#that was the highlight of the lesson for me

[therandomfandomme]

We're all going feral over the whole "Mercy? Mercy?" which is so valid of us, but the way mercy comes back as a theme in this final saga is really interesting to me, because before this, Odysseus is asked for mercy, for forgiveness:

"Old king, our leader is dead

You've destroyed the serpent's head

Now the rest of us are no longer a threat

Old king, forgive us instead

So that no more blood is shed

Let's have open arms instead"

"No"

He has become Poseidon, the one that first forced him into believing that mercy isn't something he can afford ("Look what you turned me into"), which is made doubly poignant with Eurymachus echoing the open arms of Polites ("Greet the world with open arms"). Now I'm not saying he should have forgiven the suitors for what they were planning on doing, however, this interaction directly informs this one later:

"Throw down those weapons

And I ensure you'll be spared"

"After seeing what the king will do to us

We wouldn't dare"

Because Odysseus doesn't show mercy to Eurymachus, Melanthius doesn't want to take the risk when Telemachus extends mercy to them, which then leads to the starting interaction.

When extending mercy and creating a kinder world is discussed again, it's by Athena. She is the original god, who pushed him towards a lack of mercy, who found that a warrior of the mind is one that showed not mercy and Odysseus believed her during the war, even threw a baby of a roof about it, and it wasn't until after that he rebelled her teachings only to be forced into it by other gods (Poseidon and Zeus most specifically). To which this is said:

"If that world exists, it's far away from here

It's one I'll have to miss, for it's far beyond my years

You might live forever, so you can make it be

But I've got one endeavor, there's a girl I have to see"

"Very well"

"Father, she's waiting for you"

I especially want to highlight that Odysseus says it is beyond his years. He has become that monster and he can't undo that in the years he still has. If this is to happen, then it must be the future generations that Athena has to influence to make that world. Having her reply to that getting interrupted by Telemachus is very purposeful to me. Because he does still extend mercy, he is the new warrior she trained and she trained him differently because her belief changed.

But I also think having her show Odysseus her face with the lightning scar as she agrees is very telling. When she pushed Odysseus to be ruthless she had not been on the other end of no mercy, which is what makes Odysseus turn against her ("Unlikе you, every time someone dies I'm left to deal with the strain"). She now has been on the other side of it by the hands of someone Odysseus also faced and they were both shown the same lack of mercy. For Odysseus that was his final turning point where he chose no mercy, while Athena did chose mercy.

And in the end, she did get some mercy from Zeus in response from it. Zeus also learned from her, from the lesson Odysseus taught her, which was taught to him by Polites. And that mercy gets paid forward allowing Odysseus to get home (yes, I'm emotional about Polites helping Odysseus get home in the end). Almost every time mercy is shown, his journey progresses (Lotus eaters, Aeolous, Circe, Zeus).

Athena has been through not receiving mercy, but she still believes, is still working towards that future. And while she accepts Odysseus words about him being beyond such a world, she doesn't agree with him. Her reply feels more like accepting a dismissal rather than an agreement. And Telemachus shows up as a reminder that she is more correct than Odysseus in this, and he leads them into Penelope.

God, I love Penelope. With her, Odysseus tells someone yet again that he has changed ("I am not your kind and gentle husband") and that he would understand if she did not love him anymore. And then we get this banger:

"Only my husband knew that

So I guess that makes him you"

Penelope shows him mercy in this. She has asked him what he has done and she is given the option to not want him anymore after hearing about the monster he's turned into, but she doesn't. She forgives him. He asks for forgiveness and she grants it. That is mercy.

Not only that, but she also affirms that he is still him. The usage of husband here is important to me, because he says he's not her husband, who was gentle and kind, and she tells him that he is. He believes him beyond that world where people are empathetic and kind, but the roots of that world he created in Ithaca and with Athena allow him to come home. He isn't a monster beyond redemption, he is also a part of that kinder world, regardless of what he has done.

And then you have the music echo the Just a Man melody when Odysseus sings:

"I'm just a man who's trying to go home

Even after all the years away from what I’ve known

I'm just a man who's fighting for his life

Deep down I would trade the world to see my son and wife

I'm just a man"

He is brought back to who he was when he was still just a man, before he became a monster. He did trade the world to see his son and wife and that makes him just a man.

The whole musical asks the question when a man becomes a monster and I think while it is never explicitly answered, that the answer is: when he isn't shown mercy. And that by showing someone mercy, you can reverse that. That it isn't permanent. I really love the moral question of mercy vs. ruthlessness in that Epic has, so it was really interesting to see how it came back in the end :D

[corvusblackk]

- A lesson from Lord Leviathan -

i’ve always disliked the idea of being just average, blending in with the crowd and being “mid”, but Lord Leviathan taught me that perfection is unattainable as a human. striving for it can only lead to setting impossible standards, pushing yourself to limits that even if reached will never bring true satisfaction. to me, perfection exists only in higher plans of existence, for example the pure 5th dimension, where we are free from the confines of our bodies and minds. there, detached from thought and limiting beliefs, we can experience true freedom. so the key is to accept your own humanity and not exhaust yourself chasing an ideal. and most important (he highlighted this) if you can love yourself, that’s more than enough.

[nocreativityfornames]

"..." - Lucifer, for the majority of lesson 21.

[seldompathic]

I really shouldn't listen to Snapcube when I draw

[tweeterwilbury]

There are catedhrals everywhere for those with eyes to see

testimony by Robbie Robertson (2016)// Lily, Rosemare and the Jack of Hearts by Bob Dylan (1975)//You're gonna make me lonesome when you go by Bob Dylan(1975)//Bob Dylan about Robbie Robertson (circa 1966)//Tangled up in Blue by Bob Dylan (1975)

[sapienthouse]

lt. cmdr. nella daren immediately became my favorite one-off tng character from her first scene she's so fantastic... i was worried the whole time they were gonna force some interpersonal conflict to make her the bad guy or just straight kill her off, and im so glad that didn't happen. as far as ending one-off relationships goes, thats abt the best i could hope for for her character. she gets to live on as a passionate stellar cartographer and musician, being an absolute delight to anyone who understands her like i do 🫀🫀🫀

[jondrettegirls]

hi i was wondering where u found translations of euripides’ plays by anne carson?? like if u have them as pdfs or anything!! :)

!!!! there’s this pdf of carson’s an oresteia, which includes “orestes” by euripides !! unfortunately i couldn’t find a pdf of grief lessons which is the other anne carson euripides’ stuff i’ve read :(( but posting this in case someone else has one!!

[thestarmaker]

It's a shame owl city hasn't put out anything new in like ten years. But ending on the ultraviolet ep means he at least went out on a good note. Too bad nothing came of that ep

[tyrannuspitch]

i literally cannot emphasise enough how much loki is just some random guy. yes, of course, he has done terrible things, but he isn't in any way more inherently predisposed to evil than anyone else. it's extremely circumstantial, AND extremely subjective. of course, i don't mean that it's subjective that what loki's done is bad - but singling him out from all other asgardians IS. why is loki the villain and not thor? because loki is an outsider and because odin has decreed it. nothing else. it's completely arbitrary!! loki is not a villain or a monster or a broken person or a ~ps*chopath~. he's not exceptional. he's not unusual. he's just one more person raised in an awful society where both experiencing a lot of violence oneself and inflicting a lot of violence on others are the (strictly enforced) norm. in another life, he could be your friend. in another life, he could be you. in another life, you could be him.

[mzannthropy]

The best way I can summarise the first half of 2023 for me as a Sam Claflin fan was that it was the Best and the Worst at the same time.

[comicaurora]

So uhh. If you feel like talking about it. As someone who lives in the US, how are you being kind to yourself on this upsetting morning <3

Checked in with my loved ones first and foremost.

It's interesting. The vibe I've been getting from my circle is very different from 2016. Much less… dread and horror at a realignment of the understanding of what can and can't happen here, now, in this place and day and age. More "fuck, guys. again? whatever. enjoy your consequences, maybe you'll manage to learn something this time."

Frustration and anger is not the most positive feeling, or even the most fair one to express, but it is a protective one. It hurts a lot less than most alternatives.

And it's quite a shift. It was earthshattering back then. How could this have been allowed to happen? Why couldn't it be stopped? Why couldn't we stop it? Why couldn't I stop it? Why couldn't everyone see what this meant? Why couldn't I make them understand? Did they really not care? What did that mean about humanity as a whole? Were we so thoughtless? How could anyone be trusted?

It seems… much less earthshattering to see it happen twice. Disappointing, sure. Frustrating. But nowhere near as devastating as the first time I saw it unfold. We already knew it could happen. I've already had time to digest the implications. Now I'm just freshly disappointed.

It also feels less indicative of Crushing Truths Of Reality this time. We've seen shit get bad. We've also seen shit get better from here! We know both outcomes are possible, even inevitable. We know hoping for a better future is always worthwhile. This isn't the apocalypse. It's an unremarkably bad turn of events brought on by unremarkably self-centered well-documented human impulses. It's utterly mundane in its unpleasantness. It doesn't need to be dignified with despair.

A democratic election, no matter the outcome or the side we're on, makes us all acutely aware of how outnumbered we are by people whose worldviews and priorities are demonstrably incomprehensible to us. And the first time you get outnumbered, it's a shock. Defeat is haunting. It didn't matter how badly you wanted it; by the very function of democracy, you do not have the power to override greater numbers. (insert electoral college caveat here)

The second time through, I find myself focusing on a different facet that has dramatically reduced the amount of spiralling I'm doing. I don't expect this to work for everyone, but for me specifically, it helped to crystallize a few thoughts:

You don't have the power to control anyone else. You don't. You can't share your worldview and your revelations with them. You can't make them think or understand anything. You can lay it all out for them, but you can't make them listen, and you can't make it click. A mentor can't make their student learn a lesson; that's why teaching is so complicated and hard. An active choice must be made by the person to enable themselves to understand, and they must put the pieces together in their own mind before it makes sense to them, and the pieces must have been presented in a way that makes sense to them in the first place. Lead a horse to water, can't make them drink.

These elections highlight a disconnect in what different groups of people care about; and no matter how clearly you explain yourself or how passionately you perform, caring cannot be forced on someone. Understanding and connection cannot be forced. You cannot make anything or anyone matter to someone. They have to choose to see how it matters in order to internalize it. If they choose not to, that is not your failing. You couldn't have made them do it by just Explaining Better. They are not your responsibility. They make their own choices. You can't reach inside their head and connect the dots for them.

I'm a storyteller. I make stories and put them out into the world. I hope people get something good out of them, but I have no control over what that something is. I want people to be thoughtful and kind and compassionate and hopeful and see themselves reflected in stranges, no matter their differences. I can craft stories that I hope encourage this. But that is the extent of my ability and the extent of my responsibility. I control no-one's actions but my own, and so while I am not having the best day, I am at least content that I am doing what I can, and I am not shattering myself against impossibilities trying to control the things I can't.

Sometimes, people make decisions that I think are really bad. I can't make that not happen. All I can do is try to make decisions that will result in things I think are good. Today, that means checking in on people, and not assigning too much dramatic narrative weight to an ultimately mundane set of unremarkable bad decisions outside of my control. We'll take life as it comes and help each other out when and how we can. Everything else is out of our hands.

[manny-jacinto]

MANNY JACINTO for Vogue Philippines (2024)

“One of the very first lessons I learned when I started acting was the idea of impermanence,” he tells me. “It won’t do you any good trying to hold onto something, whether it be money or fame or certain highlights in your career. You’re going to have to keep moving past it.”

[hearts4hughes]

oh, professor - professor!rafe x student!fem!reader

WARNINGS: smut ; mdni ; p in v ; oral (f receiving) ; degradation ; unprotected sex ; age gap (reader is 22 & rafe is 29)

A/N: i started this writing for someone else, but changed it because it gave off so much rafe energy. all im needing rn is to get attention from professor!rafe

you sit in the dimly lit library. your leg bouncing up and down under the wooden table. it was late— too late for a tutoring lesson, especially one with your professor.

rafe, your professor, sat across from you. his presence was both distracting and irritating. you hate the way his eyes pierce through you, reading every thought you tried to conceal. he is only seven years older, but he wore his authority with a confidence that made your blood boil.

“if you actually paid attention, you would understand the material, y/n.” rafe says, his voice teasing and raspy. you shoot him a glare, your arms crossed over your body.

“i am paying attention,” you retort with a tight lipped smile. the lie leaked from the sides of your lips. how could you focus when every fiber of your being is aware of him?

he leans closer, his scent intoxicating as it fills your nostrils. your heart races in your chest. “then prove it.” he challenges, leaning back with a smirk.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out. your mind is blank. rafe grins with pride, his cheekbones highlighted by the lightning in the room.

“it’s hard to think when you’re putting me on the spot.” you roll your eyes.

he stifles out a laugh in response.

at the start of your sophomore year at the university of north carolina, you were assigned to professor rafe cameron’s class. he was new to the college, and his arrival spread like a wildfire. he was tall with piercing blue eyes and a muscular body that was evident even under his formal clothes.

from the moment he walked into the classroom, he wore a confident strut in his steps. the girls practically swooned at him. as the semester went on, the outfits the students wore got smaller— each girl trying to catch his attention. however, he kept it professional, not looking lower than he needed to.

it all made you scoff. professors were supposed to be older and wiser than their students. but he was only twenty-nine! how could you truly respect him when he was barely older than you?

you couldn’t, and it didn’t go unnoticed. rafe had noticed you ever since you stumbled into class. his eyes followed you day after day, week after week, but you never shared that interest. you didn’t attempt to flirt with him or invite him to a party, you were totally indifferent. it enticed him.

however, ignoring your professor wasn’t the smartest idea. as a former straight a student, you were failing one class only— his. even though it was unusual for a professor to directly tutor a student, rafe offered to, leaving you no choice if you wanted to keep up your grades.

the tension between you and rafe was palpable. every week the fog surrounding the two became thicker.

“you’re not concentrating.” rafe spoke, breaking the silence. his voice was softer now, almost gentle.

“i’m trying.” your words were dismissive.

he sighs, closing his notebook. “maybe we should take a break.”

you nod in response.

as he stretched his arms above his head, his shirt pulled taut against his abdomen, revealing the outline of his abs. you looked away quickly, a red flush rising to your cheeks.

“why do you do that?”

“do what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“act like you hate me,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “i know you don’t.”

you scoff. “why should it matter if i like you or not? you're my professor, not my roommate.”

“it begins to matter when your grades plummet.” he says plainly, tilting his head to the side with a smug expression.

you clench your fists by your side. frustration coursed through your veins like a wildfire. “you think you’re so smart, don’t you? you’re only a few years older than me!”

he chuckles, the sound so entrancing it made you gulp. “i’m smart enough to know that you’re scared to admit that you like me. that maybe, just maybe, you find this as intoxicating as i do.”

your heart pounded in your chest. “this is ridiculous.” you mutter under your breath. “i don’t need this, i’ll figure this class out myself.”

his smirk only grew deeper as you rushed out of the door. as the north carolina air hit your skin, it was hard to ignore the pulsating between your legs. looking back towards the library, you scoffed.

**

the next morning you find yourself back in rafe’s lecture hall. the room is filled with the scent of coffee and the rustle of college students.

you take your usual spot in the middle of the class. as you unpack your books and laptop, a figure sits besides you. you glance at the boy as he smiles, mirroring your action of setting up his academic station.

“hey,” he greeted. “you always sit in these seats, don’t you?” he smirks. “i’m gavin by the way.” you can’t help but blush as he holds out his hand.

you shake his hand, “hi, i’m y/n.” you reply, your hand still lingering in his. “and what can i say, i like routine.” he chuckles at your cheeky comment.

he’s cute with a dirty blonde mop of curls on his head. his eyes brown eyes are doe and kind. his jaw is sharp and his dimples pop when he smiles. he’s the all american perfect boy. the rest of the lecture is harder to focus on as he sits besides you. every so often, he steals glances at you and whispers jokes into your ear.

rafe notices the second the male student sits besides you. he notices how the boy’s gaze lingers on you and your cleavage, and how he’s so desperate for an ounce of attention from you. it makes his body tense and his lungs tight. it’s unbelievably hard to stay on track during the lesson which causes him to end the class fifteen minutes early.

“we’ll pick this up next class. see you all next week.” he clasps his hands together, signaling the end of period.

you stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as gavin follows you like a loyal puppy. within steps of the exit, your professor calls out to you.

“y/n, can you stay after class, please?” rafe calls out towards you. his body was stiff and jaw tense. the usual glimmer in his eyes was replaced with a greenish tinge.

girls besides you sneered as you nodded your head, waiting until the rest of the students filtered out before you walked towards him.

“yes, professor?” you said, your voice bitingly sharp.

“we didn’t get to finish our conversation from last night.” he tisked, his eyes raking up and down your body. “you left so abruptly.”

“well, we were done tutoring, so i had no other reason to stay.” the words are sharp off your tongue, only encouraging him more.

he stared deeply into your eyes. his eyes held an ocean filled with lust and secrets. it was as if there was a siren in the waters, singing and drawing you in.

you broke eye contact, allowing your gaze to fall onto the ground. he chuckled as if he had won a bet. your cheeks blushed something fierce.

“make a new friend today?” he asks as he moved his body around his desk. he was now standing directly in front of you, leaning on his desk. his dress shirt pulled against his body, emphasizing his impressively muscular arms.

he is a work of art.

you turn your head, “i’m not sure what you mean.” your voice was shaky and you weren’t sure if it was because of the tension in the atmosphere or the tension between your legs.

“really?” he challenges. “i could have sworn you were talking to that boy during my lecture.”

“it was just a conversation, rafe.” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual. however, your heart rate increased under the confines of your clothing.

he took a step closer, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine. “oh, i’m rafe now? what happened to professor? and it seemed like more than a conversation.” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “i don’t like seeing you flirt with other students.”

you swallow harshly. “yeah? and why’s that?” your words were an attempt to maintain steady, but you knew who was controlling the conversation.

his lips curved into a smirk, his eyes darkening with desire. “you don’t have to pretend with me, y/n.” his voice was soft. he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “i know you want this just as badly as i do.”

the fire burning in your core intensified.

“we can’t do this.” your mind was telling you no, but your heart was screaming yes. “y-you’re my professor, and i’m a student.”

“i know.” his voice was sultry. chills traveled along your skin as his finger traced your arm. “i’m no good for you, but doesn’t that make this all so much better?” he leans in, whispering into your ear.

his lips dropped from your earlobe onto the skin of your neck. he sucks along the sensitive skin, biting ever so gently.

“rafe,” you breathe out. he hums in response, his arms wrapping around your body as he pulled you close. “kiss me.”

without any hesitation, his lips landed on yours. his lips were soft, yet demanding, moving against yours in a fiery rhythm. your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. his hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between. the bulge beneath his dress pants began to grow.

you could feel the heat radiating from him, mixing with your own. the kiss depend, his tongue teasing your mouth. a moan escaped you, echoing around the empty classroom. he flipped you around, lifting you up, and sitting you on his desk. your legs separated as he stood in between them.

breaking the kiss, he gazed into your eyes, his lips still a shadow on yours. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to do that?” he whispered, his voice dripping with pure desire.

you were breathless in a haze of pleasure and desire. “what else have you wanted to do?” you look at him through your lashes. your doe, sweet eyes flicking a switch inside of him as he growls in response.

his hands traveled to the hem of your shirt before swiftly ripping it off. you sat clad in a black, lace bra, leaving little to the imagination.

“you’re ethereal.” his words painted a pink flush on your cheeks.

one hand reaches behind your back, unclasping your bra and revealing your perky tits. you gasp as his mouth attaches onto one of your nipples, sucking voraciously.

your legs wrap around his waist as you melt into his touch. every rational thought fled your mind, replaced by a primal need to feel pleasure; to feel him.

“rafe,” your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling every time his tongue swirls around your sensitive nipple. he responded with a moan, dropping to his knees in front of you.

you took in the sight as he unclasped your jeans. his hair was a tousled mess, his lips swollen, face flushed, and eyes hungry with desire.

he pulled the material down your legs, discarding it elsewhere in the room. your matching lace panties made his mouth hang agape.

he looked up at you, “are you sure about this?” you nod, your body squirming in need of touch. he tisked with a grin, “i need words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” the words couldn’t have left your lips faster.

the second he heard your consent, he dropped his head down to your lower body. he began at the edge of your thighs, licking a trail up to your inner thighs. his hands moved with purpose, swirling circles around your legs, but never in the one spot you desperately wanted.

he took his time, savoring each moment as he licked, kissed, and sucked the skin along your thighs and waist.

you wiggled as you grew impatient. he chuckled, taking a hint and suddenly pressing his tongue flat against the thin material of your black panties. your head fell back in pleasure.

he made quick work of pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your folds. your fingers find their way to his hair, where you tug and pull. that only encourages him more as he begins to lap up your core like a man starved. his nose pushes against your clit as his tongue penetrates deep inside you.

the sight of his handsome face buried between your legs made you whimper, clenching around nothing but his muscle. your juices covered the lower half of his face as he continued to please you.

“taste so much better than i imagined.” he coos, shifting his focus from your hole to your bundle of nerves. you whimpered when his tongue circled around the little nub. he smirked against you.

“i’m gonna-” you interrupted yourself with a gasp as his ring and middle finger entered you. you stretched around his digits, leaving your mouth agape. he pulls away from your legs to look at you as he curls his fingers just the right way.

it wasn’t long before he began pumping his fingers in and out of you at a merciless pace. you felt the knot in your stomach tightening as he continued his assault on your pussy.

and just as you were about to come undone on his fingers, he pulled them out. your eyes shot open and you opened your mouth to argue, but his lips crashed against yours in a hungry battle between tongues. he pulled away with a tisk.

“think i was just going to reward you for being a brat?” he shook his head. “after you flirted with that ass in front of everyone? gotta teach you a lesson, honey.” he undid his buckle and dress pants before allowing them to drop to the ground.

your eyes widened as he freed his thick length from the confines of his boxers. his tip was painfully throbbing, in need of release. he ran his finger over his tip, collecting precum and spreading it across his cock. he hisses at the feeling, only causing the ache between your legs to intensify.

he scoffs as you spread your legs wider for him. “such a needy little slut, huh? need your professors dick that bad? so pathetic.” his words send a shock straight to your core, making your legs twitch. he smirks as he steps between your legs. he grabs himself and teases your entrance. when his tip knocks at your clit that’s when you turn into a cock drunk mess.

“please, rafe. i need you so bad that it hurts.” his smirk widens as you beg. while keeping eye contact, he bottoms out completely in you. you want to scream at the pleasure, but all that falls from your mouth are whiney, pathetic whimpers.

he doesn’t give you time to adjust before thrusting ruthlessly into your sopping cunt. his thick length stretches you out deliciously. his hand drops to your clit, rubbing in circular motions to ease the pain into pleasure.

his hand claps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your head feel hazy. he continuously pounds into you. his tip kisses your cervix causing you to yell out in pure ecstasy. he smirks as he looks down at your stomach. with each thrust his cock bulges against your skin.

“rafe, it’s too much.” you breathe out, squirming around. his hand tightens around your throat and his other clings to your hips, holding you down as he fucks you.

“you can fucking take it.” he spat, his lips connecting with yours. it’s a clash between teeth and tongues as the knot in your stomach intensifies.

he leans back in his heels, hitting a new angle. his dick hits your g-spot continuously, bringing you to your climax. you cream around his length and it spills onto the floor below you as he doesn’t slow up on his thrusts.

you lay limp, clinging to his biceps as he spills inside of you. you’re thankful that you’re on the pill because nothing ever beat the feeling of his sperm painting your walls. breathlessly, he slows down his strokes. he pulls out, kneeling down and watching your mixed juices spill out of your worn-out core. using his fingers, he pushes his release back into you, marking you as his.

“i think you just earned some extra credit.”

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 8 - Knight of Pentacles

summary : reader is pushing herself a bit too hard while studying for the exams, so sky calls in for reinforcement (jayce and viktor)

content warnings : some angst, more banter, viktor ain't having none of reader's bullshit

word count : 5,4k

author's note : okay so this has some kind of underlying brat!reader x dom!viktor dynamics ngl but no smut obviously! just lots of innuendos hihi

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr

You buried your nose and mouth in your elbow, a coughing fit taking hold of you until your lungs vibrated and echoed in your chest. You huffed, bringing your forehead to your hand as you swallowed. Your throat ached, but despite the pain, you kept going.

"If we follow Nesvor's principle on the calculation of energical stabilisation between a trajectory force and the Von Gasan Indicator of a speeding particle, we can deduce that x..."

You continued your recitation, your voice hoarse and your mind acting mechanically.

A week had passed since Professor Heimerdinger's announcement, and you had been studying non-stop.

You'd spent your first weekend working between customers at the café, your own cups piling up in the corner of the storeroom while your breaks were spent re-reading your notes and starting your revision sheets between your sandwich and your shots of espresso.

You'd underline, highlight, circle, synthesise, frantically searching your notes for formulas and key words to incorporate into your sheets until your fingertips were covered in neon yellow and black ink when you gave customers their orders.

When classes arrived on Mondays, Sky woke up at her usual time while you were already awake above your desk, the light dimmed as you transcribed your Practice of Elemental Alloys lessons.

"You're awake already?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Made some coffee," you replied, simply, as her eyes returned to the coffee pot, half empty already.

"Oh, nice." She articulated before getting up, bringing her body without connecting her tired neurons by pouring herself a cup.

It wasn't until she reached the shuttle stop that she considered the fact that you'd never gone to bed the night before. She watched you, concerned, as your eyes were riveted on your sheets, rereading them, your lips forming the words written on them without any sound coming out.

The first lesson came, and you were attentive, noting down almost every word the teacher said with a speed that Sky didn't even think possible, using your own unintelligible shorthand. You took part in every question, as if you'd already done the same lesson three times.

When the break came, you didn't even get a word in edgeways as you got out your flask to pour yourself another coffee, eating your lunch without much interest, your eyes never leaving the multitudes of lines in your lessons.

When evening came, you almost rushed to your desk, pulling out all your notebooks and sheets of paper to grab another revision sheet and get straight down to work.

When she called you for dinner, you'd simply tell her you weren't finished, that you'd eat later, and she'd left you a plate in the fridge.

While Sky tucked herself under her blanket, ready to sleep, you were still at your desk, hunched over your notes.

And when morning came and she woke up, there you were, sitting at your desk, your back bent like a wilting flower. When she opened the fridge door to get herself a juice, she found the plate. Untouched – it hadn't moved a millimetre.

It was at this point that she really started to worry.

"You didn't eat?" she asked.

"Didn't what?" you repeated, turning your head only when the silence had stretched out for a few seconds and your eyes went from Sky to the open fridge door. You raised your eyebrows. "Ah, no," you replied with a small smile as you turned back to your notes. "Forgot."

"Did you.. go to sleep?" she questioned.

"Yeah, around one in the morning. Woke up at five." you explained, twirling your pen in your hand as you tried to absorb information from another class.

"That's four hours of sleep." Sky chuckled, slightly nervous at the news. "How much did you sleep the previous night?"

You smiled, tired. "Don't worry, Sky. I'm fine." You pointed with your chin to the kitchen worktop. "Made some coffee."

She sighed, taking one of the tupperware containers from the cupboards to transfer the contents of your plate and save it for lunch. She did her best, however, to ignore your little coughs and sniffs.

Noon came, and you hardly ate anything. You had only taken a few mouthfuls, absent-mindedly immersed in notes on another subject.

Had you eaten breakfast? How much coffee had you had? Had you really slept a bit last night, or had you lied so as not to worry Sky?

Another evening followed the same pattern, and another day dawned without you moving from your desk. Dark circles were beginning to form under your eyes, your lips seemed less coloured and more chapped, your complexion lightened.

You were shaking slightly, your body growing more and more tired. You were already coughing more frankly, covering yourself with an indoor scarf as Sky's eyes drifted more and more towards your bin, which was filling up with tissues.

You looked like a zombie, barely lucid, mechanical in your movements as you pressed your fingers to your forehead. 

You had started to fall seriously ill. The lack of sleep combined with your diet of mostly coffee and energy bars was beginning to be too much for your body to cope with. You wouldn't even have been surprised if you'd managed to lose a kilo since you started studying.

As Friday drew to a close and you were mindlessly dropping things off at your desk, Sky pulled out the shopping bag for a refill.

"Need anything?"

You didn't turn, gathering up your revision kit, clearing your nearly-breaking throat to answer her. "We're running low on coffee, I think."

She sighed. You were completely locked in this state. No matter how many dishes she prepared to give you extra time to study, it seemed she couldn't reach you, couldn't make you understand that at this rate you were going to get worse.

"I'm going to the library," you said, leaving almost as soon as you'd got in.

"Okay. Well... good luck," she answered, before you stepped through the door. 

You only hummed an absent "mhm" as you left. Sky picked up a shopping bag, thinking for a moment before stepping out of the door a little later in turn. She wasn't going to make a simple trip to the shop, not when you had to be reasoned with and she had no influence on what you had to hear.

So she went down the stairs, and instead of going through the doors to get out of the dormitories, she continued on to one of the lower flats.

She knocked on the door, waiting a moment and thinking about what to say, hoping they'd be here. 

It opened to Jayce.

"Sky?" He said, obviously surprised to see her here like this.

She took a deep breath. "Is Viktor here as well?"

Jayce, still confused, opened his door fully to reveal Viktor sitting on his bed reading his notes. She huffed – Viktor at least had the decency to revise without exceeding the limits of what a body could tolerate.

Her eyes returned to Jayce as Viktor broke his eyes away from his notes to rest on her.

"Can I talk to you guys for a minute?"

They exchanged worried glances, Jayce opening the door a little wider to let her in.

"What's the matter?" Asked Viktor, turning to sit on the edge of his bed.

"It's..." she stared at the floor for a moment, searching for words before uttering your name. Viktor's eyebrows furrowed, his interest clearly piqued. "She's sick."

"Sick?" Jayce repeated, having never before associated your name and that word together in all the time he'd known you.

"Since Heimerdinger announced the finals, she's been working like her life depends on it. She barely speaks, she doesn't eat, and I've started doubting if she even sleeps." She crossed her arms over her chest, her fingers firmly gripping the flesh of her elbow. "She's been coughing, I haven't been able to have her take her temperature... She's getting worse by the day. At this rhythm I fear she could get worse."

Viktor stood up, pressing on his cane to adjust himself and move towards Sky. "Have you voiced your concerns to her ?"

"I did," she confirmed, nodding, "but she won't listen to me. That's why I came to see you."

"Us?" Jayce repeated, surprised.

"Yes. You've known her for longer than I do," she said, turning to Jayce, "I'm sure she'll listen to you."

"I don't know if I can make her listen to reason," he sighed. 

Her eyes darted from Jayce to Viktor. "I'm sure she'll listen to you both."

"Both of us?" Viktor asked, arching his eyebrows.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "You may not realise it, Viktor, but she has a lot of admiration for you."

He gave a laugh that was almost accompanied by his eyes rolling heavenward. "Miss Young, I don't think admiration is really the word for the situation."

"She won't admit it to herself." Sky sighed. "At least not right now. But she admires you, Viktor. She respects you. If there's one person who can change her mind or even make her realise how impossible her condition is, it's you."

Viktor's lips parted for a moment, surprised by the news, before they closed again and the muscle in his jaw tightened. "Should we go and see her now?"

"She's gone to the library. I'm not even sure she can find the strength to walk anymore."

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a knowing glance, and nodded.

Your eyes were starting to blur as you tried to read the jumble of letters forming supposed sentences over and over again.

"If we follow Nesvor's principle on the calculation of energical stabilisation... If we follow... If we..."

You felt your eyelids twitch, closing them for a moment to try and calm the incessant buzzing. Your eyes stung, your nose ran, your throat hurt with every swallow. You shook your head, trying to regain your composure and read the formulas you should know so well.

You heard your name called and turned to Jayce. He looked worried, examining you for a moment. Beside him was Viktor, his eyebrows noticeably knit. You sighed, your eyes returning with great difficulty to your endless lines of text.

"What do you want?" The question was cold between your lips, your throat itching as the sudden effort to speak caused you to cough more.

"Can we talk?" Jayce asked, stepping forward slightly with Viktor to face you.

You cleared your throat, your face tightening at the discomfort of the gesture. "I can't even express to you how much I would rather do literally anything else."

Jayce breathed in, sensing that the conversation wasn't going to be easy.

"You're sick, you have to get some rest-"

"I'll rest when the exams are done." Your glassy eyes turned to meet Jayce's.

Viktor huffed. "This is ridiculous." 

You pouted, feeling too tired for this stupid game. "You're ridiculous."

Viktor seemed surprised, not by your remark, but by the weakness in it. You were always used to coming up with an elaborate response to his remarks, and now you were simply saying this? 

You had disappointed him, you suspected, and your heart twisted slightly at the idea.

I can't be disappointed, you thought. Because if I disappoint them, I'm nothing.

"The fridge and the streetlight will both find something more studious to do than waste my time," you managed to mumble uneasily, your head hurting horribly as you shivered.

"How do you find the strength to have things to say when you're in such a pitiful state, Miss?" Viktor asked ironically.

"Let go of me," you breathed, sniffing and biting your cheek. Your jaw was so heavy it felt like lead weights had been hung on every tooth.

Viktor leaned in slightly towards you, Jayce standing back.

"How am I supposed to fight fair with you if you're not healthy?" His voice was softer, more tender. Concerned.

"And how am I supposed to stand up to you if I don't study?" Your cheeks were hot, fatigue tugging at every limb.

"It's not studying," he said as you met his gaze, "it's a relentlessness that's slowly killing you."

Why was he making all this effort for you? Why had he taken his precious time to come and talk to you? Was he trying to dissuade you from revising? Was this another strategy so that he could outdo you?

Feverish thoughts flooded your cotton-filled head.

"Do you doubt me that much?" You asked, bringing your tired eyes to his. "Am I a burden to you?"

His eyes widened, lips parted as silence returned to the room.

He thought so, didn't he? He didn't dare say it out loud, but surely he was thinking it. You followed him like a bad shadow all the time, you must have been unbearable. 

You must have been a disappointment.

"That's what you think, isn't it?"

His jaw clenched, and your eyes were ready to prepare their tears, your nose stinging like you'd eaten too much mustard.

"You never had the time to really stop and care for yourself, have you?"

His voice was amber, fluid and vaporous as he delivered such bitter words to you.

"Why would you even care?" you chuckled, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as his vision blurred not with tears but with fatigue.

"I like you way more than my urge to hate you."

The sentence pierced your heart, your eyes widening for a moment to catch the truth that was nestled in his. He wasn't lying to you, was he? He wasn't just saying that to please you and prevent you from getting any more upset? After all, since when did Viktor say anything to please you? It didn't make sense.

You shook your head and stood up from your table, staggering as you tried to gather your things. "I'm going to study somewhere where neither of you will annoy me."

"Stop this." Jayce almost grumbled. "You shouldn't be doing anything in this sta..."

But Jayce's voice was beginning to fade dangerously as black flies began to fill your vision. Your body felt so heavy, getting up had been a mistake. Your head was spinning violently, the world seemed unstable and rocking to and fro.

You felt yourself falling backwards, and a hard, warm surface caught you as two hands grabbed your arms.

You heard your name being called – Jayce's voice no doubt. Everything was so blurred that it was impossible to tell where your body ended and the world began. You reopened your eyes weakly to see Viktor approach you with a worried look.

You were too weak to move, barely able to keep your eyes open.

He moved his hand closer to you, placing it on your forehead. His fingers were cold, long and soft against your skin. You closed your eyes at the sensation, trying hard not to tremble.

"Miss," Viktor said, his voice sounding concerned, "you're... burning."

You shivered, a small film of sweat covering your forehead as you felt your hair stick to your skin. You were so cold, trying to come back to reality, to steady yourself.

"But Nesvor's prince, Nesvor's prince..." You ranted deliriously.

"Let's take her back." Jayce said, you deduced his voice through the blur.

You simply felt hands on the back of your knees and your back before everything went black.

You kept waking up and going back to sleep, sometimes seeing light, sometimes hearing snatches of conversation, but you couldn't work out whether they belonged to dreams or reality.

"... You've got to get some sleep." Said a voice.

"Sleep can wait." Said another.

"Just... don't pull all nighters like her okay? I know her state is... but don't forget to... care... too..."

In this constant state between sleep and fever dream, you were cold. Sometimes you felt things. The cool sensation of a glass against your lips and the horrible taste of a mixture you couldn't quite work out, spreading down your throat and into your mouth.

The conversations seemed impossible to link together, to put in chronological order.

"... Think she'll get through?’

"... will take no time... medicine..."

You felt your chest rise every time you coughed, wincing at the sensation. You could barely feel the blanket covering you, as if you'd been covered with nothing more than a drape and left with nothing else.

Sometimes you managed to mumble, to talk to yourself in delirious dreams.

"I have to get back..." you breathed. "Studying, I have to."

You dreamt that your body was smaller, your limbs weak, your hair sticking to your forehead as you breathed hard. Everything around you was dark, a dull thud in the background of a crowd. 

You felt a cold cloth on your forehead and chattered your teeth.

"Shh..." you heard. "It'll pass."

You wanted to curl into yourself, to find a warmth in the half-light that would envelop you, comfort you, reassure you.

"It'll be alright." In their battle against sleep, your eyes roamed the damp walls of a cellar where the orange light of candles was reflected. "It'll be over soon."

You wanted to take every flame in the room and gather them close to your heart, coat yourself in their warmth, wrap yourself in them and never have to tremble so pathetically again.

The voice in the dream was right. You opened your eyes with difficulty, still blurred, squeezing them until your nose wrinkled before you opened them again.

You weren't in a cave, you didn't have any cold, wet wipes on your forehead, no candles reflecting faintly off any rock walls.

You were in your flat, lying in bed, no longer shivering from the cold. You turned your head towards the window, watching the sun filtering through the panes.

How long had you slept? A night? An eternity? You couldn't place yourself.

You breathed a sigh, turning your head towards the rest of the room in the half-light, when your eyes fell on your bed.

Sitting there on a chair, someone had fallen asleep on your sheets. A ribbon of sunlight passing through the thin curtains of the windows was tracing across his brown hair and his closed eyes.

Viktor.

He was gracefully asleep, his head turned towards you on his crossed arms. He seemed peaceful at first glance, except for the frown that creased his forehead.

Why was he there? What was he doing at your bedside? What was he dreaming about, to make his eyebrows furrow like that? 

You sat up in silence, moving slowly, not wanting to wake him. You watched him for a moment, silently contemplating the tiny specks of dust in the air passing through the gold ray.

Tentatively, you moved your hand closer, and it too entered the beam of sunlight, bathing it in a pleasant warmth. 

What is he dreaming about?

You hesitated for a moment before, almost by instinct, you gently pressed your index finger between his eyebrows. You didn't really know why you were doing this, how long had it pained you to see him in any discomfort? 

What is he dreaming about?

His frown disappeared under your fingers, like an eraser removing a cross-out. He looked so serene there, bathed in the sun glow. Did he sometimes think that the sky over Piltover was too big for the trickle of light you had in the bowels of Zaun?

What is he dreaming about?

His eyes opened slowly, the sun shining on the honey of his iris as they went from staring into space to landing on you.

He sighed, not moving from his current position, cheek resting on his arm as he looked at you quietly for a moment of silence.

"You're awake," he murmured, his voice numb with sleep.

"You were asleep," you answered in a voice just as small, regaining the use of a throat that hurt less but was still unpleasant. 

What were you dreaming about? you wondered, hoping that he would tell you on his own, that he would confide in you. But he said nothing, just stared at you. You couldn't make out his expression, couldn't tell what he was thinking, and you finally understood the frustration he felt when he tried to find you out.

You looked around the rest of the room as you gradually woke up. You were safely in your room, the chair from your desk missing as Viktor sat on it. Sky wasn't there.

"Why are you here?" you asked.

He exhaled, raising his crossed arms as one of them came towards you. You moved your head back but your pillow prevented you from moving any further. Two of his fingers touched your forehead. They were warm, the residual heat of sleep still enveloping them. He sighed, bringing his hand up to rest his chin on his palm, pressing his two fingers from your forehead against his cheekbone.

"You are ill." He explained. "I was just making sure this would stop."

You gazed at him, not saying a thing.

"When I was still in Zaun, I used to be just like you. I used to go days without sleeping, without eating, doing whatever I could to prepare for the exams. I know what it's like to push yourself too hard to achieve something higher than yourself. But destroying yourself before you reach your goal is no way to enjoy the taste of victory."

You pursed your lips, straightening slightly and bringing your legs towards you, cross-legged. 

"Why did you do this?" You asked, puzzled. "Why did you help me?"

He gave a little laugh that made him sway on the balance of his hand.

“Because someone once said that they had this old human thing called 'free will',” he smiled, ”and mine dictated to me that I had to get you to rest.”

You chuckled, lowering your eyes to your hands, bringing your fingers together and beginning to triturate them mechanically.

“But... why?” You kept coming back to this question, trying to find out what his real motives were.

“Can't have my best rival sick while she goes against me now, can I?”

My best rival; the appellation made you feel all funny in your tummy, or maybe that was just your symptoms.

You glanced at the window, the sun still splitting a blond line across your blanket.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Viktor's shoulders relaxed. “You've been in and out of sleep since we brought you back from the library yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You choked.

You'd found yourself at the library at around seven-thirty, and if the sun was already up...

“What time is it?” But a far more distressing realization dawned on you. “Oh fuck, I have to get to work.”

You straightened up, already pulling on your comforter to try and get up. But Viktor straightened, sitting down on your bed as he placed his hands on your comforter, at the same height as your hips.

You frowned, recoiling as your head hurt.

“No.” He said simply.

You sat up, confused.

“What do you mean 'no'?”

He didn't move, keeping his hands on your blanket. “Sky went to them and told them you would be taking the day off due to your health.”

“What?” You saidas if someone had just punched you in the stomach and the shock had expelled that simple word. “But-”

“No ‘but’,” he remarked firmly, carefully relocating your cover on top of you. “You are staying in bed today. End of discussion.”

You chuckled, apprehensive to respond to this, but Viktor gave you a simple look, the kind of glance that firmly underlines 'you don't want to fight me on this.'

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I still have to study.”

He shook his head slightly, chin high. “Don't care. You are resting today.”

“And what if I don't rest?” you asked, arching an incredulous eyebrow.

He let out an arrogant huff. “Want me to call Jayce? I might not have his strength, but I have enough determination for the both of us.”

You bit your cheek, pouting. “You can't pin me to bed all day long.”

He chuckled, almost darkly. “It's cute that you think I'm not capable of it.”

You inhaled heavily. “Can't run after me so you're just going to tie me to my bed, is that it?” You almost spat.

He seemed very amused by your remark, happy even. “You're giving me ideas.”

You'd recovered your rebuttal, and that seemed to reassure and satisfy him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked before reaching for his cane resting against the wall next to your head.

“Sore throat, sore head, sore all over.” You sighed, drawing your knees together in front of you until you rested your head against them.

You could hear him getting up, his cane tapping against the floor of your apartment like a new sound catalogued to his name. “Sky should be here soon, she's gone to the pharmacy.”

You turned your head to the side, watching him. He'd reached the sink, turned on the worktop light, taken an empty glass between his long slender fingers.

"Are you going to fill me full of pills?" You asked, tiredly.

He cut a packet of medicine in half, wedging it between his teeth and tearing the slit in the paper. He poured the contents into the glass before running it under water. He had rolled up his sleeves, the light over the worktop highlighting his silhouette. You let your eyes wander lasciviously over his forearms as he took a spoon to stir the whitish mixture.

"We've had a doctor in the meantime." He put the spoon down on the worktop, picked up his cane and came over to you. "He prescribed a treatment. I had a few sachets of the same medicine left in my things so we used them on you." He sat down on the bed, handing you the glass. "Sky's gone to get some more.’

"What about Jayce?" 

"Gone to see Selene," He replied, pushing the glass a little closer to you. "Drink this."

Your mouth fell open in shock.

"What?" 

You'd never told Jayce, or Sky. Only Viktor knew.

"You told them about Selene?!" You raised your voice, regretting it as you began to cough.

Viktor sighed, bringing the glass back in front of you. "Drink this, and then we'll talk." 

You were about to answer, but the words melted off your tongue like butter when Viktor spoke again. "Don't argue with me."

You looked at him for a moment, frustrated, before bringing both hands to the glass. You reached for it, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. 

You brought the mixture close to your nose, the smell making your whole face pucker. You exchanged a glance with Viktor, who nodded to encourage you not to worry too much about it.

"Till the very last drop," he said, spacing each word carefully.

You huffed, taking one last look at the contents before bringing it to your lips, frowning immediately as you took your first sip. You remembered the taste; you'd drunk it between fever dreams.

You swallowed the last mouthful with great difficulty, passing Viktor an empty glass as you pressed the back of your free hand to your mouth. He seemed amused, rising again to refill your glass with clean water that didn't taste atrocious.

"Why did you tell them about her?" You asked, still annoyed.

"Selene is your legal guardian, she deserves to know the state you're in." He refilled the glass, bringing it back to you. "And besides, she's the one person in your circle who knows the most about you."

"You didn't need to tell them about her…" you grumbled as you took the glass with much less suspicion than before. 

Whose job had it been to give you the treatment while you slept?

He sighed quietly. He didn't seem to have missed your stubbornness. Or maybe he was just tired. You turned to him. You'd woken up with him at your bedside. Had he been watching over you? You took a sip from the glass of water, an immensely diluted remnant of the remaining treatment swirling in it.

"The medicine," you begun hesitantly, "were you the one giving it to me while I was asleep?"

He breathed in gently, his eyes dropping to the glass you were holding for a moment, tilting his head to one side as his lips parted. But his sentence never came as the apartment door opened on Sky.

Viktor got up from the bed, moving away as Sky put the shopping bag on the table before coming towards you, all smiles.

"You're awake!" She exclaimed. "How are you feeling ?"

Your eyes drifted to Viktor, who had walked straight over to the packet Sky had left on the table and checked its contents.

"Better," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to the glass, your thumb caressing the outline.

"Um, Miss Young?" Viktor asked, the latter turning to him as you followed her gaze. "You know how to administer the treatment. Make sure to give her the next one in five hours from now." He moved towards the door. "If she resists..." He turned to you, giving you a knowing look before returning to Sky's. "Come to us. We'll take care of it."

He gave you one last look before walking out, leaving you and Sky alone with a few hundred questions.

"How did the night go?" You asked, unable to stay still, your desire to know stronger than your tiredness.

"The guys... Viktor was amazing," she admitted. "They brought you back here; Jayce was a bit panicked." You both smiled. “Viktor had the situation under control."

You remained silent, waiting for Sky to continue her recounting.

"He immediately asked about all your symptoms in detail, calmly telling Jayce to go and get some of his own medicine from their flat. If you'd seen the way Jayce rushed down the corridor..." She laughed, and you imagined the scene perfectly, smiling back. "Viktor never left your side."

You breathed in, thinking back over the snatches of conversation, putting together the fragmented pieces of a blurred memory. Sleep can wait. It was Viktor's accent.

"He gave you each dose of medicine, every five hours, sharp. Like clockwork. I don't even know if he slept." She stood up, heading for the bag. 

"Wow," you breathed, "Viktor did... all this? For me?"

You couldn't believe it. How could he have gone to so much trouble, spent so much time making sure you got better?

“See,” Sky smiled as she came over to you, bringing a pastry with her, "he isn't that bad.’’ She handed you the delicacy. "Here, a treat from Emeline. I swear I thought all her freckles were going to fall from her face when she heard you were sick."

You took the sweet in your hands, smiling at it: your favourite order from her. Sky stood up again, heading for the worktop.

"Hey, Sky?" She turned to you, and you saw a slight fatigue on her face. Poor thing must have spent half her night listening to you rave in your sleep and coughing your lungs out. "Thank you – for all of this."

She smiled, relieved. "You would have done the same for me."

And it was true. In the quartet you all formed, you would have done the same, even for Jayce, even for Viktor. She turned again, moving on as you took a mouthful of your pastry.

After the vile taste of the medicine, you had heaven on your tongue. You savoured it for a moment, your head turning towards your bedside table until you found your tarot deck.

You shuffled a few cards, cutting as usual, and turned the deck over to reveal the Knight of Pentacles. You picked up the little booklet, flipping through until you found the page.

You began to read the key words, and felt your cheeks flush as you glanced at Sky to make sure she was busy. When that proved to be the case, you went back over the lines: Physical and sensual. Introspective. Slow energy with incredible results.

Sensual?

The Knight of the Pentacles carries the slowest energy in the game. He stares at the pentacle in his hand as he considers his next move. Will he plant it like a seed in the freshly ploughed field beside him, or will he slip it into his pocket and ride off into the sunset? It is all about plotting and planning the future.

A knight... representing Viktor? 

You closed the little manual, your eyes staring into space.

What was he dreaming about?

✦﹒ previous chapter

✦﹒ next chapter

[holybibly]

For bunnies who, like me, can't stop thinking about stalker Yunho.

Yunho is a good boy, the most diligent of them all. He's always been this way, apart from a few innocent lies as a child or a few biscuits stolen from the jar when no one was watching. But he has never done anything bad enough to make him feel really guilty. Yunho is a good boy, the nicest of all. He loves his family, his job at the little bookshop on the corner, cosy romantic films, and the thick taste of hot chocolate that melts on his tongue. But there is something he loves more than all of that. 

What Yunho loves most is your used panties, no matter how much he embarrassedly admits it. 

"Oh, God..." The sound of his voice is low and husky, his mouth ajar as he presses it against your expensive silk panties, the rich, creamy fabric sliding down his nose and tickling the flushed skin of his cheeks with the exquisite French lace. 

These are his favourites, although he is equally fond of the lovely peach ones with the little bow at the front that you wear most often. He can tell by the smell, not that he has looked up your skirt... yet. Yunho is too shy for that, and he's not sure he wouldn't get arrested if he tried to put his head up your skirt to see what kind of panties you're wearing on a given day, or if he put his face between your legs as how he always fantasises about and touching the wet, soft fabric with his tongue. Yunho is pretty sure he could easily identify them by the feel of them in his mouth; after all, he's sucked or licked them too many times not to know that. 

But for now, he's quite content to enjoy the taste and the smell of your used panties, and to see you three times a week when you go to his bookshop to buy a new book or some stationery that you keep losing. And you don't need to know that Yunho keeps your pens and pencils in the top drawer of his bedside table. You like to suck on the tip of a pencil when you're concentrating; Yunho likes to suck on it when he's fucking his pillow, imagining it's your tiny, squelching with mucus pussy stretching so beautifully around his cock.

Right now, he's sitting comfortably on your bed, stroking his hard, leaking cock in lazy motions. He's pressing the sticky, slightly damp fabric of your panties, which you'd taken off this morning before going to work, to his face. Yunho rubs the soiled silk between his fingers, feeling the trace of your juices on his fingertips as he takes them into his mouth, sucking sweetly, savouring every hint of your taste. He'd give anything to get a real taste of you.

One of his favourite fantasies is one in which he worships your pussy with his tongue. He knows you'll love it too, judging by how often you highlight such scenes in those kinky novels you read at night. He's read them all; he knows exactly how to make you go crazy for it. Yunho is a diligent student; he's learnt his lesson to perfection. 

Yunho imagines spreading your legs wide, burying his face in your pussy. He will treat you like a true princess and show you how much you deserve to be pleasured and worshipped. He will spread your labia with his fingers and stick his tongue as deep into your hole as he can until his nose rests on your clit and he can no longer breathe properly.

He would let you use yourself as a toy if you wanted him to; he would let you grab his hair and rub your cunt all over his face until you came in his mouth. He would also want you to ride his face while he fucks you with his tongue; he would love to do this as long as you give him permission to learn how to make you cum so that he can do it when you ask him to. It doesn't matter if he cum or not, but he knows he will; he just needs to get close enough to you to do it, not to mention that he has thought about being your boyfriend. He'll go out with you, he'll buy you cake and hot chocolate, he'll love your cat, he'll look after the flowers on your window, he'll give you kisses and spend time with you when you're depressed, and he'll screw you at any time of the day, whether he's busy or not. And he's tough; you can bite or bruise or dig your nails into his back or beat him; he can take anything and much, much worse if it's for you. 

His tongue sticks out to lather your panties with his saliva, barely thinking, his grip on his cock tightening as he jerks himself faster and harder, as if you were the one jerking him off, wrapping your tiny palm around his heavy, hot length so you can sit on it afterwards. Wouldn't that be the ultimate prize? He'd have no problem getting his tongue inside you and sucking your clit for hours on end, but actually fucking you would be a whole other realm of pleasure that he has no idea even exists. You would look so beautiful with your tiny, plump pussy stretched around his cock, and he could be so gentle with you, fucking you like it was your first time—and he really hopes it is because virgins are all dirty; they are the most kinky little desperate bitches who dream of a hard big cock, and Yunho will give you that; he will give you everything. But he can also be rough with you; he can fuck your brain; he can make you squirt over and over and over again. He can even play with you and take you without your consent, the way you have dreamed of it while you were finger-fucking yourself and reading about it in your book. He knows your desire to have him tear you apart, and who is he to deny you that?

He can dream many things. He can dream long enough so that he doesn't realise what he's doing until it's too late, until he feels himself coming and he has nothing to hold on to to hide his presence from your gaze. Nothing but the panties in his hand, which he has no choice but to press against his cock and watch as his cum shakes out in strands so thick they begin to seep through the fabric. 

Yunho looks down at your ruined panties wrapped around his cock, all wet and sticky, and thinks about how one day he's going to cum on your pussy just like that, make it dirty, make it his.

[minhosimthings]

Silk and Pearls || SJY

Synopsis: He was the artist, and you were his muse. But what happens when his muse doesn't see herself like the way he sees her?

Pairings: fashiondesigner!Jake * Model!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, mirror sex, anal sex, unprotected p in v (not for you), bondage, use of handcuffs, edging, degradation, praise, sorta angsty in the beginning, insecure reader, overall good ol bf Jake, lots of kissing cause these two are FREAKS

A/N: hello my babies 😚 So here is the promised fashion designer Jake fic this was kinda fun to write because I was extremely horny lol. Anywho ENJOY

"Did I really make a dress that pretty or is it just you, my love?" 

You felt your cheeks warm up drastically at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, along with his face appearing behind you. You saw his eyes light up as you stared at him in the mirror in front of you, his wandering pupils admiring how snug you looked in the dress you were wearing. With its brilliant outlay of white chiffon along with its minute details of chartreuse pearls highlighting everything Jake wanted to, it was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever breathed life into. 

Or perhaps it was only because of the person who was wearing it. 

"Don't go putting your hard work all over my shoulders again, babe." You laughed, turning your body to face him, "I'm just the model."

"The model is the muse, might I remind you." Jake corrected you, leaning in to place his forehead on yours, his love-struck eyes gazing longingly into yours, "How did I manage to capture the bouts of your affection hm, mon amour?" 

"You spend one week in Paris for Fashion Week and suddenly you're a romance novelist." You laugh, raising your arms and placing them on either of his shoulders, "As for your question—" you pretended to think, all while ghosting your glossy lips over his plump ones, "—I don't think you'll ever get the answer to that." 

"Shame, I was hoping you'd say something overly sweet about me." Jake laughed, before smudging his lips against yours. His ever so slender tongue moved in your mouth, as his hold on your waist tightened. Pulling away (after what had seemed like a very short amount of time to him) from the kiss, Jake took pride in the fact that you were quite breathless. 

"Jaeyun.” you spoke in a scolding voice, lowering your voice to a comedic level, “We are at work.”

“Your point is?” 

“My point is-” you looked into his beautiful eyes with nothing but love and admiration, “-there are about five people who know about our relationship, and you know you can't get into a scandal, it will positively ruin your reputation, the reputation you-” you poked his chest with your finger, “-worked so hard to achieve.”

“Let them write what they want.” Jake spoke to you in a honey coated voice, as if you were the very oxygen his lunds consumed in order to keep themselves alive, “You, my love, are practically impossible to resist.”

“You better give me your Paris lessons when we get home,” you smirked, eyes wandering down to his lush lips again, “lover boy.” The space between the both of you was practically non-existent now, and Jake could feel the pearls of your dress slightly pierce him through his thin button-up shirt. Perhaps he regretted making such a beautiful dress, especially to dress you up in it, because the way the touch of your thigh on his and felt, he could rip it off right there and then, wasting his months of hard work, and devour you against the mirror. He wished he could see your divine eyes roll to the back of your head, while he ravished your pussy with his tongue, all whilst leaving his personal signature on your thighs. After all, that was what he added the thigh-high slit in the dress for.

“Yeun,” you warned him, as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, only stopping at the sound of your voice and giving a tight squeeze to the flesh, “You can have me all you want when we get home.” The sight of the pout on his face, a stark contrast to the siren eyes he held five seconds ago, made your mouth twist into a gentle smile.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow morning, love.” He smirked and went in for a kiss, as beautiful as the wavering skyline of the city, all the building lights flickering along with the stars to remind the earth of how alive it was. In the deepest parts of the kiss, where your lips danced to a tune which you had memorised, love reigned its gentle rule.

____________________________________

The sound of makeup palettes being tossed on tables and brushes full of powder and eyeshadow being dabbed against porcelain skin overwhelmed you. The world will always see the perfect last outcome, of straight eyeliner that could cut stone, legs that could send Gods to their knees begging for mercy, lips that anyone would want to press infinite kisses to, and bodies wrapped in artworks. But they would never see the background of it all, the painful ordeal of sitting in a chair for hours to manipulate the face of a doll. Your ass had already gone numb ten minutes ago. 

“Alright, spill it to me. You have transfiguration powers right?” you joked, looking at your hair-and-makeup artist, Sunoo, who was running his slender fingers through your hair, making sure every strand fell into its correct place.

 “I went through painful cosmetology courses, just for you to call me a witch?” Sunoo scoffed, surveying you with a satisfied look on his face, ”Gee thanks for the compliment Y/N.”

“I’m joking you asshole.” you rolled your eyes, taking his outstretched hand and helping yourself out of the chair. Your butt silently thanked you, as you stretched your limbs, “Well don't I look pretty today?”

“Yes hon, the show-stopper obviously has to look pretty.” Sunoo sassed, putting his hands on his hips, “Jake really outdid himself with this one though, I am loving the pearls.”

You tried to keep your smile to yourself at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. Jake had made some ‘structural’ changes to the dress a night before the show so that it would fit more alluringly on your body. That is to say, he made the changes after getting inspiration from an hour’s session in your bedroom. 

“I just hope everyone will like it!” you said with an air of happiness.

“Of course they will.” Sunoo reassured you, “because number 1, it's on you and number two, it is on you.” He spoke every word with force, giving you his foxy smile before disappearing, telling you to wait in the room until someone called you. 

Sighing to yourself for no particular reason, you went back to admiring yourself. You truly looked regal, like some badass assassin who was going to murder someone at her wedding, a gunshot wedding, would be the perfect theme for Jake's next show, you thought, taking a mental note to tell him. After all, he did love experimenting with his reds and his whites. The door to the room was slightly ajar, which allowed the sounds from outside to enter. You moved towards it to close it. Stopping at the handle, at the sound of your name. 

“...not like she even has much talent. She’s literally getting in because of her boyfriend.” one of the girls, dressed in mauve silk told the one next to her. 

‘Wait, her boyfriend?” You heard the other one say, now shielding yourself from view with the door whilst eavesdropping. “Yeah, I’ve heard rumours you know?” The mauve girl said, “that her boyfriend is Mr.Sim, the designer. It makes sense wouldn't it?” she let out a crude laugh, “She’s not even that pretty and suddenly she gets to be showstopper. Yep, she’s definitely whoring herself out.” She laughed again, along with the other girl.

You felt your stomach sink as you quietly closed the door, not wanting to hear anything else. Is that really what the other models thought of you? That you were only here because of Jake? That you were only using him for your own benefit? 

You stared at yourself in the mirror again, brushing back the slit to reveal your leg. Your eyes wandered down the length of your entire body. What you had once so happily admitted, now looked like an ugly piece of flesh to you. Each imperfection caught your eye and you could feel the tears brimming at your eyeline. 

“Y/N!” you heard Sunoo cry out. Quickly swallowing the lump in your throat, you called back out, feeling relieved to see his face appear in the doorway. “Come on hon, you’re on in two.” Sunoo smiled, “Ahh you look so pretty!” he smiled, extending his hand to help you walk outside in your heels, “They’re gonna love you.”

“Thanks Sun.” You managed a smile, stepping out onto the boundary of the runway, where the show manager would give you the cue to walk. Taking a deep breath, you took on an expression of calm, to represent the serene and elegant atmosphere of the dress. And with a wave of the manager’s hand, you walked.

One foot in front of the other, you stared at the imaginary dot in front of you, just like you had been taught, with your heels clacking perfectly to the beat of the background music. The walk to the end of the runway had always felt so long, and this time was no exception. But as you reached there, and struck your pose, smiling for the cameras to take their pictures, you couldn't help but think about what the girls were saying earlier. 

Not now Y/n, you thought to yourself, pushing that thought to the back of your head, and concentrating on your current position. Giving your signature grin to the cameras, you spun on your heel and walked back, stopping in the middle to reveal your leg from the slit. You could hear the excited murmur from the crowd, smiling to yourself at the satisfaction you got. You struck your final pose with all the other models assembled on the stage, and then the pandemonium of roses and applause broke out. The people clapped like never before, and you could hear someone calling out Jake's name. You remained in your position until you felt a warm presence next to you, skipping your hand into his and guiding you along with him down the runway again.

Jake had never looked so beautiful, you thought, with two spikes of his  hair framing his face perfectly, like a lion’s mane. You tried to not let your eyes linger down to his chest, which remained open against his suit. God damn did he look handsome. You couldn't remember much of anything that followed. All that you thought about was the warm feeling of Jake's hand against your skin, and the way he bragged to everyone about his showstopper. 

Yet, there was something at the back of your mind that kept biting you. 

____________________________________

“You’re quiet today, love.” Jake commented, as you silently put your washed plate back on the shelf. He had noticed how low you had been ever since coming back from the show. At first he brushed it off as you being tired, after all, modelling is no piece of cake. But the fact that you had spoken less than five words to him even after taking a nap was concerning. 

"Just...tired." You mumbled, giving him an unconvincing smile. Jake tilted his head to one side and motioned for you to sit down next to him on the couch. 

"And do tired people usually cook dinner for their boyfriends instead of ordering pizza?" He asked, making you chuckle, "What's wrong sweetheart?" Jake placed his hand gently on your thigh, leaning in closer to you. You took a shaky breath in. 

"Yeun, you love me right?" Jake's entire world seemed to pause at your question.

Whatever did he do to make you ask that ridiculous question?

"Baby what are you saying?" He asked, sending you a soft smile, "Of course I love you and if this is about me taking the last cookie, I swear I'll ask Jay to bake you more."

"No, it's not that." You laughed, bringing your head down, "It's stupid really, I shouldn't even be worried." You took another deep breath, "I just heard some of the girls talking to each other today, you know saying some crap about how I'm only the showstopper because I'm your girlfriend and everything." Before you knew it, you were rambling, "And I really do love you, you know. I'm not only in this relationship because I want to use you or something and i know I'm not really that pretty for you to love me but—"

"Y/N."

The sound of your name dropping from his lips silenced you. You stared down at your legs, fiddling with the edge of your (Jake's) shirt, until his fingers intertwined into yours. His touch was warm as always, comforting like the sea breeze on a beach day. 

"Baby, look at me." Jake said, prompting you to lift your head, "Properly, Y/N." He said again, when you avoided his eyes. Jake smiled when you finally looked him in the eye. 

"I don't want you to ever think even for a second that you're not the most beautiful human being I've ever met." Your eyes widened at his soft words, "Baby, you were the showstopper today, because you worked hard for it, not because you're my girlfriend and the love of my life." A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, "And I'm going to need the names of those girls right now, for extremely unrelated reasons."

You burst out laughing, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your right eye. "Are you going to murder them for me?" You asked, to which Jake put his finger to his temple and pretended to think, "I'm not going to bail you out Yeun." You said, slapping his chest playfully. 

"But seriously though—" Jake's eyes softened, as he took your hands in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them, "—I love you so much, I'd go to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to." He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "And if anyone ever thinks that you didn't work your fine ass off to get where you are, they'll be very close to the 'Jake firing list'." 

A moment of silence followed before the both of you burst out laughing at his statement. Jake took the opportunity to pull you by your waist closer to you. 

"Well then—" Your eyes wandered from his eyes to his lips, "—can I perhaps see that list?" Your body was practically merged with Jake's, with his hands slapped on your waist, and your arms around his neck. 

"Well then we would have to go to my studio wouldn't we?" Jake said in a lower tone, biting his lip. His eyes stayed on yours, as he swiftly lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips for support. Your breasts were extremely close to his face, a fact which Jake was relishing. A giggle erupted out of your mouth as his hands gave a squeeze to your buttcheek, his feet slowly leading the both of you into the bedroom. 

“I assume your studio is your bedroom then?” You laughed, as Jake entered the darkly lit bedroom, the only source of light being the faded night lamp that he kept for ‘the aesthetic’. Jake chuckled before going in for a kiss.

It started as a small kiss. A peck. A brush of the lips so gentle you barely felt it until he pressed his mouth to yours fully. There was no tongue, nor any breathlessness when he pulled away and looked at you again. But you could feel the shift in the air. The drop in your stomach and sudden stillness in the room while a white noise clouded your head. 

“The bed is right there, Yeun.” You said, eyeing him suspiciously as he carried you across the bed and towards the huge dressing mirror. Jake said nothing, choosing to set you down very close to the mirror, while his hands gripped your waist. He knew he had gotten you trapped in between his arms, just the way you liked it. You’re a little light-headed, blistered beneath the skin, needy and fidgeting. Maybe you want him to hold you still, to fit you tight against him, to fight against your struggle—something carnal deep down that gets off on his strength, the power you know he can wield over you.

“How about I show my beautiful princess how pretty she really is hm?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck ever so slightly.

He manoeuvred you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is the prettiest one I've ever seen. How can you say she's ugly?” You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. 

 He began to press you flat against the mirror. The cool touch of glass on your cheeks combined with his hands reaching underneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts made you let out an unholy noise. Jake smirked as he heard you moan, his ego was filled to the brim as he realised how wet he made you just from his touch. 

“Ah fuck Yeun,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. You barely had time to notice his hands leave your chest, as he grabbed the edges of your shirt and pulled it off of you in one swift motion, leaving you almost naked in your bra and panties. You felt his erection press through his pants to your ass, as his lips started trailing down your body, pressing heavenly kisses until your hips. You whined as his hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them as if they were stress toys. 

"You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, his legs now carrying him back up to place his chin on your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and you won't get to cum.”

 His hands squeeze your thighs harder, bordering on pain. “Shh princess,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit.

 At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure. 

Jake's finger flicked out against your clit again, making you yelp and squeeze your thighs against his hand. Your hand pressed hard against the mirror, as you looked at Jake's smug face behind you, while yours was contorted into one of absolute pleasure. This time he ran his finger up to your clit and then back down and into you. You moaned, practically riding his fingers at this point. Jake laughed, digging his hands into your hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

"Yeun—Yeun ah fuck!" A string of broken moans escaped your lips, as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Your mind has forgotten all about the incident of the morning, your attention now only on the way his fingers fit inside your pussy, like a glove. The pace of his fingers fastened, as his middle finger drove across your clit, repeatedly assaulting the place Jake knew drove you crazy.

"Yeun!" You screamed, your tears staining the mirror, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing when Jake's fingers pulled out, “Wh-”

“Told you princess.” His mutter in that seductive australian accent of his drove you crazy, “Eyes away from the mirror means no cumming.” You silently seethed at him smirking behind your shoulder, as his lips latched onto your skin once more, pressing marks all over as if it were his personal signature. His fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your panties, as you easily moved them off of you, with you lifting your legs to give him better access. Jake chuckled silently with how obedient you were being. Soon, he was quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. 

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance.

Your eyes widened and hurried, almost rushing gasps left your mouth in quick succession which, combined with the low guttural groans coming out of Jake’s throat created an almost perfect melody. His thick length was taking its sweet time in spilling your ass apart, completely tearing you open, until you were panting from just the entrance. Jake’s low, mocking chuckles left your mind empty, as his hands pulled your waist flush against him, trying to bury his cock in even deeper.

“Yeun-I can’t!” you cried out in desperation, although all you wanted was for the entirety of his length to be bruised deep inside you, “Slow down!”

Your whines resonated against the walls of the room, as light particles of fog started appearing on the surface of the mirror, gathering at the place where your mouth was repeatedly moaning both profanities and Jake’s name, turn by turn. The tip of his cock was practically hitting your cervix at this point, and you were on the verge of fainting, with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Eyes on the mirror, princess.” Jake reminded you, smirking at your fucked out expression. He always did love making you feel like putty in his hands, and this was no exception. Your eyes snapped back to your reflection and they trailed over Jaeyun behind you. His handsome face was set like a painting, with two strands of his hair framing it in a delightfully sexy way.

His hips hit you harder, giving you every inch of him. “Fuckkk.. princess, you’re doing such a good job -- taking me so goddamn well,” he says, punctuating his words with another hard thrust.

His expression grows almost enamoured at how you're squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible, squeal from you as he pinches your clit.

He fucks you in earnest, feeding you his cock like you haven’t had a meal in years. All you can do is watch, admire the look of his face, the perspiration that gathers on the edge of his hairline as his fingers grip your legs harder. 

You’re a babbling mess — crying out with every thrust. It’s mostly wordless, except for when his name leaves your lips like a prayer. The room is filled with the sound of his balls slapping your ass, that wanton sound of skin-on-skin.

“Fuck-gonna cum.” You hear him mutter in that same sultry voice that could get you cumming without him even touching you.

“Yeun, ah—ah,” you moan, but he cuts you off, the sound of skin-on-skin fills the air.

Jake groans as his balls draw up and begin to tighten. Now deep inside you, as the pressure finally breaks and he lets himself go, spilling every ounce of him into you. Heaven and hell collide in that moment, blurring into a world where only you exist—like nothing else matters but the two of you tangled together, lost in the alchemy of it all. You feel the hot liquid drip down your thighs as you lay your forehead against the mirror, your chest riding and falling periodically as you attempt to calm down. You were so caught up in your cock-drunk high that you didn't even notice Jake pulling out slowly, releasing more of his cum onto your skin.

"Good girl....took me so well." Jake praised you in muttered words from behind, making his own breathing steady, "Bed, baby?" 

"Thank you." You sighed, feeling sleepy as ever, completely oblivious of the fact that Jake was not about to put you to sleep. 

You couldn't comprehend what happened in the next few moments, just the fact that in what seemed like mere seconds, your back was pressed against the soft mattress, with Jake's face inches from yours as he loomed above you. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Think you can take my cock again, pretty?" He asked you, with a lopsided smirk on his face, "Or is my baby too tired?" 

"N-No." You stuttered, the feeling of his breath on your skin made you shiver, no matter how warm it was. You must have been in this position at least a hundred times, but it always got you feeling like it was your first time when you were all nervous and shaking beneath him.  

Jake chuckled, pressing another one of the thousand kisses he had given you, and reached over (with some difficulty) to the bedside drawer. Pulling it open, he drew something out. 

"How about these for tonight hm?" He asked, dangling the handcuffs above your face, "Will you be a good girl for me?" 

You said nothing, dumbly nodding to his every word. Jake took your wrists in his hand and pinned them above your head. Your arms stretched properly, before he latched them up to the bed frame, you winced at the cold touch of the metal. You always had wondered why the frame was made up of twisting coils of iron, before you got your answer in the form of handcuffs.

Jake leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing you. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his teeth grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, ever so cocky to see you melting into his touch

Jake settles between your legs, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, but you can't. Your hands are bound with the cuffs so tightly, that you couldn't even reach the lock.

You can only cry into the dark night, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. 

“Yeun—S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain your face.

The back of your head presses as tight as it can against the pillow, you were stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Jake’s cock and be happy. Your hands, bound tightly above you, itched to reach out and take his hair into your hands.

With a tight grip on your waist Jake fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic. 

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but he knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keep you from cumming.

“Yeun–Jaeyun~” You whine, already so close to cumming, “Please–let me cum,”

Jake responds with a harsh chuckle, almost a scoff, as if to ask how you even dared to say those words. His already slow movements slow down even more, practically stopping at the point, which only made you titchy and uncomfy. That boundary that was present at the pit of your stomach was ready to break, but Jake wasn't about to let it.

“Not until you say you’re my pretty girl.” He smirks, his cock still buried deep inside you, unmoving. You scoff at his words.

“I'm your pretty girl.” you say, in an almost bored voice, wanting nothing more than for him to get moving, “Now can you please–”

Your sentence faded into a deep groan, as Jake's cock swiftly pulled out from your pussy. It was painful, agonising even, to feel nothing but cool air at the tip of our labia.

“Nicer, baby.” Jake whispered, but just as you opened your mouth, you were stopped by the intrusion of his long finger into your gasping hole.He chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. His gaze is still trained on you, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. He loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying. 

“Alright, I'll give you a little help.” Jake says, his free hand reaching cover to your hands. With a click sound, the handcuffs trottled off of you, leaving your hands free to finally reach out to him. But he wouldn't let you, not until you've done what he wanted you to do. 

“Did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head once more. “Answer me, princess.” 

“Yes!” You screamed out, unable to take his teasing anymore,”Yes–fuck I’m your pretty girl!” And that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out. 

“Yeun…I-I need you more please.” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. Such a mess in such a small time. Jake shuts his eyes and throws his head back.. 

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind your pussy over his lower belly. Jake’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust, “God–I love you so much!” Your last words faded out in a scream.

“Yeun, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. You feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. The room smells of him, like cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. He’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own. 

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you to titter over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

 He’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. You feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. His groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. He sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

"fucking hell..." You hear him swear under his breath, wincing at the absence of your hole wrapped around him. Nevertheless, he swiftly moves towards the bathroom, to fetch you a towel. You didn't have even an ounce of energy in your body to lift your head, so you resorted to letting it stay on the pillow, whilst your legs stopped shaking from the wondrous orgasms that your body had experienced.

"Baby do you wanna take a b-" Jake froze, at the foot of the bed, towel clutched in hand, and eyes set on you. You looked so calm and serene, taking shallow breaths as you snuggled into the mattress and slept. Jake chuckled at the sight.

Not wanting to wake you up, he gently wiped your legs with the towel, and—after cleaning himself off, slipped into the bed next to you. You automatically adjusted to his warm body next to you, practically throwing yourself onto him and using him like a mattress, but he didn't mind. Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and only squeezed you closer, as if you'd float away if he let go.

"I love you." He muttered with a lovesick smile on his face, before he eventually drifted off to sleep, "My pretty baby."

Fin.

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