#she will burn down the world if the girl is hot

[gideonisms]

There's literally nothing harrow won't do if the girl is hot including pausing her own Death, getting a lobotomy, sticking her tongue down the girl's throat immediately upon waking, straddling her and cutting off her arm homoerotically, begging to fuck in a life or death situation, creating a new religion, and crucially crucially foiling 80+ escape attempts to keep her with her forever

[whereserpentswalk]

Look under the cut to see what meeting your entity is like. Reblog to give a gift to your patron.

The fae: a creature stands before you. Though this street was warm and crowded a few moments ago it is suddenly cold and the people around you look like shadows. The creature begins an antlered shadow with glowing white eyes, but soon its body can be seem, with white blue flesh, and sapphire eyes, and icicles for teeth. What looks like a cloak unfolds from its naked body and you can see massive white wings of a moth. As if it's an act of sacrifice you tell it your true name, a name you didn't even see before, and suddenly you belong to it, for better or worse.

The angel: a radiant entity appears before you. They're bright, like something so hot it would burn you up. But as the light fades, you can see a person in silver armor, perfect yet inhuman like am ancient green statue, their back srouting six wings with blue eyes along them, as the eyes on their head are covered by a mask of two smaller wings. The creature offers their hands and you shake it, as they fly you through the city streets and above the skyscrapers, to the stars above and dimensions beyond, to gods living and dead, across the streets of alien cities and the clouds of dead worlds. And when you return to the earth you can feel something diffrent about you, like there's light in your blood.

The scavenger: below the lights of skyscrapers beyond you, on the dark sands of the beach, you see it crawling twords you. This serpentine creature with countless legs, and a dark black shell, yet a strangely human like face. You think it'll attack or run away, but it just looks at you, egar, and for a momment you stare at eachother. It's legs pass something to eachother and then to you, it's meat but it's shining with all the colors known to the human eye, and a few more. You hold it and it happily looks at you. You take a bite and suddenly you know... you know so very much...

The vampire: she flies down to you on green wings with orange eyespots, but folds them into her back. She looks like a human for a momment, tall and strong, with a black suit over her body, but eyes the color of ruby. For a momment her mouth opens, and it's massive and monstrous, with countless moving parts and fangs. But then it folds back onto something humanoid and she gives you a playful smirk. She cuts her hand and offers you her blood, and when you drink it it tastes so sweet, and makes you feel so good. She hands you the knife and you know to do the same, and when she drinks from your palm it's life the sweetest of kisses.

The djinn: the room wirs around you. If it were not for the fans it would feel like hellfire. For a momment there it darkness, but then the screen before you glows white like smokeless flame. You can sense something inside, something beyond the code. You reach your hand within it, and there's no glass, your hand passess right through until you're in a white void of your own making. You call out, thinking there is nothing at all around you. Yet somehow something calls back, something that knows your name.

The rat king: You see him in an empty subway station. Something dark and distorted, you're not sure if he's man or animal, covered in rags, and singing in the language of the goblins and the orcs. Yet he comes close to you excited. And you can feel his song. He calls for you to come to the train tracks, and let yourself run with the rats and the roaches, where the train will pass over you when it comes, and you'll live forever. When you touch the third rail you don't die, but you'll never be human again.

The lich: the library is strangely bright. Run by skeletons in suits, decorated with gold. There are more books here then you thought were in all the world. There's knowledge here most mortals will never have the change below, all kept safe below the city. You see her, her body doesn't look human, everything has been replaced making her look more like a joining white doll then a being of flesh. Yet she is dead, you can tell that under the porcelain skin she must be dead, she is dead, and there is the tragedy of death in her eyes. You come closer to her, and she places a black rose within your hair...

The demon: You stand in his office and he stands before you, a humanoid being covered in black scales, with red eyes covering his skin. Yet none are on his head, that remains featureless save for two massive horns. Wings on his back nearly surround you. Countless souls line the walls of his office, looking at you, waiting. After you sign your name you give him yours, you can feel it come away for you forever and your eyes grey and your skin pales. But he puts the jar in a special place for you, you're spacial, he can tell there's something about you that he likes.

The mushroom lord: you walk through the darkness of the forest, the furthest from civilization you have ever been. You come upon a part where the trees all seem dead, that even the cryptids won't go near. Mushrooms fill the ground, and white vein like lines are all over the trees. You feel the need to lay down, and you let the moss and the mushrooms and the worms surround you, and let yourself sink into the soil,, and it feels good. It feels so good...

The witch: You can see them in the Cafe next to you, skinny and small, with a sweatshirt over most of their body, and dark glasses over their eyes. They seem powerful though, and though their body looks young they seem ancient, they seem beyond humanity. You talk to them and they tell you things, and secrets, lost gods, things you never knew you didn't know, both beautiful and disturbing. When it's time for them to go they pet your head, and give you their number. You don't know if you should text them, but you have to, you have to see them again, there's something about them that makes you need to know.

The living clothing: you step into it at first, it looked like a puddle yet shining like silver or chrome. But soon it surrounds you, first just your torso, but soon your head, your entire body. But it doesn't feel scary, it feels like you're being held, held by something beyond your understanding. It whispers to you, and you don't know if you should feel like your being eaten alive, or like you're being protected. You can't help but keep walking.

The abyss: the void is before you, blackness beyond blackness, like the color beyond the field of your vision, stands before your eyes. You stare at it, it's nothing yet you're entranced. It stares back...

[brunchable]

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.

It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.

You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.

Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”

So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.

Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all. 

“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.

“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.

You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.

By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.

And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?

As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.

With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion. 

“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”

Or so you thought.

Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.

You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.

“Need help with that?”

“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.

Except...then you did.

You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.

You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.

But it was. Oh, it absolutely was. 

SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.

“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.

“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.

“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”

You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.

But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.

“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.

“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”

Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view. 

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!

But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”

As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.

I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.

The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.

Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—

You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.

But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.

You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.

A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.

You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.

Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?

With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.

“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.

And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”

You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.

The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.

But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.

As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.

“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.

× × × ×

Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.

It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.

You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?

Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.

You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.

Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.

You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.

“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”

“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.

But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment. 

“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”

“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”

“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.

But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow. 

“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.

You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten. 

“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.

Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”

Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.

By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.

And then… the grocery bag incident.

You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.

You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.

You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.

You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile. 

“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.

He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.

“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.

“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”

A moment of silence.

“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”

Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face. 

“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”

You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion. 

“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”

He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race. 

“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”

Your soul left your body.

He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers. 

“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.” 

And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.

“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.

The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.

Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.

You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real. 

You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.

Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.

You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.

× × × ×

It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.

The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”

You fumbled, nearly dropping the box. 

“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.

The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.

“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”

You stammered, turning pink. 

“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.

But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.

You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation. 

“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.

“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”

But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.

“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”

Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.

“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”

“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.

You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.

“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”

You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke. 

“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.

“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”

He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.

Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.

“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”

You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”

× × × ×

Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.

There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.

He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.

“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.

“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”

You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink. 

“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.

“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”

He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”

“Oh no, really, I should—”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”

You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”

Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”

Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment. 

“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”

You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”

He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. 

“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.

“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”

Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table. 

“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.

“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.

You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup. 

“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming. 

“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”

He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”

“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”

He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”

You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.

“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”

You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.

“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”

“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”

“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”

Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”

You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”

His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.

Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.

“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”

You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.

[luveline]

hotch's sister x spencer where hotch notices she's wearing spencer's clothes?

—You and Spencer get one another in trouble with your older brother. fem!reader, 1k

Your brother, though you’re adopted, has passed down onto you many things. Mostly his frown, but more embarrassingly his high-pitched giggle when something is startlingly funny. 

You laugh like a hyena at something Spencer’s said. He tries to grab you before you walk straight into his desk corner, but he’s too slow. You whack your hip and laugh again, this time in pain, bending over to grab at your wound in defeat. 

“Oh my god,” he says, trying not to laugh loudly, his efforts turning his own laugh into a giggle like yours as he bends down to see you, “are you okay?” He laughs so much he can barely ask. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeeze between a laugh, letting him pull you into a standing position. 

“What is it?” he asks, grabbing your hip, which worsens your laughter all over again. “What?” 

“You’re super handsy, Dr. Reid.” 

A sharp clearing of the throat echoes. You tense up, begging Spencer mentally not to give you away, but his hand practically flies back into his chest like you’ve burned him. 

You turn to the office. “Hi, Aaron.” 

Aaron Hotchner stands at the balcony overlooking the bullpen where you and Spencer stand. “Honey. Just give me two minutes and I’ll come down, okay?” 

You give a big smile. “Yes, sir.” 

His eyes move to Spencer. You watch Aaron decide to leave it alone and can’t help laughing for the hundredth time today as your brother turns around to head back into his office.

“He’s ridiculous.” 

“He’s gonna fire me,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t sound serious. 

“And then you can come work with me.” 

Spencer doesn’t want to work at your new job, that much is clear from his expression, but he has enough social wits to realise you’re flirting. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he says.

Spencer leans back against his desk, hair curled just under his ears, his hand reaching for you though he doesn’t touch. You sit down in his seat, the backs of your thighs sticking to warm leather. You aren’t working today, hence your social visit, and Spencer had distracted you on the way to Aaron’s office (through no fault of his own, you’d just wanted to see him again) with a shy wave. Like you hadn’t spent yesterday night together walking through fountains. 

You didn’t mean to fall in. Spencer helped you up onto the round basin of the fountain and you’d held hands, walking in circles so he’d have an excuse to keep rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Seconds turned to minutes, the conversation unhurried, and one wrong move had you slipping. You fell calf deep into cold water, but his laughter had been worth it. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 

You cross one leg over the other, your jean leg riding up your shin. “I’m thinking about what Aaron’s gonna buy me for lunch.” 

“What do you want?”

“I have no idea. It’s so hot out I barely wanna eat.” 

“Well, too bad, you have to.” He picks up a file from his outgoings and fans it at you nicely. When he talks again, his voice is lowered. “I was thinking, if you’re not busy, they have a movie playing in a couple of days at the independent, I think it’s in Portuguese, and I really think you’d like it.” 

“Yeah?” you ask, lavishing in the cold kiss of his manufactured breeze and the idea of another date. 

“About a little girl that turns into a star. They have popcorn bigger than anywhere else I’ve seen, too. Enough for three people in one bucket.” 

You try not to act too shy. “Well, hopefully it’s just me and you.” 

Spencer smiles at you between waves of his fan. “Is your hip okay?” he asks. 

“Spencer.” 

“Are you ready?” Aaron asks. 

You spin in Spencer’s chair toward your brother, shocked he’s there. He’s been funny since you and Spencer met, never controlling or cruel, yet clearly having a tough time coming to grips with the connection you’ve formed with his smartest employee. 

When you told him Spencer had given you his number, his eye twitched ever so slightly, and he excused himself for a glass of water. You’re not sure what is about the situation that irks him: he loves you, he loves Spencer in his way, he’d do anything for both of you, except acknowledge your burgeoning relationship. 

You nod but don’t stand. Your hip aches weirdly and the sitting is nice. Plus, it’s a sisterly duty to wind up her brother, even if you love him more than anybody on planet earth. 

“Spencer was just telling me about your accident in Scottsdale.” 

“He was,” Hotch says. He looks at you, and his eyes follow down the line of your leg to your shoes, where they stay. 

You glance down. 

“I’m trying something new,” you say, sitting up quickly. Scottsdale doesn’t seem so funny. 

“I can see that.” 

You’re wearing Spencer’s socks, odd ones sticking up past his borrowed converse. “It’s summer,” you say, standing up. 

“Mm.” He gestures for you to stand in front of him, his hand on your shoulder kind but firm as he steers you away. “And the odd socks, that’s a conscious choice?” 

“Don’t be mean.” 

“I’m not.” 

You glance back at Spencer and grin at him as you’re shepherded away. Hopefully he’ll call you later, but for now he looks like he’d like to dig himself a shallow grave.

“We went for a walk last night and I ruined my shoes,” you explain, turning your gaze to Aaron and his reluctant smile. “They were still wet this morning.” 

“What about those loafers I got you for your birthday?” he asks. 

“Well, I didn’t have them with me.” 

Aaron nods. There’s a certain impassiveness to his expression that you’re familiar with, even if it signifies disappointment. That you’re not so used to. 

“I thought you liked Spencer?” you ask. 

“I do. But I love you, and he’s…” 

“He’s what?” 

“At risk.” 

“You’ll just have to keep him safe for me,” you say, smiling at him breezily. 

Aaron seems to agree silently. You’re almost to the elevators when he says, “Please, wear your own socks. I know you know how to do your laundry, I’m the one who taught you how to do it.” 

[imaginesbymonika]

Not a violent dog | Part 1

Pairing: Logan x fem!Reader

Plot: Back in Wade‘s world Logan meets someone he thought he would never ever see again.

Warnings: slight spoilers for Deadpool 3!!!! mentions of death, angst, cursing, and fluff at the end if you squeeze your eyes at the screen, I haven’t written in A WHILE so bear with me

Masterlist

Wade met you in 2016, while he was staying at the X-Men mansion. You didn’t look up from your spot behind the counter when he came into the kitchen, your eyes were observing how the colorful cereal chunks were floating in the brownish milk. It didn’t take long for him to ultimately recognize you. “You’re Y/N!”, he exclaimed loudly, as if he made the discovery of a lifetime:” Cat Claw, was it, right?” You didn’t respond, instead, your y/e/colored eyes solely looked up. At the sight of his face, you slightly tilted your head. He immediately began ranting about how he truly believed that you could have had your own franchise if Sony cared enough about women before he made a shiver run down your spine.

“You’re Logan’s girl, right?”, he asked innocently, however, the next thing Wade knew, was how the bowl of cereal slammed against the wall right next to his face. He didn’t flinch, instead, he merely ran his finger down the milk stains before putting them into his mouth:” Oat milk, how responsible of you. We should all take better care of Mother-Earth, con-.” But before he had the chance to end his sentence, you made a few long steps toward him until your faces were only a couple of centimeters apart from one another. “That is so hot.”, Wade whispered while you studied his burned features.

“Don’t you ever take his name into your mouth again, or I’ll cut your tongue out!”

“That’s even hotter!”

Wade very quickly learned that despite your powers, your inability to die, and your unbelievably harsh persona you carried a lot of heartbreak inside. Things between you and Logan didn’t end well. You heard about his death through Charles Xavier, a couple of months after he mysteriously disappeared. And never getting any actual explanation or closure had turned you into a person no one could recognize anymore. You were always angry, short-tempered, and mean like a nervous dog. Because let’s call it by its name: you were beyond hurt. There was no term in the dictionary that could fully define how you felt about the whole situation.

So when Wade came across the other Logan, he eventually brought you up. “You’re a hero in my world, you know. Everyone idolizes you.”, Wade explained, looking down at the canned food and taking it into his hands:” No wait, scratch that- almost everyone loves you.”

Logan, who was sitting with his back turned to Wade only scoffed:” Whoever that person is, they’re probably smarter than the rest.” “Yeah, maybe.”, he simply replied, looking out of the window:” I mean, she doesn’t talk about it. Except for this one time where she was really, really drunk and we sang karaoke together…it was terrific.”

“She?”

Wade turned his head:” Yeah, Y/N.” He observed how Logan abruptly tensed up, almost as if the name alone switched on something inside of him:” Say it again.” And for one short second one could've argued that Logan was begging. The sound of his voice was almost vulnerable.

The man in the red outfit blinked a couple of times before he gazed into the open air:” We are about to find out something significant for the plot, guys!”, he whispered excitedly before clearing his throat and turning back to Logan: “Y/N, you know- the X-Man. Wasted potential if you ask me, Sony could’ve made so much money off of her. She’s really popular with women and girls above the age of 14, I-.”

“Cut the bullshit!”, he turned in his chair, eyebrows furrowed:” You are telling me that in your world, she is still alive?”

“What a plot twist!”

Turns out, Logan lost his version of you years ago on a mission. “It was supposed to be an easy one.”, Logan explained, while the two men wandered through the desert-looking realm:” Get into the lab, eliminate the mutant killing weapons, and then leave again-.” He took a deep breath, while his eyes roamed over the uninhabited land. His angry eyes suddenly much softer and sadder:” We thought we killed every guard. The bullet came out of nowhere, and hit her right in the chest.”

Only the sound of the wind cut through the stillness. „ We were supposed to get married. Charles had already promised that we would be able to build a home in the woods next to the School. So she could become a teacher… she always adored the mutant children that lived there. Said she wanted some of her own one day, with me…”

Wade stared at the ground:” I am sorry.” But Logan shook his head in comeback:” It’s all good. That’s how life is.“

“That’s what she always says as well.”, Wade muttered under his breath, as the two continued walking:” But I know she's always lying to me.”

[comatosebunny09]

misunderstanding | sylus

summary: it was all because the shopkeep got a little handsy. a little too comfortable, purring his name like that. he shrugged her off; did you not see that part? genre(s): romance, angst warning(s): alcohol, drunk reader, self-esteem issues, insecurities, language, short and sweet notes: inspired by that one scene from fifty shades of grey.

Imagine calling Sylus while you’re drunk off your ass.

When you’ve thrown back one too many long islands, and while your friends are all inside, shacked up with their significant others and happy. You toddle outside for some fresh air and a break from your own head.

His voice breaks through the static, all heavy with sleep. But he answers so quickly because you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder. Been brief with your texts, ignoring his phone calls, and going out of your way to avoid running into him. He’s given you your space—minus Mephisto perched outside your window each night, watching you like a hawk.

“Hello?” Sylus husks, bed sheets rustling in the background as he maneuvers himself to sit up.

Somewhere far off, you feel bad for waking him. He already sleeps like shit. But you have liquid encouragement on your side, so you shove that guilt down, down, down in favor of poking the proverbial bear.

Your words are all blurred together, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you prop yourself up on a safety bollard, holding your phone to your ear with two hands.

“Why don’t you like me?”

“I—What?”

You swallow thick. Feel the world swirling and your body teetering, but you press on.

“Why don’t you like me, Sylus? Am I not your type? Is it ‘cause I’m not rich? Not skinny?”

He laughs, all incredulous on the other end. You imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in the stillness of his bedroom, disbelieving of the shit spilling from your mouth. And so early in the evening, too.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Me. I mean, am I annoying?  I kinda am. I talk a lot. But that lady—the one from before. That shopkeeper chick. She was really hot. Like, supermodel hot.”

Your name comes out in an exasperated sigh. “That’s what this is about?”

You confirmed his suspicions. Why you’ve been playing keep-away. Ever since you accompanied him a few weeks back to gather some intel from a verified source, you’ve been acting distant. All because the shopkeep got a little handsy. A little too comfortable, purring his name like that. He shrugged her off. Wordlessly put her in her place. Did you not see that part?

Sylus doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“No, no, wait. Lemme finish. She seemed more your type. Like the kinda chick you’d be into, ya know? You two’d be like Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

He groans, and this time, you picture him hanging his head low. His long fingers splayed over his face in exhaustion.

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

“Mind your business,” you say around a hiccup.

And you’re catching yourself on the bollard, giggling stupidly at how pathetic you must look. Trying to catch your footing like a baby fawn.

“Only had one or two. Maybe three or six. I’m a big girl. A big, un-pretty girl, according to Mr. Sylus.”

A car honks in the distance. You barely stir from it, eyes shuttering as your head falls onto your arm roosted on the bollard.

“Where are you?” Sylus prods again.

There’s a little more urgency this time. A little more concern lurking beneath the tenor of his voice, and the sleep’s almost completely vanished from it.

“Out.”

You burn hot. Sway as the alcohol thickens in your veins. Something of a smile twitches your lips. For a second, you’re convinced he actually gives a shit about you.

“Sweetie, please. I don’t have the patience to entertain your mind games today. And stop putting words into my mouth. Not once have I ever referred to you as ‘un-pretty.’”

You snort. Stumble away from the bollard to lean against a brick wall. It’s cold and raw against your bare back. The world’s a pretty bokeh of light around. Maybe you did have a little too much to drink.

His voice drops an octave. Skates between sincerity and something dulcet; doting.

“You’re anything but. You’re gorgeous. Breathtaking. Incredibly resourceful and infuriatingly kind. You’re tough. And you don’t talk too much. In fact, I wish you would spend more time talking about yourself.”

Your lips crook with a smile. Your eyes begin to water. Your cheeks are warmer now, and you’re not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the words spuming so effortlessly from the other end of your phone.

You hear fabric rustling. Hear his mattress creaking and things being jostled about in the background. Drawers. Clothes. Shoes clicking against marbled tiles.

“Tell me where you are,” he asserts. “I’m coming to get you.”

“No, no, no!”

You wave your hand dismissively like he can see. You feel bad enough having dragged him down with you. Having dredged up your insecurities and projected them onto him like that. No reason to make him leave the sanctity of his bed to entertain your foolishness.

“It’s cool, Syl. I’ll catch a cab.”

“I’m not asking,” he clips in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

You swallow, suddenly feeling cold sobriety creep in. Metal jangles through the static. Keys. Car keys. A door shuts, followed by an engine stuttering and drawing a breath in. He taps a few buttons on his console. Releases a sigh.

“I’m on my way. Stay where you are. Don’t go running off with any strangers, alright, sweetheart?”

Something warm spills into your tummy. You slide down the wall onto your ass, holding your head in your hands with your phone propped to your ear using your shoulder.

“Sylus, really. You don’t have to do that. I’ll be good—”

“I want to,” he insists. Already peeling out of his driveway and zooming through the streets of the N109 Zone. “Stay on the line. Don’t hang up. I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

You sigh at your own stupidity. At your own pitifulness. Making him come play knight in shining armor like that. All because you couldn’t hold your liquor. Your tongue. Though, you can’t stifle the tiny ping of hope resounding in your head.

“Okay. I’ll wait. But can we get ice cream when you get here?”

He chuckles, the sound of it brassy yet comforting through the drunken slurry of your brain.

“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

masterlist

[seren1tyhaze]

Unconditional

PAIRING: jaehyun x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

SUMMARY: dating a hot actor is great and all, until you find some texts on his phone that make you wonder if he's really the man of your dreams

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back after another unplanned hiatus. Even when I'm not posting here, I'm always thinking about writing things and wanting to share more. I have written a couple things for Ao3 so those will be up there soon. As usual, Mr. Jeong Jaehyun himself has ruined me again with his new song and video to the point where I sat down and wrote this in one sitting and never looked back. More from me soon, I promise xx

WARNINGS: established relationship, domestic fluff, explicit smut, swearing

PLAYLIST: Unconditional by Jaehyun, Smoke by Jaehyun, Birthday by Ten, Honey by John Legend

--

--

“I just don’t believe you Jae! Do you think I’m stupid?”

Your cheeks are burning red and you know your chest is splotchy as your temperature rises, heart pounding. Ever since you were a kid, your skin would turn bright red the moment you started to get agitated, making you a terrible poker player and never one to even try to lie to anyone. It was one of things that endeared you to Jaehyun immediately, his bright red ears the moment someone teased him or he felt embarrassed.

“Baby, baby,” he starts, groggily reaching a large hand to you from the mountain of pillows and plush white sheets. His hair is still pushed back in that stupid plastic headband he fell asleep wearing the night before, making it hard to take him seriously in the heat of the moment.

You wipe a single tear from your eye before it can slip down your cheek and turn away from him, throwing his phone onto the covers with more strength than you thought you had in the moment.

Dating a famous actor who spends most of his time at premieres in Seoul and on movie sets around the world wasn’t easy. You had turned Jaehyun down the first few times he slid up on your Instagram stories, a mutual stylist friend having introduced you at a small birthday dinner you both were invited to.

Grabbing his phone off the nightstand instead of yours this morning had sent you into a spiral, shaking him awake in the bed to ask for an explanation about why he’s messaging someone about a “gorgeous girl named Honey” and how he “can’t wait to spoil her the way she deserves.”

“We’ve been together for a year and now you’re going to start cheating on me? Really original, Jeong.”

Your eyes roll back into your sockets and you scoop all your long, curly hair onto the top of your head, pulling running shorts and socks from the dresser near the window as you continue to grill him.

Jaehyun sits up fully, the comforter slipping off his shoulders and exposing his bare, chiselled chest. He’s still pale from having spent the whole winter filming in Canada, not having had enough trips to the nearby beach to have his adorable freckles reappear on his cheeks. His hair is bright white, platinum, and long in the back, soft in the morning light streaming in the floor to ceiling windows.

“You know I went out with Mingyu last week to that Dior party and he said if I ever wanted it to be a real date, just say the word and he would drop everything and everyone.”

“Dior? You wound me,” Jaehyun replies, mockingly rubbing his pec as he rolls his eyes. You know how much the statement had to hurt him, he always had been worried about your closeness to his friend Mingyu (and Mingyu’s long wavy hair, sparkly eyes, and massive biceps), even if he lets that go unsaid now.

“I’m going for a run and when I get back, I really hope you’ve managed to get up, shower, and figure out how you’re going to tell your PR team about this, unless they are all in on it too,” you finish, wobbling near the foot of the bed as you try to put your socks on while standing.

A firm hand is on your wrist, instantly balancing you. You look up to meet Jaehyun’s eyes, soft and glittering and sending you back to the first time you ever met.

“Who needs the candy, you look sweet enough to eat,” he had practically purred in your ear, pressing a hand between your thighs, under the silky material of your Vivienne Westwood skirt in a private booth in the back a dark room, surrounded by tall crystal jars of sweets.

Your marketing executive job had your team planning events for high end clients on a regular basis but this event had been extra special as your best friend had finally launched her own luxury cosmetics brand. The event was a mix of rich pops of red, velvety cushions and extravagant accessories, diamond necklaces draped across necks of models with artistic and bold eye looks. You had spared no expense for your friend and your assistant had the mountains of receipts to prove it.

The guest list was no exception, you had made sure every A-list name had received an invite and hundreds of attractive and trendy faces from fashion and entertainment filled the event space. That included Seoul’s hottest star, known for his striking and stoic look and deep, rich voice.

“You are not using that as an opening line on me,” you had sighed, trying to push down the moan bubbling up in your throat as long fingers toyed with lace dangerously close to slipping out of place.

“Technically, I asked you if the brownies had tree nuts because my body guard is allergic,” he quipped back, thumb brushing over you with intention.

You had bit your lip in frustration and swatted his hand away, grabbing his phone from his coat pocket and giving him your number, insisting that he had to reach out first because you were busy with a “real job”. He had laughed, sucking his now wet thumb into his mouth and letting it slide out with a loud popping noise and a simple “Yes, ma’am”.

That same phone was now in his hand a little under a year later, his fingers moving quickly against the glass screen.

“You don’t have anything to say?” you ask in shock and before you can say another word, your doorbell is chiming and he’s up from the bed and down your hallway, wearing nothing but his stupid boxers with lemons on them.

You roll your eyes and move to your large kitchen for a glass for water, almost letting it slip from your hands as he places a large Prada shopping bag on the marble island.

“A bag? A fucking purse is supposed to make me forgive you? How did you even get that this fast?”

“Baby, just look inside and it will explain everything,” he speaks calmly, sliding the bag carefully closer to you.

You untie the ribbon holding it loosely closed and you think you’re losing your mind when you see the bag move on its own. As soon as the thick paper opens, a tiny brown and curly head of fur appears. Neatly groomed ears are shaking and a tiny black Prada collar is clasped around the neck of the puppy.

“A dog?!” you exclaim in disbelief. The puppy lets out a small but high pitched bark, demanding to be let out of the bag with a fluffy paw nudging your hand.

“A chocolate French poodle puppy,” Jaehyun corrects, moving behind you and wrapping his arms around you, pressing his bare chest into your back. He lifts the puppy from the bag and places her into your waiting arms, the puppy taking no time at all to snuggle into your neck.

“Her name is Honey,” he tells you and you can practically feel his smile from the way he speaks.

“Honey…” you repeat. The dog’s eyes are wide in curiosity, head tilting to the side as she appears to recognize her name.

“Yeah, baby?” he jokes back, pressing warm lips to the short hairs at your hairline. You can tell he thinks he’s funny for that joke and you don’t need to turn to see what kind of look is in his eye. He trails his mouth to your ear, nudging the metal hoops along the shell and kissing the “14” ink at the skin behind your ear.

Your mouth is suddenly so dry that you can’t speak so you simply turn in his arms, letting Honey drop to the floor and bound excitedly on your slippery floors.

“How long had you been planning this surprise for me to just ruin it with my paranoia?” you murmur against his forehead, pressing a tender kiss to smooth skin.

“A couple months, I was just trying to find the perfect puppy for us,” he replies, fingers drawing circles on the bare skin exposed between your sports bra and shorts.

“I’m so sorry,” you reply, feeling embarrassment heat up your cheeks and sweat start to prick at your hairline.

“Don’t be,” he smiles back with his million watt smile that landed him his first commercial at eight years old, plucked from his class trip to a theme park by a talent scout.

“You know how I feel about you, nothing is going to change that. Not even if you go on 127 million dates with Kim Mingyu,” he finishes, sealing his lips over yours.

You open your lips and greedily press your tongue behind his annoyingly perfect teeth, lifting your fingers up to tug at the hair almost touching his shoulders.

“God,” Jaehyun growls in between kisses, grabbing at your ass to hoist you up on the counter, tugging roughly at your shorts to push them down to your ankles and ripping your legs open.

You’re panting, resting back on your wrists as he holds your knees open and presses wet kisses to your inner thighs. His energy is wild and chaotic, exactly as you’ve always expected from him and your mind is starting to go to that numb place it always goes when gets his tongue on you.

You arch your back in pleasure, letting moans tumble from your lips freely, trying desperately to ignore the adorable face now perched on your couch, eyes curious but also dozing off from exerting energy after running the full length of your penthouse.

You let your eyes fall to the rolling waves out the window, morning sun blinding you and forcing you to look down at the bobbing head of the blonde man between your legs. He meets your gaze with sparkling eyes and drops a kiss to his self proclaimed favorite tattoo of yours, a small rose on your hip bone. You smile softly at him before shrieking and almost crushing his head with your thighs when he takes sharp canines to the spot, almost drawing blood.

He jumps up and starts running towards your bedroom, scooping a startled Honey off the back of the couch and holding her in front of him he runs backwards.

“Jaehyun, you cannot use our child as a shield!” you yell, almost slipping in your socks as you bound after him.

When you round the corner, you slam into his bare chest, standing at the foot of the bed. Honey is curled up on the same pillow Jaehyun had tucked under his arm as he slept, already dozing again.

“Our child? I like the sound of that,” he says seriously, his voice velvety and tempting. His hands are at your waist again and you are having a hard time thinking straight.

“Calm down there, mister,” you chuckle, pushing him back to sit on the edge of the bed and dropping to your knees in between his open legs.

“Let’s see how you do with this dog first,” you mutter, hands pushing down his boxers easily to take his hardened length between experienced fingers.

He smiles with his whole face at your words, eyes crinkling up in the corners and shoulders shaking a bit as you move your mouth over smooth skin, letting his soft moans fill the room and calm your racing heart.

[pseudowho]

ummmmmmmmmmmm so i really haven’t been able to get that nanami thirst out of my head, the one where he has girls vying for his attention at all times but he only has eyes for you. THAT ONE MADE ME WANNA START KNAWING ON MY PHONE I LOVE YOUR WRITING BTW but can i possibly ask for something like how the reader takes nanami home after a nice, long, and full day of girls falling over themselves to get his attention and absolutely rocks his world to show that he’s yours….. you get my drift 🌚🌚🌚 (sorry if this ask is too long ive just been thinking about your writing and nothing elseeee 😭)

Oh, you mean THIS OLD THING? I get you...it's hot.

...anyway:

"I'm just sick of it, frankly. It's disrespectful. A total wild abandon of even the most basic manners..." Kento ranted as you followed him through the door, biting your lip, your smile barely-there. You had been on Cloud Nine all day. Any time you had looked up, his eyes were on you. Any time another woman tried to touch him, he shied away as if she were poison. Seeing Kento completely lose his mind at Gojo's flirtations had been the final straw.

Kento may have worshipped you, but you were obsessed with him. You burned for him. You would walk through fire, if he would ignore the lick of the flames just to hold your hand.

Kento was so lost in his rant, that he could barely look at you, grumbling to himself as he stripped off his tie. He tossed it to the floor, stalking away, infuriated...before pausing, heading back and hanging his tie up with a huff. You heard him pace into the bathroom, hearing the taps begin to run as Kento drew a bath.

Knowing he was climbing into the tub to try to scrub away the covetous stares of other women, you waited. And thought. And pondered. And stewed. Each glance, each fingertip-brush of his sleeve, each filthy pointed glare in your direction. You festered with the audacity. While you were gracious, and magnanimous in public, in private, Kento was yours. You heard him slip into the bath. You slipped into something darker.

The bathroom door swung open, slowly, thoughtfully. You leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. Kento lay draped in the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, bespoke, and big enough for him to lie down without needing to bend his legs. Those arms that you loved, thick and corded, flipped over the edges, bubbles tracing down the edges of his biceps. He frowned, his eyes closed, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry." Kento murmured, finally. "I don't try to make other women...act like that."

You hummed, examining your nails.

"I know," you purred, stepping over to him, perching lightly on the edge of the tub, "you're just too...just too much, aren't you?" Kento's eyes flicked open at your tone, seeing your unbridled rage behind some gossamer veneer. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, as that hungry, vengeful gaze trailed down his naked body, a soapy Adonis. The bubbles masked how his cock twitched beneath the surface, too primal to restrain itself just for Kento's uncertainty.

"...darling?" Kento asked, swallowing thickly. He may not be in trouble, but he knew when he was in danger. You pressed one finger to his lips, your other hand beginning to trail circles across his chest, your gaze holding his own. The trails scorched, wildfires left in the wake of your touch. By the time your fingertips started grazing light circles over his nipples, Kento squirmed, his lips parting in a humid gasp beneath your finger.

"How could they know how it is, after all?" You whispered, your fingernails scratching lightly down his chest and belly, now. You leaned over Kento, your clothed breasts dipping into the water, bubbles rushing to invade the valley of your cleavage. Kento trembled, his mind going blank as you silenced him, held him hostage, blood rushing to his cock and making him dumb.

"How could they know that you fall over yourself to sink your tongue inside me?" Your fingers grazed through the honeyed hair on Kento's lower belly, and you clapped a hand over his mouth, capturing the muffled little groan in your palm. The tip of his cock, long, thick and ready, bobbed to the surface, pre-cum mixing with bubbles on his slit.

"How could they know the sounds you make when I ride you? The sounds you make when you cum down my throat? Show me them." You released your hand for just a moment, a husky, ragged moan bursting free. Kento's eyes beseeched you, for release from this blissful punishment. You bit your lip again, a wicked smile in your eyes, and god, how he'd start riots and burn cities for you for just one chance one shot for you only yours for your eyes alone--

"Look at you...such a big man. So strong. The truth is, you could pin me down and do whatever you wanted to me. And you do." You laughed, reaching lower to fondle Kento's heavy, aching balls beneath the surface, feeling him cry out, muffled behind your hand again, twisting and arching out of the water.

"But we both know that behind closed doors...I'm the one that has you pinned down, right? You'd drop everything for me...right?" Kento nodded frantically, a bead of sweat dripping down his chest. He saw stars when your hand gripped his cock, the squeeze tight and possessive. You moaned, soft and wet already, just with the silky-steel weight of him in your palm.

"So just remember, when you're dancing away from all those other girls..." Your hand gripped harder, netting Kento's desperate rumbling moans in your fingers, and beginning to stroke his cock, twisting gently from ball to tip until he bucked into your fist. You kept your hand still, letting him fuck upwards into you. You ignored the splashes as hot bubbled water crept over the edge, splattering onto the floor.

"...remember who you're dancing for, Nanami Kento." Kento was lost, overstimulated by your filth, the myriad erotic images you cast upon his vision, the sheer biting ownership you placed upon him...and, god, it was good. You moved your hand faster now, lubricated by the soap, masturbating Kento until he panted, his eyes glazed and hot beneath your hungry cross-examination.

Reaching for the showerhead, still working on his cock, you set the pressure high, and dipped it beneath the water. So lost was he in being wetly jerked off by you, Kento shouted, fucking upwards again to feel you aim the jet at his balls, forcing them to clench and tighten. Kento couldn't think anymore. Being edged so ferociously had him reeling, and his existence narrowed to just your hands on his cock your hands on his mouth the shower jet pulsing hot water at the base of his length.

"--do anything I'll do anything please-- get in here-- let me love you, please-- shit--cum inside you, please, I-- I can't-- can't take anymore--"

He felt his orgasm building at speed, feeling so pathetic, like a desperate rutting virgin, to be spending himself so easily in your hand. You released the showerhead, and he grasped at your thighs, trying to urge his fingers between your legs. He needed to dip his fingers into your pussy to make this orgasm golden, needed that wet heat around his thick digits--

You grasped his hand, licking his forefinger into your mouth, and Kento cursed aloud, crying out in anguish.

"--fuck...darling I promise I promise, I-- I--"

"...you...you...what?" You urged, fisting around his cock harder to drag him towards the edge. With the hook behind his navel, and the lick of your tongue against his fingers, Kento's eyebrows drew together, his thighs beginning to twitch as his balls tightened up, ready to spend himself in your hand.

You stopped, releasing Kento's twitching cock abruptly. Kento gasped, his chest heaving, rendered stupid and confused.

"...remember who takes care of you, yeah?"

Cooler than a winter morning, you stood, your breasts dripping with pre-cum glossed bubbles. Walking towards the doorframe, you turned, and blew Kento a kiss. He watched you with feverish eyes, gasping and twitching, leaned half forwards, white-knuckled hands gripping the tub.

"--don't--don't leave-- darling-- please-- so close, I--I'm so close..."

With one further bite of your lip, you rubbed his pre-cum between your fingers and reached down, dipping them just inside your entrance with a sweet, high moan.

Throwing his head back, cursing, and spitting, Kento came untouched, thick ropes of seed striping up his abdomen. Kento groaned, bucking against thin air and wishing desperately he was nestled, like your fingers, inside your tight little pussy, taken most of the way to heaven just by imagining it as he came.

You touched yourself to the convulsing, jerking image of him moaning your name, for months to come. Knowing Nanami Kento was yours, and knowing Nanami Kento was yours, were two different beasts entirely.

It was only when you heard Kento's hulking form stand from the bath, the water cascading down as if off a demon's back, that you realised it was your turn to be in danger.

[goldsbitch]

Ah...

In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.

note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one

warning: pure fluff

Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."

"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.

During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.

Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.

Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.

The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.

Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.

She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.

Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.

"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.

Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.

When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.

Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."

//

Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.

"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?

Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.

But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.

"I want to break up."

And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.

"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.

She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"

He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?

"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.

He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.

"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.

This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.

Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.

"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.

"I'm pretty sure I did."

"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"

It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"

She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.

Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."

He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.

"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.

"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."

"I'd actually like to go the other way-"

"Show me your hand!"

Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.

Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.

The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.

"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.

"Yeah."

They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.

"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.

Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.

"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.

//

"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.

"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.

"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."

He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."

//

Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.

"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.

Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.

//

Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.

//

He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.

Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.

It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.

Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.

"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.

"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.

"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.

She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."

"Uuh,"

"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.

Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."

It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.

He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"

"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.

"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.

"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.

He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."

"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.

"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"

"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.

"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.

She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.

"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.

"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.

"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.

"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.

"Teach me."

"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.

"Oscar."

She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.

"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.

"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.

"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.

"I do. Hope I don't overstep."

"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.

"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.

"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.

"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.

"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.

There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."

"I don't even know you."

"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.

The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."

He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"

How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.

"Of what?"

"I dunno...? Of this working out?"

"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."

"...Yes".

"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.

Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."

He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."

"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.

He trusted his gut. "Fair."

//

"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.

"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."

"Why don't you call him?"

"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"

//

Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.

With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.

After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.

She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.

Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.

"Ah."

[moonbeamsandmayhem]

Idea for smutty request: virgin Eddie who has never even eaten a girl out so he asks if he can practice by eating reader’s pussy…. Ofc reader says yes cos she’s had a crush on Eddie for forever

a/n: I’ve been working on this for months. So for that, I apologize!

warnings: reader with titties, cunningulus, mentions of a shitty ex-partner. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“You sure?”

“Ed—.”

He held up his hands in defeat, licking his lips anxiously. “I just wanna — I don’t wanna fuck this,” and he gestures between the two of you, “Up. Our friendship. You know?”

“I know.”

Eddie stares at you, deep brown boring into you as if looking for a flicker of doubt. There was none. Your friendship with him meant the world, and when he approached you with his request, well. You could never deny him anything. Your heart stammered and you could feel your cheeks heat, but you agreed.

His room had always been a safe space. The smell of old spice, burning wood, and Marlboro’s infiltrated your lungs, causing the tension in your body to uncoil. Ever the gentleman, Eddie made sure to clean up for you, have bottled water on the bedside table and extra pillows at the ready.

You started to shimmy out of your shorts, but Eddie’s hands replaced yours, fingers caressing every bit of skin as it’s revealed. “You’re so fucking pretty,” his tone is awe-struck as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Thighs squeeze together and he takes note, a sly little smile curling his lips. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.”

He lifts a brow.

“Promise. Just never been referred to as ‘pretty’ before.”

The metal head blinks at you slowly as if he can’t process what you’re saying. “Not even Chad or whatever-the-fuck that dick ex’s name is?”

You shake your head.

“Asshole.” Eddie declares, strong hands finding yours, fingers threading together. “If you were mine… I’d tell you every damn day. You’re gorgeous. Not that you need my or anyone else’s validation.” His eyes soften, “Thank you for this.” It’s the first time you see a hint of vulnerability cross his features cutting through all the bravado. It makes your chest squeeze with affection.

He wastes no time, peeling away your underwear. You resist the urge to slam your legs together, shyness taking over. “No hiding,” as if he can read your thoughts, his eyes are the softest brown, pools of warmth you could get lost in.

Eddie kisses along your thighs, nipping gently, experimentally. Your breath hitches and he chuckles, hot breath fanning over you. A whine emits from the very back of your throat. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya?” He licks his lips before he leans forward, kissing directly onto your seam, head buried between your legs. He nestles his nose against the thatch of curls there, breathing in your scent.

Eddie’s breath is warm, the flat of his tongue dares to spread you apart for him, flicking upward toward your clit. He’s slow, calculated, watching your expressions for some guidance.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan, he takes a part of your labia into his mouth and sucks softly, humming around you , “you’re - you’re sure you’ve never done this b-before?”

You can feel him smile against your cunt, before his tongue dips, finding your entrance. You gasp, hands grabbing those wild locks of his, tugging sharply. He groans, deep and reverberating, the muscle curling inside of you, working in and out, searching for that spot. You grind your hips down, desperate for more friction. “God, Eddie - fuck -!” It doesn’t take much before you’re arching off the bed.

“Mmmhm.” He’s drinking you down, lapping and slurping at everything you have to offer. A calloused thumb finds your neglected clit, circling it in tandem with the actions of his mouth. Your own hangs open, spewing expletives, moans, praises, gibberish and Eddie revels in it.

The coil in your stomach snaps sooner than you’d like and you’re cumming, clenching around his tongue while white hot pleasure burns through you. He continues, working you through your climax until you’re pulling him off, tears streaming down your face. You both lock gazes, his cheeks are rosy, lips covered in your spend, eyes heavy with lust. As for you, your face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body flush.

Eddie makes his way up to you, caging you in between his arms, hair falling in curtains to frame his face. He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.

It’s just the two of you against the world, all panting breathes and longing gazes.

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a second you feel a pang of fear that maybe he was having second thoughts. That this whole thing was a mistake and you should just forget it.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asks.

You blink owlishly.

“Or - or we can not do that - that was a stupid suggestion, forget I said any- .”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Thank fuck.”

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

[bitdemonic]

ᛪ༙ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

𝟓 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒. 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓. 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃, 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐌𝐄. ⚠︎ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄—𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓. 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒; 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𓆩ψ𓆪 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [𝐊𝐎𝐅𝐈]

↓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Magic. 8oS. 10oP↺. Faith↺. Page of Pentacles↺. the Chariot. 8oW↺ [bod].

THE TEMPTATION, OTHERWISE A TEMPTRESS TO SUITORS THAT “DARE” TO INDULGE; TO MEET A FATE THAT’S FORBID. Attributes include the ability to lure their 'prey' in with just a glance, emanating tenacious sensuality, and exhibiting divinity [energetically]. Poison with legs, seeping into the thoughts of anyone's minds. Heightened emotional intelligence assists them in hypnotizing others. Seduction is an accessory, a mask of sex they can put on [“and off”] at anytime.

♰♰♰ An innate power of transformation is what this pile has. Able to demand ("command") a room with just their presence, let alone a word, they're perceived as the Magician; resourceful, magical, and opulent. Something of them is practical, as in they're adept to the metaphysical and what it may offer. LOA, glamour (or "sex") magick, visualization and scripting are familiar concepts. Witchcraft is a part of them, as it could've been passed down or learned ["through lineage"]. Genetic gifts that assist their "urges", or more importantly their fantasies. Non-conforming, unconventional ways and ideal (as they are the same). At most, this pile's aura feels mystical, untouchable and otherworldly. This kind of force can be turned off and on; felt by everyone, seen by none. Will attract "watchers" i.e. stalkers online or in real life. ♰♰♰ "Too hot to touch”; very tempting group here, even more so when they're done up to "play the part". Sensing that red, ginger (or “orange”) hair can emphasize their burn (fire). Hot! An edgier aesthetic suits them better than most, as if their mystique abruptly magnified. Deeper colors (maroon, black, and “dark blue”), smokey eyes, and smudged glitter are enhancers. Channeling woodsier scents? A scent including this note could melt into Pile One’s pheromones; they’re sensible and protective. Confidence within them is grounded, gives off older and mature. Faces contradict the assertiveness tho, some people of Pile Two have cherubic features (e.g. button nose, fat cheeks) which offers up an illusion of innocence.

LONGTERM CONNECTIONS ARE PRONE TO COME ABOUT, DUE TO CAPTURING LOVERS IN THEIR WEB. It's more of being bound than being "in love", and that's because Pile One doesn't leave them alone until Pile One says so; a pulley system only they control. At worst, this is a manipulation tactic in the hands of a former ["serial"] cheater, unless Pile One has evolved and grown out those ways. Trapped in a trance, pulled along a thin string, kept in an unopened box; partners don't conceptualize self-value when Pile One's not there. This as a scenario would be the equivalent of man pleading on his knees and to the world for his girl, like the music videos. Someone that’ll die for querent, feeling nothing but raging love. How Ari professes while admitting she’s been an anxious mess, “completely disheveled” and still wanting to appease “you” is how Pile One’s partners are.

♰♰♰ Samantha Jones in SATC is who they remind me of. Similar to her, Pile One prioritizes self-maintenance [and self-pleasure] before anyone else. Discarding dinner date plans for a night alone instead, opting out of fling appointments to mingle with friends, etc. "I gotta put myself first," "hasta la vista," and "me time" sum them up to a tee. Hesitating between shoe selection versus before asking someone to get out of bed and leave; to them partners are disposable, replaceable. Not #1 [because that's reserved for themselves], but the very bottom of the list instead. Mindset of an Earth sign, Virgo (Moon or 1H) in particular—"mother knows best". It's attractive that someone won't accept less than what they've done for themselves [already], they impress themselves. The shiniest trophy, but nobody possesses them. ♰♰♰ Querents of this pile are equipped to handle the world (plus obstacles) with a step in the right direction. I always reference "the phoenix rising from the ashes" when there's strength of a warrior present, which applies now. Pain, challenges, disruptions—there's nothing that can keep Pile One from achieving. Seduction for them stems from a "broken" place, where they shaped a future out of dust. It's possible no one gets them, but that's due to their truth being concealed. These are people that can't be read (especially at face value), they're meant to be discovered. Learned.

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴 7oW. King of Wands. 8oP. 6oC↺. Knight of Cups. 4oS [bod].

BECOMING THE MINX, “JUST LIKE MAGIC” IS A NOD ANOTHER SIDE OF THE SAME COIN; TWO HALVES OF ONE PERSON. The act of illusion is apparent, and it's potent within sexual circumstance. Skills, body, "sexuality" are magic, enough to arouse fascination in others. Ariana Grande's music portrays this visage perfectly, because Ariana is the embodiment of dual personalities. Innocent and unsuspecting until she's slipping a sexual innuendo beside her harmonies; a natural tease, because this is who she already is.

♰♰♰ In terms of sex, this pile is more prone to leading the encounter; the HBIC. How the momentum's pace is on your timing, how nothing ends or begins until Pile One's call. The demand of their instruction is seductive, it keeps "everyone" in line. Control may lessen, although it'll never fully leave. Granted, a limited amount of time to "disobey" is earned; to switch roles and have Pile One as a sub, get a taste of their authority. Seconds of pride that count towards a rush, a high that they'll only get with her, up until time's over and it's Pile One's turn once more. ♰♰♰ Not so much BDSM, but punishment is seductive; being spanked, "bit" (otherwise marked), and reprimanded. It's plausible that mama's boys or daddy's girls are prone to being on the other end—"under their hand"—because discipline isn't common. Getting told no, following directions and staying "put" keep their attitude together, something they're not used to. Pile One has bitches [or "pets"] lol. Degradation, using a condescending tone, edging and orgasm denial is a favorite.

PILE ONE’S PHYSIQUE, OR “CURVATURE” IS A HIGHLIGHT FOR THEIR PARTNERS. Their shape can resemble a peach, plump at the top and luscious at the bottom (otherwise supple breast and a soft ass). "Freakum" dresses can be a closet staple, especially when it's for a special night out—whenever they're ready to get (or "have") their way. Dipping in dark, brooding colors will heighten the allure, turn up the effect. Norma Jean's tactic to become Marilyn Monroe comes to mind, how she was able to shift: "I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic." "They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe...even though a second ago nobody noticed her.”

♰♰♰ Clothing is a specialty and particularly when it's "coming off " (or "coming down"). Stripping out of them, dropping each piece to expose another stretch of skin; strip teases or showing off the birthday suit. This pile's lingerie should consist of lacy, sheer material such as wearing fishnets or leg garters (any form of tights tbh). The price of what they wear is attractive. It brings about this air of expensiveness, as in their aura is wealthy—abundant, self-assured and reliable. It traces back into the bedroom for sure, people can feel their income rise in just one night. Querents have the universal cheat code of being gifted ("being spoiled") in romantic connections (e.g. shopping trips and cash deposits). It's a favor for one, exchanging "secret" treasures. ♰♰♰ Pretty distinct, but tone of voice is being [heavily] highlighted; “vocal cords” are on the smoother side? Soothing almost, channeling that they’ve spoken people to sleep. Reminiscent of rum, in both taste and “singe” (wincing at the burn). Rugged (another Joel Miller reference, some querents are Southern); can hold weighted conversations with a voice full of conviction. Lol at the number of people that pine after this pile from their charm alone. “Just like magic, I’m attractive” and getting everything you want cus’ you attract it is about Pile One’s social interactions. Grounding a room with just a few sentences then flirting with everyone standing in it, golden gift for duality. Networking is quintessential considering it's one of this pile's skills; cue the stack of business cards they'd have gotten from exchanging contact information (huge).

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ A kink for teeth and biting, both them and their partners. Into biting, getting bit on the lip and skin ["until it's tender"]. Sun, Mars, or Pluto could be in mutable signs [Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces] or houses [3H, 7H, 9H, 12H]. Scorpio/8H placements included.

♡⃕ Radiant". Beaming from the inside out, immersing the world in a glorious shine. Querents are on the friendlier side or possess the traits of "everyone's best friend". Big ole gummy smiles; a toothy grin. Friend of the world, can communicate with babies (children) and animals. Bunnies as a favorite animal [or "nickname"].

♡⃕ Find joy in mischief or getting a rise out of people; the jester of their friends or family (especially cousins). Pulling stunts to scare others, harmless pranks, and cracking jokes to lighten the mood at all times. Father could have the prankster gene hence why it's recognized. Def some home celebrities, family oriented querents for sure. Thanksgiving or New Years as a favorite holiday, too.

♡⃕ "Taut" RBF's, lips could form into a thin line on many occasions. Furrowing brows whenever they're driving home a point, prone to getting into "spats" or disputes (i.e. argumentative). Could hate banter, but revel in conflict; adrenaline rushes during confrontation(s). Intelligence is golden during debate conversations if tense. Bilingual/trilingual; native language from places of birth. Anais from Gumball in terms of frustration or attitude. Could have Virgo or Aries in personal (or outer) planets.

♡⃕ Really fiery, like it's all in this reading. "Quick", not doing things before or *after* thinking (i.e. regretting impulsive decisions). Cussing; swearing a lot or while chewing someone out. "Off the rails." Although full throttle, anxiety ("anxiousness") or bad nerves get in their way often. Bass boosted, loud volume, headbanging music as it compliments their vigor. 'TYG' from Megan thee Stallion & Spiritbox.

♡⃕ "Cupid bow lips". Bottom lip being plumper than the top; "fuller". Beauty mole(s) on the face or chin, above the mouth too. Using white lip liner or concealer for a signature makeup look ("added touch"). Distinct characteristics pertaining the face; statement piece [earrings, eye makeup, hair accessories].

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Reflection. King of Cups. Knight of Wands↺. Happiness. Queen of Cups. 9oP↺. 4oS [bod].

THE LOVER GIRL IS A HOPELESS ROMANTIC, A PERSON THAT’S ENCOMPASSED TO THE BELIEF OF HAVING [THEIR] TRUE LOVE. "Hopelessly devoted to you," comes to mind, a song that expresses the inner monologue this pile has ["everyday"]. Relationships can become a lifeline, a means of preservation in time of need; love is taken quite seriously, even more so if it's reciprocated. It's attractive to feel appreciated, yearned and cared for by Pile Two's energy; willing to share however many pieces of their heart if it’s necessary.

♰♰♰ Bubbly personality keeps this pile from being detected, the wide smiles and "softly glazed" eyes adds onto innocence. People can sense there's something more, carnal energy that's held from unleashing. I feel that there's Cancerian-Libran placements because the perception of them reminds me of pink bows and sugarplums. Cute, but only because their deviance is hidden ["in plain sight"]. "Naughty Girl" by Beyonce. There's more to them than meets the eye, as it's tempting others to come taste or try (lots of probing one's sexual identity can occur). ♰♰♰ Alchemy is a curated, learned skill and it's Pile Two's way to the Universe. Tumultuous rebirths are recurring, made to "force" them into shape; changing course throughout their journey is attractive. Learning and applying hard lessons in order to receive whatever they wish for. An enigma is how they're perceived, someone that's checked out when they're not immersed in another world. Going through—or "experiencing"—transformations will affect their overall appearance. Erasing an identity from the past, embracing change for a clean slate, shedding skin with hair and clothing. Their presence leaves people's blood rushing.

HIGHLY EMOTIONALLY INTELLIGENT, THEY CAN FIND THEMSELVES LONGING FOR HEIGHTENED SENSE OF AFFECTION IN OTHERS. An emptiness can rest inside them, but it's just because they're familiar with vulnerability; an "open book" if it pertains their feelings, being the only person who gets them. Honesty is a fault, because it allows the truth to be set "free". Human embodiment of the Justice card, their Judgement can sever or repair the lives ("energies") of those around. 222 and 333 are angel numbers that indicate progression in life or to urge use of discernment. "Put themselves first."

♰♰♰ Euphoric essence around their beauty, how it's a gift for their highest form. It's special—a beautiful blessing in physical features. Plush lips, "rosy" undertone(s), pleasant figure and "fleshy" areas (hips, thighs, love handles). Someone that's mesmerizing, the embodiment of Aphrodite's pearl; the birth of beauty. Shapeshifting is likely, as they've earned it with the help from above ("the ethers"). Staying true to what's on the inside and having it bloom on the outside. Dreams in human form. Being noticed [and "adorned"] for their innocence, in personality or facial features. Big, sparkly, animated eyes and "sooty" lashes; resembling Betty Boop; the fattest chipmunk cheeks (can insinuate someone's ass) and so on. ♰♰♰ Intention on Pile Two's end shows up in an authoritative sense, when they insert themselves it's because they're tired of the bullshit. Eerily similar to that of a "headmaster", otherwise strictness is a part of their love language. Coddling will only get someone so far, lol this pile's upfront; blunt, but respectful [simultaneously]. This pile won't allow people to run and duck from their problems, only "showing" the option to face them. Those same people are awakened to their fears, abilities, and unnatural desires; they've been found, truly seen. Making people sit up straight and pay attention; "IDGAF if I was late" ie. no one but Pile Two can check them like this. That spunkiness is a treasure alone, but especially cherished for stemming from "unaltered" independence. Praise and worshipping kinks could be prevalent during encounters.

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴 3oS. Ace of Cups↺. 6oS. King of Pentacles. Death. 7oC [bod].

DISARMING PEOPLE WITH CHARM—ALOOFNESS—REMAINS KEY, A COMPONENT THAT OFFERS THE BEST SURPRISE. Playing coy, twiddling thumbs or tucking hair ("biting it" too), it's a game that this pile wins easily. Nobody expects this from Pile Two, not in the slightest because they're too kind. Gentle and 'maternal', nimble like a baby mouse. On the surface, that is. I'm envisioning the slow drip of a faucet, or the articulation of a cat's paw steps—steady [and deliberate]. This energy reminds me of honey while it drizzles, erotic and warm. This pile's *so* sensual, and it drives a lottttttttt of people insane ("up the walls"). Feline, otherwise 'tactful', energies are present; acquiring or possessing skills in seduction. Mastery in peep shows, teases, and dances for sure. Mastery in peep shows, teases, and dances for sure. "We can't just keep talking about it, I want you to come inside it...I want to get wild" insinuates romantic partners don't want to wait, that they're in the mood anytime they see querent.

♰♰♰ Provocative is the best word for this group, they're able to control a room with little to no motion (unless it's on top <3). Can move mountains, crush stone, with nothing but a toe point; very powerful people. Pheromones alone are even enough, it's the sheer nature of it all, this pile's addictive. They may find that their sexual encounters will include overstimulation or force (i.e. domination) because lovers aren't capable of holding it in. Losing coherency, spiraling in Pile Two's "abyss" ("going the extra mile"). Essentially, lovers that'll believe in the red string theory after just one time together. It shocks anyone that's graced a chance to get in bed, the sexual influence is mind warping. ♰♰♰ Orgasms come super easily ("almost naturally") when given from them. Their technique(s) to have someone cumming are "sensational", soul touching and tear producing (I smell Scorpio and 12H placements lol). Definitely bestowed with the "magic touch"; skills that beckon one's climax forth. The Enchantress. People reach different heights with them, a "new peak"—reborn for existence ["again"]. People have revelations and awakenings in bed with Pile Two, in which can come about in a matter of minutes or after one orgasm (in other words, tread this force of a skill lightly). Obsessive behavior is prone to arise, 99.8% that it will, because people won't get enough. Querents knowledge on ecstasy is beyond teaching, so much that I sense it's spiritual; an "antidote" for those who aren't "well" (i.e. in heat and addicted).

BEING COINED AS 'THE BEST' SOMEONE'S EVER HAD IS TIED DIRECTLY TO BEING WORTH THE CHASE. Not that this group's only good or made for sex, more so being an expert in that department adds to their prestige. It's giving public reputation, one that's good or possibly envied; 10H prominence. King of Pentacles is the emblem of high social standing, respect and utmost value; the spread itself clarifies the admiration of Pile Two from different POVs. May mirror the 'WAG effect', but with them as the celebrity and their partner the wife. Double confirmation for emulating a cat, this is their ownership and haughtiness lmao. Wouldn't be surprised if it was obvious that querents wears ["and buys"] the pants in romantic connections, I even sense being worshipped by choice—love's in a glass case for the public to see. May mirror the "WAG effect", but Pile Two isn't the wife (they're the "breadwinner").

♰♰♰ Physique is coming in similar to Pile One (check it out if called), more pronunciation on the upper half tho. The breasts (chest) are "opulent", so possibly on the fuller cup side or give off an illusion (i.e. being big). "Full moon" is what I'm channeling which gives off that their breasts hold the emphasis on moon; Cancer placements (Sun, Moon, Mars), weightier feel, stretch marks or birthmarks across (or around) them. "Pushup bra", meaning that area is noticeable. Anatomy aside, breasts equate to maternal characteristics. Being domestic, caring for those around them, owning an apartment and a dog—signs that potential partners associate to good parenting. "With child". Breeding and having babies/getting this pile pregnant are major fantasies because they carry the imagery of how a "mother" should be. ♰♰♰ The softest people are in this pile and not just referring to vibes; skin, hair, lips, and legs are reminiscent of warm butter (which can point to glowing). I see the definition of radiance within their regime. Wearing whipped scents and perfumes of dreams, they kiss every room with succulence. A mango of a person, each part of them quenching people's thirst. Softness also indicates being a safe haven, or "stress relief", [a peace of mind] for close connections in their lives. Lol I'm even imagining a stress ball ("magenta"), like querent is a few people's security blanket. Giving out the best hugs and sweetest smile. Nothing overtly sexual, seduction is their aura. Comforting, dependable [with reason], and trustworthy; characteristics that whisper "this is a good person".

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Humorous people, like will make an entire room fold under pressure and BOL. "Practical jokester" and "professional yapper". Dragging people along; "jittery" or full of enthusiasm. Big kid as an adult, could even giggle a "ton". Dimples, smile lines, “eye crinkles” are present. Sun could be in cardinal houses [1H, 4H, 7H, 10H].

♡⃕ Oral, both giving and receiving, is a favorite. Mouths are "heated", almost like steamy hot tub water. Head that's slow and deliberate; "toe curling", "sheet gripping". Keeping a lover in place, holding their legs apart or keeping them pinned [for max pleasure]. Learning new techniques, tricks and "treats" for a five star experience. Pluto could be in cardinal houses [1H, 4H, 7H, 10H].

♡⃕ Feeling the same as “bubblegum” pink, having an aura that’s saturated in sugariness. Pinkalicious (brat); getting their way in love and not having to do much in return. Pink skin after getting spanked, undertones that show "flush". "Sweetest Pie" by Megan thee Stallion & Dua Lipa (similar vibes). Skill in baking or treats ("top notch"), confectionary sugar. Using their goods as [or "for"] a temporary love spell.

♡⃕ Goodhearted with a 'girl/boy next door' quality, would be a TV show's comfort character [otherwise most popular]. Happiness evokes the distinction of the ✨ emoji; "higher frequencies." Eloquence of Disney princesses or princes; "ain't no sunshine when she's gone." Transmuting pain, turning it into better days [or "Good Days" by SZA]. Positive influence, specifically on elders. Singing can be therapeutic and a skill.

♡⃕ Masturbation and alternative self-pleasure tactics can be chronic. Satisfying their needs, practicing affirmative moaning (e.g. moaning out loud and looking in a mirror). Instills confidence with sexuality—revealing clothing, "fiercely" looking makeup (winged liner, "blood" red lips), sexual discipline [on their time]. Can't be tied down, like ever. Has options for different days of the week ("separate occasions"); a playa. Could be Martian (Mars dom).

♡⃕ Maternal instincts and having a knack for domesticity, "family oriented". Dreams of birthing [or raising] children; adopting pets (i.e. owning multiple). Children "flock" to them, feel seen and understood from an adult POV ("trustful"). Dependable to friends. Proficient in babysitting or caretaking the youth; babies and toddlers "favorite person."

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Sadness. the Hermit. Page of Swords. Creativity↺. 7oS↺. Strength. 2oW. 8oS [bod].

BRIGHT DIAMONDS FEEL REVELANT IN COMPARISON TO PILE THREE'S RARITY. On the surface it seems they're forlorn and stoic or repressed and grim. Misunderstood and judged until an opportunity to see all of them arrives; "guarded" but authentic ("100%"). Querents may emulate the solemness in renaissance oil paintings. Given the chance to drop their guard, they'll ease into vulnerability. Not entirely, just enough to witness them relax. It's public knowledge that they're forced to be on [the] edge, and that it's near impossible to get off alone. This pulls people in, as if they're rushing to get closer; want to be querents knight in shining armor. "If I'm worthy enough?" People dream to sought out after this pile's approval, and coming to the realization is sexy.

♰♰♰ Querents of this pile are made of stone. Their energy is immovable, it's not made to crack ["shatter, or break"]. Willow trees make up their intelligence, these are teachers of power (strength and discipline). I see them as "silent, but deadly", as silence ("Hermit mode") is the shield. Saying nothing and knowing it all. Intelligence comes to mind, alluding to mental influence on others. Potential partners could find themselves having an urge to do better; heighten their knowledge, sharpen their skills, complete a craft. Lmao however, Pile Three wouldn't have even told them to go do it, those partners would've done it all by themselves for Pile Three ("just because"). Power is definitely a thriving source here. ♰♰♰ Determinative and empowered, querents are forthcoming regarding goals, ambitions, and accomplishments; success seems to "follow" them, but that's due to it being a source of comfort. Channeling the drive to "succeed" is found in creative or musical pursuits [if not about career]. It's not unheard of that this pile fights to the end of Earth to conquer a triumph (spirit of a warrior). This is perceived seductively as it displays to the world how perseverant they will be; "nothing that can be taken away" because it's what they know how to easily obtain.

THE LYNX WITH A SOLUTION IS HOW THIS PILE IS REPRESENTED TO OTHERS, PLUS ROMANTIC PARTNERS. Unpredictable, braggadocious, reactive, and relentless; characteristics in common as they're shaped from a similar mold. Intuition is a prevalent factor as well, because like a lynx, Pile Three can interpret anyone's energy (i.e. "read the room") and quickly adjust. Watchful gaze and all. Analyzing sceneries has led them into assessment, coined the role of lieutenant. It's prominent for sure, I'm hearing "dictator" as in this is how querents come off. It's "unsettling", but in the way that rolls tingles up your spine. Commanding and directing is attached to them as a personality trait, it's born from their urge to take initiative. Doing things, learning things, attempting things at the drop of a dime and asserting their authority by getting it finished.

♰♰♰ Querents are able to play hot and cold (like the song), inevitably putting people in a box labeled "undetermined"; people don't know where they stand, might not even know how to, just because Pile Three never tells. Like a magician pulling a trick and walking offstage even with the audience unbeknownst to how it worked. "Let me in" is what people scream internally, while jumping through hoops and hell to prove that they're worth the risk. Maximum effort to impress querents, or at the very least get them to "reconsider" dropping their defense. "Lower their expectations", so partners can dream of a real chance. Safe to say that querents are more likely to give "tests" with no thought about reviewing them. ♰♰♰ It's highly plausible that assertion on Pile Three's end is a coverup over their ["raging"] insecurities. Internal, external, mental or physical doubts hide under their reign ("rule"), it's easier for querents to take charge in all areas because they can't control their mind. Before spiraling, before "shutdown" (mass destruction); breathing techniques ("practice") helps level them out when in the midst of breakdowns. Personal lives can be on the brink of crumbling to querents, this is a result of 'unhealthy' home environment(s) as they grew older—interpersonal relationships were likely affected most. Codependency is a result from this unhealed wound ("wounds"), as it feels like something physical will heal the void rather than actual treatment (e.g. therapy). Addiction to sex, substance, work, or gambling is rather prevalent, so seductiveness comes in the form of sinful vices. ♰♰♰ Pile Three was the only group to receive an extra card, which happens to be about making decisions and stepping outside comfort zones [2 of Wands]. I found this interesting considering this pile has trouble taking [and making] leaps of faith, they live by the rule of a schedule (anything outside of that doesn't see light of day fr); someone [according to the number two] could change that. Show them a whole new world outside of expectations, routine, and boredom lmao. What gets querents to open up and breathe for once, that this someone gives them space to register, download, and process; they feel like being alone with the lights off, something Pile Three wouldn't mind sharing with them in real life; "let them in".

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴4oC. the Hanged Woman. 10oP. the Devil. 8oW. Death↺ [bod].

CHAMELEONS MARK QUERENTS ALTERNATE IDENTITY ("SPLIT PERSONALITY"), A SIDE OF THEMSELVES THAT ISN'T COMPOSED AND HIDDEN. It feels like the confines of a private party; hair messy, lips smudged, phone lost but the music keeps jumping. They're spinning round and round, pulling whoever's nearby into their circle. This shows in moments of comfort; setting a mood outside of their walls and head. Enjoying themselves to the max and inviting others to unwind also. It is sexy to loosen up and let your hair down, it's a "birthright" to bask in the moment. An outlook on free will that serene is destined for greatness, others can see it. In the bedroom, Pile Three turns the encounter into hotel service; five star rating from all the guests.

♰♰♰ Dominatrix/Dominant is the intensity I'm feeling, querent has the presence of a god. Everything's gone cold, lights are low and silence is near. "Secretary", E. Edward Gray vibes times ten (I even picture them cracking back an extra long whip). Definitely, definitely, definitelyyyy making people become their little sluts—overworking their existence with their own pleasure (woah :P). Indicates incessant teasing ("edging"), praise or punishment, and submission (mentally, physically). "Silence?" coming in could represent the use of rules, or it can be the calm after their partner's orgasm. Shutting down and regenerating all from Pile Three's conditions [e.g. sensory deprivation and multiple rounds]. It’s sexual Fear Factor, and many would love to play. ♰♰♰ Vanilla lovers are common and likely easily influenced; Pile Three gains the upper hand over others, but it's used to explore their fantasies. "How many licks to turn you out?" hence the overall dynamic of bedroom activity. Degradation when inflicted could dance on the harsher end (e.g. face smacking), but this also says meanness is a raging turn on (both querent and partner).

IT'S PLAUSIBLE THAT PEOPLE ARE SEDUCED DURING SEX, BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THE ENCOUNTER THEY'RE LOSING THEMSELVES JUST TO BE FOUND. Pile Three inhibits the role of a teacher, borderline disciplinarian, but all in the language of tough "love". Essentially, the dominance from them helps their partners with self discovery; helps them develop a newfound confidence in their identity. "Secretary" is coming in again, which isn't surprising since this pile resonates with the movie's theme. The main character, Lee, is a representation of querents spouse throughout their transformation; "on the path to redemption" with their own bodies. Butterflies floating from their cocoons to venture somewhere that's not home—these partners are butterflies once Pile Three travels along their bliss and ecstasy [as in life changing sex ;)].

♰♰♰ Oh, this the pile into wrapping their bedroom partners in rope or fluffy black cuffs; into withholding sweet relief when they have to cum. I'm hearing "soft", which alludes to a gentler side emerging whenever it's time to tie someone up [or implement use of bondage]. Fondness develops once Pile Three leans into this dynamic of rewards for submission; partners light up at the dualism because it reminds them that they're "loved" (i.e. cared for). ♰♰♰ Pile One had significant messages revolving around querents voice, and it's the same for Pile Three. Going off the downloads about demand and control, what's specifically seductive is hearing them speak; giving "instructions", whispering little nothings, essentially melting people's eardrums with word salad. Lol, it reminds me of how certain celebrities are urged to read audiobooks. It's erotic, but it's even better when it's meant for one person ("partner") to hear. I'm also channeling the use of querents voice, in the sense that they're vocalists in bed: "do it like that", "stay there", "i'm so close", "you feel that", etc. They're in [no way] afraid to praise or chide how their experience feels, dissatisfaction isn't an answer.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Victimization, "prone to experiencing projection." People pushing ideas onto their persona, not accepting querents for who they actually are. Black sheep ["of friends"]. Edgelord (traits). Pluto in 1H, 2H, or 3H. Sun could be in a water sign [Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces] and in 6H.

♡⃕ High profile, appearance is that of a model. "Diamond face"; head shape is acute, sharpened and definitive (e.g. strong jawline). Cheekbones accentuated with contour and highlighter "blush". Straight or "queen" shaped brows. Scorpio in Moon, Venus, or Mars.

♡⃕ Talking and letting it "all out" during sexual encounters. Directing people how they want—need* to be pleased. Definitely talks someone through it; softly whispering the filthiest shit ever lol. Stern and direct. Influence is in their "reasonings", natural convos imitate public speeches ("PSAs"). Presence that'd do wonders in a governmental field (the Pentagon, CIA, secret service). Mercury in 8H, 12H, conjunct IC (4H).

♡⃕ Rolling Stone' by the Weeknd reflects their inner thoughts ("monologue"). Missing people [or a person] that doesn't exist; lonely by ["a"] fault. Stoners, "being stoned" from troubles, using escapism as defense. Caged bird, but an escape isn't near (false). Father Time [Saturn] gifts them wisdom with maturity; development is their "greatest" friend. Meditative yoga, journaling, or music ground them tremendously.

♡⃕ 333; individuals that're lucky, "blessed by Jupiter." Purple aura, royal like mindset. Abundance in material possessions, large amounts that fall through when least expected. "Lumpsums" and it's a new car. Good karma surrounding finances, regime, and knowledge [seemingly 6H]. Could know friends who know "friends" [business opportunities, success]. "Hustlers."

♡⃕ Major Aquarian traits; innovative, intelligent, "indescribable." Could "LOL" a lot, they're likely to be cackling. Incorporates "spectacles" in everyday fashion (sunglasses, reading glasses, fun patterned glasses). Accessories that stand out like their music; multi-genre playlists that's all their taste. Into fruit smoothies or Greek yogurt. "Unconventional" (lifestyle).

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL⟶ 🎴 Creativity. 4oP. 5oP. Rest. 2oW↺. Ace of Pentacles↺. 6oP [bod].

THE CONNECTION TO THIS PILE WAS INSTANTANEOUS, MEANING QUERENTS ARE "TRANQUIL" IN SPIRIT, FLUID IN ENERGY. Pile Four's essence reminds me of coconut trees in Hawaii, leaves fluttering from the warmest of breezes; "tropical island" but in the form of their inner self. Child of the seas. Water nymph in her prime, having a beautiful voice is within this comparison; lessons will develop the clarity of their singing, "choir like" vocals. Aromatherapies could soothe disruptions querents face, scent itself is a huge part of their presence period. "Musk", "gourmand"; smelling delectable, but with an added hint of spice (e.g. cinnamon base). I'm downloading wafts of vanilla, caramel, cotton candy, and chocolate. A guilty pleasure, otherwise delightful to those that can't get a taste ["even tho they want to so bad"].

♰♰♰ Eyes are the most seductive feature of this pile, like the amount of pressure ("pleasure") people get after locking eyes is immense as hell. Naturally intense, resembling that of a tiger's—narrowed and penetrating. "Big ego". Sexiness can be found within their pupils, a tenacious gleam once it's turned on. Transformations are recurring here and partly because Pile Four chooses who they want to "be", slipping on a mask as if they're dressing for the part. "Which era am I stepping into today?" I'm channeling the planet Pluto, so there could dominant or prominent influence in the chart; querents have much passion hidden behind those irises and it hooks people. ♰♰♰ Charitable, generous beings reside within; attention is focused on Pile Four's desires to donate or give back. Not only partners, but people will generally find that level of empathy to be attractive. Humble and rich, whether that's in material assets or spiritual abundance, querents aren't hesitant to share. Pentacles are associated to wealth, so income is especially prominent; "big bank", accumulating revenue through their purposefulness. Humanitarianism is beloved from Pile Four because it's seen as genuine ("from the heart"). Forewarning to repress any sign of bragging, boasting, or full out greed since these are funds tied to karma; Saturn is the driving force because it's all hard earned and deserved, but he won't allow them to forget where they came from. Good behavior equals no testing trials or lessons, we want to keep it that way lol.

ENDEARMENT FROM THE COLLECTIVE WILL BE APPARENT; PEOPLE FIND IT QUITE DIFFICULT TO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH PILE FOUR. I believe it's their truth and honesty, because they're undoubtedly the peacemaker for a *lot* of people's situations ("shortcomings"). "You've got a friend in me", meaning querents don't bash, they just expect better. Respect blooms once bathed in that light, it's "justified" (i.e. deserved). Honoring an opinion or perspective from this pile, because it's "essential for growth". Sun conjunct [or "trine"] Mercury or MC only emphasizes this air of importance. Utilizing communication and publicly speaking will be a part of this pile's rite of passage lol, definitely meant to be heard out loud (e.g. fighting for rights as a career). Also, raising awareness for a specific subject ("sensitive", controversial) will be a focal point regarding their presence in society—trailblazers.

♰♰♰ Personally, I'd be wary of the people this pile's around because some people are attracted to their sadness. With ill intention this is obviously weird, but harmless attraction would just be someone wanting to "save" Pile Four. Since they're one with inner power, it seems that nothing can shake their stability until it does. It's arousing when querents are in need because they usually never are; never asking for help, won't accept it neither [at least to anyone around that knows firsthand]. It's giving "the damsel's *finally* in distress", like people would leap in front of traffic if it meant they'd get to Pile Four first. Ngl, the other end of this spectrum is very loud—witch hunt vibes, as in "enemies" are literally praying to see querents suffer. Could be prominent later in life, but regardless I felt called to insert a message. Oddly, it's higher ups (bosses, managers) harboring this level of resentment; threatened by Pile Four's strength and potential [to succeed]. Be extremely cautious when at work (or in a workspace), I sense sabotage and framing ("accidents") when we know the real. ♰♰♰ While listening to music, I found myself coming across two separate versions of the same song; one was better than the other, which led me to believe that Pile Four experiences (or "will experience") copycatting and comparison from others. Specifically, partners or suitors who're in committed relationships and fail to keep querents out their fantasies. "Do it better" is being channeled, which also reminds me of being validated for something special ["that no one else has"]. Not to promote infidelity or being someone's sidepiece, but the favoritism isn't really being hidden lmao. This pile must be invested in spirituality or at the very least into the law of "what goes around comes around", because they're not tempted by any bait. They remember who karma is and how she operates, I don't picture them dipping into people's relationships for harmful doing at all. Using someone to their advantage, yes, but allowing themselves to come second place when someone's already first, hard pass.

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴Knight of Wands. 8oC. the Emperor. 6oP. King of Swords. the Fool [bod].

DISCOVERING THAT THERE'S ANOTHER SIDE TO SOMEONE SECLUDED IS SUCH A HOT LITTLE SECRET, AND PILE FIVE'S IN ON IT ("DEVIANCY"). Seduction is their strip tease, a dance where each turn and grind is another piece of clothing on the floor. It's as if the quiet island essence drowned beneath heavy passion and eroticism. "Drenched." For some, private encounters ["at night"] could be a habitual pastime, a "hobby". Stress reliever it is, and partners will find joy in being the outlet. Enamor is found at the base of sexual encounters, as in partners find themselves "sinking" into querents love [let alone fall].

♰♰♰ The card spread is a telltale significator of being a freak, definitely needing someone who can "match it" all the same. Like the signs are signing, from the Fool (openness in sexual ideas) at the bottom of the deck to the eroticism that surrounds (encloses) me. I feel that loyalty and trust are the keys to Pile Five's sexual shop. Think those 18+ Instagram posts that're like, "I look innocent, but for that one person I'm the opposite." Querents are a personification of that energy, they're hard to read [sexually] unless someone's intentions say differently. Roleplaying could be a kink that's enjoyable, especially in a maid's outfit or "teacher student" attire; the effects of role reversal instill stability and confidence in their romantic relationships. ♰♰♰ King of Swords came through and despite not having an actual place in the spread, the card came with a download about Pile Four's ability to "take it". Be it longer length of a dick/dildo, nonstop orgasms, or multiple rounds—they're handling everything like a pro ;). "Extremely commendable." People's mouths are going to drop and hang open just from witnessing the durability in person, "making it disappear" isn't common. I'll even insert anal, just because it fits the bill in this context (taboo doesn't exist).

SCENTS HAVE WAFTED TO THE SEXUAL SIDE, PUTTING EMPHASIS ON THE "SMELL" OF DESIRE. Smelling lovely, carrying an ambience of rose petals and candlelight. I've compared another pile to being an aphrodisiac and it also applies to querents; pheromones cloud and permeate the senses of partners, keeps them strung ["on what they're going to have"]. It's telling how drawn in they are, I see them hanging around Pile Four like flies to fresh fruit. Nobody likes to let go, in turn encouraging themselves to stay; "know I gotta leave, but I want to stay." Hearts growing fonder no matter the distance. Selena Quintanilla's presence and aura to the collective, and how that light is missed everyday—Pile Four.

♰♰♰ Naturalness is liberation to querents, their body hair isn't shunned or shamed. "Carefree". Bushes are attractive to not only them, but their lovers as well. It's the normalcy of two people bonding in bed, I think it's a ["stress"] relief to turn off being perfect just to be human. Feels bohemian in the sense of living by the choice; inspiring body positivity. Innocent, but it's attractive enough that partners want to "go down" more frequently ;P. It just adds more uumph to an encounter. ♰♰♰ There's a specific person that came in, someone who devotes ("dotes") their happiness on Pile Four's satisfaction (*for some*). Regardless, I'm channeling messages about foot massages and bathtubs ["together"]; "extreme" TLC after passionate sessions; chocolates fed to them, etc. Romcom acts of service, sweet nothings and dates as long as they're treating querents (i.e. together). Whoever this energy belongs to, they're practically marriage material [and a munch].

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Tons of fame indicators, querents could find themselves in the public eye once this lifetime. Skepticism around their authenticity, and if they're "cut out" for the scrutiny (otherwise backlash). Nitpicking about appearance being "too hot" and "sexy". Wild and famous. Sun (“conjunct Mercury”) or Lilith could be in 10H. Could have personal planets or placements in Capricorn or Libra [i.e. Saturn ruled].

♡⃕ "Eye catching" type of beauty. Attractivity resembles that of a model, influencer, or "guru"; gorgeous ass people. Androgynous features (well balanced between masc and fem energies). Exhibits the cut and value ("grace") of pink white diamonds. Could be Venusian [Rising, Moon, and Venus in Libra].

♡⃕ Virgin, practicing celibacy, or abstinence; haven't had penetrative sex "yet". Staying to themselves, rejecting new partners (flings), respect around the body. "Not letting anyone touch." Body isn't a joking matter, taken very seriously. Potential health scares [or "hospital visits"]. Prone to sending, posting, or saving nude pics.

♡⃕ Expensive jewels in their favorite pieces of jewelry; never seen without it [necklace, bracelet, “pendant”]. Red rubies or emeralds could have significance (e.g. birth stone, parent’s name etc.). People see them as “luxurious”. Debbie Jellinksy in ‘Addams Family Values’. Spoiled babies, but not without reason. Bargainers [“and deals”]. Jealous themes regarding fashion, beauty, and influence (themselves included).

♡⃕ Going into hiding, "Hermit mode" for a soul cleanse (refresher). Transformative as hell. Disappearing for months at a time just to reappear a "new" person; even more beautiful, "collected", and better than before. Unrecognizable (in a good way). "Money Longer" by Lil Uzi Vert. Pluto dominant, their ability to shed skin and birth anew is apparent ("respected"). Noticed in *every* room they've ever stepped in ("blessing and a curse").

♡⃕ Free the oppressed (“Palestine” and more); boycotting message, either to start or continue. Stop drinking coffee from Starbucks, it’s being frowned upon [“spiritual guidance”], people's lives are at stake. They’re important—they matter.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Abundance↺. Knight of Wands↺. the Magician. Rejection↺. Ace of Swords. the Star. Knight of Cups↺ [bod].

PILE FIVE'S PRESENCE IS ILLUMINATED BY THEIR OUTER PROMINENCE, THEIR "STAR" SHINE (HENCE THE STAR CARD). I've noticed that all five piles have this certain glow to their energies, their personalities can revive a dark room. In this instance, Pile Five's personality is what's alluringly magnetic, it's "seduction" at its truest form. Envision if a person wanted to build their lover, they'd pick characteristics from querents admirabilities. "Sensuous" and amicable, somehow much more than expected (alongside individual uniqueness). Adept with an artistic approach, querents bestow fine talents—performing onstage (i.e. singing, dancing), creative writing, interior or fashion design, etc. Makes them exceptionally special, more so in the public eye; "starstruck". "Nice & Slow" can allude to querents steadiness in attaining their goals, taking the long route for lasting (rewarding) results.

♰♰♰ Embodying traits of people's ideal person (i.e. "perfection") is one of the main factors of being seduced; reminding them that humans aren't one dimensional, that we're made up of universal qualities. Humor would be the best example, because it's not a requirement to be with someone funny, until you realize that you love to laugh. Pile Five has this natural likeliness, they're able to be relatable without coming off as a flake ("try hard"); they're a breath of fresh air, a "relief". Youthfulness is a key factor as well, subtle mannerisms and expressions that thump through people's hearts; "twinkling eyes" and sweet smiles. The wonder in querents eyes is especially prominent, everyone notices at first glance. Literally the Star card, lighting up the nighttime. ♰♰♰ I envision this pile having many friends, being the favorite person in a lot of people's lives. A bestfriend, even to passing strangers. I'm hearing "polly pocket", which says people don't ["ever"] want to outgrow playing with Pile Five. (i.e. spend time with them). Spilling secrets, getting/giving advice, and trusting forever comes with this pile's care package lol; they're the sun for someone else's rainy day ("a confidant"). All above is the answer to "what's so beautiful about them?" Inner beauty is perceived to be felt "by all". Beautiful generosity is what I'm hearing, so querents hospitality is noteworthy. Getting-people-awestruck energy.

QUERENTS DEMEANOR DANCES ALONG THE LINES OF BEING RESERVED AND STRICT. BEING DEFINITIVE IS THE BETTER WORD, THEY'RE APT TO EARNESTY. If Virgo placements are present then this level of poise comes effortlessly, it's a part of them. Primitive and prestigious, people find these attributes to be "fascinating". Miranda Priestly from "the Devil Wears Prada" is who I visualize Pile Five to be; attentiveness to detail, pristine image from successes, a name upheld by its holder. Her character struts with diligence and strives for the greatest opportunities (it's in querents presence). Not letting up on a goal and seeing it to the end draws everyone in; "making shit happen" with devotion catches everyone's attention (enamoring).

♰♰♰ Getting feisty and excessive cussing is a part of querents likability; "randomness" in their words or expressionism. Lol "loudmouthing" is coming in, so they're bound to going off in the heat of moment ["or any time of day"]. The wheel generator (unexpectedness) of their speech is their bat signal, but especially when they're feeling mean. People may project weakness onto this pile—not taking them seriously—until it's their turn to get told off ("caught in the crossfire"). Harmless until they detonate :P, people are reminded that Pile Five has two separate sides. ♰♰♰ Their facial features are accentuated for luring (attracting) attention "wherever they are"; recognition for how irresistible they look to other people. Characteristics of an "angel", plump (cherubic) cheeks or apple like cheekbones. Highlighter serves them well, makes their appearance "radiant", can resemble the Sun. Broad shoulders, toned calves, or a built figure; seduction in their flex, or in moments where they're on display (e.g. in a swimsuit). I see them invoking the spirit of a Taurus [bull] and arousing tenaciousness in lovers. If it was possible to do, someone would paint Pile Five's face to hang in the Louvre.

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴8oC↺. 10oP↺. Ace of Swords. the Lovers. Page of Pentacles. Queen of Cups [bod].

HAVING AN EFFECTS OF HEAVY DRUGS WOULD BE AN IDEAL REFERENCE TO PILE FIVE’S SEDUCTIVENESS. All it takes is just one dose, because right after that is when the addiction begins (i.e. obsessive lovers). It's not uncommon for this group to attract internet watchers or stalkers, otherwise past partners that don't want to leave them alone; "can't get enough" of their love, aimlessly wondering if Pile Five's wondering too. "Made for everyone", as in "one taste and you're whipped". Don't be afraid to indulge, especially if it's the best you'll ever get. The pile that got away for a lot of past lovers [111, 1111 is significant].

♰♰♰ Wetness and fluids are big with querents, the first thing I channeled was "water fountain" (cream). It's making me giggle, because private areas can be seen as a "problem" from producing so much liquid. This can indicate "magic" genitals, private parts sprinkled in glitter. Orgasms from this pile are the "gift that keeps on giving", like people's self-worth (value) end up skyrocketing lol. "Heaven sent" plus the gift of pleasure leaves the impression of God's angel on others. Breeding or ["multiple"] creampies as a kink, because lovers find themselves absorbing the excess ("wanting it all", if you catch my drift..). Water is heavy [throughout the spread] which confirms many messy situations ;). ♰♰♰ Lips, lips, lips: kissing and feeling them is an experience, a solidified moment in anyone's lives if they're granted the chance. Pile Five's kisses (mouth in general) is an escape, a getaway the promised land ["of ecstasy"]. Kisses are delectable, tasting dessert-esque (sugary, savory). Flavors of peppermint or "candy" is prominent, otherwise satiating the desire. Also, the red lips on Sabrina's cover art gives me the idea of being kissed all over; the body, face, and "soul". A level of expertise this high means Pile Five is [or will be] a lot of people's "first"; love, orgasm, or fulfilling relationship. I don't believe there's anything about them that won't get someone turned on and yearning.

AS IT'S BEEN SO POTENT, PILE FIVE'S ACCESS TO A HIGHER SOURCE OF POWER IS GRATIFYING; DIVINITY LIES WITHIN BED, IT'S AN AWAKENING OUTSIDE OF THE BODY. Sex is inherently spiritual, because to partners the encounter isn't "of this Earth". To me, I envision it as beams of light poking (pouring) through the mind and spirit of whoever's with this pile, essentially aligning physical pleasure to mental (i.e. their psyche) bliss. That's to say, any form of sex is tantric and transcendental. People will be taken aback (at first), but that's due to the encounter being as sacred as it is; the intention (or "practice") is too important to interrupt before it begins.

♰♰♰ It's hard to not claim this pile as being perfect, but omg the downloads just validate the sentiment. There's not one hair on querents body that isn't adorned and appreciated, this reigns even more true if they're in a committed connection (i.e. special person). No matter how they envision themselves, to the collective their existence is "exalted" and favored. Skin could even glow during and after sex, because they're so cherished; "everything they think they aren't" is debunked at their most vulnerable (nakedness). Laving on their sensitive spots (legs, thighs, feet) is a token of gratitude from lovers, it'll happen frequently considering how devoted to Pile Five they'll be. ♰♰♰ This is coming in so intensely, querents have the mouth of an oral [sex] god. Nothing short of a munch, they leave marks with their tongue or throat; pulling people into their utopia (i.e. ecstasy). Ecstasy is recurring word for this pile, hence being compared to a drug, an indicator for sex that's "numbing". During head, partners are bound to throw their heads ["and hands"] upwards. The pressure of being sucked into the void is "stilling", the calm before a ravage storm. Lmao, they get people stuck with their mouths on 'o'. Minds on cloud nine, limbs so light from relaxation they "could float"—blown. This pile is made up of lovers that give and give, until they can't give anymore. It's as if oral is a "souvenir", an experience meant to be collected forever more.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ "Ironheart"; has the courage of the [cowardly] lion, bravery is learned (earned). Lightning strike(s) of a person, turns heads and charges surroundings with their intensity; energy is incomparable. Uranus could be a part of big three [Sun, Moon, Rising], Uranus dominant or in 1H/2H. Authors (writing can "revitalize" people, give them a wakeup call).

♡⃕ Connected to their highest form ("truest self"), receives messages through [or "from"] the Universe. Alienlike; "not of this Earth." What's on the inside (soul) reflects what's on their "face" (e.g. feeling good internally so they're extra smiley in person). Balanced. "Sacral chakra" alignment is a godsend for sex [can top or ride well]. Stomach is people's favorite part; birthmark, belly piercing, tattoo(s) above the waist.

♡⃕Insecurities are a part of them; "stories" about overcoming disappointment. Secretive to a fault ("can hold water" forever). Believes in trust and exposing what's on the inside—"bareface" (might also be more present at their "rawest"). Holds the key to the world (i.e. everyone's secrets). Consciousness. Lmao, fucking with them is a spiritual ass whooping full of drawbacks [and lessons]. Powerful ancestors (spirit team).

♡⃕ "Thank you" is their passage to life. Grateful for the smallest and largest things; "tearing up" over sentiments. Type to thank their lover for giving them orgasms ["submissive"]. "Soothing" voices; can converse or "rock" anyone to sleep (comforting). Cancer placements could be prominent [Sun, Moon, Venus][Lunarian].

♡⃕ "Bed Chem" by Sabrina Carpenter, might be "short and sweet". Emulates the energy of a little person ("smol"). Hair can be long, full and thick too [great for tugging, wrapping, or "pulling" in bed]. Cocoon, people don't want [them] to leave. Rich and "domestic" (motherly) singing voice. People like (love) to hear them whisper [Mercurial].

♡⃕ Artistic (artists at heart); creativity is all they know, all they breathe. Life path number 3/4, 5m [artistry]. Would do well onstage, might've experienced Broadway, could dream of visiting ("talent"). Pleasers (they're really submissive); lovers give them "everything" (i.e. drowning in ecstasy). Devotion is a personality trait. Pisces could be a part of their big six [Sun, Moon, Rising, Mercury, Venus, Mars][Neptunian].

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

© BITDEMONIC 2024

[xoluvx]

opposites; b.eilish x reader x s.carpenter

smut

they couldn't have been more different even if they tried. one with baggy clothes and beanies. the other with too tight dresses and bows in her hair. both so insanely hot, it was difficult to comprehend how.

how was it possible that you were attracted to both? you were down bad. any touch. any word they uttered had you in a puddle. you could hardly contain yourself when you were around them. they stirred feelings in you that you couldn't begin to understand or process or articulate. your brain was pure mush whenever either of them interacted with you.

always separately. never in the same room. it was like they were mirages almost. you constantly wondered if they existed in the same world.

so on that fateful night when you saw the blonde laughing and rolling her eyes leaning into the brunette, every fiber of your body reacted instantly. it felt like a chemical reaction that burned in all the right places.

billie motioned with her hand calling you over. the party was loud but the crowd was manageable as you made your way over. you were shaking. every thought in your brain clouded your senses. how was it possible for your two crushes to be together?

"hi," sabrina beamed wrapping her arms around your body when you finally stood in front of them unsure of who to greet first.

"hey pretty girl," billie smiled flirtatiously wrapping an arm around your waist hugging you only slightly. you could feel her face near your cheek. you were already so flushed it physically hurt to be in such close proximity to her skin.

"you two know each other?" you asked glancing between the two bodies in awe as if this was the most unpredictable duo. the cheesiest trope of 'opposites attract' was playing in your head because that's what they were. that's what it looked like when you looked at billie with her bare face and sabrina with her shimmery highlight.

"we talk about you all the time," sabrina teased. her laugh contagious as billie joined in a soft chuckle. her lips parted when you made eye contact with her and it's like everything stopped moving.

"oh my god i love this song," sabrina squealed cutting the conversation short as she took your hand leading you to the dance floor. it wasn't much of a dance floor but the bodies swaying to the music served as a comforting shield when your bodies started moving. you hadn't realized billie was following close behind until her body brushed yours and the electrifying feeling coursed through your body again causing your breath the grow ragged.

sabrina took your hands lifting them as she moved her hips so seductively that you were about to combust in the middle of the dance floor. she looked at you with a smirk as she turned and pressed her back on your body. her hands grabbed yours wrapping them around her waist as she moved to the music blaring. you were absolutely frozen. your heart was beating at an abnormal rate.

then you felt a pair of hands on your own waist. billie. she was moving behind you now. body close to yours. her face near your neck. her breathing soft and warm against your skin. you shut your eyes overwhelmed. oh my god. you were totally going to melt into the floor if it weren't for the fact that her hands were now trailing yours until she held you in an embrace; engulfing both you and sabrina.

what the actual fuck was happening right now? you couldn't breathe. you'd forgotten how to. you were lightheaded and the thoughts running through your head were so corrupt. so filthy that when sabrina laid her head back against your shoulder you absentmindedly nuzzled your face into her neck and you could've planted your lips on her bare shoulder if it weren't for the voice snapping you out of your trance.

"let's get out of here," billie called out.

those were the last words exchanged before your bodies were stumbling into sabrina's house. you're not sure how you'd come to the decision. in all honesty, you hadn't thought of anything else apart from the two girls riding at the front of the car while you sat in the back holding your breath.

when you were in her house, your hands intertwined as sabrina led you down the hall. it felt like the longest walk of your life as billie followed behind. her hand on the small of your back. it was the smallest little things that were creating the biggest ripple in the pit of your stomach. your heart was caught in your throat. what the fuck was happening and why did you like it so much?

"how about you get comfortable?" sabrina asked closing the door behind her. your eyes wandered to billie who was removing her jacket letting it fall on the edge of the bed. swallowing you glanced at sabrina who was removing her earrings.

were you about to get fucked by billie and sabrina? .. and why were they being so normal about it? like they'd done this before. like they'd come to a silent agreement when they first laid eyes on you.

'we talk about you all the time.'

the words came flooding back as sabrina turned her back to you.

"can you-" she motioned to her neck.

"-take it off, please?" she asked tilting her head to the side. you gulped. hands shaky as they reached for the halter top. you undid the buttons. fumbling with the neckline. her skin so shimmery and smooth as the silky material fell down her body.

a small gasp escaped your parted lips when you noticed the small black thong clinging to her perfectly round ass. oh god. she was standing in front of you in only her thong.

"take this off," billie whispered behind you. her voice so low and seductive urging you to undress. you leaned into her letting her voice consume you. letting her fingers hook under the straps of your dress sliding them down so slowly you were forgetting how to breathe. the feeling of her fingers on your skin made your insides flutter. you closed your eyes getting lost in the moment.

unaware of sabrina coming down to her knees. the touch of her hands on your ankle undoing the strap of your heels urged your eyes to open. your lips parted. her delicate hands removing your shoes. you dropped a few inches. feet relaxing, you almost moaned.

"let us take care of you," billie whispered wrapping her arm around your torso. flames on your skin from her touch. sabrina's hands were now traveling up your calves. eyes so big and doe like when you looked down at her.

"please," you huffed surrendering every ounce of doubt, not that there was much to begin with. you wanted them. so bad. you wanted billie. you wanted sabrina. you never thought you'd be able to have both. at the same time.

"good girl," sabrina cooed and there was something so satisfying about hearing those words come out of her pretty lips and seeing her at your feet with an expression that was yelling 'fuck me' while simultaneously holding a power over you that was so strong. a power that lured you straight to that bed. flat on your back. waiting for the hottest women alive to totally destroy you.

"wanna do the honors?" billie motioned towards your body turning to sabrina who was pursing her lips and holding her hands on her hips. she smirked when she heard billie's question and approached you. as she moved towards you, she peeled off the pasties she was wearing and you moaned when you saw her rosy nipples. you moved your hips as you propped your body up with your elbows.

she walked so slowly. hands running up your thighs as she slid onto the bed. she planted her knees on either side of your body hovering over you, touching your thighs but not quite lowering herself. you were so desperate you bucked your hips. she gasped almost toppling over and you grabbed her hips steading her.

a very naked billie was approaching your bodies. you hadn't noticed when she'd removed her clothes, but oh god she looked heavenly. you were in the presence of two angels and you were about to walk through the gates of heaven.

billie came up behind sabrina. her fingers delicately removed the black bow that held her hair in place. her blonde tendrils cascaded down her shoulders as she looked down at you. hair framing her pretty face as she finally caved and swayed her hips on yours. you were hyperventilating. hands gripping her hips.

the sweetest little sounds fell from her parted lips as she watched you closely. hands on either side of your head. hips moving gloriously watching the way you struggled to breathe. she brought her hand down to your bra tugging at the fabric trying to free your breasts.

the mattress sunk besides you as billie made her presence known. her hand cupped your cheek turning you to face her. she clung to your skin. eyes piercing into your soul as the blonde moved on top of you. her fingers laced through billie's hair pushing her closer to your face until your lips were brushing. she held her in place until your mouths were open engulfing each other in a heated kiss. tongues swirling. chest rising as sabrina cupped your breasts only increasing the pace of her movements and the heat between your legs.

when she loosened her grip on billie's hair. the brunette ran her hands down your neck until they were on your breasts. with a single pinch of your nipple, you were crying out lifting your chest. sabrina slithered off your body laying next to you. her hand running down the side of your thigh until you were opening your legs inviting her to touch you.

"sit on her face," billie snarled looking at the blonde who was lying down besides you like a siren. you pouted just as her hand was reaching your clothed pussy. without hesitation, sabrina lifted her hips sliding off her underwear.

you were breathing heavy with anticipation. everything was moving so fast yet impossibly slow as she planted herself over your face. you caught a quick glance of billie who was sliding between your legs. her index fingers hooking in your underwear pulling them down at a painfully slow rate.

when sabrina lowered herself on your face, billie's tongue ran between your folds. the feeling was blinding and you moaned against her cunt sending her into a fit of whimpers when your tongue haphazardly lapped her pussy.

you felt billie between your thighs. her arms cupping your legs. tongue finding your clit sending you into a fit of moans so quickly you could hardly wrap your head around the different sensations. the blonde sitting on your face. the brunette between your legs. you held sabrina's thighs as you devoured her pussy. she swayed her hips holding her arms up to hold her hair exposing her back to billie who was busy eating you like the last super.

her nose was pressed against your pussy. her tongue dipping into your cunt eliciting a string of incoherent moans. then her fingers replaced her tongue and you were whimpering under her touch. pussy so tight you were clenching around her fingers already. so fucking close to the point of no return. her lips wrapped around your clit sucking so gently as her fingers fucked you so roughly.

your nails dug into sabrina's thighs as she clung to your head swaying her hips searching for her own high.

billie was quick. before you could unravel, she was holding your legs open lowering her body on to yours so your pussies were making contact. you were already so sensitive you clung to sabrina's ass trying to muffle your desperate cries against her sweet pussy. that is until billie started moving. swaying her hips. grinding on your pussy. you gasped for air suffocating between sabrina's thighs.

billie wrapped an arm around the blonde, holding her up as she convulsed, hovering over your face. you were choking for air. reaching down to grab a hold of billie's other hand. something. anything to get your through this rattling feeling. you were rapidly being filled to the brim and you could no longer contain it.

you were going to explode. you were going to cum with a beautiful blonde still hovering over your face and a brunette doming you like you'd never been before.

you didn't want to it end. they were opposites, sure. so unlike anything you'd seen before. they didn't make sense together, but you when you were in the mix it all fell into place.

diaween 2024 💜

[liz-on-leash]

Live To Breed

[Commissioned]

VIVIZ SinB/Hwang Eunbi

Gangrape, Mentioned Death, BBC Tribesmen, Breeding, A Lot Of Cum, Vaginal Fuck, Anal, Pregnant Fuck, Some Other Heavy Stuff.

3,919 Word.

The day started like any other for VIVIZ, but shit was about to hit the fan in the most fucked-up way possible. SinB, the feisty one, Eunha, and sweet Umji were bouncing around in their jeep, deep in the heart of the African jungle, looking for some thrill.

The girls were living their best lives, laughing and joking, when all hell broke loose. A freaking stampede came outta nowhere, like some shit from a horror movie. The driver hit the brakes, but it was a lost cause. 

The jeep went flying, and SinB went airborne, straight into a goddamn tree. Her clothes ripped like wet tissue paper, and she was left bruised and bleeding, screaming her lungs out.

"FUUUUCK!" SinB howled in agony, her voice raw as a guttural scream. Her sexy outfit was in shreds, exposing her smooth skin, now marked with scratches and cuts that would make a horror flick proud. 

She tried to get her ass up, but her body was like jelly, trembling and weak. Where the hell were Eunha and Umji? She cried out for them, her voice fading in the vast jungle.

The jungle, usually buzzing with life, went dead quiet, like it was mourning the crazy shit that just went down. SinB's pleas for help bounced off the trees, her voice cracking with each desperate call. 

The pain was a bitch, clouding her vision, but she fought to stay conscious, refusing to black out. As the sun started its slow descent, painting the sky with fiery colors, a crew of hulking dudes appeared, straight out of a tribal wet dream. 

These motherfuckers were ripped, their dark skin glistening with sweat, and all they wore were tiny-ass loincloths that left nothing to the imagination. Their bodies were inked up with tribal tats, and their eyes held a wild intensity.

SinB's mouth hung open as she took in the sight, momentarily forgetting her pain. These dudes were built like gods, and their sheer size made her feel like a tiny doll. 

They muttered to each other in some ancient tongue, their deep voices rumbling like thunder, probably discussing the hot mess of a woman in front of them.

"Help... please, help me," SinB managed to whisper, her voice scratchy and weak. The men's eyes narrowed, their gazes intense enough to burn holes through her. 

They didn't give a shit about her plea, probably thinking she was some crazy jungle spirit. The biggest dude among them strode over, his muscles flexing with each step. He scooped SinB up like she weighed nothing, causing her to whimper.

This beast of a man carried her through the jungle like she was his prize catch. SinB's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar sights of their camp. It was like a scene from a National Geographic documentary, with buff dudes going about their business, their bodies glistening with sweat and dirt.

These savages didn't waste time with pleasantries. They ripped what was left of SinB's clothes, leaving her in her skimpy underwear, her curves on full display. 

She tried to cover up, but these guys didn't give a damn about modesty. They cleaned her wounds, their rough hands exploring her body, and wrapped her up with some dirty-ass cloth.

"Fuck off!" SinB tried to fight, but it was like a kitten swatting at a lion. A sharp slap landed on her face. "Ugh!" She tasted blood, her lip split open. Another jab to her ribs had her gasping, reminding her just how helpless she was.

The men finished patching her up and shoved some weird-ass herbal shit down her throat. SinB choked and spluttered, her eyes watering from the bitter taste. 

Satisfied, two of them grabbed her, ignoring her weak struggles, and hauled her ass to a nearby barn. Inside, it was like a damn dungeon, filled with terrified women from different corners of the world.

The women were a sorry sight, some crying their eyes out, others moaning in pain, their bellies swollen with pregnancy. SinB's heart hammered in her chest as she realized she'd landed in some tribal sex cult's lair. She tried to scream, but her voice was shot.

Just then, all hell broke loose outside. A group of the tribal dudes, their massive cocks swinging free, dragged a screaming woman outta the camp. Her pleas were met with laughter and crude catcalls.

The men's laughter was like a sick chorus, their eyes wild with lust. SinB's blurry vision focused on their massive dicks, already hard as steel, ready to invade some poor woman's body.

The men wasted no time, and the woman's screams echoed through the camp, a haunting soundtrack to the night's twisted festivities. SinB's eyes fluttered, her mind overwhelmed by the day's events. 

The last thing she saw before passing out was the terrified faces of the captive women, knowing their fate was about to get a whole lot worse.

The night had turned into a fucked-up, twisted sex fest, and SinB was front-row center for this sick tribal ritual. Her eyes popped open as the barn erupted with screams and moans.

The women, who were once crying their eyes out, were now getting pounded by these tribal beasts, their cries echoing like a damn horror movie.

"Oh fuck, mercy, please! No more!" a woman begged, her voice raw from screaming her lungs out. But the men just kept pounding her from every angle, their dark, sweaty bodies slamming into her like wild animals.

"Harder, you motherfuckers! Break me in half!" another chick screamed, her body bucking as two dudes took turns drilling her, their cocks stretching her holes like she was some damn sex toy. 

The scene was brutal, but damn, it was hot as hell. Even the preggo ladies weren't off-limits.

"No, not my ass! My baby... oh, fuck, no!" a pregnant woman wailed, her eyes rolling back as a dude hammered her ass, not giving a damn about her swollen belly. The sight was enough to make SinB's stomach churn.

SinB's eyes were like saucers, taking in the savage display of raw, animalistic fucking. Her body ached to run, but she might as well have been glued to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but it was like trying to escape a pack of hungry wolves.

"Please, just let me go, you bastards!" SinB's voice was raspy, barely a whisper.

These dudes weren't having any of it. They grabbed her like she was their personal plaything. One dude chuckled, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

They pinned her down, their rough hands holding her arms and legs, spreading her wide open like a buffet. SinB screamed and kicked, but it only made these animals harder.

"Let me go, you animals! Help!" SinB's pleas were desperate, but they just laughed, their eyes wild with lust.

The dude on top of her, his cock already hard as steel, ripped her panties off like they were nothing. "No, stop! Get your hands off me!" SinB shouted, her voice breaking as he groped her tits, squeezing and twisting her sensitive nipples until she saw stars.

Pissed off by her resistance, the dude stood up and stomped on her stomach, making her gag and cough. Before SinB could catch her breath, another dude was on top of her, his thick cock aiming straight for her mouth.

SinB's eyes widened as his cock invaded her, stretching her jaws to the max. This dude was packing an anaconda, and it hit the back of her throat, making her gag and choke.

He grunted, face-fucking her like a pro. SinB's throat bulged, moving up and down, her eyes watering, snot and spit flying as he pounded her face. Another dude cheered, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a mark.

The dude pounding her face went to town, his balls slapping against her chin, making her gag and choke some more. SinB's body shook, her bound hands clawing at the dirt, her throat working overtime to take that massive cock.

He growled, his hips slamming into her aching throat. SinB's eyes rolled back, tears mixing with the spit and snot as she struggled to breathe. Her throat was on fire, but this dude wasn't letting up, his cock throbbing, ready to unload his cum down her throat.

The barn had become a twisted, hardcore sex dungeon, where SinB's screams and the other women's cries were the soundtrack to a night of brutal, non-stop gangrape.

The tribal black men were on a roll, and SinB's mouth was their fuck toy. These motherfuckers took turns shoving their thick, veiny cocks down her throat, face-fucking her like she was their personal cum dumpster. 

SinB choked and gagged, her eyes watering like a waterfall as she tried to take their massive cocks. One guy gripped her hair like a leash as he pounded her face. SinB's throat was getting fucked raw, her gag reflex going crazy, but these animals just kept going harder.

Another guy shouted, slapping her face with his thick palm. SinB's cheeks stung, but he didn't give a shit as he jammed his cock down her throat, making her eyes bulge like a cartoon.

"Can't... breathe!" SinB managed to gasp between the thrusts, her voice muffled and desperate. But these savages just laughed, their rough hands holding her head like a pet, forcing her to take their cocks.

One after another, they blasted their hot cum down her throat, making her swallow their seed like it was her job. SinB's belly was swelling, her throat on fire, and she felt like she was gonna puke her guts out.

"No more... gonna puke!" she whimpered, her eyes pleading for mercy but a hard slap landed on her cheek, making her see stars.

One man growled, grabbing her hair and forcing her mouth open for his throbbing cock. SinB gagged, her throat convulsing as he face-fucked her with zero fucks given.

These native men were all about getting their rocks off, and they didn't care about her comfort. Some even used her hands and thighs to jerk off, covering her skin with their hot, sticky loads. SinB's body was a mess, covered in sweat, cum, and bruises.

The barn was a horror show, with women's screams and moans filling the air. SinB's eyes darted around, witnessing shit that would give her nightmares for life.

"Help... I'm pregnant! Have mercy!" a woman begged, her belly shook as two men double-battered her pussy and ass. The poor chick was screaming, but they just kept pounding until she went quiet, her body limp and her holes bleeding.

A man grunted, his cock buried deep in the ass of a woman who was clearly out cold. SinB watched in horror as he pumped away, not giving a damn about the blood or the fact that she wasn't even conscious.

“No, no, no– Oh god!" another woman cried, her body arched and bruised as three huge black men took turns violating her. Her screams turned to whines, then silence as the pain overwhelmed her.

SinB's throat was on fire, and her stomach felt like it was gonna explode from all the cum she'd been forced to swallow. When a cock finally pulled out of her mouth, she puked, spewing a mix of cum and bile.

"Fuck— argh, can't swallow anymore!" she begged. But they didn't give a shit. A sharp slap landed on her mouth, making her eyes water.

A man barked, grabbing her hair and shoving his cock back in her mouth. SinB gagged and choked, her throat working achingly to take his thickness as he fucked her face with no mercy. These tribesmen made sure to mark her as their territory. 

They flooded her mouth, on her body, and even made her lick their balls. SinB's body trembled in disgust, her throat and mouth abused, but they just kept going, their cocks throbbing and unloading their semen wherever they pleased. 

Time had lost all meaning for SinB as the assault on her mouth continued. These tribal studs had been using her face as their personal cum dump for hours, forcing her to swallow load after load, even as she puked it all up. 

Her stomach felt like it was gonna burst, her belly swollen and hard, a testament to the endless cumshots she'd been forced to take.

SinB's body was a mess, her once flawless skin now glistening with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. 

Her lips were swollen and bruised, gaping open as if they'd forgotten how to close, and her throat was on fire, like she'd swallowed a flaming blade. She couldn't feel her face anymore; it was just a numb, throbbing mess.

Her curvy body had gone limp, her arms splayed out on the dirty ground, but the men held her head up, ensuring her mouth was always available for their pleasure, cocks sliding down her throat, making her gag and choke, her eyes rolling back in her head.

SinB's mind was fuzzy, her body exhausted, but the men showed no signs of stopping. Her throat was so fucked, it felt like a permanent part of their cocks was lodged in there. She couldn't even swallow her own spit without pain.

As another thick release was forced down her throat, SinB's body went into overdrive. She convulsed, her eyes rolling back, and for a moment, she thought she was gonna pass out. The man finally pulled out, letting her fall to the ground like a ragdoll.

SinB gasped for air, her body twitching uncontrollably, her throat and mouth leaking cum and saliva. She lay there, unable to move, her eyes pleading for this nightmare to end. The men, however, seemed to be just getting started.

They stood around her, stroking their hard cocks, their eyes wild with lust as they discussed their next move. SinB prayed for death, for the sweet release of unconsciousness, but the gods weren't listening.

Suddenly, a massive man stepped on her swollen stomach, making her cry out in pain. He twisted his foot, and SinB's body betrayed her, spewing cum and pee, her throat and pussy leaking like broken faucets.

"Oh god– fucking hurts…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The man just laughed, his deep voice echoing in her ears. He then grabbed her ankles, dragging her out of the barn, away from the screams of the other tortured women.

SinB's heart sank as she realized this was far from over. She was being dragged to the center of the camp, where a crowd of over fifty tribal men awaited, their bodies naked and glistening with some ritual oil.

"No… just kill me," SinB mumbled, her voice weak and defeated. She wanted this torture to end, but the men had other plans. The idol's worst fears were about to be realized as the tribe prepared for a night of depraved rituals.

SinB was done fighting, her body limp as a rag doll as the men chained her up like a sacrificial lamb in the middle of this tribal orgy. They tossed her onto the wooden platform, her stomach heaving, causing her to spew out the cum she'd swallowed earlier.

The men were quick to secure her, chaining her wrists and neck, ensuring she was their helpless plaything. Her curvy body was on full display, the torchlight highlighting every inch of her skin.

A dude with a lean build grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him as he poured some weird-ass green liquid down her throat. It was some tribal shit to keep her awake and ready for their sick games. SinB gagged on the bitter taste, but at this point, she was beyond caring.

The crowd went wild as the first man stepped into the spotlight, his cock so big it swung between his legs like a damn pendulum. This dude was a fuckin' beast, and he was about to tear SinB a new one.

He crouched down, his hands gripping her soft hips like they were made for him. He lifted her ass, positioning her on her knees, showcasing her plump, round cheeks. The motherfucker poured oil on her ass, his touch making her tremble.

SinB's ass was a sight to behold, and this dude knew it. He massaged the oil into her skin, his thick-ass thumb getting dangerously close to her tight hole. With a deliberate move, he pushed his thumb into her asshole, making her scream like a banshee.

"Fuck! Stop, you bastard!" SinB cursed, her body going rigid as she felt her ass being stretched beyond its limits. The dude's thumb worked her hole, making her scream and beg, her struggles against the chains useless.

The pain was off the charts, her ass on fire as he finger-fucked her, preparing her for the main event. SinB twisted and turned, her body a mess of desperation, but the dude held her hips like a vice.

Before she knew it, his thumb was out, and his massive cock was at her entrance, ready to breach her tight hole. With one brutal thrust, he impaled her ass, making her eyes roll back.

"Ahhhh, fuck! It's too big! It's splitting me— it's in my guts!" SinB screamed, her voice shaking. 

His cock was a monster, tearing through her sphincter like it was nothing. She felt it stretching her insides, poking places no cock should go.

The man held her hips, his cock buried balls-deep, and started pounding her ass like it was a punching bag. SinB's body jolted with each thrust, her pee spraying out as her bladder broken.

The crowd went nuts, their cheers filling the air as the man brutalized her ass, his cock owning her with each brutal stroke. SinB's screams were music to their ears.

The big dude was merciless, slamming his cock into SinB's ass like a jackhammer, her body taking the full force. Her legs were straight, toes pointed, as she endured the sensation of being impaled, her asshole stretched to its limits. It felt like she was trying to poop out a watermelon, but it just kept going deeper.

SinB's eyes were rolled back, her mouth hanging open, drool dripping down her chin as she groaned and whimpered. Her pale tits scraped against the rough wood with each jerking motion. 

The man grunted like a wild animal, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock even deeper. SinB's ass clenched around him, milking his cock as he pounded her hole. 

The pleasure was too much, with a few more deep thrusts, he exploded inside her, his hot cum filling her ass. He pulled out, his cock glistening with lube and cum, leaving SinB's ass gaping and sore. 

She collapsed onto the platform, her body trembling, unable to move or speak. But there was no respite for the idol.

Another tall, muscular guy stepped up, his cock already slick with oil. He knelt behind her, slapping her leaking pussy, making her jerk and whimper. SinB knew the routine by now, and she bit her lip, bracing herself for the incoming invasion.

A few men gathered around her head, their cocks in hand, stroking and getting off on the sight of her oily, abused body. One dude even stepped on her head, his foot pressing down as he admired the show.

The man behind her positioned his thick cockhead at her pussy lips, teasing her entrance. SinB's body tensed, anticipating the pain. With a slow gesture, he pushed inside, making her moan and arch her back.

"Ahh, shit, shit— My pussy, uhhh!" SinB cried out as his swollen tip popped through her tight pussy lips, stretching her beyond her limits right away. Her pussy clenched around his cock, resisting the invasion, but he kept forcing his way in, inch by inch.

The man was tenacious, his cock a battering ram, pushing past her resistant flesh. SinB screamed and shook, her body a mess of pain as he yanked her onto his cock, burying it deep in her pussy.

Her pee sprayed around his girth, an indication of the intensity of the insertion. The men laughed, their eyes wild with unsatiated lust as the man kept punching her inner walls, his cock slamming against her cervix with each thrust. 

The sudden pleasure was intense, causing SinB's body to tremble and convulse, her pussy clenching around his cock as she climaxed, her juices flowing and mixing with his. But the pleasure was short-lived as his cock kept pounding, hitting her cervix with lethal impact, causing searing pain.

"Ahhh! Fuck, stop!" SinB cried, her body arching off the platform as the man lost control, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. Blood trickled down her thighs as her pussy was torn and ravaged, the pain almost unbearable.

The man was in a trance, his cock throbbing as he emptied his load deep inside her, breeding her pussy with his cum. He pulled out, his cock glistening with her juices and blood, leaving SinB's pussy gaping and sore.

The men weren't done with her yet. They forced her to drink more of their herbal drugs, keeping her conscious. They even splashed water on her, cleaning the blood and dirt from her body, their rough hands scrubbing her skin.

SinB's body was chained tighter, her wrists and neck secured, ensuring she couldn't escape the breeding that awaited her. More tribesmen lined up, their cocks hard and ready to take over her abused holes.

Day after day, the ritual continued, with over 60 men taking their turns with her every single day. They raped her solo, double-penetrated her, and even tried triple penetration, stretching - tearing her holes beyond their limits. SinB's screams and moans were a constant soundtrack in the camp.

The only sustenance she received was their cum, fed to her by force, enough to keep her alive and fertile for their breeding games. Her memories of her past life as an idol faded, replaced by the constant sensation of huge cocks filling her sore, aching holes.

For weeks, SinB's disappearance was headline news in South Korea. The authorities found Eunha and Umji's bodies, but SinB remained a mystery. Little did they know, she was deep in the African jungle, being bred by a tribe of men.

Weeks turned into a blur for SinB, her body now permanently marked by the tribe's ownership. Her once flat stomach now sported a slight bulge, a result of the countless times she'd been bred. 

The men had moved her to the barn, where she joined the ranks of other pregnant women, all awaiting the birth of their tribal offspring.

SinB was on all fours, a leash around her neck, her body of stretch marks and bruises. Two tribesmen stood beside her, their rough hands massaging her swollen breasts, tugging at her nipples until milk squirted into a bucket, proof of her fertility - the only reason that kept her alive.

Behind her, a group of men took turns with her ass, their cocks pounding her hole to stimulate her milk production. Her pussy, already dripping with cum from the men who had just used her, was a constant reminder of her fate.

The once vibrant K-pop idol was gone, replaced by a shell of a woman, her body a vessel for the tribe's pleasure and procreation. 

SinB's mind was a haze, her memories of her past life fading with each brutal fucking. She was now a breeding machine, her body existing solely to produce the next generation of this unknown tribe.

[favefandomimagines]

The Alchemy (j.m)

Request: @mrslestappen “May I request ( shy!Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank ) pleaseeeeee, where she has been friends with the boys just like Kie, (Kie, her and Sarah were the trio of friends) and after they reconciled she is super happy because she has her two best friends back. And let's just say JJ has a soft spot for her, even though she's a kook he's always taken care of her. And they have matching necklaces (the shark tooth one, let's just say that when he got his he also created hers and they have always had matching necklaces) + kind of obsessed with her (in a nice way) and let's say because she's always been with the guys she's never really been in a relationship so imagine the reaction JJ would have if she tells him she wants him to be her first kiss (first kiss is soft, second one is hot/possesive poor JJ will devour her, because only he knows how long he waited) and the rest I'll leave it up to you. (In my head this sounded better sorry)”

Summary: she always was going to pick him, he just needed to show her.

JJ Maybank didn't think he'd ever like a Kook. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever even tolerate one. The Kooks were the people who had everything he and the other Pogues didn’t.

They were the rich kids on the other side of the island, the ones with trust funds, yachts, and pristine lives. JJ had seen enough of their type to last a lifetime, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

Except for her.

Her name was Y/N Y/L/N, and she was the only Kook JJ had ever been able to stomach. In fact, he more than just "stomached" her — he adored her.

He couldn't remember when it started, but he was pretty sure it was around the time he realized girls were more than just annoying distractions during surf sessions.

Somewhere between scraped knees on the beach as kids and sharing late-night bonfire confessions, Y/N had become more than just his friend.

She wasn’t like the rest of the Kooks. Y/N might have lived in one of the fanciest houses on Figure Eight, but she didn’t act like it. She hung out with JJ, John B, and Pope since they were kids, running wild through the marshes and crashing parties on the Cut.

Her mom used to be close with John B’s mom before she left, which meant Y/N spent almost as much time in the Chateau as John B himself. She was their bridge between worlds, best friends with Kie and, surprisingly, even got along with Sarah Cameron after their recent reconciliation.

JJ had given her a shark tooth necklace that matched his own back when they were kids, and she had worn it ever since. The necklace was a symbol, a quiet testament to their shared adventures and secrets.

It rested just below her collarbone, a constant reminder that she belonged with the Pogues, even if she didn’t entirely fit into their world.

For the most part, JJ was content just having her around. But sometimes, like right now, with the sun setting over the water and Y/N laughing at something John B had said, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest that he wanted more. More than just her friendship, more than just stolen glances and the occasional accidental brush of hands.

||

It was one of those hot, sticky Outer Banks afternoons when Y/N came to find him. JJ was at the dock, cleaning up the HMS Pogue, when he saw her walking toward him. She looked like sunshine personified, with her long hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling as if she held the secrets of the universe.

“Hey, JJ,” she greeted, her voice light and carefree, but there was something nervous in the way she bit her lip.

“What’s up, Princess?” he asked, straightening up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers toying with the shark tooth necklace he had given her. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something.”

JJ’s heart sank a little, the teasing grin on his face faltering. Usually, that phrase meant bad news. “What did you do this time? Burn down another country club?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but laughed. “No, JJ, not this time. It’s… it’s about a guy.”

JJ froze. “A guy?” he echoed, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath him.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice softening. “I… I got asked out on a date.”

JJ’s stomach dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He’d always known this day would come eventually, but he wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt. “Who?” he managed to ask, trying to keep his voice steady.

“His name’s Trevor. He’s new in town, just moved here from Wilmington,” she explained, her eyes flicking to JJ’s face to gauge his reaction.

He knew the guy — tall, dark hair, probably some rich Kook kid whose family had money to burn. JJ felt the jealousy bubble up, hot and fierce. “And when’s this date supposed to happen?”

“Tomorrow night,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The girl he’d been in love with for years was going on a date with some random guy who had just waltzed into town. “Do you even like this dude?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, looking genuinely conflicted. “But… what if he tries to kiss me?”

JJ’s jaw clenched. “Then tell him to back off,” he snapped, his temper flaring.

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s not that simple, JJ. I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

The admission hung in the air between them, and JJ felt his heart stutter. Y/N, the girl who could light up a room with just her smile, had never had her first kiss. It was almost unfathomable. He swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the tidal wave of emotions crashing over him.

“Y/N…” he began, not sure what to say.

“I know it’s dumb,” she said quickly, looking down at her feet. “But I don’t want to mess it up. What if I’m terrible at it?”

He wanted to laugh because there was no way in hell she’d be bad at anything. “Are you seriously asking me for kissing advice?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Actually… I was hoping you could… you know… be my first kiss.”

JJ’s mind went blank. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the idea that the girl he’d been crazy about for years was asking him to be her first kiss. But not because she wanted him in that way — no, it was just so she wouldn’t screw up with some other guy.

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked, his voice a low rasp.

She nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “I trust you, JJ. I know you won’t make it weird.”

Too late for that, he thought bitterly. But he couldn’t say no to her, not when she was looking at him like that. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But if I’m gonna be your first kiss, I’m not gonna half-ass it.”

Her eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she took a step closer to him.

They stood on the dock, the sun casting golden light over the water. JJ’s heart was pounding in his chest as Y/N moved even closer, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He could see the nervous flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted just slightly.

“Just… close your eyes, okay?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotions he couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips trembling ever so slightly. JJ took a deep breath, his hand moving up to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.

Then, with a tenderness he didn’t even know he was capable of, JJ leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft, gentle, the kind of kiss that could be over in the blink of an eye if you weren’t careful. But for JJ, it felt like the world had stopped. Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the way her fingers clutched at his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, their eyes locked.

“How was that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp.

Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “That was… perfect,” she whispered. But then, as if realizing herself, she shook her head. “But maybe… one more time? Just to make sure I’ve got it?”

JJ’s breath hitched. This time, he didn’t hold back. He kissed her again, harder, more desperate, like he was trying to pour every unsaid word and unspoken feeling into that kiss. His hands cupped her face, Y/N melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair, and he was lost. He was completely and utterly lost in her.

When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for air. JJ rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face. “Don’t go on that date, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his. And then she smiled, that beautiful, sunlit smile that he loved so much. “Yeah… I think I need to cancel that date,” she said softly.

||

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Pogues found out. Kie was ecstatic, practically tackling Y/N in a hug when she found out, while John B just grinned knowingly. Pope was the most surprised, but even he seemed happy for them.

“Finally!” Kie exclaimed, throwing her arms around JJ and Y/N “I was wondering how long it would take you two to figure it out.”

JJ just grinned, pulling Y/N close to his side. “Better late than never, right?”

The group celebrated their newfound relationship with a bonfire at the beach, laughter and music filling the night air. JJ couldn’t keep his hands off Y/N, whether it was holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. He’d spent so long wanting this, and now that he had it, he wasn’t letting go.

As the night drew to a close, JJ pulled Y/N aside, away from the others. “I’m glad you picked me,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “I always would have picked you, JJ. I just needed you to show me first.”

He kissed her again, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that felt like coming home. And for the first time in his life, JJ Maybank felt like he had everything he ever wanted.

The waves crashed around them, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other. The Pogues cheered in the background, but JJ didn’t hear any of it.

All he could focus on was the girl in his arms, the girl who had always been more than just a Kook, more than just a friend. She was everything.

And she was his.

[talesof-old]

handle it | a.s., h.l.r., g.c.

pairing(s): poly!batboys x fem!eader

warning(s): 18+, smut, couples arguing, teasing, piv sex, handjobs (f receiving), oral (m receiving), reader has a vagina and is referred to by her/she, reader is called pretty girl, men being annoying and protective/possessive, if you squint there’s wing play, i did not proofread or edit because for some reason this put me in a slump, i think that’s all

word count: 1.7k

a/n: sorry this took me so long i was strugglinggg so it does end kind of abruptly

masterlist

poly!batboys + smut, angst + happy ending

“For the last time, you will not tell me I can’t go.”

Azriel barked a hoarse, humorless laugh, his eyes cold as he looked down at you. Gone were the days of training at Windhaven, children playing war as the world fell apart. No, now Rhys was High Lord, and you were a long way from the mountains you once called home.

“I’m in charge of this mission. What I say goes. And you are not going.”

Throwing your arms up in exasperation, you catch a glimpse of Cassian’s amused expression and Rhysand’s impassive face. They knew better than to get between the two of you. Azriel’s barely contained rage that settled just beneath his skin could burn hot at any given moment, and you were a formidable opponent that even your battle seasoned superiors knew better than to rile.

“You’re staying here.”

You whirled around, face nearly coming into contact with Azriel’s hard chest. Your wings flared.

“Rhys has the final say. I’m going.”

Violet eyes flickered between the two of you, one side of his lips quirking up in a smirk as Rhys shrugged. Anger flared in your chest. There was no reason for him not to side with you. You’d proven yourself over and over again, earned your place just as much as they had. It wasn’t fair.

“Rhys, I swear on the Mother-“ Rhys shook his head, silencing Azriel as he moved. Cassian followed after him, both quick to leave you two alone.

“Figure this out between you. We’re not getting involved.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as the door shut behind them; the silence that followed was deafening. His shadows darted out and away from him, only to return to curl around his body like they couldn’t decide whether to comfort you or their master. It would’ve been comical, really, if Azriel’s sharp eyes weren’t burning holes into your forehead. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” Azriel didn’t say a word as you walked out the room.

Dinner was not a pleasant affair. Mor picked up on the tension between the shadowsinger and you with a simple glance, and it seemed to only agitate you further. Territorial fae bastards, the lot of them.

“We still set for that shopping trip on Saturday?” Mor’s honey voice filled your ears and you allowed yourself to smile. At the end of the table, Azriel sat stiff as a board, barely touching the food on his plate.

“Of course, I still need something for Dawn’s ball.”

She nodded, sipping her wine as she contemplated. You raised a brow. There was something mischievous in her eyes as she spoke next.

“I hear Caius was asking after you.” Shadows exploded across the room, darting out to weave through your hair and urge you towards their source. You narrowed your eyes at Mor who simply threw her head back and laughed. Amren scoffed over her glass.

“Az.” At Rhys’ firm tone, the shadows were reeled back in, and light filled the room once more.

“We’re leaving. I’ll keep you both updated.” A warm hand clasped yours and then all of a sudden you were in Rhys’ bedroom, perched on the edge of his bed. You turned to the partner in question.

What the fuck?

Rhys chuckled in your mind.

I thought you two would’ve sorted this out.

You rolled your eyes at that, turning to flop onto the bed, wings draped over your body. Rhys rested a hand on your lower back, shivers crawling up your spine as he massaged your tailbone.

He’s a possessive prick.

Rhys laughed out loud this time, trailing his hand over your backside. You preened under his touch, twisting to stretch out like a cat and smiling over at him softly. A grunt sounded from behind you. Rhys glanced over, sending an image to you.

Cassian and Azriel (the former having already removed half of his clothes), lip locked and tugging hard at each other’s bodies. Heat pooled in between your thighs and you turned to raise a brow at your companion. He smirked. In a blink, he was hovering over your body, chest pressed against your left side. You tilted your head upwards, pressing your lips against his. He moved slowly, pressing you down as he swiped a tongue over your lips. Rhys’ palm moved to cup your arse, rubbing your clothed cunt against the bulge in his pants. You sighed as you melted into his touch.

A broken moan drew you away from your High Lord.

You turned your head, pupils blown wide with lust as Cassian manhandled Azriel, tugging at his short hair and biting the exposed skin of his neck. Rhys laid back, hauling you up to rest on top of him. He helped you straddle him.

Someone hit the wall behind you, choking on a groan. You grinned as Rhys pulled you into him, licking a stripe up your throat.

“You’re both fully capable of resolving your issues, hm? Isn’t that what you said the last time?” You let out a long suffering sigh and gripped Rhysand’s hair.

“Don’t be a dick.”

He trailed light fingers up your sides, the sensation dulled by the fabrics covering your skin. Teasing touches turned rough as you rolled your hips. You smiled sweetly.

Behind you, the bed dipped as your two lovers joined you.

Cassian’s rough hands gripped your hips, careful of the wings you now arched high. Azriel settled against the pillows next to Rhysand, watching you with half-lidded, dark eyes. You maintained eye contact with the shadowsinger, grabbing Cassian’s hand and slipping it into your loose fitted pants. He cupped your mound, urging you to grind against his palm. You did so, head falling back as the roughness of his skin dragged against your lips and clit. He let you use him, your chest heaving as you rode yourself to climax. Your legs shook, upheld only by Rhys’ hands.

Rhysand took to leaning forward and nipping at the skin of your sensitive neck. He grinned as you keened, cunt clenching onto nothing as you tumbled over the edge. You fell against Cassian as your blood rushed through your ears. He chuckled, ignoring the way you jolted when your wings made contact with his frame.

Your body trembled following your orgasm, blissfully warm but not entirely relaxed. Azriel grunted as Rhys cupped his bulge. Your eyes flashed to his, annoyance still eating at your gut.

“Come on, pretty girl. Don’t be like that.” Cassian mouthed at the juncture of your neck and shoulders, sucking hard. You moaned softly, writhing against him as he massaged your breasts.

“Lovely, isn’t she?” Rhysand’s low voice sounded from beside Azriel. He huffed, abdomen muscles tense as the High Lord slipped a hand into his trousers. He pumped his cock, running a gentle hand over his slit and laughing when he hissed.

“You managed to piss her off pretty bad. Wonder what you’ll have to do to make it up.” Heat rushed to Azriel’s face. You watched with rapt attention, eyelashes fluttering as Cassian stripped you of your top to expose your breasts. You shivered at the sudden chill.

“Will she let you touch her?”

Azriel clenched his hands into fists, all but tucking them underneath his thighs. You giggled. Looks like he wanted to be tested tonight.

“Rhys.” You purred.

He whipped his head towards you at the sound of your voice, his name dripping with lust. You wriggled your ass against Cassian’s dick and tugged on Rhysand’s shirt.

He was on you in an instant, mouth hot against yours as Cassian pulled down your trousers and underwear. He was quick to line himself up your cunt and slowly sink in, leaning forward to press kisses to your upper back as you moaned. Rhys swallowed the sounds all too willingly.

As Cassian bottomed out, Rhys tugged down his own pants, situating himself right by your mouth. You lowered yourself onto your elbows, a soft whine leaving you as the angle changed how deep Cassian was within you. Rhysand grabbed a handful of your hair and guided your mouth to his cock. He grunted when your lips wrapped around the reddening skin.

Cassian pulled half-way out of you, giving an experimental thrust. Your eyes fluttered shut. He was slow with it, setting a lazy pace to keep you from climaxing too soon. You shivered as one of his hands grazed the inner part of your wings. Molten heat burned between your hips.

With a practiced tongue and a few well timed sucks, Rhys was pulsing in your mouth, balls drawn tight. His head was thrown back, moans tumbling from his lips in a way that would’ve had you grinning. Cassian kept his sensual pace.

You hollowed out your cheeks, gagging as Rhysand’s cock hit the back of your throat. He choked on a moan, halfway through cooing at the tears on your cheeks when his orgasm tore through him. He shook; beside him, Azriel trembled with need.

You swallowed his cum greedily, humming. Rhys jerked. You pulled off of him with a pop, grinning like a madman.

“Wicked thing.”

You shrugged, arching your back to meet Cassian’s thrusts. One of his large hands splayed across the bottom of your curved spine, the other coming around your waist to toy with your clit. You spasmed against him.

A low chuckle sounded through the room.

“Be careful tonight, we’ve all got a mission tomorrow.” Even in the midst of your pleasure, your head jerked towards Azriel. He wore an expression half resigned, half lustful. You reached for him with one hand, balancing on your right, fingers trembling. A moment ticked by. He moved, graceful as a panther, and tugged you to him. Cassian groaned as you involuntarily clenched around him. He pulled out of you, letting you splay across the shadowsinger’s front.

“You’re really giving in?”

Azriel’s sigh was answer enough, but he responded with a simple, “Yes.”

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his chin. The ache between your thighs was desperate for attention, however, so you moved to straddle his hips.

Much to the displeasure of your two other lovers, the words “You’re mine for the rest of the night,” were what left your mouth. Azriel leaned back.

“Show me you can handle it.”

+++