at their feet, hands in pockets, maybe even wearing a beanie, and will avoid your eyes while passive aggressive shooting down the other person. For example, if you compliment this other person, they’ll quietly be like “well, they’re not THAT good…”

• if you’re not giving any signs STILL? then this person will try to suppress their feelings even more and will start going on dates again. this person isn’t the most optimistic when it comes to this—which I can’t blame them for bc I think you treat them TOO much like a friend or family and joke around too casually with them that they think it’s permanently stuck like that—EVEN THO you haven’t even rejected them. there’s also a chance you’d never even friendzoned them. Perhaps when you two were younger, you were like “ewww 🤮🤮🤮” to the prospect, but now that things are different, you’re not totally opposed to it…maybe it’s crossed your mind once or twice, but you didn’t think much of it really…

•hella puppy vibes from this person tho. either they look the part or act it

•I feel kind of sad for your fs only bc some of you could friendzone them or at least have given off that vibe to them. you would go out to events with this person, even 1-on-1 and not even think of it romantically while your person is feeling this one-sided love

• it’s up to you guys if you want to date this person or not, but if you do, they will literally do EVERYTHING for you- esp the planning

• very strong cold weather, scarves, hot drinks, cold region

•this person tries to invite you out often

• i will also mention, this pile is more likely to date this person than pile 3 is to date theirs

• if you do end up dating, in the beginning stage of this relationship, they’re just shy as hellllll and you’re like “what? 😃” when you catch them staring at you — in the beginning stage, they’re prone to laughing/giggling a lot when yall make eye contact and looking away so you don’t see how flustered they are

• you could be an extrovert OR if not, you just really enjoy being around this person. their personality and presence balances out yours

• you might be unsure of what you want in a romantic partner, open to different cultures/people, kind of in your own world(?) —> like not fixated on one thing or it’s easy for you to get caught up with multiple projects/easily distracted and this person keeps track of you/keeps you grounded

• if you figure out that they have feelings for you, you’ll start to feel bad for not seeing it earlier, you’ll start to hella ruminate about it and the more you think abt them, the cuter and more appealing they seem to you

Points of Interest: infj? overthinker for sure, introvert but still good with people, the color gold, “we’re just hanging out,” going to dinner often, getting mistaken for a couple, 7:43 pm, *shrugs* “idk maybe” (from your side), unwarranted sass (from both sides), no hookups—this person wants a genuine relationship with you, “you have shit taste in love interests”(lmfao???), car fights, “wifey” *takes Snapchat selfie while sitting in the passenger seat with the more feminine energy driving*(…nah listen, if the more masc energy be saying this? dude is immediately submissive), curly hair or FLUFFY hair, lots of thick hair, you make this person feel like a kid…like you bring them back to when they didn’t have to worry about jobs and taxes, financial stability, maturity, miscommunication, amusement park dates, trench coats, “I’m feeling kind sick. Sorry 😞”, excuses, excuses, excuses, “why haven’t you been answering my texts?”, catching them try to shamelessly avoid you at the parking at their workplace, going to movies with this person and them treating it like a date (even when you don’t see it that way), when will they make an actual move??

——————

Pile 2. “What are you looking at?”

• yooo have you been to this person’s house before? 😳👀

•idk if you realize this pile 2, but if it was just the two of you, alone, with some dimmed down lights and faint jazz in the background? it could get down and dirty real quick. but only if you’re not sober and not a stubborn person. otherwise, this person isn’t who you’d initially think of as spouse-material

• I’m pretty sure this person has thought abt it before. 200% sure. Not sure if you’ve caught this, but they check you out a lot. They’ve had their eyes on you for a while…

• idk if they’re a huge flirt or just really gives off sensual vibes, but this person is hot…damn

• something about their eyes. They always look so sensual? Or they look really seductive? They’ve got *those* eyes ykwim? They’re also very laidback so that adds to their sexiness

• I think I lot of people wanna sleep with this person, so you’re in an unsaid “competition” — or at least the people around you see it as such. you might get a few dirty looks or sneaky glances your way from jealous people and it’s honestly tiring. you won’t care but it’s just an extra bug on your shoulder

• an issue tho is that you could find this person untrustworthy or not ready for commitment. they’re just hot AND THEY KNOW IT, so if someone asks them for a piece, they’ll easily give themselves — BUT what you don’t know is that a lot of the fs, NOT ALL, in this pile are very picky with who they want

• if you’re smart, this person could tease you for it. only bc they find it super sexy tho. You’re not exactly friends, just acquaintances/partners in business? People who know of each other because of mutual things or people. They know you secretly want them tho even if you try to keep composure

• I’m sure a lot of this pile thinks this person is conceited as hell or you could even cringe at how they are, and you wouldn’t admit in front of them (not even to yourself) that you do find them attractive

• if you’re stubborn, possess a lot of self control, or perhaps hold yourself and others to a standard, maybe it’s just hard for people to get into your pants in general—but this person will like that. they think you have substance to you and you’re not like the rest

• This person likely has a bunch of yes-men around them. It’s a pretty privilege thing

• pretty mysterious and even prettier eyes

• smth about those eyes man… you’d blow up if you look too long or steam might start coming outta your ears

• a lotttt smarter than they play out to be

• if you’ve never been with this person sexually, they’d be so down. if you’ve hooked up once, they’d hit you up again

• even tho this person seems noncommittal, once they commit, they REALLY do

• this person might be wealthy or has grown up in an affluent space

• OR they’ve grown up playing sports

•I don’t think they view people as “pawns” necessarily. I think you perceive them as super popular but in reality, they only consider a handful of friends, real friends. this person isn’t dumb and they know who kisses their ass

•your deviance will intrigue them. not conforming to what they want and what the people around them are like. you do what you want and they like that. they like that you also don’t settle for less.

•but I have to say, these people don’t chase. If you end up with this person, it’s bc you grew the balls to ask them out and they, impressed, agreed to it. Outside, they LOOK the same- like carry the same expression on dates, but inside, they know there’s something more to you

• it’s most likely an ego thing. They don’t do the asking out if you’re someone minding your own business

• both of you guys have an ego thing tho. This person beats you by a smidge but you think they get too much credit for just…existing.

• they’re thinking how people usually try to get with them, but bc you haven’t yet, that kind of…tugs their attention a bit. (Their spirit doesn’t want me to make it obvious that they’re lowkey affected by it lmfaoo). It’ll hang in the back of their mind, yes, but it’s not something they think about randomly in the middle of the day

• this person has found or will find success early in life…in their 20s or even before. Some of it may be due to their looks getting them the opportunities, but they haven’t done modeling. At least, not for the sake of modeling. I don’t think it’s an interest of theirs. Heavy on business person tho or someone pursuing a profession in business/finance/economics

• this person’s jaw is nicely shaped. they don’t have too much fat around their jaw

• weirdly, they can be smart for their age. I think they feel a bit of pressure from being praised for so long for looking so good that they have to perform at that same level

• there will be chances for you to actually speak to them regularly, but they will seldom make the first move. they want you to pursue so it doesn’t hurt their ego. if they can’t take it anymore, they’ll approach you (preferably at an event or somewhere where youre kind of…disillusioned? stood up, standing alone somewhere feeling insecure abt something…not in the right state of mind/unbalanced mind

•i’m not getting too many extroverts here. high chance a lot of you are introverted and would rather not be at this event. you either pushed yourself to be here or you HAD to be here. the people at this kind of event are not for you…you don’t like a lot of them and some of them feel the same towards you. you don’t care too much tho (maybe a little but not to the point where it hurts your self esteem)

Points of Interest: suits, symmetrical face, blessed features, POSSIBLY MIXED RACE, hazel colored hair, brown or tan skin, hair that compliments skin color, eyes with soul, kinky as hell, realllly good looking, switch in bed, there’s a lot of emphasis on this person’s looks, “don’t try to fight it,” 50 shades of grey (😂?!?), “if you want me, just say so”, any slow Chris Brown song, some fs here has stubble, laidback, single hand in pocket, isn’t scared to make eye contact with you, will leave a conversation with their friend midway to talk to a potential lover/partner in bed interest, zayn malik is not leaving my brain, very slow and sensual vibe, the color black or darker shades, tons of eye fucking (from them to you), intense gaze and especially intense eyes (the staring into your soul type, full of desire and curiosity type), black clothing, mysteriousness, unable to look away, intj vibes

———————

Pile 3. Best friends forever.

• This one feels more sad than the other piles bc it’s just straight up unrequited love (from you). they’ve got the fattest crush going on but you may not feel the same way.

• ^^ damn yeah…i’m getting a mixed bag for this. some of you are open towards it but the other half of you are really not interested

• This person has to have started out as a friend first and then started making subtle, almost too subtle and friendly, gestures that they’re interested in you

• similar to pile 1, you won’t be able to tell that they like you. UNLESS, they get super (very obviously) shy when asking you to go somewhere with them, like a movie or something — and you’ll be able to tell with the stuttering and head scratching and fidgeting, might struggle to make eye contact but will try

• ^^^ The biggest distinction between this pile and pile 1 is that this person is a full on FRIEND. pile 1 is more of friends that fell apart and are reconnecting, while not considered to be a part of your friend group or close friends. in pile 3, there’s an obvious disconnect, like some kind of veil between you two, and it’s really bc they only see you, but to you, this person is a ghost. someone that you really only feel platonic towards.

• they could be soft spoken or has a very… “non-aggressive” voice when speaking to you specifically

• tries to send you funny stuff or make conversation on text — 50/50 answering you right away bc they don’t wanna seem desperate/obvious, but they’ll remember to respond in the same day

• i think they hold back a lot tbh. like they have to sling back to composure whenever you’re around

• stares at you a lot in a group setting

• this person is sooooo similar to pile 1, but more…masochistic? lmfao I mean as in…wanting to be around you even when they know that they don’t have a chance or even after you’d straight up rejected them

• to be honest, there’s a chance you don’t like them that way because of their looks? the personality is perfectly fine but they’re not the type of person you’d go for if you’re looking for someone super attractive (this might be a bit harsh, but maybe a big part of why you’re comfy around them is bc they’re not someone that has model type looks? like it makes you less nervous around them than you would be around someone crazy good looking)

• stalks your social media a lot, doesn’t look at other people. you literally occupy their mind around the clock

• some people here might date this person, only for a little time tho bc there could be someone else you’re interested in, so you end up breaking up. for everyone else, you’re just really unlikely to date this person bc they’re too far from what you consider a romantic partner

• in a monogamous relationship, these are the type of people that would forgive you and welcome you back into their lives if you cheated on them

• an extremely SMALL portion of you, and i mean very small, will actually see this person for who they are and will decide to stay with them. idk if this is out of pity, “oh it’s bc I feel bad for them 🥹”, or possible regret- like “if I don’t date this person, I might regret it”—looking at it like a missed opportunity?? if you genuinely like them and grow fond of them, it will come later and like I said, an extremely small amount of you (~99.9% nonexistent)

• in rejection, this person takes YEARS to get over it. even if they try dating someone else, they’ll think about you and will show care towards you — some will try to be less obvious like “it’s fine i’m over it 🙂‍↔️” but nah, you can feel it. at some point, you could feel annoyed about this

• there’s a small chance that they believe you’ll give them a chance after rejection so they won’t date easily—unless you end up dating someone else and they know abt it, then they’ll do the previous bullet point

Points Of Interest: emotionally masochistic bc they keep wanting to be around you even when they’re hurt (if rejected, this person NEEDS to take some months away from you. idk if they’ll do that right away or not), “nothing else to say”, “that’s okay, I can wait”, awkward, unrequited love, unbreakable loyalty, “aww you’re so sweet”, this person is super rebound energy, gets their heart broken and welcomes the heartbreaker in again, snapback, acne, crooked smile, possible mbti involved (you or them): enfj, enfp, infp, isfj, esfj

———————

Teddy Note: Enjoy this one guys!! As always, thank you for reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t :)

Teddy outtt 😎😎😎

#tarot blog #tarot reading #daily tarot #relationship pac #love pac #divination #pac tarot #tarotblr #intuition #pick a pile #pick a card #love reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #tarot masterlist #tarotcommunity #pac reading

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thr0wnawayy · 4 months ago

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Chapter 429 has been my Dabi's Dance

I can't stop smiling.

I wanted to start off by saying thank you. Not to Hori, but to you all. Every last one of you in these tags for your contributions. Be it analysis, re-reads, fan works or simply your perspectives. I look forward to seeing what you will make in the future.

So, Thank you.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. MHA was always in the background of my life and I hated it. I don't watch anime and yet still MHA related media would make it's way onto my socials in all it's obnoxious forms. This went on for years.

And then suddenly, it stopped. It seemed like MHA's craze had died down, I'd still see it from time to time through merchandise but never to the consistency it had prior.

That was until Dabi's Dance was published and the net went wild.

I knew a few things about Endeavor from my past exposure, he was universally hated and abused his kids and wife (to the point she scalded her son in a fit of psychosis).

Deciding I had nothing better to do, I found myself searching to see what kind of consequences would befall such a monstrous character.

Would he fall like Icarus, be torn apart by the public, how would the family he ruined react to the news?.

And then, nothing. No punishment, no reaction. Just dead air.

I recall that my face dropped internally. My blank expression mirrored my phone screen's sterile nature, as it displayed the information in front of me.

He got away with it. So I did some digging and it got so much worse.

Bakugo's evasion of any consequences or damages, coddled and shielded by Hori's inability to go through on anything.

Hawks who murdered a near crippled man on a hypothesis, for the mere crime of having the "wrong" quirk, for not giving up, for being "unlucky"

Aizawa, Hori's little mouthpiece. who decides to play judge, jury and executioner with the futures of students he's supposed to be teaching. Only for the Nedzu and the narrative to allow him, his friends turned into lapdogs that agree to the letter.

The Commission who strive to keep theirrotting husk of a system alive through assasins, child soldiers and indoctrination.

Even if it's gears must be lubricated with blood, even if it means lying to the world and having them clean up the mess. They MUST stay on top, the illusion must be upheld.

I just couldn't fathom how this was seen as a good thing.

And somewhere along the way I began to feel something akin to hate. Not your typical ire, one powered by anger, no.

I wanted to see how low Hori would go, just how horrifically he would mangle a series that everyone had once praised.

I wanted to witness what wonders a jaded community would create, to show what they were capable of (to create and understand MHA in a manner Hori wishes he could even emulate a fraction of)

I wished to see your own expressions of love and hatred.

The thought of witnessing the breaking point, the dust settling to expose all the glaring flaws and infested wounds of MHA. It buzzed in my brain like electricity.

The idea that when all was said and done, you, the people would do what Hori couldn't/wouldn't and forge the bones and salvagble bits of MHA into a story worth remembering.

One where abusers are punished for their crimes instead of rewarded

Where victims can have a voice, feel and grow, carve their own paths and move forward from their trauma.

Where the implications of MHA's rotting and disingenuous society get explored instead of swept under the rug

Where people get a chance.

I waited eagerly for the day it would all fall apart.

So, do you know what I did when I logged onto the tag and saw your posts!?.

I laughed, the shrill giggle in the back of my throat quickly surging into an almost manic cackle. It was like lightning, vindicating and sobering all at once. My face was stretched to it's absolute limits with how wide my grin was. I could almost hear the shattering of MHA's last bit of integrity and I loved it.

The realization MHA's greatest threat was the author himself, It's one that I grasped long ago (as far back as the Dark Dekiru Arc) and I'm sure most of you understood this as well.

But to see that more of you are starting to get it, to realize there's no going back. That as the curtains draw near and the lights begin to dim, there is no other side here. Violence begets violence and Hori's gone past the event horizon.

It feels, hopeful. Perhaps we can build something worth saving.

It's been a wild ride so far and it's still ongoing. Hori's time is long over, it has been for a while now, so I suppose what I'm asking Is:

Now It's Your Turn, what's your play?

_______________________________________

Update:

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

youtube

#bnha critical #anti bakugo katsuki #anti endeavor #mha critical #anti bakugou #anti eraserhead #anti aizawa #Youtube

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schrodinger-swriter · 9 months ago

Note

I know i disappeared for a while but im back and my brain is stuck on the idea of winged characters with a reader whos afraid of heights, i know you take up to 4 characters at a time so could you try this with, adam, lucifer, lute, and husk if thats alright? feel free to ignore :]

-🎸

Adam, Lucifer, Lute and Husk x Reader who is afraid of heights

As this is the first post to contain more than four characters, I'm unsure of how long this will actually end up being... though I hope you enjoy, Anon!

LUCIFER:

He's fairly respectful of your discomforts, opting to not carry you off unless it is absolutely necessary. As in.. unless he needs to scoop you up to get you out of trouble, he's going to keep your feet firmly planted on the ground. The only time he may slip up is if he rushes at you and twirls you around with him in the air... in a hug, slightly taking you off the ground in a moment of excitement for one reason or another. Though, that hardly counts as flying, does it? Very giggly, though he does put you down as soon as you start stiffening, mumbling out apologies.. I do think at some point he might try to help you face your fear so he can show you things.

ADAM:

I would like to take a moment to apologize to the Adam fans, but I do think he would be a douchebag. Either he would downplay it or he would think you being scared of heights is.. rather pathetic. Bonus if you have wings yourself. Now does he go out of his way to make you shake in fear and lock up? No, but sometimes he does tease you about it, kind of egging you on to join him if you have wings yourself. He doesn't really thing it's that serious, so there's going to need to be a discussion between the two of you to set hard boundaries.

LUTE:

She doesn't think much of it. Does she think you should get over your fear so you have the option to flee with her in the form of flight when you need to be taken out of a dangerous situation? Oh definitely. But she might just do that regardless of if it scares you or not. Your safety trumps your comfort, in her eyes. Which... is fair.. it's harsh but it's understandable. Similar to Lucifer she's not going to force you, but she is open to helping you lean into it. She does find it a little hard to relate, or to be... sensitive. Of course she does, she isn't scared of flight and there aren't many things that give her pause. Perhaps this could be a moment for her to understand other people and how they work, as opposed to always being this killing machine?

HUSK:

He... to put it as nicely as he can.. Does not care. It's not his business and he doesn't fly much himself unless he needs it to do a task. If anything he mostly uses his wings to give himself a little boost on the battle field, and perhaps even as a makeshift shield? Point being, he is not much of a flyer unless it's needed. He's not going to make fun of your fear, but he is going to begrudgingly help you if you want to get over it. He doesn't get excited much, at least not to the extent that would have him twirling you in the air like Lucifer would.. The most indifferent to it out of these four.

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hiramaris · 1 year ago

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Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

A story revolving around the newly arrived resident farmer in the eyes of the personified perfection, the sunflower of Pelican Town herself, Haley. Or. When Haley finally met the person that caused ripples in what was once a stagnant town, and she didn’t know how to handle such massive change.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Notes:

Haley's heart events are just soooo wifey, especially after marriage. Her character development is well written off but I just can't help but notice that something is missing, like the heart events are just not that connected in some way. Stardew is an absolute gem don't get me wrong. I'd like to try and connect what I think is missing which is the reason this fic is created. P.S. Second try in making fanfiction. I apologize for any future grammatical errors or whatever. English is not my primary language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self

Gif from reddit.com

Winter 25

Immobile.

Stagnant.

Bland.

What words could possibly do justice to describe this sleepy town? Pelican Town had its charms sure. It’s peaceful, the air is fresh, and would never choke you on your sleep plus it gives a really nice tan so Haley wouldn’t really complain.

But it was just so... boring. Was that the right term?

The people are meh, nosy, and just as bland but they are good neighbors though don't get her wrong. They look after them— her and Emily when their parents can’t.

Ugh.

Them again. Thinking about them just makes her angry— blood boiling and all that, and well… sad which is infuriating.

How can you just leave your kids just to go follow your own dreams and travel? And then act like you care just by sending some half-hearted letter? Sending a letter now and then was hardly enough to make up for their absence. How low could that be?

Emily doesn’t think so. But what does she know? Her cooking was as bland as the town, and her obsession with crystals and hippie clothes was just plain ridiculous. She knows nothing.

Her sister is anything but pessimistic. She saw the light in everything whereas Haley ever saw them through the lens of her camera.

Capturing a single moment in a photograph was a thousand times more vivid and alive than the bleak and colorless reality she was currently living in.

She should be in college right now, pursuing her dreams, being the center of attention, and having boys falling over themselves to impress her. Or she would have been running her own photography studio by now in a city that never sleeps, schmoozing with some famous photographers and carving a niche for herself in the cut-throat world of photography.

But no, because here she was, stuck in a six-mile drive from the nearest city, life as directionless as the people in here.

Why am I even staying here? She wonders.

Oh, yeah— grandma.

This house is hers. Her house is the only thing that made her feel that Grandma is still here, with them. Even though Haley is talking big about leaving this town, she knew to herself that she doesn’t have the strength to just leave it just like that. Which is why they both tried to keep it tidy and well... avoiding it from falling apart.

Aside from that, there was nothing to do here. The only things keeping her sane were her camera, her phone, and the clothes she ordered online.

Oh, and of course, her best friend, Alex.

He's the only one— aside from Emily and of course, the Mullner residence, Granny and George are good people even though George is grumpy all the time, that she's able to have a decent conversation. She and Alex are, after all, not the sharpest tool in the shed, and shared almost the same brain cell.

He’s that typical jock boy, ripped as hell but in terms of brain, well… meh. Not like Haley's any better so who is she to judge?

They went to the same school, belonged to the same clique, and were both popular, of course. He’s here to practice his grid ball or whatever but Haley knew better.

Alex, despite being the dungus that he is, has a lot on his plate already. He needs the peace this town can offer.

And maybe, maybe I need it, too.

Maybe being away from the city has a good cause, despite her constant complaints, this town has been her home for the past six years after all.

But she just really couldn’t help but dwell on this stupid thought of hers of being stagnant and directionless at this time of the year.

Winter.

Ugh. It’s stupidly cold outside and there’s no way she’s walking in six-inch snow just to get a quality photo, which isn’t much considering the lighting outside does not satisfy her at all. The only, and probably one good thing about winter is peppermint coffee. It's hot, minty, and makes her feel warm while making her mouth worthy of being sucked on— err... that's a want that cannot be sated as of the moment.

The bachelors in this town suck for real. They are not even worthy of a single glance. Apart from Alex, of course, but he's a friend so... no.

And what's made it double suck is that she ran out of peppermint coffee. Pierre is out of stock and there's no way she'll let herself be caught alive inside that creep manager's store that runs Joja or whatever.

Now she's stuck sitting at the table, devouring a massive pink cake that could feed an entire family, enduring a coffee so bland it makes her want to try and drink tea.

She hates tea.

Oh yeah, she's also holding a note and a sunflower in her other hand.

She doesn't want to read the letter but considering the gifts she just received, it’s probably just the same lame-ass apology about being unable to be here on her birthday this coming Spring 14th. Not that it mattered anymore; it had been two years of absence, and she had grown used to it by now.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the note onto the table, debating whether to toss it into the fireplace or tear it to shreds or whatever.

If it's just another excuse, she doesn’t want to hear it.

"Haaaay!" And there's a familiar voice.

"If you don't have peppermint coffee with you I swear to Yoba—"

"What's the case, long face?" he quipped. "And no, I don't have anything with me."

She looked up from her cake, finding Alex strolling in their kitchen with one of his shit-eating grins, hair covered with a concerning amount of snow. She grimaced. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you."

He feigned a hurt expression. "I thought you loved me though."

"According to gossip, maybe but really, I don't," she deadpanned.

He cackled at the mention of that. At the center of the gossip mill passing down from Marnie, Jodi, and Caroline, maybe Robin, too, and probably all the yoga club, is he and Haley dating. Which was absurd, to be honest.

"No, really, Hay." He finally turns serious. "What's up? What's got your face looking like that?"

"It's just the stupid climate." Haley tried to lie. She didn't want to stir up drama at the moment. Alex frowned, catching up with her lie almost immediately. He caught sight of the letter Haley threw earlier. "Alex don't—"

Too late. He already got it. He sat down next to her as he read the contents of the note, his brows furrowing in what she assumes is annoyance. "Parents, huh? Same old, same old?" He raised an eyebrow.

Haley huffed and snatched the letter away. "Yes, the usual."

"Well." Alex propped his elbow on the backrest, a sly grin returning to his face. "I just got the perfect news that might take your mind off things."

Haley arched a perfect eyebrow, curious. Gossip wasn't his usual forte.

"Spill."

"A new farmer is coming to town."

Haley's fork paused in mid-air. "Uh... I'm not sure how to react to that, and what's so great about it?"

His smile widened. "I heard she's from Zuzu City."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Why? Surprised another Zuzu native is coming here?"

"No, you dungus." She slapped his hand attempting to take a slice of her cake. "I heard you correctly, right? You said the farmer's a she? A girl is taking over that farm?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, finally snagging a bite of cake. Haley makes a scrunched face in mock disgust. "The farmer's a she. Old man Railey's granddaughter actually. What's the problem though?" he asked in mouthfuls.

Haley stood up to grab another spoon. No way she's getting his imaginary cooties. Alex doesn't seem to mind; it only further encourages him to eat some more.

"Because it’s weird," she said as she sat down. "Farming isn't exactly a girl's job, especially for a city girl like her. I bet you she wouldn't last a month."

"Not all girls are like you, Hay— ow! What's that for?!" He rubbed his ribs where Haley just nudged with her boniest elbow of all time.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted." She rolled her eyes. "Farming is all dirt and nasty, smelly clothes. That farm was barely run by old man Railey before he died. What could possibly a city girl like his granddaughter could do with that rundown farm? I bet you it’s already smoldering by now."

"Good point," Alex said as he continued eating. Haley swear to Yoba all this idiot does is eat and relax in here.

He has a diet, right? So does she, and they're like eating a fat block of sugar right now.

Whatever. Pink cake has always been an exemption from all her seasonal dietary plans.

"But I guess we'll have to wait and see; don't you think so?" Alex turned to her after a few moments of silence. "I heard she's around our age. If it's true that farming is as difficult as they say, the least we can do is make her feel welcomed."

Haley barely nods in acknowledgment.

This town is like a pond, where everything that enters stays and everyone already there remains. The city is a raging storm with ocean waves ready to swallow you if you go against the flow. A lot of people there has a sense of direction, one Haley aspires to have, and what Pelican lacks. You can't, at all costs, be still and unmoved and some people just couldn't do that.

And those people who couldn't stand the pressure, come here, like a moth drawn to a flame, seeking the mundanity Pelican Town could offer them. Perhaps they have grown weary of the constant hustle and bustle. Maybe city life has been too much. Maybe modern life has been too much for this farmer.

Who knows?

But one thing Haley doesn't like, and what keeps her unmoved and still, is change. Adapting, and adjusting isn't meant for her. It took years before she could finally settle a lifestyle in this town, and another two years of adjustment when her parents decided it would be a good idea to abandon them and go travel. She knew where to go, where townspeople go just so she could avoid interacting with them, she accustomed herself to their culture, and the perfect spots for taking pictures. She has it all memorized and planned out perfectly.

And this farmer will be an anomaly to her perfectly (not as perfect as she thought) crafted routine. New face, a new attitude, and just an overall new person she might be obligated to talk to for the sake of introduction.

Pelican is a stagnant pond, yet this farmer, this alien to her world, she's not yet even here but she is already starting to cause ripples.

And Haley doesn't know what to think of it.

~~~~~

Notes:

The title was inspired by Cigarettes After Sex' Kiss it off me. Their songs are such *chef's kiss* and whilst I was listening to this song, it kind of, sorta, reminded me of how my farmer sees her wife. Thus kabooOm this fic is born

Edit: Because I'm procrastinating and I made sure to finish off my other story first, I decided now to transfer this story from Ao3 to Tumblr

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew fanfic #stardew alex #stardew haley #sdv

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study-diaries · 3 months ago

Text

How to avoid distractions while studying.

Social Media.

I personally know how hard it is to study when constant social media notifications are popping up so i just turn them off. This is obvious and the easiest way. Keep your phone in another room while you're studying.

Youtube

Here's the thing, YouTube is something we can't avoid, especially when it comes to studying because many times, we want to learn from the videos but end up getting distracted and therefore, i maintain 2 accounts. One, a personal account where I watch all my own channels like vlogs and other content videos and another account only for studying. I don't subscribe to any other channels beside the channels that help me with my studies in this account. I've noticed that I get a lot less distracted because your recommendations would only be study related or the content related!

Write them down

When you're studying and you noticed that you're getting a lot of distractions. Take a paper and write down the distractions with the timings and then continue studying.

Distractions - Time

Phone - 20 min (specify time: 8:20-40)

By this, you can analyse what's distracting you more than the others and you can actually calculate your study hours better and help yourself improve it.

Reduce everything by 5 mins

It's okay to get distracted. Everyone gets distracted and the best way to decrease your distractions is to decrease them by 5 mins for some days and then keep decreasing them gradually. It's the best way to work honestly because it helps you remove the distractions over time as a habit.

Complete your chores before sitting down

You might know that whenever you sit down with a firm motivation to study and then you take your notes, books, materia etc and a voice from the kitchen comes saying"You haven't finished the dishes!" So, now you go to do the dishes and then another chore pops up when you sit to study and another and another. So, here's my advice, either you complete all your chores before you study or you complete them after or you could complete them during breaks. But make sure you're not distracted by them.

Turn daydreaming into a weapon

Personally, this is something i really really struggled with, like whenever I sit down to study, I ended up daydreaming about a certain book or plot. It would definitely not help me study so recently, I started assigning fictional characters to subjects and personally, like, gosh my economics was alittle more interesting when I was "teaching" it to Cardan Greenbriar (tfota). It's kinda childish to have like an imaginary friend or such but it certainly helps with boring subjects. Imagine scenarios or do anything with your imagination as long as you're studying the content. It helps you remember important points even though it may be absurd.

Q and A sessions

From time to time, get in the habit of quizzing yourself, I do it after every topic i complete. I'll ask questions which are not in the book, I'll twist the questions just like in the tests. This means that you have to stay focused if you truly want to answer the questions or even form the questions. You can even do it with a friend/study buddies!

Tennis method

This method is really useful and i kinda made it up. You hold your hands up in the air facing towards each other. Now, after you completed a topic, you "throw" your first point from one hand to another and the other hand should "throw" back the second point and so on until you're completely done with it. If you can't "throw" a point back in less than a minute, you need to revise more. Personally, I love doing this because I'm focused on answering and it's actually kinda fun "throwing" points like balls, even though it may look crazy to any outsiders xD (You can use this for maths for formulae, vocabs etc!)

Hope this helps! :D

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acourtofthought · 1 month ago

Note

Hello! Recently I've been watching a lot of acotar discussions and as I'm from the Gwynriel and Elucien fandom I'd like to know your thoughts on it. I saw a girl on the other side of the fandom saying that canonically Amren had suggested that Elain leave the house and get some fresh air before Lucien. She also cites scenes in which Elain was present in the sunlight but was still depressed and that what really helped her to start to improve her condition was when Azriel said that she was a seer. I would really love to know your thoughts on this. And I also wanted to ask what you think about when Madja says that only a mate could say what Elain had and it is Azriel who says that she was a seer.

In canon, Elain's condition began improving after Lucien's arrival and after Lucien demanded they get her out of the house. Was she fully healed? Of course not. She's not even fully healed now but the change was noticeable (more on this below).

Amren did make the suggestion for both sisters but it was Lucien who began losing his temper because it seemed Nesta and Feyre weren't taking his suggestion seriously. It was Lucien's insistence that triggered Feyre to take action, not Amren's, and Amren seemed more focus on getting the sisters to help them rather than Elain's mental health.

Amren page 171:

Lucien page 252 (almost 100 pages later, he also wasn't present for Amren's comment) :

Only one of these scenarios shows true, targeted concern for Elain, very specific requests related to Elain (he even mentioned the sea and we later learn their estate in the human lands was by the sea). To the point that he was personally affected by Feyre and Nesta making light of his suggestion, indicating he knew how important it was to Elain's well being. And only one of these characters is Elain's mate who just truly met her for the first time yet he was able to achieve the desired outcome that a 15,000 being did not. That her own sisters didn't even think of.

Side note, if we're putting weight on the things Amren said then it should be also noted how she was the one who had to reprimand Az for not believing in Elain. And Madja even said there was nothing wrong with Elain, which is true. Elain's powers were a riddle to solve but they aren't something to fix. Not like her catatonic state was (a state we could say Az drew straws to avoid). Her specific words were:

"The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.”

Lucien barely had time to sit with Elain before Nesta pulled her rage act but even if he'd been with her longer, he wouldn't have found anything "amiss" outside of her sadness of what happened.

Her powers are simply powers, something she only had for a few weeks, they aren't a link to her soul. Az simply knew the name for them, as he would have known the name for anyone with those same powers, it doesn't mean he knows Elain as an individual.

Back to Elain's state, before Lucien's arrival in the HOW she was not eating, drinking or sleeping. She would not leave her room and she spent her days crying.

Within two days of Lucien's arrival she left her room for the first time though the sisters "couldn't figure out why". And she just happened to choose the room where Lucien just happened to be visiting though he was actually ordered not to after Elain just happened to begin having her visions for the first time.

(sounds like our Seer knew where her mate would be going!).

After Lucien demanded they get her outside, she began sleeping and drinking, two things she hadn't done before his suggestion. She also stopped crying all the time.

Again, that was after page 252 and beyond. Az claimed she was a Seer on page 334. And this is actually how that went:

Elain didn't even trust what Az was telling her, she had to confirm it with Mor. And after she confirmed it with Mor, Mor was the one who first fought for her vision while Az thought it was better to do nothing with it, choosing not to go after what she was seeing:

And it was Lucien who volunteered in Elain's place:

Az gave name to Elain's powers but it was Mor and Lucien who actually believed in her and what she was telling them. Elain did start baking after that but for someone who felt like nobody ever saw her, my guess is it was Mor and Lucien's confidence in the information she provided that made the difference, not Az labeling what her gift was then choosing to ignore the help she offered to the IC.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #morrigan acotar

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jensettermandu · 10 months ago

Text

-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙨-

1.5

previous - m.list - next

𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

wc; 18k+ (sorry, it's just this chapter, a lot of smut ig :/)

[Present]

Jennie groaned at the hands that were tugging on her hair as she kissed along the girl's inner thighs, taking in the scent of lotion that was lingering all over the vixen's skin. Her patience was running thin though with the impatient girl who kept whining and telling her to fuck her already. The more dirty words that Y/n spewed the more her cock pulsed with need, but it didn't make her hurry up.

"What're you doing?" Y/n murmured, getting pissed when Jennie pulled away fully from her. Her eyes trailed Jennie who was still in her sweats and shirt, the print of her dick was prominent as she didn't have anything else besides the sweats on. All that Y/n was left in were the soaked-through cheeky underwear. Lying exposed and waiting for Jennie to do what she asked for, each little thing had started to leave her mind, not caring about whose hands her fate was left in. It didn't matter what she did since it wasn't in her own hands.

With her eyes on what she needed, Jennie moved up, getting on top of Y/n and straddling her waist. "Taking full control." She simply answered and Y/n's head tilted back to see Jennie grab hold of the fairy lights. Before she had the time to ask or complain, Jennie yanked them off the headboard, the plug getting ripped out of the output all at the same time as they clattered.

"What the fuck?"

"You're not fooling anyone, they just collect dust."

Y/n was about to push herself up, but the air got knocked out of her when Jennie's palm landed against the clavicle right above her chest. She forced her back down and quickly grabbed hold of her wrists.

"Jennie–"

"Make it easy for me and stop struggling because I am not going to stop, Y/n."

"It will fucking hurt and bruise."

The complaints were for nothing, Jennie wasn't listening to her at all and Y/n was unable to move because the woman was straddling her and putting all her weight on her. She started to wrap them around her wrists after forcing them above her head.

"That's exactly what it's supposed to do, hurt, but you will be too fucked to notice it in a while."

It was making Y/n's heart rate spike up, she could never know what Jennie had on her mind, but that was all part of it. It made everything more enjoyable. The fact that at each turn was either heaven or hell, it didn't matter what it was because she always ended up in the middle after a while. Her eyes looked at Jennie, hissing at the tightness of the string and the lights digging into her skin. The older's eyes focused on tying it around her wrists, only shooting a glance at Y/n.

The woman got off of the tied-up girl after making sure she wouldn't be able to get out of the lights wrapped around her small wrists. She grabbed the rest of the string and moved over to the headboard where the girl had installed anti-shake because of how wobbly it was and the complaints from the neighbour of banging late at night. It had only started when Jennie began showing up more often at her place after Asher would leave for practice and tournaments, trusting Y/n to keep his home a home and not invite others.

"That's unnecessary," Y/n grumbled as her hands were forced to stay above her head, her fingers threaded into the sheets, trying her best to ease the numbing feeling in her fingers as Jennie had made them too tight. She should have known that the woman wouldn't care at all when she asked her to not leave any bruises. Jennie never cared about these things, she always had to do it her way to prove that she was in charge and that Y/n never had any true say in anything. When they parted ways, something was always bruised, either her hips, waist, wrists and at times throat because Jennie didn't seem to control her strength. At times it worked more as a turn-off than anything else because it left her dissociating because of the pain.

"Better than having a needy whore tugging, scratching and pulling on me because she can't go a minute without being stuffed by my cock." Y/n watched as Jennie's tongue poked out at the corner of her lips, toying with it as she looked at the girl she had gotten all tied up. That control it gave her surged right through her each vein before shooting to her cock. It gave her a higher sense of herself. Y/n was all for her to ruin.

No matter what, her gaze always made Y/n feel like prey. She could see by the look in Jennie's eyes what went through her head. How bad it was, and how much worse it was that she still stayed to watch it happen despite knowing what was going to happen. How she would regret it one day and it would be too late to go back to normal because this was her normal now.

Her palm planted beside her head as she sat beside her on the bed. Her eyes trailed into the eyes that always held something different. The way they got so empty at times, it was as if Y/n wasn't even in the same room as her. She loved how broken the girl was, how she had broken her because this wasn't the same person she met almost five months ago. This was the person she had made out of her. This was her broken star that would always shine in her eyes. It was almost close enough to make Jennie feel bad about what she had done to Y/n and her life. Y/n was so empty, she was just like Jennie, and Jennie couldn't help but want a person that was just like her.

"Show me your pretty tongue," Jennie coaxed, her other hand running over the girl's cleavage. The skin was warm, smooth and soft under her palm, she could feel the pounding of her heart when she brushed over the spot where it was resting. That spot where she didn't belong but still made herself comfortable.

Y/n swallowed before opening her mouth and showing off her tongue, the one that Jennie loved having in her mouth or working around her cock. Her hand reached her slim throat and she gently wrapped her hand around it. There was no going back. That had never been an option. Jennie has had her choking grip around Y/n's throat since they met and she was the only one she could rely on to breathe. She couldn't breathe without Jennie, she was the air Y/n needed, and would always die just to breathe.

Jennie leaned forward, her hair falling around them as her thumb caressed Y/n's pulse point, the veins throbbing under her fingers. She could feel them pound harder and faster the closer she got when she let her spit fall on the girl's tongue before she leaned over to her ear. She could feel the girl shiver in the hold that she had on her when her lips brushed her ears.

"Swallow."

It took no more and Y/n swallowed the warm spit Jennie had let fall into her mouth. It was all shooting even more heat to her clit as her bent knees touched and she tried to get some sort of friction at how uncomfortable it was to not have anything done about her arousal.

"I'm so wet for you." She whined.

Jennie was busy kissing along her ear which was making the girl squirm as she hummed into it before tugging with her teeth at the top.

"Do you want me to eat you out? To lick at your pussy until your legs are shaking?"

"Please."

The words were doing unimaginable things to the girl as she couldn't think straight from how overwhelming it was starting to get. Jennie pulled away and looked at the girl whose eyes were turning docile, begging her with just her eyes as she had a small frown. Y/n willingly became the lamb to Jennie's lion, doing everything just to be eaten up until there wasn't anything left of her, not even a single bone as Jennie was always greedy and took everything, leaving nothing for anyone else.

"I will, under one condition."

Her eyes eagerly watched the woman who reached for her wallet, waiting for whatever the condition would be. It made her stomach drop in the worst way possible. Those colourful pills were grey this time. That control she thought she would have when she first started to take these drugs was all gone. She knew she wouldn't deny it. Her brain was already suffering from how she had taken ecstasy a good five times in just two months. She had yet to recover from last month. Y/n had no control and it was eating at her, Jennie maybe had some control, but what truly had her in a chokehold were the drugs.

They controlled her life.

"Grey Maserati, we share one because they are dosed at 300 each."

"It will keep me up."

She tried to reason, but Jennie was already taking out one of the five pills in the small zip-lock bag. Nothing was stopping her, Y/n hadn't said no, but just thrown out a reason. She always threw reasons but had a hard time saying no, especially to Jennie, especially to drugs.

"To around 3 or 4 am since it's already 11, your friends are coming late."

The sound of the pill being broken in half shot to her ears and she looked down as Jennie put the two halves of one pill onto her heaving stomach before she reached for the bottled water on the bedside table. She didn't want it but she couldn't either say no as she watched Jennie take the grey pill into her mouth and wash it down with water. The older woman took the other pill that lay on Y/n's warm stomach and turned fully to the girl.

She couldn't figure out why she couldn't just say no. She wanted to say no, but the urge to say yes was stronger despite knowing the consequences. Her days were already filled with dread, with the doom of one of these days being the last because she couldn't say no. It was hard to say no to something that made her life bearable, to something that made it okay even if it was for five hours before it got worse than it was before she took them.

"Open up, I will make you feel even better, baby. Trust me, it's what you need." She reassured her and Y/n already knew how much better it would all feel. Her mouth opened, and the chemicals spread on her tongue as she waited for Jennie to give her the water too. Jennie loved it when they were both drowning in substances, it made everything so much easier in her life and she knew it was the same for the girl. It worked, it made everything work and feel better. The water spilled from the corners of her lips, the cold running down to the sheets and she swallowed with no turning back.

It felt hopeless in her world. It truly felt like there was no turning back no matter how much she would cry for the past to not take the turns it did. What she could do was try to cry for a better future, but it overwhelmed her. So the only option left was to live in the present and possibly not have a future.

She put the stuff back onto the bedside table and took the girl's hair tie, putting her hair up. Jennie wasted no more time as she got back to where she had been from the start, her hands running over Y/n's knees and making the girl spread her legs for her. It would kick in within a good 15 to 30 minutes and the arousal they both felt at the moment would increase and everything would feel much better.

The pain would be gone.

The agony, and despair.

The dread of tomorrow and the doom followed by what happened before what's to come.

It would all go away.

She was fixing her broken star, she was taking all the pain away by placing herself between her legs after removing her underwear, taking the pain away with the drugs, sex, and alcohol.

Jennie was fixing her selfishly, she was fixing Y/n for when she was there. Jennie was making sure that the girl would only be fixed when she was there, to live in the delusion that she would only feel good when Jennie was there. That when she wasn't there her life was painful and empty and that only Jennie filled those painful voids. It always worked because she would feel even worse tomorrow and Jennie wouldn't be there and the pain would be associated with her loneliness and not Jennie.

The two were addicted to it all.

Whatever mindless sex it was, it turned into a game.

Jennie held back the groan that wanted to push past her throat when her hard dick pressed against the mattress as she laid down on her stomach. She licked her lips, unable to control the way her hips bucked at the view of the pink and wet pussy in front of her, glistening with slickness.

Y/n closed her eyes, fingers gripping onto the sheets as she drowned in Jennie's lips softly kissing along her inner thighs. Her one leg was guided over Jennie's shoulder as she wrapped her arm around the other. Lips gently dragged along her skin, leaving them quivering in anticipation, teeth nipping and dragging over her. It was all there, slowly bringing her to the best place in her dark world. A small gasp followed at the slick tongue that licked up her folds, the firm and warm muscle dragging over her cunt.

Jennie drowned in the taste of the girl, something she had grown addicted to as she could eat her out for hours. She hummed and dipped her head once again, the tip of her tongue teasing around the clenching and leaking hole before she licked back up, gathering the wetness around the swollen clit she circled. It elicited a light moan from the girl who arched her back and tried to push her hips further into Jennie's face–to no avail.

She trailed her hand over the slim stomach that got sucked in at the touch, running back and caressing her thigh. Her tongue still working through her folds, teasing her clit. Lost all again. Jennie's lips wrapped around one of the lips, sucking on it gently–it was all making Y/n let out sighs, whines, whimpers, and moans. She was sensitive to Jennie's touch, so sensitive to it, that it always made her vocal, sounding like she was in bliss which she was. Her mouth continued to work languidly through the girl's aching cunt. The slickness slowly becoming a mess around her mouth and she loved every second of it.

"Jen, please."

"Tell me what you need, baby."

She mumbled, her lips brushing over the girl's skin and she looked up from between her legs. Y/n's chest heaved, her stomach sucked in and she lay at the perfect arch with her eyes on the ceiling. She planted kisses along her inner thighs, waiting for the response while nuzzling into the warm skin that was scented like flowers.

"I need you."

"Do you?" Jennie asked to make sure that she was all that Y/n needed.

Y/n hummed at those words, something between a whine and hum as she closed her eyes in anticipation, tugging on the restraints on her wrists. Jennie could feel her body tense up at the anticipation as she pulled into her.

It was all that Jennie wanted and needed to hear as she went right back, her tongue slowly dragging up once again, the thighs tensing around her. A breathy moan fell from Y/n's plump lips when Jennie wrapped her lips around her clit. Her tongue flicked at the bundle of sensitive nerves, her tongue skillfully working the girl whose breathing picked up in seconds. It wasn't hard to know what the girl liked, Jennie had taken her time to take notice of every reaction and knew what made her scream. She had learned the way Y/n's body functioned.

The vixen hummed, her back arching as she pushed herself more into Jennie's face, the way the warm and smooth tongue continued to flick at her clit in just the right direction was making her stomach tingle. Her wrists twisted, unable to open her eyes as she was buried deep in the pleasure. Jennie's messy eating of her cunt filled her ears as the woman between her legs was moaning herself. Her tongue lapped up the slickness, smearing it and flicking at her swollen clit like it was what would save her life.

"So good, it feels so good– your tongue is so fucking good."

Her hips stuttered, unsure of what to do as she was losing control of her body, Jennie harshly suckled, her face buried deep between Y/n's legs, trying to get impossibly closer. A whimper followed and Jennie pulled away, her nose rubbing against the swollen clit as her tongue worked to get more juices to get them up. It smeared on her chin, her tongue not stopping for a second as she came back up and pressed her tongue against the throbbing clit. Her hands gripped tightly onto Y/n's thighs, squeezing the flesh in them and pulling her harshly back down as her hips were lifting, fingertips digging into the girl's skin as Jennie got just as lost in it.

"I love your mouth."

"You taste so good, I want to live between your thighs," Jennie grumbled in between the strokes of her tongue, her lips coming right back and tightly wrapping around the bud. She tugged on it gently before flicking at it as fast as she could before slowing down. The thighs around her head were quivering more and more, each moan becoming louder and more beautiful than the other. Jennie's cock was throbbing as her body started to get warmer and her hips gently moved, slowly humping the mattress as she couldn't contain herself when eating Y/n's cunt out and listening to the sounds.

Her movements increased, Y/n's body running hot at the warmth of Jennie against her. Her body being held down by the woman as she was slowly losing control. It didn't matter where it was but Jennie always held her down. Y/n's breath hitched, and her eyes closed as the heat became stronger at how Jennie was fucking her using her mouth. It burned, it burned but in the best way possible as the cries were starting to fly out of her mouth unable to hold back.

"Oh my God, fuck–" Y/n's breath fell short, her body convulsing as the orgasm crept up on her. Her thighs shook around Jennie, her back arching, the woman making sure to hold her down as she looked up through her lashes at the dark-haired vixen who was assaulted by the intense orgasm. She pulled onto the restraints, her hands closing into fists as her vision flashed with white, her ears ringing, and any control of her voice was lost as the train of high-pitched moans came out from her parted lips together with Jennie's name.

She heaved, panting for air after not taking in any oxygen for what felt like a good minute but was a few long seconds. Her body didn't get to relax as Jennie wanted to hear her moan her name like that again and continued to abuse her clit with her tongue. Y/n's walls were pulsating, tears gathering in her eyes and spilling from the corners as she tried to find the words to tell her to stop as it was painfully and pleasurably coming right back before she could fully come down.

Her clit was in pain, her walls going through painful aftershocks and Jennie continued to flick at her. Her brain was unable to choose what to feel as her body felt overwhelmed, heating, heart pounding like bricks being dropped on her ribcage. Y/n tried to pull her hips away but she had nowhere to go as Jennie was holding onto her tightly. The whimpers that left Y/n's mouth drove her further, her heat pressing against the mattress while throwing Y/n off an edge she had no clue would come. This time Jennie's name left her in a cry of that line between heaven and hell, it wasn't as intense, but it was painful.

Jennie slowly stopped moving her tongue and kissed her abused bud, it was enough to make Y/n jolt and hum a whine. She moved down, licking up whatever she could as Y/n panted under her, feeling the legs continuously tensing up and relaxing.

"Too much," Y/n tiredly mumbled and the brunette finally pulled away, unable to do more than to use her words as she was held back in all ways. She was powerless and at Jennie's mercy.

Jennie groaned at how uncomfortably erect she was as she had been so for a good 30 minutes now. She had started to grow hard when Y/n had gotten back to the room. Her hand grabbed hold of her thick cock through the sweats, gently caressing it as she used the collar of her shirt and lifted it to wipe her chin and mouth from whatever was left glistening on her.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at Jennie who was already looking at her, Y/n's pupils were already blown and covering all of the grey, leaving them pitch black. It was like looking at someone in a trance, her eyes were drawing Jennie in. Jennie loved everything dead and messed up, especially if she got to further play with it.

Y/n pulled her legs further up and closed them to try and ease the aftershocks as her stomach was cramping. "It hurts." She complained and Jennie looked over the naked body in front of her before she looked at Y/n's flushed face. Her own body was already warm and she reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off, knowing that the E had managed to kick in just a good minute or two ago for her.

"Everything good comes with something bad," she mumbled and those words drilled themselves into their heads.

"Do you need anything?" Jennie asked as she got off the bed, tossing the shirt onto the chair and walking over to the window. She cracked it open slightly to let in fresh and cool air.

That soft cloud engulfed her body and she felt those feelings she always buried deep and suppressed in herself. The one she would force behind a door whose room was filled to the brim, everything desperately trying to push out but she desperately held it all back. Jennie wasn't supposed to feel, she had learned to be numb and wanted nothing more than to continue it. Although, the problem was that certain things had started to bring her warmth and she had started to long for it every time it went away because somehow she grew fond. Of Y/n.

That cloud of ecstasy formed around her body, hugging her until her body was clammy and each strand of her was standing and taking everything with so much intensity. It coaxed everything out of her and her eyes drifted away from the reflection of herself that she caught in the window where the dark city was illuminated by lights. She swallowed the lump.

"Remove them, it's hurting,"

"I can loosen them, but they are staying."

Y/n frowned, feeling her body drown into the mattress that was caressing her like feathers. The only thing ruining it was the restraints around her wrists. Jennie walked over to the bed and sat down beside her.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I said so," Jennie answered, her fingers running along Y/n's arms until she reached the lights wrapped around her wrists. She pushed her fingers under them and tugged, slowly loosening them around her and Y/n could feel the blood somewhat flowing back.

"Pretty, star." She whispered and leaned down, catching Y/n's soft lips with hers, melting into each other with sighs falling from their lips as their tongues met. It was so soft, it felt like heaven all over again, it felt good and Jennie opened her mouth further, swallowing Y/n whole who moaned into the kiss. She ran a hand over Y/n's body, exploring the skin that was like silk until she reached her chest and cupped a breast in her hand. Her fingers tugged at the pierced nipples, Y/n moaning and pushing her chest further into her as Jennie toyed around with her chest and nipples.

Their heads tilted, taking each other further in, Y/n sucking on Jennie's tongue, making the older groan and squeeze her breast in her hand. Y/n's whimpers were muffled by the way Jennie was pushing inside her mouth, the two unable to get enough of the softness and wetness that felt too good to be true. Jennie's fingers nimbly worked on Y/n's nipples, tugging on them, pinching and toying around.

She pulled away and looked Y/n in her eyes that were like diamonds, worth more, they were unobtainable stars and held all the life and emotions to them now. It would then all wash away and leave them lifeless again. She loved watching it happen, she was always there.

Jennie pulled away fully, her heart picking up once again into an unsteady rhythm and she grabbed the water, unscrewing it and taking a few sips as Y/n squirmed beside her. She then proceeded to slowly pour some into the younger one's mouth before placing it right back and standing up.

She couldn't wait much longer as she stripped out of the sweats she had on. Her bright red tip was leaking with precum, Y/n's eyes trained on the thick and long cock that always stretched her out in a painful way unless Jennie was nice enough to stretch her out beforehand with her fingers...It didn't seem to be the case as the brunette let her hair back down and got on the bed.

Y/n tried to twist and looked at the bedside table. "Jennie, the condom." She reminded her that she didn't have any protection.

"We don't need it."

Y/n closed her knees together and Jennie grabbed hold of them.

"We do."

"No, we don't and you know it. Whatever you're trying to do isn't going to help your dignity, baby." Jennie forced her knees apart and held her legs spread as Y/n tried to push her away. The struggle was minimal and the girl slowly got on top of her by forcing her to hold them open, now leaving her completely unable to even try and close her legs.

"Please, Jennie." Y/n pleaded, inhaling deeply as it left her in an even bigger conflict. What was happening was horrible enough, but all she wanted was to save a piece of her dignity and not let them get to a part that's that intimate, something she only let her boyfriend do. She exhaled with her eyes on the ceiling, unable to think clearly as the warm emotions were too strong, that forbidden thing winning over her each time.

"I can pull out."

"No."

Jennie ignored the girl as she kissed along her neck, her cock resting heavily against her cunt as she slowly moved her hips, her scalding dick getting covered in the slick. Her eyes closed as the pleasure felt too good to be allowed for a human to feel. Despite bringing out all those suppressed emotions, it cured her of everything and let her feel happy, it removed the pain. That serotonin and oxytocin was spreading through her whole body from top to bottom. She sighed and stopped, resting her face in the crook of Y/n's neck as she took calming breaths.

"It will be fine and feel better, you want me to fuck you don't you?"

"I do, but not without a condom."

"You don't trust me, do you?" She whispered into her neck, sighing again as her weight completely settled on Y/n and she snuggled closer. Gently wrapping her lips around Y/n's warm skin, sucking it before letting go and licking. "Do you trust me, Y/n?" She questioned, the question was genuine and not just about this as their bodies grew warmer together. A hot puff of breath fanned Y/n's neck who was going through a battle that was lost before it even got to start–all those no's she's always said, they were impossible to say when all those things got freed. She always caved into Jennie because the woman broke down every barrier she tried to put up.

"I do, but this has nothing to do with trust." She didn't know when Jennie forced her walls down, but she trusted the woman, but she had no clue if that was the right choice. She trusted her with certain things. She trusted Jennie with her dignity, her biggest secret, with her body, and she trusted her with her shame and self-hatred even if Jennie trampled all over her at times. The behaviour got excused in Y/n's head because the woman took her for the person that she is so the least she could do was take Jennie as she is.

"Let me, I want to feel you raw without anything in the way."

She started to pepper kisses along her skin, pushing herself up on her forearms. Jennie pulled away and looked up at the girl. Y/n's heart was picking up once again as she looked into Jennie's eyes that were gazing into hers with what she only got to see when the woman was fucked up on drugs. That was the only time she could see something in her eyes aside from all those negative emotions. There was something genuine in them, but she couldn't tell what exactly it was and she couldn't tell if she wanted to know either. It scared her, Jennie scared her when it came to certain things.

Jennie was scared of whatever that was.

Y/n's back arched, a gasp falling from her lips as she pulled onto the restraints, thighs tensing up around Jennie when the painful stretch came. Jennie removed her hand from between them as she had pushed her tip inside, her whole body shuddering at the feeling and she let out a muffled whine. It made her catch Y/n's parted lips, shoving her tongue into her mouth.

Her breaths turned ragged as she did her best to slowly fill the girl up and give her time to adjust this time. Y/n's walls were warm and slick, throbbing around her, greedily sucking her in. The cock slowly split her open and pushed further. Jennie's mouth trailed off, kissing along her cheek and jawline, pulling out before pushing in once again, doing her best to not ram her whole cock inside the tight walls right away. The vixen's sopping pussy snugly gripped onto her dick, clasping around her and clenching.

Y/n's chest heaved, picking up as she fell to the deepest pits of pleasure and pain. Jennie's warmth right on top of her and inside her, feeling her deeper and deeper with each slow thrust. The girl was able to feel each detail, the moment driving her further into despair of what would be after. However, it clouded her mind the way Jennie was moving her hips in fluid motions, inching deeper and deeper with each thrust and being able to feel the throbbing of her vein and the way her tip was curved and rubbed perfectly against her g-spot.

"You're taking me so well, like a good girl, no matter how many times I fuck your tight little pussy you're still so tight, baby." She mumbled, her head dropping into the crook of Y/n's neck when she filled her to the brim. She hummed at the feeling of nothing being between them, having her leaking member stuffed in Y/n's pussy, feeling everything so much better.

"Jennie–" Y/n whined and the latter moved her head up, slowly rolling her hips. She fell short of breath at the feeling of Jennie's dick raw in her cunt. Able to feel every little texture of her cock, from the vein to the pulsating of her tip, how it dragged against her walls and she tugged onto the restraints, whining. Jennie was so deep that it hurt in a way she was used to and found pleasure in now, touching those sensitive spots deep within her and fucking until her stomach hurt. Jennie knew how to make her feel many things.

"What is it, baby?"

"Take them off, please, I want to hold you, please."

By the way Y/n's breathing picked up she could tell that she was losing her patience and the frustrations were flooding in. She clenched her jaw as she reached her hand up, still rolling her hips against the girls, each thrust deep and hard. With some struggling, they loosened and Y/n managed to slip her wrists out. What Jennie thought would be the girl pushing her away was Y/n wrapping her arms under her arms with nails digging into her back.

"It feels so good, fuck your cock feels so good, Jennie...I love it, I love how you fuck me."

It was enough to shoot it all to the woman's cock, making it twitch with some of the words. Jennie's jaw clasped and she balled up the sheets in her fists. Another gasp escaped Y/n's mouth when the thrusts turned rough, Jennie wanted nothing more than to ruin the girl as she slammed her cock inside her, pistoning in and out of her squelching pussy. It felt like she had gotten enough adjusting. The vixen's moans were fueling the frenzy that she had fallen into, breath ragged and the bed and Y/n squeaked with each harsh thrust.

Those low and carnal-like guttural moans and groans came right from between Jennie's lips. "Tell me how good it feels, fucking tell me, Y/n. Say it all because I fucking own you and your pussy. Only I can make you feel these things." Her harsh words were spoken by the whimpering girl's ear, Jennie getting lost between the pain of nails painting her skin red and soft, velvety walls clenching around her, suffocating her cock in the best kind of way. There was no other place she would rather be, no other person to be with, no other girl to fuck.

"It hurts, but it hurts so good,"

Her pelvic bone slapped against Y/n's skin and she reached her hand down, grabbing hold of her thigh and making her wrap it around her waist. She fucked deeper into her, fucking deep enough to let Y/n feel her where she never thought she would feel anyone. Her lips found her neck, not caring what the girl wanted as she sucked on the damp skin, licking and biting. The younger girl was unable to register any of it as she was being nailed to the mattress, her teeth digging into Jennie's shoulder at how it was all coming over her.

The bed found itself squeaking more for mercy, Y/n whining at how her whole body moved with each thrust. It hurt, but the incoming orgasm was washing it away and her brain had a hard time registering what to focus on. Jennie's thick length was spreading her, each thrust only making the mess bigger, leaving the vixen's thighs to tremble and hips to push into the older for more. It was too much yet too difficult to push her away when she felt Jennie's tip hit deep within her, the wet slapping got louder and hurt as it left them both sore.

Jennie's moans turned more breathy the longer she pounded into Y/n, trying her best to keep herself from busting already. The exhaustion was taken in rather quickly yet she continued to push to make the feeling last longer.

Her whole body tensed up with each thrust, twisting the sheets in her hands with veins bulging as she pulled away to look at Y/n. The girl's face was twisted into something that made Jennie groan at how her head was thrown back, chest pushing into her as it moved with each thrust. Lips parted, spilling those erotic moans that drove Jennie more carnal, sweat covering them both. Y/n could feel the muscles flex under her palms with each of Jennie's movements, nails only further digging into the woman's back for grip.

"I'm so close–" Y/n breathed out, the rest of the words getting stuck in her throat as she couldn't control the moans. The lewd sounds of their conjoined heat, moaning, and skin slapping were all bouncing off the walls.

"Can you feel how my cock stretches you? Feel how deep inside you I am baby, I could fucking knock you up right away, have you take all my cum, my babies, make you a mommy the way you call me daddy, hm? "Jennie grabbed hold of Y/n's forearm, pulling away the hand from her back that was stinging as the sweat that covered her body got in the fresh scratch marks. She grabbed hold of the top of her hand and guided it between their bodies as she looked up at the girl whose eyes were hooded, barely kept open.

"Fuck." Y/n exclaimed at the pressure Jennie put on her lower stomach using her hand as she held hers above Y/n's, the cock deep in her hitting her g-spot much better when she pressed down. Each deep thrust into her she could feel her stomach bulge out because of the deep penetration that Jennie provided with her length. Y/n was slowly at the edge and ready to fall off and Jennie could tell that she was right there from how the moans turned into whiny almost cries.

The girl's body convulsed and Jennie looked down at her as she threw her head back, her back arching and she could feel how much her pussy was thudding around her cock. The tight cunt clasped even tighter around her as Y/n cried out a moan, making Jennie groan into the air. Nails dug even deeper into her back and both her thighs shook around the woman.

She let go of Y/n's hand and reached further down, finding the swollen clit with ease and quickly rubbed circles to give her a better orgasm. The moans turned to whiny ones, sounding so light and erotic that Jennie's balls tightened and her erect member hardened more, ready to spill all of her cum.

Y/n's ears were muffled, and her vision went white as she got lost with no control over her body once again. The warmth was so strong that it felt like her body would melt from how good it felt, being ten times more intense than the other two. Her body was flying from the euphoria. Jennie flexed her stomach, ignoring the banging coming from the neighbour as she could only focus on the girl who was making her heart pick up at how close she was, with her breathing becoming harsh and deep.

As the moans died down she slowed down her pace and only stopped fully once Y/n was whimpering in discomfort under her. She did her best and pulled out right on time as she sat back on her heels. Her lips parted as her moans fell soundless, one stroke and her dick spurted cum all over the pink and sticky pussy where her eyes were trained with her hips stuttering into her hand. Jennie's whole body heaved with each breath, covered in a sheen of sweat, leaving her clammy and exhausted.

"Oh fuck–" This time a whimper fell from her lips, shooting more cum than she expected, her dick throbbing in her hand until the only thing happening was the cum that was left was oozing out of her tip.

Jennie slumped back, her dick growing limp, trying her best to figure out what she was feeling as the emotions felt almost foreign and they always did with the vixen–making her feel things she never did with anyone else.

The only sounds were their heavy breaths, the one more thud from the other side of the wall and something along the lines of 'shut the fuck up' before it was just them. She took Y/n's hand and helped her up when the girl started to push herself up. Wordlessly she grabbed the girl's shirt that was still on the bed and quickly wiped off her cum from her before throwing the shirt to the side.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

Jennie mumbled as she sat back and pulled Y/n to her, pulling her legs over her own as hers were spread out. She let go of her thighs and reached out to cup her face, her thumb caressing her skin as she pulled her in. "You're beautiful," the woman whispered and kissed her lips. Y/n's hands found their way to Jennie's neck, palms running over her skin that was scorching under her palms. The two took in the feeling that was like brushing feathers gently over their bodies as they without any particular lust soothed each other's bodies and lips.

That rough world, the lust, and those carnal desires disappeared and all that was left was the longing for something deeper. Something that could soothe the pain that lingered on their sore bodies. It was enough to forgive and forget without any words, not caring about any mistakes when they came with this after. It soothed, it got rid of the loneliness they both shared, that emptiness deep within them that they filled with this and hatred.

They pulled away, and Jennie ran her thumb over Y/n's eyebrow, trailing her thumb over her nose, their faces still mere inches away. They gazed into each other's euphoric eyes, stars sparkling, eyes black as massive black holes, sucking each other in. Her thumb ran down further to her plump and pink lips that felt like pillows. Jennie let go of her face and grabbed hold of the hands on the sides of her neck.

"I just want to hold you." She mumbled as there was no stronger desire in her than holding the girl close to her for hours on end. To hold her and keep her right beside herself. She wanted nothing more than to be affectionate with the girl and not just fuck her. Sex wasn't on her mind anymore as she gently kissed the red wrists, soothing them as she gently rubbed them with her thumbs. That desire to make her feel safe because Jennie knew that even if she hurt her, she could make her feel safe, she could make her feel warmth and content. That was all she wanted to do for Y/n even if it was for the night. To make up for the cold ones she wasn't there.

Y/n watched, basking in the feeling as the affection felt overwhelmingly good, not wanting more than for Jennie to leave soft kisses all over her body and hug her. Nothing felt better than when she was high with Jennie. When she was with Jennie in general. Because even if she made her feel the best but also the worst type of things; made her cry, break down and want to die as that felt like the only way out, at least she made her feel. She made her feel that high before it all came crashing down and she couldn't leave it alone because, despite all the bad, only Jennie could bring her back up to that euphoric high without any drugs.

The older left those kisses that she wanted, kissing her wrists softly, in a way no one else ever had even if they needed or didn't need to be soothed. It warmed her from the inside out.

Jennie had all the control because Y/n was addicted to the highs she brought her before she took them away. It left her waiting, anticipating for the woman to give her them again, each time coming to a high before then crashing back down and going through an unbearable comedown. The loneliest she felt was when she was coming down, that was when she needed Jennie the most. It was worse than drugs. Whatever Jennie did and gave her felt better than drugs but tore her apart in the long run much worse than any substance. The vixen couldn't stop chasing after the rush the brunette was able to provide though.

It was an intensity that they both always craved, too far gone in the toxicity of each other to part ways. It had burned their skin and damaged it too much to be able to go back to normal if the scars were to stay forever. It had left them both so ugly together. The longer they stayed the more lost they got and the worse it became and they knew it. They knew how bad it was as they brought out the worst in each other. However, whenever they looked at it; at the ugly in one another, they both just found it more beautiful and addicting every time.

Their flaws felt flawless.

It was a rush that they were addicted to. The constant feelings of being on the edge before falling off and then climbing back up to the edge and waiting for the fall to come again even if it was painful. It was a game of bringing each other up before bringing each other down again.

Y/n hated Jennie because of the control that she had and only let Y/n touch the control now and then. It left the vixen deluded into thinking that she had some sort of control when most of the time it was Jennie.

[Three weeks ago]

"It was so weird," Lisa mumbled and Y/n hummed confused at those words as she handed the lit joint over to her friend. She blinked her eyes off the dryness and reached for the iced tea on the coffee table.

"What was?" The vixen knew that Lisa always had something weird on her mind after smoking, but she couldn't know what it would be this time. She had come over an hour ago and not empty-handed. At this point, if the girl tried to stay away from pills and powders, weed seemed to get her mind off of those things, but barely as she still found herself craving for it more than for food when starving. It felt like she would die if she didn't get a dose. It was itching.

Y/n glanced at her phone when it went off, seeing that it was Ash saying he had arrived–visiting his mother for the weekend. She'd reply later. Y/n's excuse was not feeling good and deciding it would be better to stay. The real excuse would be that she would feel ashamed to see his parents in the state that she was in, she would feel ashamed if she was high around them. Even more ashamed to look them in the eye all while knowing that she was cheating on their son.

At least they had talked it all out after the Summerfest ended and she still felt the relief of knowing that he didn't break up with her but still loved her. That they would fix what wasn't working out and it was all back to normal. They were, but not Y/n.

She felt stuck in a place of hopelessness, and dread, and without the will to live anymore.

"You were weird– you're just being weird in general. Are you okay?"

It made Y/n chuckle as she put her drink back down, but her body language said it all as she pulled her feet up on the couch and her knees to her chest. She closed herself off visibly as Lisa's eyes gazed over her with her eyelids a bit swollen. In the end, she managed to catch Y/n's bloodshot ones. The girl still smiled, there was so much in that smile, not behind it, it was all in the smile as it was a smile that showed how at peace she was with her life crumbling, how she would smile through it and not do anything about it.

"What do you mean are you okay?" Yet she wouldn't admit that she was in agonising pain and that only Jennie fixed her for a few hours before she was left sobbing in the shower. Her tears were like tears in the rain to everyone because she wouldn't cry in front of them anymore. She was too scared to show that she was weak, she couldn't do it anymore, especially not after seeing what someone could do with her weakness. What Jennie did with it.

"It was maybe weirdly formulated–" Lisa started and Y/n agreed as she nodded, taking the joint that got handed to her. This time she took a bigger drag, letting the gasoline taste fill her lungs to the brim before letting out a cloud into the air that was dim from the smoke that wasn't making it out. "What I mean is...You and Ash seem off, were at least, the whole deal with staying at another hotel room." If it was anyone else Y/n would have snapped, this wasn't Lisa's relationship, but Lisa was her best friend and she listened to her. She let her point these things out because she knew that Lisa cared as her best friend.

Yet this type of care wasn't enough anymore because she couldn't feel the content of someone caring about her. It was void.

"That's that, but you're just down and don't lie because I know that you have been lying for a while now."

"Everyone is down now and then...Me and Ash have worked it all out now." She shrugged out and took another hit from the joint before reaching over to the ashtray to ash it. She sat back and Lisa heaved a sigh in the smoke-filled living room. Her best friend moved along the couch, crawling over to the girl before sitting face-to-face with Y/n. "You've been down for longer than usual, I'm just worried and want you to know that we can talk. We're always here for each other, babe." Lisa pressed and Y/n groaned, throwing her head back against the backrest.

She stared at the ceiling, blinking away the tears in her red eyes, swallowing the sticky lump, and reached the joint to her lips, taking another hit before passing it to Lisa who had her elbow resting against the backrest with her head propped up on her palm.

"I know and you too should know that I would talk to you if it was really necessary, but I am handling it. Just a lot going on with school, work, and a relationship." It was all lies, the handling part because she was coping with it all using drugs and meaningless sex with a woman she was cheating with on her boyfriend. She was handling it by ruining herself even more than she already had. That self-destruction had always worked until it no longer did. It was just a step away from it being her last.

"I feel like I am losing my mind here." Y/n pushed herself up at that and took the joint away from Lisa as they had smoked quite a bit by now. "You're greening out." She seriously said, taking the joint for herself as she didn't need a paranoid Lisa under her care once again.

"Since when is your tolerance so high–" She grumbled and reached over for the bottle of iced tea before leaning back and resting her head on Y/n's shoulder. The TV was playing in the background, but they had been so lost in each other that they hadn't been able to catch the noise from it. Y/n knew her tolerance had rocketed after nearly smoking every day now. The same went with everything else as her nose had gone runny and red, if not bleeding at times.

"Would you suck dick for a career?" Y/n giggled at the question while leaning her head against Lisa's with the joint still burning. Her other hand played around with the bic that she used to even it out.

"No? I don't know."

"I would."

"For real?" Lisa hummed at that. "I know how it sounds, but it's one blowjob for whatever career you want and then you live your life...It's like making a wish except–"

"The genie is in a dick you have to rub instead of bottle." The words that came out of Y/n's mouth made the already giggly Lisa fall into a fit of laughter. Y/n rolled her eyes and this time she reached for her phone in an instant when it buzzed, seeing that it was a message that was private and only one person's messages were on her phone.

It was stupid, but it was a long and boring Sunday and Asher had left in the morning to take the flight to San Francisco. She had texted the woman a few hours ago, but without a reply back and she called Lisa knowing the girl had no work today. The vixen had forgotten the message she sent about two hours ago and hadn't said anything else.

3:22 P.M. im all alone

5:30 P.M. Comin over, just landed Be there in ten

Y/n looked at her best friend who had calmed down and was high as a kite. She'd feel bad if she were to throw her out without a reason, but she hadn't seen Jennie in two weeks. The last time they had been together was on Y/n's last day of the Summerfest and Jennie had flown out to Vegas after for something. She tried to get the girl to come with her but the idea was ridiculous for so many reasons. The biggest wasn't even what she would say to everyone, but travelling and spending even more time with Jennie.

She couldn't deny that she enjoyed the life Jennie brought to her.

She couldn't either deny that besides herself still crumbling with each passing day, her relationship with Asher looked much better after not seeing Jennie.

It did come with constant texts from Jennie–Y/n had assumed she wouldn't even think about her since she tended to not think too much about Jennie. Every time she thought she had forgotten her, the brunette came right back to remind her of who she was. Of what place she now held in her life, the control she seemed to have even when she wasn't there.

Jennie was demanding; Y/n was somehow still obeying, being a willing victim of Jennie, of her power and control.

Despite the pain and regret, Y/n couldn't stop, they had become her best friends.

Lisa was long gone after an excuse of being called in for a replacement shift at work.

The pain and regret went away with Jennie though, the feline replaced them as she had everything she needed. She was able to replace her best friends, pain and regret.

They had barely managed to start a conversation before Y/n was on her knees as Jennie sat on the couch with the girl between her legs. She released a deep sigh, relaxing on the couch at the mouth working her length. It was hard to say how good it felt to have her dick in Y/n's mouth, the way she would suck on her tip, swirl her tongue, and take her into her throat. The teasing of her tongue, the build-up and the release that made her toes curl and her body convulse, each time losing her vision. Her hand playing with her heavy balls, if not taking them into her mouth. Jennie hadn't gotten to experience such care before and she had realised that she had been looking for love in the wrong places.

Whatever love even was, it held different meanings for everyone.

Pleasure was what she loved.

Y/n only glanced up at the woman who was busy making white lines on her phone using a black card. It was hard not to notice the bruises on her knuckles, the scratches and marks on her neck. It made Y/n work twice as hard. She closed her eyes, stroking down Jennie's cock before moving down and engulfing more in her mouth. Her tongue was flat against the underside and she trailed the pulsating vein as she hollowed her cheeks, moving back up with such suction that Jennie groaned, thighs trembling.

"Fuck–" She breathed out, looking down at the girl whose hair was falling in front of her face as she slurp and sucked around the throbbing hard cock. "I've missed you–this, I've missed this." Y/n hummed and pulled away fully to get a proper breath. Jennie stopped herself from looking back at the coke on her phone and watched the girl guide her mushroom tip over her plump, pillow-like lips that were pink and perfectly wrapped around her every time.

"Say that to every girl back home?"

"What?" Jennie breathed out as Y/n only shrugged and opened her mouth, looking up at Jennie through her lashes. It made her lightheaded as she watched her stick her tongue out and slap the swollen and pinkish tip against her tongue. Y/n wrapped her lips around it, pressing her tongue against the slit, caressing it and pulling back out, looking Jennie right in the eye. The woman always went into overdrive, speechless when she got to see Y/n on her knees with her cock in her mouth. Watching the girl slap it against her tongue again.

She dipped her head, taking Jennie back into her mouth, this time her other hand let go of the woman's thigh and reached inside her boxers. Jennie's chest was heaving, each breath becoming deeper and heavier as she did her best and took the rolled-up bill while Y/n played with her hard balls in one hand, her mouth wrapped around the tip.

She swirled her tip, looking up as she watched Jennie snort up a line. Her thighs clenched, she found the older woman hot in so many ways, but one thing she truly loved was the dominance she portrayed. The way Jennie was rough, but tender between the lines, there was something different about her touch. The way it all felt like kisses deep within her soul even if they bruised and hurt. Jennie cared.

Her hand worked along Jennie's length, this time a hand coming into her hair, fingers pressing into her scalp as Jennie groaned. "Come on, use your throat for me, baby." She encouraged, knowing that Y/n could do more.

The vixen hummed, slowly working her mouth down before coming back up. She could feel Jennie's eyes on her, the tip was throbbing on her tongue. It wasn't an easy task to get Jennie's whole length down her throat, but she still made it look effortless. It elicited a pathetic whimper from Jennie when Y/n loosened her throat muscles, moaning as she in one smooth motion engulfed the six inches deep in her throat. The feline's thighs trembled, her hand gripping for her life in the hair at the way Y/n's throat had her tip in a chokehold without gagging the slightest.

"Oh fuck," she could only breathe out when Y/n released her cock from the tight grip of her throat. It fueled Y/n on, wanting to be good for Jennie. It didn't end there as she repeated the motion without taking a breather, it made her eyes water the slightest. Jennie's hips buckled up as her feet planted hard against the floor, her hand moving through the dark locks, using both hands to do a makeshift ponytail. She gripped it in one hand, the hair removed from Y/n's face.

Now she was able to see the tears running down the girl's face whose eyes had been bloodshot ever since she entered. Spit covered her chin as it ran down further, her cleavage being in view because of the spaghetti strap top she had on with a push-up bra– it enhanced her small breasts. Jennie's whole length throbbed at the mess she was on her knees in front of her. There was something so hot about the girl in general, but especially in this position as Jennie thrust her hips into her relaxed throat because the vixen didn't resist. Y/n provided her with her throat, letting Jennie fuck it as she massaged her balls in her hand, playing with her hard and big balls.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm so fucking close now–god, you're such a fucking slut the way you suck cock. It's like you were born to do this." Jennie let out through her heavy breaths with her hips stuttering as she watched the younger girl who was getting her throat stuffed, the way Y/n's eyes rolled back, the lewd sounds of her slurping, spit creating a mess on her cock and Y/n's chin. The grip on her hair was tight as she continued to bob her head to match the thrust, taking Jennie into her throat, reaching her base, and tickling Jennie's stomach with her nose before being pulled back.

She felt the heavy balls tighten in her hold, she managed to slip out of Jennie's grip and pulled her mouth away unfortunate for Jennie. She didn't have time to complain when Y/n's hand quickly jerked at her cock, squeezing around her tip and her balls. It was the least Y/n could do to not have to swallow everything and get Jennie mad again. She knew better by now. Her body convulsed, making her bite down on her fist to stop the sounds that tried to push through the back of her throat. The cum spurted out from the slit on her tip, thick ropes of white and thick warm cum flew and Y/n leaned closer, closing her eyes and sticking her tongue out.

The dick that had been pulsating in her hold slowly grew soft and Y/n twisted her hand up one last time, making Jennie wince and slump back. Her eyes were on Y/n who had that white release on her face, taking it on her pink tongue too. The vixen winced but swallowed it down before she reached for the napkins on the table where the bag with weed was lying and the one with coke that Jennie had taken out.

"What happened to your hands?" Y/n finally managed to ask as she wasn't getting her throat abused by the woman who was always rough with her—in some instances, she wasn't, but Y/n didn't mind either as long as she got pleasure from the woman which she did get in many ways.

She couldn't help but wonder what it was that had happened. It was a curiosity that didn't want to go away no matter how hard she tried not to care, but she did for many reasons. She somehow felt the urge to want to know what went on in the billionaire's life and she didn't like this intruding urge. The girl wiped the still-warm cum off of herself, still cringing at how she swallowed it, but it felt like she had no other choice.

"Nothing."

Was all she got as a reply, looking up at Jennie who was fixing her pants, adjusting herself before zipping them up. She cleared her throat and looked down at Y/n who was already looking up at her, the woman's body covered by a sheen of sweat and her brown eyes black from her pupils that had grown from the coke, cheeks flushed and her heart pounding. One of the bruised hands reached down and she pulled Y/n up and into her lap.

"They're bruised, something did happen." Jennie hummed at that as Y/n was right since her knuckles were sore and bruised. Her hand ran down to Y/n's ass, gripping it through the sweatpants as she sniffled, her nose stuffy from the powder and she picked up her phone that she had placed on the couch. Y/n looked at the screen that was black with two more lines on it. She gestured with her head towards the rolled-up bill and Y/n picked it up without any complaints, she had trouble saying no when she knew that she should, but didn't want to.

Her eyes watched the girl who took a line like a pro, still looking as hot and perfect when doing drugs with her. She had started it slow, but now it was a constant when she saw the girl, they would get high because Jennie got high every day and she always made sure to leave stuff for Y/n. It was out of good heart because she knew the girl would need either coke or speed to get through a day now. Y/n was like a car now, only working when she was fueled, and Jennie made sure to fill her with all these things. It left Y/n coming to one person and one person only for fuel. Leaving her dependent on Jennie to be able to function.

"I got attacked by a girl's boyfriend because of a misunderstanding."

Y/n got her reply at last when she finished, the powder smoothly travelling through her nose, leaving a bitter taste after running down her throat and leaving her mouth numb, her face numb. Jennie took the rolled-up bill from the girl who frowned at the words. Her eyes scanned Jennie, looking for whatever answers she would probably never get because she had no clue who she was sitting with.

It was as if she knew Jennie, but then she did these things that Y/n tried to push away and separate from the Jennie she wanted to know and not the Jennie that she was. She painted those red colours green whenever they came to light, it made it easier to deal with. It made it easier to stay.

"Mhm, for fucking her too good?"

She was used to the model of a girl's attitude, she liked it, she also loved putting the girl in her place which was almost an impossible task. The question did catch her off guard because the girl had never really said anything like that before, if so she had encouraged her to walk out and fuck someone else. Which Jennie did at times, but some problems had started to happen in her sex life. Jennie felt embarrassed and humiliated, it had all brought her to a new low in her life and she had no clue what to do about it. It was too much to look for help because it had already hurt her ego.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Despite it all, Jennie played it off the way she had always done in her relationships even if she wasn't in one with Y/n. It just kicked in from how close they were and this was someone she wanted to keep around. She placed the things aside and snivelled, wiping her nose as her heart was beating in an unsteady rhythm, her body warm and sweaty, the dangerous emotions spiking tenfold, making her a much easier fuse to ignite because she was filled with fuel.

"The scratch marks on your neck and the one on your cheek. Sure had fun tussling in bed didn't you? Until her boyfriend caught you two." Y/n reached her hand up to Jennie's face as there was one red streak on her cheek as if a cat had scratched at her face. The blood was dry and the wound was healing. She hadn't cared when they first started to fool around and she started going behind her boyfriend's back. Jennie would have some sort of marks all the time–albeit less now or none at all most of the time–but they felt like a big fuck you to Y/n's face now.

Her thumb brushed along the mark on her cheek before she glanced down at the ones on her neck. It felt stupid to leave any marks of her own if they would only get mixed up with the other ones. Did Jennie fuck every girl the same way she did with Y/n? Did she put the same effort into every girl she ran across? Was Y/n just another fuck with no distinctive difference? Was she just another one of her girls?

It felt degrading. It didn't feel right to be feeling this way, but it didn't feel right to know that Jennie was possibly treating Y/n like one of her other girls.

"I'm telling you the fucking truth, aren't I?" Jennie snarled and yanked Y/n's hand away from her face, her eyes hard at the accusations thrown at her. It didn't make Y/n falter or apologise for asking more questions even if Jennie insisted on telling her the truth. However, it was the truth to something Y/n hadn't been asking her about. She wanted to know if she was just another girl she fucked in the city.

"But you were in bed with her," Y/n stated as a matter of fact, slowly feeling her pulse go up from the cocaine coursing through her bloodstream. Her mind was brought to a different euphoria although it didn't push away these other things, it enhanced them. It made everything worse.

"So what if I was?"

She gazed into Y/n's eyes, waiting for the girl to give up the fight she was starting and apologising for starting it in the first place.

"I'm just fucking asking."

Y/n had snapped at last because of the answer she got and felt anger shoot right through her as she yanked Jennie's hands away from her body. She proceeded to get out of her lap and stand up. The woman was irking her now, not just the woman, the state she had come in made everything crawl over her the second Jennie entered.

Y/n knew that they weren't together and that she had a boyfriend, but she didn't like being part of a cycle that probably consisted of a hundred other girls that Jennie wet her dick in. It was even more disgusting and annoying when Jennie saw her almost every week. It made Y/n feel used and dirty, like just a toy for Jennie to release into and feed her ego for the day, knowing she was fucking someone hot.

"Don't fucking raise your voice at me and—" Jennie got cut off when the door to Y/n's bedroom slammed closed and Jennie hadn't even been able to finish her sentence. It spiked her anger ten times more as she shot up from the couch because the disrespect was getting hard to handle. She wanted to get her point across, make Y/n realise and say that Jennie could fuck whoever she wanted to when she was away while Y/n would patiently wait for her like her doll. That she wouldn't try anyone else aside from Jennie unless she wanted to end up hurt.

Y/n's attitude was one that Jennie wanted to handle and be able to tame, but it always made her threads snap and she always exploded. Her fists were already clenching in anger as her tongue had all types of profanities ready to be screamed at her.

She tried to open the door– "fucking open before I break it down, Y/n," she gritted out. Unable to contain the anger going through her veins, overweighting the cocaine that probably made it worse using the side of her clenched fist she hit it. It made the door shake, but it didn't make Y/n open nor did it make her reply.

"I told you to open it!"

"Y/n!"

It made Jennie bang at it harder and once again before doing it again and again until her chest started to heavy in more anger. She felt unvalidated because the girl wasn't opening it. She wasn't reacting, but Jennie was and it only irked her more. Y/n was supposed to be crumbling under her and not sitting silently, silence was threatening to Jennie. She couldn't know what it meant and it only made her lose it more.

"Punch my door one more time you fucking junkie."

And Jennie did because the last thing she was going to do was listen to the girl or do as she said. There was no way that Jennie would take orders like these from someone else, she made sure to do it extra hard by kicking at it instead. The words that pointed out her addiction only added to a fire that was out of control, one that would be hard to get under control as she felt it all coming, it was a mistake to point out her denial.

The door got yanked open and Y/n looked at her door to see a dent from the kick.

"What is your problem!?"

"My problem is your fucking attitude!" Jennie screamed right back and blocked the door from getting closed in her face by blocking it with her forearm. She forced it open and pushed her way inside as she grabbed hold of Y/n's forearm, her grip was twisting the skin from how harsh it was, wincing pain coating Y/n's skin. The pain buried itself deep within her and she was slowly finding solace in Jennie's violence that felt like peace, that felt like kisses and love yet it stung.

She forced her onto the bed–the girl wasn't going to tower her in this scenario. Jennie would make sure she knew who was the one who called the shots. Show Y/n who was the one who was supposed to be respected. She'd go on and on until she would understand and be nothing but someone who got down on their knees for Jennie because she would realise how big Jennie was compared to who Y/n was. Y/n was no one compared to her in the end.

"No one is telling you to fucking stay and put up with it like some masochistic perv. You can busy yourself by leaving and fucking someone else."

"Don't fucking scream in my face."

Jennie pushed Y/n back down, the force echoing when her palm collided between her collarbones, a squeak coming from Y/n and she wasn't allowed to stand up. Jennie was stronger. Y/n would always be weaker, there were certain fights she would never win, but she would put up a fight for as long as possible even if it only dug her grave deeper.

Her finger pointed right in Y/n's face as she warned her. She towered the girl who had to lean back to look up at Jennie. Y/n heaved a sigh as she looked at Jennie with a scowl of anger and uncertainty about what to do. One thing she was certain about was that she didn't like Jennie's finger in her face. Another thing she knew was that it rang bells she couldn't pinpoint, but it evoked fear in her and it was nostalgic but she had no clue why. It was a blur, and her mind only dissociated in fear of what could happen. She didn't want to feel more pain of Jennie shouting at her and treating her with bruising kisses. It made it easier to forget after if she dissociated.

"Get your fucking finger out of my face." Y/n spat out.

"What're you going to do about it?" Jennie challenged her, not moving an inch. "You don't fucking tell me what I'm going to do, do you understand?" She continued, her finger still in Y/n's face who was starting to feel like she was being humiliated because of how Jennie was keeping her in this place. She did like it when someone kept her grounded, but she didn't like it when all her control was taken away. It was suffocating, it only scared her further, and it only pushed her into breaking down and begging to be allowed to breathe.

There was no meeting halfway between them though. No compromising as they were both stubborn.

"I'm not your fucking dog, so get your finger out of my face or just get the fuck out of my place altogether."

"Don't fucking try me, Y/n– you either understand or I fucking make you understand."

"Then fucking make me! What are you going to do? Fucking beat me up like the boyfriend!?" Y/n raised her voice and shoved the hand away from her face. The gesture ignited the fuel that had been added, the fire reaching the path that was filled with it. Jennie was twitching to do what Y/n asked her for. It was all so close, but she knew what happened when she went there, Jennie's bruises were still healing, and she still wanted to have Y/n. At this point, she couldn't tell if the girl would leave or stay if she took it there. It felt like she was so dependent that she would stay and Jennie was seconds away from testing her luck.

"I might fucking do it if you continue to test my patience with you, whore!" It sparked so much anger in Jennie when the girl wasn't listening. When she pushed Jennie away. When she continued to test unknown waters. She grabbed hold of her jaw and forced her back onto the bed before she even had the chance to try and get up. The struggle worked little when Jennie pinned her down on the bed. She took advantage she would always have of being stronger than Y/n physically, and mentally too. There were battles Y/n would never win and she only needed to learn which ones.

Jennie was willing to show her.

"Fucking do it, Jennie, I fucking dare you to do it. I want you to go through with your empty fucking threats for once." Y/n continued to add fuel to the fire they had both started a long time ago. The one that was out of control and they only seemed to make it bigger. She gripped onto Jennie's forearm, but her grip wasn't budging from her jaw and her weight was on top of her. It maybe would give her a reason to throw Jennie out of her life once and for all if she went through with those empty threats. At least she hoped it would. She was scared that Jennie would go through with it and it would register as love and care in Y/n's brain.

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Just do it or are you too much of a fucking pussy. All you do is talk and act big when you are nothing but a scared fucking cunt. Who do you think you're fooling?" Y/n hissed, the grip was getting harder on her jawline and she stared Jennie in the eye. The anger was swirling in both of their eyes, their hearts beating in a rhythm of what was a messed up march song for a war neither of them had the right to partake in. That Y/n dared to look her in the eye, that she did so in a challenging way was only making sparks fly and the sky was filled with dark grey clouds of toxic smoke. They were both inhaling it like drugs.

"I told you to be fucking quiet!"

"I told you to go through with your empty threats."

"Who do you think you are? You're just another fucking girl on my dick so know your place."

"Do it, you fucking bitch."

The throwing of words continued as they were screaming in each other's faces. Nothing they said made much sense anymore as the screaming had gotten out of control. They weren't even fighting about what it started with, but it had turned meaningless yet it meant the world to both of them to be right at the moment. To be in control. To win. To not know when to stop because they could only stop when the other gave up. It didn't matter if their throats were sore and their skin bleeding, leaving them dry from the words that continued to cut through their skin and leave scars for them to admire later on.

"Listen to what I am telling you, Y/n, listen to me you low life of a fucking bitch that I spit on!" She bellowed, the patience was gone now. "Fucking whore that spreads her legs every occasion and would fuck anyone with a status because you're worth nothing." Jennie's voice was a harsh rasp, her grip only tightening as her other fist clenched and she had no clue what to do with it. It was itching, it was moving, it was rising and it was falling, fighting an internal battle for the girl while also fighting with her. It was overwhelming Jennie, but she had yet to get her point across.

"You're nothing but an entitled and coke-addicted junkie–"

It finally happened and Y/n flinched, closing her eyes and looking away as her whole body tensed up. She didn't know what to do or how to react when Jennie–didn't punch her–punched the mattress right beside her head. It was so close to her face that she felt the wind of it, that she could feel it by her ear. It made the fear wash over her and Jennie felt the grip loosen on her forearm. Y/n shaking under her, trembling and barely breathing. She had been scared the second Jennie pinned her down because she knew that she had no chance against the woman when it came to strength and at some point, she would have to give in.

Whatever that unsteady rhythm was, it turned into one that was heavy and her throat closed up, that lump killing her. She knew that she had been pushing her buttons, but Jennie had been terrible towards her. Jennie was always terrible towards her. She put up with it because the billionaire was amazing towards her just as much as she wasn't. Jennie maybe left Y/n trembling in fear, feeling sick from it as it built up and she could throw up from how weak and scared Jennie truly made her feel. It was as if her limbs gave up, knowing they would never win.

Jennie felt her heart drop as Y/n didn't pull away or fight back but only used her forearm to cover her eyes. The older had a hard time understanding it as everyone always pulled up a fight, they always continued after, but Y/n just collapsed right under her. It scared Jennie. Why couldn't Y/n put up a fight, be more than just prey, and make Jennie look less horrible? Why was Y/n shaking instead of shouting, and trying to fight Jennie back with more than words? The vixen wasn't leaving any marks on her.

Jennie could still catch the way her lips trembled, the girl taking in a shaky breath. "Let go of me," that was a tone she never wanted to hear from the girl. That was a tone she had never heard from anyone. She sounded scared, terrified even, she sounded broken in a way Jennie didn't want her broken, in a way that would make her leave. It was an actual docile plea for mercy. It didn't make Jennie feel in power, it made Jennie widen her eyes and watch how their world crumbled right underneath them.

"Y/n..." Her tone faltered and she let go of the girl's jaw.

"Please just–" Y/n couldn't finish it as she felt stupid enough already and didn't want her voice to tremble in front of Jennie. It felt like the woman would use it against her. Whatever weakness she would show would make Jennie trample her even more. Scared Jennie would hurt her even more if she started to sob.

The weight on top of her disappeared and Y/n turned to her side as she curled up into herself to try and understand what had happened. She had hoped they had been empty threats. She didn't want to believe that Jennie could be this bad person when she made her feel so good too. It didn't make sense that someone who made her feel so good, could make her feel so scared, it left her conflicted about figuring out what Jennie was. If she was good or bad, or maybe both. She had no clue what to do if she were to figure it out.

For the first time in ages, Jennie's numb self from the drugs, the death that she was inside out, disappeared. The drugs not being enough to numb her, she wasn't able to numb herself the way she did with everyone else. The way she didn't care about anyone else, but herself ever since she got a taste of her new life. She felt the lump in her throat as she nervously rubbed her palms against her thighs while sitting on the bed beside Y/n. She did her best to put all her anger aside which was always hard, but the other emotions were overwhelming and made it easier. Y/n made it easier, the thought of her walking out made it easy.

"I–Y/n..." Jennie started and reached out for the girl who blanched at her touch. She could hear the sniffling and suppressed sobs as she had her face buried in one of the pillows. Y/n's body shaking from how she tried to keep it in. Her jaw trembled as she opened her mouth to come up with words, but she looked away from Y/n and at the door.

Would it be better to run away or stay? Jennie had no clue how to deal with these things, with the consequences of her actions. Her sweaty palms continued to rub against her thighs, taking deep breaths while trying to think, trying to calm down and not get more scared than she already felt.

"I didn't mean to scare you like this. I swear, it's—it's from the coke, it makes me angrier than I am...I would never hurt you, I mean—" Jennie tried to find the words, tried her best to find a good enough excuse for this as she was going out of her way for the girl. Jennie was trying her best to find an excuse that would work, not an apology, but an excuse. She couldn't apologise for things she didn't control, could she?

She moved off the bed and quickly walked to the other side with her knees shaky. She kneeled on the floor and reached for Y/n's hand who tried to pull away, but Jennie couldn't stop her stubbornness. She still wanted Y/n to listen to her and she held onto her hand with her both.

"Please, I didn't mean that. I would never hurt you, you know that because...I didn't hit you or hurt you." In the end, Jennie could have beaten Y/n to a pulp if she wanted to. She was quite sure that what mattered was that she didn't and that was enough. That made her good enough if she could, but didn't. She would never hurt Y/n that way even if she could.

The hold on Y/n was gentle now and the girl still covered her face with her free forearm. The gentle hold only confused Y/n further.

"It was from the coke, I care about you. It's okay since I didn't hurt you, Y/n, please, you're aware of it." She continued to desperately plead with the girl, trying her best to convince Y/n of the words that she lived by.

Y/n tried to pull her hand away, but Jennie held onto it. Something made Y/n's stomach still twist in a both good and bad way when she felt Jennie place her lips against her knuckles before cupping her hand and resting her forehead against it. "I didn't mean to do that." She excused herself as she couldn't figure out what more she should do. She genuinely felt terrible and didn't want to lose the girl even if she didn't have her to begin with.

"It won't happen again."

It went silent, the room being filled with the small sniffles and their hearts continued to pound. Y/n's body was warm and despite these bad things her body was always in euphoria and it took away from the bad, it left no bad in the memories. Her body was still pulled to the source of the only good left in her dull and lifeless life that she didn't want to live unless it was right by the source of life.

"Promise."

"I promise." Y/n let Jennie cradle her right after and soothed her pain by being in Jennie's arms, she kissed every little red mark that she left on her. She held her, and she did so gently while helping her calm, helping her feel safe in her arms. The woman made sure to show her why there was so much left to stay for despite the mistakes she committed. God, she held Y/n so gently, she kissed it all away so softly that the girl fell asleep in her arms and stayed in them the whole night, not wanting Jennie to leave.

Jennie didn't keep her promise though, but Y/n had grown used to it and she could tolerate it as long as Jennie hadn't laid a hand on her. It did start in the hotel room when she for the first time showed this side when fighting, but it only escalated. It was fine though. It was fine to scream, punch surfaces and call her names as long as Jennie didn't land any of those forceful punches against her. She got used to them flying right by her face and Jennie then excused it while Y/n would cry and break down on the floor unsure of where she was supposed to go.

The two were each other's prisoners in the end.

[Present]

Jennie's eyes were stuck on the girl in her arms as Y/n was hugging around her waist, resting with her head on her chest. The sex had played a minor part now as the woman wanted nothing more than to hold Y/n and be close to someone. It was the ecstasy working, but it brought out the things she wanted to do too and she knew about but avoided. Jennie had always longed for someone to hold, but it never worked. Y/n was too good for her and Jennie would be there for her even if it meant like this, in a way that wasn't supposed to be.

She didn't want it to end though and she knew that she had made many mistakes. Y/n still kept her around. It only meant that Y/n took her for who she was and no one else did. No one else let Jennie hold them and she had always been empty and alone until Y/n showed up.

"Do you have any aspirations left?" Y/n mumbled, melting into Jennie's touch who ran her fingers under the tee she had on, caressing her back gently. She traced her ridges, the skin that was hot as they lay above the sheets. Her touch was soft and gentle, but it could be cold and agonising. Y/n dwelled in both.

Jennie craned her neck to look down at Y/n and the question left her thinking deeper than she usually did. It dug up the answer she avoided, the things she never talked about because she was scared, she was embarrassed and didn't know how to talk about. There had never been anyone to listen and even if there was she was scared they would make fun of her for being vulnerable.

The drugs or not, she always numbed it, but then being with Y/n and being on molly took away the numbness and brought everything to life. She exhaled through her nose and hugged the girl closer to her.

"Business-wise, there will always be new things to achieve, I think it's outside of it that I have aspirations, goals and things I want to reach, things I want to become aside from who everyone knows."

"Like?"

Jennie pouted to herself, still finding it hard to bring up as it always brought a lump to her throat and made her eyes hot when they never should be. She wasn't supposed to be this way. Her walls weren't supposed to come down, but they somehow cracked around Y/n. The girl was so gentle with it, she didn't force them open, and she made them crack with such care that it didn't hurt Jennie. It was the opposite of how she tore Y/n's walls, forced them down and trampled all over them all while hurting her to get out everything from Y/n.

"I think...I want to change, be better, and stop committing the same mistakes because they always cost me someone I care about." It was the short answer of it all, but she couldn't bring herself to give Y/n the longer one. She had yet to come through through those cracks in her walls. "Do you have any?" Jennie asked, fingers running along Y/n's warm spine.

The question back hit Y/n right in the guts, her stomach tied in knots and turned inside out before getting dragged through broken glass. She had no clue. She had lost track of her life a few months ago and nothing mattered anymore. Nothing seemed important. Her will to chase after something, anything had died. She had the drugs to suffice, but how long could they keep her satisfied until her life would make even less sense?

"I don't have any–I don't know what I want,"

She wanted to break out of the loop. The loop that she was stuck in, but couldn't break. The one of drugs, parties, and Jennie.

"I feel lost and like there's no going back now, Jennie–" She stopped as it washed over her for the first time. It had been present, but only now did she truly realise where she was with her life. What her life had turned to. Jennie tried to hold onto the girl who pushed herself up and sat, making Jennie follow suit as she sat between her legs. Y/n's life was over, there was no turning back. She had lost to drugs and Jennie. It was over for her, wasn't it? She would be stuck here all her life with no digging herself out of her grave because all it would do was dig deeper.

"Y/n."

"I keep hurting someone I love, I am this person I never thought I would be, but it's like I was this way all along and it just took time to come out. My life feels lost and I am fucking looking for solutions in places I won't find them because only I can fix it, but can't seem to do...I feel–" She felt more than lost. Y/n felt like she had died already and was just wasting her time on earth. There was no place for someone like her because she wouldn't do anything good with her life anymore. This was it. All she could do was rely on and hope that the people she had wouldn't abandon her. That Jennie wouldn't leave.

Jennie inhaled at the feeling that made her jaw clench as she wrapped her arms around Y/n. She buried her face in the back of her neck and hugged Y/n close. Jennie proceeded to do what she liked to do when her mind spat the truth at her. She painted a deluded picture because her life was supposed to be perfect. It never had been and it felt like it never would be, but she still wanted to change herself even if she maybe wouldn't be able to quit everything like the drugs and parties, at least she could quit the person she was. Jennie wanted to run away from herself and be someone perfect–if that meant having someone.

"It's okay."

"Nothing is, Jen. Life just became meaningless all of a sudden and I no longer want to live my life."

"You're too young to end your life, Y/n."

"I already did when I got involved with you."

Jennie hummed at those words as Y/n played with the woman's fingers who had her arms wrapped around her waist. Jennie knew what she had done to the girl and Y/n knew what she had allowed to happen.

"You're the only one that makes me feel alive," Y/n admitted. Because despite feeling dead from the inside every day. Jennie made her feel things, she made her feel alive and made everything else disappear. It crawled over her, although in the best way possible when Jennie moved her hair to the side and gently kissed the side of her neck. Y/n couldn't lie, she loved the way Jennie made her feel, the highs she brought her to and the way she made her life feel so much better. It was all Jennie, no one did it better.

"You're the only one who has stuck for so long," everyone left, no one stayed forever aside from the people she paid to stay. Jennie knew why they left. She was the sole reason as to why she was alone and why no one wanted to stay. Jennie only had herself to blame but couldn't lower her ego and do it.

"I don't think anyone will stay if they find out." Y/n turned her head and faced Jennie who lifted her head. Their eyes which were filled with euphoria and pain ignited a spark that always connected them and Jennie leaned in. Her nose brushed over Y/n's before their parted lips brushed over each other too. "I'd always stay," Jennie reassured the girl and closed the small gap between them.

Jennie stayed even if she knew all these things about Y/n, the same way Y/n stayed despite knowing what Jennie was.

It wasn't long until dawn came and that was when the night ended for them.

Y/n woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a distorted mind with her world spinning from the come down after taking ecstasy. She knew that she shouldn't take any for over a year as she had been taking the pills once or twice a month if not more at times. It had left her dissociating, losing her memory, and more depressed than she was before she started to abuse them. Suddenly they were the only thing that brought serotonin to her life and Jennie.

3 P.M. was when the girl woke up and found herself in the bathroom and before she could get in the shower her glossed-over eyes landed in the mirror. She couldn't figure out how far rough was supposed to go because it went to different lengths with Jennie. Her hips and waist had small bruises from her fingertips, her wrists looked like they had been strangled, and she was too drained to feel anger, but more so despair at the hickeys left on her neck. The only thing that hurt was Jennie still lingering between her thighs and wrists. At times it felt like Jennie was just taking out all her feelings on her, but she ignored it because it was better than Jennie possibly taking it all out in a different way.

Her phone went off a few times again as it had been buzzing since she woke up. She decided on the most important person at the moment which was Lisa since she and two other friends were coming over. It was a text saying she was on the way and would be there in 30 minutes. That 30 minutes were spent getting ready and covering every bruise before Lisa showed up.

"You don't look too good," Lisa commented and walked into the bedroom where Y/n was slumped on the bed which sheets she had changed. She busied herself with her phone as she had a message from Asher.

9:12 A.M I hope everything is fine, call me if you need to talk or something. I will be home on Monday morning The games are starting soon. Love you so much baby

Y/n sighed as she looked at the texts and looked up at Lisa who threw her bag to the side and crawled on the bed.

3:33 P.M. love you and good luck

She had no clue how else to reply. Every single reply sounded forced when she wrote it and she decided to keep it short to not make it even more obvious. She did talk to him last night and it was enough. It was hard to express herself the same way she used to as the words didn't come as easy anymore. Those love you's, I care about you, miss you and more. It no longer felt right and the shame and guilt made it worse.

Y/n huffed when Lisa slumped down on top of her because she didn't get a reply from the girl who looked like she was in the deepest hole in her life.

It was riveting to see her best friend this way.

Y/n looked different, and not from her looks, but something else.

"What?"

"See, you still look like a black cat, but more of a depressed one."

Y/n groaned and looked back at her phone that she held away from Lisa to make sure she wouldn't get a glimpse by accident. It wasn't like her friend was peeking, but she wanted to see what the private messages were. She had fallen asleep around 6 am with Jennie.

1:12 P.M. Had to leave for the new work thing Left you a little boost, figured you might need it if you are going out Text me if you need something or can't get in somewhere Just text me if you are going out or doing anything

Y/n quickly reached for the bedside drawer and Lisa lifted her head, looking up from her phone at the abrupt movement. She watched the vixen under her rummage blindly through the drawer until she pulled out a small bag of white powder.

She knew Jennie had started some new branch in her company, expanding for more than owning a billion-making stockbroker company. Somehow she knew what was going on in the feline's life because she included her whenever they met.

Then came the wanting to know when she was out or with whom. It also came with getting in everywhere because of Jennie.

"Is this like a new thing?"

"What do you mean?" She questioned as she inspected the bag; it was snow.

Jennie always left her these drugs whether she asked or not. She knew the girl would feel like shit for the coming days or however long the come down would last. It would make her feel better even if it only made everything worse in the long run. She didn’t want Y/n to go through terrible withdrawals.

Lisa gazed at Y/n worriedly who put her phone aside, leaving the texts from Jennie on read.

"You're on a coke diet." Lisa deadpanned her suspicion because she could see it on her.

"How would you know?"

"Dated Philip who became a coke addict. You've lost weight that you aren't able to afford to lose when you are already fucking tiny Y/n." Lisa exclaimed the obvious and pushed herself up onto her knees. Y/n sat up and leaned back against the headboard, putting the bag on the bedside table. She knew that she had lost weight she wasn't supposed to lose.

"It's like 5 pounds, I'm 110 now." Lisa rolled her eyes at that as the 5'8 girl was always trying to justify things that weren't right.

"First of all I'm not addicted and second of all, what if I've lost some weight it happens." Y/n went on defending as she wasn't addicted to cocaine or any drugs. She was sure that she would be able to stop the second she wanted to, but she would have to want to do it first.

There were many reasons as to why she didn't want to stop it. It killed the pain, it let her feel better when she wasn't with the only person who seemed to take her as she was. It killed the guilt and shame when she was high and she didn't feel like killing herself until she did and re-dosed to make it go away.

"Then why are you so defensive about it?" Lisa calmly asked to not anger the girl because it seemed like it was stepping on her nerves. The topic was sensitive which let her know enough–not enough as there was more than coke to it all.

She didn't know about Jennie and what Y/n's life truly had become aside from the partying, drugs and alcohol. One thing she did know was that Y/n wasn't someone who could afford a cocaine addiction as it wasn't cheap.

"Because you are forcing something that isn't true onto me."

Y/n looked down at her hands and played with her fingers. It was heavy on her chest and she wanted nothing more than to tell Lisa everything. To confess her sins and get rid of the burden on her, but she couldn't. She felt too ashamed and it was killing her, she was killing herself because it was all her fault.

"Your nose is red, you come high to classes, work, and everywhere else I see you."

"You do it too."

She continued to try and justify it, but she knew that she couldn't go through a class without being high or doing a shift without crashing unless she was high. It was as if it was her lifeline and she couldn't function without it. Y/n continued to tell herself that she wasn't addicted though and that she could stop because she knew that she could, but the withdrawals would be too much at a time like this. She couldn't stop now when she needed to work and finish school.

It wasn't an addiction.

It was just helping her until she was done and then would be able to go through withdrawals without them getting in the way of her life.

"When we go out and not every time–" Lisa said and reached for her friend's hands, taking them in hers. She knew that she was guilty of taking drugs too when going to parties, but it wasn't all the time, unlike Y/n. It felt like every time she saw Y/n she was either high or going through a comedown. "Where do you even have the money to afford doing coke so often?"

"I work just like you."

"I'm just worried."

Y/n pouted, she slipped her hand out of Lisa's grip and reached for the small bag.

"It's pure." She prompted and despite the concerns and not wanting her friend to go through tough times Lisa gave in in an instant as she reached for her cardholder.

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @badaspookie @xszn @badasgff @hwm1hyun @herwhcre @lilacura @naycore / taglist is open

masterlist

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days-until-burnout · 4 months ago

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You want to write boat boys but need ideas? Joel did just build himself a room in Etho’s base, maybe a short fic about him trying to subtly move in.

Not the best idea at all, but it’s something. Good luck writing :)

you're in luck because there are no mistakes in this account 😌 and how could i refuse or reject a boat boys idea? it'd be losing a part of myself if i did that! also, this got a little sadder than intended. this was supposed to be a comedy but not! enjoy<3! _____

📧 Day 33 -

Characters - Etho/&Joel Words - 1,702 Time - 50 mins Content - Hermitcraft | Ambiguous relationship

Joel looked around. Nervous was an understatement. And to think this all started with Iskall’s Mission Possible. It was very much possible, and rather easy to achieve too, so why did he have to go for some unnecessary extra? Not like he would be getting extra rewards or anything; in any case, if caught, he would be losing. Mainly in the ego department. He could already imagine Etho mocking him for the rest of their lives. Really, of all the bases on Hermitcraft, he chose Etho’s. With everything they had going on, their obsessed ‘bit’, he really could not have chosen a better hermit (that was sarcasm, very much sarcasm).

Eventually, Etho stepped out of his base and Joel ducked further into the bushes, covered by the leaves, watching his every move. He watched him equip his elytra and get some rockets, tossing some in the air and easily catching them. What a dork. Etho set off shortly after, and Joel waited until he could not hear the rockets anymore before transforming himself into his tanuki form. It came with the downside that he had a shulker backpack with his inventory, but it had to do.

He got on all fours and jumped out of the bush, rapidly making his way to Etho’s base through an open window. If anything, he should have flown in through the caving roof. He spared a glance, cringing at the purpur blocks, only reminded of that conversation with Pearl. That was past, and now was now, which was sneaking down Etho’s base as quickly as he could. Knowing him, he had no doubt Etho would come back suddenly after having forgotten something.

Graciously, he kept his eyes down, high enough to see where he was going but careful to not peek at any new thing. And maybe he should explore, after putting the shulker down, Etho would be none the wiser at finding a random tanuki at his base. Sure, he would probably hear some teasing about sending a spy or something, a little guy to keep track of him, but that would be easier to wave off than having to explain that he had a room in Etho’s base. A secret room. A room that we would be furnishing, a room that he was making way too cozy. It hit him randomly that maybe he wanted to move in.

He walked right into the wall for that, which he felt he deserved.

The contents of the shulker rattled when he fell back, his tail caught at a weird angle that made him grimace. He let out a manly squeak of pain, still quiet in case someone else was around to prank Etho, or who knows, maybe someone else decided to move in too. That thought made him feel unwarrantedly jealous. Bothered by a non-existent (that he knew of) hermit. This was a very bad idea, much too stupid and idiotic with too high risk with… an equally high reward.

He did miss their nights together on the Relation, even if he never really hunkered down to talk about it with him.

That, too, was annoyingly frustrating. All that emotional, sappy feelings thing. Etho’s fault. All of it. If anything, Etho should have invited him to spend the night, many nights in fact, because they were former soulmates and now…

Joel looked up at the mailbox, at the light, an odd ache cruising through his chest because he knew none of the mail was from him. He should reach out too, even if Etho should more. Because he was a catch, and Etho was lucky to have been his soulmate… even if he was not sure if Etho felt that way. He had felt lucky to team with him, and might have joked about it once or twice, though Etho had never…

This was stupid. His tail thumped behind him, and he forced himself to his paws, ignoring the pain on his nose, resuming his journey. The sooner he dropped off the things, the sooner he could leave. Back to Magic Mountain, back to the people who had actually asked him to base with them. They wanted him, so it made sense to return the sentiment. He was wanted in Magic Mountain, not here.

The stone tunnel was cold, artificially bright and cold. Worse on his paws, but it had to do. The fake wall swished open and he dashed in, dropping the shulker in front of him. It took a couple minutes to move the items to the chest, deciding that he would sort it out another time, when his feelings and his head stopped being absolutely useless about Etho. The shulker shrunk, enough that it actually looked like something someone his size could carry around comfortably. He pressed his face to it and pushed it out of the way, just outside the hidden room, looking back to admire it for a moment. If Etho found out, he would probably tear it down. Send a letter teasing him and that would be it. Deeply, he wished Etho would not find out about it, foolishly feeling like they still had a connection this way. Maybe when he felt braver he would snuck in and spend the night, they would sleep under the same roof one more time.

Of course, he would have to leave before sunrise.

He turned around, feeling pathetic and stupid, small hiccups catching in the back of his throat as he fought back the tears. His tail dragged behind him, the shulker so much heavier on his back than earlier. He thought about staying inside to cry his eyes out, let Etho find him and just cut this dumb bit early.

Instead of Etho, however, a white fox found him as he climbed back to the main house. It sat with its forelegs in front of it, tail curled around its paws, almost like a statue but it tilted its head, ears flickering with the movements. It stared, and Joel stared back at it, frozen mid-step.

Neither made a sound, staring for what felt like eternities, until the fox uncurled its tail. Slowly, Joel watched it get up, elegant and graceful, intentionally slow. Then he shrieked when the fox jumped him, instinctively fighting back. The straps of the shulker snapped, rolling off somewhere as they rolled too. He had an advantage with grip, but the fox seemed all too worried about using its jaw, biting on his limbs and tail where he could, ducking almost… un-animal-like.

After a couple minutes of scuffling, the fox managed to pin him on his tummy, both fore paws on his back, a hind leg on his tail and the other on the floor for balance. Joel fought, for two seconds before becoming batter on the floor, a sudden wave of defeat washing over him. A sniff escaped him, brief but loud enough to be noticed. The fox pressed its snout on his neck, nuzzling before the weight grew, more and more before the fox stepped back. Soon enough, he was free, still too sad to move, only doing so because the fox grabbed him and turned him over.

But foxes could not grab with hands.

Joel looked up almost startled to find Etho, of course it was Etho. He had seen him transform into his fox form, plenty in Double Life, not so much after, and only a handful times during his brief visits on Hermitcraft during the Decked Out 2 event. It was not something Etho liked to do, but… but had admitted to feeling compelled too when their souls were bound.

It had been a while, then, if he had forgotten how the fox looked like.

Slowly, involuntarily, he transformed back in Etho’s lap. His arms still holding him despite the change in size.

“Hi,” Etho whispered, and Joel heard the grin with the matching crinkled eyes. His reply lacked as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around his neck tight. Etho held him too, almost as tightly, but not quite because he was much stronger than him after all. He breathed in stutters, trying to hold the sobs down and half-succeeding. “What were you doing here, huh? Pranking me?”

“Something like that,” he said, shaky but he said it. Etho’s chin landed on his shoulder, a nice pressure that quieted his mind a little.

“Yeah? Going to blow me up? Or are you going to slowly replace my roof? Or, maybe, you are the distraction.”

“I wanted to see you.”

There it was. The truth. The admission. No longer in Joel’s hands, no longer for him to worry or think about. He had to shut the anxiety of rejection, the fear that he might have made this awkward, that he had ruined whatever thing they had. This was it, then, Etho would never want to see him again. No more bits, no more mail, no more pranks. Nothing. This was it, their final interaction without another hermit. Him in Etho’s lap, on the verge of crying his eyes out while his hidden room remained (hopefully) undetected. Like losing everything all over again. When they had died on that trapped portal, when their soul became two again.

At least he could hug him a final time, which was nice. He would remember this hug forever. And that memory would remind him that his arms would never feel full ever again either, which was not as nice.

“Funny,” Etho laughed against his neck, breath hot and tingling against his skin, a smile on his lips also pressed on his skin, lips, a kiss, then another, slowly nibbling up to under his ear, “I was just going to fly over and find you.”

Joel choked between a laugh and a sob, screwing his eyes shut and scrunching the collar of his coat in his hands tight, burying further into him like he never wanted to let go, like he wanted to be one again like before. “You… are so obsessed with me… It… You’re so pathetic, Eefo.”

“You’re one to point fingers,” Etho giggled, tugged at his tail, making him let out a startled squeak before thumbing his tail hard, “soulmate.”

_____

me when boat boys: goes absolutely insane with wpm i have no bias. absolutely none. i dont, and will never have favorites i would ramble more, but i have none brain with left silly

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #smalletho #boat boys #ethoslab #smallishbeans #day 33

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maniacwatchestheworld · 5 days ago

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Hey! As a fandom and community, can we please please PLEASE talk about searchfortheblindeye more!???

It's obscure! It's considered noncanon! But I also think that it's interesting and worth looking at! Especially if you fuck with Fiddleford and the Society of the Blind Eye as a concept at all! I personally think that it's the first instance we have and can see Fiddleford being Alex Hirsch's very special man and Blorbo for his own series and honestly I love that for him! I also think that it was Hirsch's first unofficial testing ground to see how far he could push the cryptogram stuff, what the fandom could solve, whether we would actually engage with that kind of stuff at all, and is basically the spiritual predecessor the Cipher Hunt and ESPECIALLY thisisnotawebbedsitedotcom.

I URGE you to read the Gravity Falls wiki page about it because I have my own thoughts biases and blind spots concerning the page! The website no longer exists, but was thankfully fully archived on the Gravity Falls wiki, so go read it to understand it and the kind of experience that it was! But I guess that I should give a summary for newcommers who can't be bothered read it right now to describe what it is and why it is interesting, even if only on another surface level.

So at the end of Gravity Falls' season 1 finale "Gideon Rises" the audience watching is given a cipher. Search for the Blindeye. Later this would be revealed to relate to the series of animated Gravity Falls shorts that Disney would release between the ending of Season 1 and the start of Season 2 known as "Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained" that would reveal the symbol that would later be revealed to be the symbol for the Society of the Blind Eye in piecemeal sections.

A day before Gideon Rises had aired a website had launched. Searchfortheblindeye.com. How curious. It was a website that Alex Hirsch had addressed before in a handful of ways while it was online. Hirsch specifically said that it was not affiliated with Disney... But he didn't say that he didn't have anything to do with it! And we sure do know how much Hirsch likes to mess with the Gravity Falls fan community when he can!

On the surface, it really didn't seem like searchfortheblindeye had much going on. It featured a gif of Bill floating and had the remixed iteration of the main Gravity Falls theme that was featured at the end of Dreamscaperers as the website's audio. But in the source code there were encrypted messages! The messages seemed to feature 2 characters who didn't like one another very much. One is pretty undeniably Bill Cipher and the other seems to be the person hosting/programming the website. I'm going to be fully honest, I think that the other person, the person who is presumably the site's programmer is Fiddleford. One of the very first messages on the site was "LIAR. MONSTER. SORT OF OK DRESSER. TRUST NO ONE." Which establishes this person as someone who is aware of Bill, the Journals and what is written in them, but is decidedly NOT the Author (Ford)! Given the name of the website, the person running it has to be someone that is entirely fine with being associated with the Society of the Blind Eye. And again, they are someone who can program a website, and- from what can be gleaned from the person running the site and Bill's interactions- very much dislikes Bill (the feeling is mutual), and is quite the intellectual. Fiddleford meets all of these criteria! The messages and things on the website would foreshadow things that would show up/happen/be said in the series itself long before they would actually be seen or happen. I think that it's pretty damn safe to say that someone who worked on the show was involved with this website if Alex Hirsch wasn't behind it himself! So it might not strictly be canon... But it IS a lot of fun and is interesting! And I think that it gives us an interesting insight into what was happening as Alex Hirsch and the rest of the people who worked on Gravity Falls were thinking as they were fleshing out Fiddleford as a character! And I think people should at least mention it sometimes! Also fun fact, the website features Gompers' backstory lol. Like the Gompers backstory stuff as it appears in searchfortheblindeye.com still gets vaguely mentioned in new Gravity Falls media sometimes. So while it may not strictly be part of Disney's Gravity Falls' canon... I like ti imagine that the website and the things featured on it are kinda sort of part of Alex Hirsch's headcanon lol.

In any case... If you want more drips of sweet, sweet Fiddleford content and context, read the wiki on the website!!! If you want to see Bill and Fiddleford directly interact with one another on a speaking level, read the ciphers as they were catalogued!!! And... Well... If you're not a coward and enjoy FiddleBill or want to see the appeal of the toxic love triangle disaster polycule's least popular and least loved side, read the wiki on this website because I seriously think that you will get a kick out of it!!! Also it might be the most we may ever get out Cult Leader era Fiddleford! A part of his life that I find deeply fascinating and for which I scream to heaven high that we don't get to see more of!!!

Basically... PLEASE LOOK INTO THIS THING! I WANT TO SEE PEOPLE PLAY WITH THE IDEAS IT PRESENTS AND SEE PEOPLE ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT IT SOMETIMES AND NOT JUST MEEEEE!!!!! Also I think that I might have solved a mystery that went overlooked about it...? But that's neither here nor there

#society of the blind eye #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls #the book of bill #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #cipher hunt #bill cipher #the society of the blind eye #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #searchfortheblindeye #searchfortheblindeye.com #i am skell #fiddlebill

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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Rituale Septem - Day 3: Gluttony

Pairing: (Terzo x f!reader)

Summary: Secondo's acting out of character, but you can't focus on that when Papa has invited you to a dinner at his private quarters, with a few surprises up his sleeve...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 10.7k

Warnings: A whole lot of teasing, indulging, alcohol consumption, food porn, feeding kink, food play, temperature play, cunnilingus, spit kink, p in v sex, cream pie

If you suffer with any disorders relating to food, please be wary this is a chapter literally dedicated to eating and feeding. There is no mention of EDs or troubles with eating, but if you struggle in this area, please be cautious. Your mental health is more important than a chapter of a fic. If you want to skip but want plot developments, DM me privately. I’m happy to share 🖤

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: I’m hoping to heal some of the trauma caused by the Olive Oil fic, with this one... 🤭 This is one of my favourite things I've ever written, and definitely the most erotic. Heavily inspired by @her-satanic-wiles's & @angellayercake's food fics. (Seriously, we need more of this kink. I had no idea I even had it until reading theirs...)

Prev: Day 2 - Sloth | Next: Day 4 - Wrath

October 27th

Something felt different.

There was a staleness in the air, the kind you feel after you’ve just been shouted at by your headmaster in front of a classroom of peers; that cold, shy embarrassment. For some reason, you couldn’t hold eye contact with Secondo today. When you’d arrived at the office that morning, Secondo was already there as usual. But upon your entry, he looked up from his desk over the top of his spectacles (ones you had teased him about needing due to his old age and spent the first month reminding him he should be wearing despite your jeers), and followed you to where you sat. Normally he wouldn’t even look up, grunting a greeting in your vague direction and allowing you to get on with your work. But his silent eyes tracked your every move until you were sat, somewhat settled for the day at your own desk.

You looked up at him, and his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile at you, but thought better of it. Instead, he opted for small talk – which you knew he despised. He’d told you before that a conversation with no purpose was for drunks and the simple minded. And well, he was neither.

“Did you enjoy your day off, Sorella?” he asked, and you couldn’t quite tell if it was sarcasm or if he genuinely wanted to know. You didn’t realise he’d known it was anything other than a sick day, unsure of what Terzo meant when his note told you he would ‘handle’ Secondo.

“Um... y-yes, thank you Papa. I’m sorry it was such short notice...” you stuttered. He waved his hand in the air and shook his head to convey indifference.

“No matter, I hope you got the rest you needed.”

“I-I did,” you blushed, thinking back over what exactly had constituted as rest yesterday...

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you, a feeling of being watched creeping up on you every so often. When you looked, you would find Secondo’s eyes focussed on your face. It was as if he were waiting for something, his expression flickering between multiple emotions at the speed of a flipbook.

You saw what looked like a hint of anger, mixed with vague sadness and a delicate softness that was incredibly uncharacteristic for such a usually steely man. It made you feel as if you were intruding on his thoughts, like you were wrong for trying to figure out what was running through his mind today. And so, every time you found yourself attempting to figure it out and holding his gaze, you quickly averted your eyes back to what you were doing.

“______...” You looked up at him, brow furrowed in bewilderment – rarely did he use your name if it wasn’t first accompanied by ‘Sorella’. It felt strangely too familiar. “I would... I would hope you would be able to talk to me. If something was... on your mind, I mean.”

You sat quietly, processing. Was this a dream? Had Secondo been possessed by some kind of kind demon? You took entirely too long to respond, eyes squinting in suspicion.

He sighed then, removing his specs and dumping them on the desk, leaning back in his chair.

“I must be getting old,” he chuckled to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing at his painted eyes as old men often did. “I just meant... Don’t be scared to ask if you need a break. You work hard, don’t think I don’t notice it.”

“Don’t you like that everybody is scared of you?” you asked with an awkward laugh, trying desperately to lighten the mood because this felt too intimate, too much like an emotional connection that up until now you believed was entirely one-sided. You cared for Secondo, as your Papa, your boss – hell, even your friend. Six years of being at his beck and call, catering to his every whim to his exact specifications was always bound to create some kind of bond. But you never thought for a moment that he might reciprocate that.

Secondo chuckled darkly, “I do, yes,” he leaned forward on his arms then, giving you his full attention, “but not you.”

You fought the urge to ask him why he was saying this now, why all of a sudden, he had decided that you needed to know he cared. Instead, you continued to stare at him, eyes glazing over with a sheen of tears you were determined you’d never let slip. Not in front of him. He didn’t need to know what that alone meant to you – particularly in such a tumultuous time.

“I-I’m not... scared of you, I mean. You don’t scare me, Papa,” your voice quivered with unspoken emotion. Had he known you were wavering and doubting your position, maybe crying in front of him at his sudden sincerity would have made sense but he didn’t, and so you held back. He didn’t need to know that his kind outburst had affected you so.

“Perfetto... (Perfect...)” he nodded to himself, satisfied with your answer, and reaching for his spectacles again, placing them on the end of his nose and getting back to the notes on his desk.

You blinked away your tears, willing your body to not betray you and allow them to disappear on their own now that Secondo wasn’t looking at you. Thankfully, they did, and you could see clearly again.

“Sorella,” he was back to calling you by your title, business mode reactivated, “I’ll need your help later this evening. After dinner, to catch up on some missed work yesterday. If you don’t mind...”

Inwardly, you groaned. The thought of having to join him after spending the evening at dinner with Terzo... Well, it felt embarrassing. Terzo would need to go easy on you with whatever he had planned in order to avoid detection. You could really do without Secondo catching on that you were sleeping with his brother, much less why. But reluctantly, you agreed with an “anything you need, Papa.”

Secondo was under no illusions that he would be spending any time with you this evening at all – but that was the point.

He and Terzo had a plan, and you were falling into the trap.

Your heels tapped on the stone floors of the hallway where you knew Papa’s chambers resided. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest with each pace, coming ever closer to the large arched door at the end of the hall.

As you walked, you could hear music. Effortlessly, it flowed through the halls, riding atop an aromatic scent you couldn’t quite place – other than it being vaguely familiar, as if coming home to your mother’s cooking after a long time away.

The music grew louder as you drew nearer, grandiose and full of rich strings and stunning woodwind instruments. You couldn’t discern what exactly it was, unfamiliar with the style personally but enjoying how it seemed to relax your mind and still your fluttering heart.

Knocking on the door, you made sure to be loud enough to be heard over the music, and took a step back, flattening out any wrinkles in your dress. The same dress, in fact, that you had worn to the clergy dinner only a week ago. Shoulders exposed, breasts pushed up and on display, glove-like sleeves that hooked around your middle finger in a point and wine red fabric hugging every beautiful ripple of your body. Except this time, you donned a black satin choker, tied at the back with a striking, yet small red gem dangling from the middle. Glass, of course; as if you could ever afford a genuine article.

The door opened, and the music poured out into the hallway as if wrapping itself around you to pull you inside. It sounded like... opera. The beautiful bass notes of the male vocalist called to you, singing with so much longing. Mixed with the aromas of unmistakeably Italian food cooking away in the background, your head swam with a heady sense of passion. In dim candlelight, Papa Terzo stood leaning against the door frame, freshly shaven and moisturised with pristine paints in place as if they’d been redone before your arrival.

He wore a long-sleeved dark green shirt, rolled up to the elbows and tucked into black slacks, showing off a broadness to his shoulders only those who had been intimate with him would notice. His dress shoes shined in the light of the hallway, significantly brighter than that behind him, and his hands were covered with his black leather gloves, a change from the white he wore day to day. But what you had noticed first – ridiculously so – was the white, frilly apron he had looped over his neck and tied around his waist, cinching him in deliciously, yet comically.

He smirked smugly at you as he leaned, watching as your eyes dragged over his form slowly and allowing his own to do the same across your body. He didn’t have to behave at this dinner – he could ogle as much as he pleased. When your eyes met his, you smiled brightly.

“I like your apron,” you started with, flicking at the frills over the skirt of it.

“Sì, grazie. It was my father’s,” he gleamed, amused at his own joke. You couldn’t possibly imagine Papa Nihil ever wearing something quite so hideous, let alone being the kind of man to understand how to light a stove. “I hope you like Italiano, Principessa,” he winked, the innuendo not lost on you.

“I find myself craving it more these days,” you flirted. He laughed at that – oh, how he loved when you humoured him. He could flirt back and forth like a ping pong match all day, every day.

“Please, accomodati! (Make yourself comfortable!)” He stepped aside, however, not enough to give you a clear path – your bare shoulder brushed against his chest, and you triumphed in the way he seemed to tense at the contact while you remained aloof.

His chambers were as regal as you had imagined, and you took a moment to soak it in.

Far larger than your own small abode, it was filled with opulent furniture donned in fabric of his papal colour – a royal purple. His couch and chairs in his living room looked like they’d been stripped out of renaissance paintings and reupholstered with purple velvet. In front of the couch, an opulent wooden coffee table with a fresh fruit bowl placed in the middle of various berries and apples, all greens, purples and reds. The couch sat opposite a large fireplace carved into white marble with veins of black and gold, open wood fire burning welcomingly. Either side of the fireplace were two arched doors, that you assumed led to a bathroom and bedroom. To the other side of the living space, you noted a small dining table with purple upholstered dining chairs, matching purple runner draped over the table.

He’d set candles up on brass candelabras in the centre, place settings made and ready with a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket. The kitchen lined the far wall, hidden by a half wall and overhanging cupboards but open enough that you could see the pots and pans bubbling and steaming away on the large stove.

As you became enamoured in the details of his apartment – the speaker playing the beautiful opera music you’d heard from outside, the fire crackling away on the far wall, the bookshelves filled with trinkets and books he’d collected over the years, the portraits that hung on the walls of his elder brothers – you were too distracted to realise he had shut the door, creeping up behind you.

It wasn’t until you felt his gloved hands on your bare shoulders that you knew he was so close, the smell of his cologne – something akin to the spice of whiskey and the woodsy scent of fresh pine – filling your space and overtaking the smell of the cooking food. You could feel his lips ghosting over your skin, following his fingertips as he breathed you in.

“I’ve seen this dress before, no?” he mumbled deeply against you, pressing his lips to where your neck began. You shivered a little at his touch, your eyes instinctively closing in content.

“You seemed to like it when I last wore it,” you teased, relaxing into his hold as his hands ran down the glove-like sleeves, lacing his fingers with yours. The leather felt soft in your palms, the warmth of his hands radiating through them.

“You noticed,” he mused, knowing full well he hadn’t been subtle in the slightest. You hummed in affirmation, letting him wrap his arms around your waist, and in turn, yours. He swayed to the opera playing in the background, your body naturally moving with his as his presence engulfed you.

The moment felt incredibly intimate, his body heat turning your cheeks a hue of pink he couldn’t see from behind you. His chest pressed against your back, and he leaned into you as his lips continued to press feather light kisses to your neck.

“I like this dress very much, cara mia,” his kisses became a little more sensual, his hips swaying like you’d seen him do on stage many times before, “sei così bella che potrei mangiarti (you look good enough to eat).”

“But it would be a shame to let whatever you’re cooking go to waste,” you smiled, turning your head to look at him. His beautifully mismatched eyes met yours, and he settled his chin on your shoulder, the swaying coming to a stop. “I didn’t realise you would be cooking.”

He stood up straighter then, feigning offense. “Do you think me incapable, principessa?” he pouted.

“Of course not, Papa. I’m sure you’re capable of many things,” you played along. He chuckled, lowering to whisper in your ear.

“You have no idea, principessa...”

To your disappointment, he let you go, taking a step back, his warmth and the smell of his cologne disappearing. He walked over to the dining table, pulling out a chair and gesturing for you to take a seat. You did as instructed, not missing the way his eyes focussed on your hips swaying with each step. You made sure to sway them a little more than usual, your steps slower than your regular pace.

Terzo felt his heartrate quicken ever so slightly, the beauty of how your body moved in that sinful dress of yours overwhelming. He let you sit, pushing your chair in like a gentleman before he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

While he pottered around in there, blissfully mumbling to himself you focussed on the opera music flowing through the air. The mood he had set within these four walls was like something from a romance novel – seductive and enticing, a feeling of anticipation tingling within you. You weren’t sure what he was planning, but judging by the indulgent scents of the foods cooking, you had guessed he was going for a specific sin tonight.

Gluttony.

He was barely gone for two minutes before he sauntered back in, untying his apron and revealing that his shirt was unbuttoned one button more than usual – enough to allow a peak at the chest hair you became acquainted with just the other day, along with a glint of a gold chain, Grucifix pendant weighing it down. He draped it over the back of the chair opposite you and reached for the black napkin folded next to the ice bucket.

“For the lady?” he asked with a smirk, holding the wine up as if offering, “’Ponkler’ by Franz Haas. 2016; a very good year.” His accent sounded thicker, snobbier as if put on to tease. You decided you’d play into his game, test him a little and see if he would trip up.

“What is the bouquet like, may I ask?” you feigned a terrible classic British accent, tilting your nose up at the bottle. Terzo’s eyes glimmered with amusement.

“Small ripe red fruits, white chocolate, cloves and alpine flora – made with pinot noir grapes and from the South Tyrol region of Italy. It’s quite smooth,” he explained. Damnit, he did know what he was talking about. “Would the lady like to taste?”

“Please,” you smiled warmly. Terzo lifted the bottle by its neck, then used the napkin to hold the base as he uncorked it. He lifted your empty wine glass, pouring a small amount and swirling it around to oxygenate it. You expected him to hand you the glass, but instead, he gently placed the bottle back into the ice bucket and sat on the edge of the table to your side, looming over you.

With his now free hand, he curled his finger under your chin. “Open,” he commanded, and you didn’t argue, lips parting for him as you held his gaze. He lifted the glass, sitting the rim against your bottom lip, and agonisingly slowly poured the wine onto your tongue.

Your heart rate quickened, every nerve ending in your body suddenly aware of the proximity of him leering over you, touching you, commanding you. He was in control, more so than he had been when you’d first slept together. Everything was carefully thought out, planned, and so elegantly seductive.

He was right – you could taste the ripeness of the fruits, the smooth and sweet white chocolate elements... It didn’t have that sharpness to it, one of the things you didn’t mind about a red wine but would avoid if you were able. You basked in the taste for a moment before swallowing when Terzo set the glass back on the table.

“Well?” he asked, expectant, still sitting on the edge of the table with his thigh dangerously close to your own.

“Buonissimo (very good,)” you grinned, ignoring your heartrate and keeping your breathing as steady as possible. He laughed, impressed by your Italian pronunciation.

“Perfetto (perfect),” he stood, grabbing the wine bottle to pour you another glass to enjoy with a little more in this time, and one for himself. “I’ll get the appetiser, shall I?”

Before you had time to answer, he sauntered off into the kitchen once again, leaving you to calm yourself of the pounding heartbeat in your ear drums. After another moment or two alone, soaking in the atmosphere of the beautiful opera music and warm glow of candlelight, he came back with a plate balanced on the tips of his fingers, held up high with a fresh black napkin draped over his arm.

Ever the showman.

“To start, roasted pepper and goat cheese bruschetta...” he announced, placing the plate down as close to the centre of the table as he could with the candelabra in the way, and taking a seat opposite you. On the plate were six baguette slices, brushed with expensive olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper then topped with fresh goat cheese and roasted peppers marinated in a honey vinaigrette – or so he had explained as he’d sat.

You couldn’t fault his presentation. It looked like a professional set up, the way the six slices were laid out almost like a flower, a small pot of extra vinaigrette in the centre. He leaned in on his elbows as you picked up your first slice, anxiously awaiting your review.

In the first bite, you all but melted into your seat. The mixes of sweet and tangy within the roasted peppers and the fresh creaminess of the cheese were so welcoming, almost homely in nature. You were immediately whisked off to a balcony in Italy, overlooking acres of farmland with a fresh summer breeze blowing through your hair.

You polished off the first slice, enjoying each bite more so than the last.

“Good?” he asked, and all you could do was moan in agreeance as you chewed. “Bene,” he grinned, “here, let me.”

He stood and moved his chair closer to you, and on instinct you swivelled your hips to face him. His legs parted, scooting forward until his thighs ran parallel with yours. Then, he removed the glove from his right hand, and lifted another slice of bruschetta to your lips.

Terzo feeding you felt like a level of intimacy you had never had with another before, like you were so willingly submitting to him and entrusting him with your most basic of human needs. He never, not once let his eyes slip from where your lips parted, gently taking a bite. He saw the way your tongue skimmed the surface for crumbs or remnants of dressing, and it made his chest tighten. All he could think of, was kissing those beautiful lips...

With your last bite, the slightest amount of vinaigrette dripped from the slice to the corner of your mouth and Terzo didn’t hesitate, swiping his bare thumb over the drop and bringing it to his own lips, sucking as he held eye contact with you.

It was the single most erotic thing you had seen him do so far that evening. And heat burned inside you.

As you finished your last bite, you realised he hadn’t had a slice of his own yet – a travesty. You must insist he try one, right now. And so just as he had, you lifted another slice, and leaned in further to him, raising it to meet his black painted lips.

“Open up, Papa,” you instructed coyly, smirking as a natural response to the smug smile on his own face. Wordlessly, he parted his lips for you, arousal heating up his own body more so with your boldness. He would never let someone do this, never willingly be fed but for you, he would make an exception.

“Grazie, principessa, (thank you, princess),” he thanked you as he chewed, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips so feather light you couldn’t help but chase him a little. But he just chuckled at you, sitting back to finish his mouthful.

Before long, the plate was empty of bruschetta.

“If that appetiser was this good, I look forward to whatever tricks you have left up your sleeve, Papa,” you teased, dabbing a napkin on the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, there are many...” he smirked, “but first, a palette cleansing. More wine, Principessa?” He turned back to the table, lifting your glass again but instead of handing it to you, or even pressing the glass to your own lips like he had already, he took a mouthful himself.

You were about to swat his shoulder for stealing from your own glass but he didn’t give you the option, instead leaning forward, fingers curling into your hair at the back of your head, and pressing his lips to yours. Naturally, you melted against him, lips parting to kiss him as if he wasn’t holding a mouthful of wine but when he parted his own lips, you were soon reminded that he most certainly was.

Slowly, he shared some with you, careful not to spill any. It had warmed in his mouth, but you didn’t mind – the eroticism of the act itself was enough to heat your cheeks and earn a soft whimper from you. Once again, you could taste the berries, the grapes, the white chocolate... and something inherently him.

He sat back, swallowing the small amount he still had and letting you follow suit. Your mind swam with lust, desperate for more kisses, more wine, more flavour – anything he was willing to give you. Your thighs squeezed together as your core was set alight with arousal; and yes, he did notice. But ever the gentleman, he said nothing.

“I think our entrée is almost ready, cara mia,” he winked, standing from the table again and grabbing the apron from the back of his chair. Quickly, he tied it around his waist, forgoing throwing the bib over his neck and wondered back off into the kitchen.

You stood, taking the time to pour both yourself and Terzo another glass of wine, coming slowly to the end of the bottle. You took your glass in hand, and wandered over to the stereo that Terzo had on top of a bookshelf. You needed to focus on something, anything other than the arousal he’d stirred up in you already, so you ventured over to see what he was playing.

However, upon inspection the ancient boombox was playing a cassette tape, with a white sticker on the front, handwritten title in Terzo’s signature cursive.

‘Principessa.’

The opera songs you were listening to weren’t from one singular performance but were in fact a mixtape of chosen songs from multiple operas. And he’d made it for your dinner – for you.

Before you could think too much on the matter, you felt his strong arms wrapping their way around your waist again, his chin resting on your shoulder. Only now did you notice; he had removed his other glove.

“I wasn’t sure you would like opera, Principessa,” he began, “but I think it adds a little... romanticismo to the evening, sì?” You stayed quiet, instead opting to sip from your glass while you thought of a reply.

“I suppose I never gave it much of a chance, maybe because I can’t understand them,” you thought aloud. That much was certainly true – in the years you’d spent with men who spoke Italian, you had only picked up choice phrases – nothing so complex as this.

“I see, well... This is a song from ‘La Traviata’, which loosely translates as ‘The Fallen Woman’,” he explained, his warm breath tickling your ear, smelling vaguely of the wine you shared... “This song is called ‘Un dì felice, eterea’ or ‘One day, Happy, Ethereal’. Alfredo falls in love with a courtesan, Violetta. In this song, he’s confessing his love to her.

“In essence, he is saying ‘on one very happy day, you fell into my life and ever since, I’ve lived with unknown love. That love is the pulse of the universe, torture and delight, torture and delight...”

His arms around you feel hot, burning into you as he surrounds you. It’s beautiful, the male vocals are stunning and grand. You can hear Alfredo’s longing, his confession heartfelt and passionate. It’s almost present in the way Terzo’s arms tighten around you as Alfredo sings, except you tell yourself you’re being ridiculous. It’s merely the atmosphere, the scene he’s created. It’s nothing but a fabrication, a ruse to fulfil tonight’s sin.

And then, Violetta begins to sing.

It’s a contrast, a surprising staccato soprano after the tenor. Her voice doesn’t sound like it longs for Alfredo; it sounds like she is... shooing him away?

“Is she... rejecting him?” you ask, turning your head to look at Papa. His smile widens.

“A good ear... Sì, she is telling him to forget about her, friendship is all she can offer him,” his eyes search your face for a moment, before they settle back on your own with a different demeanour, one you can’t discern. “She is saying ‘honestly, you must find someone else. Someone who knows how to love you.’”

A breath of silence passes between you as you listen to Violetta’s staccato vocals. Eventually, the pair begin to repeat a line from Alfredo’s verse together.

“This is where she admits feelings for Alfredo,” he whispers, eyes fixed on yours. There’s a tension there, a battle behind his eyes that looks to be saying ‘kiss her... just kiss her...’

But he doesn’t. Instead, he retreats.

“Come, Principessa. Your entrée is getting cold,” he gently taps your behind as he wanders back to the table, moving his chair further from you and you can’t help but feel disappointed. He removed his apron once again, resting it on the back of his chair. You sit together, and realise he had already plated your entrées and placed them at your seat. “Lamb and rosemary ravioli. Made fresh, of course,” he smiles tenderly at the food on his plate, as if it reminded him of a fond memory.

Your first bite, and you can’t believe the flavour he’s packed into such a tiny little parcel of pasta. It explodes, tender lamb mixed with the earthy notes of rosemary, hints of the onion and olive oil it was cooked within. You couldn’t help the moan you let slip, warmed from the inside out and transported back to that balcony in the Italian countryside.

“Papa, where did you learn to cook like this?” you asked, very much aware of the effort that fresh pasta and homemade ravioli would take to create. He had made it all from scratch, and you couldn’t understand where he’d found the time, let alone learned the craft.

He smiled down at his plate once more, memories dancing through his mind to the music in the background.

“Mia nonna,” he said, before flickering his eyes up to show a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. His answer threw you for a loop. You thought for sure he had perhaps attended a class during his time in Italy, or it was just a hobby of his before he became Papa. But now it made sense; the familial tie to cooking explained the heart that he so clearly put into every flavour.

“We were close. She and I spent a lot of time together after mia madre (my mother) passed,” a sadness flashed across his face, quickly replaced with a mask of happiness, “I was far younger than i miei fratelli (my brothers), and she would look after me when they were busy with Ministry things. She always told me I needed to learn to cook, to ‘impressionare una bella signorina’ (‘impress a beautiful girl’) she would say,” he chuckled to himself.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this; you didn’t need to know anything about his childhood, and yet, perhaps the setting he had created for himself was all too realistic. Maybe he was fooling himself into thinking this was more than what it really was – a scene in an opera of his own writing. Still, he felt comfortable enough to share this. He knew you would think no less of him for telling you something of his childhood.

“She taught you well, Papa,” you smiled, allowing him a moment of tenderness. You figured he may need that, his life so full of duty and obligation.

You both finished your entrées in silence, the music creating a comfortable backdrop. You shared the odd smile, little moans of satisfaction with every few mouthfuls, until eventually you had cleared the plate.

When Terzo brought out dessert, your mouth watered... He carried a tray, filled with little bowls and a plate in the centre, towered with biscuits. In the bowls were different flavours of what you assumed were gelatos, scooped into almost perfect spheres. He set the tray down in front of you, and brought his chair back to directly beside you, slotting you between his thighs like he had earlier that evening.

“For dessert, an assortment of gelato – unfortunately not homemade. I make terrible, tasteless gelato...” he laughed, “but paired with homemade ricciarelli biscuits. Those, I made.”

Casting your eyes over the assortment, there were at least six different flavours to taste. Your sweet tooth was tingling, and the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering away with Papa’s thighs encasing your own again.

“The biscuits are almond biscuits, I find they’re much more delectable than eating gelato with a spoon,” he began, already scooping a generous amount of a yellow coloured gelato up with one of the biscuits. “Mango first, my favourite.”

He began as if to feed it to you like he had the bruschetta, except he moved it away, sticking the end between his teeth and leaning back. His eyebrow quirked up in expectation, and he beckoned you to him with two fingers. Ah, so the fun was beginning again...

With a cheeky smile on your face, you leaned forwards, spreading your palms over the meat of his thighs. Slowly, you parted your lips, engulfing the gelato covered end of the biscuit and biting into it with a hum. The chill of the gelato soothed the heat in your cheeks, burst of flavour melting into the biscuit as you chewed. They complimented each other beautifully – fresh fruity flavour with light and airy biscuit.

Terzo watched intently, half of the biscuit still stuck between his teeth, leaning into the back of his chair. He marvelled the way your lips parted, revelled in the hum you made at the taste hitting your tongue. Satisfied with the show you’d put on, he ate the rest of the biscuit.

He repeated this with several different flavours, allowing you to take each from him while he watched over, and over. He adored your lips, could watch them move all day. But he wanted to touch them, to taste them, to feel them on his. With every bite you took from his own mouth, he wished he’d forget the food and kiss you right there and then.

But this was about the gluttony of it all. It was about the greed, the excess. He would keep feeding you until he was satisfied. But still, just a taste...

When you expected him to pick up another biscuit, he didn’t. Instead, he picked up his wine glass, draining the rest of the glass quickly, as if he needed the extra confidence. Then, he scooped two fingers into the bowl of strawberry gelato, leaned forward and pressed them to your lips. Shocked by the sudden chill you didn’t move for a second, but that was fine – he didn’t want you to. Instead, he ran his fingers along your lips as if he were applying lipstick and coated them in gelato.

Terzo sucked the remaining gelato from his fingertips and moved towards you, pressing his own painted lips to yours. There was nothing sweet about it, save for the gelato. It was messy, indulgent, slow. His tongue laved at your lips, removing any trace of strawberry he could find. And you – you got too caught up in the kiss itself, gripping onto the open collar of his shirt and whimpering into his touch.

Your body lit up, like your veins pumped gasoline in place of blood and Terzo had lit a match. Every tiny little touch, every look, every seductive little show he put on that evening had led up to an inhumane level of arousal that you didn’t realise would snap as quickly as it had. You thought you had this under control. You thought you had him where you wanted him.

You did not.

But it would be a lie if Terzo tried to say he also had control. That was not something he knew well around you. In every aspect of his life, he had control. Too much of it, even. Sometimes he despised it and yet when he was with you, he could lose it. He didn’t need to have control – he could let himself go and succumb to you. And so, he did, messily kissing you and groaning against your lips when your hands settled back on his thighs and gripped so tightly.

He pushed on your waist to sit you back in your chair, standing up and towering above you. That look on his face was back; easily mistaken for rage but it was determination, need. It made your core clench, thighs pressing into each other.

“I enjoy my food, cara mia. I like to indulge,” he began, darkly hovering barely an inch from your face, “I like to play with my food too, in the right setting, with the right person. And here you are; ready and willing, eh?”

You nodded, breathless. You were so willing.

He shoved two fingers into a chocolate gelato, depositing a large amount onto his tongue before he dived in again for another deep kiss. The ice-cold texture mixed with the warmth of his tongue against yours was maddening. He didn’t break away again until it had melted completely, and you both were able to swallow whatever you could take from each other.

The act was lewd; filthy, even. But oh, how it turned you on...

With the gelato disappearing between you, he decided your lips were not enough for him anymore and began to trail open mouthed kisses down your neck and collarbone, covering the expanse of your neck and adding new, fresh patches of purple to accompany the now yellowing ones he’d left just two days ago. He liked marking you, making sure you remembered it was him who had left them. You let your head fall back, enjoying how his lips still felt cold on your skin that burned under the heat of your passion rising and rising...

In your bliss you lost yourself, only coming to when you felt the sting of ice-cold strawberry gelato being dragged across your collarbone, quickly warmed by Terzo’s tongue chasing the trail. The sensations heightened your arousal to new levels, awakening something in you that you’d never once explored before. But at the taste of strawberry on his tongue as he lapped it off your chest, Terzo groaned and fell to his knees between your feet as if it were him receiving this array of pleasure.

With the hand that didn’t have fingers covered in gelato, Terzo reached around to your back where you arched off the chair and dragged the zipper of your dress down, pulling the material to expose your bare breasts to him. He reached behind him, this time dipping into a pistachio flavoured gelato and trailing a line with it between your breasts, where he immediately dove in, lapping at the skin as if he was a man starved.

He was losing composure at an alarming pace, already filling out his briefs, blood rushing to his length. An indulgent swine at the best of times, this was where he lost himself; in the finest things he could possibly indulge in. Good food, good wine, and you.

In his reverie he reached behind him, grabbing a handful of gelato and using that very same hand to cup one of your bare breasts, smearing chocolate gelato over you. Your nipple peaked at the temperature, freezing cold as you gasped, watching him with wild and blown out eyes as he mouthed at the area, sucking on your nipple and the surrounding breast until the smear disappeared, his hand still coated in dripping gelato of multiple flavours.

Watching him like this was charging every possible nerve in your body, your core wet and ready for him whenever he might finally get there. For now, the pleasure he was able to give you through stimulation of your nipple alone was enough to have you gasping.

“Mangia, amore mio... indugia, per favore... (Eat, my love... indulge, please...)” he begged from his knees, reaching up to paint your lips with the mess from his fingers before slipping two past them to rest on your tongue. You sucked the sweet mixture from them, wanting nothing more than a burst of flavour and pleasure together as he worked on your breasts below.

Your mind felt hazy, a buzz from the few glasses of wine you’d shared now having an effect and mixing with the lust that clouded your mind of any rational thinking.

“Papa...” you whined around his fingers, cleaning them off one by one. You didn’t know what you were whining for, other than more. More of everything. More gelato, more wine, more of him.

"A moment, cara...” he said, pushing his fingers to your lips in a ‘silence’ gesture, and raising back to his feet. He left you alone in the chair, half exposed and half mad with want as he disappeared back into the kitchen for one final time, re-emerging with a new, freshly uncorked bottle of red Ponkler wine. He knelt before you again, drinking straight from the bottle by the neck before handing it to you to do the same. You did so gladly, enjoying the buzz it gave you and the taste of it on your tongue.

With his hands now free and wiped clean, he ran his fingertips up your bare calves, under the hem of your dress and past your knees until he was able to push the dress up, revealing your thighs to him. He dove his head down, pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses to the skin as he rose further and further up, parting your legs to slot between them. You slumped against the chair, taking another gulp of wine and watching with hooded eyes and a knowing smirk as Terzo finally realised...

You weren’t wearing any panties...

“Shit...” he breathed, unaware he’d reacted aloud.

“Can’t wear panties with a dress this tight,” you smiled, biting your lip. His gaze on yours changed, as if clouding over with a dark smoke. He looked positively ravenous, and his actions proved your theory. He gripped onto the top of your dress this time, pulling it down and over your hips to fling it from your legs before parting them again and slotting himself right in between.

He reached behind him for one of the small bowls of gelato – a salted caramel flavour – holding it in one hand while he used his other to scoop another generous amount onto his fingers and draw lines of sweetness along the inside of your thighs. The cold made you shiver, but once again, his tongue warmed you, cleaning up his own mess and drawing ever nearer to your centre where you were desperately dripping for him.

When his cold, caramel coated fingertips finally grazed over your clit, you keened under his touch. Your back arched at the shock and pleasure, until you were met with a warm tongue to replace the cold, and Terzo was lapping up the melted gelato.

His tongue felt heavenly on you, finally a reprieve from the torture of waiting, of being teased on and off all damn night until finally you had both just snapped. His fingers were long forgotten, smearing the rest of the caramel gelato over your thigh as he pushed them open. Neither of you cared about the mess you were making, simply too far gone. Instead, he focussed on the sweetness pooling between your legs, and how you were the most divine thing he had tasted all night.

His tongue laved over your clit over and over again, drawing circles, flattening against you, writing what you assumed to be Italian curse words letter by letter... Every so often, he would pour some melted caramel gelato from the little bowl still in his hand directly onto your clit, lapping it up like a parched animal by a riverside.

“P-Papa...” you mewled, your hand fisting into his beautiful raven hair as you clutched the wine bottle in the other. The dance between hot and cold, the feeling of sweetness oozing over your core had you experiencing this like no other time you had – and Papa’s skill was certainly unmatched.

You would take swigs from the wine bottle every so often, still desperate to taste something for yourself, to continue to spoil yourself in the name of gluttony.

“Principessa, you taste sweeter than the finest gelato italiano,” he growled into your mound, “this is the nectar I would make my wine with... I’d be drunk on you every fucking day...”

The moan that slipped from your lips at his words was pornographic, and he had put an idea in your head that you couldn’t push away the more he lapped at your centre. Slowly, you raised the bottle of wine over your chest, catching his attention as he continued to work you, and you began to pour it over yourself.

The red liquid trickled over your collarbone, over and between your breasts, and began to run slowly down to where Terzo’s mouth was engulfing you. When the liquid mixed with your own juices on his tongue, his mind broke. He slurped and drank from you, the mess unavoidably dripping to the floor when he couldn’t catch it all. It stained his shirt, dripped onto his pants and between his knees and he loved every second of it. Watching as you doused yourself in not just his expensive, decadent wine but the very symbol of the Dark One’s own blood...

It was intoxicating in every sense of the word.

As Terzo dove his tongue through your folds, drinking every drop he could from you like the sweetest of fruits, two of his fingers slipped easily inside of you, curling the way he knew you liked having already committed your sensitivities to memory during your first encounter. When he hit your g-spot you jolted, forgetting about the wine and sitting up suddenly, half a bottle still sloshing inside the bottle. His free hand kept you planted by your hip, pushing you into the hard wood and upholstery beneath you. You didn’t have time to think about the red wine staining the fabric right now – the thought never even crossed your mind.

As if he’d eaten nothing all evening, Terzo was starving for more of you. He was relentless, and the pressure was building inside you more and more, winding so tight you found yourself holding your breath. With his fingers inside you and his mouth engulfing you, you were seconds away from slipping from the precipice.

“P-Papa... I’m gonna...” you panted, breath stuck in your lungs as if he’d wound his hand around your throat again and squeezed.

“Do it,” he instructed, his voice dark and gravelly against your clit. And you snapped.

You writhed in place, held down still by a strong hand on your hip. He didn’t let up, continuing with the same speed, pressure, and calculated curl of his lips, tongue and fingers. Your whole body set alight, arms dropping numb at your sides and barely grasping onto the neck of the wine bottle, which clanged against the legs of your chair. You cried out a slew of profanities and whimpered ‘Papas’ as you rose and fell.

If Terzo hadn’t already been driven quite insane by your little trick with the wine, he might just have taken the leap when you came... Your body gave him flavour in excess, covering his chin with more of your sweet juices. He drained you completely, and slowly allowed you a soft comedown from your unimaginable high.

He sat back on his heals, wiping his mouth and chin on a napkin from the table. His paints had long since melted away, a grey hue now wiped onto the black napkin as he caught his breath. He looked up at you sat slumped back in your chair and realised looking at you at all had been a mistake. His poor weeping cock, aching in his briefs, couldn’t take the sight of you, and he found himself on the brink of begging you to let him have you right there in the mess you’d made of the floor.

“We’re not done, Principessa,” he growled, standing up and dragging you by the hand to your feet with him. Stood before him now, naked save for your heels and the glove-like sleeves of your dress, you felt like a feather, still floating from your climax. Terzo’s hands settled on your waist to steady you, letting you wrap your arms around his neck, grasping the wine bottle tightly. You could feel how much he needed you, pressed against your lower stomach...

“Take me to bed, Papa...” you slurred, pulling him towards you for a slow, deep kiss that knocked the air out of the room around you both. His hands slid from your waist, cascading to your hips until eventually he hooked his hands behind your thighs and lifted you, crossing your legs around his waist and holding you tightly. He was far stronger than you had anticipated, his biceps tightening in the dark green of his shirt.

“As you wish, amore mio,” he grinned, carrying you through the living room and past the coffee table, where you reached down and picked up the fruit bowl you’d seen earlier. In the spirit of gluttony, you would put it to good use, already picking off singular grapes to pop between his teeth before you leaned in to kiss him, sharing the grape juice as he bit into each one.

Soon enough he was throwing you down onto a beautiful purple bedspread, satin upon satin with layers of black to compliment. Terzo took the fruit bowl and wine from your grasp, placing them on his nightstand before turning his gaze back to you.

Wordlessly, he leaned in to kiss you again, chasing you when you crawled back to lie against his pillows without breaking away from your lips. He crawled over you, strategically placing himself between your legs and pressing his clothed thigh to your centre again. You hummed in vague pleasure, grateful for any and all friction as arousal began to build once again.

His Grucifix pendant dangled over you as he leered, a peak under his shirt visible where the shirt billowed from his chest. You wanted him out of it already, you wanted to see him just as bare to you as you were to him.

You rolled the sleeve-like gloves you were still wearing down your arms one by one, kicking your heels off to the floor at the foot of the bed, and reached for the buttons of his shirt. He let you, taking his time to pepper kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your breasts – all still vaguely tasting like wine. Before long, he was shrugged out of an open shirt, and letting you graze your palms over the definition beneath, tickled by the dark chest hair of a born-Italian man.

He let you explore, undoing his belt with one hand as he propped himself up on the other, pulling it from his belt loops. You wanted to help then, reaching down to palm his length for a moment and enjoying the groan at some kind of relief that he let slide. But waiting wasn’t on the cards tonight – not anymore. And so, you unbuttoned his slacks, undoing his zipper, and pushed the hem of his trousers down along with the waistband of his briefs, until you could no longer reach, and he kicked them off for you.

Lips attacked yours again and hands roamed the expanse of your body as yours did his. You lost yourself in each other, finding it all too easy to submit to him. His kisses lingered on your lips as he trailed back to your neck, kissing along the satin of the choker you were still wearing.

“A woman like you deserves real jewels, Principessa,” he moaned against your skin, “whatever you desire should be yours.” Your entire body purred under him, your organs fluttering in delight. You were never one for a gifts or expensive things but surrounded by the finery that was Terzo’s apartment you found yourself absorbed in his world, excited at the empty promise of such luxury.

He reached for the bottle of wine beside the bed, taking a quick gulp and holding it in his mouth. His fingers came and tapped on your lips, and on cue you opened wide for him where you lay beneath him. He smirked and spat the wine directly onto your waiting tongue, allowing you time to swallow before kissing you, tongues colliding messily and falling into another deeply passionate moment.

But frankly, you were done waiting. You were done with being the centre of attention. Just because this was your ritual didn’t mean that whoever you chose to perform it with had to come second to you. Terzo was putting in all of the work, worshipping you and as much as you adored it, craved it even when he wasn’t there... you wanted to worship him back. After all, he was your Papa... Your leader, head of the Satanic Chruch. He had cooked for you, opened his home to you, had you climaxing harder and faster than any partner. Time to give him a break.

Terzo’s length was pressing against you and being so close, yet so damn far was frustrating you to no end. Grinding against him was earning you harsher kisses, deeper moans but you needed him; now.

When you pushed him off you and put the wine bottle down, he looked at you with confusion, worry flashing through his face. Had he gone too far? Were you having second thoughts about this? Did you even want to continue this ritual?

Before he could panic, you pushed his shoulders, rolling him over to his back and swinging your leg over him to straddle his thighs. He didn’t fight you, in fact he looked ridiculously smug below you when he realised what you had done – his mind slower to catch up with the alcohol flowing through his veins taking effect.

“I haven’t thanked you for dinner yet, Papa...” you smirked, sitting up straight as he watched in awe. “Besides... I can’t wait any longer. I need you,” you whined.

“Take what you need, Principessa,” he curled his finger under your chin, guiding your lips back to his. Oh, how easy it was to be sucked back in, to forget just for a moment about the ache between your legs, how desperate you were to sink down on him when his lips felt like this.

But when his cock jumped against your stomach, you were reminded instantly.

Without parting your lips you shuffled forwards, hovering above him and grinding your hips along his length. Your arousal coated him, the warmth and the slide too good to not moan into your mouth, his bare hands gripping at the flesh of your ass to guide you. You reached between you and took his length in your hand, guiding him to your centre before slowly, with foreheads and noses pressed against each other, you finally sank down on him.

With your hips sat flush against him, chest to chest, you had never felt so close to him. Your arms wrapped instinctively around his shoulders, both of you wrapped in each other’s arms as you adjusted. It didn’t take long after the way his fingers had stretched you earlier, and so you began to rock your hips where you sat.

You swear, the feeling of Terzo filling you was unmatched. Able to control how you rode him, where you felt him was beautiful. And to top it all off, Terzo was so far gone himself, all he could do was grip onto your hips and desperately mouth at your neck, over the litany of purple and yellow bruises he had left.

It was all a little much for him, his mind swirling with thoughts of you and how intimate everything felt to be wrapped up in you like this. He’d had countless partners, of course, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so close to any of them. It scared him, terrified that he was allowing himself to get too close, that you were tearing through the walls he had put up years ago to block his emotions from the outside world. To your dismay, he leaned back, slapping his back against the pillows below him and covering his half-painted face with his hands as he groaned into them. But no, you weren’t going to settle for that, and so you slowed your pace and demanded his attention back on you when you reached for a deep red apple in the fruit bowl by the bed.

He peeked out from behind his fingertips to see you still sat upright as you ground your hips into his and staring down at him, taking a large bite from the crisp apple as you rolled your hips. The innocence of simply eating fruit whilst performing such a lewd act twisted into the ultimate sin. Had he not known any better, he could have sworn you were in fact Eve and he Adam, plucked from the Garden of Eden and being tempted into sin.

“Più bella di Eva... (More beautiful than Eve...)” he whispered to himself, but you caught it – and your heart leapt. Your reaction was visceral, out of your control. All you could do was roll your hips faster, whining at the taste of the sweet apple. With your free hand you prop yourself up on his chest, leaning forward to press the apple to his lips and let him taste. He obliged willingly, no tempting necessary. He gave in to sin so readily.

As he chewed, his eyes dropped to where his cock was disappearing in and out of you with each roll of your hips. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, never been more hypnotised in all his life.

“Cazzo...” he moaned, “You feel so good, Principessa... Made for your Papa, eh?” His hands roamed over your body, caressing every inch of you.

“Eat, Papa... Enjoy it,” you groaned, pushing the apple to his lips again for another bite. He did so without further encouragement, this time running his tongue over the thumb that held the apple, licking the juice where it gathered. He groaned at the taste, swallowing the bite and taking another from you. He’d let you feed him all day, every fucking day. He’d let you take care of him any time.

“Will you cum for me, Papa?” you whined, desperately barrelling towards an end yourself.

“Why, Principessa? Do you need it?” he teased breathlessly, knowing that was exactly what you needed.

“Please. Please, cum for me Papa...” you begged, thighs burning with exhaustion.

“Together, hm? We dive off the edge in each other’s arms, amore mio,” he promised, reaching a hand between the two of you and circling his fingers on your clit. Immediately you clenched around him, hips stuttering but you were so grateful for the added stimulation.

The apple fell from your grasp, hitting the floor somewhere. You planted both hands on his chest, using every bit of energy you had left in you to roll your hips as he held you by your waist, slamming up to meet your grinding in rhythm. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room, the opera music a distant atmospheric hum in the background now.

“Oh, dolce lucifero all'inferno... (sweet Lucifer in Hell...)” he growled, gripping your wrist on his chest and holding on for dear life, fingers circling your clit over and over and over like a man possessed. If you came, he could let go. He couldn’t let go until he felt you come apart around him.

Like a crashing tsunami, your orgasm washed over you. How desperate you were to keep up a rhythm, but Terzo had to take over for you, slamming up into you with vigour to keep you stimulated as you came around him. Your walls clenched on his length, body stiffening and muscles tensing as you cried out for him. Your nails dug into his pecs, tugged at his chest hair. You made the prettiest noises for him...

Terzo couldn’t hold back anymore, finally being squeezed so tightly that he’d have cum whether he wanted to or not.

“Fucking SHIT,” he shouted, grip on your wrist becoming almost painful as he bucked up into you, doubling you over until you collapsed onto his chest breathless. He allowed himself a final few thrusts, slower and each less powerful than the last, until he let his length slip from you, feeling the mess he’d made seeping onto his pubic bone.

You lay on his chest, fluttering and clenching around nothing. You weren’t sure how he did it, but every orgasm with Terzo knocked the wind out of you. All of your limbs felt numb, tingling with pins and needles while you regulated your breathing.

Terzo wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and pressing kisses to your forehead mixed with muttered praises and hushes when you’d whimper involuntarily. He kept reminding you he was there, comforting you, letting you float back to earth. ‘But who was there for him?’ you thought to yourself.

Without giving the idea too much thought, you raised a hand to his still painted cheek – albeit, incredibly smudged – and marvelled at the man before you. From the nose down, his paint had vanished, succumbing to the napkin. But his eyes, still painted were dishevelled just as his hair, wild and messy and falling over his forehead, sticking to it with sweat. His eyes watched yours, curious as to what it was you were seeing that had you so transfixed. He could only assume you were so exhausted and still drunk enough that your brain wasn’t registering what you were looking at.

But no, you saw him. And how beautiful he was...

You reached for him, pressing your lips to his gently in a silent thank you. A thank you for being there for you, for helping you with this ritual. For making you feel like you weren’t crazy, or a spoiled brat for never hearing His voice. For making such an effort to ensure the completion of such an important ritual. For taking care of you, every step of the way so far.

Neither of you said a word for the rest of the evening, opting to lay in each other’s arms for a while, just comfortable... Until you realised just how sticky you felt, remnants of wine, gelato, sweat and bodily fluids now drying and making you feel frankly disgusting.

But Papa wouldn’t let you get up, seeing how exhausted you had become when your eyes could hardly stay open. Instead, he brought a washcloth and bowl of warm soapy water to you, wiping you down where you lay and drying you with a fresh, soft towel. He tucked you into his sheets with a kiss to your forehead, and disposed of the bowl and washcloth.

He’d been gone for ten minutes, cleaning himself up a little before blowing out candles and switching off the music, when he came back to find you completely sparked out. He chuckled quietly – he knew you couldn’t last, not after filling up on wine and decadent food, then climaxing twice like this. But a pang of guilt shot through him. He should have been here, with you. He didn’t want you to fall asleep alone tonight.

He took one final mouthful of wine and climbed into bed next to you. To Hell with the inward battle of ‘should he? shouldn’t he?’. He wanted to be curled up next to you, and he had the strangest feeling you would too.

He slung an arm over your waist, shuffling until his chest pressed against your back. When he felt your arm cover his and heard a soft sigh from your lips, he could finally relax for the evening, stripped bare of his paints, clothes, and the wall he had built around himself.

He was beginning to let you in...

Secondo tapped his foot on the stone floor, watching the clock tick on above his door. Hours, he had sat here. Paperwork littered his desk, his spectacles forgone and sitting atop the papers.

He had no right to be irritated – he knew this would happen. He planned for this to happen. But a small part of him had thought maybe you would show, that you would surprise him. He thought maybe you were just that loyal to him.

When the clock read 11:24pm, he finally gave up. You hadn’t showed up to help with the work you had promised you would. Anger simmered in his gut, too easily wound up. This was a set up, and yet... he still found himself slamming his office door shut, and stomping back to his chambers in a foul mood.

And you should never go to bed angry...

Prev: Day 2 - Sloth | Next: Day 4 - Wrath A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

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