#the saints come marching in

[mournfulroses]

Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton; "The Saints Come Marching In,"

[arcanespillo]

Hi! In the Dean dog webweaving, where's the first quote ("the sheep or the horse numb as the moon need god to be sung to them the dog needs it too he is sick of dead bodies") from? I looked up March is March and I couldn't find those lines

anon you are so right !! i switched it by accident with another dog motif poem, this is the full thing and it's from anne sexton's complete poem collection, also thank you for asking because now i fixed my post too lol

[melophobia2013]

[ID:

Saints have no moderation,

nor do poets,

just exuberance

/end ID]

The Saints Come Marching In, Anne Sexton

[conclavevisualnovel]

Delectatio Morosa: A Conclave Visual Novel

We’re very excited to announce Delectatio Morosa: A Conclave Visual Novel coming soon in early March!

Play as Dean Thomas Cardinal Lawrence as he prepares for an All Saints’ Day Celebration at the Vatican, and try to manage his fellow Curia members too!

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 6/7

Happy Pride!!!

Boys Weekend HC -  Mattie Lubchansky

Part satire, part horror, Boys Weekend explores what it's like to exist as a transfemme person in a man's world, the difficulty of maintaining friendships through transition, and the more cult-like effects of masculinity, "hustle" culture, and capitalism-all through the vibrant lens of a surreal, scary, and immensely imaginative romp. Newly-out trans artist's assistant Sammie is invited to an old friend's bachelor weekend in El Campo, a hedonistic wonderland of a city floating in the Atlantic Ocean's international waters-think Las Vegas with even fewer rules. Though they have not identified as a man for over a year, Sammie's college buddies haven't quite gotten the message-as evidenced by their formerly closest friend Adam asking them to be his "best man." Bad enough that they have to suffer through a torrent of passive-aggressive comments from the groom's pals-all met with zero pushpack from supposed "nice guy" Adam. But also, they seem to be the only one who's noticed the mysterious cult that's also staying at the hotel, and is ritually dismembering guests and demanding fealty to their bloodthirsty god.

The Comics Journal Yearbook: Best of 2022

In this supplement to The Comics Journal magazine (free for subscribers), critics/cartoonists highlight the most innovative, risky, and unapologetically artistic English-language comics work of 2022. Interviews, essays and excerpts make this an essential guide for what is happening in comics right now. Contributors include Ryan Carey, RJ Casey, Cristian Castelo, Helen Chazan, Austin English, November Garcia, Joe McCulloch, Chantal McStay, Pratap and Sophie Yanow.

Dictatorship: It’s Easier Than You Think! HC -  Sarah Kendzior, Andrea Chalupa & Kasia Babis

Do you crave the power to shape the world in your image? Can you tell lies without blinking an eye? Do you see enemies all around you? If you answered yes to all of the above, then this is the job for you! And if becoming a dictator sounds intriguing, well, you've just stumbled upon the playbook that will guide you step by step toward making your big lie a reality. Join Gaslit Nation cohosts Sarah Kendzior and Andrea Chalupa, with artist Kasia Babis, on a journey from riches to even more riches. They'll show you how to consolidate your authority, silence your critics, weaponize your citizens, and even prolong your inevitable downfall!

Do Not Say Mystery Omnibus GN Vol 1 -  Osamu Nishi

Totonou is a young man who stands out-partly for his bushy hair, partly for his finely honed abilities of observation and deduction. When Totonou is accused of murder, he puts his skills to work delving into the lives of the cops investigating him and uses his insights to find the real murderer. After clearing his name, all Totonou wants to do is return to his laidback, mundane life, but he can't help but be drawn into one mystery after another. In his own blunt but gentle way, Totonou is just trying to make sense of a chaotic world.

Fence: Redemption #1 (of 4) -  C.S. Pacat & Johanna the Mad

Return to the thrilling world of high-stakes, competitive fencing with a brand new story featuring the beloved cast of characters from the original hit series!  Are Senji and Jesse really through? The rumors around Halverton, the prestigious fencing training camp, have spread like wildfire, but it's not long before a mystery fencer arrives-one who may finally pose a threat to the #1 spot. Will Senji's unquenchable quest for rivalry be what finally makes him leave Nicholas behind?  

In Hell We Fight! #1 - John Layman & Jok

Life in hell ain't easy. Demons try to torture you for all eternity. Monsters want to eat you. There's a stunning lack of reliable indoor plumbing. And it's almost impossible to get ice cream. At least, until today, when three condemned teens and their annoying tagalong demon frenemy embark on a daring scheme to hijack a demon lord's delivery truck. What happens next will take them on an epic journey across the underworld, an infernal excursion of nonstop excitement, danger, and adventure.

Inferno Girl: Red TP Vol 1 -  Matt Groom, Erica D'Urso, & Igor Monti

Apex City is a globally recognised hub of progress and beacon of hope-until it's ripped out of our universe by an ancient cult and its army of demons. The only one who can save it is its newest resident, teen Cássia Costa, after a magical dragon bracelet rockets into her life. But the bracelet is powered by belief, and a life of hardship has left Cássia with little of that to spare. When all seems lost, can Cássia rekindle her belief in a better tomorrow to embrace a secret legacy, save her mother's life, and light the way as INFERNO GIRL RED?  

Joan Jett & The Blackhearts: I Love Rock ‘N’ Roll GN 

Comics' biggest talents come together to form an exciting all woman team of creators and bring you stories to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Joan Jett's seminal albums!

Bad Reputation and I Love Rock 'n' Roll hit audiences like an atom bomb, defining a sound that became a soundtrack that would span generations. Now, in celebration of the 40th anniversary of these seminal albums, an unparalleled team of women creators bring these songs to life as 20 stories.  

Kroma TP -  Lorenzo De Felici

The critically acclaimed prestige series from LORENZO DE FELICI (OBLIVION SONG) arrives in a new graphic novel collection for fans of ULTRAMEGA and The Many Deaths of Laila Starr.

Imprisoned in a tower within the walls of Pale City, Kroma lives her days out in darkness, believing she is the most evil thing on Earth. However, where her people see a monster, the mysterious orphan Zet sees a human. But if either of them is to survive the city's strange rituals and customs, they will have to overcome the cruel fate of Kroma...even if it means risking certain death beyond the walls in the jaws of giant lizards and enormous birds of prey.

Lore Olympus Vol 4 GN  -  Rachel Smythe

An ingenious take on the Greek Pantheon, Lore Olympus is a modern update on the story of Hades and Persephone. Follow the propulsive love story of two Greek gods, told with lavish artwork and contemporary sensibilities. This full-color edition of Smythe's original Eisner Award-winning webcomic Lore Olympus features exclusive behind-the-scenes content and brings Greek mythology into the modern age. This volume collects episodes 76-102 of the WEBTOON comic.

March Comes In Like A Lion GN Vol 1 -  Chica Umino

Rei Kiriyama is a child prodigy. Rei Kiriyama is also an orphan who lives alone in an empty apartment. Rei Kiriyama is a teen working in an adult's world. Life is complicated for Rei. He's an up-and-coming shogi (Japanese chess) player on the verge of turning pro but he has no home life-or much of a life period outside his board game-but thankfully with the help of some life-long friends he has an opportunity start all over again.

Niki De Saint Phalle: The Story Of Her Life GN -  Monica Foggia & Valeria Quattrocchi

Few artists' lives are as inspiring as that of Niki de Saint Phalle. While she started her career as a fashion model, a subsequent breakdown led to her taking up painting as therapy. Entirely self-taught, Niki spent the rest of her years devoted to art that was based in emotional truth and a feminist point of view. This graphic novel follows Niki's extraordinary career, from her early "shooting pictures," in which she fired bullets at bags of paint, to the creation of the exuberantly formed life-sized dolls she called "Nanas," which established her as an international success.  

Once Upon A Time At The End Of The World TP Vol 1 -  Jason Aaron, Alexandre Tefenkgi, Nick Dragotta & Mike Del Mundo

Love in the Wasteland" kicks off the first arc of this epic trilogy that spans a lifetime as the dark mysteries of a ruined world and their own stark differences tear at the threads holding Mezzy and Maceo together. As they endure the horrors of plastic tornadoes and frozen sludge, Maceo proves to be more than just a burden, and they make an unlikely connection. But to their peril... they might not be as alone as they thought...

Suee & The Strange White Light GN -  Ginger Ly & Molly Park

Suee and the Zero Detective Club are back and ready to unravel some mysteries! However, other than a bunch of missing cat cases, there really isn't too much to solve... until Smartie, Suee's kid-nemesis from her old school, goes missing leaving only one clue: Central City. Nemesis or not, it's up to Suee and the rest of the Zero Detective Club members to find her. But Smartie's disappearance isn't the only weird thing going on in this part of town. There's an army of workers in white uniforms installing strange devices, and all the adults have started acting bizarre and ignoring their kids. With all these odd occurrences, it's up to the Zero Detective Club of Outskirtsville to find out what's going on!

The Sickness #1 -  Jenna Cha & Lonnie Nadler

Feeling sick? The Man may be following you... 1945: Daniel Buss, an anxious teenager living in small-town America, has been experiencing strange symptoms: mood swings, increased sensitivity, and terrifying hallucinations, threatening to ruin his summer vacation before freshman year. Worse, a stalking presence watches Daniel's every move. 1955: George Brooks-war vet and tireless doctor-nears retirement from his decorated past. When a local housewife murders her entire family, her son-the sole survivor-is put into his care; George grows obsessed with uncovering what could drive an ordinary person to such brutality.  Though they live a decade apart, their fates intertwine through a horrifying illness and the haunting figure who follows wherever they go.

Tiger Tiger Book 1 GN -  Petra Erika Nordlund

In this Eisner-nominated swashbuckling tale, the young lady Ludo--a pampered Victorian noble--dreams of romance and adventure. Spurred by a desire to explore, she steals her brother's identity and sails across the world. While searching for love, adventure, and enough material to write a book about her favorite sea creatures, otherworldly mysteries await in the dark depths of the sea. Follow Finnish artist Petra Erika Nordlund's thrilling and hilarious adventure, packed with sword fights, nasty villains, and the exploration of dangerous, uncharted lands!

Turning Japanese Expanded Edition HC -  MariNaomi

The year is 1995. Fresh out of a long-term relationship, twenty-two-year-old MariNaomi finds herself amidst a flurry of major life changes. Newly immersed in the pan-Asian diaspora of San Jose, California, half-Japanese Mari searches for connections to a culture that has so far eluded her. It doesn't take long for Mari to find new love and a new job--at a hostess bar for Japanese expats--in a bid to learn the language and culture. Turning Japanese follows Mari from Northern California to Tokyo, Japan, as she tries to get by in an unfamiliar city with rudimentary language skills--all in the hopes of finally connecting with her Japanese relatives without the use of her mother as a translator.

Whatcha scooping up this week, Fantom Fam?

[fauvester]

all things considered this subrotation hasnt been bad but I really want to impress my fellow and attending and it's stressing me out. but i remembered briefly that i work in a place where the music therapist walks through the halls playing guitar and one my my kids is literally a baby that i can pick up and hold whenever i want

having a breakdown because I got positive feedback is probably a sign that I need to reconsider getting professional help for my imposter syndrome

[namelessgakusei]

Devil May Cry x Reader

EP. 0 Down the Rabbit Hole

Warnings: it's dmc, based on the new Netflix series, reader insert fic, not proofread

Notes: I have like six drafts for Mark and major exams in a few days but I really, really need to get this out my system. Will fix this tomorrow or after exams. Add. note: Gaku of two days later here, hehehe I feel like a 13 year old that writes in wattpad again.

It happened during the night in Vatican City.

Birds cawed faintly outside, as the lull of the night comes to its peak. Statues of saints and historical figures lined up inside the building, serene and undisturbed by outside forces— all while ropes came down from a height and comes down a group of armed men.

The halls are silent, save for the occasional marching of Pontifical Swiss Guards on watch, spears in hand as they round the area. They fail to notice the intruders slipping past as their cameras get hacked and bombs get placed.

A single explosion started it all, as the way to the underground vaults was compromised. Guards take on their weapons, spears, which proved powerless against the men's bullets, ending with them all dead.

Display cases were broken and artifacts that looked like they have monetary value were seized as the thieves raided the vault. A single, ominous sword was left untouched due to its rusty and worn down state, in favor of the gold and rubies adorning the items around it.

"Well, this is awkward."

Immediately, the men went up with their arms pointed at the source of the voice, and out comes a man with a rabbit head, dressed formally and sauntering with poise. "I didn't realized the heist had such a specific dress code."

"And here I came in my Easter best."

The rabbit man grinned, his brooch, a single blue shard, glowed amidst the darkness.

Despite their initial confusion, the terrorists took aim at the creature before them. But their target easily lifted their hands in surrender, assuring that there's no need for violence while also sarcastically describing their nationality.

"Americans. Anything that doesn't fit your narrow understanding, you shoot, you bomb, or burn without hesitation."

The bunny man chuckled wryly, passing through the group with ease and heading towards the lone, intact glass case at the end of the room. "And look where it's gotten you."

"Four so-called soldiers of fortune stealing common stones for a mere 2.5 million," Instantly, the newcomer was surrounded, but the rabbit man paid no mind, opting to focus on the objective in front of him. The poor attempt of stanchions to prevent people from approaching the sword was easily slapped away. "—when there's something right in front of you that is beyond earthly value."

"How did you—?!"

"I was the one who offered it." The rabbit man cuts them off, pushing too hard on the glass to break it open. With a split of a moment, the sword was drawn and the corrosion that once covered its blade broke off, revealing its true form. Glowing ominously purple, the weapon thrummed with energy on the hands of its wielder.

"The Force Edge." Of course, the alarms went off the moment it was out of its fragile prison. "Sword of the demon knight, Sparda." Guards are heard from outside the vault, marching towards the source of alarm. "Ironic, isn't it?" The rabbit man smirked, sending fear coursing through the thieves. "That such a holy place would house the most powerful weapon of Hell?"

"Then again, Hell, as you call it, has always been the true heart of human religion." The rabbit man sneered at his co-conspirators. "You can curb the worst of your savageries only through collective fear and hatred of another world."

"My world."

At last, those men who surround him finally had enough, threatening him to give them their reward or the inevitable will happen. The rabbit man assured them that they'll receive what they are owed as he slices off the guy's neck with the sword. A glint appears in his eyes as the head rolls off. With a broad grin, the rabbit man parried the barrage of bullets shot at him, with it ricocheting off the walls and breaking the glass cases around them, realizing that they're being hit by their own bullets, they stopped, only to give the rabbit man a small opening to strike. With the strength that exceeds human capabilities, one of the men was thrown to a pillar by an elbow jab, breaking his insides as he bled to death. It was all for themselves as chaos ensued. Those who remain alive shot recklessly at nothing before they were either sliced or bludgeoned to death. The rabbit man giggled as he delivered the final blow, digging the sword down someone's throat as the Swiss Guards surround him, blanching at the grotesque sight.

"Here we stand together on the threshold of a new age," The bloodied white rabbit held out a detonator, grinning at the fearful guards. "The age of the Demon."

"This world is about to become much, much larger."

"Well, not for you." The rabbit man pressed the button, activating the bombs planted around the building, burying the humans alive as pillars fell onto them. Fire engulfed everything on sight, with the lone white rabbit standing at the center of it all, grinning maniacally.

EP. 1 INFERNO: A violent heist at a Vatican City museum sparks chaos, pulling unsuspecting demon hunters Dante and (Y/N) into a sinister plot to forge a rift between worlds.

EP. 1.1 IGNITION: After a botched demon hunting, you and Dante hoped for some reprieve in Fredy's diner, only to come face to face with Dante's long dead twin brother. EP. 1.2 COMBUSTION: His "brother" turned out to be a shapeshifting demon, who was targeting his mother's memento for some reason. Extra EP. 1.3 CONFLAGRATION: Unbeknownst to you and Dante, there are people plotting to bring the two of you down.

EP. 2 OUR LADY OF SORROWS: In Washington, DARKCOM gathers a group of mercenaries and offers a bounty to bring in Dante—and the family heirloom that hangs around his neck.

EP. 2.1 Lead us not into temptation: Mercenaries are hired, and a bounty was put over your heads. Enzo still insists on being your Dad despite it being untrue.

EP. 2.2 And deliver us from evil: The fight for Dante's pendant finally starts.

EP. 2.3 Amen.: The black haired lady got ahold of his amulet.

EP. 3 THE DEEP AND SAVAGE WAY: A flashback sheds light on your past. In the present, a convoy with previous cargo hits a roadblock as the White Rabbit creeps closer to his prey.

EP 3.1 This is how you shoot: Your capture made you dream about a past long gone.

EP 3.2: Take Aim: The lady reveals a bit of your past and the Vice President reveals Dante's. You get ambushed by the White Rabbit.

EP 3.2 And pull the trigger: You made some far-fetched conclusions over not-so-circumstantial evidences. Dante's amulet got merged with the White Rabbit's. You get caught, again.

EXTRA EP ANDERS: A man who's just trying to live a good life, ends up getting a visit from a ghost of a rabbit.

EP. 4 ALL HOPE ABANDON: The amulet's signal leads DARKCOM to a run-down apartment building. But is it really the Rabbit's lair... Or a trap? Dante learns his true origins

EP 4.1 Belief and Perception: A recorded message from the White Rabbit tests your relationship with Dante.

EP 4.2 Faith and Inhibition: The demons decided to torture Dante one last time before they blow up the plane. Someone "dies" before you all fall to your death and you gain something out of it.

EXTRA EP. 4.3 Rabbiting (cont.) TBA

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Protector ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

GENRE: non!idol au, mafia boss!Jungkook, shy reader, first date, insta love, cute, 

PAIRING: Mafia!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

In the dimly lit corner of a rundown bar, Jungkook, the notorious mafia boss of the city, sat perched on his usual stool, observing the evening's patrons with a keen eye. The air was thick with the scent of cheap liquor and the murmur of conversations that veered between laughter and tension. He'd only come here tonight after a deal gone wrong with one of his clients and he wanted to make himself feel better.

Jungkook nursed his whiskey, his gaze scanning the room, taking note of the faces and the subtle shifts in atmosphere. His reputation preceded him, ensuring that even in a place as rough as this, there was an unspoken deference in the air. Amidst the usual crowd, a scene caught his attention. 

You were sitting alone at a table, your demeanour timid and your eyes darting nervously around the room, clearly you weren't comfortable in a place like this and people could see it clearly as day. Opposite you stood a man, clearly inebriated, his boisterous laughter ringing through the bar. He leaned in too close, his words slurred as he attempted to coax the girl into drinking with him.

Junkook's lip curled in distaste, he didn't need to be close to knowing that the guy was making you uncomfortable, he could read the expression on your face from where he was sitting. Jungkook wasn't one to meddle in the affairs of strangers, but something about the situation didn't sit right with him. You seemed extremely uncomfortable, your body language tense as you awkwardly refused the man's advances.

"Boss? Cat got your tongue?" Benny, one of Jungkook's associates, asked as he sat down beside him. Jungkook narrowed his eyes in your direction and Benny followed his line of gaze, standing up when he realised what his boss wanted. He smoothly began to make his way across the room, positioning himself nearby, ready to intervene if needed.

Meanwhile, Jungkook continued to watch from his vantage point, his eyes narrowed as he assessed the unfolding situation. The man's persistence bordered on aggression, his demeanour growing increasingly threatening as you continued to resist his advances.

"Just have a drink with me doll face, you'll not regret it," He chuckled, leaning in closer to you, his breath heavy with the scent of vodka as he smirked down at you. You didn't know how many times you had to decline the creep before he finally got the message but it was starting to get under your skin.

"Come on, sweetheart, loosen up a bit! What's the matter, afraid of a little fun?" You nervously shifted in your seat and shook your head. 

"I-I'm fine, really. I don't drink much." You explained, not that you needed to. Your decline should have been more than enough for him to leave you alone.

"Aw, don't tell me you're one of those goody-two-shoes types. Live a little! You're missing out on all the excitement." He said condescendingly with a giant smile on his face, you forced a fake smile out.

"I-I'm okay, honestly. I just prefer not to drink." You shrugged at him but the man just raised his eyebrow mockingly at you.

"Prefer not to drink? Ha! What are you, some kind of saint? Or are you just too scared to handle your liquor?" You looked down at your hands, nervously starting to play with the skin around your nails,

"N-no, it's not that. I just... I don't like the taste, that's all." You mumbled,

"Well, if you're too delicate for a little drink, maybe you should stick to your tea parties, princess. Leave the real fun to us grown-ups." You bit down on your lip, wanting nothing more than to get up and leave but he was blocking you in. 

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I just... I'm not comfortable drinking." By now Jungkook was already standing behind the man, staring down at him as he laughed at you, the discomfort on your face only growing as you stared at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Jungkook said simply, the man who had been bothering you, spinning around so fast to see who had been the one to interrupt him. The man's eyes widened in recognition, a flicker of fear crossing his face as he realized who stood before him.

"Problem here?" Jungkook's voice was low, but it carried a weight that brooked no argument. You stared at him wondering why he was coming to help you of all people, you knew who he was, of course, everybody did. The man who had been bothering you stammered, his bravado faltering in the face of Jungkook's steely gaze. 

"N-no, boss, just... just having a friendly chat with the lady here." Jungkook turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly as he offered you a reassuring smile. 

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" Tingles ran through you at the nickname and you smiled a little, nodding your head, relief washing over you as you found yourself under his protective gaze.

"Y-yes, thank you. I... I just wanted to be left alone." You told him simply, Jungkook nodded, his gaze returning to the man who had been upsetting you,

"I suggest you do as the lady wishes and leave her be. We wouldn't want any... misunderstandings, would we?" His hand tightened on the man's shoulder and he paled, nodding frantically as he began to stumble away from the table, eager to put a distance between him and Jungkook.

Once the man was gone Jungkook turned his attention back to you and gave you a soft and gentle smile. 

"You're safe now. Can I buy you a drink? Non-Alcohol of course," He suggested, you hesitated for a moment before nodding, a shy smile tugging on the corners of your lips.

"I... I'd like that."

When Jungkook came back over with a drink you found yourselves alone, people staring in silence from across the bar and you stared down at the glass of water trying to think of what to say to him.

"So, what's your name?" He chuckled, trying to break the ice, even a little, you nervously played with the rim of your glass.

"It's YN." He nodded at you.

"Nice to meet you, Yn. I'm Jungkook." You managed a small smile, feeling surprisingly at ease in his presence despite his intimidating reputation.

"Thank you for, you know, helping me back there. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't stepped in." Jungkook shrugged at you, 

"No need to thank me. Just doing what's right. That guy was bad news."

"Yeah, he definitely was." A moment of silence passed between you both before Jungkook decided to break the ice further.

"So, what brings you to a place like this, Yn? You seem like you'd be more comfortable in a library than a bar." You laughed softly, grateful for Jungkook's attempt to lighten the mood.

"I... I actually work nearby. I just wanted to unwind a bit after a long day." You admit, shrugging your shoulders.

"My co-workers talk about this place all the time, I thought it might be nice." You admit though you weren't exactly sure "nice" would be the word you would use to describe it

"I understand that. It can be tough out there. I hope he didn't ruin your night though,"

"It seems to be picking up," You giggled, your cheeks heating up as you realised you were openly flirting with him. 

"Then I'm glad I could help," He smirks at you.

As you talked, Jungkook found himself intrigued by your quiet strength and resilience. Despite your shyness, there was a certain warmth to you that drew him in. And you, in turn, found yourself opening up to him in a way you hadn't expected, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence. The conversation flowed easily, ranging from lighthearted topics to deeper reflections on life and the challenges you faced. As the evening wore on, you discovered a connection neither of you had anticipated, forging an unlikely bond over glasses of water and whiskey in a dingy bar, where you found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of the world outside.

As they drove through the quiet streets, a comfortable silence settled between you both, broken only by the soft hum of the engine. Jungkook had insisted on driving you home that night after spending so much time together and the closer he got to your place the more he realised he wanted to see you again. You arrived at your apartment building, Jungkook parked the car and turned to you with a warm smile.

"Here we are. Safe and sound." You nodded, offering him a grateful smile in return as you unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car, swiftly followed by Jungkook.

"Thank you for the ride, Jungkook. And for everything else tonight. I really appreciate it." Nodding at you he smiled again, watching you closely as he tried to come up with a way to approach you about seeing you again.

"Anytime, Yn. You know where to find me if you ever need anything." Before you could open the door to your apartment, Jungkook reached out to gently touch your arm, causing you to look up at him in surprise.

"Can I say something?" His palms were sweating as he stuttered a little, no one had ever made him this nervous before and he didn't know if he liked that about you or not. Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, a hint of nervousness flickering in your eyes.

"Y-yes, Jungkook? What is it?" Jungkook took a deep breath, gathering his courage before speaking, he needed to ask you before he lost the courage.

"I... I had a really great time tonight. And I was wondering if... if you'd like to go out with me again sometime?" Your eyes widened in surprise, heat creeping into your cheeks at Jungkook's unexpected question. It was something you'd been thinking about in the car too but you never would have been able to ask him out. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

"I-I would love to. That sounds... that sounds wonderful." You giggled a little as Jungkook's face broke into a relieved smile, his heart skipping at your response. He leaned in closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Great. I'll pick you up then. I'll see you soon." Your heart raced as you watched him drive away, a smile playing on your lips as you realized that sometimes, unexpected encounters could lead to the most extraordinary connections.

[wynnyfryd]

ventura highway

written for @steddiemicrofic march prompt ‘ride’ + 453 words | rated T | fluff, slice of life, religion, smoking, recreational drug use (it’s only marijuana, dad)

—

Driving around with Eddie is weird. He hotboxes without asking; his music’s weird as shit.

…Steve likes it.

Eddie’s idling outside when Steve’s shift ends, so it’s a no brainer to say yes when he leans out his window like a dog and asks, “Come for a ride?”

Windows up; fresh cigarette; a few rounds of small talk, then Eddie goes, “Son of a bitch I love this song!!!”

Cranks the volume too high to talk. Steve doesn’t mind.

Eventually they roll up to a red light. “Well, goddamn,” Eddie whistles. “The Lutherans are beating me at my own game.”

“Huh?”

He turns the radio down, points out a church sign off the side of the road. Dingy backlit marquee, big black capital letters: WE ARE DUST MADE SACRED BY THE BREATH OF GOD.

“See? That’s metal as shit.”

“The church sign? Really?”

“Mmmmhm.” Eddie’s grinning like Dustin when he’s real pleased about some new science-themed pick-up line for his dork-ass Mormon girlfriend.

Steve throws his hands up. Every time he thinks he understands literally anything these nerds are talking about— “How is church ‘metal?’”

“Are you kidding??”

The light turns.

Eddie drums the steering wheel, tapping the bass line on the gas pedal, the van lurching into motion like a jittery horse. Steve grabs the handle overhead.

The song moves into a bridge, start of a fresh crescendo, and Eddie presses steady on the gas, gaining speed, ten over as the road leaves town and stretches like taffy into undeveloped county highway: trees on all sides, faded and cracked double lines like a yellow brick road, the sun piercing the canopy, adorning Eddie in sunlight freckles — hazy, diffused through the smoke filling the cabin. “Ah, fuck,” Steve realizes. “Is there weed in that?”

Eddie headbangs half-heartedly. “Indeed there is.”

“Shiiiiit.”

“What?” He blinks, waits for a straightaway to look at Steve. “Oh, shit, are you…? Uh. Shit. My bad; here—” He stretches his whole body over Steve’s lap to roll his window down. “Better?”

“Coulda done that myself,” Steve mumbles, but he’s charmed. Does feel better with the crisp breeze on his cheeks; in his lungs. Eddie lowers his own window, the pressure stabilizing in Steve’s ears. “….What were we talking about?”

“Oh, right,” Eddie laughs. “Church is metal. Angels and demons? Hellfire? That’s all The Big Guy’s doing.” He eases the van onto the shoulder at the edge of a field: bright stalks of tall grasses, purple wildflowers, pine trees, the lakefront just beyond.

He cuts the engine and sighs. “A literal saint doesn’t get divinity.”

Steve’s cheeks flush. “Not a saint.”

Eddie turns toward him, lips twisting at the corners as he bites back a warm grin. “I disagree.”

—

thanks for reading 🥰 title is from the song ‘ventura highway’ by america

[mournfulroses]

Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton; "The Saints Come Marching In,"

[torpublishinggroup]

The Ides of March are come

Here is a list of books ranked by stabbyness:

Bury Your Gays: 0/5🔪 2/5 stylish sledgehammer

The Saint of Bright Doors: (bloodied thumbs up) 3/5🔪, I was the one who got stabbed. In the feels. Vajra Chandrasekera answer for your crimes

The Luminaries: 4/5🔪 Heavy on the monster slaying

The Way of Kings: 5/5🔪

Starts strong - nothing like stabbing your enemies with a giant anime sword 

The Boys in the Valley: 6/5🔪 The boys are NOT okay

The Dead Cat Tail Assassins: 10/5 🔪 It's in the name, I should have seen it coming, and yet...

[vivwritescrappythings]

never have i ever

frankie morales x fem!reader

your childhood best friend Ben takes you on a beach trip with him and his friends from the army. you and Frankie seem to get along like a house fire.

a/n: Written for @yxtkiwiyxt Kiwi’s Never Have I Ever challenge (open til March 1). Thank you so much for tagging me in this, it brought me out of my writing slump!

tw: fem reader, afab reader, drinking, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, dubcon, poor excuse for including he speaks Spanish, reader has hair long enough to grab, first Frankie fic so he may be poorly written, not proofread.

word count: 5.5k

MDNI

masterlist

—

The cool breeze carried the briny scent of the ocean, making the fire flicker as you stared into it. The bright light felt like it was burned into your corneas, but you couldn’t look away as it twisted and danced before you. You were already more than a few drinks in, your body warm and languid as you settled into the patio chair. 

You blinked, your gaze swept over the thinning circle of people before you landed on the man next to you. Francisco… or Frankie… or Catfish–you weren’t exactly sure. You tended to settle on Frankie.

Ben had brought you along to a get-together with his army friends and respective plus ones in Saint Pete: they’d rented a house that was just a ten minute walk from the beach. You had an extra pull-out couch with your name on it for just the price of some food and alcohol. It was a no-brainer to tag along.

“Hey, nena, it’s your turn.” 

His brown eyes looked like caramel in the firelight, his body angled toward yours as he spoke. You’d only met him yesterday, but he seemed nice enough. Definitely more of the drinking type, so you were peas in a pod.

“Sorry,” you breathed, wiping the excess hard cider off your bottom lip as you crossed a leg underneath yourself. You’d taken one of the blankets from inside with you, draping it over your shoulders like a cloak. All eyes were on you, reminding you of the hands that were held up, various amounts of fingers remaining. You still had all five. 

Never Have I Ever was a stupid game anyways.

“Um, well...” you tried to think of something that wasn’t pathetically uptight. You took a deep breath, your cheeks warm as you stared at the fire. “Never have I ever… been in a helicopter.”

You already knew the reaction you would get.

“Oh come on,” Ben sighed, his third finger folding over his palm.

“I’m literally a fucking helicopter pilot, s’not fair,” Frankie complained, chugging the rest of his drink as his last finger went down—hand in a loose fist for a moment.

The rules were shaky when it came to what to do when you reached the end of your allotted fingers, everyone had just settled on finishing their drink. Frankie grabbed a new beer from the cooler next to him, twisting the cap off and taking a sip before stretching his hand open again.

It was just the three of you left, the others having gone to bed but leaving their patio chairs and empty drinks like sentinels in their absence.

“Never have I ever banged a football player,” Ben said as soon as Frankie had his new drink open. 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Now that is a low blow,” you said, putting your thumb down. Playing games like that with Ben was never fun–the two of you had known each other since you were kids. You could exchange pointed shots all night at one another if you wanted to. “And I hardly call losing your virginity to a benchwarmer banging a football player.”

The laughs at your expense made you scoff. You took a drink of your cider to hide the flash of embarrassment on your face. “None of us even knew he was talking to you,” Ben said, snorting softly, “we didn’t think the kid had enough fire in him to handle you.”

“Well, I was stupidly waiting for another guy but settled for the first boy who was nice to me,” you mumbled in a sorry attempt to defend yourself, your face warm from more than just the alcohol.

Ben hummed his acknowledgement, eyebrows lifting. “Oh yeah, this super secret high school crush that you refuse to tell us about.”

You could feel Frankie cast a knowing look in your direction, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Yeah because even though I’m over it you would make a big deal out of it because you know the guy,” you said, finishing your drink. You got up to get one from the cooler next to Frankie, hoping he would decide to take his turn already and change the subject of discussion.

Ben snorted, crushing his empty cup in a hand as he stood. “Whatever you say,” he acquiesced, stretching. Your gaze found the strip of skin that revealed itself as his shirt rode up, staring for a bit too long before you got a hold of yourself. 

“Well, crazy kids, I’m going to bed.” Ben crushed you in a side hug, ruffling your hair despite your sound of annoyance. “Don’t let Fish keep you up all night, he’s a bad influence,” he said, hand rubbing over the cap of your shoulder as he stuck his tongue out at the other man.

“Psh. Don’t listen to him, nena, I’ll take good care of you,” Frankie protested, his lip twitched into a smirk as he gulped his beer.

“I think I’m plenty capable of handling myself,” you murmured, waving them both off with a hand. “Goodnight, Bennie.”

He wished you both a goodnight before disappearing into the house, you could hear the squeal of the sliding glass door closing behind him.

You lowered yourself into your deck chair, shifting it so you better faced Frankie at an angle. He still had his baseball cap on, strands of his dark hair curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. His cheeks were rosy from drinking, his smile a bit broader now.

“Whaddya say we keep playing?” Frankie suggested, watching you open your bottle. The condensation wet your fingertips, your nail picking at the softening label.

You were still too wired to go to bed. If you turned in you’d just be restless and on your phone until you finally passed out.

“Alright, fine,” you said, tapping your fingertips on the metal armrest of the chair. A smile found its way to your face, your five fingers stretching out. Frankie did the same, you could see the calluses on his fingers and palm.

“Never have I ever… skinny dipped.”

Of course Ben had told the story—your group of friends had decided to go skinny dipping in the nearby lake. But the moon wasn’t even out and no one could see much of anything. “I was in high school and it was dark,” you defended, putting your thumb down. 

Frankie looked like he was the cat that caught the canary, drinking with you even though he didn’t have to. 

“Okay, never have I ever played strip poker.” 

He put a finger down. “Well I know what I’m making everyone play for tomorrow’s entertainment,” he said, taking a long gulp of his beer. “You’ve gotta let loose a little.”

Your face was hot, part of you wishing the ground opened beneath you and swallowed you whole. He loved to tease, his sarcastic tone making your stomach flip every time you heard it.

You gently shoved his chair with your foot, making it scrape over the paving stones. “I am loose enough,” you argued. 

—

A snort pulled from you, morphing into a too-loud laugh. The empty bottles were nearly overflowing the side table you and Frankie were discarding them on. Both of you had finished your drinks of choice and resorted to passing a cheap bottle of wine back and forth, staining your lips purple.

“It was only one time, and you have to understand that I was so damn exhausted,” Frankie explained, leaning toward you as he spoke. His laugh belied his attempt at seriousness, his dimple showing as he snickered.

“You fell asleep during sex!” You let your head fall back against the chair, looking at the stars above you. They swam a bit. “That is kind of hard to do.”

“It’ll happen to you someday, nena, and you’ll think of this conversation.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you snatched the wine bottle from him, bringing it to your lips. The glass was cool against your mouth as you drank a swallow, just enough to warm your belly and keep your buzz. More than a buzz if you were honest with yourself.

“Never have I ever had sex with someone to make someone else jealous,” you countered, a knowing smirk on your face.

Frankie rolled his eyes, scoffing. “I didn’t realize that Ben was telling you all of our secrets.” He pulled his hat off his head for a moment, running his hand through his hair before replacing it. “Gonna kick his ass as soon as he wakes up.”

You wet your lips, trying to cover your giggles. “In his defense, he never thought we would meet,” you muttered, leaning against the armrest of the chair. 

The fire was dwindling in the pit, casting tangerine-colored light across the two of you. Frankie said he’d put more wood on twenty minutes ago, but neither of you cared enough to actually do it. 

“Well, it wasn’t my proudest moment,” he muttered, shaking his head. “This girl I was kind of seeing had been flirting with this other guy the whole fucking time we were out and I just lost it. Got a different girl to very publicly go to the bathroom with me.”

“So not only were you disgusting—you were disgusting in the bathroom of some bar?” 

“Hey, hey, no need to judge me so hard,” he said, putting both hands up like he was pretending to be innocent.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, evaluating him. He had a similar relaxed posture, slumped against his chair in his white shirt and gray sweatpants. It was a miracle that he hadn’t spilled any wine on himself yet.

“I’ve just never been so desperate for someone’s attention,” you said, sitting mightily on your high horse.

That made Frankie guffaw, sitting up suddenly. “Oh yeah? Never have I ever had a crush on my childhood neighbor,” he said, a shit eating grin on his face as he scratched at the patchy beard on his jaw.

You could feel yourself stiffen, giving yourself away without meaning to. “I… I do not have a crush on Ben,” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Oh sure you don’t, nena,” he said, making you want to reach out and smack him. “Oh Bennie this and oh Bennie that, the only way it would be more obvious is if you had big fucking hearts in your eyes… well obvious to everyone except him.”

Apparently your embarrassment was loud and clear anyways, your attempts to be nonchalant failing miserably.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Frankie said, trying to placate you.

You scoffed, standing up as you drank a bit too much wine from the bottle, the excess dripping down the corner of your mouth. “Don’t be embarrassed? I just found out that everyone has been watching me be a huge fucking idiot this whole time!”

He stood with you, hands smoothing over your shoulders as he crowded into your space. “I’ve got an idea if you’re game,” he said, catching your attention again.

“What?”

“Well… we could kill two birds with one stone, ya know?” It must have been clear that you didn’t know what he meant. “We can make Ben jealous… and cross something off your ‘Never Have I Ever’ bucket list.”

Your brow furrowed as you considered what he was saying. His hands rubbed down your arms, gently pulling the wine bottle from your fingers. He took a swig before setting it with the empty bottles, making them clink against one another.

Then it all clicked.

“You want to have sex?” 

Frankie laughed, his big hands finding the flare of your hips. “I thought Ben said you were smart,” he teased, his forehead bumping against yours as he shuffled in closer.

You clicked your teeth at him. “I’m drunk… so what’s in it for you then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, a smile lifting his lip. “I get to have sex, that’s more than enough reason for me to want to do it.”

You let out something between a laugh and a sigh, shaking hour head as you lightly smacked his chest. “Men are ridiculous,” you mumbled, grinning softly as you looked up at him.

Frankie was smiling, showing off his straight white teeth in the light of the dying fire and blue glow coming from the in-ground pool. He moved closer, his aquiline nose nudging against yours. You were close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your face, smell the wine he just drank.

“Just tonight?” you asked, one eyebrow arched.

He nodded obligingly, grin growing impossibly wider. “I don’t catch feelings.”

You were drunk enough to think it was a brilliant plan—it would be impossible for Ben not to jealous if he heard you and Frankie next door. The idea was foolproof. “Okay, then let’s do it.”

—

Frankie’s room was just next to Ben’s, the two of you giggling with bottles of wine in hand as you followed after him. He’d grabbed an additional bottle from the kitchen when you snuck back inside to have on standby, the remaining quarter of the first bottle still sloshing around in yours.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him as you opened his bedroom door. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you inside, slamming the door shut behind you both. “Frankie!” you scolded between kisses, mortified that you were being loud.

“Waking him up is the point, nena,” he said, half carrying you to the bed. You rolled your eyes, holding the bottle for him to drink from before he confiscated both and set them on the nightstand. “C’mon, loosen up for me.”

He leaned down to capture your lips, messily licking into your mouth. You could taste the wine on his tongue, making you hum as you returned the gesture. 

“Get this stupid thing off,” you muttered against his lips, knocking his hat off and foraging your fingers in his thick curls. You gently tugged at his roots, making him groan as he smashed you into the mattress with his weight.

“Thought you liked the hat,” he said with a chuckle deep in his chest, pushing the offending accessory the rest of the way off the bed.

You desperately pulled him back to you, hitching one leg around his hip as his arm flattened near your head for support. “Fancy restaurant rules. Definitely not allowed in the bedroom,” you said with a smirk. He huffed his disagreement against your jaw, shaking his head as his blunt teeth scraped over the thin skin. 

It was messy. Tongues meeting and teeth clashing and nails scratching over fabric and skin alike. Playfully suggestive hums and giggles filled the quiet of the room. You were sure you were disrupting the rest of the house, Frankie’s bedroom right in the center of it.

The alcohol made everything so easy, whisking away your shirt and sweatpants before you even realized. You took Frankie’s shirt along with them, tossing it somewhere in his room. 

He nudged your chin up with his nose, his tongue flattening over your windpipe. Your breath tripped, eyes squeezing shut. Admittedly, it had been a while for you. Everything he was doing was making your head spin. 

The kiss turned sloppy with tongue as he traced his thumb beneath the waistband of your panties. Your manicured nails traveled over the expanse of his bare chest, following the soft ridges of the lean muscle and stray scars to the line of dark hairs beneath his navel. It was your guiding beacon, your fingers following it to the elastic waist of his sweatpants.

“Off,” you asked softly, snapping the elastic against the thin layer of pudge on his belly. “Please.”

He obliged quickly, pulling you up with him as he got off the bed to ungracefully shove them down his legs and kicked them somewhere into the room. Tight black boxer briefs hugged his quads, stretching as he knelt onto the mattress.

“C’mere, nena,” he practically growled, grabbing your thighs as he yanked you up onto his lap. You yelped, giggling as your legs bent at the knee and toes anchored against the duvet. His fingers sunk into your ass, dimpling the soft flesh as he held you close.

One hand skated up your spine, unlatching your bra easily. You cackled, leaning back as he pulled the straps down your arms and tossed it aside. “Didn’t know you were such a slut, Frankie,” you murmured, smirking as he palmed at your freed tits. Your nipples were pinched between his forefinger and thumb, making you arch toward him. “Unhooking a girl’s bra with one hand?” 

He muffled your words with more kisses, stamping his lips over yours. “That takes some practice–should I be impressed or disgusted?”

“You never fucking shut up, do you?” Frankie asked good-naturedly, nipping at your lower lip as one hand smoothed against the small of your back. He pulled you close, squeezing your ass as he leaned forward to devour you further. You tittered, your forearm pressed against the nape of his neck as the scoop of your palm found the patchy beard at his jaw. Your hips rolled into his, nose pressing against his cheek as you smacked wet kisses on him.

“I’m not well-known for being quiet.”

The world spun around you before your back hit the mattress, the memory foam absorbing most of the impact. His rough fingers pulled your panties off in a smooth motion, his palms finding the insides of your thighs and pressing them apart. 

“I’m counting on that,” he murmured as he kissed his way to the echo of your heartbeat, sucking small welts into the flesh of your inner thighs. 

You were stunned into breathlessness, propped on one elbow as you watched him map closer and closer to the ache between your legs. He breathed in deep as he hovered just above your cunt–something that would have mortified you if you were any less drunk, but it only made you moan.

The tip of his nose brushed your clit, making your pelvis jump toward his face. “You have a gorgeous pussy,” he said dreamily, the drunken slur finally making itself apparent in his voice. He parted your slit with his strong tongue, making your eyes roll back in your skull before he fully dove in. 

Your fingers clutched desperately at his hair, your breaths choking in your throat as your brows knit together. He made out with your cunt, a soft rumble in his chest making his mouth vibrate against you. 

Infatuation and desire consumed you, leaving you dizzy. His cheeks were flushed pink and his hair ruffled as his hands splayed wide across your thighs. You eagerly lifted your hips to his mouth as much as you could, whining as he lapped up the entirety of your sex, suckling at your clit each time before repeating the motion.

You found yourself thanking the attention to detail he was taught in the military: he picked up on every time your breath hitched or your voice became a whine and he made it happen again. And again. And again. To the point that you could feel just how soaked you were, not even the pace of Frankie’s tongue fast enough to keep your slick arousal from dripping to the duvet. 

You’d never been so turned on in your life.

“Fuck,” you keened, the word tight in your chest as the oxygen left the room. You gripped his hair tighter, hips twitching. The tip of his finger pressed at your entrance, making your cunt flutter around the temptation of being full. His groan was muffled, met by your own grateful whimpers.

His jaw went slack, framing the entirety of your cunt as he pressed all of his weight into eating you out. The swirl of his tongue churning his saliva with each motion made you want to die. 

Brown eyes met your half-lidded gaze from between your thighs. You were shocked to see just how pleased he looked, feasting upon you with the desperation of a starving man. Frankie had seemed like a lot of things, but a munch was not high on your list. Thank god you were wrong.

���You’re going to make me come so fast,” you gasped, almost embarrassed by how quickly you felt like your whole body was buzzing. Almost pathetically fast.

Steady presses of his tongue devolved into wet kisses sucked between your lips. You pressed the curls of his hair back from his forehead, a few beads of sweat dripping from his hairline. Soft lips wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked, bringing you to rapture as the tip of his tongue batted the sensitive bud.

It took one wet swirl around your clit to shatter you, your orgasm ripping through you. A wail escaped you before you clapped a hand over your mouth–even if you wanted Ben to know, you didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house. 

Frankie grabbed the fat of your ass with both hands, pulling your cunt to his mouth as he licked you into oversensitivity. He didn’t stop until you were twitching with discomfort, pushing his forehead away.

He sat back, his facial hair shining wetly in the moonlight before he wiped it off on the back of his hand. 

You were a panting mess, hardly able to think as he moved toward you. He massaged your buzzing skin with his big, warm hands, coaxing your soul back into your body. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmured quietly, his gaze steady as he watched you tremble. 

The compliment split you open, endless hunger spilling out as you reached for him. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied without having him inside you.

You could see the outline of his hard cock in his underwear, your free hand rubbing over it as he settled between your bent legs. The feeling of his weight above you helped your lungs find their rhythm as you pressed your thumb to the wet spot at his tip.

“So I’m that good, huh?” he teased, his voice unsteady as he started to grind himself against your hand. 

Your laugh was breathless, your face on fire as you looked up at him. “I think all the booze helped, made me sensitive,” you said, your tone raspy and soft as your hand slipped into his boxer briefs. 

The way his expression crumpled as your fingers curled around his shaft was delightful. A self-satisfied grin bloomed on your face as you started to stroke him, watching him through your lashes. His hips bunched into your hand, his forehead dropping to yours as he let out a groan. 

“Shit,” he panted, one hand fisting in the white duvet. You relished in the way he already sounded wrecked. “I’ve gotta fuck you before you make me come in my boxers like some teenager.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from him before clumsily removing his underwear. The sight of his cock made your throat go dry, tip red and leaking. He looked painfully hard, curved up toward his stomach and a little to the left from a trimmed patch of dark, curly hair. 

“Hands and knees, nena,” Frankie murmured, playfully swatting the outside of your thigh. “Wanna see that fat ass of yours–been staring at it ever since you got here.”

Your face was hot as you rolled over, spine arching like a cat’s as you settled on your forearms and knees. He grabbed you by the hips, yanking you where he wanted you: facing the arched mirror on the dresser. The sight of yourself made your arch deepen, your chest pressed to the bed as you presented yourself to him like a gift.

“Jesus,” he groaned, softly smacking your ass before he grabbed a handful of the soft flesh, shaking it. There was something close to reverence in his expression as you watched him spread your cheeks, dark eyes focused on your pussy. His thumb gently ghosted over your slit in a way that made you whine.

“Frankie, stop teasing,” you said impatiently, glaring at him in the mirror.

“Fine, fine, calm down,” he breathed, his knees finding their place between yours as his cock notched in the cleft of your ass. He rocked there for a moment before pulling back enough to ease into you with careful rolls of his hips. One hand planted between your scapulae, the other clutching your hip as you both exhaled your satisfaction with every inch of delicious friction.

It took you both a few moments to adjust, your went cunt finally relaxing enough to let Frankie fit entirely inside of you. He shushed you softly as you whined, barely fucking his cock into you as he rubbed circles over your vertebrae.

You rocked back against his thrusts, falling into a steady rhythm as the sound of your sweat-dampened skin smacking together filled the room. His hand moved from your back to the nape of your neck, grabbing a handful of your hair and tilting your head to make you look at him through the reflection of the mirror. The grip at your scalp was almost comforting as you melted into the sensation.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmured low in his throat, his gaze taking in every detail of your reflection. Your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, your lidded eyes. Your hair was twisted around his fist, ass jiggling with every connection of your hips. 

It was hard to keep your eyes open, moaning wantonly as you kept your gaze on Frankie. Your expression was pornographic–enamored and thoroughly pleased as he stretched you open on his cock.

He curled his body over yours, meeting you at his waist and shoulders as his lips found the back of your neck and shoulders. “Ben must be a damn idiot to not see how pretty you are,” he murmured, sucking marks into your neck. You were too lost in the pleasure of the head of his cock carving deep into you to respond. 

“Squeezing me so tight, nena,” he grunted into your ear, his hot breath making shivers prickle up your spine. His hold on your hair kept you in place. “This is the sweet little pussy of my dreams, milking me so good.”

Frankie kept running his mouth, spewing filth and praise that made you melt into a puddle beneath him. You were possessed with pleasure, almost drooling as you whimpered and moaned.

His hand left your hip, weight pressing you even deeper into the mattress as his arm wrapped around you. You sobbed as his fingers skated over your belly, pressing against your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles against it.

“Frankie, right there,” you gasped, fingers bunching up the duvet as you tried to breathe through the sensitivity, still tingling from your last orgasm. 

“Greedy girl…” he chastised, chuckling into your ear as he kept working your clit without mercy. 

Your cunt was fluttering around his cock, your sounds becoming louder and more wanton. He exhaled through his teeth with each thrust, his breaths sharp and punctuated in your ear. “Frankie,” you moaned–his name being one of the few words you could even think of. 

“That’s it, let ‘im know who’s giving it to you so good.”

Oh yeah. 

You were still trying to make Ben jealous. The thought had slipped your mind entirely as you felt Frankie’s cock press over every slippery ridge inside your cunt, setting your body alight. 

Who knew if Ben was even listening, if he was even awake.

You repeated Frankie’s name like a prayer on your lips, further and further gone the closer you got to your orgasm. He yanked your hair gently, making your eyes flutter open again to look up at him through the reflection. 

His lips were moving, cursing in Spanish as his jaw clenched so hard you could see it flex beneath his beard. You could tell he was close, too, starting to lose his steady rhythm as he sped up. Bruising kisses were pressed to your neck and shoulder, his cock splitting you open with frantic thrusts.

Then he started to beg, almost making you black out. “Come for me, nena. Come all over my cock. I wanna feel you come all over me, squeezing me so damn tight.”

His thick fingers were still rubbing your clit, coaxing you further and further to the edge. Spanglish filled your ears as he grunted and groaned, clearly holding back until you finished first. 

“Frankie! Oh my god!”

Euphoria left you strung out, ripping at the seams of your sanity as your pussy spasmed hard around his cock. Frankie turned your head by tugging on your hair, contorting you so he could smash his lips to yours as his hips started to stutter. You felt him pulse inside you, groans muffled between your mouths as his come spilled inside your cunt like lava.

You wilted together, exhaustion and drunkenness catching up to you as you collapsed to the bed in a heap of limbs and sweat and come. It would be smart to get up, to clean yourself up and go sleep on the couch. But you were already so comfortable, Frankie nestled close to your back as he started to softened inside you. 

“M’I sleeping here?” you asked, already yawning as you and Frankie lay on your sides. He reached for the throw on the end of the bed, yanking the fuzzy blanket up and over the two of you.

He kissed your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck.

“Of course, nena, you gotta come out of my room in the morning for this to work,” he muttered against your skin, yawning in response to you.

This. The plan. You could hardly consider it as sleep pulled you under.

–

The morning light woke you up, making you groan as you rolled over to bury your face in Frankie’s neck. He stirred as you did, a hand running over your hip to placate you as he pulled you closer. “Morning, nena,” he murmured, voice raspy from sleep.

You hid from the sun in his clavicle, the warmth of his skin seeping into you. “What does nena even mean?” you asked after a few moments, voice sounding muffled.

Frankie’s hand ran up and down your side, clipped nails making goosebumps lift on your arms. “Means baby.”

It was simple enough. Just a normal nickname.

But you felt your cheeks warm, a thrill running through you anyway. “Yeah? You’ve been calling me baby this whole time?” There was a kernel of bashfulness in your voice.

He let out a huff of air, still too tired to laugh fully. “Yeah, I have.”

Silence lapsed between you two, your breaths even and slow as neither of you tried to move away. It was too comfortable for you to want to get up.

“You gonna go find Ben today?” Frankie asked, a twinge of something in his voice making you lift your head up. 

You squinted in the sunlight, rubbing one eye with the heel of your hand as you fixed Frankie with your gaze. “Wasn’t planning on it,” you murmured, lips pursing to one side as you chewed the inside of your cheek. “Unless you wanted me to, of course.”

His tired smile soothed you, the hand running up and down your side inching closer and closer to your breast as he looked at you. “Nah, you should stay,” he said, thumb stroking over your nipple. He swirled it to hardness, heat already starting to pool in your lower belly despite your exhaustion.

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

–

Ben and Will drank coffee in the kitchen in the morning, nursing their hangovers just like everyone else. Most of the group was awake and in various levels of pain, Santi cooking breakfast and Tom still wearing sunglasses. Their girlfriends were laying on the couches in the living room, curtains drawn as they sipped cups of water.

A giggle could be heard from Frankie’s room, the creak of a bedframe. No one understood how you two still had energy after going to bed at three in the morning. But, lucky for them, Frankie was resilient.

“Did they keep you up last night?” Will asked his brother, a hint of a smile on his face.

Ben nodded, blue eyes focused on his coffee. “Oh yeah, and you owe me twenty bucks.”

Will rolled his eyes–betting that Frankie would wait until the end of the trip to hook up with you had been the stupidest thing he’d done in a while.

[alfredosauce50]

Dear, Sasha

[Russia x reader]

Wordcount: 11, 834

Content warning: Heavily explicit NSFW content. R18+ only.

Synopsis: Being born into Russian high society is just as much of a blessing as it is a curse. You live a life of comfort and luxury, but at the expense of your own happiness. Just when you think you’ve had enough, a man catches your eye, and looking at him is like looking into a mirror. You eventually meet him at a ball, and upon dancing with him, an intense, unspoken passion begins.

As you get closer to him, you start falling for his intelligence and sensitivity. But he keeps retreating within himself and running away, breaking your heart in the process. You eventually track him down on a train leaving Moscow, and in a fit of passion, you slap him across the face. Shocked by the magnitude of your feelings, he chases you with no intention of letting the fire die out.

Imperial Russia, 1875. A frozen empire on the brink of collapse. While the rest of Europe liberated itself from decadence and poverty, the state remained an antique of the past. There was still a stark division between high society and peasants. You either worked the land or went to dizzying ballroom parties until you went mad from the decadence of it all.

That was your life.

Only you always thought you were born on the wrong side of history. Not that you ever said it out loud, because how could you? Having come from a long line of nobility, everything was handed to you with a silver spoon. Money, lavish estates, a noble name, all inherited from the past generations of your family.

“Gilbert? Are you ready?” You marched down the hall, heels clacking against the floor. The dress you wore was white, off-shoulder, and poured elegantly down to your feet. Around your neck was a delicate string of pearls, and hanging from your ears was a pair of dainty earrings. Everything you wore was fit for a bride, which was fitting for your circumstances.

“Almost!”

You arrived at the doorway of your cousin’s bedroom, and the man himself was standing in front of a mirror, checking his appearance. He was in a white tuxedo, making for quite the dashing bachelor. For someone who had no absolutely no interest in being tied down, he always tried so hard for high society.

“Why is it that every time we go to parties, you’re always the last one out the door?” You asked.

“I’m not good with time, you know that.” He turned to you, arms stiffly by his sides. “So, how do I look?”

“Irresistible.”

“Good. You don’t look too bad yourself,” He walked over, getting you to let out a laugh. “Now let’s get going.”

“You know, I’m starting to get tired of these parties,” You admitted as you both descended the staircase. Waiting just outside the front door was the family’s horse and carriage. “Seems like an awful lot of effort to meet people you’ll never even talk to again.”

“No, it’s for when you accidentally bump into them on your train ride to and from Moscow,” He grinned.

“You got that right.” You mused.

It was lonely staying by yourself in Saint Petersburg. Every year when Winter came rolling around, turning the country into a snowy wasteland, it was practically unbearable. Fortunately, you had a cousin to share your pain with, and he just so happened to despise the country’s state of affairs as much as you.

“I’m really glad for you, Gilbert. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” You commented in the carriage.

“Of course you are,” He hummed, though his mirth only lasted so long when he caught the expression you had. It was a little sad, but perhaps you’d been that way for quite some time. “I know that look.”

You lifted your gaze to him quietly.

“What’s wrong?” He leaned in from across you.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, turning away.

“It’s never nothing.” He plopped down next to you.

“Okay, fine. I just don’t know if this kind of life is right for me. All the socializing, the dancing, I just can’t take it anymore. I’m putting on some kind of persona so I’m not rejected from everything I’ve ever known.”

Gilbert softened his gaze as he listened to you speak. And you were right about everything. He wasn’t one to follow rules, or rather, he had quite the disdain for them. He was childish, eccentric, and had no qualms against staying that way forever. But high society was just as much of a curse as it was a blessing.

“Yeah.” He murmured, gaze falling.

If you didn’t fit in, you were as good as dead.

“Maybe I should’ve been a farmer.” You mused.

“Trust me. You do not want to be a farmer.”

“So I just marry rich and the end?”

“That’s how the world works, unfortunately.”

”That’s how Russia works.” You corrected.

“Yeah, but it worked out pretty well for the two of us, didn’t it? Look on the bright side.” The albino kicked back next to you. If you didn’t already know him, you’d say he was everything wrong with this country.

“You say that now, but when it’s your turn to get married, you won’t be this relaxed.” You remarked.

“I’m twenty-two. I still have time,” He closed his eyes. Not a moment passed before he opened one to look at you teasingly. “You’re running out of it, though. You’re telling me you’re a twenty year-old woman and still unmarried? There must be something wro-”

You glared at him and he shut up pretty quick.

“I just want to meet the right person, okay? Is that really too much to ask for?” You frowned again.

“Ah, you’re so old-fashioned, (F/N).” Gilbert almost swooned. “But that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Ever since your debut two years ago, the subject had been looming over you as the bane of your existence. Finding the one, though it was more of a social obligation than something you really wanted. Romantic love was an illusion of the old order. People married for duty, and you feared that one day, you would have to too. All of these social events and soirées were for that reason, and the more you lingered on that, the less enchanting they seemed.

The grandest estates could not tempt you, nor the glistening chandeliers that hung overhead. Not the enticing display of exotic fruits on the refreshments table, nor the enchanting string instruments. When you got to the dance floor, you curtsied for your partner, who was one of many that you would cycle through that night. Their faces were a blur, their conversations a bore, each a copy of a copy.

None of this was real.

All of this was an illusion, a distraction for the dawn of an empire. You’d been stuck in this haze for many years, only now just realizing the thickness of it, like this life was everything you would ever know. All of these thoughts raced through your head until your heart began pounding, like you were on the verge of collapsing. The room spun faster and faster as you lost yourself, but that was when you saw him.

A uniformed cavalry officer in all white.

You were never one to stare, let alone at a man, but his appearance was so unique, it was distracting. What more was that he was so tall and broad, it was hard not to look at him. But you did more than just that. As he stood near the edge of the ballroom, you gave him a few curious glances, perhaps too many to be considered inconspicuous. His skin was whiter than snow, soft and smooth like powder. He had a long and rather large nose, but it suited him. As for his hair, it was platinum blonde, and slightly wavy.

It framed a matured and full face that scanned the room for other people-watchers. He seemed a lot more observant than most, and perhaps that served a role in his isolation. But that made the two of you.

As if he felt your stare on him, he glanced at you.

Then, he smiled.

You froze, hypnotized by his eyes. In your lifetime here in Russia, you’ve never seen anything like them. His eyes were a soft lavender, and so vivid against his white cap. They were devastatingly beautiful and so rare, you felt lonely just by gazing into them. Or was it because it felt like you were looking into a mirror?

A week later, you attended an opera with Gilbert.

The man was escaping your mind by then, but fate decided otherwise. As you sat amongst hundreds of faces, yours was being watched by someone else. You scanned the audience with your opera glasses as the woman on stage performed her piece, reaching a high crescendo. That was when you spotted him.

The officer from the ball.

And he was already staring at you.

Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, enchanted by how bold he was being. He wasn’t nervous about being discovered at all, even removing his opera glasses to show his striking lavender eyes, as if to show it was him. It was riveting to be noticed, and even more so when he made it obvious. He wanted you to know he was watching you, just as you had been watching him. What were his intentions?

Or was it all a mere coincidence?

You didn’t know what to think, but one thing was for sure. He had piqued your attention, and you made it a point to find out who he was. The next time you saw him again was at another ball, and once the opportunity came, you walked up to your cousin to do exactly that. He was drinking vodka out of a glass, and he didn’t seem like he’d stop anytime soon.

“Who’s that?” You stared back at the man.

“Ivan Braginsky,” Gilbert answered.

Finally, a name to match the face.

Funnily enough, your cousin didn’t need to look to confirm who you were staring at. Had the man done something to warrant such a reputation, or was it his captivating looks that called for so much attention?

“Another rich cavalry officer, I guess. Apparently, he doesn’t care for women -- if you know what I mean.”

There it was.

“Where did you hear that from?” You shot him a look, strangely disheartened by the thought.

“Word of mouth, what else?”

“And you listen to that nonsense?”

“It’s not just me. See how everybody else is strategically avoiding him aside from a polite nod?”

You turned to the officer, watching him for a short period before noticing he was indeed the solitary type. He never waltzed with any women, and nobody seemed to be striking up much conversation with him aside from other officers. You didn’t know what to feel, stark indifference, or embarrassment that the man you had been staring at didn’t swing that way.

“Stop it, Gilbert. You sound just like them.”

But as opposed as you were to the idea, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. In a world like this one, outside opinion became your reality. People loved to talk, so if you happened to be the subject, you better hope it was something good. When you thought of it that way, your spunk had all but reduced to nothing.

It was easier to just do what everybody else was doing. To tread lightly against the water without causing any ripples. It was the reason why you were so miserable, and yet, you were paralyzed.

You resorted to just watching him on the mezzanine, surrounded by his friends. By then, your fixation on him was no longer out of mere curiosity. He was attractive, and judging from how he looked back at you, that attraction was mutual. The reciprocation left much to be desired, like an invitation to start something. It drew you in like all things forbidden, though the only object was the peace of your old life.

And rather than speaking, you chose to die.

But he chose the latter.

“Demoralizing, isn’t it?”

A deep voice startled you, having come from behind. When you turned to it, you came face to face with Ivan. He was even more striking up close, and you weren’t prepared for what felt like worlds colliding.

“Excuse me?” Your brows came together.

“This is all theatre,” Ivan replied, lowering his head to you. “Everything you do and say is watched.”

“Is that so?” Interest laced your tone, fascinated by the eccentric talking point. This was your first time meeting him, and yet, he didn’t bother with niceties.“Do you think we’re being watched right now?”

“Of course.” He held out a gloved hand, palm facing up. He was forward, but only at your permission. Nothing he did was intrusive, as if he observed you for all your limits and lingered on them until you gave him your consent to go further. For that, the way he carried himself was so mysterious, but also deeply alluring. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

You slid your hand into his, diving into the fire that was his world — and much to your wonder, yours.

Ivan led you to the dance floor, and all the heads in the room turned, one by one. Some peered around to get a better look, even. It was the most unexpected development yet, the man they’d written off to be a social outcast, next to a young debutante with an established name. You two looked good together too, but neither of those reasons would account for the amount of attention you and Ivan would receive.

It started off innocent like any other couple on the floor. A graceful waltz straight out of a fairytale.

Your palms came together, and with his hand on your waist, he guided you effortlessly amongst the other guests. You danced with him across the room, but you felt so light, it was like flying. Everything that had ever weighed you down was lifted, unburdened by everything that had been. Your dress flared out as he spun you in circles, but it wasn’t dizzying in the least.

In fact, your head had never been clearer.

For the world had all been drowned out.

The only thing you could see was him, and him, you. Even for just that moment, you were the center of each other’s universe. You were his sun, and he was yours. You two revolved around each other, basking in each other’s warmth that nourished a new life. And as the night went on, he never switched you with any other women. He didn’t have any intention to dance with anybody else, but neither did you. Slowly, but surely, it became undeniable what was developing between you two. He lifted you up and spun you in the air. Then, you took the risk to look down at him.

You and Ivan locked in a deep stare.

That was when you knew.

There was a budding passion between you and Ivan. With your mouth agape, you held onto his face to stabilize yourself. Breaths poured from your lips, and he welcomed them on instinct by opening his own. All this time, it wasn’t just the devastating beauty of his eyes that touched you, nor the coherence behind them. It was that they were looking at you.

The music stopped, and everything was sealed with a daring act. When he put you down, he did it so that your nose would slide against his. It was the first time that you made skin-to-skin contact with him, and it was so electric, you closed your eyes to savor it.

This had all been just a dance.

And yet, it felt like you two had just made love.

Needless to say, the blatant disregard for everyone else in the room was the most selfish, yet erotic experience of your life. When he parted ways with you, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. His lips lingered on you, and he lifted his gaze to you once more, almost as if to repeat everything that had already been said.

Then, he bowed, leaving you for the night.

Not that you even got any sleep after a high like that.

But your hopes were crushed as quickly as they were raised. You didn’t see him for a while after that, and he didn’t write to you either. A part of you hoped that he would find your address because he wanted to, but he never did. It left you incredibly disappointed, even confused after such a beautiful night together. Had everything you felt just been a fling, or worse, entirely made up in your mind? In your melancholy, you went to the city to get yourself some flowers.

But when you got inside the shop, you laid eyes on the reason for your woes. You could recognize that silver-blonde hair from anywhere, and subsequently, the person it belonged to. Even with his back turned to you in a crouch, you instantly knew who it was.

“Ivan.” You let out.

“(F/N),” The man turned to you, eyes widened.

His guard dropped at the sudden encounter. You just caught him in his private life, and while that wasn’t a problem on its own, he imagined his second time speaking to you would be when he was a little more prepared. But he couldn’t deny how delighted he was, even if he tried to mask it to an acceptable level. He stood up and dusted his pants, smile growing.

“It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. What are you doing?”

“Just running some errands.” Ivan replied, picking up a bucket of sunflowers from the ground.

“For yourself?” You asked with a curious tone.

“Yes, sunflowers are my favorite,” He laughed like he didn’t want to admit it, but he did anyway. He carried them to the cashier, but he promptly returned to get another one. “I like putting them in my windows.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” You smiled some. It was cute, even, but you refrained from saying it out loud. He was shy enough about it as is, so you thought of the next best thing. “I was buying some flowers for myself too.”

“Really?” He lit up.

“Yeah. Just some roses.” You hummed.

“Let me get them for you.” He offered, put off by the thought that you were doing the same thing as him.

“That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t—”

“I insist.” Ivan lowered his eyes to you.

In his mind, people buying flowers for themselves meant they could’ve had better days. Maybe it was just an egotistical way of thinking, but he assumed it was the same way for you. If he could do the least of getting you a rose, he would sleep better at night.

That sincerity seeped through him and made it impossible for you to refuse. So you relented.

“Thank you, Ivan. This is really, really sweet of you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After he paid for them, he handed you a generous bouquet of red roses wrapped in delicate, colored paper. The gesture was so kind, it almost made up for the anguish you had felt recently. While you admired the floral arrangement, your mind returned to that night — you softened your gaze and peered up at him shyly. “You know, I’ve always wanted to say that I had a really good time with you that night.”

Ivan leaned back slightly, taken aback by your words. It was natural for you to say, but he was so used to being alone, the thought of being considered was so riveting that he had to ground himself after the fact.

“You’re a great dancer.” You complimented.

“So are you.”

“I was hoping that you’d write me too.” You lowered your gaze, missing the surprise that crossed his face.

“You were?” He blinked.

“Would that be inappropriate?” You glanced up at him quickly, feeling a frown start coming in.

“No, but that’s what I thought myself. I thought that it would make you uncomfortable.” His eyes widened as he spoke candidly. It was incredible how at ease he was around you, but your unapologetic honesty had him scrambling to meet you in the middle.

“Not at all. I was actually bothered that you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” He apologized. “I’ll write to you tonight, so it should come in a few days. Don’t worry.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting,” You beamed, turning to leave the shop. Excitement washed over you like all was right in the world again. But before you left, you had to ride out the high with one last comment. And it caught him even more off guard than the entire encounter itself. “You seem more like yourself today.”

“What do you mean?” He paused.

“Because you were unprepared.” You answered.

Ivan wrote to you right when he got home, inviting you to tea the following week. The café he waited in could pass for the lobby of a luxury hotel, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. Ceilings high enough for an eagle to soar in, and smooth marble pillars to hold them up. Artisan furniture, waiters in tuxedos, it was a favorite place to rendezvous in for all high society. He had a newspaper opened in front of him just as you arrived. Somehow, he always seemed surprised to see you, even if this meeting had been organized.

“How long will you be in Moscow for?” You gave your coffee a quick stir. He opted for tea instead, which he paired with a slice of honey cake. Turns out, he had quite the sweet tooth as it was too much for you.

“Three months. Then I’ll be stationed in Tashkent,” He answered. The speed of your stirring waned to a stop, and he noticed that your stare on him turned thoughtful. You seemed as though you were about to say something, but you refrained. “What about you? Are you going back to Saint Petersburg in Spring?”

“Yes, but I can stay longer if I wanted,” You brought your cup up to your lips. In truth, you wanted to ask how long he’d be in Kazakhstan for, but you worried that your interest in him would’ve seemed too much. Not that it wasn’t an open secret to you both at this point. “I don’t have anybody waiting for me there.”

That day, you two got to know each other beyond the ballroom, talking about your lives, families, and goals. It was like playing catch up after your night together, and it was weirdly grounding. He wasn’t a mysterious Prince Charming who swept you off your feet anymore, but something even better. He was real, every last bit of his sensitive character and wit.

“Do you not want to be married?” He asked.

“Not to the wrong person. It’s the one thing I have to do right, so I don’t want it to be the regret of my life.”

“I understand. Finding the right person is easier said than done — people can like you, but it’s not love.”

“I’m listening,” You hummed.

“That’s what makes it so valuable,” Ivan continued. Something glinted in his eyes like he had just come alive, as if he’d been waiting to say this for a while. “Because when you have it, you’ll have everything.”

You rested your face on the palm of your hand, staring at him across the table with intrigue.

“That person will see you for everything that you are and accept you for things you can’t accept yourself. Then, you become whole because of it,” He briefly broke his eye contact as he picked up his tea, but remade it as he said this. “Letting them love you is how you acknowledge that and forgive yourself.”

“That was really good, Ivan.” You muttered, frowning. He was so eloquent, his words untangled some part of yourself you didn’t know was tangled. Now that you thought about it, he’d always had this effect on you. The things he’d say, the way he received you. The world just made sense when you were with him.

He was so intelligent and sensitive, it drew you in like a moth to a flame. But it also put everything into perspective. He was a person everyone decided to ostracize, and you were so close to being just like the rest. You almost didn’t deserve him because of it, but you could forgive yourself if you did one simple thing.

Not letting him slip away.

“You think so?”

“Yes, I understood that perfectly. I couldn’t have said it better myself,” You nodded, watching him light up at being so well-received. It was too bad what you’d add to this conversation wasn’t half as deep, but you liked a good laugh. “But hey, can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

“It’s about you, though.”

“How can you tell me a secret about me?”

“Well, it involves you, but it’s not necessarily true,” Your smile at him was more coy than he would’ve liked, so what was it about him that was so amusing? “It’s what everyone has been saying about you.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

“Everybody thinks you’re gay.”

His eyes widened until the whites of them were practically glaring, but he didn’t appear disgusted in the least. He couldn’t recall doing anything that could give anybody that impression, unless he did.

“Why?” He shook his head, positively dumbfounded.

“Maybe it was because you seemed too reserved.”

“Well, you didn’t believe that, did you?”

“Of course not!”

“I’m glad, but what am I supposed to do with that information? I can’t exactly prove to them what I am.” Ivan smiled weirdly, and he kept his composure rather calm. Most people would’ve recoiled or panicked at the thought of being regarded as such.

But it was so in-character for him to not mind.

“Well, of course you can,” You laughed, your smile softening at this. Turns out, your point wasn’t so much to tease him as it was to flirt with him, and he walked right into it. “Just spend more time with me.”

His cheeks turned rosy as his heart sped up for a brief moment. And against all odds, he didn’t feel the urge to shy away from you. It spoke volumes for who he was, solitary and avoidant, even if the only thing he ever wanted was someone to see him. It was a paradoxical way to live, though life was full of them.

But something about you made him unafraid to chase you, even if it was at a calm, walking pace.

A few days later, you found yourself strolling beside him next to a frozen lake. Ivan had his arms folded behind his back while he indulged you in another pleasant conversation. He had so much to say, but he made every moment worth your while. It seemed as though he just needed someone to listen to him.

And you were more than happy to be that someone.

“My mother used to call me Sasha,” He told you.

“Oh?” It was a beautiful name, but the only thing that crossed your mind was how well it suited him.

“Defender of mankind,” He gave you his gloved hand to take as you came across uneven terrain. But even after it passed, you never let go, and he didn’t mind it one bit. “She would remind me of that every time I got bullied as a child. She said they only did nasty things to me because they were jealous of me.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t want to say.” He chuckled sheepishly.

“Children can be cruel sometimes.” You nodded.

“I don’t think children are that aware of themselves, but I suppose it was because I was different.”

“Why would you say that?”

“There must be a reason why they did what they did.”

“People don’t need a reason to be the way they are. They just don’t know how to be anything else,” You disagreed, feeling his stare on you as you gazed to the side. “Which is a shame because I never would’ve spoken to you if you hadn’t spoken to me first.”

“Oh?”

“I never would’ve met you if you didn’t take the risk,” You smiled back at him. “So don’t ever change, Ivan.”

All of this came so naturally to you, but your words meant more to him than you would ever know. Nobody had ever said that to him. To never change. His whole life, he thought he had to be someone else, but it was really the world that wasn’t right for him. You liked him for who he was, so for the first time in a while, he could breathe. And he didn’t hold back.

As the months went by, you started spending every waking moment with him. Winter wasn’t as cold and bleak as it used to be, having found a warmth in your close friendship with him. You would even go horse riding with him in the vast countryside. As he chased you through the serene, white landscape, the hooves of your horses pounded rhythmically against the ice.

You turned back to watch him riding steadily behind. Ivan gave Russia a beauty you never knew it had, and it reflected on him inside and out. His kindness knew no bounds, even for those who could never repay him. He would play with children on the streets, then crouch down to give them candy. And above all else, he loved you exactly the way you needed him to.

You were at his home, sitting across him on the ledge of a window. Just like he said, he had sunflowers at almost every one, giving the golden light that poured in a new meaning. But you made everything look so much more vibrant, giving his place a new life just by being here. He’d had people over before, but it was the first time that he didn’t feel lonely at home.

“How do you like your caviar?” He had a slice of bread in one hand and a knife in the other.

“Just make it how you usually would.”

“Alright,” Ivan spread a thick layer of butter over it before scooping some caviar and plopping it on top. Then, he handed it to you, which you ate in slow, experimental chews. He watched you intently for a reaction, and it was like nothing he expected.

“I don’t actually like caviar, but I just wanted to try it the way you do,” You admitted, finishing the slice of bread as you spoke. The man made a face as if to say come again, but you had already moved on to the next best thing. “Oh, that reminds me. What did you think of the tea cakes I got for you the other day?”

“I ate it all, actually.” He murmured under his breath.

“What?” You asked, not hearing what he said.

“I ate it all.” He repeated louder this time.

“But that was only a few days ago,” You said without thinking, surprised that he managed to finish the box in such a short period. He glanced to the side with his lips pursed, embarrassed that you found out, but then again, he never could lie to you. “But no matter. I’m glad you liked them since I made them myself.”

“You did?” Ivan glanced back to you, and when he saw how proudly you grinned at him, his shame had all but diffused into wonder. “They were really good, (F/N). I didn’t know you could bake so well.”

You didn’t know what came over you, but his fixation on sweets was so endearing, you did something so out of the blue that even you were surprised by your lack of inhibition. You leaned forward and lifted his blouse, revealing his belly and happy trail. He was slightly pudgy, and it was made worse by him leaning over. But the mindless decision on your part ended up eliciting a bigger response than you anticipated.

“Why did you do that?” His eyes flew open as he pulled his blouse down to hide his stomach.

“I don’t know. I wanted to see what you looked like,” You recoiled a little, “But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“Well, don’t do it again,” Ivan pinched your cheek, his expression slightly displeased. But somehow, he was a little glad that you felt this comfortable with him. What more was that you didn’t seem put off by what you saw, apparent in the expectant look you gave him. “You don’t find it unattractive that I’m fat?”

“What makes you think you’re fat?” You frowned.

“Well, there’s this,” He murmured.

“This is nothing, Ivan. Besides, I think it looks good on you,” You watched him furrow his brows for a skeptical look, which only seemed to encourage you. “But if we’re really talking, you could do your business in front of me and I would still like you.”

“No way,” He chuckled deeply.

“I’ll even follow you into the bathroom because you always take too long,” You said, smile growing.

“Okay, okay,” Ivan muttered defeatedly, not wanting to hear any more about his bathroom habits and your apparent willingness to watch them all unfold. At this point, his face had darkened past what he thought to be humanly possible. Did you like him that much? “Now if I said the same thing, you wouldn’t like it.”

“That’s because you’re a man,” You got off the ledge.

“Oh?” He wore an amused expression as he trailed behind you like a giant shadow. Despite being such a large person, he walked so quietly it was as though he wasn’t walking at all. It was only until you closed the door on him that you even realized he was there.

“I need to go to the bathroom! Don’t follow me.” You exclaimed, frankly dumbfounded that he got this far.

“Is that why you’ve been talking about me like that?”The door shut in his face, so he wandered off to wait for you. When you came out of the bathroom, he’d been sitting on a chair down the hallway. Once you were looming over him, he stood up to acknowledge you properly. “Let me show you to your room.”

You didn’t say anything, staying quiet as he took your hand and lead you to the bedroom he had prepared for you. It was so considerate of him, but you weren’t satisfied with his response. Were you being entitled, or did everything just fall flat like it meant nothing? You tried to hide it as best as you could, not wanting to ruin such a tender moment between you two.

But he was too observant to miss it.

“You don’t look happy,” Ivan softened his gaze as he put his hands on your waist, holding you steady. Little did he know, that only made your heart heavier. How could he treat you so lovingly, yet deny it so? Was he just being polite, where everything he ever did was out of friendship and nothing more?

“I don’t know why, but I thought we’d share.”

You couldn’t even look at him as you said it, having already decided his feelings for you were platonic.

Incredibly deep, but still, not deep enough.

“I’m sorry,” You muttered, turning to leave the room, feeling as though you just ruined everything. Before you could, Ivan reached out and grabbed your hand, stopping you from taking another step. When you faced him, he had a deep frown and an intense look in his eyes like everything was about to bubble over.

To him, the question that had been on his mind was answered so unabashedly, even he couldn’t deny the implications anymore. You liked him so much, you hoped that he would take the initiative to let you in his bed. It was so forward, yet you communicated it in such a shy manner, you were endearing for it.

You wanted him, and not out of mindless passion.

Everyone else looked through him, but you looked at and into him. You met him where he needed you to, being so playful and open, yet so attentive and considerate. For that, he had nothing against letting you into his world, and he let himself go in every way he could let go because he trusted you to catch him.

Ivan took your face and leaned in with his lips.

But he was still careful, moving ever so slowly as he watched you for every subtle change to your body language and expression. You didn’t pull away in the slightest, staring back at him with an alluring look. Once his nose brushed against yours, you closed the gap with a long-awaited kiss. He responded with just as much urgency, having been granted permission to finally love you the way he was always intended to.

You hung off his neck as your mouths met again and again in soft pecks, but they eventually deepened into kisses that were so long, you couldn’t breathe.

It felt so good to finally have him. To surrender at the same time, giving in to the unspoken connection that had made it unbearable to be away from each other. For that, your patience for each other was rewarded with the most heartfelt intimacy yet. You and Ivan kept kissing, not caring for the taste of food in each other’s mouths. He was salty like the sea, but it was still him. Slowly, you were starting to like caviar.

You saw him off at the train station before he left for Tashkent. And he almost looked too good for you to let him go, but you had to. Ivan was dressed in his white cavalry uniform as he stood on the platform, cap in hand, and when you spotted him, you ran up to him as fast as you could. He stretched his arms to catch you just in time, lifting you over his head with absolutely no effort. Ivan had always been big and strong like a bear, but feeling it was something else.

You held onto his face and kissed him as hard as any woman would before their lover was sent off to the battlefield. He reciprocated with just as much urgent passion, moving his head fervently against yours. Your lips met again and again, eliciting soft and wet sounds. You ended the amorous exchange by sucking on his tongue, but it was hardly vulgar as it was playful. He laughed breathily and smiled up at you like a dream, intoxicated by your affection.

“You came to see me, mishka?” He spoke lowly.

“Of course I did,” You let out, kissing him again until you somehow got it through his head that you loved him, however dizzy it was. The second time round was even longer than the first, so it was a miracle how he was still standing. “Write to me everyday.”

“I promise,” He whispered, chest heaving.

You bit his neck as hard as you could without making him bleed, because kissing him a third time wasn’t enough. His face scrunched up from the pain, and while his body didn’t enjoy it, his heart was in the right place. It ached with satisfaction, but it couldn’t be explained by the physical. It came from a carnal instinct deep within, and what awakened inside him would stay with him throughout his entire posting.

“I miss you already, Sasha.” You whispered back.

“I’ll be back soon. I know nothing will happen to me because you’ll always be with me,” Ivan pressed his forehead to yours gingerly, closing his eyes as he spoke. It was the mindset of all soldiers, the feeling of invincibility simply because someone loved them. But how many would still perish, despite that fact? He carried this inside him like a stone; knowing his own mortality made him restless with longing.

In the months he spent away from you, you were all he could think about. As he sat around the campfire with his comrades, he let the dark of the night get to him. It was pitch black for miles around, so he stared into the flames, letting them burn his vision away just to get a semblance of what it felt like to be around you. Light, warm, and nourishing, a sign that he’d live to see another day. He knew he loved you, even if that love was playful, exciting, and even childlike.

For you, Ivan freed up so much space within himself that you would never feel trapped again. If the world was ever too small, it never was inside him, and in there, you slowly blossomed like a flower. He would then carry you inside him everywhere he went, so it was like having a piece of Spring even in the coldest blizzards. But the greatest one had yet to pass. What used to be so pure was burning into something so passionate, it rivaled that of his first dance with you.

Only this time, it wasn’t just physical attraction.

He wanted all of you, body and soul.

But somehow, that felt like a crime. You were his little bear, and he was your first for everything. Was it too soon to want you this way, or were you ready to give him everything? When he saw you again, it was easy to make a poor judgement. Your minds were tired but your hearts were not, and after the separation, there was nothing to inhibit your deep-seated restlessness for each other. While you sat over him, half-dressed in your underwear, you kissed him until his lips were bruised. But he didn’t mind the pain. Everything you could ever inflict on him translated to pure ecstasy.

“Can I make love to you?” He gazed expectantly up at you, breaking the already fervid silence.

“But this is my first time.” You flushed, caught off guard by how plainly he asked for it. But perhaps, this was what it was to have intimate relations with a man. You and Ivan were headed toward this outcome, which would surely unfold sooner or later.

“Do you trust me?” He held onto your fingertips delicately as if to give you the option to pull away.

He was doing the same thing he did the first time he met you, lingering on your boundaries until you gave him the permission to go further. As alluring as it had been, really doing it was far more intimidating than you thought. There would be no going back from this, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it.

“Yes, but I’m scared.” You whispered in a hush.

“Of the pain?” He asked just as faintly.

“Of losing you.” You said even quieter.

“But you’ll always have me.” He smiled in the dark.

The next few minutes went by in a haze.

He carried you to his bed and laid you down as gently as he would laying someone down to rest. Then, he got on top of you. While you laid under him, he pulled his shirt over his head. After which, he slowly lowered back down to you, his silhouette becoming one with yours. His bare skin was flush against yours, the first of many sensations you would feel from his body.

Ivan was going to take you tonight, and you couldn’t bring yourself to process it. Some part of you wanted it to happen, another didn’t. Because as much as you loved being intimate with him, you loved everything more. The mindful conversations, even the mindless ones too. It was the purity of your interactions with him that made everything so perfect, but sex?

Having sex with Ivan scared you more than anything.

He was the only man you could ever give yourself to, and you trusted him more than anything, so why did you feel this way? Maybe it was still too early. Ivan hadn’t made himself clear enough to you, because deep inside, you still feared that he wouldn’t lay down his life for you. But if he was doing this with you, that had to be his intentions, wouldn’t it?

Or were you just being naïve?

Whatever it was, the one thing you knew was how much you didn’t want to hurt him. So you let him put his hands all over you, your breasts, your thighs, and everything in between. Ivan worshipped every inch of your body, caressing you until you were dripping wet and feening for him. Seeing the massive tent in his underwear didn’t help, as it forced you to cross your legs to hide how much you wanted him inside you.

“What’s wrong, mishka?” He breathed.

“I don’t know about this, Ivan.” You whispered, eyes turning misty. “What if this changes everything?”

“What do you mean?” He reached out to caress your cheek, gaze softening for a tender look. You were feverishly hot, your skin almost scalding to touch, and not for the right reasons. Something had you on the verge of tears, he just never imagined it would be him. That would end up being his greatest hamartia, and this night was only just the beginning. “Tell me.”

“Will I still be your little bear?”

“Always,” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, and for a brief moment, you relaxed. But when his hands went to your underwear, discomfort crossed your face again. However, he missed it, set on making love to you as a cathartic moment in the relationship.

You would be bound to him forever, and him, to you.

Only you had a very different idea of binding to him. He took your underwear off, and that was the trigger. The first tear rolled from your eyes, and as you laid naked under him, you hid yourself behind your arms. In the end, no matter how much you thought you trusted him, you didn’t want him to see you like this.

And Ivan was devastated.

Not for being rejected, but for making you cry.

The shame in his eyes was as if he just killed a man, and his brows came together until it looked like he was in physical pain. Not only did he make you feel uncomfortable, he made you feel taken advantage of. He shouldn’t have tried convincing you the first time you said it, and now that he had, did you even see him the same anymore? Ivan highly doubted it.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered, climbing off you.

He stood next to the bed with his back turned to you as he gathered himself. He couldn’t bring himself to face you no matter what he told himself. The guilt he felt was so paralyzing, he couldn’t even move.

“Let’s stop this.”

You slept beside him all night, hoping that what just happened between you both could be a minor bump in the relationship. In the morning, you could work it out, and you trusted that he would come through for your sake. But when the sun rose and you came to, he had all but disappeared. You sat up and rubbed the haze from your eyes, scanning the room for him.

Then, you searched the rest of the house, wandering the empty halls half-dressed. He was nowhere to be found, and at the realization that you had just been abandoned, an emptiness welled in your chest.

Why did he go?

There wasn’t a trace of him except for a letter you found on his desk. When you read it, a whirlwind of emotions hit you. Confusion, sadness, then anger. Ivan apologized for what he’d done, then said that he would return to Tashkent to give you some space.

You hadn’t finished the entire message before you scrunched it up on reflex, throwing it to a random spot in the room. All of his intellectualizing meant nothing to you, because the only thing you took away from this was that he left. He just upped and left.

He never gave you the chance to forgive him, running off before he could gather the nerve to face you. If it weren’t for all that you had done with him last night, the kissing, the touching, and your nudity, you would feel pity for him. But he took something from you.

And rather than staying to make up for it, he just left. His stupidity just shattered your dignity as a woman, but not to the point it wasn’t salvageable. So you got dressed in the fastest, sloppiest way possible, hoping to somehow catch him before he fled Moscow.

You boarded the first train you saw, and you stormed through the carriages looking like Hell. There was only an astronomical chance that you would see him, and yet, you didn’t stop, pacing down the aisle until you would lay eyes on the reason for your woes.

Fate was kind to you that day, because you did end up finding him. When you saw Ivan sitting at one of the booths, you marched up to him, nostrils flaring. He was in a heavy brown coat, and atop his head was his gray ushanka. As he stared lazily into the white, snow-drenched landscape outside, wallowing in self pity, he failed to notice you until you were standing right over him. When he sensed you in his peripheral, he turned to you, and his eyes slowly widened.

What were you doing here?

Ivan was surprised to see you on his train departing Moscow, but even more by you looking for him after everything that happened. He was that out of touch with you, which only worsened your anger. Needless to say, he was overjoyed to see you, even if he never had a chance to relish it. Because what happened in the next second would shatter his train of thought.

Utterly and completely.

You slapped him across the face, and so hard that his hat fell off. Gasps went around the carriage as his head turned in direction of the slap. His eyes went as wide as he could get them, and he didn’t move out of shock. His face stayed angled to the side as he tried to process what you just did. Did you just slap him?

From the burning sting on his cheek, it was apparent that you did. A red hand mark slowly formed on his skin, but no matter how much it hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to anger. Now that he thought about it, he would still adore you with your hands around his neck. In his mind, anything you did to him was out of a fit of passion. And he wasn’t so far off the mark.

When he turned back to you, mouth agape like he was about to go off, your face had gone as white as a ghost. You were appalled by what you just did, and only now did you come to terms with it, which was after the fact. After you hit him. He reached out to you on instinct, but you darted out of there without a word. Ivan shot up on reflex and chased after you.

You raced down the stairs of the train to get back to the platform, feeling the snow crunch under your feet as you ran. Not that you even had a place in mind. You just had to get as far away as possible, fleeing the horror that was something done in the heat of the moment. You just hit Ivan. You couldn’t imagine how furious he was, but that only went to show how out of touch you were with him too.

He shot his arm out and grabbed your hand, yanking you into his chest. Then, he covered your entire body with his, holding you in such an embrace that would stop any and all movement on your end. Like a wild bear, he had you completely subdued in his grasp.

“How could you?” You squeezed him as hard as you could. “You were just gonna leave without telling me?

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.” Ivan sighed.

“Why would I not want to see you?” You exclaimed, pulling back to put your scorching gaze on him as you fought back angry tears. He stood over you in silence, expression wrought with shame as you tore him to shreds. There was nothing he could say to earn your forgiveness, because there was nothing that could justify what he did. “After everything that happened, that was what you thought of me?”

He had done this out of his own cowardice, and you suffered the brunt of the consequences.

“You made me feel so cheap!” You cried, slamming your fists against his chest. Not that he even budged when he was that much stronger than you, so you shoved him instead. And he let you, coming back every time to wipe away your tears. “But you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to even know that.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” He winced, holding your face in his hands as he kissed you over and over.

But even that wasn’t enough.

“If we fight, stay with me. If I run, chase after me. Don’t just sit back and let it happen,” You wiped your tears as they kept coming, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that came pouring from your mouth. The dam had broken, and with the most heart-wrenching look on your face, you sobbed, “Do you even love me?”

He went beet red, and his eyes burned with all the hatred he harbored for himself. It was his ugliest look yet, coming face-to-face with just how worthless he made you feel. It was only a fraction of what he felt himself, but knowing this was all his doing made him cave like never before. He pulled you into a hug so tight, it was as though he was clinging to life itself.

“I love you more than anything,” He uttered shakily into your hair. “I love you more than life itself. You are the reason I get up in the morning everyday. Without you, living would feel the same to me as being dead.”

“Then prove it. Don’t let me doubt you for a second, or else I’ll keep living in my head.” You squeezed him.

Ivan stayed in Moscow that night. And you were back in his bedroom, continuing what was left off from yesterday. Only this time, there was a sense of clarity and serenity between you both that was comparable to reaching nirvana. All that could be said had been spoken, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

“You’re so clumsy, Ivan.” You spoke gently over him, eyes still red from all the crying. While you sat on his lap, he rubbed his face on your bosom. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he had his strong arms coiled around you with no intention of letting you go. “Why is it when we’re dancing, you’re so graceful, but with everything else, you’re so clueless?”

“That’s because it’s all I know,” He kept his eyes shut as brushed his lips delicately across your skin.

“Then treat me like how you would dance with me.” You spoke with so much conviction, it wouldn’t have sounded as suggestive as it was really meant to be.

Ivan opened his eyes as his heart began to pound in his chest. If he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have understood what you meant. But he did, and always had since the day he met you. The unspoken passion between you both didn’t go unnoticed by him, and this was his chance to finally prove it to you.

You wanted him to take you.

And he wasn’t about to refuse you.

From now on, everything he would say to you would be spoken through his body as if you were dancing with him. His bedroom was now the ballroom, only there would be nobody watching you two.

He got off the bed, and without breaking eye contact, he began to strip, starting with his shirt.

You watched in a daze, admiring his body for all that it was. He was so big and strong, you could only imagine his size down there. And you were right for your concerns. When he undid his pants and pulled them down with his boxers, his dick bounced out. Ivan was still so massive at half-mast, he could put a horse to shame. But you weren’t intimidated at all.

If this was what it was to love him, you would soon rather split yourself in half than refuse to take him.

He laid down flat on the bed, the action causing his cock to rock to and fro. Rather than coming onto you, he let you come to him on your own will. You got on top of him so that his erection would be brushing against your stomach. Then, you lifted your shirt and pinned it with your chin, showing him your breasts with a coy smile. He chuckled lowly as his cock twitched, more than content to let you please him.

You were being so obedient, but you would snap him out of his indulgent stupor soon. You gave his dick a hard slap, and he let out a pained moan as it rocked from side to side like a buoy. Satisfied, you started pumping your hand up and down the length of it as a reward. His face contorted with pleasure, only it was so good, it looked like it hurt just as much as before.

“Oh… Oh…” He shut his eyes as you went even faster, writhing in bliss and agony. He began panting rapidly as he reached a hot and hard orgasm, but before he came, you stopped, leaving him on the edge of an explosive climax. He went red in the face from embarrassment as he recovered. “… Why did you…?”

“Because…” You trailed off as you adjusted yourself on top of him, spreading your legs and showing him your womanhood cutely. It was so erotic, Ivan had a visceral reaction. His eyes went round as his heart ached to penetrate you right then and there, but he somehow refrained. “I wanted you to do it inside me.”

He never backpedaled so fast.

A switch was flipped, excited by what you’d let him do to you, and he dove into the place between your legs. Ivan would eat you out until you lost your mind, flicking his tongue furiously against your clit, swirling circles on it, then tongue-fucking you until you came into his mouth. His hunger for you was more like starvation, picking you up by your thighs and lifting you over his head so you would have nowhere to go.

Nowhere but down to his mouth.

“Ivan, please-- ” You moaned, grabbing his head to stabilize yourself as he held you on his shoulders.

“Yes, mishka?” He dragged his tongue up and down your folds, then swirled it over your sensitive clit.

“--I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but that’s enough. You’re driving me crazy, ah--” You cried.

Ivan was so good at oral, he had your legs shaking by then, but he still wasn’t stopping. This was only the appetizer, the first bit of foreplay he would give you before getting to the main course. And he made that apparent by laying you back down on the bed.

“Then I’ll keep going until you understand.”

Without breaking eye contact, he stuck two fingers into his mouth. His gaze was hotter on you than you could stomach, but you were such a mess, there was nothing you could do except let him take charge. After coating them with saliva, he inserted them into your entrance, sliding deeper into you than you were ready for. Your eyes flew open as he started fingering and hooking you, breath hitching to his thrusts.

“How does that feel?” He breathed.

You turned feverishly hot as he pleased you, and with your head thrown back, you thought to yourself how much more it would be to take him. If this was just his fingers, what about his —? Ivan didn’t give you a chance to imagine it because he was already on top of you in a missionary position. Placing your legs on either side of his body, he splayed you wide open.

Then, he aligned himself and penetrated you.

Ivan made a face of pain before he leaned down to kiss you. After which, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, knowing how much he was for you. Tears ran down your cheeks as he rocked back and forth. It hurt so much, you couldn’t even make a noise to express it. But he was patient. He didn’t go any further than you’d let him, listening to your body.

“Slowly, slowly,” He whispered over you assuringly. As he moved his pelvis back and forth, he penetrated you to the same depth every time, but eventually, he got deeper as you accepted him. By then, most of the pain had subsided. He was just so big, the walls of your womanhood ached as he moved inside you. That ache then spread to your heart and mind.

But it ached so good, you couldn’t stop trembling.

You didn’t know what it was that made you tear up in pleasure. That it was Ivan who was inside you, or that he was so thick, he was filling you up until there was nothing left to fill. While his cock rubbed against your insides, it stretched you until your stomach bulged. And the sight was something else to behold, like you were trying to keep down all of his love in your body.

Being so much smaller than him, you almost couldn’t take him. But you would soon rather split yourself in half than refuse to try. And you made that apparent with the way you begged him wantonly, like you would die if he didn’t get to where you wanted him.

“Deeper, Ivan. Deeper,” You let out, tears falling from your hazy eyes as he rocked you back and forth.

You had completely lost control of yourself, but so would he. You wanted him so bad you were crying for him, and Ivan thought it was so cute, it drove him crazy. With a low, throaty moan, Ivan sunk himself all the way in, and without giving you any time to adjust, he started pounding you into the bed as hard as he could. The bed squeaked even faster and faster.

He was slapping his pelvis into you at a furious pace, and you were taking every inch of his massive cock every time. He even let out a few breathy utterances, praising you for how good you were being. He fucked you like this for a few more minutes, and when it wasn’t enough, he folded you in half like a pretzel to get even deeper. This was the position he stayed in until his first orgasm, loving how much he opened you up.

He splayed you apart until he was pushing both your knees into the mattress. You kept your eyes closed and head tilted away out of embarrassment, but he was infatuated with your shyness. After a few more strong thrusts, he snapped, eyes closed in pure bliss. Ivan smiled floatily as he came, shooting strong jets of cum into your core. While he ejaculated inside you, he stayed all the way in to let you feel his dick pulse.

And the satisfaction he felt made his mind go blank.

The only thing he knew was to go back to moving so he could ride out his orgasm. With his mouth agape, he rolled his hips into you in slow, fluid movements, pumping you full with his cum. He breathed heavily over you like a dog, brows twitching up and down in pleasure. When he finally finished, he laughed weakly as he basked in the aftermath of all the love-making.

Cumming inside you didn’t just feel like heaven.

Knowing the consequences and still doing it made it so hot, he couldn’t get off his high. It excited him to think what he was doing to you, something intimate but oh-so perverted. The fact that you let him do it only turned him on even more. So for the rest of the night, he couldn’t resist doing it again and again.

You and Ivan had sex for hours, rolling around the bed with your bodies connected like snakes in heat.

You’ve lost count of how many times you orgasmed, but he just couldn’t get enough. You never imagined how much of a sex fiend Ivan was, but turns out, you did all the right things to bring out this side of him. When you’d crawl away from him, he would pull you back to him in one quick movement. And when you tried stumbling to the bathroom, he yanked you back to keep fucking you. Ivan would then bend you over the desk and pound you doggy-style until he came.

When he pulled out, cum oozed from your hole.

You got so mad at him after that, you slapped him, but he couldn’t be affected by it anymore. He even liked it, because being hit by you felt no different to him than being kissed. So he simply turned back at you, chest still heaving from all the sex, and leaned in to kiss you. In that short moment before he put his mouth on yours, you saw that his nose was bleeding.

Your eyes widened with guilt, but it went away as he moved his lips fervently against yours. You hung off his neck as you kissed through his blood, tasting the iron that dripped into your mouth. Then, you were back to taking him like nothing happened. He would hold you against the wall standing, then roll his pelvis furiously into you. With the wall behind you, you had nowhere to go and was forced to take him. With his forehead flush against yours, he kept you in a dazed stare as he bounced you up and down on his cock.

His nose kept bleeding as he thrusted furiously into you, making for an erotic sight. Ivan just adored you so much, he wanted you even when you raised a hand at him. But he thought he deserved it. As he fanned his hot, labored breath over your mouth, he reached another hot orgasm, coming inside your womb. Your brows twitched in ecstasy as he kept rolling his hips, stimulating your clit from the inside, now dripping with cum. Either way, as push comes to shove, you would be making it up to him until morning.

When the sun came up, you and Ivan basked in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The soft sheets beneath you were damp from all kinds of body fluids, and he had dried blood over his mouth. You cleaned it carefully with a cloth dipped in some water, and after that, you two kissed, not minding each other’s morning’s breath. He couldn’t be any more satisfied with the developments, knowing you were finally his. He was now whole, having found his other half to forgive all that he lacked, and he would do the same.

“What do you want to do today?” You asked him as you lay on his chest, eyes still shut from exhaustion.

“I don’t know, I just want to lay in bed with you.”

“But that’s not productive.” You mumbled.

“Laying in bed with you is the most productive thing I could ever think of doing,” Ivan smiled tiredly under you, getting you to open your eyes to peer up at him in a shy look. “You are the activity, mishka.”

One week later, you were in a carriage on the way to a ball with him. And for the first time in a long time, you were excited to go. Ivan made balls enchanted again, simply because you would be dancing with him and nobody else. But you also knew his presence alone had that same effect. There were really people out there like him, and that made the world smaller — and righter — than you’ve always known it to be.

“You have to meet my cousin, Ivan. He’ll love you.”

“Of course,” He chuckled, having already heard of Gilbert and the role he played in introducing him to you, however incorrectly he had done it. It wasn’t in his nature to blame him, and he was more eager than anything to befriend your closest family member.

“Just don’t make him feel stupid, he hates that.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Just something about you, everything you do feels intelligent,” You flickered your eyes over him as he sat across you quietly. Ivan had always been so calm and mature, but still able to humor your playfulness in private. It was one of your favorite parts about him. You saw sides of him that nobody else would, and it made up the world you had with him. “He’s already mad at me for ditching him to go with you today.”

“I understand,” He nodded.

You sat across each other in a comfortable silence, but he kept staring at you. His gaze on you was so tender, but also dazed and absent like he was thinking of something else entirely to this moment.

“What?” You frowned, slightly put off by the intensity of his scrutiny, when really, you were more flustered than anything. It looked like he had something salacious on his mind, but this was Ivan you were talking about. Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from going, “Want me to slap some sense into you?”

It had been a joke to diffuse the tension, but it only seemed to encourage the sincerity of his feelings.

“I want to be your husband.” He said it with such a serious tone of voice, you couldn’t even brush it off.

Your face contorted with shock, but you were slowly overwhelmed with so much emotion that you turned beet red. You were on the verge of tears, and not just from happiness. You were relieved to hear that Ivan was ready to lay his life down for you, as much as you trusted that he would. But did he really have to say that right before meeting so many people?

You had changed him so much with your love, giving him so much confidence that you could hardly deal with your own creation. But if you asked him, Ivan was just being as passionate as you told him to be. To treat you like he was dancing with you. So he did what he wanted to, even if it was more bold and brazen than how anyone else would’ve gone about it. How he would’ve gone about it if he hadn’t met you.

By the end of the month, he proposed to you.

With a diamond-encrusted ring on your finger, you’d write to him as he served in Tashkent for one last time. Because once he’d return, you two would marry and start a new life together. A few years would pass before there would be the three of you. Ivan would carry a small child in his arms while he walked the streets of Moscow with you, only the first of many he would have with you as a product of your love.

Spring had only just begun, and Winter?

It would never be cold again.

[anunkindncss]

TRASH DAD PSA — GRAB YOUR JUICEBOX, THIS ONE’S GONNA STING AND ITS BEEN A MINUTE.

Alright, gather ‘round, gremlins and goblins, because Trash Dad’s pulling the minivan over and we’re gonna have a real loud talk about manners on the internet — specifically, your inability to read a damn blog description before flailing into someone’s inbox like a feral raccoon in a recycling bin.

Rule #1:

If someone puts content warnings, shipping preferences, fandom tags, or literal neon-lit disclaimers on their blog and you STILL come whining like, “ummm this makes me uncomfy,” then congratulations — you played yourself.

You were warned. You were guided. You had every signpost telling you “Hey, maybe don’t go poking around here if this ain’t your scene,” and you decided to march in anyway like you were entitled to rearrange someone else’s sandbox. Spoiler alert: you’re not.

Rule #2:

People can ship what they want. People can write what they want. It is not your business.

Don’t like it? That’s cool. Use the magical tools at your disposal:

Scroll. Mute. Block. Leave.

But don’t you dare vague, subtweet, or passive-aggressively try to guilt someone into censoring themselves on their space because you can’t handle seeing a tag you disagree with.

Rule #3:

This is a customizable, adult space. Not preschool. You don’t get gold stars for tone policing or moral grandstanding. We write here to explore, to create, to get unhinged and sometimes deeply messy. If that rattles your pearl-clutching sensibilities, then maybe go knit a Tumblr cozy and chill out somewhere quieter.

Look, Trash Dad gets it — some content just ain’t for you. That’s normal. That’s human. But how you react to it? That’s where your character shows. So either be an adult and curate your space, or go play in traffic on MySpace (not in real life we DON’T want that).

TL;DR:

Mind your damn business. Read the blog. Respect boundaries. And for the love of whatever gods are left, stop trying to make everyone write like they’re a character in a Disney channel original.

Now be good or I’m turning this car around.

— Trash Dad, patron saint of tags, tolerance, and respect for the craft.

[ishaaron-ishaaron-me]

“We just targeted Pakistani terrorist camps and did their job for them.” ==> can’t name a single terrorist camp targeted, can’t name terrorist profiles targeted, can’t name or cite the number of terrorists killed. You know what CAN be named tho? The civilian casualties in Pakistan. The mother and her baby who died, who never had anything to do with a single terrorist attack in India. The child who just went to his local maddrassa to learn his religion. You can’t propagate fake news and agenda without proper verified facts, and expect to act like some saint. Loss of life is horrendous, and your claim of ‘vengeance’ is hypocritical if it comes at the expense of the propagation of more violence, more terror, and more Pehlagams. Be a better fucking human being, before trying to be a better Indian.

Targets in Pakistan-occupied J&K:

1. Sawai Nala camp in Muzaffarabad- This was a training centre for Lashkar-e-Taiba. Terrorists involved in October 20, 2024 attack in Sonmarg, October 24, 2024 attack in Gulmarg, April 22, 2025 attack in Pahalgam were all trained here.

2. Syedna Bilal Camp in Muzaffarabad- This was a staging area of Jaish-e-Mohammed. This was also a weapons, explosives and jungle survival training centre

3. Gulpur camp in Kotli - This was a base camp of LeT, that was active in Rajouri and Poonch areas of Jammu. Attacks in Poonch on April 20, 2023, and June 9, 2024, were carried out by terrorists trained here.

4. Barnala camp in Bhimber- This was also a weapons handling, explosives and jungle survival training centre

5. Abbas camp in Kotli- Fidayeen of the LeT were prepared here. It had a capacity to train 15 terrorists.

Targets within Pakistan

1. Sarjal camp in Sialkot- Terrorists who killed four J&K police personnel in March 2025, received their training at this camp.

2. Mehmoona Joya camp in Sialkot- Pathankot air force base camp attack was planned and carried out from this terrorist camp.

3. Markaz Taiba camp in Muridke - Terrorists who participated in the 2008 Mumbai terror attacks were trained here. Ajmal Kasab and David Headley received training here.

4. Markaz Subhanallah in Bahawalpur- This is the HQ of Jaish-e-Muhammad. Recruitment, training, and indoctrination were carried out here.

-source @rhysaka’s post and new channels I cross checked with

And 80-90 terrorists have been killed in the strikes.

Here’s your info <3

[ateez-himari]

LOVE; INSPIRING ART

Mingi and Himari steal hearts by appearing together during Fashion Week

March 12, 2025 (3:07PM)

Korea was most certainly represented during the most important even in the fashion industry through talented music artists, however members of a certain group seemed to attract heavier amounts of attention for their overwhelming visuals and magnetic auras. Ateez achieved further popularity in western countries following this highly documented week as six idols attended shows in both countries, with their youngest being an ambassador for three highly regarded houses and desired by many more.

Off-White received much coverage from netizens through its invitation of the industry's soulmate couple, who seemed to hypnotize attendees the most as they found themselves unable to tear their attention from the lovers. Designers had preciously spoken about the visual synergy created through their notable contrast, making them mesmerizing; with Mingi appearing slightly more intimidating due to strong features whilst many have come to describe his girlfriend using terms such as 'doll-like', the rapper himself using the word 'angel', in reference to the delicate details of her appearance.

Interactions between them made it one of the most highly watched streams as the rapper remained visibly protective over the vocalist throughout the event, with an arm constantly wrapped around her waist which occasionally tightened whenever someone happened to walk past too closely for his liking , despite her lack of awareness. Himari on the other hand refused numerous interviews apologetically with the explanation that her boyfriend was the one personally flown in by the brand and she was simply there at his own request, insisting that they focus on interacting with him instead. Mingi rapidly dismissed this sudden bashfulness through a very public display when being photographed prior to the beginning of the show, patting his thigh once to entice the young woman over as he sat in the front row, the raised eyebrow over dark eyes leaving no room for questions.

It was noted by people who had seen them prior to entering the venue that they were wearing the matching rings that many had believed to be a sign of their engagement, this time on the fourth finger of their left hands - raising some questions. The lovers were seen being much more bright around one another lately and whilst they have spoken out on the fact that they will likely not get married in the near future due to group activities, some have begun to ask whether their opinions recently changed.

Yves Saint Laurent seemed to have perpetuated the theme of love constantly surrounding the maknae these past weeks by seating fellow ambassador Cha Eunwoo next to her after the older idol had made allusions to them having been in a romantic relationship earlier in their careers a few days prior. The entire '97 liners friend group have been open about their friendship with Himari yet according to netizens, something seemed different about the two of them as they spoke to one another with a sense of comfort not usually found with the others.

Regardless of whether the rumors surrounding both couples are true designers and fans alike were all more than overjoyed at the mere attendance of the vocalist, while other houses continue to hope their invitation will one day be accepted. Remember to keep streaming 'Sungyo' and watch the behind the scenes of 'Drama' by G-Dragon (featuring Himari) to witness her artistry in motion.

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